Can learning to ride a bike as an adult help promote active travel?
I hopped on a bike to find out
The sun is shining, the wind is blowing through your hair, your feet are on the pedals and you feel like you’re flying. Welcome to the world of cycling: a skill most of us learnt as children, with fond memories of riding bikes with our friends after school, and passing our cycling proficiency with flying colours.
I wouldn't know what that's like. I’m 23 years old and I don’t know how to ride a bike. When I tell people this, their responses are a mixture of shock, doubt and disbelief (and the occasional “me neither!”, which I’m always grateful for). My parents gave me a couple of half-hearted lessons when I was younger, but quickly became disillusioned, as did I. Even now, my mum’s still adamant I know how to ride a bike, despite several failed attempts. I never made it past the stabilisers stage when learning as a child, and I’m not quite sure I can pull them off the same way my seven-year-old pigtailed self could.
I tried again in my first year of university, renting one of the city bikes that Cardiff used to have before the scheme was scrapped and being taught by my then-housemate. It was another unsuccessful attempt, resulting in a sprained wrist, a damaged Next Bike and a firm decision never to try this again.
It’s now 2025, the year that a 2017 government report had aimed to double cycling activity in the UK by. However, government data from September 2024 showed that cycling traffic levels have decreased by 2.6% since 2023 and by 32.8% since the peak in the series, in the year ending March 2021. Despite a £101 million government investment to boost cycling and walking nationwide, announced in March 2024, active travel isn’t on the rise.
What is active travel?
Active travel means walking or cycling when making everyday journeys, including to school, work, the shops or to access services.
I’m not the only one who made it to adulthood without learning to ride a bike. The tech brand HONOR UK found that almost a quarter of adults in the UK can’t ride a bike, an increase from five years ago, when the number was only one in eight. Of the people that couldn’t ride a bike, 16% said they were put off by fear of falling off, 14% were too embarrassed to learn, 37% were scared of getting into a new sport, 42% were scared of looking foolish, and 33% didn’t have the motivation to learn.
I spent more of my early lessons on the floor than on the bike. Image: Amelia Jones
I spent more of my early lessons on the floor than on the bike. Image: Amelia Jones
All of these were factors that had been putting me off. In fact, after announcing I was planning to learn how to ride a bike, my housemate told me I was going to get bullied for broadcasting that fact. I reminded her that she couldn’t ride a bike either. But it did make me question whether learning to ride a bike as an adult could help tackle the UK’s decline in cycling, and help promote active travel.
Training wheels forever
Alastair Walker, a 31-year-old data insights executive, can’t ride a bike either. He can’t remember trying to learn as a child, and has little desire to learn as an adult. “The biggest thing putting me off is looking and feeling like a fool,” he said, though if he did learn he would consider replacing his current bus commute with cycling.
Stephanie Harrison also joins me, Alastair and the rest of the 25% of British adults who can’t ride a bike. The 32-year-old post lady wishes she could learn, and attempted aged 24, but never stuck with it. She’s deterred by “buying a bike… and looking like a numpty.”
Like Steph, I was scared of looking like a numpty. But I put on my helmet, told myself I could learn and eventually commute by bike – for my health, for the environment but, most importantly, to show my mum I really didn’t know how to ride a bike. Yet.
Ready, set, pedal
I thought the first day might be a bit of a struggle, but I’d at least anticipated being able to get on the bike. My first mistake was borrowing a bike from a friend who was nearly a foot taller than me. I could barely manage to sit on the bike, let alone ride it. I quickly gave up, feeling pretty deflated, and vowed to find a smaller bike.
Upon going home, I mysteriously found four bikes that had been living in my garden, probably for several years. One of them I had to pull out of a bush that had grown around it. But once I pulled off any remaining leaves, the bike looked a much more appropriate size, and I could even reach the floor when I sat on it. This is where the real lessons started. Everyone says that learning to ride a bike stays with you forever, but the couple of lessons I’d had as a child had been pushed far out of my mind, because I had no idea what I was doing.
Video: Amelia Jones
Video: Amelia Jones
I went out with two friends — one held me on the bike as I attempted to pedal and steer, the other laughed. Steering has never been my strong suit, and when I tried to learn to drive (I still don’t have my license) this proved a similar issue. I seemed determined to veer towards the parked cars surrounding me, and unable to go straight no matter how hard I tried. I know it was only my second attempt, but I was feeling pretty demoralised at this point.
Tom Overton, the owner of The Bike Lock, a bike storage facility and cafe believes that many adults don’t attempt to ride a bike due to a lack of confidence – a factor I had definitely found holding me back. “Encouraging more adults to learn to ride a bike would have a massive impact on active travel,” he said, “but a lot of adults have ridden a bike when they were younger, but haven’t since. That means they lack the confidence to ride a bike now.”
"Riding a bike is a life skill, the same as swimming."
He thinks the solution is providing training on how to ride a bike, how to fix a bike, as well as making other road users understand and appreciate what it’s like to be on a bike.
“I believe riding a bike is a life skill, the same as swimming,” Tom said. “I think all young people should learn how to ride a bike in a school environment, but we should be giving adults the confidence to learn too.”
The turning point
Despite my low spirits from my last attempt, in my next lesson I turned a corner. My friend had the genius but slightly terrifying idea of pushing me down a hill, so I could focus on steering without having to worry about pedalling. Luckily I live in a pretty flat area, so we settled on a small slope which seemed to do the trick. I managed to pick up a bit of speed, which massively helped my balance, and gained a bit of confidence, which I then think helped my steering issue. I also found I wasn’t overthinking the different elements so much, and it came to me much more naturally than I thought possible given how disheartening my previous attempts had been.
The day before my big commute, my housemate took me for some final lessons. On inspection of my bike, he concluded that not only was the front tyre completely flat, the seat was far too high for me. No wonder I fell off every time I tried to stop, I couldn’t really reach the ground. I don’t know why I had assumed the seat couldn’t be lowered any further, and had given into my destiny of either riding, or falling. With the seat adjusted and the tyre inflated, he bestowed some final words of wisdom: “You’re not going to believe how easy it is to ride now.”
His faith was misguided. Although I thought I could ride a bike by this point (and really needed to if I was going to make my daily commute the following morning), I could only really ride in straight lines. Turning and stopping weren’t really something I had mastered, and the time I had to master them was quickly dwindling. In fairness, slowing down and stopping – and not falling off – became a lot easier after the seat was lowered, and more than just the tips of my toes could reach the ground. The turning proved to be more difficult, resulting in me falling off, getting laughed at by my neighbour, and grumpily resigning that I’d try again later.
The big day
Kat Kynes, a communications assistant for The Bikeability Trust, said encouraging adult cycling helps shift the mindset around transportation. “It shows that biking is a practical and enjoyable option, not just for children or athletes.
“Cycling is a great way to reduce traffic, cut down on emissions and improve health. It also makes commuting and running errands easier, cheaper and more enjoyable,” she said.
Through my experience of learning to ride a bike as an adult, I wanted to put this to the test, and see if it really could have a positive impact on active travel. The final hurdle in my journey? Replacing my regular bus commute with cycling.
I had cycled up and down my street a million times, I had mastered stopping, and I was well on my way to being able to turn successfully as well.
But cycling for thirty minutes, navigating around other cyclists and pedestrians, terrified me. I opted to ride through the park and on cycle paths, as I still lacked the confidence to test out the roads. Even though I’d be away from cars, I was still terrified.
I was definitely a bit shaky at first. But through the commute, I gained confidence, weaving my way in and out of other cyclists and walkers. Although it was my first time, I had already cut down the length of my commute by at least 15 minutes. It was free, I was moving my body, and I was even having fun, which is more than I can say for sitting on the bus.
If other adults are provided the necessary training and confidence needed to take those first steps and actually get on a bike, there would be a positive impact on active travel. At 23, I’ve learnt a massive life skill that has completely changed transportation for me. As someone who doesn’t drive, I have to rely on walking or public transport to get anywhere – neither being the quickest option. Now that I can ride a bike, I feel confident enough to adopt it into my regular routine, and continue to commute through cycling. A quarter of adults in the UK may not be able to ride a bike, but I’m no longer one of them.
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