‘I Would Love for Him to Be Able to Ride to School’: Autistic Children and Barriers to Cycling for Active Travel in the United Kingdom

Introduction

This paper explores the barriers to cycling for active travel faced by autistic children and young people in the UK. Active travel means cycling for everyday transport and mobility (sometimes referred to as utility journeys), such as travelling to school or college, rather than cycling as a leisure or sports activity (WfW 2025). Our analysis is based on the findings of a small-scale, qualitative, interview-based research project, which explores the cycling trajectories of children, aged 9 to 14, who have been diagnosed with autism. It draws on data from interviews conducted by author one during 2022/2023 and highlights the key factors that affect the opportunities for autistic children to learn how to cycle and the barriers that prevent them taking up cycling for utility journeys. The themes include the physical barriers and the lack of access to non-standard cycles, sensory and social barriers and the lack of accessible cycle training. We locate our exploration of the barriers that autistic young people encounter to cycling for active travel in the context of disabled people’s rights, the climate crisis and eco-ableism.

In the UK, a disability rights perspective is shaped by the Social Model of Disability. According to the Social Model of Disability, a person is not disabled by their impairment (e.g., their physical, cognitive, sensory or health status), but rather by the impediments to equal participation that are created by a discriminatory society (Barnes 2003; Inclusion London [no date]; Yeo and Bell 2026). These impediments are referred to as barriers to participation and they can be physical, cultural, economic, social and material. As such, the focus of disabled people’s rights is to remove the barriers to participation rather than to change, cure or ‘normalise’ the person’s capacities or functioning (Barnes 2003; Inclusion London [no date]; Yeo and Bell 2026). Similarly, we understand autism within the neurodiversity paradigm (Botha et al. 2024; Toronyi 2021). Here, neurodiversity refers to the diversity of human brains and minds: the infinite variation in neurocognitive functioning within our species. This concept challenges deficit-based, medical models of autism (based on a neurotypical perspective) and aligns with the Social Model of Disability, positioning autistic individuals not as problems to be fixed but as people marginalised by societal structures (Goodley 2016). This perspective also foregrounds how social institutions, environments and cultural norms are frequently organised around neurotypical assumptions, resulting in the exclusion of neurodivergent people from everyday forms of participation and citizenship (Stenning et al. 2021). From this perspective, difficulties experienced by autistic people are not understood as individual impairments but as relational and context-dependent, emerging through interactions between people, environments and dominant expectations of ‘normal’ functioning. Such framing is central to contemporary disability studies and underpins the ethos of this paper, which views barriers to cycling not as due to deficits in autistic children, but as failings in environments, policies and practices.

In the UK it is widely acknowledged that disabled people face significant barriers to transport and mobility, including lack of access to personal mobility aids and the inaccessibility of public transport (Transport for All 2023; WfW 2025). The UN Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (UNCRPD) highlights the right to mobility as essential for disabled people’s equal participation in society and basic human dignity. Article 20 states that signatory nations (which include the UK) must ‘a) facilitate the personal mobility of persons with disabilities in the manner and at the time of their choice, and at affordable cost; [and] b) Facilitate access by persons with disabilities to quality mobility aids, devices, assistive technologies and forms of live assistance and intermediaries, including by making them available at affordable cost’ (United Nations 2006). This is particularly important for our research given that one of the significant barriers highlighted in our study was the lack of access to accessible cycles and the cost of them, which prevent many autistic children/young people from cycling for active travel or, indeed, from cycling at all.

The right to mobility is all the more relevant in the context of the climate crisis and the shift towards low carbon and active mobility. The UK government has acknowledged the need to move away from fossil fuel production and consumption and towards more sustainable energy systems (Burnett et al. 2026). Transport is a significant emitter of carbon, contributing 30% of the UK’s total carbon output in 2024 (Burnett et al. 2026). Motor transport also harms air quality via non-exhaust particulates released from tyres and braking systems, which have serious health impacts and which have been increasing in the UK since 1996 (DEFRA 2026). Disabled people in the UK, and worldwide, tend to be the worst affected by both the impacts of climate change and poor air quality (Jodoin et al. 2022; Schleck and Ben-Alon 2024; Yeo and Bell 2026).

Recent policies in the UK have emphasised the role of active travel, usually framed as walking and cycling, in reducing all types of emissions from motor vehicles, as well as improving public health (DfT 2020). However, active travel is often conceived in ways which reproduce ableist assumptions that disabled people cannot walk or cycle and that accessibility for, and the inclusion of, disabled people are not relevant in active travel. This means that active travel policy, infrastructure and delivery, including incentives to take up active travel, such as subsidised access to standard bicycles, continue to exclude disabled people (WfW 2025). For example, in the UK, cycle training for non-disabled children is provided in mainstream education via Bikeability, a state-funded programme, which intends to equip children with the skills to cycle for utility journeys. The training is based on the assumption that children will ride a standard two-wheeled bicycle and will learn in large groups and in neurotypical ways (Bassford and Inckle 2026). It was only in early 2026 that a pilot project was announced to deliver some Bikeability training to disabled students attending a small number of specialist schools in the UK (Bikeability 2026). This means that the majority of disabled children in the UK cannot access state-funded cycle training, and that the training that is funded by the state is not accessible for most disabled children. The lack of accessible cycle training for autistic children and young people was a key issue reported in our study.

The exclusion of disabled people (adults and children) from climate mitigation policies, such as active travel, and climate emergency responses is an international issue (Jodoin et al. 2022; Schleck and Ben-Alon 2024; Yeo and Bell 2026) and disabled activists have described this as eco-ableism (Pledl 2021). ‘Disabled and neurodivergent environmental activists coined the term eco-ableism to name discrimination toward disabled people (i.e., ableism) arising in environmental policy, planning, and activism (i.e., eco-ableism)’ (Schleck and Ben-Alon 2024). Eco-ableism has a number of facets, including not providing for disabled people in climate crisis situations (such as flooding), not including disabled people in policy and protocol development for climate crisis or climate mitigation policies, and implementing policies which have a disproportionately negative impact on disabled people such as removing or taxing items that may be considered optional for non-disabled people but which may be essential for disabled people (Jodoin et al. 2022; Pledl 2021; Schleck and Ben-Alon 2024; Yeo and Bell 2026). In the UK, active travel policy and practice is often at the centre of the challenges of eco-ableism, as disabled people feel penalised for using private motor vehicles even though cycling and public transport remain largely inaccessible to them (Yeo and Bell 2026).

In this paper we explore the barriers to utility cycling for a small cohort of young autistic people in the UK and the ways in which provision, policy and public attitudes (material, social and cultural barriers) prevent them from participating in cycling for active travel. Removing the barriers to cycling for autistic children is essential in ensuring that they can participate in climate mitigation policies (active travel) as well as enjoy the mobility and health benefits that non-disabled children access through cycling.

A Note on Terminology

Neurodiversity, neurodivergent and neurotypical are terms that originate in the autistic people’s rights movement (Botha et al. 2024). However, they are now used much more widely to include the experiences of people with diagnoses such as Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD), Dyslexia, Dyscalculia and Dyspraxia, as well as those with brain injuries or psychiatric diagnoses. This research focuses specifically on children diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Conditions (ASCs), but a number of the children/young people had additional diagnoses that fell under the more contemporary definition of neurodiversity. For both of these reasons, we use the terms neurodivergent and autistic interchangeably.

We also use language about cycling in very specific ways to be both inclusive and accurate. According to Inckle (2019) a bicycle is a two-wheeled vehicle for one person which is pedalled with the feet and is often referred to as a bike. Bicycles are usually pictured to illustrate cycling, particularly in discussions of active travel; however, there are many more cycle types available and, indeed, the handcycle was invented long before the standard bicycle (WfW 2025). We therefore refer to bikes/bicycles as standard cycles and use the term non-standard cycle to refer to other types of cycle.

A non-standard cycle may have two or more wheels, be pedalled with the hands or feet and transport one or more persons. Common non-standard cycles include upright and recumbent tricycles (trikes), tag-alongs, handcycles and tandems. Both tag-alongs and tandems offer partnered riding, and tandems can be two, three or four wheeled with riders seated one in front of the other or side-by-side and pedalling with the hands and/or feet. A tag-along is essentially the back half of a bike attached to a standard bike that pulls it along. Tandems and tag-alongs are particularly accessible for a rider who struggles with steering, pedalling and reacting to road conditions, or who has a visual impairment. Cycles with three (or four) wheels mean the rider does not need to be able to balance or put their feet down when the cycle is stationary.

A recumbent cycle positions the rider in a reclining position and supports riders who prefer a lower centre of gravity or who cannot cycle in an upright position. A handcycle usually has three wheels, is pedalled by the hands rather than the feet and provides access to cycling for riders with limited or no lower-body mobility. Seating position can vary on a handcycle, including recumbent or upright options.

Further modifications and adaptations can be made to a standard two-wheel or non-standard cycle to suit a particular need. This might include wiring brakes and gears onto one handle, adding a foot plate to a pedal to make it easier for riders to rotate them, or increasing handlebar height or changing the texture of the handgrips to make them more accessible.

‘Cycle’ is, therefore, an inclusive term which incorporates all forms of cycle and types of cyclist, while bike or bicycle only refers to a more limited proportion of machines and the cycling population.

Methodology

This paper draws on a small-scale qualitative research project exploring the cycling trajectories of autistic children and young people aged 9 to 14 years. A total of 14 interviews were conducted by author one during 2022/2023, including face-to-face, online and by telephone, according to the participants’ preferences.

The project was designed in conjunction with a disabled people’s cycling organisation, Wheels for Wellbeing (WfW), where author two works, which facilitated the recruitment of the research participants through their online newsletter and Twitter feed (n = 7). Additional recruitment (n = 7) was facilitated by author one’s personal Twitter account and via regional autism sports networks and a specialist school for children on the autistic spectrum with whom author one was already connected.

All participants were provided with an information form and a combined consent and commitment form which allowed participants to stipulate any further boundaries or conditions that were specific to their participation (Inckle 2019). The research proposal underwent ethical review at De Montfort University, in Leicester, UK, where author one works (reference number 432345). In total, 10 participants were male and 4 were female, a gender profile that reflects the wider population of autistic children at this age as females are often diagnosed later in life.

To participate in the research, individuals needed to self-identify as autistic or have a diagnosis. All of the children who wished to participate in the study had official diagnoses of ASCs. Some of the children had additional diagnoses including hypermobility, Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD), Dyspraxia (now typically referred to as Developmental Coordination Disorder), ADHD and moderate learning disability. The co-existence of such diagnoses is common amongst autistic people and is pivotal to some of the specific access needs discussed later in the paper.

In all cases, the parents or carers of the autistic children/young people were interviewed. None of the children themselves wished to participate directly in interviews, although all were happy for their parent/carer to discuss their experiences and cycling trajectories. This was not unexpected, for several reasons. First, some autistic young people may find formal interview contexts difficult or inaccessible forms of communication. Second, many of the children were still relatively young and may not yet have been able or willing to reflect retrospectively on their experiences of learning to cycle. Third, parents and carers had often been closely involved in supporting cycle learning and mobility decisions over many years and were able to provide longitudinal perspectives on the barriers, challenges and milestones their children had encountered.

The interviews therefore reflect parental and carer perspectives on autistic children’s experiences of cycling and active travel. We recognise both that parents cannot speak for all autistic children and that autistic children and young people are not a homogeneous group. Accordingly, this paper does not seek to generalise the autistic experience, but rather to explore how parents and carers described the barriers, opportunities and forms of support shaping their children’s cycling and mobility journeys. The experience of neurodivergent people, and especially children, is rarely centred in active travel (WfW 2025) and the purpose of this paper is try to redress that, albeit within the limitations highlighted above.

Six interviews were conducted face-to-face within a specialist school attended by some of the children whose parents/carers participated in the study. Three interviews were conducted via telephone, three through Facebook Messenger using text-based communication and two via MS Teams video-calls. Offering multiple modes of participation was intended to support accessibility and accommodate participants’ differing communication preferences, availability and caring responsibilities.

The face-to-face, telephone and video-call interviews lasted between 38 and 65 minutes. Due to the asynchronous nature of Facebook Messenger communication, some text-based interviews took place over several days, allowing participants additional time to reflect on and respond to questions. Telephone, face-to-face and video-call interviews were digitally recorded and transcribed verbatim, with anonymisation undertaken during transcription. Text-based interviews were downloaded and anonymised prior to analysis, and all original messages and recordings were deleted after transcription. Pseudonyms were assigned to all participants and all interviewees elected to receive the project outputs.

The interviews were semi-structured and explored participants’ experiences of children’s cycling journeys, including learning to ride, access to cycle training and non-standard cycles, sensory and environmental experiences, and social and safety issues in cycling for active travel. The interviews were guided by a flexible topic schedule rather than a fixed sequence of standardised questions, allowing participants to emphasise the issues most relevant to their own experiences and circumstances. Follow-up and probing questions were used to explore emerging themes in greater depth and to clarify participants’ accounts. This flexible approach was particularly important given the differing communication formats used within the study and the diverse experiences of participants.

Consistently with qualitative and disability research traditions (Barnes 2003), we recognise that research is shaped by researcher positionality and by the relationships through which knowledge is produced. The authors bring both personal and professional experience to this study: author one is a parent of autistic young people and author two is a disabled researcher specialising in cycling, mobility and disability research. These experiences informed the development of the research questions and our sensitivity to issues of accessibility, exclusion and mobility justice.

Qualitative text-based data were organised and analysed thematically using Template Analysis, as described by King (2012). Template Analysis involves the development of a coding template containing themes identified by the researcher(s) as significant recurring patterns and relationships within the dataset. Data coding was carried out by author one and generated a broad range of descriptive and interpretive codes relating to participants’ experiences of cycling, including sensory experiences; physical challenges; environmental conditions; social interactions; and the accessibility of training, equipment and infrastructure. Through iterative comparison across interviews, codes were progressively refined, combined and organised into broader thematic categories. The themes explored in this paper are physical and equipment barriers, including lack of access to accessible cycles; sensory and social barriers, including lack of accessible cycle training; and the impact of infrastructure.

Physical and Equipment Barriers

Motor coordination and balance are key factors in learning to ride a standard bike. Many autistic children struggle with motor coordination and may take longer to develop the skills necessary to independently pedal, steer and balance a bike. In addition, motor planning and sequencing may be difficult, making it challenging for autistic children to perform the necessary movements in the correct order (Brossard-Racine et al. 2012). It is no surprise then that participants described challenges related to the physical operation of a standard bike. Broadly, the challenges related to balance, pedalling, holding the handlebars and controlling the hand brakes; however, less balance and/or motor control and sequencing is required to ride a tricycle or tandem and, had the children in our study had easy access to non-standard cycles, their cycling trajectories may have been very different.

During interviews parents/carers often described their child’s general physical challenges and then related them to learning how to cycle. Stanley, aged 12, experienced issues with many practical aspects of cycling, not just balance:

When Stanley was about three, we thought we’re getting a bike with stabilisers. We were thrilled with it. He was less than thrilled and he just couldn’t do the pedalling, the braking, steering, anything. If the wind blew as well, that was kind of game over.

Teddy did not learn to walk until he was three and a half years old, which had implications for finding him a suitably sized first bike:

Most balance bikes sort of end at that sort of age range, didn’t they? So you kind of slightly wonder whether he would manage a balance bike now, and he might actually find that quite fun, but obviously because he’s 13 that he’d be too big for balance bike.

Twins Jimmy and Joey (aged 12) experienced similar barriers to cycling because the adaptations they required for their bikes were not available in an appropriate size.

Jimmy and Joey chose their own bikes during lockdown 2020 and we fit stabilisers on them, which was a challenge in itself, as stabilisers are designed for little kid’s infant bikes, not junior size bikes like the boys needed. They were excited but didn’t like how they wobbled with the stabilisers on.

Lottie’s parent felt that they somehow ‘missed the boat’ in relation to trying balance bikes: ‘I regret not having one’.

In addition to balance, Stanley’s parent explained how the sequencing of the actions required to cycle a standard bike presented a challenge.

I don’t think Stanley understands that you have to kind of hold on and brake at the same time. He will literally move his hands from the handlebars to the brakes, which is quite scary to see.

Jimmy and Joey also had difficulty coordinating each physical aspect of cycling a bike.

Jimmy just couldn’t get the pedals to go forwards, only backwards for half a turn here or there. We showed them how to pull the brakes and when they were not moving they could touch the brake levers but didn’t have the strength to actually pull them. So off they go at speed down the road, with us running behind screaming “STOP!” as they approach a kerb or something.

The conversations about balance and coordination led to discussions about alternative types of cycle. Peter, aged 12, was taken to a local park where a charity was renting out tricycles: ‘Peter didn’t need any guidance whatsoever. He jumped on this trike and pedalled. It was brilliant. It was like it all clicked into place for him.’

Peter’s experience highlights how the right type of cycle in the right environment can make cycling possible, and his parent described how much Peter enjoyed using a recumbent handcycle on a track:

We kind of knew that Peter liked the idea of this movement on this apparatus, but he felt safe ‘cause he was kind of lower to the ground. His legs were out front, not doing anything and he moved it with his hands, liked it, and went round the track numerous times.

Whilst this was a special moment for the family, he was unable to take the tricycle beyond the park and they have never been again. Peter’s parent discussed how they would need to apply for funding to purchase a similar cycle for him and that, even if that was successful, storage would be a problem as the tricycle may not fit down the side access to their property and there was nowhere else to store it. The problems of accessing non-standard cycles, the cost of them and difficulty accessing secure storage are three of the main barriers to cycling that disabled people report (WfW 2022). From a disability rights perspective, accessible cycles are essential for disabled people to undertake utility journeys in an active and sustainable way. An accessible cycle enables essential mobility for many disabled people, allowing for participation, independence and the health and wellbeing benefits of it (Inckle 2019). Similarly, Moser (2006) highlights that such assistive technologies reconfigure bodily norms, challenging dominant ideas of ‘normal’ movement. The use of tricycles, tandems and handcycles is not merely adaptive; it redefines what it means to be mobile, capable and included.

Many of the interviewees were aware of alternatives types of cycle and community-based initiatives that provide opportunities for people to access them. At a local park, Henry, aged 12, tried recumbent cycles and enjoyed it because he said it felt more stable. Dylan’s family hired a tag-along tricycle on holiday, which he enjoyed; however, his parent noted that he would not want to be seen by his friends at home riding on a tricycle and attitudinal barriers may negate the options available for some children (see also WfW’s (2022) report, in which disabled people report that public hostility and harassment are a significant barrier to cycling). This was true for Daniel, whose parent emphasised the need for ‘Other kids to be kinder I guess! So if he did end up with a large tricycle, he didn’t get teased!’

Another feature that can make cycling more accessible is e-assist, which enables people to cycle who may not have the musculoskeletal or cardiovascular capacity to cycle an unpowered vehicle – and is especially helpful in hilly terrain (WfW 2022). Henry’s parent suggested he would benefit from a part-motorised self-drive cycle, with self-changing gears and support with braking as well as e-assisted pedalling. If such a cycle exists it would be extremely expensive to purchase, as well as quickly outgrown. Moreover, it is not currently legal in the UK for a child under 14 to use either an e-cycle or a ‘class 3 invalid carriage’ (e.g., a larger powered wheelchair or mobility scooter), which creates a legal barrier to mobility for autistic and other disabled children for whom e-assisted devices are essential (WfW 2025).

Florence’s family had ruled out her riding a tricycle, owing to the difficulties related to transporting it and the expense, and invested in an e-assist, lightweight, rear-steer, tandem cycle, which, with its small wheels, was more portable than a tricycle. The weight and the cost of accessible cycles posed significant challenges for Teddy’s family:

We do a lot of cycling as a family and so initially we just used to pull him along in a trailer and then we managed to get a recumbent handcycle and then you have an adult sitting behind him. I can’t manage now because if he refuses to cycle, the bike is heavy and he’s heavy and it’s too much for me to propel him.

Autistic children often need cycles with more than two wheels, which can carry more than one person and benefit from e-assist. These features come at significant cost and pose additional barriers in terms of safe and secure parking and storage at home and destinations, as Peter’s parent highlighted: ‘Will there be a safe place to park it and keep it safe whilst we’re in the shop?’

Most parents in this study had approached teaching their children how to cycle in a traditional way with bicycles with stabilisers and balance bikes. Many parents noted that these aids were often not age/size-appropriate for their child, because of neurotypical assumptions about the trajectory of learning to cycle. Most of the children included in this study had, at some point, experienced a non-standard cycle within a local park or inclusive cycling centre. However, the cost, size and weight of an accessible cycle made storing and transporting it difficult and were significant barriers to purchasing one.

Sensory Challenges and Adaptations

Sensory challenges, or sensitivities, whether described as over- or under-sensitivity, can impact an autistic child’s everyday life, and this theme explores learning to cycle in the context of sensory barriers. The sensation of wind blowing in their face, the feeling of pedalling and balancing on a moving object and the noise of traffic and other environmental stimuli can all be exhilarating and/or overwhelming for autistic children. They can cause anxiety and even physical discomfort, presenting challenges for autistic children learning to cycle.

Some interviewees commented on how sensory experiences impacted upon their child’s acceptance of wearing a helmet or knee or elbow pads. For example, Henry would only wear specific helmets that did not irritate him, whilst Dylan refused the restriction he felt elbow and knee pads imposed and would not wear a helmet.

Lottie, aged 11, can ride a two-wheeled bicycle; however, the sensory challenges she experiences, which her parents describe as ‘sensory seeking’, mean that she has a high threshold for sensory input. A ‘high threshold’ means that, in order to register input, a person requires significantly greater frequency, intensity or duration than a neurotypical person. Children who can appear hyperactive are commonly mistaken for having a large amount of energy, when in some cases, such as Lottie’s, the child’s brain is not feeling satiated with the level of sensory input. As a result, Lottie’s parent describes her as having a ‘thrill-seeking’ side which becomes apparent when learning activities such a skiing, as well as when riding a bicycle.

It might be assumed that sensory seekers will feel satiated, or more ‘regulated’, as they receive more sensory input. However, sensory seekers can often become dysregulated unless the sensory input is organised in a structured and goal-specific provision. The knock-on effect of unstructured input and spiralling dysregulation can lead to a sensory seeker trying to receive the sensory input that their body craves, even if this leads them to disregard social etiquette or, indeed, safety. Learning to cycle can consequently pose significant challenges in this regard. For example, Henry has an official diagnosis of SPD and hypermobility:

Henry’s now on a sensory diet which helps to regulate his balance, energy, focus, etc. Sometimes, depending on his sensory needs he can’t manage to cycle, walk, get dressed, etc.

Cycling might also offer the kind of sensory input that a child seeks, as Peter’s parent describes:

I would love for him to be able to ride to school. I think he would absolutely love it. It’s giving that sensory need before school and he might actually arrive ready to study, so he’s not so bouncy.

Certain textures and surfaces are common causes of concern for autistic children. Jimmy and Joey have sensory aversions to specific materials which they refuse to touch, such as cold metal and wood. Fortunately, handlebar grips tend to be made out of rubber, so as long as they can avoid touching the metal handlebars, the materials on a bicycle do not impose an additional challenge. This suggests that alternative materials and textures that increase comfort for autistic children are a key accessibility feature of different types of cycle.

Vibrations also affected the comfort of some children as they travelled over different surfaces, affecting their confidence to move to any location other than the single quiet, flat road they were learning to ride on. Henry did not like the sensation of the handlebars when he went on certain surfaces. This highlights that autistic children benefit significantly from accessing not just the ‘right’ type of cycle, but also the ‘right’ kind of location.

Social Factors and Barriers to Learning to Ride a Cycle

Social factors play a role in learning to ride a cycle. Autistic children may have access needs in regards to communication, social interaction and self-regulation, which can impact their opportunity to learn from others and follow instructions. In addition, some children may experience social anxiety, presenting challenges to learning in a group setting or practising in public (Liu et al. 2020). Autistic children may feel overwhelmed by the new experience of riding a bike, which can lead to avoidance and reluctance to try again. To address this barrier, it is important to create a supportive and accessible learning environment that takes into account the child’s individual access needs. For example, using a quiet and safe space to learn to ride a bike, such as a park or a school playground, can help reduce anxiety. Additionally, using visual aids and social stories can help prepare autistic children for the experience of riding a bike and reduce anxiety (Watanabe and Stagnitti 2021). Parents described a wide range of experiences which differed in some respects, but some common themes can be drawn from them.

Some children showed significant anxiety about learning to cycle. For example, even though Eva was keen to buy a bicycle because it had a little basket on the back with a soft toy panda in it, when she tried to ride she kept pedalling backwards and she would scream in distress. Despite trying various locations, her anxiety was evident, and the family therefore decided to let Eva try a scooter with big inflatable wheels and brakes instead. Again, Eva liked the look of it but was too afraid to try it.

Similarly, whilst Dylan had no previous negative experiences related to learning to cycle, he would not try. His parent interpreted this reluctance as reflecting a fear of falling, although Dylan himself simply expressed no interest in cycling. This distinction is important, as a lack of interest should not necessarily be understood as a barrier requiring intervention. Rather, as with all children, autistic children should be free to choose the forms of mobility that best suit their preferences and needs.

Freddie’s younger sibling, Constance, had a mixed reaction to learning to cycle. Initially she took to cycling with stabilisers, learning at the same time as her brother. However, her confidence fluctuated and this affected her engagement with a range of activities, including cycling, sometimes causing acute distress if she did not feel prepared in advance. Her parent identified this as a socially based fear: ‘She’s always afraid of failing or showing herself up.’

In some interviews, parents questioned the impact that they themselves had upon their child learning to ride, worrying that their learning methods might have been part of the difficulty. Henry’s parent felt they were partly responsible for the challenges he faced and that their influence had led to Henry’s anxiety and resistance to trying. They also found that when they shaped the learning experience to suit their child’s learning style, there were positive results: ‘I think just have a little more patience and look for the signs Henry was calm and open to trying. Make it more of a game but also understanding the logistics of cycling.’ Eva’s parent similarly felt that they had initially had a negative impact on Eva’s success and changed their approach: ‘Eventually I got one of my neighbours to do it with her, ‘cause I thought if it’s someone different than doing it with us she would manage to do it.’

Peter’s parent felt that they would have benefited from specialist cycle training for autistic children: ‘It would be really good if some kind of charity organisation bike riding people were to go into special schools.’ Henry’s parent similarly felt that learning alongside other autistic children, using specialist teaching methods and repeated practice, would have improved his confidence and willingness to learn. These approaches could readily be delivered in schools by instructors experienced in both cycle training and accessible learning methods.

There have been some small-scale innovations in learning to cycle for autistic children that involve a combination of specialist teaching and learning methods alongside accessible cycles. A study by Ketcheson et al. (2018) found that using balance bikes, which have no pedals and allow children to learn to balance first, before transitioning to traditional bikes, can be an effective way to teach autistic children how to ride a bike. Specialised training for autistic children in other physical activities suggests that a range of effective techniques can be implemented in learning to cycle (Yilmaz et al. 2004). An effective approach for autistic children to learn can be to break down the task into smaller steps and provide clear instructions. Using visual cues or aids, such as pictures or videos, can also help the children to understand the steps involved in cycling and how to execute them. Providing social support and encouragement can also be critical. Social stories, which are personalised stories that help children understand social situations and expectations, can also be an effective way to help autistic children understand the social aspects of cycling and feel more comfortable participating in this activity (Stephenson and Carter 2009). This research highlights that there are protocols for specialist training for autistic children within the UK, but participants were not aware of any in their region. Further, as noted in the introduction, it was only in early 2026 in the UK that a pilot project was announced to deliver specialised Bikeability training to disabled children attending a small number of specialist schools (Bikeability 2026).

Environmental and Infrastructural Barriers

Across the UK, there are a number of organisations, such as Wheels for Wellbeing and Wheels for All, that run dedicated activities for children and adults to experience a range of non-standard cycles. A number of the parents interviewed spoke highly of these events, describing them, for example, as a ‘wonderful experience’. However, these cycles were only available for use in dedicated areas, such as a stadium or a park area with a pathway circling it. So, whilst the cycles provided a great opportunity to see if their child felt more suited to a particular cycle, they could only be used for that period of time and in that location.

Inclusivity requires access to both utility and leisure cycling, as Florence’s parent describes:

I think there’s quite a lot of provision, certainly around us, for having a go, doing an experience day like Formula One driving. Nobody’s gonna claim it isn’t driving, but you’re going round and round a loop. You don’t go anywhere.

True inclusivity would encompass access to non-standard cycles physically and spatially. Barriers to this include cost, as well as storage and transportability of non-standard cycles, as highlighted in the previous themes and supported by other research (e.g., WfW 2022). The lack of provision of suitable and secure parking for cycles at destinations as well as at home was a significant barrier to Florence joining her parents and making utility journeys: ‘If there isn’t good cycle parking and you don’t wanna be parking something that expensive when you can’t get your D lock fully round it.’

In addition to safe parking at destinations, there are other infrastructural issues which specifically impact autistic children making utility journeys. These include road conditions, and the accessibility of road-adjacent and off-road cycle infrastructure. Inclusive public space design requires a fundamental rethinking of environments that have historically privileged normatively non-disabled users. As Imrie (2012) argues, traditional approaches to the built environment often treat disability as a ‘special’ need to be accommodated post hoc, rather than designing spaces from the outset to anticipate and support a spectrum of physical, sensory and cognitive access needs. This perspective aligns with Hamraie’s (2017) critical work on universal design, which frames accessibility not merely as a technical fix but as a political and cultural practice. Hamraie contends that design decisions are acts of power that determine who is welcome in public space and who is excluded. Together, these scholars urge a shift toward infrastructures that embed accessibility as a core design principle – enabling diverse ways of moving, interacting and existing within the built environment.

Some parents raised physical road hazards, such as potholes, as issues that prevent some trips from taking place, or the high volume of traffic. Stanley’s parent stated, ‘I think it’s not safe here. The way cars drive around here,’ and went on to suggest that,

I do think we need more cycle paths, really wider actually, and I know it’s not going to be possible, but you know, any new place that’s being built, any new estate should have a good cycle path.

Other parents raised similar concerns about riding on the roads and the challenges in making cycling accessible for autistic children. Peter’s parent lamented that,

If there was some kind of dispensation, so that you wouldn’t get in trouble or get abuse from people if Peter was to be riding on his trike [on the pavement], because obviously I’d be with him on my bike and I couldn’t go on the road and leave him on the pavement.

Peter’s parent reported receiving abuse numerous times for riding on the pavement, even though the roads were not safe. This is also an issue in areas where cycle paths are not consistently available: ‘A lot of these cycle paths in London are just on the side of the road. They often sort of peter out as you get to a complex junction.’

Road-adjacent cycle paths also often being of poor quality posed barriers to autistic children. Florence’s parent describes a typical journey to school with Florence’s nine year-old, neurotypical sibling, which includes road-adjacent cycle infrastructure:

We had to get it to the point where he can ride on my left and he has to be able to ride just there. It’s minor roads, and then an off-road track. Except it’s narrow and it slopes towards the road, so it’s quite intimidating to be on and it’s next to a 40 mile per hour road.

A journey such as this is clearly challenging for any child who has just learnt to ride a cycle, but many autistic children would find this overwhelming and/or unsafe. Florence’s parent, who has two children with access needs, also described how the poor-quality infrastructure on off-road cycle paths prevented them from cycling for utility journeys.

You need some quite complex equipment, but then that means you need the infrastructure to actually take that equipment and all the off-road paths have little narrow lanes or bollards. I could see her [Florence] managing a trike or something but only if the infrastructure was safe enough and it’s so far off that it just isn’t.

The environment and infrastructure can present barriers to all cyclists, and these are exacerbated for autistic children. All parents interviewed commented on inadequate cycle paths, bollards and other barriers to off-road tracks and the lack of safety for cycling on their local roads. As Stenning et al. (2021) note, neurodivergent exclusion often emerges through environments and systems designed around implicit neurotypical expectations, a dynamic clearly reflected in mainstream cycle training and active travel provision.

Conclusions

Cycling is more than just a health-promoting physical activity: it can provide essential mobility, and cycling is increasingly promoted in the UK both as a response to climate change and as a public health intervention. However, many autistic children are excluded from cycling, especially for active travel, because of provision which is centred on standard bicycles and neurotypical learning trajectories. The aim of this study was to identify the challenges and barriers that autistic children experience whilst learning to cycle. Interviewees reported that autistic children often found it difficult to balance a standard bike and to navigate some of the essential controls, including in the correct order, such as pedalling, steering, braking and changing gears. Some of the autistic children struggled with spatial awareness and/or the social aspects of cycling, making it harder for them to navigate their surroundings while riding a bike. Moreover, there are social, financial, environmental, security/storage and infrastructure challenges that create additional barriers for a young autistic person learning how to cycle using a non-standard cycle.

However, the research also identified several strategies that can help autistic children learn to cycle. These include access to non-standard cycles and/or adaptations such as training wheels or features to assist with sensory needs, in combination with specialist training. These provisions can mitigate the need for balance (such as a trike), correct braking or road awareness (a tandem), and help autistic children build confidence and develop the skills needed to cycle. However, non-standard cycles tend to be heavy, costly and not accessible outside of specialist provision, for example, at an event in an enclosed environment.

As such, a key emerging theme from the research suggests that whilst there are opportunities for some autistic children to learn how to physically cycle throughout the UK – for example, with a non-standard cycle – this does not mean that the child can engage with cycling in their day-to-day life for utility journeys and as a result may not benefit from the mental and physical health benefits that cycling offers. This means they are also excluded from climate mitigation interventions.

Accessing an appropriate cycle and learning to ride is just the first stage of the journey towards independent and/or utility cycling. Cycle infrastructure and cultural or attitudinal barriers still need to be addressed. Beyond that, road safety would be the remaining challenge for an autistic child to achieve independence as a cyclist.

It is also important to acknowledge that this paper does not advocate cycling as a normative expectation for autistic children. As disability scholars have argued, mobility itself can become a site of normative expectation, where particular forms of movement and embodiment are privileged over others (Inckle 2019; Kumari Campbell 2009; McLaughlin and Coleman-Fountain 2014; Oliver 1993). Our findings instead support the principle of meaningful choice. Many participants described children who wished to cycle but were excluded by inaccessible equipment, environments and training. Equally, some children expressed little interest in cycling or preferred alternative forms of mobility. The issue is not that every autistic child should cycle, but that every autistic child should have equitable access to the forms of mobility that best meet their needs, preferences and aspirations, including cycling for active travel.

In conclusion, learning to cycle is an important part of participating in health-promoting and climate change-mitigating activities. The barriers that autistic children face to cycling for utility journeys should be understood through a disability rights lens: not as personal limitations, but as structural exclusions in the context of the right to mobility enshrined in the UNCRPD, and eco-ableism in active travel policy and provision. Neurodiversity, when framed as a natural and valuable aspect of human variation, requires that we rethink our approaches to physical activity, learning methods and mobility infrastructure. Specialist provision of cycles and inclusive training are not optional extras; they are essential interventions in a world not yet designed for neurodivergent bodies and minds.