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the rough-stuff fellowship archive. adventures with the world's oldest off-road cycling club. isola publishing hardback 207pp illus. £30

rough-stuff fellowship

as is the case every sunday morning, those of us almost within shouting distance of each other in bowmore village, meet up at the crossroads on main street, to head north(ish) then southwest to debbie's for the grand départ. yesterday morn, on the way out of the village, one of the now ubiquitous motorhomes was parked up adjacent to the last (holiday) cottage on the left side of shore street. hanging on a rear bike-rack were two brightly coloured, modern mountain bikes, presumably to aid their owners in the quest for an active holiday break.

with the weather being uncharacteristically warm and eventually sunny, though still with the stiff headwind that pervades pretty much every month of the year, we opted to perambulate loch gorm on a road that not only passes kilchoman distillery, but leads us past saligo bay, on islay's atlantic coast. it was a similar route to that i undertook the previous day, and where there would usually be substantial waves breaking on saligo shore, due to the direction of the weekend wind, the waters were pretty much flat calm. something of a disappointment, i'd imagine, for the couple unloading surfboards from the roof of their volkswagen estate.

it's not at all unusual to witness mountain bikes on bike racks, for the legendary wide-open spaces to be found pretty much all across the island, apparently promise, if not encourage, those with more of a sense of adventure than the average road peloton. sadly, the promise remains more or less unfulfilled. most of those wide open spaces, while relatively easily accessible, do not lend themselves to being joyously ridden by even state-of-the-art mountain bikes.

however, it seems that the occupants of the aforesaid motorhome were perhaps not as active as the presence of the bicycles would suggest. for, despite the highly clement weather conditions, not only had the motorhome not moved one centimetre, but both bikes were precisely where they'd been when we'd left earlier that same morning. perhaps the possibility of rough stuff was less enticing than they'd thought?

but mountain bikes, whether comprised of 26", 650b or twenty-niner wheels are the current end of the road, rather than its genesis, preceded by quite a number of years by the rough-stuff fellowship. it's an organisation born in the mid-fifties "To bind together in understanding fellowship those cyclists who love to wander off the beaten track of Moor, Fen, Wold, Down, and the ancient drove roads and tracks in the high hills." in 1954, liverpudlian bill paul sent a letter to both the bicycle and cycling magazines calling for other rough-stuff aficionados to join him in a fellowship.

in may 1955, 40 cyclists answered the call at the black swan hotel, leominster, and the rough-stuff fellowship was born. however, ever since the arrival of the safety bicycle in the late nineteenth century, there had been those keen to take the new invention off what, at the time, passed for the beaten track. it's a trend that continues to the present day, but it's unlikely that contemporary members of the fellowship could surpass their predecessors in documenting their often extensive travels.

this marvellous book, curated by max leonard and myfanwy vernon-hunt, exists as the result of kickstarter funding, contributors to which are listed in the latter pages. it documents days long past, via an incredible array of images, the likes of which will probably not be surpassed by even the plethora of digital photographs that pervade every nook and cranny of modern existence. the book arrived with a sew-on patch proclaiming 'i never go for a walk without my bike', the fulfilment of which can be seen in almost all the images within this excellent book.

though the rough-stuff fellowship is ostensibly a gathering of cyclists in thrall to riding across wild countryside, the vast majority of those images depict the bicycles being pushed, carried, and hauled across the least bike-friendly territory of which you could conceive. this includes the summit of mount snowdon, through deep snow at grindleton fell and the khumbu glacier in the himalayas. all these escapades and more were undertaken on lugged steel touring bikes, with tyres featuring decidedly heavier treads than those seen in the tour de france. and though it will surely do little other than cement my reputation as a luddite, there is great joy to be gained from viewing the brake cables exiting the top of the brake levers.

it's undeniable that every last page of this book is indulgent nostalgia, but in truth, it's a great deal more. it documents an age that coincided with the end of wartime petrol rationing and the subsequent rise of the personal motor car. it was a time when exploration of the less accessible corners of the world by bicycle was arguably greater than is the case today, yet apparently not regarded as anything greatly out of the ordinary. adherents of the rough stuff fellowship were probably seen as eccentric as opposed to the cool factor that classifies today's mountain bikers. it's a fellowship that still exists today; if this book engenders likeminded notions, the web address is but a click away, below the end of this review.

but for even the less adventurous, such as yours truly, it is no less of a recommended purchase for anyone who considers themselves a cyclist of whatever affiliation.

the rough-stuff fellowship | buy the book

monday 24 june 2019

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