Candy Cranks

It’s been a while since I’ve posted and it’s been a funny couple of months. ‘What’s a wedding and a funeral got to do with cycling?’ you ask. Well in this case a great deal!

On the 23rd January two good friends of mine Jenne and Aram got married. Now even though these two are Yankees we’ve gathered them into our British Bosom and were determined to make sure the day was great! Most of the guests rode to the wedding and then with the bride and groom (the bride constantly worrying about getting her dress caught in the chain) rode to the reception! There must have been around 30 of us on the wedding ride through the streets of South London – it was great! We arrived at the reception tucked into home made enchiladas (thanks Aram’s mum!) and a magnificient bike themed cake (made by my fella) The night then descended into drunken dancing and frivolity as any good wedding does!

So, after that happy event there came a sad one…

On New Years Eve our friend Paul (also known as 50/14 or affectionately ‘fiddy’ due to a badly chosen gearing on a fateful trip to Brighton one day) passed away. He was 62.

Paul was amongst us, somewhat of a legend – a penchant for bling bikes that he wouldn’t think twice about lending you if you were in need. The ability to turn up dressed for a ride completely inappropriately (100 mile ride=jeans, pub ride=full lycra) being involved in some spectacular crashes, amazing stories, a cheeky smile and a heart of gold. He was a man who could fit into any situation, charm every individual he spoke to and inspire so many of us. I remember when I rode to Dunwich last year, I was struggling up a hill in the pitch black cursing myself for thinking I could do the ride, when Paul cruised past me looking as if he wasn’t even trying. I thought if he can do it, I need to HTFU! Paul had that affect on almost everyone he met. He made such a mark on our lives during the short time that we knew him.

Paul was taken from us quickly, when we learnt of the seriousness of his illness our community rallied round like nothing I’ve ever seen. Paul had no immediate family, actually I should say he did..us. The care he received in his last days by everyone involved touched me..it actually brings tears to my eyes thinking about it. Everyone pulled together to ensure he had a fitting send off. So on Friday 29th January around 100 of us met on our bikes to take Fiddy on one last ride. We went round the streets of West London and through Richmond Park, we even crashed the hearse! Well it would be a ride with Fiddy if there wasn’t at least one crash. We rode slowly – several of us taking turns to pull Fiddy along decked out in his favourite Moser decals and world championship stripes. Traffic stopped, people stared – we all rode with smiles on our faces. As we came out of the service the sun came out and the wake was one of the best parties I’ve ever been to. Over a hundred people laughing, drinking, sharing stories. Everytime I went outside I half expected to find Fiddy sitting outside with a pint and a rollie chatting away.

Goodbye you old scrote, I will miss you but will always ride with you in my heart.

Paul, on the bike that named him