It’s a sunny Sunday in August 1979, my family and I are living in Mount. I had resigned from my job as PE and Games teacher at a school in Halifax, and taken up an appointment as an Assistant Manager at a Sports and Leisure Centre near Wallasey, on the Wirral. We had one car, having no need for two, as my wife had stopped working to bring up our family, a boy nearly six and a daughter of three.
My new job meant working shifts and I’d come home for the weekend. My next shift started at 4.30pm on the Sunday in question. I decided that my wife needed the car more than I, with a young family, and so I decided to cycle to Wallasey.
I set off in high spirits on that lovely day and was soon off the Pennines and on the A580 East Lancs. Road, pedalling into a prevailing West wind. Travelling that road in a car seems quite flat and easy, but on a bike cycling into the wind, I felt every rise in the road and wished I’d bought a bike with more gears. Mine had five gears and with every little hill, I wished I’d bought one with ten gears; after all, five gears had been ample in the hills of Yorkshire! I pedalled on getting more and more tired, the total journey was 90–100 miles. After 70 miles I felt I’d hit the wall, a bit like the 20-mile mark in a marathon when you have another six to go. As I checked my watch I got more and more worried; would I make it in time?
Then I saw the tall buildings of Liverpool on the skyline and it spurred me on, a bit like the light at the end of the tunnel. I kept checking my watch; would I make it in time? Would there be a ferry on time to “Cross the Mersey!” I was in luck, the ferry was there and with a sense of relief I boarded it, made it to my temporary flat in Wallasey, got cleaned up and changed, and then cycled the last five miles to work on time!
A journey of highs and lows, of hope and expectation, and some depression - a bit like life itself.
By Ieuan Jones
My new job meant working shifts and I’d come home for the weekend. My next shift started at 4.30pm on the Sunday in question. I decided that my wife needed the car more than I, with a young family, and so I decided to cycle to Wallasey.
I set off in high spirits on that lovely day and was soon off the Pennines and on the A580 East Lancs. Road, pedalling into a prevailing West wind. Travelling that road in a car seems quite flat and easy, but on a bike cycling into the wind, I felt every rise in the road and wished I’d bought a bike with more gears. Mine had five gears and with every little hill, I wished I’d bought one with ten gears; after all, five gears had been ample in the hills of Yorkshire! I pedalled on getting more and more tired, the total journey was 90–100 miles. After 70 miles I felt I’d hit the wall, a bit like the 20-mile mark in a marathon when you have another six to go. As I checked my watch I got more and more worried; would I make it in time?
Then I saw the tall buildings of Liverpool on the skyline and it spurred me on, a bit like the light at the end of the tunnel. I kept checking my watch; would I make it in time? Would there be a ferry on time to “Cross the Mersey!” I was in luck, the ferry was there and with a sense of relief I boarded it, made it to my temporary flat in Wallasey, got cleaned up and changed, and then cycled the last five miles to work on time!
A journey of highs and lows, of hope and expectation, and some depression - a bit like life itself.
By Ieuan Jones
