Bye-Bye Brompton in Pal-ace

For me, riding a Brompton bike is about more than mere cycling.

I didn’t realize it when I first picked up one of the prestigious folding bikes a bit over a decade ago.

At the time, I just wanted a fold-up bike that wouldn’t break after a few rides as other collapsable cycles I had purchased seemed prone to doing.

What I didn’t know was that bikes need care and maintenance. I know, dumb, but that was what I thought.

Having spent most of my time until then on ultra-durable mama-chari that are virtually unbreakable, I believed all bicycles were like that.

So the Brommie used to get me upset because it seemed like it always needed some kind of repair.

And because the bikes are quiet esoteric, their repairs were costly and time consuming.

What’s more, lots of bike stores won’t repair them, or the specialist stores refuse to look at the bikes if they have been worked on by an unauthorized outlet.

But, I was determined to enjoy my Brompton, so I rode it and rode it and rode it.

After a few months, I was absolutely smitten with cycling as the bike had taught me how much I could see, how differently I got to see things and what a wonderful effect that cycling had on my life overall.

This led indirectly to racing, and I got into racing Brompton bicycles.

That led me to learning about the Brompton community.

Cyclists, in my experience, tend to be very decent people.

Brommie riders are no exception.

But Brompton riders tend to have a bond closer than other cycling groups in my experience.

Perhaps that comes from events like Brompton in Palace.

A friend started this group, taking advantage of the roads around the Imperial Palace being shut off to vehicle traffic on Sundays, allowing the bikes to potter around the center of the capital.

Although the practice of allowing dedicated bicycle and foot travel ended, the Brompton in Palace gathering didn’t.

Instead, it gathered participants at the Tachikawa Cultre Factory, a disused, outer suburban elementary school converted to a community center with a strong focus on cycling.

Brompton riders would gather on the second Saturday morning of every second month of the year and engage in different events, such as repairs, discussions or simply just informal chatter.

My mate started Brompton in Palace a dozen years ago.

But she has now secured another job and is moving far away.

It initially spelled the end of the Brompton bi-monthly gatherings.

But another mate put her hand up and the community will continue.

The name will change, but the spirit will live on.

Saturday was the final gathering of in the community’s original form.

And Brompton lovers flocked to take part.

We created an amazing artistic display with our bikes.

Keen riders braved the bitter cold, sleet and snow to go pottering in the afternoon.

Chickens like me returned home to the warmth.

But I offer my deepest thanks to my mates, for starting and maintaining this community, and for ensuring that it will continue.

We all seem to be linked by a baffling Brompton bond.