Cycling's image is so different from when it was seen as a sweet-natured pursuit of children and maids around village greens. So if children's stories from back then were updated they'd go "Mrs Mablethorpe was cycling to Picklewitch Farm with Beryl Badger in her basket to pick up some delicious eggs.
'Ding-a-ling' went her bell as she passed Mr Jiffybag the postman.
'GET OUT THE FUCKING WAY, MABLETHORPE', yelled Mr Jiffybag, and threw a lovely round juicy orange at her head."
