A brief history of Dawes, the classic British brand behind the legendary Galaxy touring bike

A long time ago, on a [Dawes] Galaxy far, far away, solace-seeking British cyclists would roam free on the traffic-free lanes and byways of this once mighty land. From the Yorkshire Dales, over unpronounceable high passes of Wales, through the bothies of the Highlands and the banks of the Lakes they would venture.

All along their wheezy way they were backed faithfully by doorstep-sized cheese butties, sweetened by Kendal Mint Cake and washed down from tartan flasks filled to the brim with slow-stewing builder’s tea. All this was stashed in huge saddlebags and raggedly wrapped in bright yellow oilskin rain ponchos, stitched together and patched with dreams of escape and adventure.

These were the journeymen and women of the analogue Galaxy, regular folk who were often shunned by the fashion-conscious young sporting cyclists of the era, and figures who laid the very wheel tracks to a future far, far ahead. They were perhaps great woolly ancestors of bikepacking and gravel riding, the adventure cyclists of old... of course I'm talking about good old fashioned bike touring, and a large proportion of them would look no further than the classic Dawes Galaxy touring bike when choosing the ideal steed for their adventures. 

Revolving Dawes

It was way back in 1906 when Mr Humphries and Mr Dawes entered a partnership in the business of making motorcycles, and to a much lesser extent bicycles, as did many other British marques of the day.

Some 20 years on the duo parted ways, with Charles Dawes going head on into producing bicycles in Tyseley, West Midlands, sold under his family name; and so, Dawes Cycles was born.

A 1951 Dawes Courier (Flyingdutchman63, CC BY-SA 4.0)

From the outset Dawes made a name for themselves, producing quality family and leisure-orientated bikes that were affordable and good quality. In 1951 they launched the Courier, a bike aimed at the growing long-haul touring market, and soon after that they added the Windrush to their evolving touring bike range. These two models could well be considered as the parents of their future star model, which was not born until 1971.

The Galaxy touring bike, along with the many variations that followed on, was to put Dawes well and truly on the map when it came to quality bike manufacturing in the UK, and during a time when many of the major rivals were facing financial strife and takeover uncertainty.

A 1977 Dawes Galaxy (by and by, CC BY-ND 2.0)

For any cyclist who lived through the 1970s and right up until the 90s, the Dawes Galaxy was at the top of the list if you asked them to name a touring bike. Indeed, it would be fair to say that anyone with a passing interest in cycling during that era knew that the Galaxy was the bee’s knees when it came to quality touring bikes, and it was virtually a household name.

> Review: Dawes Super Galaxy

During the mid-70s Dawes were producing around 1000 bikes a week, which was impressive by anyone’s standards. All through the previous generations Dawes had remained a family business, right up until 1978, and they somehow evaded the takeovers that engulfed its near neighbours Brooks, Sturmey-Archer and Reynolds during that era.

Trading places

However, their reign as a family entity manufacturing in the UK was to follow the sad and well-trodden trail of most other classic brands of old... that being into an infernal cycle of takeovers by conglomerates, which naturally meant a drastic scaling down and outsourcing of manufacturing for Dawes. 

Even so, with a core of long-standing staff the brand still had a good reputation through the early years of mountain biking, with bike such as the Edge and the Double Edge tandem holding steady. They sat alongside classic later iterations of the Galaxy, as well as Milk Race and Team GB budget racing bikes among others.

Bikes such as the Dawes Discovery are still produced today, albeit without the sterling reputation of yesteryear

The Dawes brand was acquired by the Tandem Group back in 2001, and now stands alongside their many other classic British brand names. It's arguably all but a name on a range of medium to low-end family and commuter-orientated bikes, although the Galaxy remaining as a nostalgic star of past right up until 2020, when it was sadly discontinued after 49 years of continuous production.

The demise of the Galaxy was something of a travesty, falling victim to market trend in an era when, ironically, bikepacking and long-haul riding is more prominent and fashionable than ever before.

A vintage Dawes Ultra Racing bike (eBay)

Although Dawes were best known for their touring bikes, they did also make good racing bikes, sponsoring various pro teams and riders over the years. Many top British racers of the past used Dawes branded bikes, from Phil Bayton, Keith Lambert and Sid Barras through to Chris Walker, Jon Clay and Darryl Webster among others. They rode with teams such as Watertech and PMS-Dawes, and in 2012 the brand pulled off something of a huge marketing coup when Dawes bikes were supplied for the opening ceremony of the London Olympics.

Tales from Dave’s Galaxy

If you’re of a certain classic steel vintage age, then you most likely knew at least one local character who owned - or who had owned - a Dawes Galaxy. No doubt they had a saddlebag jam-packed with tall tales of adventures on their wonderful machines.

In my own case, during the late 70s and 80s that Galaxy rider was 'Dave'*, a portly middle-aged, working class and semi-retired salt of the earth character who was graced with a distinctly local twang; one that was so thickly laid that anyone outside of his immediate local galaxy would need an interpreter to make sense of him!

Whenever you pulled up at the local bike shop and saw that gleaming British racing green and chrome Galaxy propped up outside, then you knew you were not going to be getting away in a hurry. Much like Yoda with a flat cap, Dave was always perched on the much prized and rickety old three-legged wooden milking stool in the corner of the dusky labyrinth, otherwise called the workshop. Dave had most probably been there for hours already, and would remain so till closing time, entertaining all with his witticisms and slow-paced tales of adventures on his Galaxy. He was a man who would give and take the proverbial as much as anyone, and lord knows we all gave him enough of that.

Dave’s Galaxy stretched way beyond the Andromeda, and at least as far as distant rides to places like Hay Bluff, Barmouth and even beyond, distances that were hard to fathom as a young racer from the West Midlands. Eyes would cross paths and roll across the workshop like slow marbles, and we all loved Dave and his tall and slow tales of the road.

Looking at Dave, you’d just figure that he was a regular middle-aged fella... until the day when I was out on a long solo winter training ride in the middle of nowhere. After grappling up towards the top of a steep climb, I caught sight of this vision on the horizon, coming over the top in the opposite direction all weaving and panting through the chilled winter mist, and sure enough it was Dave on his Galaxy, and suddenly those tales began to make much more sense.

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All too often, while out riding we’d pass by a cafe or country ale house, and Dave’s Galaxy would be leant up outside. No doubt he’d be inside spinning tales and creating more memories of the open road.

Looking back, I guess these days we would say that Dave was indeed living the dream. We just didn’t know it at the time.

As I tap this tale out, I have an all new and revitalised take on Dave and those Galaxy riders, pioneers of the since rebranded and artisan embossed art of bikepacking. I do wonder just what Dave would make of the way things have gone, and indeed if he would be considered a gnarly old pioneering icon these days...

* Dave’s name was not actually Dave, but has been changed for this story to add to his mystique!