Bob Perry wrote to the project to tell us how his love of cycling was born out of a memorable weekend in Bridlington as a teenager:
“It was Whitsuntide 1945 and my mates at Rossington Methodist Chapel Youth Club were going by bike to Bridlington for the weekend. I wanted to go with them so my parents bought a second-hand bike for me from a neighbour.
I was 15 years old and worked as an apprentice in Doncaster. In those days we worked 46 ½ hours per week, finishing at 12 noon on Saturday, so it was a rush for me to get home to Rossington to fit new brake blocks and mudguards to my bike before setting off. The party consisted of nine or ten lads, all one or two years older than I was, but we all got along well together and were looking forward to camping at Brid.
However, when we arrived at the town it was very windy and teeming down with rain and after a feeble attempt to pitch the tents we gave up. By this time it was getting dark, so someone suggested we go to the police station and ask there for help. The desk sergeant said he knew the ideal place for us to use; an air raid shelter. It was an oblong building with a concrete roof, no windows and no lights inside, but what it did have was two rows of double bunk-beds – just the bare frames and springs, but in the circumstances very welcome.
When we had all settled down in pitch black darkness we gradually drifted off to sleep, listening to Bert telling us the horror story ‘The Monkey’s Paw’. Next morning, the lads who had slept on the bottom bunk beds were covered in red dust, which was caused by the person in the top bunk because when they moved it disturbed the rust and sprinkled the bunk below – amusing to some but not to others!
It was an eventful weekend and it sent me on the road to being a cyclist, a Y.H.A. manager and all the pleasures that brings.”
If Bob’s story has brought back any memories for you, we’d love you to get in touch and share your cycling story with us.