A Quick Photographic Look Back At 2015.

2016 is almost here, and although I don't usually do New Year's Resolutions, I've got to try and improve things health wise and sort my life out. That's the main task, but also I want to take better and more interesting photos, make better and more interesting blog posts, and ride more often and get further from home too, I need to explore new places on the bikes!

2015 was the usual blend of ups and downs, but I'll stick with a couple of the highlights, which included listening to a Woodpecker getting busy while holding a steaming coffee in my hand beside the river near Tresillian, early one misty morning, and watching some Kingfishers darting about a bit further along on the same day. There was the arrival just a couple of weeks ago of the Fat Bike too, but let's have a completely random and self indulgent mooch through a few photos and have a quick look back at 2015. This isn't a comprehensive account by any means, nor are the photos in any particular order date wise, just a hotch potch selection.

Early February was a bit chilly. The second of Feb shown here, had seen frequent hail showers coupled with freezing temperatures to leave the lanes a bit sketchy and my backside a bit twitchy, as things were a bit slippery in places. Riding through the puddles and listening to the ice crunching was good fun though. But better was to come the very next morning...

Snow! Well, a little bit of snow, but we don't see much of it down here so even a light dusting is enough to get excited about (and bring the county to a halt...). This was taken approaching the Five Turnings junction about a mile and a half from home, and I'd already had an unplanned Break Dancing episode by this point involving descending the hill out of the village and some injudicious application of the brakes. Thankfully it was to be the only 'off' of this little ride.

My feet were colder than the socks on an Eskimo's washing line but I wasn't going to miss the opportunity for some wintery looking photos. Fingers crossed we get some more snow in the next couple of months!

January had seen the first of many trips into Idless Woods (above two shots) and throughout the year...

... mud and puddles were to be an ever present feature in parts of these woods, as above in March...

....and again, in July (above). 

It wasn't all splashing and slithering about in these woods though, as I found a previously undiscovered by me path that I first thought might have been an old stream or river bed, but is more likely to have been an old Drover's path. It runs pretty much straight its entire length and down hill too, so makes for a pretty good 'chute' to ride down (above).

Idless Woods are a good place to find Bluebells too (above)...

... as is this rural footpath.

That footpath is a little secluded delight that unfortunately peters out as it has become heavily overgrown, but it's still worth a ride along now and then (above and below)...

... but is best avoided during the shooting season as Pheasants are released on one side of the path, while the shooters line up on the other. Somewhat less than ideal for a quiet potter then.

I did explore a couple of new to me Bridleways in 2015, this one going from the Truck Fork junction and up to the back of Probus village (above and below) was a good find...

As was this section of path leading up to the old West Wheal Chiverton Mine (below)

This way to the mine beats this path below...

which is inclined to get a little muddy.

What else? Ah yes, May saw a trip to Holywell Bay to go and see the sea.

Pushing the Jamis through the soft sand dunes was hard work. Guess where I've got a trip planned for the Fatty in 2016?

Getting to Holywell meant riding through Cubert which boasts a very well appointed bus stop...

See what I mean? There's a choice of fair or foul weather waiting, there's plenty to read at the information hub and it is connected to the world at large as well via the communication centre (phone box). If all that isn't enough, there's en suite refreshment available too. This place has everything.

A very worthwhile addition to my riding kit was a Mini Trangia stove and kettle. I don't carry it on every ride, but it gives me an excuse, or a reason, to get out early and have my first cup of the day somewhere pleasant and relaxing. It also makes me stop and linger awhile which makes for some good relaxation - time to dwell and listen and watch what's going on while the kettle is doing its thing. 

 March saw the demise of my Canon G11 camera. That was a bad tempered day that was! I took a photo and the lens failed to retract on switching off the camera - it became a doorstop and I was less than delighted to put it mildly.

But, that meant I needed a replacement and an opportunity for an upgrade, and I soon had a used Canon G1 X winging its way westwards.

The first ride using the G1 X (above) showed the camera to be worth every penny, with a big step up in picture quality and ease of use, but with one big drawback - the minimum focusing distance is measured in Furlongs rather than millimetres. It's utter pants at close up stuff, but that's the downside to having the large (for a 'compact' camera) sensor.

September saw another photographic arrival as after many months, nay, years, of pondering, I finally pulled the trigger on a GoPro Hero 4. I've not yet scratched the surface of what this thing can do creatively, so that's firmly on the agenda for 2016. There are only so many over the bars shots like the one above, I can stomach.

What else? Ah yes, June saw a bit of a trip down to Coombe and Cowlands.

A good ride that, somewhere I hadn't ridden before and beautiful weather for it.

So good was the weather that my trusty Baseball Hat proved inadequate and so...

I obtained a rather less than fetching sun hat to keep my ears and neck from burning. 

I'm a scruffy Herbert though whatever I wear.

Another place I returned to a couple of times was Newlyn Downs.

This is a public access area in and around the Carland Cross wind farm, and is also the site of an old lead mine. The streams here are tributaries of the River Gannel and run red with the rusty iron deposits of the mining spoils. It is also an area of Special Scientific Interest due to its areas of wet heathland. 

I don't know about the wet heathland areas at all, but it is also thick with Gorse which makes for some vibrant colour on a bleak landscape.

But Newlyn Downs also offers some quality off road pottering, with the constant backdrop (and whooshing noise if it's windy) of those big fan things. (I don't buy this idea of generating electricity, I think they're huge fans pointing against the prevailing winds to straighten the trees up...)

Looking back, there didn't seem to be much of a convincing summer to enjoy. There never seemed to be a run of good days, just a sunny day, followed by an overcast one, then a flipping wet one.

This shot above was taken in May, and the weather was distinctly cold and although dry, was just grey and bland. This was on the old A30 at Gossmoor, a well known traffic bottleneck on the journey in or out of the county. At the far end of the moor was the infamous railway bridge, that regularly saw the undoing (literally in some cases as HGV trailers got peeled open under it) of many a high vehicle, leading to even more traffic chaos. Thankfully, eventually, at flipping last... the road was by-passed, and the old route is now a peaceful multi use trail.

 But, still, there some, occasional, summery days.

So weatherwise it was a bit disappointing. Despite clocking up exactly 100 rides for the year, it also felt like I didn't get out as often as I'd intended, nor did I get as far from home to new places as I'd have liked. And that is about it for a quick (?) look through my photos. I took a ton more of course, and have probably missed out some things that were a lot more interesting, as this all looks and sounds pretty uneventful (dull/boring) but still, there were some positives to be had, and hopefully many more to come in 2016.

Happy New Year!

A Century of Rides.

So Christmas has been and gone, but we're still in Crimbo Limbo, or Twixtmas as I think it is actually called – the odd period between Christmas and the New Year. Nobody ever seems to quite know what to do with themselves at Twixtmas. Some are working, others not. The transport networks seem undecided as to what level of service to operate and the TV schedules are all to cock too. You switch on the magic lantern expecting to see the news and find talking cartoon animals instead. There seems to be a mood among most folk that they feel that something should be happening, that they should be doing something, but don't know quite what.

I did have one mission to complete though before 2016 starts – I needed one more ride to hit the century for rides this year, and with the forecast looking good ahead of yesterday, I knew I had to get out on a bike, even if it was only up the road and back. Besides, I've got large quantities of Sausage Rolls, Pork Pies and of course, lots of luscious Mince Pies to shift from around my waist, so burning off a few calories wouldn't go amiss either.

I don't know if it's just me, but sometimes just moving, or holding one of my bikes, stirs up so many emotions. Just looking at a bike seldom does it, it seems to have to involve the laying on of hands, but thinking about it, when riding, a bike is in the hands all the time, hopefully. But it's when you take hold of a bike and move it that it comes, well, alive. My word that sounds like arty farty romantic twaddle, (just what exactly, was in those Mince Pies?) but that's how it feels.

Monday afternoon saw me going into the shed for something, can't remember what now, and having to move the Jamis out of the way. Ah yes, the Jamis, the black 29er that was my first new bike in a couple of decades. Only a cheap entry level jobbie, and fitted with a lamentably poor excuse for a suspension fork, but despite the pogo stick front end, the bike rides smoothly and comfortably and most crucially, very enjoyably. But for a variety of reasons I suppose, I hadn't ridden it much this year, about 200 miles worth, that's all. So I looked it over to check everything was still tickety boo and it wasn't corroding or mice hadn't eaten the seat or anything daft. Then, satisfied all was peachy, I grabbed it to wheel it out of the way and all those thoughts and emotions were immediately triggered. Taking hold of it instantly reminded me of how it feels, how it rides and responds, the pace lurking in the big wheels and the comfort of the roomy frame. On a ride, we're either, well, riding, or handling the bike while off it, moving it about, walking it, parking it and posing it for photos and so on, so that's why I think actually holding the bike triggers the feelings I'm prattling on about, it acts as a physical reminder of good times I suppose. Memories of actual rides and places are also instantly rekindled of course, and it was quickly decided, if I was going to have my 100^th bimble of 2015, it was going to be on the Jamis.

Bike for the ride decided on, preparations made (no big dinner the night before – don't want stomach cramps on a ride, or having to jump over any hedges due to sudden bowel related urges... most undignified that would be...) it just left the weather to be as promised and my ride would be in the bag.

Yesterday morning turned out as the forecasts said it would – sunny, and still a bit windy, but it was still hard wrenching myself out of a warm bed, as it was also slightly chillier than of late.

Climbing on the Jamis again felt very weird after my three rides so far on the Fat Bike. My word those tyres looked skinny... and setting off was odd too, it all felt a bit twitchy, balancey and tall. That feeling soon fizzled out as the Jamis (I call it Battersby sometimes, after the soap character Janice Battersby...) and I got pedaling and knees hit the breeze.

I did  get slightly wet though, so it wasn't a 100% success for the forecast, but rather than the wind blown downpour I suffered on my previous ride that soaked parts of me that really shouldn't be soaked, this was just a light shower, and delightful it was too. Under trees at the time, I actually paused just to listen to the rain pitter – pattering through the leaves, just like on those relaxation videos on youtube where you can play all sorts of calming noises to yourself. It was all rather splendid to be out in the rain for a change, I must admit.

As I was fannying about taking this photo, two young women came flying down this hill on bikes. The first of many fellow cyclists I saw out and about yesterday.

The lanes of course, were still a mess, with plenty of mud and rain washed gravel to negotiate, as well as all the streams of muddy water flowing across the tarmac off the fields. But all was very peaceful and quiet, just the occasional car encountered here and there, and they were vastly outnumbered by the usual unruly and hap hazard Pheasants blundering about, and also by the Grey Squirrels I encountered. Squirrels were everywhere it seemed, darting here and there, and on one occasion, right across my front wheel. How he didn't end up getting knobblied I don't know, as I was surprised, not to mention relieved, to see him dart across to the other side of the road when I had thought he was a gonner for sure just a nano second previously.

I just love riding the lanes. Peace, tranquility and the road - all to myself. Well... and the chaotic Pheasants, and Squirrels. Lots of Squirrels.

Unusually for me, I didn't take many photos, preferring instead to just carry on plodding my way round the lanes rather than stopping every few minutes to look around for a photo opportunity as I normally do. I did take some though, obviously, so the century ride didn't go entirely unrecorded.

So that was my last ride of 2015, at least it looks that way, as I doubt I'll get out again now before the New Year starts, and a very enjoyable 15 miles of going nowhere much it turned out to be too.

Climbing the hill out of Mitchell I passed several roadies coming the other way, and all but the leader waved, smiled, nodded or shouted 'mornin!'. This was the chap running 'Lantern Rouge', or tail end Charlie, just before we exchanged waves. Despite showing a healthy (by my standards) 8 mph on the computer, I was blowing out of my ears at this point. It's not the hill you're on necessarily that is the problem, but the hills that came before it... That's my excuse anyway and I'm sticking to it! I'd just slogged my way up one hill side, and now was plodding and gasping my way straight up another, with little flat road or Jelly Babies, in between to recharge the legs and lungs.

I have to be pleased with managing 100 rides, though I still feel that I didn't get out half as much as I wanted to, or get as far from home as I planned, in 2015. But, we start again in a couple of days, so hopefully I can carry on riding in 2016 as much, and more, because it really helps with all the health crap I've got going on. Riding, photographing, and thinking about riding is what keeps me going at times, and the mental and physical benefits really do make one heck of a difference to me, so I fully intend to make the most of riding my bikes while I still can – roll on 2016, as it were!

Edit - Thanks to Dave Miles for the idea of using maps to illustrate my potterings, I have come up with this (I don't have a Smart Phone or fancy GPS type bike computer so can't do Strava).

It's not very detailed, but will give an idea. Start and finish point on the map is the financial and retailing district of Trispen (The Post Office) which is close to home but without giving it away. This ride was 15.3 miles.

Riverside Latte.

It has been a while since I last had a 'coffee ride.' The onset of winter has played a part in that to an extent, there seems less to enjoy when all around is dull, or sopping wet and tree bustingly windy. In summer, when the forecast promises a good day, it's easier to heave myself out of bed and get straight on the bike without boiling the kettle and switching on the computer first, and head off somewhere to really savour the first coffee of the day somewhere rather more invigorating than my cluttery front room.

But the forecast for yesterday looked promising and of course, I was hankering for somewhere to go on Fatty. Waking up early, while it was still dark, and feeling very heavy of head, meant I didn't sally forth immediately, but did allow myself to be distracted by the lure of the internet and the 'quick look to see what's going on', but I also did manage some discipline for once and didn't surf for long, and I soon set sail for my favourite brewing up spot, beside the tidal Tresillian River about 5 miles away.

 Cheapo handlebar bag contains the Mini Trangia stove, mug and other bits and bobs for brewing up. Kettle goes in my rucksack though.

Obligatory sunlight and shade bridge shot below the Paddington to Penzance main line.

For only the second time this winter the air was slightly chilly, while this time last year I was well into winter glove and woolly hat territory. Tarmac is not a fat bike's preferred habitat, but Fatty is still fun to ride on any surface it seems, and once again I was enjoying the solid feeling ride as I bombed down the hill out of the village, the fat tyres skimming over the broken road surface and isolating me from the hammer drilling I usually get going quickly down there. Instead you get the bumps muffled – you still feel them, but far, far, softer. I shudder to think what riding a road bike on some of the lanes I inhabit would be like, so take my hat off to the folk I see doing just that.

Those fat tyres might hinder initial acceleration, but once going their weight and 29er matching overall size means they carry a lot of momentum, and barreling along on the flat main road through the strung out Tresillian village I held a higher cruising speed than I usually do on my other 26” wheeled bikes in return for less frantic pedaling. I thought Fatty on tarmac would give me a good workout everywhere, not quite so it seems.

I expected the riverside path to be a little wet and muddy, but was surprised to find it was really mudorrific in places, but what the hell, the bike was already mucky before I set off... Chaaaarge! Bombing along the rough path was immense fun, ploughing through the mud and puddles, absorbing the holes and bumps that jar my other bikes, even with their bouncy forks. Mud was flying everywhere, and the bike, and I, were getting utterly blathered, but boy was it fun. I passed a chap coming the other way on a full susser - going like hell he was, and he had a big grin on his mud splattered face too. Seems we were both enjoying the simple pleasure of bombing through the muck and puddles, and why not?

Great fun, and judging by the tracks, and another cyclist I encountered, I wasn't the only one enjoying the conditions.

For my morning caffeine intake I decided to head for my favourite spot along here, just off the main track and down onto a sort of beach almost, beside the water's edge. Well, yesterday, at that time, it was beside the mud's edge as the tide was well out. But I was soon parked up and with the stove doing its thing. Beverage for the day was a sachet of milky Latte, one from a box of 12 picked up from Poundland, and really rather splendid it was too, very tasty.

 On leaving, I rode Fatty into the mud over where those piles of sea weed are, without any drama at all. These things really do cope well with all sorts of conditions.

Ah... a steaming mug of tasty coffee in pleasant and quiet  surroundings - indulgent bliss.

Apart from a few birds making some noise (I've no idea what they were, I'm not up on my birds at all, I'm alright with Swans though, but that's about it... ) and the odd dog walker passing on the path behind, all was peaceful, which is what it's all about. Time to just sit and savour the moment.

Eventually though, I decided to ride on, and rather bravely (or maybe that should be foolishly because there was plenty of scope for minor disaster) I rode into the wet mud to really give Fatty a test. Not too far out into the mud mind you, that'd be silly, but I went where I probably couldn't walk without sinking up to my ankles at least. It was a breeze... there was a fair bit of wheel spin but as long as I kept pedaling at a steady pace, so Fatty kept driving forwards through the sucking, squelching, gloop. The traction from those tyres and their disliking for sinking into soft stuff is deeply impressive.

Fatty tyre tracks and some sea weed. Not the really gooeysome mud I later rode into though.

Back on the path and I went the full length to the small village of St Clement, before turning round and heading back the way I'd come, passing more and more dog and offspring walkers along the way (“Look at the size of that” and “Did you see those wheels...”) as by now it was late morning and more folk were out and about. 

GoPro on a selfie stick held above my head makes for a better, if slightly distorted, view. Tresemple Pond on the left, the tidal Tresillian River on the right.

Heading back the way I'd come out of St Clement. 

 With a fat bike you soon find that mud gets onto all sorts of odd places. It has splattered the uppermost surfaces of the frame and even got onto the computer. A Crudcatcher guard on the down tube is the next addition I think.

Back past Tesemple Pond, a spot where earlier in the year I spent a short while watching some Kingfishers going about their business. (A bird watcher told me they were Kingfishers anyway...)

Another bozz along the road through Tresillian was enjoyed before hitting the back lanes again and the task of winching my way up some real bad ass hills. That's the drawback of this little journey, heading home means climbing some rather steep bits, but still, no heroics, just get into the granny gear early and take my time. Sure enough, the hills that I used to walk up were ridden with relative ease and only mild gasping and panting.

Back on tarmac with one very mucky Fatty.

But, as I rode on, the sky started to appear rather moody looking ahead. Hmmmm... No worries I thought, it'll only be a shower probably, if anything. It battered it down. Only for about 15 minutes, but I got a proper soaking as the wind also got up and drove the rain into my face, (and left ear... Argghhh I hate that!) stinging as it hit, then dribbling into places I'd really rather stayed dry.

 That sky looked filled with foreboding and I was heading towards it up the lane on the right.

 Nah, it'll be alright...

Ok, I'm getting really wet now... I'm starting to feel damp soaking into my... oh that's not nice...

So it was a very wet, muddy and generally bedraggled me that arrived home, but before I enjoyed the delight of a hot shower, I decided to give Fatty his first, but much needed, wash.

All in all though, the rain failed to dampen my spirits and I thoroughly enjoyed the ride, which also happened to be my 99^th of this year. I can't let 2016 arrive one short of the ton, so with a few days yet, no doubt I'll be out again soon enough.