Len Hill

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Shane Kelly

	Shane Kelly, born in Ararat Victoria in 1972, is also known as the Minute Man, since breaking 1.00.613s to win World Championship in 1995 in the 1000 meter time trial event. After a silver metal in the Barcelona Olympics in 1992, he was in the spotlight for the 1996 Atlanta Olympics as the Gold Medal favourite. He was again the disappointed as his foot slipped off the pedal at the start and recorded the result "did not finish". He has consistently won medals in World Championship events, winning gold in the 1998 Commonwealth Games and bronze in the 2000 Sydney Olympics.
1992	Olympics	Barcelona	Silver
1995	World Championships		Gold
1996	Olympics	Atlanta	DNF
	World Championships	Manchester, UK	Gold
1997	World Championships		Gold
1998	Commonwealth Games	Kuala Lumpur	Gold
	World Championships		Silver
1999	World Championships	Berlin	Silver
2000	Olympics	Sydney	Bronze
Racing History - 1000 metre Time Trial Event

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Information submitted by Tom's nephew, Chris Young.

Tom was a champion Australian cyclist between the late 1920's and 1930. He received the Harnet Glass Cup for winning the 1930 Sydney to Melbourne Road race. He also won a number of time medallions in the Warrnambool to Melbourne Road Race and it is believed that he was a regular competitor at the Preston Velodrome. He rode Malvern Star bicycles as well as other brands.

Any further information on Tom would be appreciated.

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Barry McGinley Jones

In 1950, Barry McGinley-Jones won the Juvenile Championship of Australia held in Melbourne, for which he received a silver cup. It was a 45-mile road race along Plenty Road, Preston. It was organised by the Northcote or Westgarth bike club whose president was Mr Bolwell. There were several out-of-State riders from Sydney, WA and Adelaide.

Donald McKay

"Cycling Round Australia"
From The Australian Cyclist March 22, 1906

Prior to Mr D. McKay leaving Melbourne for Brisbane, to complete his girdling Australia, The Australian Cyclist had a most interesting chat with the intrepid cyclist. Mr M McKay, who is a native of Yass, NSW is 28 years old, and unmarried. He is a finely-proportioned man, over 6 feet high, and weighs at present 12 st 6 lb his usual weight being 13 st 10 lb. McKay is part owner in the Wallendbeen Cattle Station at Wallendbeen, about 240 miles from Sydney, and is a brother of Mr J. McKay, member of the Upper House, Sydney. Don as he is familiarly called by his fellow cyclists is a member of the Sydney Bicycle Club.

McKay was seized with the idea of cycling around Australia for the fun of it’ and out of pure love for adventure. Owing to business engagements in regard to several Queensland mines he is interested in, he was unable to start from Melbourne with the White brothers, but joined them at Brisbane, setting out on July 30 th on what has proved a long, weary trip. Perth was reached on the 3 rd of February, and Melbourne on the 14 th inst. As Arthur Richardson completed his tour of Australia’s outline in eight months, less one day, McKay, who has occupied 7 months 13 days in reaching Melbourne from Brisbane distance of ? miles- must cover the balance of the journey to Brisbane about 1400 miles in 17 days to secure the world’s long distance straightaway record, professional and amateur, at present held by Arthur Richardson. McKay’s best performance on the run is from Port Augusta to Melbourne, 750 miles, in six days. McKay has, in his ride from Perth to Melbourne, beaten the record of F. White, the W.A. overlander.

Throughout the whole journey Mr McKay used a Dux roadster machine, 24 inch frame, about 27 lb weight, and fitted with Dunlop tires, 77 gear, and 7 inch cranks. At times the luggage carried weighed close on 60 lb and notwithstanding the country travelled over, and the continuous rough usage, the machine, with the exception of the loss of some nickel and enamel, is as sound as a bell. It is the best little wheel I ever rode said McKay and although I bumped it over rocks, through great swamps, and crashed into stumps and logs on a thousand occasions it stood up every time, and never needed the slightest repair.

The longest trip ever attempted by McKay previous to the one in hand was done some five years ago when he started from Brisbane on a prospecting expedition to Cootamundra, thence to the border of Queensland, via Broken Hill to Adelaide, Adelaide to Melbourne, and home to Brisbane, a distance of some ? miles. He has never raced on the bicycle, but is an all round athlete, being a good swimmer, boxer, shot, rider, runner, etc. He first learnt to ride a bicycle in 1889, his mount being an old boneshaker, of which he is still the possessor. As an additional hobby, Mr McKay is an ardent photographer, and his albums at Wallendbeen contain photos of almost every part of the civilised world. On the trip round Australia he snapped over 1000 pictures. These he intends to develop, and send home to one of the English journals, along with an account of the ride written up from his diary, which he carefully wrote up each day. His time book, in which are the postmarks and signatures of the postmasters of over seventy-five towns, is also of interest.

 On the tramp, as he termed his ride, McKay carried two water cans, attached to his bicycle, weighing about when full of water, 15 lbs, a revolver, ammunition, a set of tools and parts that were never needed, a camera, a waterproof cloak, diary, time book, and a food bag. Speaking of the kit he informed the A.C. that the water cans were a decided failure, as they did everything but hold water. During the trip he wore out two pairs of cycle pants and four pairs of cycle shoes, all of which had extra heavy soles. When asked how he ever got through it, he replied I know I am old enough to have had more sense than try it. I think I must have been mad my friends let me down lightly and say eccentric. All I know is that main strength and stupidity pulled me through. When I got in a tangle, or was lost, I just went bull-headed whatever way seemed the easiest. Life is too short for such a trip, and I would not do it again for all the gold in the Indies. I tell you what, when I was about six weeks out, if I had had the pluck to chuck it up I would have done so, however, as I never funked before, and I have been in some rough adventures, I forced myself through a journey which I can only describe as a ‘Touch of Pure Hades.’
Blazing sun, bad water, want of food, dangers from crocodiles and blacks, and, oh! those ‘bubonic mosquitos’. Our scribe suggested that he could have rubbed something on his skin to keep off the Free Starters, to which came the reply Rub yourself with something I used to rub myself seven days in the week after I woke up.

When asked about the blacks, McKay began to laugh, and said that, as far as Camoweal, only a few niggers were met with. In the Northern Territory the blacks were a wiry race, the men averaging about 5 ft 7in in height. In the Fitzroy district the aborigines were very fierce, and resented the presence of the overlanders. However, they were frightened at the bicycles, and so long as the cyclist could keep riding, all the blacks in the vicinity would clear out at top speed, yelling Debbil! Debbil!. Even those niggers have respect for his Majesty. If the cyclist had to dismount and walk, the black warriors would advance and curiously watch the machine, ready to clear out again as soon as the rider mounted.

When near a camp, the blacks were a great nuisance, and wanted to make some queer exchanges. In one case, an old buck came along with three young girls, and offered to exchange the whole trio for a plug of tobacco. As I was not out on the Brigham Young racket, I declined to do business on so prodigal a scale, much to the old villain’s disgust. Of course, as soon as he got the baccy the girls would have sprinted. The whole blessed thing would then have only ended in smoke. Owing to my being tattooed from my neck to my heels, I was quite a lion in North West black society. When I would undress to have a swim, if a black camp was near, all its inhabitants would turn out to see
Him Plenty Picture Man. It was a large bit embarrassing, sometimes especially when the lady blacks would squat upon my scanty wardrobe so as to afford them the chance to closely examine my skin pictures, of which I have 150 on my body and limbs. They fairly dazzled me with their modesty my blushes were put down to sun burn. But in the North West territory the little matter of clothing is of no moment. Virtue is easy and attire is light. Air is the only costume worn. They wanted to add a few of their own tattoo marks, but as I was afraid that the wounds would not heal, I declined to have additions
to my collection.

In answer to the question, Mr McKay said that when in Japan and England he spent months with the tattoo artists, and that the pictures on his body and limbs cost over 150 pounds. I am not finished off yet said he. It will take another 100 pounds before Mr MacDonald, of London, is done perfecting the designs. The A.C. had a look at the ‘pictures’ on Mr McKay’s body. Some of the designs were marvellously executed, a Japanese dragon and an eagle being especially fine pieces of artistic work.

When asked why he did not follow the coast line right round the continent, Mr McKay said it would be impossible to do so. In the case of his party, they simply followed Richardson’s route from Perth, and had had such a skinful of overlanding by the time they reached the WA capital, that they were glad to cut
homewards by the shortest route. The longest stage on the journey was in the North-Western territory, consisting of 250 miles of an unpathway of scrub, rock, and swamp, fully three parts of the way having to be walked. This strip is in a disgraceful condition through neglect. Owing to the difficult nature of the country, the want of water in places, and to much in others, and the overpowering heat of the sun.

Thirty miles in the day was considered exceptionally good travelling. In the hilly country in the far-away North, the overlanders amused themselves by bombarding the wild turkeys, which were discovered in hundreds. Once they fired twenty revolver shots at one bird at about forty yards range, with no better result than to cause the turkey to quickly walk away in another direction. We concluded we had better let turkey go for that day at least, was Mac’s quaint way of ending up the stuffing which the turkey took away in lead. Numbers of buffaloes, kangaroo, dingoes, emus, snakes, lizards, parrots, and other miscellaneous stock not usually included in a station inventory, were seen. At one place the party came across a vast plain infested with millions of rats, the whole ground being undermined to such an extent, that they sank in places up to their knees. This particular rat-holed territory is mentioned in the adventures of De Rouge Mont, and is therefore warranted O.K. No sign of the bubonic was unearthed. The party camped one night at rodentia suburb, and in the moonlight saw the whole surface of the ground with the vermin. In the daytime the rats were not to be seen. What they lived on was a mystery. Perhaps this bit of country is the breeding ground for Australia’s pest. Federation boards of health should tackle this ratty track.

At another stage of the journey, McKay became so skin-sore with mosquito and ant bites, that he had to hang up his nether garments, and for two days rode and walked with a piece of mosquito net wrapped round his loins, for all the world like a braw Hielander. He was the first member of the human race to introduce the new rage of shadow’ art in the north.

Regarding the adventures in the trip, McKay said in that respect the journey was a failure. The only adventure was a brush with the blacks. On the route the party experienced some terrible privations for want of water and food.
The worst trial was at Monmoona, when he and Alick White were prostrated beside a stagnant hole, the water in which they could smell from the bank. For two days and a half they lay there, without tasting solid food, waiting for
relief from Powell’s Creek. Whilst there McKay felt so bad that he informed his mates that if he had the pluck he would shoot himself. His starving comrades looked so gratefully towards him at such a welcome suggestion that he refrained from asking them to do the business, for fear that they might carry out the proposal. The costly pictures would then have vanished, and the tattoo been broken up. He is glad now he saved his art gallery from fire and water.
At Widgemnooltha, on the 13 th of February, McKay and Alex White were misdirected, and losing their way, were 48 hours without any food, except the flesh of an iguana, and a darn small one at that said Mac. I was cook, and I can
tell you I had to actually measure off so much for each bit to make it last out. He was a bit ‘gummy’, anyhow. It is said that iguana, when a man is hungry, resembles the best flavour of residential stew. The only trouble is that one iguana between two gives no opportunity for making a hash next day. What about the adventure with the blacks? asked the A.C. It came about in this way, was the reply. We were in a deep ravine, called the Jasper Gorge, and had just
sat down at our ‘table de cold.’ Suddenly a spear came whizzing over our heads, and we at once opened fire on the dusky gents. We took pot shots wherever we saw a head appear above the boulders. For a while things looked rather queer, but the revolvers had a good effect, and the blacks decamped. As soon as we could we did ditto. About five miles along our route we stopped to pump up a tire, but had hardly got to work before another shower of prepared wood was thrown at us. I tell you, we all turned ‘white’, but we didn’t funk it. I fired several rounds at the blacks, who, after a few vain attempts to spear us as we mounted, gave up the idea of puncturing us with their poison-tipped twelve feet javelins.

What advice would you give to the ‘tourist’ (?) who might like to circle Australia? we asked, I would counsel him, on The Bible if he wanted it, that the trip is not worth the candle. The privations endured are worse than the trip from Earth to the Hellespont. The first thing to contend with is ordinary sickness; next malarial fever or dysentery; last, but not least, your bicycle smashing up, plus the awful perishes for want of food and water.
Mosquitoes, ants, flies, heat, dirt, and other ‘entrees’ are included without charge. These tell upon you, and I can assure you that, although I was never ill in my life, this trip has told upon my constitution. I am weaker in every way.
My side aches, and my limbs are weary from the continuous riding and plugging over the weary, monotonous wastes of scrub, rock, and swamp. There is, with one exception, nothing really worth seeing. The exception being near the Katherine, at a place called the ‘Jump Up’, a hill which rises from the tableland. The view is magnificent. No; there are plenty of other places where the cyclist can enjoy life, without regretting every day that he was ever born to be such a fool as to tempt his Creator.

As to his future movements Mr McKay was undecided. First and foremost he is determined to secure the world’s amateur long-distance record, and will, if necessary, retrace his steps, or rather wheel marks, back to Perth after he
reaches Brisbane. Next year he proposes visiting Paris and having a go with the motor-cars.

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Reggie McNamara - the 'Iron Man'

Compiled from material supplied by his family.        

(The Cycle History Resource Centre in Canberra has an extensive collection supplied by Reggie's family)

From an advertisement

Truly named "Iron Man" McNamara has had a remarkable career in the six-day bike race game. For twenty years or more he was among the top-flight six-day stars. He has ridden more races and won more races than any other American rider. Reggie retired from the game two years ago at the age of 50. McNamara knows what a bicycle should be and he strongly recommends the Schwinn Lightweights.

"Iron Man" McNamara's Year of Misfortune in Bicycle Contests (an excerpt from an USA newspaper)

To undergo a serious operation on the fourth day of a six-day race and then finish the contest and run third, less than a wheel's length behind the winner, is going some. But that is what Reggie McNamara did and he did it against the advice of doctors, his family and the rider sho was his mate in the race. So often has this fellow pulled through tight places solely on his nerve he has been dubbed the "Iron Man" of cycling.

It was in the Melbourne, Australia, six day race two years ago that McNamara jumped off his wheel, had an incision several inches long made in his side and then resumed the race after more than a dozen stitches were taken to bring the gap together. An abscess the size of a tennis ball was removed, and, although the rider lost considerable blood, he started a sprint immediately upon going on the track to relieve his partner, who was little Jackie Clark, one of the greatest of all six-day riders. No anesthetic was used in the operation which shows the iron nerve possessed by the cyclist. During the painful operation the "Iron Man" never winced, ignoring his own troubles, he enquired continually about Clark, who was in poor condition and riding none too well.

There is probably no athlete who suffered the misfortunes which have befallen McNamara in the four years he has been a racing cyclist. Shortly after his arrival in this country he dashed into the judges stand at the Newark Velodrome when sprinting at top speed, and received injuries which everyone - except McNamara - believed would end his career as an athlete. The muscles in his thigh bulged like crimson balloons through an s-shaped gash which was thirteen inches in length. While he awaited the arrival of an ambulance McNamara very coolly pressed the released muscles in place and remarked, "It was a bloomin' bad fall." At the City Hospital doctors said McNamara would probably recover, but his racing days were over, but a month later he left the hospital with the star nurse of the institution  - a dashing brunette - and led her to the nearest parsonage. A week later he won a two-mile handicap from scratch. It was one of the most spectacular finishes ever witnessed in Newark, the Iron one catching the field in the last lap and riding around the thirty-four handicap men as though they were novices.

The "Iron Man" spent so much time in hospitals it was not surprising when he married a nurse, the young lady who cared or him after the bad fall in Newark. He was married after the Boston race of last year and immediately after the New York race he went to Europe to.........(bit of a gap here).......was very successful, winning thirty-three out of forty-one races in which he started. After defeating Marcel Berthet, the un-paced champion of France, in a pursuit match, McNamara could get no more matches in Paris, although he was a great drawing card there and the promoters wanted him for every meet. None of the riders wanted any of his game so he had to go to Belgium, Denmark, Holland and Germany for engagements. After his forced retirement from France, McNamara was defeated by only two riders: Thorwald Ellegaard, of Denmark, six times champion of the world, and Leon Hourlier, the sprint champion of France.

McNamara had considerable trouble in leaving Europe. He was in Brussels when war broke out and his season's winnings, which amounted to several thousand dollars, were deposited in a Brussels bank and he could not draw this money out. He had barely enough money in his pockets to reach Paris where his wife, who had come to meet him, arrived with Reggie 2nd on the very day that Germany declared war on France. He also had funds in a Paris bank which enabled him to return to America.

In the second race he competed in after reaching America McNamara fell and broke a collarbone and this laid him up again fro three weeks. In his first race following this accident he defeated Oscar Egg, of Switzerland, the tandem-paced champion and established new world's figures from four to fifteen miles. He chopped almost a half a minute from the fifteen mile mark.

The Italian, Francesco Verri, who teamed with McNamara in the Buffalo six-day race at the Broadway Auditorium says that Reggie is the most wonderful rider in the world. In Verri's opinion there is no rider who can approach the "Iron Man" in respect to endurance and he is undoubtedly correct. McNamara's strong face plainly shows the hardships he has endured and the hard races he has ridden.

"I was a man who couldn't hold his liquor" he wrote in his life story. "I lost my home, my wife and family and my livelihood through drink. It is a miracle I am alive today after the lashings I gave the bottle." In 1935 his wife had McNamara gaoled for failing to pay maintenance for herself and their two daughters. He also served on vagrancy charges. He attended Alcoholics Anonymous on his release from prison and in time, the champion beat his liquor problems. After McNamara's life story was published he was reconciled with his wife and returned to cycling as a referee. He died in America in 1971. 

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A Tribute to Russell Mockridge

written by Trevor Wykes

A sometimes-awarded medal, the occasional one day road race in Victoria, and a street in the Canberra suburb of Holt are the permanent reminders to the Australian public of Russell Mockridge. The promise of a new world standard velodrome for Melbourne, provides the opportunity to raise a permanent memorial to this great Australian cyclist.

In post-war Australia, one Australian cyclist stands out as having kick started our international success - the late Russell Mockridge. Others have come along and repeated the habit of strong performances on the track who go on to become world and Olympic champions but few have been more brilliant and it is doubtful that any are held in higher regard than Mockridge. Last year (1998), the 40th anniversary of his death passed without remembrance of this outstanding athlete and deeply moral man. Instead, international cycling has been plagued by drug scandals and elements of Australian cycling infected with personality politics. Against this darker side of the present it is perhaps, worthwhile to reflect upon the life of a man that Sir Hubert Opperman described as “the most versatile cyclist Australia had produced ... no other cyclist in his experience had been gifted with such a level of overall cycling talent”.

Born in Melbourne in 1928, Russell Mockridge did not fit the standard background of Australian cyclists; a sport at the time which was considered more of a working class religion than anything else. He was educated at the elite Geelong College, and on leaving school was in turn, a cadet journalist, a university student, and a candidate for the Anglican ministry, and abandoned each for cycling.

The 5 feet 11 1/2 inch, 12 stone 3, chronically near-sighted young man took up cycling with the Geelong Amateur Cycling Club in 1946. His first race, was also his first victory :- a 40 km, “out and back” club handicap, where he was given a second scratch mark. Club officials were aghast that the inexperienced young rider on an old bike, with the stems of his glasses held to his temples with white tape, had won. He would have also recorded fastest time, but no official was there to record it (they were still following the other riders)! It was in this race Mockridge made a remark which probably was the beginning of his career as a world class cyclist, when he said to those riding along with him, whether they would object if he went ahead on his own!

Within three weeks he was riding as a scratch marker and the wins started to accumulate. In an age when class division was still evident, Russell’s background was to earn him the early nickname of “Little Lord Fauntleroy”, and would become evident later in his career when he was pitted against working class heroes such as the world track title holder, Sid Patterson.

In the space of a few months, Mockridge had become a Victorian cycling sensation, riding his way to a string of victories including, the 109 km Melbourne to Castlemaine race against the State’s best riders. As an outstanding new talent, he was then selected in the Victorian team for the 200 km National road championship in Sydney’s Centennial Park. Having won his first Australian amateur road title in Sydney, he refused to come to the microphone to be honoured over a national radio network. He said he could not take the limelight, for he could not have won the title without the assistance of his brother Victorians. His title win, and sensational sprint finish ensured his selection as a member of the Australian team to the 1948 Olympic Games in London. Two punctures ruined his chances in the Olympic road race and he was eliminated in the quarter finals of the 4000 metres team pursuit (with Jack Hoobin, Sid Patterson and Jim Nestor) on the track.

The misfortunes of London turned to victories at the 1950 Auckland Empire Games where he took Gold in both the 1000 metre sprint and the 1000 metre time trial, and a Silver in the 4000 metre individual pursuit. His time of 1 minute 13.4 seconds in the time trial was faster than that of the Frenchman Jacques Dupont who had taken Gold at the London Olympics.

A short-lived retirement followed (he had announced that he was to give the bike away to become a clergyman “I feel there is a lot more to this life than riding a bicycle”, he had explained ), and within twelve months he had made his way through to the World Sprint Championship, only to go down to Italy’s Enzo Sacchi. Having collected five titles at the 1952 Australian Championships, Mockridge went on that year to set Europe alight.

In Paris he was again to meet Sacchi, his rival from the World Amateur Sprint Championships in Milan. He defeated the Italian three times. On Saturday, July 6, he won the Paris Amateur Grand Prix and the next day won the Open Grand Prix (beating the world professional champion, Reg Harris), becoming the first rider to win both the amateur and professional divisions of the Paris Sprints. His success so humiliated the professionals that the rules of the race were changed, barring amateurs for many years to come.

Against this backdrop of success, Russell was still unsure of his selection for the Australian Cycling Squad for the Helsinki Olympics. Now nicknamed after the crack express train of the same name, the “Geelong Flyer”, had refused to sign the Australian Olympic Federation’s fidelity bond, which demanded he remain amateur for at least two years after the Games.

The AOF appeared intent on excluding him from the team. A public outcry ensued and another great cyclist (and local Geelong MHR), Hubert Opperman (“Oppy”) was to plead his case without result, in the Federal Parliament. Fortunately, the Mayor of Geelong, Bevan Purnell worked out a compromise between Russell and the AOF, with the time of the bond being reduced to one year.

After a late arrival in Helsinki, and equipped with a tandem that he and his partner Lionel Cox had to assemble themselves, Russell was to add two Gold Medals to the Australian tally in one afternoon! The tandem victory defied all odds - neither Mockridge or Cox had ridden together before. Indeed, Lionel Cox had never ridden a tandem before Helsinki. After coming close to losing the quarter final, when Russell slowed down having mistaken a line across the velodrome for the finish, the pair went on in the final to beat the pre-race favourites, South Africans Ray Robinson and Tom Shardelow. With one Gold Medal each in the musette, Mockridge and Cox then “swapped” events. Lionel Cox disliked the time-trial  and Russell (who was entered for the 1000 metre sprint) swapped events with him. Russell took the Gold medal and in the process set an Olympic record time of 1 minute 11.1 seconds (1.6 seconds faster than the Italian Silver Medallist, Marino Morettini).

One year and one day after the expiry of his AOF fidelity bond, Russell turned professional and set his sights on the European pro circuit. Taking a wrong turn 400 metres from the finish of the 240 km Grand Prix de Monaco resulted in him finishing 7th. However, he soon went on to win the Tour de Vaucluse. Having teamed up with veteran Australian rider Alf Strom, he began to collect prize money with places in six-day track events. In 1955, the Paris Six Day was run for the first time as a three man team event. An Australian team comprising Roger Arnold, Sid Patterson and Russell Mockridge easily defeated the French favourites at the Velodrome d’Hiver. Two days before the start of the 1955 Tour de France, Russell crashed while training, injuring his knee and carving a 15 cm gash across his forehead. Two days later, in pain, he lined up at the start of the 3,830 km race. Three weeks later, he was one of only 60 out of 150 entrants to finish in Paris.

The return to Australia was to see him dominate the professional cycling scene for the next three years. In 1956, he won the notoriously tough 260 km Melbourne to Warrnambool road race in the record time of 5 hours 47 minutes, 5 seconds. The time stood as a record for nearly 25 years. In 1957 he finished the “Warrny” in the fastest time and won the Sun Tour and the Tour of Tasmania. A further match race with the Italian world title holder, Enzo Sacchi took place at the Olympic velodrome in Melbourne during the 1957-58 track season. The judges gave Russell a narrow winning verdict. With the crowd still acclaiming, Russell dismounted, and, rushing over to the judges implored them to reverse the decision for, in his opinion, Sacchi had won by a bare inch. Sacchi left Australia under the firm conviction that Mockridge was the finest sportsman he had ever raced against in any part of the world. 1958 saw Russell win his third consecutive Australian 125 mile professional championship and the national 1000 metre pursuit and 5 mile titles.

The 225 km Tour of Gippsland started in Melbourne on the 13th of September 1958. Approximately 2. 1 miles from the start, at the Dandenong Rd / Clayton Rd intersection, a bus driver drove out into the on-coming scratch bunch. Aged 30, Russell Mockridge a man described as “Australia’s greatest all-round cyclist for all time”, was dead. Russell Mockridge’s posthumous autobiography, “My World on Wheels” (completed by John Burrows), was printed in 1960. To those who own or aspire to own a copy, it is a much prized book - for example I know that my brother Peter, covets his copy. Over the years, it must be impossible to ascertain how many aspiring riders have been influenced by this book - in particular, the quote “Before you can learn to win a race you have to learn to finish it”. On cold Canberra winter mornings, I sometimes think of that quote when I contemplate catching the bus to work - the bike always leaves the garage! At the very least, and if only to preserve the Mockridge memory and to make him known to a new generation of Australian cyclists, the book deserves a reprint.

In the years since his death, how many new junior champions have been praised as offering “the prospect of a new Mockridge”? I have lost count of the number of times I have heard variations on this theme. The Mockridge legend remains powerful in the Australian cycling persona: - in places such as Geelong, young riders out training in the Barabool Hills or out the back of the You Yangs, will proudly tell you, “this, is where Russell Mockridge used to train”. Others will talk with similar pride of how they cherish the memory of having raced against him. Even so, Russ deserves more. The commercial imperatives of modern sport may work against it, but in the absence of a fitting permanent memorial, the new Melbourne velodrome promised by the Victorian Government should be named after this inspirational cyclist and modest man. It remains to be seen how committed cycling officialdom and government is to achieving this simple task.

Russell Mockridge, winning a race in Coventry, UK, on 3rd June 1952

Photo sent in by Jon McKellow , whose Dad , Don McKellow is the rider immediately to the right of Russell in the photo. Don McKellow also competed in the 1000m time trial in the 1952 Helsinki Olympics, which Russell won. Don came in at 5th place.

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"Snowy" Munro

Compiled by David Halford

The early chapters of Australian cycle racing history tell of the adventures and exploits of some remarkable riders - few of whom have equalled the commitment and foresight shown by one of Coburg's life-long members, Iddo "Snowy" Munro.

Of his long list of successes between 1906 and 1909, none stand out quite like his great ride in the 'Warrnambool', when he put up a then world record for 165 miles (264km) and became the 1909 Australasian Road Champion. Thousands of spectators had lined Flemington Road in Melbourne to see how many of the record 548 entries would make it to the finish. First home was W. Knaggs with the 21 year old Munro riding his 88 inch fixed gear (52x16) Coburg-built 'Thistle', fastest time in 7hr.12min.51sec. After the finish of the race Sir Albert Spicer greeted Munro with the following words, 'You have beaten a world record. You have learned to keep your body in subjection. You have shown pluck, nerve and endurance. I hope that those good qualities, which you have cultivated so early will benefit you in life, and that yours will be a prosperous life.'

It was "Snowy's" desire to further the status of Australian cycling overseas that led to the formation of Australia's first team for the Tour de France in 1914. He captained that team, which included Don Kirkham, Charlie Snell, George Bell, and Charlie Piercey - the latter two being club mates at the Coburg Cycling Club. Initially riding as a professionals for the Paris-based Gladiator Cycles & Clement Tyre team, their first major Classic was Milan-San Remo where Munro finished 26th, finishing 10 minutes after the winner Agostini. One week later in April, Munro and the team were hitting the pave in Paris-Roubaix, Piercey breaking a wheel, Kirkham breaking his bike and "Snowy" finishing in 37th place, 7 minutes behind the 1914 winner Crubelandt. Barely two weeks later their Tour de France preparation continued with a start in the two-week Tour of Belgium, followed by Pars-Bruxelles and Paris-Nancy.

 Of the Australians that left looking for Tour glory, only "Snowy" and Don Kirkham gained selection for a Tour team (Phebus-Dunlop). The 1914 event, the last to be held before 1919, consisted of 143 starters riding 5,380km over fifteen stages. Both riders putting up a very respectable showing with their best stage finishes being Perpignan-Marseilles where they finished 4th and 5th respectively. "Snowy" went on to cross the finish line of the last stage into Paris in 10th position. In the Overall Classification Munro finished 20th with Kirkham three places better in 17th - a very creditable and honourable attempt at the big event reported the promoting newspaper L'Auto. Incidentally, the winner was Phillipe Thys, winner also in 1913 and again in 1920.

Even when his riding career over and he was busy founding and running his successful taxi business (Embassy Taxis), "Snowy" always stayed in close contact with his club and the bikes. He was a keen advocate for the official introduction of derailleur gears and one of the movers and shakers behind the introduction of the Herald Sun Tour. "Snowy" dedicated his life to the progress of cycling, and over the years his influence is reflected in the long-term success of cycling in Australia.

ref: The Australian Cyclist Sept. 1949; Wheels to Warrnambool by Bill Wines; The "Snowy Munro Story - Australian Cyclist June-July 1994.

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John Nicholson
by William Skyvington

74th Grand Prix de Paris

Ernie Old
by Annemarie Driver

Ernie Old’s grand-daughter has donated Ernie’s last Malvern Star bicycle to the Museum. It is a 1946 road bike, 2 star, with rack and lights still attached.

Ernie’s life story can be read in his autobiography, called "BY BREAD ALONE". This is the story of a man who is young at 75. It is not only a grand story of amazing cycling exploits, but an absorbing tale of pioneer farming in Victorian’s heat country, a young man’s account of his experiences in the South African War, and a family man’s story of his war experiences in 1914-18 in Egypt, Gallipoli, and France. Incidentally, in the part dealing with Egypt, his description of the Pyramids is the first we have read which gives a perfectly clear picture of these examples of ancient building.

In the field of cycling, in which Ernie Old is best known, the author has performed some of the most remarkable feats of endurance foe a man of his age, or, indeed, of any age. Among these achievements the following will be of interest:

1945 (At 71 years of age) Melbourne -Sydney- Melbourne, 1136 miles, 9 days.

1946 Melbourne- Adelaide- Melbourne, 1138,8 days.

1946 24 hours non-stop, 256 miles.

1947 Melbourne- Brisbane- Sydney, 2500 miles, 23 days.

1948 (At 74 years of age) Melbourne- Adelaide- Darwin- Brisbane- Melbourne, 6000 miles, 56 days.

1948 Melbourne- Perth and return, 4500 miles, 62 days.

1949 Melbourne- Brisbane- Melbourne.

The extraordinary level of physical fitness which Ernie Old maintains is due to temperate living and regular exercise. The portrait on the jacket and the frontispiece to this book show Ernie Old on his 75th birthday, July 13,1949, a fine figure of a man in perfect health at 75, able to cycle an average of 100 miles a day with the greatest ease.

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Sir Hubert Opperman

Oppy our humble champ, dies at 91 from Canberra Times 20/4/96

Hubert Ferdinand Opperman, who started his working life as a rider with the telegraph office, graduated to become a world champion cyclist and federal politician, died on Thursday night doing what he did best—riding. The 91-year~old collapsed and died while pedalling an exercise bike at his family home in Melbourne about 6pm. Born in Rochester, northern Victoria, on May 29,1904, Sir Hubert rivalled cricket legend Sir Donald Bradman and billiards champion Walter Lindrum as the greatest Australian sportsman of all time. The son of a butcher, he became a household name in Australia and across Europe where he tore up the records of local cycling heroes. Tenacious, sharp, fearless and blessed with a stamina that stayed with him until his death, Sir Hubert was a humble man who appreciated people. They returned the compliment with interest.

Former champion cyclist and Coles Myer chief executive Peter Bartels said very few people could match Sir Hubert's record of serving his country. "He came from an era that many of us would like to see return to Australia . . . from a period of time where he asked what he could do, not what people could do for him," he said. Mr Bartels, a former national cycling title holder, said Oppy, as he was affectionately known, was stunned at the support he received in his record breaking ride across the country in 1936. "He once told me he never ceased to be amazed at the number of people who stood by the side of the road in the night and in the rain, and all sorts of things, cheering him on," he said.

During his career, Sir Hubert held the world unpaced track record of 489 miles and the motor-paced record for 24 hours of 860 miles, as well as the 1000 miles record of 28hr. Among his numerous cycling classic wins were the Australian road cycling titles in 1924, 1926, 1927 and 1929. He held more than 100 distance cycling records —and it should be remembered that although most of his achievements have now been bettered, much of his riding was done on rough roads. In the 1928 classic Bol D'or race in France he overcame sabotage to his bike to claim victory and set a world record in the 24-hour tandem event. His reputation had preceded him leading up to the Bol D'or and his two bike chains were fled down before the race.

Both chains snapped in the first hour of the race and, after losing 10 laps, his manager borrowed an old road bike, complete with mudguards and up" turned handlebars. Incredibly, Sir Hubert clawed back lost time. He went to record a stunning victory and set a world record. He was federal Liberal House of Representatives member for Corio, Geelong, from 1949 to 1967, government whip in 1955. shipping and transport minister 1960-63, and immigration minister 196366 and was knighted in 1968 during his time as Australian High Commissioner in Malta (1967-72). Sir Hubert will have a state funeral in Melbourne on Wednesday at St Paul's Cathedral.

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Joseph Pearson

from "The Bicycle and the Bush" by Jim Fitzpatrick

'Genial Joe' was one of the original members of the New South Wales cycling community, reportedly riding the first pennyfarthing in the colony. In 1882 he took up cycling on a regular basis, and competed in road races on solid-tyred high wheelers. He eventually gave away competition and engaged in long tours, during which he kept detailed records of road conditions and distances. During a cycling trip in England in 1893, he was impressed by the quality and availability of road maps and directional signs. Upon his return he lobbied for their development in Australia. He produced the first New South Wales roadmap in 1896, and over the next several years continued with the series, first in conjunction with the N.S.W. Cyclist's Touring Union, and then with H.E.C. Robinson, publishers.

He was long influential in cycling matters in the colony, served on the Executive Board of the Cyclist's Touring Union, numerous bicycle clubs, and later as adviser to the state government when the Tourist Bureau was being formed. During his forty-one years of cycling, he estimated that he rode about 180,000 miles. He was considered a superb hill climber, and could readily manage 100 miles per day on tours-even in hilly country-much to the awe (and consternation) of other riders.

He financed his activities through a clothing store he operated in the King Street Arcade ('the finest display of gentlemen's mercery in the city, at popular prices'). He wrote a booklet entitled Reminiscences Including Cycling Experiences in 1925, and it was republished in 1933.

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Ken Ross

A SALUTE TO A CHAMPION

James Frederick Rugg

James was a cyclist who had the claim to fame that he was the first man to ride a penny farthing to Melbourne from Sydney. He raced with the Redfern Bicycle Club and won a medal for second place at the NSW Cyclists Union, Redfern Bicycle Club International Race Meeting on 21 August, 1886 riding in the 1 Mile Amateur Tricycle Championship of NSW. This is J. Fred Rugg and another rider standing beside their penny farthings. (photo soon)

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John James Ryan

Kindly submitted by John's son, Dean Ryan

Another Speedwell Lives

John James Ryan was born just as world war one ended. He grew up in Stanmore Sydney NSW.  Just another boy who loved to ride bicycles in a time when improvisation was the order of the day. During his early life he won a few races on bicycles that would only be used a scrap today. Cane rims were the norm.  He trained around Centennial Park & frequently rode his bike to Grafton to visit relatives.  He rode for either Marrickville or St George I’m not clear on this point I remember sitting with fascination listening to his recollection of races & training runs.  He would like to tell me how a Duncan Gray or a Vic Young would, at some distance from Sydney on a training run, ride past the group & power away showing no signs of strain.  These were living legends to him & his fellow riders of the time as they trained on a fixed 73 gear wheel.  He & his team mates would compete in such events as the Kurri Kurri 50 & the Goulburn to Sydney as well as the Sydney velodromes with fairly modes