Vintage vibes W

E’RE LUCKY in London to have more than our fair share of fun and interesting cycle-related events, from the huge Ride London to various LCC-led local rides (see page 34). We also do ‘quirky’ pretty well too and perhaps none is quirkier than the annual Tweed Run.

I’ve marshalled the ride several times now and did so again this spring, and much to my pleasure it’s an event which attracts a very diverse crowd, despite what some folks may imagine. There are those, sure, who are more accomplished at wearing vintage clothing rather than bike riding (especially by the end of the day when a few of the punters may have possibly imbibed one more G&T than is strictly prudent), but it is a wonderful advertisement for leisurely cycling.

You’d be hard pressed to find anyone wearing any technical sports clothing. Some go the whole hog — and look absolutely amazing. I remember marvelling at one woman’s victory rolls, not the sort of thing my hair would ever tolerate. There’s everything from Victorian outfits to modern suits made from Dashing Tweeds fabric (a Marylebone-based company that includes bike-friendly material with reflective thread in its repertoire). There’s always a plethora of vintage steel machines, original and reproduction, usually a handful of penny farthings, and I once saw a gent on a hobbyhorse who certainly didn’t work as hard as the lady who took part in her wheelchair a few years ago.

To see and be seen

The route is usually between 10 to 15 miles long and inevitably takes in many of the prime sights of central London, often passing Westminster, Buckingham Palace or St Paul’s, and stopping at one of the parks for a mid-morning coffee and then again for lunch. There’s little in the way of gradient, but even small rises, such as the slope from The Mall up St James’s Street might tax the legs of someone riding an old fixed gear.

What I’ve noticed from being one of the guides is that being in an ‘event’ ride, particularly in vintage clobber, the reaction from drivers is generally one of curiosity and tolerance. There’s a chance of looking rather ridiculous if you’re getting angry at someone waving, smiling, and riding a penny farthing. Passers-by enjoy the spectacle as well; yes, there’s definitely a significant element of ‘being seen’ with an event like this and attendees don’t generally mind if they are stopped for photos by intrigued and bemused tourists.

The whole day is great fun, though I’ve never taken part as a ‘customer’ as such. Most of the joy for me is meeting up annually with an eclectic group of cyclists and going on recce rides, during which we fine-tune the route, risk assess junctions, and generally focus on getting 1,000 people on bikes around central London in one piece to enjoy a bit of a party at the end. And it’s definitely best when it doesn’t rain — those attending about a decade back still recall the very, ahem, particular damp Tweed odour in the pub that night.

As with the recent LCC Women’s Freedom Ride across town, you absolutely feel the security of riding with a large number of other people. You can take up the space and own the road. On the surface it might seem very retro, but under that veneer it feels like a push back against the rush, the speed, and the impatience of the everyday traffic. For me, that’s not such a bad thing. Why not give it a go next year?