My first bicycle; the Atomic Flier!

My bicycle resting in the sun today.

I was listening to the radio today as I was restringing my guitar and there was an Englishman called Robert Penn who purported to have cycled every day for the last 36 years and owns 5 of them; bikes that is.

The commentator said that even though he owns five bikes, has written a new book about them and uses the bike every day, he can't remember the first bicycle he ever owned.

I remember the first bicycle I owned; the first grown up one, not the little toy ones we got from Santa Claus in our giant stocking.

My first bicycle was called The Atomic Flier!

When I was about 12 or 13 we lived a very comfortable life in South View Terrace, Moseley Road, Birmingham, in a terraced house.

I attended Dennis Road SMBS; that is Dennis Road Secondary Modern Boys' School. These schools produced factory fodder for industry or shop assistants; some boys would be lucky enough to serve an apprenticeship if they showed an aptitude for something in particular; maybe a toolmaker, a butcher or a barber.

I wanted to be a barber as my dad used to be a barber in Dublin. It was the reason we lived in England as he couldn't get enough heads to cut to make a living.

I called in to every barber's shop in the area and I was very fortunate to have failed to get any kind of job that I would have eventually hated; just like my dad.

But back to the bike; even though we were quite comfortable living in our terraced house in South View Terrace, I couldn't afford a bike of my own. My dad had a bike which he would ride to work each day – a Raleigh.

A lot of kids at school had bikes; some with dropped handlebars, some with straight handlebars and some that were a very strange shape; rather like the shape of some of the Harley Davidson motor bikes we see now and again cruising around Hollywood.

A lot of these bikes would have their handlebars taped with a kind of white sticky tape; this would cover up various imperfections such as rust.

I had to walk to and from to school every day and it seemed like miles from the house; I could walk along Moseley Road for about two hundred yards or so then turned left into St. Paul's Road which went all the way down to Ladypool Road, which must have been about 400 yards and then another long walk through a park and into Dennis Road School; even if I'm wrong with the distances it was a bloody long walk.

Or I could go all the way along Moseley Road to Brighton Road and walk to the bottom till it became Taunton Road then do a right into Dennis Road and go into the school; this way took me passed Irene Tabone's house at number 12 Brighton Road. Irene Tabone the love of this 13 year old's life who was very well developed for her age, Greek and who smiled very sweetly at me every time I saw her.

In fact every time she smiled at me I melted on the spot!

I met her first when I was about 11 or 12 and we played and fought and wrestled and I would let her pin my shoulders to the floor – but we never really spoke after that formally; she just smiled sweetly when I passed her in the street; sometimes that would be very near number 12 Brighton Road.

One day my dad came home from work and said there was an old bike at the place he worked; all I had to do was to go and ride it home.

He was the manager of Lawley Street British Rail Goods Depot which was relatively a long way from where we lived but one day I made it there and found my dad's office; he took me across to the shed where my bike was waiting for me.

There it was leaning against a wall and I could see it hadn't been moved for years as cobwebs were attaching it to the wall; the whole thing was very rusty and it didn't have dropped handlebars or even straight ones; it didn't even have cable brakes and basically looked like this:

A very old bike with 'sit up and beg' handlebars but you know – at the time I was delighted with it.

I rode it home and got to work on it; I bought a bicycle pump, some white tape from the bicycle shop on Moseley Road and some 3 in 1 oil together with some new brake blocks and a sticker for the crossbar; the sticker said Atomic Flier!

After working on it over the weekend I proudly rode it to school on the Monday; I went the Brighton Road route and as I passed Irene Tabone's house I looked across to her door – but she wasn't there.

At school I told my mates I had a bike and heard one of them answer back 'you should see it!'

Yes they all came out at playtime and laughed at it; to a man – or a boy – they stood there and laughed and then one of them saw the sticker Atomic Flier! That was the cue for everybody to laugh; including me; suddenly I thought it was hilarious.

Irene Tabone attended a girls' school somewhere else – I don't know where – but because I now had a bike I could get to the corner of Brighton Road and Moseley Road sooner to gaze upon her beauty and be the recipient of her radiant smile as she walked home from school – all thanks to the Atomic Flier!