Rob Ainsley

on the end of a legend

“The Dawes Galaxy tourer has outlasted five prime ministers and proved rather more trustworthy”

Scimitar Oryx; Candango Mouse; Aru Flying Fox; Dawes Galaxy... going, going, gone. (The first three are extinct/near-extinct mammals, not brand names. Though they do sound respectively like a gravel, folding and triathlon bike.)

But yes. Dawes has discontinued the iconic tourer. No longer viable. It has gone to meet its frame maker in Taiwan. That’s sad. It was a nostalgic exemplar of the English-pattern steel touring bike, the sort you see in chirpy 1950s films: drop bars, comfy upright position, mudguards, rack, panniers. When ‘energy gel’ was the meat paste in sandwiches.

But self-supported long-distance journeying, like nostalgia, isn’t what it was. Bikepackers cycle rackless now as they explore remote, unmanaged places, such as the bottom of their saddlebag as they rummage in vain for their gloves.

And modern, domestic multi-day travel is often super-light. Why cart a tent when there’s a Premier Inn and Airbnb, or a boutique guest house in that former youth hostel? Why carry bags if you’re doing the End-to-End or North Coast 500 in an organised group with support van? Unencumbered, you can do a 100 miles a day, get it over with quickly, return home to watch your helmetcam video, see what it was like and decide if you enjoyed it.

Tastes are changing. I recently contributed to a book on world cycle tours. Its ‘What to take?’ chapter suggested gravel, road or mountain bikes – but not tourers. I was taken aback, but the publishers presumably know their market. Ditto bike retailers, whose websites’ ‘touring’ sections are virtually all road and gravel models.

I’m wary of the gravel bike thing. It makes sense in the Americas, where long-distance gravel roads form a major part of the network. Not Britain: bridleways, farm tracks and towpaths are usually MTB-bumpy, while surfaced non-tarmac such as rail trails and forest roads are too brief to warrant a specific bike. Your hybrid will do fine or a road bike at a pinch. Which would explain the flat tyres.

That said, gravel bikes can make good tourers. Simply add mudguards, rear (and maybe front) rack, convert gearing to ultra-low ratios such as 24/34, raise the stem, switch from tubeless to conventional, maybe swap the frame for steel and away you go. It’s a shame touring bikes aren’t recognised as ideal allpurpose machines. They can haul a dead microwave to the dump, a child’s tagalong to school and a week’s shopping over potholed British streets.

My partner’s utility bike is a Galaxy. My sister-inlaw’s is a Super Galaxy: over 15 years it’s helped her raise three kids. It’s outlasted five prime ministers and proved rather more trustworthy. But it seems the trad tourer’s near-extinct. Dead as a dodo. Or the Toolache Wallaby, Imposter Hutia and Red Gazelle (vanishing mammals again, but sound like cargo, BMX and town bikes).

Or is it? The classic touring bike is even more niche than it was, but it’s still around. There’s still, just, offthe-shelf choices – Genesis, Ridgeback, Surly etc – plus choose-your-spec models from specialist supplier heroes such as Spa and SJS. I can source my all-purpose bike for a while yet. Until I go extinct myself, anyway.

Besides, the Galaxy hasn’t been around forever. It started in 1971, later than I presumed. (Some of my bike tools are older than that.) So it didn’t feature in those 1950s films after all. Thinking about it, some bike packed – saddlebags, bar-mounted luggage – then, too. Perhaps some things just go in, well, cycles. That’s the thing with Dawes: as one closes...

So maybe the Galaxy will return. Rebranded as the Gravelaxy, say, in salmon pink. They could sell it minus rack and mudguards, and call it an adventure bike. And charge more.

RIP Dawes Galaxy. Long live the touring bike.