Summer has been and gone, and I hardly
noticed it. The weather has been a bit rubbish - while last year's
summer was accompanied by the smell of industrial strength sun cream,
this year the top hasn't been off the bottle at all.
Last year I was able to string several
consecutive days of rides together, but this year they have been very
fragmented indeed due to my usual afflictions and/or that weather.
The latest gap in riding action came
courtesy of my back, after a trip into town on Friday left it feeling
stiff and painful. Not such a disaster if the weather is manky and
miserable, but the weekend was a good'un weather wise, as was Monday,
and that is just plain frustrating.
But by Monday evening my back was
easing up, and plans were quickly made for a bit of a bimble, and so
it was that on Tuesday moring I sallied forth to ride a loop of
quiet lanes, a short rural footpath (ssshhh...), Byways and
Bridleways.
One reason I prefer riding alone is I
can do whatever I like, and with photographs very much in mind, that
is important, and I'd hardly got into my stride before throwing out
the anchors and making a 'uey' to go back and have another look at
the view through a gateway I'd just passed. I do this a lot while out
riding, not always profitably, but on this occasion my smoking brakes
and abrupt u-turn proved worthwhile as the weak early morning
sunshine lit up distant trees and shone down through the gate
illuminating the mud and puddles surrounding the now photogenically
placed bike. Barely a mile in, and with a yard of photos of a
cracking rural feel good moment already in the bag, I just knew it
was going to be an enjoyable ride.
Not even ten minutes into the ride and I'm already stopped and taking photos.
The sun was in and out the whole
morning, usually hiding behind a cloud whenever a camera appeared of
course, but the lanes were warm and the air quiet, if a little
smelly. A farm yard I passed through was advertising home made
looking bags of 'quality fertiliser', a euphemism I imagine for the
sh*t left over from being spread all over the fields. My dear life
the air was humming, and with a nose as big as mine that can be a
problem, I take in more square feet of whiff than most folk, but
still, rather that than the smell of petrol and diesel fumes, or a
fellow commuters armpit. The smells of the countryside, even several
acres of freshly sprayed poop, trump the smells of 'civilisation'
every time.
Easywheeling along the lanes.
Old lane leading to Zelah now stops at a kissing gate following the re-routing of the main A30, and continues again on the other side of the main road, but is now downgraded to footpath or 'other public access' status.
The ride took me through Zelah, then
Little Callestock and onto the byway leading towards the old West
Wheal Chiverton lead and zinc mine. A route probably used the miners
on their daily trudge to and from work, but now utilised by farm
vehicles, and we 'leisure users' on foot, horseback and bike. Out in
the open the surface was fine, but under tree cover it was still very
wet and muddy, and I resigned myself to losing the clean as a new pin
bike I'd set out on.
Passing the old engine house the
landscape opens up and affords some striking views to the west from
the byway, but you have to strain to see them over the hedge, but
it's worth the effort.
From there it was a short hop along a
country lane before arriving at what I think of as the 'Hole in the
hedge' bridleway. There are no signs indicating the presence of this
right of way, but it is on various maps, and in a handy booklet of
off road bike rides to be had in the area. But if you didn't know it
was there, you'd easily miss the entrance as it is just a gap in the
trees and bushes that line the road, much like the sort of gap left
by a Saturday night hatchback crash.
'Hole in the hedge' bridleway entrance.
This bridleway though, is a real
favourite of mine. That lack of advertising and its miles from
anywhere location mean it is a quiet and secluded ride along the
narrow path through the trees, punctuated in the middle by a small
clearing where I always enjoy a bit of a pause to take in the
solitude, peace and quiet.
A nice spot to linger and take in the peaceful surroundings.
Byway towards Wheal Frances.
Carrying on, bridleway became byway as
I headed past the hamlets of Wheal Frances and Carnkief and into
Goonhavern.
Carnkief byway.
A few hundred yards up the main road towards Newquay then
see a turning to the right and another byway that becomes a
bridleway, then a byway again. The first bit of byway is notable as
it always includes a little water sport. It floods, even in a drought
there would be a boggy lagoon to traverse and yesterday wasn't going
to be any different, given the rain we've had lately. I have walked
along the side of the puddle before, treading in the bushes to the
side while wheeling the bike through the stagnant water, but I
engaged bravery mode and decided yesterday to ride through it, as it
really isn't that big a deal and I'm a rufty tufty mountain biker
after all.
Pah! Easy...
Riding through was a good move too, as I made it to dry ground on the
far side, but only by the skin of my teeth. About half way in and
going well, the front wheel ran aground on some submerged obstacle
and suddenly lurched to the left. I was in danger of being toppled
off balance and therefore either being launched into the brambly and
bushy scenery beside the track, or having to hastily put a foot down
through the water into the clawing mud to save my dignity. But
instinct kicked in with my brain calling 'power!' and an emergency
heft on the pedals saw me just catch my balance and maintain forward
momentum. Shipwreck was thankfully avoided.
Disaster was narrowly averted by a desperate lunge on the pedals...
Earlier bridleways had been easy
riding, but this one, while still firm and flat beneath the wheels,
is made more difficult by the overhanging vegetation, brambles
mostly. It all gets a bit Indiana Jones hacking through the jungle
along there but, dodgy back withstanding, it is all good fun.
Emerging from this section and pulling various bits of foliage from
bike and body as I rode past I surprised an elderly gent tending his
hedge as the path switched back to byway status once again. I gave
the chap a hearty 'mornin' as I passed but judging by his rather
bemused facial expression I imagine he doesn't see many people, let
alone anyone on a bike, come busting out of the undergrowth like
that.
Final bit of bridleway for the day was a bit overgrown further on.
From there it was a mix of byway,
B-road and country lane back to base. The weather had been good, the
riding relaxing and enjoyable, and most importantly, my back held up
and all the frustrations of the previous few days had been well and
truly banished. Maybe I need time away from the bikes now and then
just to appreciate what they have to offer all the more when I do get
out on them.
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