One of Radio’s character quirks is to label things she’s never done as ‘scary’.

I can agree that an awful lot of things that remain untried could be classed as ‘scary’. For example, I’d be apprehensive about doing a tightrope walk over shark-infested water. I’m not sure that Radio’s fears really belong in this category, so, one by one, I’ve tried to encourage her to do ‘scary’ things.

She’s now showered several times (a fear of running water causing her no end of misery when hotels don’t have baths and she has to stay there for a while), rowed a boat, driven a car a little bit, and has now been able to somewhat stymie her instinct to squeal if I raise her so much as an inch off the ground.

Yesterday was another occasion to demonstrate to her that she can do everyday things that she thinks are scary.

We decided to visit Rutland Water on what looked set to be a wonderfully bright day. This is all well and good, but you can have an even better day if you cycle around the place, else you’re limited to very few of the views afforded by its 27-mile perimeter.

Our problem lay in the fact that Radio can’t cycle. It’s actually not her fault: She had three as a child, but never got to the stage of cycling without stabilisers. Her sister underwent a small accident, her mother proclaimed cycling ‘dangerous’, and so the bikes were dispatched to a church ready for the bazaar.

We arrived, realised that we couldn’t hire bikes from our car park, and so moved onto another, though not before one kind soul offered us his day pass. “Save ya three quid, won’ it?”

It was such a warm day that it only seemed right to have a quick drink first, so I tried some pear cider, so vile that even a vagrant would refuse it. We ate lunch and I immediately began cursing my attempt at discipline, having packed the same for myself as for Radio, meaning that I was hungry still as I finished my sandwich. Food gone, it was time to set off.

Against the odds, it wasn’t Radio at all who would have called off the cycling adventure, but me. I looked at the prices and wasn’t impressed at all that hiring a tandem for under two measley hours would set us back £17.

Radio, worth all the credit in the world, wasn’t going to let the price put her off and paid anyway.

Thus began our journey, me at the helm, Radio at the back. Considering that she was terrified, she did really well, in that she didn’t scream at all. In fact, she even pointed out to me that she was tempted to but was holding on.

Things didn’t go according to plan initially, in that the cycle route wasn’t indicated so we ended up heading onto an A-road. It was pretty clear that that wasn’t the way to go since we couldn’t see the lake, so we went back and eventually hit the route.

Our journey was from Whitewell to Normanton, a total of eight miles. Radio didn’t believe that we’d come so far in under an hour, so I had to talk her through the maths. She had to reluctantly acknowledge that the people we’d lapped would’ve done four miles in that hour normally, and I think then it hit her what a good form of transport cycling would be.

I treated us to ice cream. We both selected the same thing, an old-style Feast, my favourite as a child. Mine went down wonderfully well. Radio’s is another thing altogether. It suffices to know that I also inherited half of hers, after she’d given up trying to work out how to consume it without in going all over the place. I doubt she’ll be trying one of those in a hurry, certainly not in any property where I live and will have to clean up

Whilst we were there we reminsced that a year had passed since we took our only soppy photo, and that it might be nice to do another one. It took three takes for me to be able to get my own head in shot, and what came out still needed a massive overhaul with Photoshop to make it anywhere near acceptable, but I think it’s a sweet little picture

We got on the bike and headed back, this time determined to travel at a faster pace. All told, it was a very sweet day, and Radio has now decided she’d like to learn how to cycle for herself, as detailed much more entertainingly on her blog. I don’t think that either of us will be attempting a tightrope walk over shark-infested water anytime soon, but, viewing by the progress she’s making, it could likely be only a matter of time

Tags: Rutland Water

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