When I sent out the first issue of the Velorution Journal a few days ago, I wasn't sure what to expect. A few polite replies, maybe. Some unsubscribes. Probably both.
What I didn't expect was this.
Within hours, the replies started coming in. From London. From Madrid. From Indonesia. From Azerbaijan. From China. People who hadn't heard the Velorution name in years — some of them over a decade — writing back with memories, stories, and bikes they still ride today.
Here's a small selection. I'm genuinely moved.
The bike that started it all
One reader bought a Christiania cargo trike from Andrea back in 1999 — before Velorution even had a name. She was pregnant with her third child at the time, wondering how she'd carry a newborn by bike. She spotted the trike being unloaded on the street, left her details, and a few weeks later got a call to say a second-hand one had come up. Twenty-six years on, she's still a cyclist.
The Schindelhauer that never needed a service
One reader bought a Schindelhauer Thin Bike from Velorution in 2018. "Very cool piece of kit and a perfect daily commuter with almost no maintenance." He also asked if opening a physical shop again was financially viable...
I would love that one day.
Two bikes, one Saturday morning
One reader wrote on the morning the newsletter landed. He and his wife had been out cycling that very morning — on the two bikes they bought from Velorution, saying "it is a brand with a grip."
Reading the newsletter in a pub in Oxford
One reader wrote from a pub in Oxford having just read the newsletter over a pint. He bought a Chrome bag from Velorution around 2019 when he was a journalism student and cycle courier, and spent years writing about urban cycling culture. "Thank you for championing cycling," he signed off.
The Dutch bike that survived 20 years of commuting
One reader discovered Velorution by accident when it first opened near Portland Street. He fell in love with the "sit up and beg" Dutch bike and couldn't find one anywhere in London — until he walked into Velorution and met Andrea. He bought a second-hand black Dutch bike and cycled it to work for twenty years. Now retired, he's moved on to Bromptons. His postscript was quietly devastating: "Cycling has increased in London, yet cycling shops are on the wane."
Cycling from Azerbaijan to Cyprus — on Bromptons
One reader bought his bike from Velorution many years ago and now lives in Baku, Azerbaijan, where cycling is still in its infancy. He and his wife cycled from Azerbaijan to Cyprus on Bromptons. Unfortunately both bikes were stolen when they got back to the UK.
The bike that's still a talking point
One reader bought a Strada bike from Velorution years ago. "Still loving it. Still a talking point wherever I go."
From China, with love
One reader moved to London from China in 2015 and one of the first things he did was visit Velorution and buy two bikes. "For me, it is not just a bicycle. It is a culture, it is a lifestyle, it is an attitude." I couldn't have said it better myself.
A violinist on two wheels
One reader is a London-based violinist and content creator who performs across central London. As someone who moves around the city constantly for gigs, cycling is simply part of her life.
The architect building cycling into London's future
One reader bought a Strida folding bike from the Great Portland Street store and was even featured in the old Velorution magazine. He's now an architect working on a London building with exceptional cycling facilities. The Velorution community, it turns out, builds things.
Viva la Velorution!
One reader flagged something that stopped me in my tracks - and required a small confession on my part.
I'd arrogantly/ignorantly assumed "Viva la Velorution" was my own genius wordplay. It turns out I was wrong.
She grew up in Montreal, where the phrase "Vive la vélorution!" was already well-known - associated with a man called Bicycle Bob, one of Canada's first urban cycling campaigners. In the 1970s, in the wake of the oil crisis, he co-founded a group called Le Monde à Bicyclette, which staged what she describes as "cyclo-dramas" - not just die-ins, but weirder and wilder street stunts designed to make cycling political, visible and impossible to ignore.
The phrase itself is a French verlan neologism that apparently crossed the Atlantic and took root in francophone Canada decades ago.
So it turns out the revolutionary spirit behind Velorution has been alive a lot longer than I thought. I'm just the latest person to have independently arrived at the same idea — which, if anything, suggests it's an idea whose time has well and truly come.
These are just some of the replies I received. Every single one reminded me why this is worth doing.
If you have a Velorution story - a bike you still ride, a memory from one of the stores, a moment that made you love cycling - just hit the comment button below. I'd love to hear it.
Happy cycling,
Pete
