When people hear I’m riding twenty-one stages from iconic the Tours de France next summer, they usually ask about the mountains first. Then they ask about my legs, and then my sanity. It takes a while for anyone to ask who the money is for. For me, that’s where it all starts, and what matters most.
William’s story
In 1996, William Wates died during his gap year in Central America, a victim of street crime. He was a young man at the very start of his adult life. His family decided to do something in his name that would make a difference, and the William Wates Memorial Trust was the result.
The Trust’s mission is simple and clear. It helps the most disadvantaged young people stay away from crime and violence and reach their potential. It does that through grants to charities that reach young people through sport, the arts, and education. William’s father, Andrew, has said Will was aware of how privileged his own start in life had been, and wanted to help others. The Trust follows where his interests would most likely have taken him.
Le Loop grew out of that. In 2006 the family invited friends to ride stages of the Tour as a fundraiser, then called Tour de Force. It’s now the Trust’s main fundraising event, and riders have raised more than £6.5 million to date. The family are still at the heart of it; William’s parents and brothers are trustees, and the next generation are now riding stages too.
I find that deeply moving. A family took the worst thing that can happen to anyone and turned it into something that has helped thousands of young people they will never meet.
What I saw in thirty years of policing
I spent thirty years in policing, and I saw a great deal of what happens when young lives go the wrong way. Some of those young people were offenders and many were victims. Very often they were both. What remains with you is how early the path is set, and how few chances some children are given to step off it.
Policing deals with the consequences. By the time we arrive, something has already gone wrong. The work that really changes outcomes happens much earlier, before anyone has dialled 999: a youth worker who sticks around, a sports coach who notices, a music or art project that gives a teenager somewhere to belong and someone who believes in them. That’s exactly the work the William Wates Memorial Trust funds.
So when I was looking at Le Loop, the charity wasn’t an add-on to the ride. It became one of the main reasons I signed up, and the reason I have worked hard to get my raised amount to double what I am asked to raise already. I’ve seen what the alternative costs, in harm to victims, damaged families and wasted potential. Supporting the people who prevent that feels like a natural continuation of the work I used to do.
Seeing it for real
I’ve written before about my visit to XO Bikes at HMP Pentonville. What struck me there was how practical hope can be. A workshop, some tools, a skill and someone patient enough to teach it can make all the difference. I came away convinced that the money we raise isn’t disappearing into a general pot. It’s reaching people at the point where it counts.
Small worlds
I’ve been surprised by how many connections I’ve found along the way. Caroline, a fellow trustee from a charity board we both served on, turned out to have a family link to William’s school days, and her donation took me past my first fundraising milestone. It was a reminder that behind the charity is a real person, loved then and still dearly remembered now.
Why I’m asking
I’ve long passed the first fundraising milestone, and my own initial target. I’m now working towards £10,000 before I reach the Grand Départ in Nice. Every pound goes to the Trust and on to projects that give young people a better route than the one many of them are heading down.
If you can, please help me get there:
https://fundraising.wwmt.org/fundraisers/simonbowden/ride-le-loop
When I’m halfway up a mountain next July, cursing the gradient, I’ll think about William, his family, and the young people who’ll benefit. That should get me to the top.
Simon
