Errol Barker representing New Zealand in the amateur World Road Championship in the 1970s. Photo / Supplied
Phil Taylor, a former competitive cyclist, always wondered what had happened to New Zealand cycling champion Errol Barker. After hearing he'd died, he headed for Christchurch to attend his memorial service at the campground where Barker spent the last 25 years of his life.
Struggling with his mental health, Errol Barker, who died last month of natural causes on his 68th birthday, had dropped from the view of those of us who shared his cycling world. Some people knew about his bad crash, the bank heist, his stint in care, but you could say Errol became a forgotten cycling champion.
He died at Spencer Beach Holiday Park on the outskirts of Christchurch where he had lived in a caravan for the last 25 years of his life. A service was held for him there beneath tall trees. A peaceful place. Errol's bike leaned against one of the trees, bouquets propped against it. Pete Turnbull and I represented the cycling part of his life.
Chatting with his mother, Margaret, sharp-as at 91, and to his sister, Jill, helped with this outline of his life. His family was heartened by the affection shown for Errol, and the interest of people from his cycling past.
There was a karakia and impromptu speeches. We heard about Errol's music, and how a record was released in 1987. He called himself the Ziggy Stardust Band and, for the purposes of a subsequent cassette tape of more songs, he was Stack Zowie.
"Errol obviously had a fascination with David Bowie," says Arnie van Bussel. "It was important to him to get these tracks made and I was his vehicle."
Errol had turned up unannounced in the mid-80s at Arnie's Nightshift Studios in Woolston. He was on a bike Arnie thought was the type that could be broken in half for travel purposes. He had with him a Dr Rhythm Unit, a basic handheld device on which he'd recorded drum beats. There was a cassette tape of Errol on guitar and he had handwritten notes, words that Errol would deliver in a deepish monotone. His determination, Arnie's patience and the interest of indie record outfit Onset Offset saw the album released. Arnie thinks it even sold some copies overseas.
Thirty or 40 people attended the memorial: family, locals from the Spencerville community and some permanent residents of the park, campground staff and fire brigade volunteers, including Mike who had administered CPR to Errol. It was no use, a heart attack or aneurysm (only an autopsy could tell), but it was quick.
To those who knew him in his years living at the holiday park, Errol was the older gentleman who rode his bike in all weather, who smoked homemade cigars, bought a weekly treat of lollies at the camp shop, played his guitar, dressed in a heavy coat, dyed his hair black and painted his fingernails. Errol, who hardly spoke a word. He was the sort often described as "eccentric", but he was accepted by a core of this community. He was their eccentric. The manager made a tearful tribute. The bike was a constant. People commented on how fit he was. A few had heard he raced long ago. But they didn't know the half of it.
Errol made a name for himself in the 1970s with national titles as a junior (under 19) on the road and the track, and later in the senior ranks as a member of a strong Canterbury team pursuit squad with the talented Bruce Ramsay, Olympian Blair Stockwell and Tour de France rider Paul Jesson. Check the photo of the finish of that junior road championship. Errol looks ferocious. Daylight second, then Paul Medhurst, whose speed in 1974 won him a Commonwealth Games medal.
Jill: "He had a lot of determination — stubbornness. Training long hours, sometimes on his own. He'd come home and straight to the fridge! He used to do hundreds of miles. He had real strength and determination to push through."
The bike part of his story began in Timaru, aged 11. He showed ability straight away, catching the eye of a newspaper reporter. A move to Southland and coaching by Bunty Hewitt saw him develop further. Then came a move with his family to Levin, where his mum had found promotion in her teaching career, and a few years later to Christchurch.
At age 18, he was selected in the 1972 Air New Zealand team to compete in Australia but was unable to make the trip after breaking his collarbone in a race crash. Once his shoulder healed, Errol chased his dream to the Netherlands. He represented New Zealand in the 1973 world amateur road race in Barcelona, finishing 84th, and found a place in Dutch amateur outfit Ovis. The next year he again represented New Zealand at the world amateur road championships, this time in Montreal.
Errol wasn't without success in Europe but life on the other side of the world was becoming increasingly challenging. Racing was tough, he'd arrived in the Netherlands not knowing the language and other problems were rising. Errol's family confirms he had genetic mental health issues which would later lead to a diagnosis of schizophrenia. After competing in the 1974 Commonwealth Games road race in Christchurch, Barry Ulyatt and Gary Bell travelled to the Netherlands where they bumped into the younger Errol by chance at a race.
Barry recalls: "He impressed me as shy but clearly talented. A real loner, there on his own pursuing his dream. He was good but was struggling. The races there are all 100km criteriums and very hard. Gary and I got into a small team with him and rode some races in The Hague. He didn't do well but it was a tough scene. I did detect a hint of instability but I liked him and he was good company."
Errol's mother, Margaret, believes he was racing in England when a fellow Kiwi cyclist, concerned by Errol's mental health, put him on a flight home. By now Errol was 21. While he may have been troubled, he'd lost none of his physical ability or drive as he showed by all but pulling off an audacious victory in the 1975 NZ senior road championship at Mosgiel. Away on his own all day long in a race of more than 160km, Errol was swallowed by a chasing pack, virtually in sight of the chequered flag. It must have been heartbreaking but there was no mistaking his courage.
He combined training with work as a trainee watchmaker and at some point won a national bronze medal on the track in the 100km two-man event called The Madison. But possibly the next significant event in his life was a crash at Denton Park in about 1977. Tony Duder punctured and hit the deck, Errol collided with him, hitting his head on the concrete track. Back then, cyclists wore hairnet helmets, strips of foam in leather casing. Tony recalls going by ambulance with Errol to hospital. Tony's abrasions were treated and he was sent home. Errol wasn't so lucky.
Jill: "He had a hole in his head the size of a golf ball. From then on he went downhill." Errol now had a brain injury on top of his genetic mental health challenges. Though he tried to return to competitive cycling, that part of his life was over.
At some point, Errol drove a stolen car to Rangiora and robbed the local bank. He promptly deposited the money in his own bank account and unsurprisingly was arrested the same day. The family recall he wasn't convicted but was instead committed by the courts to Sunnyside Hospital as a "special patient".
Errol married in 1983, and has a daughter who lives in Australia. The marriage faltered and Errol found his way to Spencer Beach Holiday Park, where he lived out a quiet and harmless life with his bikes and his music.
He named a track on the Ziggy Stardust CD Schizophrenic Hotel. And then there is this hook line from the opening track. "I'm only a human boy."
Errol is survived by his mother, Margaret, sisters Karen, Jill, and Raewyn, his daughter Kate, and grandchildren Harry and Elijah.
NY Times: Heatwaves impair cognition, increase aggression, and disrupt self-control.