Burnley and Pendle

Cyclists Touring Club

Archives

Archives

Selected articles and press clippings from the club archives

Thursday, 14 May 2020 20:14

A Camping Holiday in Lakeland - c1931

September holidays, the problem of the moment. How does one obtain an enjoyable holiday when the exchequer is low? Does one stay at home and re-hash the memories of one’s mid-summer holiday? Certainly not. Let me tell you how thirty-three members of the Nelson Section of the Cyclists’ Touring Club managed it. They loaded their bicycles with tents, pots, pans and other camping requisites, and after a rather tedious journey through the pouring rain eventually arrived at Ambleside, the chosen headquarters. Fortunately, the rain cleared in time to allow us to pitch our tents without any discomfort on the edge…
Wednesday, 06 May 2020 19:08

Camping in the Clouds - c1931

How good it feels to be on the road again after sizzling for four days in the tropical atmosphere of the factory Thus though I was, accompanied by my clubmates I sped swiftly along to Skipton. How good it felt to breathe deeply the bracing air of the countryside and feel the cool breeze gently caressing our cheeks and hands as we coasted swiftly down the hills, revelling in the prospect of a week-end’s freedom with congenial companions in the Dales. Who, amongst cyclists, would not be a camper if he only knew and understood the many pleasures of this…
Tuesday, 28 April 2020 17:53

The Silverdale Run - c1931

"Dring-g-g-g!!" Curse you, alarm clock. Shurrup ' “Dring-g g-g!” Oh, all right, I'm getting up. What, 6 am.? Heavens, what an unearthly hour to rise. Well, well, it’s for a good cause. These, and other ejaculations, occurred prior to my departure for Higherford last Sunday to join the Silverdale run. But even rising at such an hour failed to get me to the meeting place at the appointed time. As it happened, however, there were only a few assembled, about four, I think. Magnificently. I gave any of them permission to pump up my tyres, but to my intense disgust,…
Sunday! With tousled heads and bleary eyes, the various members of the Nelson Section of the C.T.C. jumped, slid or crawled from between the sheets, and with noses pressed to windows, surveyed glistening roofs and lowering clouds. Suppressing groans, they gulped down breakfasts, packed food, and at times ranging between eight and ten o’clock, launched forth on their trusty steeds in the direction of Malham. As the official route was via Whalley, it is possible that a few actually reached that becobbled village; but many, knowing of shorter and smoother ways, utilized that knowledge and travelled direct. The advance guard,…
Thursday, 09 April 2020 19:29

The Club in the Bowland Hills - c1930

I rolled up to Fence on Sunday last as the bells of the Parish Church were chiming the hour of nine. Hercules, who has a passion for punctuality, informed me that I was ten seconds late, but I had not time to argue the matter for some unkind flint had penetrated the armour-plating of my rear tyre and the air contained therein was apparently anxious to return to its native element. The task of repairing the puncture took some twenty minutes to complete, and as my fellow-members had departed for Whalley some five minutes previously, I hurriedly packed away my…
Not caring for the usual route to Settle, and also, I must add, for tearing our hearts out behind the energetic ones, five of us decided to go by the quieter ways that lead through Paythorne, straggling Wigglesworth and Rathmell to Settle. The road is hillier and occasionally one encounters stretches of rough surface, but this is amply compensated for by the pleasant views over the Bowland Fells and the loftier heights of the backbone of England. Along these byways we sauntered, taking as we went our full share of the fruits of the hedgerows. Here and there we paused…
Thursday, 09 April 2020 16:50

A Weekend in Dentdale - c1930

With the intention of spending a week-end under canvas, I made my way — not without sundry rattlings of pots and pans — to Higherford. Here I was joined by my fellow campers, and after a few moments respite we commenced the ascent of Coldweather Hill. Threatening black clouds had gathered over our heads ere we reached the summit, and we sped down the hill in a vain attempt to avoid the shower which was imminent. Arriving in Gisburn, we were greeted with a shower of rain, but, nothing daunted, we carried on until the rain ceased and the sun…
Wednesday, 08 April 2020 19:15

On the Trail with the C.T.C. - c1930

If any of my readers had perchance found themselves in Settle on Sunday last, about the time when one is usually seated with legs under the table partaking of the mid-day meal, they would have seen a crowd of cyclists, all with the "do or die" expression on their faces, busy pumping up tyres, unstrapping saddle bags, and they would also have seen one other cyclist with a smile on his face talking to "Phyllygott," a young lady who is hoping to be a cyclist some day.The smile may have been for the said young lady, but I think it…
Wednesday, 08 April 2020 18:40

A Sunday Scramble - c1930

"Good morning, everybody"; I propped my bicycle against a wall, and mingled with my fellow members who were gathered at our meeting place at Higherford. It was raining slightly, but not sufficiently to make us don our capes. Our number continued to increase, and at ten o'clock we started upon out journey to Long Ghyll. The top of Coldweather Hill was soon reached, and we sped down into Gisburn and on to Settle, where a halt was made to recover from our exertions, smoke, or imbibe "soft" drinks, according to our inclinations. The halt was not protracted, for some motor…
No doubt many readers of "C.T.C. Notes" are wondering who and what the C.T.C. is, and in what way it caters for cyclists. Hence this attempt to enlighten them, and to show that it is to the interests of all cyclists, whether they are club or solo riders, or if they just ride a bicycle for business purposes, to be members. First of all the cost. Ten shilling per year and one shilling entrance fee; 2½d per week for the privilege of having apowerful organisation, well-equipped with funds, and continually watching and working in your interests. Should you be underthe…
My first intimation of the mystery of the missing campers was the sight of “Derailleur" riding down the Abbeystead road from the Trough of Bowland, with a worried expression on his face and a load of camp kit on his bicycle. Considering the fact that the camp was supposed to be at the site up the valley at Marshall Farm, this appearance was rather surprising, and his greeting, "Well, have you seen any of them ?” only served to deepen the mystery. Upon investigation, I found that the whole of the Nelson C.T.C. camping section had disappeared from the usual…
Whooeee! Ten thousand fiends shrieked and gibbered in the upper air as two of us drove our way to Higherford about 11-45 on Saturday night. With demoniacal laughter they hurled us onwards, and ere the shelter of Higherford could be gained rain caused us to take refuge in our capes. The witching hour of midnight boomed out as we arrived at the meeting place, where three other members were already assembled. By 12-15 a full muster of twelve riders was complete, and, clad in capes, leggings, and sou’westers, we took the road. Steadily we climbed Blacko, and Jupiter Pluvius, thinking…
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News

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Quiz Night - 17th February 2020

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David's 90th Birthday Party

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Christmas Lunch - 2019

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Beryl

We are thinking of running a theatre trip to see "Beryl" by Maxime Peake on 18th Oct. 7.30 p.m (suggested). This extraordinary…