Coming to Whanganui on transfer, my employer kindly gave us a soft-furnishing allowance. We saw that Whanganui was mostly flat, except for the hills; that everybody seemed to ride bikes and the traffic was a lot quieter here than in the big city.
So we raced down to the bike shop that used to be in the Whanganui East shops and purchased three bikes, a brand-new red number with a baby seat and carrier for the bride, a Raleigh 20-type blue bike for the 8-year-old daughter and a second-hand curly-bar 10-speed for me.
Over the following weeks the four of us, the 2-year-old on the baby seat, explored much of Whanganui and its environs. We even had a picnic one day out at Okoia after carefully descending the Okoia Hill.
I was, for the first time in my life, able to ride to work. Living on Durie Hill, we made use of the elevator often.
The sense of freedom cycling as a family gave us was a new experience. Both the boss and I had been keen cyclists as teenagers in our respective hometowns. You had to be keen otherwise you did not go anywhere. Parents were either working or too busy to be bothered driving you places.
Everyone biked in 1980s Whanganui. The roads before and after school were full of cycling kids in groups. Adults rode to and from work early in the morning and later in the afternoon. We had no real cycleways and, from memory, riding on the footpath was frowned upon.
I think it was an offence. I suppose I should really know but I was not a keen enforcer of traffic law as a police officer - too many other more important matters to deal with. Now everyone seems to ride on the footpath so I guess, if it is an offence, the police are not worried.
As time went by, we still cycled but family and work got in both our ways and the kids used bikes more.
A workmate introduced me to road racing at the Whanganui Road Cycling clubrooms in Pūtiki about 1987.
A whole new experience. Scores of very fit people turned up on Saturday afternoons to take part in handicapped Class One and Class Two racing. The Class One riders raced up to 80 kilometres but we, more sedate and less fit Class Two riders, raced between 25km and 40km.
A cycling road race is full-noise from go to whoa; it's really hard work until some level of fitness creeps in. I even took up training rides to help.
The idea was to try to stay in the peloton or bunch and make use of the drafting effect of the other riders around you. It was all good until a hill or some bright spark up front put the hammer down and split the group. It was then just a long lonely ride home to the finish wondering why I ever gave up an easy game like rugby.
Road cycling is a thrilling and slightly addictive pastime. Over the years I somehow managed to drag myself around Lake Taupō, Mt Taranaki and various other cycling challenges.
Once fitness kicks in, it is hugely enjoyable at any rider's skill and endurance level. In time the bride and our son joined me at the club - the lad racing as a novice and then junior, enjoying himself while Mum and Dad supported him at events all over the country.
In those days the cycling club was very family-oriented with large numbers of young riders, most with at least one parent also being a rider.
I have not been directly involved with cycling for some years now, preferring the comfort and slow speed of a mountain bike around the river cycleways on the odd occasion. All my flash, expensive lycra racing gear seems to have shrunk so I'm back to T-shirts and footy shorts when I ride.
Cycling was a very happy family activity for us. I would recommend it to any young family as a very healthy, pleasant way to spend time together.
