Re: ‘Bikes, bells and bad feeling' (The Weekend Sun, January 30).

If I may veer from the earnest and weightier local topics, a little history from Cape Town in the early days, which may ring bells with some.

There were far fewer bikes on the road then, of course.

But every year we were required to traipse to the council offices to have our annual registration renewed. A ‘warrant of fitness'.

They carefully checked wheels, tyres, brakes, mudguards, frame, warning device, (usually a bell) etc, stamped a number into the frame and we screwed a clear little number plate upright onto the rear mudguard.

The latter, identifying item was sometimes useful, and could be, here, today.

A light was mandatory after dark.

And three speed gears - wow - which helped a bit in coping with the two prevailing winds. And helped keep the dynamo lamp going.

The dynamo, as everyone knows, depends on the speed of the pedalling for its light. And thereby hangs a sad tale. My young brother took on a newspaper run, in the very early morning, when still almost dark.

On one of these occasions, and as the dynamo light inevitably faded away and stopped on the steep unlit slope, he was not only plunged into darkness, but found himself still seated upright on the bike, dropping into a black hole, only checked by an excruciatingly painful landing, still upright on the saddle.

He finally scrabbled his way out, and dragged out the bike, making his trembling way the three-four miles back home.

The council workers had neglected to put up the normal red warning light.

I can't remember how long it took for him to get back on the bike.

Incidentally, I cycled to work daily, a 20km total, and always had a bell, for those doubters!

D Holm, Pyes Pa.