Retiring at 74 – ‘But it’s a bit of a jolt’

Press, 26 August 1978, Page 14

Retiring at 74 - ‘But it’s a bit of a jolt’

By

GERARD HALCROW

If you have owned a bicycle in Rangiora during the last 51 years, the chances are that it has passed through Mr Owen Alford’s workshop. This month, at the age of 74, Mr Alford has reluctantly retired. He has sold his business, which has run under the name of Ruby Cycles for more ’han half a century, to Mr Brian Sharp. "It'll be a bit of a jolt giving up the business, but I'm well past the retiring age and I suppose 1 had better give up sometime." Mr Alford said. During the time he has been in business his shop has become something of an institution in the town. "Someone once sa;d to me: 'I suppose you've fixed bikes which belonged to some people's grandfathers.' ‘Gawd love a duck,’ I said, Tve fixed their great-grandfathers’ bikes too’,” the sprightly septuagenarian said with a smile. Yet in spite of his long connection with bicycles, Mr Alford says he prefers to walk. And when he says w’alk, he means more than just the occasional trip around the block. He calculates he walked about 1600 km last year. “I guess I walk about 25 miles a week and I’ve been doing this for the last eight years. On a Sunday, if it’s fine I'll walk seven miles.” And he does not believe in lingering when he's on one of his walks. Even at

74 he can set a cracking pace of 8 km/h. “I can’t remember the last time I rode a bike. Besides,” he quipped, “I can’t afford one, they’re too dear.” But if bike prices are high now, they went from the sublime to the ridiculous during the depression of the 19305, according to Mr Alford. ‘Tough? Gawd love a duck, times were tough. The price of a new bike dropped right down. A gent s bike sold for $4 9s 6d. Before the depression it sold for $7. "There was a prcie war on between the big city firms. In those days a bike was a pretty important piece of equipment. Every family' had a bike.’ not so many had cars. "But we managed to hang on to the business and my customers stuck to me and I’m grateful to them,” After pulling out of the depression Mr Alford’s business took another plunge. War broke out. When he was called up Mr Alford had no choice but to close. He had bought the business from Mr Charlie Betts for $lB7 in 1927. By 1939 the business was worth a lot more, but ivould it survive the war? ’ “The A/my came along and commandeered all my stock. You couldn’t get spares easily. It was a case of patch, patch, and patch the patches. I’d

repair a tyre at a bob a throw; today we would throw them away.” Owen Alford went into the Army in 1940 and it looked as if his business would have to stay shut until he was discharged. Then his brother-in-law stepped in. ‘‘He said he would take it on. That was good enough for me and Ruby Cycles was back in business.” It was while he was in the Army that Mr Alford developed a liking for walking. “We were stuck out in New Brighton with nothing to do. So every night me and my cobber would

walk into Christchurch, have a look around, and walk back to camp.” Back in business after the war, Mr Alford found the work meant more than fixing flat tyres and selling push-bikes. In his time he has built many “specials.” He has made his own push-bikes, exer-cycles, lawn mowers, and a contraption he calls a “selfpropelling chair.” “There was this butcher, an invalid, who wanted this chair built so he could get around to his shop. But it was going to cost him $l6O to get one brought out from England. “So he called me round and asked me to build him

one. Well, me and the apprentice got on the job and built it. I charged him $3B for it and he never used it.” The chair had a tilting back-rest and was propelled and steered by two handles which the occupant pulled backwards and forwards. “He (the butcher) loaned it to a hound master who had broken his leg. When he was finished with it, the butcher gave it away to a hospital in Christchurch,” Mr Alford said. When Mr Alford first started out in the bicycle trade he was a keen cyclist. He was working for Mr Henry Bullock then. In those days Rangiora boasted two bicycle shops. One was owned by Mr Betts and the other by Mr Bullock. The shops were almost opposite each other. Mr Alford’s parents lived at Oxford; his father was a watchmaker. When Owen began working in Rangiora he boarded in

the town. To occupy his spare time he competed in cycling races. “Racing bikes were nothing like they are now. They had wooden rims in those days, and, Gawd love a duck, they were dangerous. “I’ve seen the rims split in half during a race. If it happened to be the front one, boy, were you in trouble. One chap had a front rim split on him once. He was going like heck when it happened. He hit the ground head first and ripped off one of his ears.” Mr Alford even competed in the Timaru-to-, Christchurch road race. He

did the trip in five hours. “The roads were all shingle and when we got to the Selwyn River there wasn’t a bridge. We had to put our bikes on our backs and wade across.” Besides his long business experience, Mr Alford has had extensive experience in local body work. He was a member of the Rangiora Borough Council for 16 years and has been a member of the North Canterbury Electric Power Board since 1972. During his time on the council Mr Alford proved to be a valuable negotiator. He was instrumental in phasing out the council’s gas and electrical departments. Both departments had become financial millstones. “We were having trouble with the gas works. Even with a Government subsidy we couldn’t make it pay. We had no sooner won our battle to close it when the electricity department began giving us problems. "There were new subdivisions popping up all over the place. It got to be too much. We were glad to sell the department to the power board and I think the board was glad to have it.” Mr Alford was chairman of the council’s gas and electricity committee when the council shed both departments. As a businessman and apprentice who has done his time, Owen Alford has one piece of advice for today’s apprentices. “Keep your mouth shut and ears open,” he says bluntly. “That’s what an engineer advised my son, Peter, to do when he started work with the Electricity Department. And do you know, that was the best bit of advice I’ve ever heard anyone give a young fella who's just starting out.”