I used to love doing a my paper round as a kid. I have never been as fit, or as rich, as I was when I was a teenager delivering papers. I used to mark up the rounds on a Sunday as well as doing two rounds. I loved riding my bike in all weathers, I delivered to a few celebrities houses and always found a few cheeky offroad shortcuts to trim minutes off the round. I still have my Kona Lava Dome which I paid for in cash with my earnings.

Fast forward to now and my daughters have now taken on a round which they take in turns to do. They haven’t once asked me to help but I have found myself getting up early to go and ride it with them. Its dark, cold and early but I still love doing it.

I wish I could earn a proper living by just being a paperboy.

There’s a lad down the road that gets driven round by his dad when the weather’s bad! I’m not sure if I’m more disappointed in the child (14 / 15) or the dad.

I loved being a paperboy. My kids can’t believe I delivered morning and evening papers six days a week, plus the two bags on a Sunday round!

I was happy as Larry strutting about with my Walkman on. Simpler times 😊

I covered for a mate on his round once. Never again, it was crap; loads of papers, bugger all money.

I did a milk-round on Saturday mornings instead, that was great.

Loved my paper round, delivered to some nice houses so got great xmas tips, used the cash to get my raleigh dyna-tech mtb, loved that bike.

My round was the longest road in the village, with the houses spread out and on a hill.

Not very lucrative, but I like to think it got me started building these mighty oaks.

*slaps thighs heartily*

I wish I could earn a proper living by just being a paperboy.

I had this conversation with a colleague recently, but a postman instead of a paperboy.

Loved my paper round, delivered to some nice houses so got great xmas tips,

The cooncil hooses gave better tips than the posh hooses.

Similarly, those were great days, then I moved onto a milk round, which was chuffin horrible, 4am to 8am 6 days a week, collecting money on thu, fri evenings and a saturday morning. All for about 30 quid!. 🙂

Hated it. Bag too heavy, round too far, pay crap and the newsagent who made up my papers always got it wrong so I had to go back and get new ones for people all the time

There’s a lad down the road that gets driven round by his dad when the weather’s bad! I’m not sure if I’m more disappointed in the child (14 / 15) or the dad.

My dad did that for my older brother back on the 70s – and not just in bad weather! I did a joint one with a mate (who dropped out after about two weeks as he was Spoilt Kid and didn’t need the money) but I carried on and did it for a few years (and never had my dad drive me either, WTF). It was great at Christmas with the extra tips I used to get.

Used to deliver the weekly free paper – the herald & post. 350 papers each week and would make £20-25 a week, cash in hand in the 90’s.

That was a lot of spending money for when you’re a teenager. Invariably spent it all down the pub from the ages of 16 onwards. Good times

I and mrs_oab both did paper rounds, then other Saturday jobs on so on, from age 13 through University. Our three have all passed on the same paper round for the last 7 years, youngest now does the round and the sort of the papers at a weekend. Like you, we and they enjoyed it.

And like you, they are surprisingly wedged. Youngest has just done the Christmas cards, hoping no.5 is as financially generous as she was last Christmas to him 😉

I enjoyed it, but it also instils a work ethic and determination early on IME to be out in the dark, wet and cold from an early alarm. The shop these days seems to have a high turnover, and like @Pieface says we see a couple driven alarmingly regularly.

It says a lot that the eldest two went on to work at hotel and then CV19 test centre, and continue to do so.

The cooncil hooses gave better tips than the posh hooses.

This is so true.

Worst job I ever had. I had to deliver 314 papers to every house in my area, and I got 2p for each one, in the early 90s. It took two entire evenings from home time to bedtime. I didn’t have time or energy left to do homework which cocked things up quite a lot. It would nearly have paid for one full-price computer game per month, but it so wasn’t worth it.

it also instils a work ethic and determination early on IME

Ooh, these words get me agitated, they really do. Instil a work ethic? IMO and IME you’re either born that way or you’re not. If you’re happy to give your time to the man doing menial work for a pittance, then great, but I’m not, and I never have been. For me it’s horribly oppressive and has a severely negative impact on my mental health.

I wanted a round but wasn’t allowed by my mum in case I got pinched!

I also remember when the sunday papers started punting out magazines, I went from 2 bags to 4, a double run in effect, made you go quickly though just to get some of the weight off your shoulders!.

There’s a lad down the road that gets driven round by his dad when the weather’s bad! I’m not sure if I’m more disappointed in the child (14 / 15) or the dad.

Sounds like a well bonded family, willing to help each other out when needed. Rather than the f off and do your round, suffer for all the hell I care type. And heaven knows there seems to be a lot of that type of parenting going about these days.

I did 5 days a week for ten bob. That seemed like a lot of money in the late 60s. Very hilly round including a farm with nasty sheepdogs.

No it doesn’t.

I loved mine.

Thursday was always the big shift as the North Devon Journal came out that day so I had to make a trip back to the shop to reload the bag.

My Muddy Fox Courier was my trusty steed, and when it was in the bike shop being repaired after enthusiastic weekend off road adventures I often ran round my paper round.

Good times indeed.

Well, that just escalated quickly.

I did the evening round 5 days a week for a year and loved/ hated it largely depending on what the weather was like and what I was missing out on. Used to enjoy the Kitkat from Mr Weekes and the Penguin from another house every couple of days though.

A great life lesson too – one house always had SCAN written next to it on the delivery list. I wondered what it meant but never asked and reliably delivered their paper. One day about 6 months in the shop owner did a count and I had one paper too many. He thought I was pinching a paper but I showed him that the paper count matched the list count.

Turned out that SCAN meant Subscription Cancelled and they’d had a free paper for months 😀

I had a 2 bag Sunday round, way too heavy to cycle with. The newsagent would give me a lift up the hill and hide one of the bags behind a wall to pick up later. Jacked it in to pump petrol because that paid enough to buy a Honda SS50 on the drip. Don’t remember getting much pleasure from either.

had to deliver 314 papers to every house in my area, and I got 2p for each one, in the early 90s.

The free papers were a mugs game. I did it for a couple of months, hard graft with little reward.
Sunday rounds were where the big ££ was.

I used to deliver the local free paper.

At first, I delivered them with a deaf boy who we fostered. He was the son of a Saudi Princess. We used to run the whole round dragging the trolley behind us trying to set record times.

After a while, I realized I could optimise the process and do my bit for the environment by depositing all the papers straight to the recycling bank behind the pub at the end of the road.

Remarkably, I did that for a couple of years without getting caught. That must be a testament to how shit the paper was.

I enjoyed my round – most of the time. On cold, wet winter mornings in the dark, maybe not so much. I had the longest (and best paying) round in the shop, lots of big houses with long drives. It was a prosperous North London suburb with a lot of Jewish residents (you could tell by the mezuzahs on the doorframe), and in general they gave the biggest Christmas box tips. One year in the mid-70s I got well over £100 at Christmas. It kept me pretty fit too – win-win. It was before the days of the Walkman so I had a little transistor radio that just fitted in the chest pocket of my denim jacket – I acquired an encyclopaedic knowledge of mid-70s pop much of which still lingers 45 years later.

I had a paper round when I was about 13. In the week it was easy, a few magazines and lots of Manchester Evening News.

Sunday morning was hellish. The bag quadrupled in weight. It was the advent of the Sunday supplement and all those glossy colour pages weighed some. It was a real PITA as letter boxes weren’t as generously sized back in the 80s. Having been designed for letters…

I remember having to kneel on frosty paths to strip the paper into its four sometimes five component parts and post them individually through those damn letter boxes at the BOTTOM of the door. Were they invented by osteopaths?

I did enjoy watching the seasons change and doing a bit of bird watching early Sunday. My trusty Raleigh Arena propelled me around the estate.

I did a round for a few years – six days a week with about 30 papers. When I started I was paid £1.75 a week which is less than 30 pence per day.

Despite that I have quite fond memories and think it did teach me some valuable life lessons. The ride to the shop was just over a mile and I remember slogging through deep snow to get there.

The Falklands war happened during the time I was doing it and I remember many of the headlines printed at the time.

I had 7 morning paper rounds and also put together all the rounds for the other 30+ lads. The boss of the paper shop would then drop my rounds off so I could do them in a loop rather than always returning to the shop.

Almost 300 papers a day, every day (except Christmas day) in all weathers, starting at 04:00 and finished by 08:00 then went to school.

I think I was making about £150 a week in 1992-5.

Loved mine.
Up at 0600, out the door at 0615, no lights on my chopper.
Home by 0700 most days. Saw some cracking boobies as your under the radar and people are still half asleep
£5.75 A week, but used to net over £100 at chrimbo. I was super reliable and did the same round for 3 years.
My dad helped on a Sunday. He would drive to the finish with 1 bag and i worked up the road towards him.
Then used to cycle to the pub to help bottle up, clean toilets and floors.
L

Optimal paper round for me – an evening round so straight off the school bus and into the shop, 40-45 papers from a larger round that was split in two (so one of the lighter rounds), occasional leaflet supplement and best of all the round started at the letter box of the house next to the shop. Other kids hauling their larger bags across the village had barely started before I was done and on my way home with my stinky newsprint fingers.

Morning and Sunday rounds looked horrid in comparison.

ISTR I got around £5.50 a week c. 1985-1988

My own money for the first time, albeit seven quid Monday to Saturday with a pound knocked off for any mistakes (1991). I had the worst round in the shop, all big fancy houses so lots of supplements and crap tips. Saturday had to be done in two trips due to weight of the bloody bag. I used to be worse off in winter due to constantly replacing the big C batteries in my rubbish Ever-Ready lights. I’ve had worse jobs TBF.

Daffy, pictured yesterday:

My trusty Raleigh Arena propelled me around the estate.

Let’s share our paper round bikes, here’s my Peugeot Equipe:

(that’s someone else’s, but mine was the same model)

I had a paper round in the 80’s, Monday to Saturday for £2.50 a week. I figured I had to go out with my dog before school so I might as well get paid for it! Christmas tips was the bonus time, although with all that cash in my pocket, I was glad I had my dog with me on one of the estates!
Never fancied a milk round, that was for the bad lads! 😁
Edit: Bike was my BMX, originally with heavy magnesium wheels that gave loads of pinch punctures.

If we are on bikes… I started on the ubiquitous Raleigh folder:

Which then became the fast yet puncture prone:

Similarly, those were great days, then I moved onto a milk round, which was chuffin horrible, 4am to 8am 6 days a week, collecting money on thu, fri evenings and a saturday morning. All for about 30 quid!. 🙂

And factor in walking about with a leather satchel of money in the dark in a scheme you weren’t from.

I had a paper round in the early ’80s. I **** hated it, a miserable boss a couple of right miserable bastard customers, and one who insisted on letting her horrible shit of a dog out every time I entered the gate that went for you.

My highlight was getting my Christmas tips and then quitting on Christmas eve

Remarkably, I did that for a couple of years without getting caught. That must be a testament to how shit the paper was.

Once, as I was beginning to crack, I dumped some of the free papers as I was sure no-one read them. Next week one bloke met me at the gate, having been waiting, and he asked me what happened to last week’s paper. I was that shocked I didn’t even have a ready reply.

Hated it. Bag too heavy, round too far, pay crap and the newsagent who made up my papers always got it wrong so I had to go back and get new ones for people all the time

Which one did you have? I took over Paul’s, started at the shop up and down every street on hayston park, then up school road and up quarry road.

One question on paper rounds why is it the bigger the paper the smaller and more awkward the letter box. I swear there was one house that it took 5minutes on a Saturday to separate and feed the sections individually and if it had rained there was no chance they were getting them readable.

I had one of these:

I remember spending a lot of time looking at that catalogue.

Absolutely despised my paper round. Too early, too cold, too long, too heavy, too badly paid… I mean I could go on.

Lasted about a week on the normal papers. But then got a round delivering those crap free papers. They were delivered to my house where they were promptly taken to the bridge down the road and chucked in the river. No one ever complained and that little racket lasted a good while as I remember.