Meet the Fishers
Nestled at the edge of the High Peak, an hour’s bike ride from Manchester, is a small town called New Mills. Half way up (down?) a steep hill above the town live The Fishers; an ordinary family in many ways. That is, if you think the Athertons are normal, for the three Fisher kids are a close-kit, super-energised, pint-sized gene pool of cycling legendary in the making. They have just completed their first cyclocross racing season, and grit.cx was granted exclusive access (in exchange for milk and chocolate biscuits).
Arthur (7), Robyn (5) and Stan Fisher (10 minutes the younger) raced the North West league and the Rapha Supercross last winter. All of them compete in the same category; the under 8s. They let me in to their top secret training plans for the summer, hoping to return next winter to build on the clutch of medals the trio have already taken home from their podium finishes. “We ride our bikes a lot”, Robyn told me. “All the time, actually, and I’ve got seven gears”, chipped in her older brother. “And I can ride with no hands for two minutes”, Arthur added. “Actually I can do lots of tricks, too”, Robyn chirps: “I can ride with my skirt tucked in my knickers”. She laughs heartily. Stan, who has nailed the tricky ridge at McMoab on his 20 inch Islabike, climbs up onto the table to emphasise his interruption. “Arthur can stand on the saddle for ages!” he screeches at me. Arthur rolls his eyes with big brother pride.
The Fishers: Stan, Robyn and Arthur
Unsurprisingly, the Fishers are all cyclists. Mountain bikes, road bikes, cyclocross bikes and balance bikes are racked in varying sizes in their workshop. At a few months old, eldest sibling Arthur was breastfed at least once on the way up Alp D’Huez as mum Sue got her fix the day before husband Steve rode the Marmot sportive. At five months, Arthur was entered as third team member in a relay-style adventure race across the Lake District; passed like a gurgling baton between parents as they tackled sea kayaking, fell running and mountain biking in the wildest parts of the North. Before their third birthdays, all three children were pedalling merrily up and down the steep lane where they live; testing each other to skid faster, hop further and defy gravity, mud, rocks and rules. Soon, Sue and Steve began posting rapid-fire Strava feeds which included the phrase ‘with the kids’. Now, cyclocross racing is part of their family’s weekend routine. Everyone gets to blow the cobwebs away, although Steve has to race the ‘whipper snappers’, as he puts it; the only category which has a start time that fits with childcare duties.
On their way back north after a week of riding and camping in their Grandpa’s Devon woods, the trio of ‘crossers describe enthusiastically their plans for next season. “I got three medals this year: Three races I came third. So what I’m really trying to work out”, explains a very serious Arthur, “is who keeps coming second and how I can beat them”. I suggest that it might just be that they are bigger than him, but Arthur is adamant this isn’t an excuse. “I do so much training, I normally can beat the bigger ones. They’re only a year older”. What he means by ‘training’, it turns out, is the daily ride to school, (which after some loud mental maths is calculated to be five days in seven), plus weekend trips to the BMX track at Manchester’s National Cycling Centre or Whaley Bridge bike park. Not so grim up north if you’re a cycling mad family of five.
Stan’s racing mojo comes from elsewhere. “It’s not about the winning”, he tells me. “It’s not about the fists but about the legs and the heart and the dreams”. Stan (the only inhabitant of Planet Stan) is quickly interrupted by his sister. “I’m not as fast as the others, but I like racing because you get to ride really really fast. You’ve got to pedal, pedal, pedal and just keep pedalling. And put the effort in. And I really liked winning my first medal. And I’ve got cupcakes on my top”. They have done well in their first season, but in fact Sue explained the early difficulties she faced explaining to them that this time they don’t have to stop to help the other children if they are slow up a hill or have stopped to walk.
Happy to talk about their ‘cross in great detail, Arthur leads the way in explaining how the races work. “The important thing to remember”, he tells me, “is that we ride around and we have these funny bits just below our ankle and every time we go over a buzzer it counts one lap. There’s a thing that shows how many laps we do…” And how do you know when to stop, I asked Stan. “There’s a quite small, quite massive bell that goes ‘wangawangawangawang’”. I see. “Actually it’s a flag”, says Robyn. And are they happy to be finishing, I wonder? “No, I want to keep going”, offers Robyn initially. But Arthur chips in: “I’m glad to be finishing ‘cos I have to push on quite hard, and my throat is really sore when I finish”. After some thought, Robyn concurs. “Actually I do have to put the effort in to it”, she admits. Stan is quiet throughout this exchange, busy contemplating the dramatic catalogue of crashes he goes on to gleefully describe to me, and perhaps just a little distracted by the chocolate biscuits.
It’s clear that the North West is well set up for kids’ cycling generally and for ‘cross racing specifically. The Rapha Supercross at Halifax had a thronging children’s entry, with excited parents lining the starter gate shouting encouragement and even flowing onto the course to help out the littlest ones. The league races are a little more sedate, and often in thick mud and cold winter weather (it’s the North, remember), but the atmosphere is supportive and inclusive; less pushy parents, more giggles, rosy cheeks and hot chocolate. Tiny ones and team-kitted bigger ones happily rub shoulders and share their love of riding bikes. And they win Haribo – perfect!
Seeing that attention was drifting and that there were paddling pools and trampolines luring them outdoors into the sunshine, I finished up by asking the Fishers whether they like ‘just riding’ or racing the best. “I like racing because there are fewer people getting in your way”, philosopher Stan answered. “At racing you get medals and I have three”, Arthur reminds me. Robyn shrugs her shoulders. “They’re just the same. You’re just riding your bike”. There are no nerves here; no anxiety or pushing or pressure. The kids are as relaxed and happy about racing as they are about climbing trees or building dens. They live in the shadow of Kinder Scout, and on sunny days the High Peak beckons the family into the hills to wild swim, go bouldering, walking, camping or just muck about. Cyclocross is an accessible family activity and one that is growing in popularity with outdoorsy parents in their area. The Fisher children rub shoulders with neighbours Rob Hayles and Nick Craig, and ride the same trails as Sally Bigham when she pops home from her tours of the world’s mountain bike marathons. They have enthusiastic, energetic parents who clearly want to share the buzz they get from being active and sporty, and it’s clearly catching. Cycling world, watch out, the Fishers are coming to get you!
