Regent CC - Origins
(From Catherine MacDonald
) "The Regent was originally a Govan club meeting on a Sunday morning at Govan Cross. My dad Charlie McDonald along with Donald Molloy and a few others were founder members having come from a club called the Bellstar. My Mum was also in the club.  In the late fifties and sixties the main meeting place for the Sunday morning was the Hurlet at Nitshill.  Wednesday nights in the Summer they met at the King George V playing fields in Renfrew and had club track league and training on the cinder track.  Tuesday and Thursday after training they all came back to our house in Househillwood.  By that time most of the club members came from Pollock or Priesthill.  Yes the Beith Rock was where they met on a Sunday after racing or Sunday run and all came in the road together.  I was pushed home a few times myself."

Club Colours
They were always red, white and blue. The club minutes from 1939 record a vote to "change the club colours to white with a red and blue band." The earliest pics I’ve seen were early 50's with a dark blue jersey with red and white bands. Early 60's saw a lighter blue jersey with a red and white V. Mid 60's saw the introduction of the classic "blue body, white sleeves, red piping" - simple but stylish and somehow always easy to spot in the bunch.

The Hut
Late 60‘s through the 70‘s the club met at the Hut which was in the woods on the Lugton road between Shilford and Uplawmoor. The Hut was constructed and maintained by "The Doc" from flattened oil drums on a wood frame with bench seating all around.

The cosy fire was also made from oil drums and later a bike shed "extension" was added. The club run would usually end up at the Hut with the habble sprint for the Uplawmoor golf club. The original Hut was burnt down ("those Neilston boys") with a subsequent wooden building site construction for a couple of years which was never the same.

Phil’s Folly
Many know the hill on the Kilmalcolm to Lochwinnoch road as "Phil’s Folly" - but how did it get this name? The winter months would see former Scottish Sprint Champ Big Phil Seirs working hard in the gym and appearing out with the bunch to do some damage. The "damage" would be inflicted on the flat roads out to Bridge of Weir, but when we hit the hill to Lochwinnoch gravity would take effect and Phil would realise the "folly" of his ambition.

Shug 'n' the Dug
The watch dug (from Shilford garage) attacked the Hurlet bunch and bit Shug Donald. He felled it with one punch and the polis were dispatched. During his statement the polis said "occupation?" and Shug replied "dug food salesman".... to which the young polis responded "are you taking the piss !!!"
(by Kenny MacDonald from

Our Joe asked to borrow another member’s SCU handbook to check out some future events. Like many said member kept a note in the handbook of his results against previous events. "Ninth!" snorted our Joe "you keep a record of when you finished ninth!" For a couple of years after the principle insult in the club was for someone who finished "ninth."

Picture the scene at the bottom of the Rest'n'be thankful climb on a summers day in the late 70’s. It was the day of the Glasgow to Dunoon Road race. Some of the Regent CC were riding a 25ml TT on Loch Lomondside the same morning. Because of the dry weather, the campfire at the drum-up started getting a wee bit out of hand and spread among the dry grass. Those in attendance; Jimmy McGinty, Drew Robertson, Shug Donald, Ian Holmes, the Reid brothers, myself and more. Tea cans were despatched to the burn in order to curtail the spread – to no avail. In fact it got worse. "Jimmy, what should we do?", I asked. After a brief pause to consider all the options and make a wise and informed assumption, Jimmy said "Ah think we should get tae f_ _ _!" - and we all raced away up the Rest & Be Thankful!
(by Willie Gibb from

Our Joe
My dad's brother was the worst bicycle mechanic of all time - bar none. Most Sundays at some point Joe would have to stop for a mechnical. He'd start to look over the bike , then my dad would go over, followed by others, until eventually Joe's bike was surrounded. At this point we'd hear the flick  of a match as Joe would be leaning back smoking a fag...

One day we were down towards Muirkirk when Joe called a problem. This time his seat-pin had snapped clean off below the saddle. We found a garage open in Muirkirk. After much head scratching someone found an old broom handle and we were able to pare it down to fit into Joe's frame and fit the saddle clip on top. "That'll get you home" we said...

...three months later Joe was still riding round with the wooden seat-post

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