Peter Roscoe Remembers

with some help from Ian Clarke

>> I was early on the road and on my way watched Bury Clarion Clubmates competing in a 25 miles TT on the East Lancashire Road. I then proceeded to join the A6 for my journey south. On this ride a sensible person would have aborted the tour as the spokes on my rear wheel obviously became loose as they scraped together on the climbs, (I had recently had it rebuilt for gears). However, somewhere or other I had found a medal of St Christopher fording a river carrying a child (unbeknown to St Christopher until the river was crossed it was Jesus, whose weight increased as a test, according to legend). So despite my lack of faith, I had this medal portraying the patron saint of travellers with me. This is all I knew of St Christopher and that he is the patron saint of travellers.

At St Albans I still had 20 miles to go, so I found a hostelry to stay the night and made my way to Waterloo station the following day for the boat train then on to Basel.

Joe Derby also planned my tour and as I recall the first leg was the 80 miles to Lucerne. The continuing planned tour envisaged by Joe was around this distance daily, but I revised this for a leisurely pace of around 40 mile each day taking time to contemplate ‘in awesome wonder’ the splendour of the mountain scenery. My prime objectives were Zermat to see the Matterhorn and the Furka pass into France. The Furka pass is 2437 metres above sea level and is rated a hard climb for cyclists.

Access to Zermat is by track or train. For those cycle tourists who have not been, I recommend Zermat as a place to visit, unless popular places are a turn-off for you. So, for me it was the track and the only hazard I encountered was a stream. This was easy to negotiate by taking my shoes and socks off and wading across. The Matterhorn from Zermat is magnificent and the village itself a joy to walk around. I was lucky to find accommodation at the Youth Hostel and typically made friends with other travellers from other countries – Australians and New Zealanders etc. So off to a hostelry that evening for chat and drinks with some fellow hostellers. Here who should walk in but Eddie King, now lifetime friend and former member of Bury Clarion. He was with another friend with the intention of climbing the Matterhorn the following day.

This friend cried off so Eddie asked me if I would join him, and his friend would lend me his boots. At that time, I had no experience of mountaineering or climbing so I said it was not for me. Why Eddie thought I could achieve the summit or attempt it I know not. However, I determined to forgo lunch the following day and ride in the expensive cable lift which I learn, if it was the same height as it is now, was over 3000 metres and the highest in Europe. Most of the view from the lift was worth the expense but I recall one rock face which appeared to me black and ugly.

An incident on the return journey along the track out of Zermatt is worth recounting. On arrival at the stream, I found it faster flowing and obviously tricky to negotiate with my bike on my shoulders. I had not seen anyone travelling along the path on the way in or out, so the chances of a steadying hand seemed low. So, shoes and socks off again and I ventured forth. When I reached the middle of the stream it was much deeper, and I felt the power of the rushing water. I felt as though I was going to be toppled when I became aware of a steadying hand behind me. This was just what I needed but my helper strode off on

Foot notes.

(1) I am grateful to all those who contribute to Boots & Spurs, they stimulate my interest in our wonderful National Clarion Club. Furthermore, they write about places I am now unlikely to visit.

(2) It was the illustrious ‘in my view’ Ian Clarke, who with his recent ‘Facebook reaching the other side of the stream walking off without say a word or a backward glance. As I remember it, he photograph post’ of him at the top of the Furka pass with his wife Jayne that inspired me to write about this tour of mine. They were on a tour of Austria and Switzerland, and this is where Ian tells me he proposed to her whilst the two of them pedalled past the summit. He thought my snippet about my feeling of being in a film was interesting.

It is a pity I do not have my Youth Hostel card from this tour so the next thing I recall is my ascent of the Furka pass

Ian and Jayne

case. There were just two females and it all seemed normal – as it was, of course.

One feature of this Youth Hostel was the combined shower and ‘Asian’ toilet. I leave you to think about the alliterative phrase that goes through my mind.

was a giant of a man in long green rubber boots and his clothes were a shade of green. As you read this you may well think I was imagining the incident particularly with my St Christopher’s medal, but I am convinced it is true – I do not have faith.

Socialising with fellow travellers was great pleasure. For a time, I rode with a group from USA on a guide led cycling tour. I met a brother and sister in their late teens from the London area who were touring round by bus and train were obviously pleased to make friends with me. So also, were a group of 5 or 6 Scottish lasses who were on an extended tour of a few months. For some reason I cannot work out why, they seriously suggested I join them. I suspect they were attempting to pair me off with one of their number – no planning by me but I recall having a walk with her.

when I became particularly worried about the sound emitting from my rear wheel. So, it was a slow grind up but I ‘flew’ down the into Annecy. This lakeside holiday resort is apparently very popular. I recall the slope immediately beside the lakeside with outside bar tables tiered in front of the bars. As I was sitting down at a table a waiter placed a drink down ‘Hey I have not ordered’ I cried. He indicated a couple two tiers up had ordered it for me. Hey, I thought just like in films – the couple in question were English and had worked out that I was English – why do we English stand out so much abroad. I duly thanked them and told them about my tour which they were interested to hear about.

I recall in Annecy it was the only French Youth Hostel in France that I stayed at and as I had been warned ‘do not be surprised at the mixed sex dormitories’ which was the

So, returning to Basel via Zurich as I recall I proceeded to the station and as instructed by Joe and Evelyn left my bike on the platform dutifully labelled. I saw it then it disappeared. Ok I thought, but ‘Ok’ it wasn’t, my bike did not arrive with me. On enquiring at the station office, I was assured my bike could be sent to my local station when it arrived. I made the arrangements and caught a train home. Sure enough my bike arrived at ‘Bradley Fold’ about a quarter of a mile away from home. All very convenient except I recall it was 10 shillings or so for the transportation. I did not see that I should be expected to pay this and after some “argy bargy” the porter found an alternative price table and conceded at 3 shillings and 6 pence.

– Peter Roscoe

Iam not a natural sportsman but despite a bookish nature I embraced cycling in lockdown (and Clarionregardless of activity I will find and join the relevant socialist organisation associated with it).

My vehicle of choice is a Pashley Royal Mail Postal Bike (c/o cycleofgood.com/ elephant-bike). Clocking in at a mere 23 kilos (twice the weight of my father’s bike), a princely three gears (slow, less slow, and fast...ish), and fashioned from steel (the only contact with carbon fibre it is likely to have had is through crushing a more modern bike in a collision) it hardly stands as an elegant mode of transport for a more civilised age.