DAY IN THE LIFE

Avid cyclist who swapped a career in teaching for his fantasy job – selling classic bicycles

Classic bicycle pedlar Brian Reid

I usually start work over breakfast; much of my business comes from the Far East and the US so a lot of enquiries land in my inbox overnight. Then it’s off to the shop, where I generally get an hour to myself to renovate bikes before the customers come in. That’s if I’m not driving round the country collecting new – well, old – stock, of course.

The first bike I sold was a Bates, from brothers Horace and Eddie who set up in East London in the late 1920s. It was the Donington Historic Revival and it was my 50th birthday, so it seemed really symbolic. I’d been a teacher for 25 years, then in early 2015 I thought ‘Sod it, let’s try the fantasy business.’ By the summer things had really taken off so I opened a shop in Banbury called Golden Age Cycles.

I mainly sell British steel bicycles from the 1950s to the 1990s, although some Italians are creeping in, and even some early carbonfibre blobs. I’ve got two customers currently fighting over a carbon Lotus 110, the roadgoing version of Chris Boardman’s 1992 Olympic track bike that was latterly banned by the sport’s governing body for giving an unfair aerodynamic advantage. It’s just the frame and it will sell for £8500.

A few years ago much of what I sell now was thought only fit for landfill, but in the last few years the market has boomed. A lot of that is because the modern carbon bikes make the old steel ones look different and intriguing. I’ve also rented a space at Bicester Heritage because it strikes me that people who like old cars might like classic pushbikes.

My customers want the bike they had when they were a lad, the bike their dad had, or, more likely, the bike their mate had but they could never afford. I’ve got a waiting list of three dozen, but whether I’ll ever find those bikes is another matter.

In the early days I trawled eBay, Gumtree and bike jumbles, but now people come to me. A chap contacted me out of the blue yesterday and said he had 44 bikes, so I’m going to see him but I have no idea what they’ll be. The biggest haul was two dozen from North London, which included four Hetchins, the Rolls-Royce of British bikes. But then another time a chap passed away and someone was clearing out his house and asked if I wanted this lot of 30 bikes and I thought ‘This is my fortune made!’ I bought one-and-a-half; the rest were junk. It’s a lucky dip, but it’s exciting. I’m like an addict, not searching for any bike in particular, just for the next great one.

I get a lot of people who shuffle into the shop and just want to talk about bicycles, which is one of the loveliest things about this business. I do restorations and repairs, but I’m probably the only shop where the owner spends more money in it than the customers do. People are always coming in here with bikes to sell and this is the kind of business where you should never say no; after all, they’re not making these things anymore.

I think I always give a fair price for them. I bought a curly Hetchins recently – so called because of its bendy rear stays – from a chap who bought it from the tip for a pound. I paid £350 and have since restored it and now it will be up for sale at £1000.

My parents didn’t drive so it was walk, bus or bike. My dad preferred the bike and had this 1959 Condor with glorious lugwork, built by a chap called Bill Hurlow, evidently one of the best framebuilders there’s ever been. I guess it’s where my love for British steel came from.

My father gave the bike to my brother but then it got stolen. Luckily a local shop mechanic smelled a rat when a customer came in asking about the price of a Condor he had – like a Bentley, if you have one of these, you know how much it’s worth – so he reported him. A bobby went round to the guy’s house and there was my dad’s bike. My brother has since given the bike to his son, which is wonderful.

These bikes are older than I am and they’re going to carry on for longer than I am. That’s one of the best things about steel bikes: look after them and they’ll go on forever.

‘I’m like an addict, not searching for any bike In particular, just for the next great one’