What this bike says about me
So who are you?
I’m Dave Preece and I’m 42. I’ve had my penny-farthing for about seven years. It’s a replica and it cost £1,500.
And what does your bike say about you?
That I’m slightly eccentric. I’m not that “retro”, really – I have a modern phone and a digital camera – but I like the simplicity of the bike’s design and the fact that you can still cross the country on it and live to tell the tale.
You did what?
I’ve cycled from Land’s End to John O’Groats on a normal bike, and wanted to do it on this one. It took me 15 days.
So you like a challenge?
I do. Loads of people say they’d like to do something “one day”. Well, crack on then, I say. I did my bike ride for the National Deaf Children’s Society. My wife’s deaf and she was helped a lot by them when she was younger.
What’s it like to ride?
It’s not especially difficult, if you have a bit of help to get on and off. You can’t stand up on it and the pedals are fixed. Everyone loves my bike. I sometimes call it Penny.
And what it really says, by Miranda Sawyer
Middle age is a time when a bicycle speaks to a man. The call of the bike is strong, then, as strong as it was when you were under 10. When you cycle, you enjoy your body in the same way you did when you were a child: cycling, like swimming, is a sport you can do into middle age and beyond, because your ageing physique doesn’t have to support its changing weight. Also, cycling is a legitimate distraction. In your central years, when you’re settled, with responsibilities to home and family, you won’t often get support from your partner if you say, of a Saturday, “Dearest, I’m planning on avoiding domestic chores by snoozing on the sofa for seven hours.” But if you say, “Dearest, I’m going cycling all day,” you may well get away with it.
All this applies to Dave. But it’s given a twist by the fact that he’s on a penny farthing. Penny farthings are really scary to cycle, despite their genteel appearance: you have to be fit and brave to get up on one of those things. Dave’s refinement conceals a tougher man than you might think.
The fact that he’s dressed as he is demonstrates a few things, too. One, that he has that complete-ist element common to all true cycle buffs: he’s wearing all the right gear, as on trend as if he were encased in Rapha. Two, his outfit gives him authenticity. When men shift to wearing well-made, adult clothes, they are indicating not only that they’re grown-up, but that they have roots in Englishness. And three, it demonstrates that he’s a genial show-off.
Extreme hobbyists need to be acknowledged as special, and anyone who displays their hobby all the way from Land’s End to John O’Groats really wants to be noticed and to make friends. Chapeau, Dave!
If you’d like Miranda to cast an eye over your favourite possession, email a photo to magazine@observer.co.uk
