Velo Retro’s annual vintage rally is an antidote to the relentless advancement of tech in the bike industry – a return to a simpler time, pre-1990s, of steel frames, down-tube shifters, lugwork and toe clips.
I join the event in Ulverston, Cumbria, with 500 others, queueing in the cobbled market square for the Grand Départ of four leisure rides from 15 to 50 miles round southern Lakeland, Coniston and Windermere.
A few people are in period costume. There are two chaps in plus fours and bow ties; a woman in a wartime granny frock and hat on her basketed shopper; a couple in tennis gear with a wooden racket protruding from their tandem’s pannier.
Most, however, are in Lycra, often with a slightly faded classic club jersey and cap. I’m in a cotton T-shirt, sun hat and shorts – like when I started cycle touring 45 years ago. That's the same era as the Claud Butler I’m riding.
Festival founder Alan gives us all a few friendly words of guidance before we start: watch out on the lane alongside Coniston shore, the dappled light can hide nasty tree roots; mind the gravel on the forest tracks through Grizedale and be nice to other users; be careful on the big downhill back into Ulverston – it’s a challenge for old brakes. But above all, enjoy the ride.
We set off in pulses of two dozen or so, into the morning sunshine and back into that elusive, sepia-coloured thing called the golden age of cycling.
How old?
For Velo Retro, ‘vintage’ essentially means ‘pre-1990’. Until then, racing and touring bikes had changed little since World War Two.
But soon after, engineering trickle-down and tech marketeering began a period of seemingly ceaseless tech developments in cycling.
STIs (Shimano Total Integration, which incorporated the gear shifter into the brake shifter controls on the handlebar), cleats, carbon fibre, alternative geometries, disc brakes, tubeless tyres, electronic shifting…
Velo Retro represents a clearing of the air, a back to basics. The attraction of vintage bikes is summed up compellingly by one entrant, Richard, who is riding a 1980s Raleigh Record Ace.
On a practical level, he says, a decent classic steel-framed, down-tube-shifter bike is reliable, straightforward to maintain and repair, and a comfortable joy to ride.
His Record Ace is his everyday machine, for commuting, pubbing and touring. It helps him connect with that notion of a simpler, easier age. A vintage bike can help restore a lost sense of excitement and freedom, he says.
The Record Ace certainly brings back memories for me: it’s the same model and colour as a bike I rode from London to Athens in 1996 with the woman I still cycle with.
Vintage bikes spark conversations: “My grandad had a saddle bag like that”… ”My dad used to time trial on one of those”… “I remember those terrible lights".
Every bike tells a story
At the first food stop, maybe 100 of us are fuelling up on sandwiches and tea in Coniston. The queue’s so long that the bikes are getting a bit more vintage.
There’s diversity here, although not, granted, in the riders. Most are white middle-aged men, like me. Unlike me, most have a solid racing or club background – and perhaps a beard.
But there’s variety in the bikes: rainbow colours, Raleighs, Carltons, Mercians, Colnagos…
And there’s a roll-call of English-name frame makers and brands: Bob Jackson, Bob Griffin, Ken Ryall, Hugh Porter, Dave Marsh, Johnny Berry, Harry Quinn, Harry Hall…
Every bike has a story, and one the riders are delighted to tell you over a sausage roll or almond slice.
There’s Richard with his Kas team bike that did the Giro in the 1970s; he shipped it back from Italy.
There’s Ian with the Johnny Berry his racer dad rode, and eventually carried, over a snowbound Stelvio in the 1960s; the bike went through various family hands as road bike, shopper and commuter before Ian had it professionally restored to the original colour and spec.
There’s Roger, a cheery everyday cyclist still at 77, with his 1951 Ellis Briggs done out the same as the winner of that year’s Tour of Britain.
Some tales are poignant: Evelyn is riding a 1984 Eroba, a Dutch racer. It belonged to a great friend of hers recently departed. This trip is in his memory. Lumps in throats all-round.
A few have caught the collecting bug. David and Lesley have ‘17 or 18’ MKMs, a niche but respected 1970s bike crafted in Harrogate.
They’re each riding one today, complete with bespoke saddle bags made by Carradice to match the frame colour.
Pete, meanwhile, who’s here on a Raleigh complete with a saddle bag like mine, says he has 30 vintage bikes in one bedroom of his two-up, two-down house.
Pass the source
My Claud Butler came from Resurrection Bikes, a recycling charity in Harrogate.
They refurbish donated machines and sell them for bargain price, sending the money to good causes in struggling countries ravaged by war, disaster or corrupt governance.
I test-rode several and fell instantly for the light, fast tourer with regulation period spec: Reynolds 531, Brooks saddle and Weinmann brakes.
The narrow bar and responsive ride, lithe and taut, had the smooth vertical grace of an ice skater.
It reminded me of my first proper bike, a Raleigh Clubman acquired back in January 1979.
The Claud was in superb nick, complete with toe clips and period pump slotted in the frame. Everything worked. I rode it away gleefully.
On getting it home, online research suggested it was a Claud Butler Jubilee, made in… January 1979! Fate, clearly.
For Velo Retro, I got more period kit – a Camper Longflap saddle bag from Carradice. It smells pleasantly like a school satchel and easily swallows enough gear for my weekend away.
And it feels eerily weightless: with the bag’s load on the seatpost, the Claud handles as zippily as if unladen. Less practical are the brick-like old Ever Ready lights I borrowed.
They take batteries the size of baked bean tins, which give up after half an hour of faint yellow candelight.
End of the ride
It’s mid-afternoon back in Ulverston. A steady trickle of riders clatter wearily over market square cobbles to the finish.
Each rider gets a medal and a voucher for drinks at the Sun Inn. Everyone is smiling.
It’s been a long but lovely day. Hot and sunny on Grizedale’s exposed forest roads, but with welcome shade on Coniston’s waterside lane and the shoreline gravel path of Windermere.
We’ve had lush, green, rolling southern-Lakes hillscapes everywhere. Some riders have taken it easy, some have gunned it – many old bikes can still be ridden hard and fast.
Organiser Alan happily reports that, in all the 35,000 person-kilometres ridden, there were a few mechanicals but no first-aid incidents.
Velo Retro’s 10th edition will be remembered nostalgically by many, including me. Is that meta-nostalgia?
Velo Retro takes place from 30 May to 1 June 2025, with routes ranging from 24-99km. Visit Velo Retro for more information.
