GOODWILL TRIUMPHS OVER ADVERSITY AS 'RAPHA CLAUS' DELIVERS 'THE TOAST OF CHRISTMAS (JUST) PASSED'

Dave Morrison's: 'A Christmas Moral'

Cycling 500km between Christmas Eve and New Year's Eve for the Rapha Festive 500 challenge didn't exactly turn out as expected for me, but it contributed towards something rather meaningful that made Christmas 2017 truly special, and one I'll never forget. A reminder that goodwill, community spirit, benevolence and kindness are 'alive and kicking'. It's not quite Charles Dickens' 'A Christmas Carol' but it was a welcome reminder that humanity still exists.

SUNDAY 24th DECEMBER 2017 PART 1: THE BRITISH EPIPHANY FORCE

Like the British Expeditionary Force setting off in 1939 at the start of World War II, I set off on this campaign with high hopes whilst embarking on a 225km Christmas Eve ride from West London up to Northamptonshire and back. The weather was kind but the roads were greasy in places and a tight bend at the bottom of a descent saw me crash with a thud at speed. It must have made a noise as before I'd even picked my bike up a lady rushed out of her house to see if I was OK. As I groaned and muttered in pain I was quite amazed that she asked a complete stranger covered in road grime if I'd like to come in and have a cup of tea? I politely declined and went to ride on, but my rear derailleur was bent so I spent a while easing it back a little before moving off again.

This was fine for a while but later on during an ascent the derailleur slammed into the spokes, jamming the wheel and throwing me off the bike for a second time. Another thud but in the countryside nobody rushed out to my aid this time. Although the derailleur was terminally mangled and the frame was cracked, I cycled for a while making an awful noise as the chain struggled around the bent deraillleur's jockey wheels before, eventually, I stopped to take the chain out of the derailleur. Whilst I was tinkering a kind gentleman stopped to try and assist, although, in reality, there wasn't much he could do apart from opine that 'you can't beat an old three speed Sturmey Archer'! I smiled knowingly and told him that, 'I had one once and it jammed'.

My father had made me build a bike from old parts, including Sturmey-Archer gears, as a teenager after the new shiny one he had bought me got stolen. He had grown up during World War II, and like most of that generation he was a 'make do and mend' type of guy, keeping all sorts of bits and pieces in the garage, 'just in case'. Included were parts of his old bike, which he used to ride out to the countryside with his friends after the war. Many people's lives were shaped by the war and, like Uncle Albert from 'Only Fools and Horses' my dad regularly started sentences with the phrase 'During The War....'. On one such occasion I distinctly recall him telling me how it felt like the world had ended when the British Army retreated from Dunkirk.

Unfortunately, I didn't get the chain length quite right and it kept coming off so, as I couldn't 'break' the chain again, it was time to give up. I found myself stricken without a rideable bike in a very rural area about 75km from home, not really an ideal place for this to happen. I hadn't seen a pub, shop or petrol station for miles. I was eight miles from Milton Keynes apparently, the best railway station option but that would mean walking along a busy main road with no footpath and it would get dark along the way. I walked on a few miles down lanes, following the planned route and eventually saw a sign indicating a pub in a village one mile away, Little Horwood in North Buckinghamshire. When I got there, the pub was closed but it was next to the village church of St.Nicholas. 'Ah', I thought, as the daylight began to fade and the temperature started to drop, 'I could stay warm in there and try and get someone to pick me up or order a cab'

A lady was just leaving the church and said I could sit in the church so long as I switched the lights off before I left. This was quite a relief as there was now a distinct chill in the winter wind so I entered the church and phoned home. It wasn't quite the sacrifice of sailing over to France to help evacuate the troops from Dunkirk, but would my wife and daughter take a trip up the M1 for me? Yes they would, and I am so grateful.....! They gave up what they were doing and, very kindly, headed north.

Shortly afterwards a gentleman entered the church to fix the organ, and also agreed that I could stay whilst awaiting rescue. Then four adults and a toddler arrived, 3 generations of a family with son and wife bringing toddler to visit grandparents. The son and wife were cyclists and the son enquired about my mechanical issues while his father told me a little about the church which passed some time. Next a lady from the village popped in and said she had a van if I wanted a lift somewhere? I suggested London was a bit far and, anyway, my wife was on her way but thanked her for her kind offer. Soon another lady came in and asked if I'd like a cup of tea. I really wanted one but felt a little bit embarrassed to put her to any trouble and said 'no'. I really don't know why I said 'no' but about two minutes later the senior gentleman from the family I had chatted to earlier walked in unannounced with a mug of tea and some biscuits anyway! Finally, came the lady with the key whose duty was to lock the church at night but she agreed to come back later when I'd gone.

To kill some time I got my phone out and posted a picture on Facebook of me in front of the 12th Century church's 600 year old interior murals (only discovered in 1889 during church renovations I discovered later), together with a short explanation of my situation and was overwhelmed by the good wishes and kind comments from people I don't even know....a massive response from fellow cyclists nationwide.

This epiphany had been quite a humbling experience, in a world where people seem to want to be outraged or offended at any minor thing or constantly attack institutions and businesses, it reminded me that benevolence and kindness are so much nicer, more positive and far more powerful.

SUNDAY 24th DECEMBER 2017 PART 2: AFTER DUNKIRK

Like the British Army in 1940, after being rescued it was time to evaluate the loss of equipment. The cost of a new frame, derailleur, front light and cycling kit will hurt financially, and it's ironic that I only recently gave away a perfectly good frame with similar specifications to a charity called Recycle-a-Bike in Uxbridge. They build and repair bikes, have a workshop, a small shop and a cafe all run by volunteers who train people with mental health issues so that they can rebuild their lives and get back in to the workplace. They take donations of bikes and bike parts and build some wonderful bikes too.....please donate if you have any excess, or old, parts at home! This is a real down to earth charity and deserves our support in my view.

Despite the inevitable monetary cost though, this day will be remembered by me as being very special. Like Dunkirk, this was a defeat but it felt like a victory, a victory for morality. I was overwhelmed by the human kindness I experienced. I have made a donation to the church by post, I hope the money is put to a use befitting the kindness shown to me by the parishioners. It occurred to me later that the name 'Santa Claus' is, of course, derived from the name 'St.Nicholas', as the church is named, how appropriate on Christmas Eve!

MONDAY 25th DECEMBER 2017: ON THE HOME FRONT

So, at home with the family on Christmas Day meant some time for contemplation. My plan for the Festive 500 was about 75km short already and not looking good. Alongside requiring kilometres towards the Rapha Festive 500, I was in month eleven of a double 'Randonneur Round The Year' Award (RRTY) and I needed another 200km ride by 31 December. This particular Audax UK award involves riding at least one 200km audax in each of twelve consecutive calendar months and I was doing two per month, a 'double RRTY'

I recognise how much cycling's eco system relies on the hard, unpaid, work of event organisers and volunteers and I had felt that I should put something back in to local cycling's eco system, to 'do my bit', as it were. Actions speak louder than words, so I now organise the Westerley CC club kit orders (could Rapha do a club deal at Bob Cratchit prices perhaps?), help out at the club's annual reliability ride and various audaxes run by others, devise some routes for charity rides and in 2017 I ran my first Audax Calendar Event attracting 175 entries and generating cash towards club funds.

I doubt if many participants of events really know how much time and effort goes in to planning routes, but I spent months experimenting and testing routes for my first event. I intend to run a completely new route every year and 2018's route is now finalised with entries already coming in. I will spend a lot of 2018 devising the 2019 routes and had already plotted a prototype 100km version on my computer. Following Christmas day at home with the family maybe I could do a first test on Boxing Day (26th December)? So, I dug out an old/winter bike and set off into the (relatively) unknown.

TUESDAY 26th DECEMBER 2017: THE BATTLE OF BRITAIN

Despite the Festive 500 setback I was determined to fight on with Churchillian conviction. Today's ride would pass both Bushey Hall, HQ of RAF Fighter Command during The Battle of Britain, and the bunker at RAF Uxbridge from where the Battle of Britain was co-ordinated.

Unfortunately the prototype route had incorporated the odd unpassable (on a road bike in winter) muddy bridleway but with a bit of guesswork I re-routed, smiling with some degree of satisfaction on reuniting with the course. However, self satisfaction is not a virtue and my bubble was swiftly burst when my rear derailleur cable snapped shortly afterwards and I couldn't seem to get the broken cable wrapped around my bottle cage tightly enough to hold the chain in a mid-range cog. For the next 20kms I felt every incline with the chain in the hardest gear. Faced with the seeming impossibility of the climb up the Chiltern Ridge at Wiggington I decided to have another go and did manage to secure the cable to the bottle cage tightly enough this time, thereby getting all the way up the climb without faltering. In total I managed a total of 120kms suffering restricted gear choices for 80kms of it, but short of my target again.

En route, one young rider took pity then cycled with me for a while after seeing my plight and it occurred to me that cycling even bridges generation gaps! Generally I find most road cyclists polite and supportive, one even said 'watcha' to me during this ride, which was novel. I haven't heard anyone say 'watcha' for many, many years! I mentioned it to my 22 year old daughter when I got home, she had no idea what it even meant!

Earlier that day I had come across another rider walking along pushing his bike. The young Australian explained that he had borrowed someone else's bike and got a puncture before realising that the valve on the inner tube that he had brought was too short for his friend's deep rimmed wheels. I checked the two inner tubes in my saddlebag, quite willing to give him one, but their valves were also too short. Fortunately he had already called for help earlier and someone was driving out to pick him up so we chatted a while, empathising with each other's Abortive Christmas Cycle Ride Rescue stories.

Another day of camaraderie and a touch of that wartime spirit perhaps?

WEDNESDAY 27th DECEMBER 2017: A BOMBSHELL

In the process of getting involved with local cycling I have set up a Facebook Group called ACONS for audaxers in West London and the Chilterns so that we could all arrange local sorties together from time to time, multi club rides one might call them. This led to me organising a free event on the 27th of December for local riders, an 80km ride into the Chilterns which I had set up before deciding to enter the Rapha Festive 500, but this 80km contribution now suited my goals perfectly!

We all agreed to move the ride back 24 hours to Thursday based on the dreadful weather forecast so I switched my scheduled days at work. At 8.30am I got a call at work saying that my father had just died, not entirely unexpected, but it meant leaving work and going to comfort my mother. I looked out of the window and it had started to snow in London, maybe that postponement of the ride was some sort of divine intervention and was meant for a reason? Even more spooky was that when we arrived at my father's care home one of their boilers had broken down that morning as if marking my father's demise - my father had been a heating engineer!

My mother was in awe of the way the wonderful care home staff had reacted and comforted her. She said that some were in tears, which I think says something about their dedication as they must see death fairly regularly, one might expect. On my previous visits I had certainly been impressed, but their concern at the end surpassed all my expectations. Another heart warming experience this Christmas.

Later in the day, I started getting texts from other riders as the weather forecast was worsening....it was going to be icy at 9.30am on Thursday and we agreed after some discussion, inevitably, to cancel the ride.

THURSDAY 28th DECEMBER 2017: REMEMBERING OLD COMRADES

My father's death was the third significant death of 2017 for me. Whilst my father's was anticipated I had been shocked by two sudden deaths of friends harking back to my younger days as an urban DJ. However, one funeral had reconnected me with Andre who had left London a number of years back but was visiting his mother in Shepherd's Bush for Christmas and we were catching up again in the evening. My ride would need to start late enough to avoid the morning ice but I needed to be back in time to wash and scrub up for an evening of 'Back in the Day' reminiscing.

I started the morning, scraping thick ice off the car in order to give my daughter a lift before setting about replacing Tuesday's broken gear cable. Unfortunately, however, the ice was still around at midday and skinny road bike tyres were very likely to replicate a scene from Bambi. I then had the idea of getting my mountain bike out for the first time in over a year and, promptly did a few local loops of suburban traffic fumes. I can't say it was the most satisfying ride ever but I had forgotten just how nice riding a hardtail mountain bike was! I would not have bothered going out if it weren't for the Festive 500 challenge and it had reintroduced me to another old friend, my mountain bike! Two reunions with old friends in one day,...splendid stuff! 

FRIDAY 29th DECEMBER 2017: OPERATION OVERLORD WEATHER WATCHING

I needed to go in to work on Friday, but inevitably there was a great deal of weather watching hoping for kind weather, just as the Allies had done in the run up to Operation Overlord' or 'D-Day' in 1944. Similarly, there was only a two day window of opportunity left, Saturday and Sunday and I needed a 200km ride.

SATURDAY 30th DECEMBER 2017: D-DAY

Like the British Army returning to the French coast in 1944, I went back to do the Christmas Eve ride and set out early. At 6am the wind was strong with many flooded lanes from the night's rainfall and debris from trees and gardens all over the place as I fought my way through the 'bocage'. In the pitch black lanes the potholes were hidden by standing water and twigs and debris seemed to constantly jam under my mudguards. I stopped to move people's bins, blown across the road, back in their driveways in keeping with the community spirit that I had recently rediscovered.

I managed 228km but struggled all day with strong side winds out and back. I nearly got blown off my bike a few times but I beamed as I passed Chesham knowing that I had done enough for the Rapha Festive 500. Despite the laborious effort I was putting in, the hours were well spent reflecting upon my dad's life. I wished I had asked him more about his jazz nights, his post war cycling and a few other things but I recalled some nice memories including that day he bought my first ever bike from a cycle shop near Egham station. This solitude was quality time, perhaps not as a cycle ride but this was an important, reflective, day in my life nevertheless.

SUNDAY 31st DECEMBER 2017: A SALUTE

I needed to go to work on Sunday to make up time spent cycling or with my family earlier in the week, but I was buzzing from completing the Rapha Festive 500. I set off for work in wind and rain, 'Storm Dylan' still lurking, sparing a thought for those completing the Festive 500 today. I also paused to reflect that there must have been a lot of disappointed participants elsewhere where 'Storm Dylan' hit hardest. I hope they will have another go next year, although I actually thought the uncertainty, with the weather being the prime variable, really added to the buzz of the Festive 500. Well done to those who completed regardless, I salute you.

THE EPILOGUE

Cycling, business and everyday life involve 'communities'. In the past when Rapha was based in Kentish Town I had I visited their premises where the enthusiastic staff displayed genuine passion for their work. I had ridden a few miles once chatting with one of their employees who exhibited similar zeal. During 2017 I was asked, in an interview, for a comment on any brand that had particularly impressed me. I cited Rapha, because I felt that they recognised and shared the cycling community's passion, even incorporating it into their marketing. I once heard an ex employee of Yahoo comment that they were outdone by Google because Google built a community at the outset whereas Yahoo was prioritising more on building a business model first. Rapha did not have a direct hand in my festive experiences but they had had a small role in facilitating them. The Festive 500 is open to all without even requiring a purchase. It may be subtle marketing but Rapha puts something back in to our community without obligation on the part of the participant, 'no strings attached'. Significantly for me though Rapha have inspired me to document an emotional week of my life by inviting stories about 'The Spirit of the Festive 500'. I would never have documented these significant eight days of my life without that invitation.

Anyone completing the Rapha Festive 500 gets a sew on patch sent free of charge. I could dedicate it to the memory of my father, who taught me to ride a bike, made me build a bike for the first time and died during an epic week of cycling. But that would just be a token gesture. I could claim that I did it for my dad, but that simply would not be true. What is true though is that the Festive 500 patch will, forever, remind me of this week and evoke a lifetime of memories of my father. It will hold a special, symbolic, significance for me personally for the rest of my life. 

In a year during which I had scored 115 Audax points (17th best in the UK), ridden London-Edinburgh-London, Lands-End to John O'Groats, The Dunwich Dynamo (and back home), The Bryan Chapman Memorial 600, Holyhead to Dulwich for Duchenne Disease, London-Wales-London, Liege-Bastogne-Liege and L'Etape du Tour, the experience of the 2017 Rapha Festive 500 ranked up there with all of them. It was undoubtedly the most emotional but weather, work and circumstances meant it was also tense, edgy and exciting insofar that I was never sure that I would make the 500kms by the deadline.

Christmas 2017 may prove to be the most memorable ever for me, who knows? It has had plenty of low moments but somehow the better end of human nature has reared its head and given me hope that the world is, perhaps, a nicer place than many would have us believe. To those people who constantly seek to be outraged and offended, may I recommend you switch mode to benevolence? There is a joy and warmth in both giving and receiving kindness and it can be infectious for everyone's benefit. This story started because Rapha offered a free badge with no reciprocation expected for example. In a play on Charles Dickens' character from a Christmas Carol, how about 'A toast to Christmas (just) passed'?