Back at the MONT 24 hour race, I decided to be silly and bring along a costume I had worn for a friend’s 40th birthday with a 1940′s theme comprising brown herringbone trousers, suspenders, brown shoes, a white shirt, maroon tie and tweed jacket. Just for the lark of being stupid (as opposed to fast) I wore this attire on two of my three laps of the course. I had a blast, all who passed me (and the few who were passed by me) seemed to take pleasure in my attire.
Little did I know, at the time I was performing this “random act of tweed” that an entire tweed cycling sub culture existed. Yes, like most other misfits, there’s a group for folks like me, somewhere out there in the interweb. Not only that, but there’s a tweed cycling subculture right here in Canberra.
“Hey, you should go on the tweed ride.” someone said upon seeing the photos of me as an uncoordinated idiot sweating my brains out at Sparrow Hill…
Some time later, an invitation turned up in my Facebook account to come along to Canberra Tweed 3…
Having obtained a leave pass from my significant (and utterly cycle apathetic) other, I tootled off this Sunday last, to Garema Place in the centre of Canberra to see who and what would emerge from the undergrowth.
To my amazement, over the course of some 15 minutes, a range of folks appeared, dressed similarly to myself, some sporting full suspension mountain bikes, some hardtails, some modern cruisers an town bikes, some fixies and some retro pieces of vintage goodness.
At a leisurely pace, off we pedalled, over the Commonwealth bridge, across behind the Art Gallery and High Court, around to the Carillion where costumes were judge, heels were cooled, hair was let down, and the collected assemblage of some 40 individuals basked in their non lycra retrospectiveness.
Following this, we headed onwards to a venue for drinks, at which point, the 21′st century intervened and I had to make a departure in order to rescue my wife from our daughter.
No racing, no speed, no technology, no pressure, just folks enjoying getting out on bikes. (and no abuse from passers by)
Does life get better?
“Tonite I’m gonna party like it’s 1949…”
