Bar ends. At one time every mountain
bike worth its knobblies sported a pair of bar ends, they were one of
the 'must have' accessories to fit to your bike as soon as you got it
out of the shop. Now though, they seem rare on newish bikes out in the wild,
and if you do some Googlery you will find they are terminally out of fashion - mountain bikes version of the Mullet no less. Not only that, but they look a bit odd with riser
bars, look entirely wrong with wide bars, hook up on every passing
branch, and fetch you an unfortunate one in the family jewels should
you crash. That's what a quick mooch around the forums will tell you anyway.
But who cares what fashion or forumeers say, especially when it comes to
something functional rather than aesthetic.
I've got bar ends on all my bikes, but
due to bank balance traumas, I didn't fit them to Fatso immediately,
and boy did I miss them when climbing hills. I had also decided that
money spent on mudguards was a higher priority, given how
enthusiastically fat bike tyres lob mud around. But now at last happy hill
climbing is restored, as I got some bar ends for Fatso this week, and
knickers to the fashionistas!
But I don't get why bar ends are out of
favour anyway.Turning my wrists ninety degrees when climbing or just
ploughing along on the flat, feels right somehow, and of course you
can pull back slightly on the bar ends and really put your back into
powering forwards when climbing too. They offer an alternative hand
position, and when bozzing along on the flat or dropping like a bomb
down hill, you can tuck your elbows in – more aero!
Lastly, where else can you hang your
hat or helmet when climbing a long piece of bad ass geography on a
hot day? Eh? Case proven I think!
Bar ends provide a handy place to hang your hat whilst riding, or your shopping perhaps.
New bar ends installed on Fatso, and already mucky and slightly scuffed. These come without bar plugs, so I had to re - use the much sullied On One jobbies.
Anyway, I had decided that I needed to ride my other bikes and leave Fatso behind more, but well, having fitted the bar ends, well they needed proper road testing, didn't they...
The weather forecast for Thursday night
and into Friday morning looked promising. Heavy overnight rain and
battersome wind giving way around 10am to clear skies and bright
sunshine, with the winds easing through the day. So I made the
necessary plans to get out come Friday morning and get my knees in
the breeze.
It's seemingly not often I say this,
but by golly Holly (one of our local weather girls) got it spot on!
Half past nine all was wet, windy, and full of weather wretchedness.
By ten o'clock though, blue skies were to be seen out one side of the
house, and the sun was breaking through – Bimbles are go!
Out and about in the countryside there
was a definite feeling of 'just after what went before', as all
around everything seemed to be brightening and warming up, while
water could be seen trickling down hills, heard gurgling into drains
and culverts, and felt dripping off trees. As usual, the rain left
its mark in Tregassow Lane, in the form of a pop up lake or two, but
I haven't seen these two stretches that frequently flood, so long or
deep in water before. I've taken endless splashy photos in these wet patches
in the past, so didn't bother this time, and Fatso and I just waded
through, with the water level reaching just above the lowest height
of the pedals. Even riding slowly, a fat bike makes quite some bow
wave, so the surf was definitely up as I rode through.
The only thing to be heard on this part of Tregassow Lane was drips from the trees landing in the bushes, and water gurgling and trickling down the hill.
The wind was still blustery and fresh,
but was at least a friendly blow – a westerly wind, and therefore
warmish, unlike the away team winds that blow from the north or east
– flipping cold beggars they are, I don't like them at all!
There was no destination in mind for
this ride, it was to be a rumble around whatever loop I felt like as
the ride progressed, along lanes into which I think I've probably
worn a groove. Lanes I've ridden countless times before, but still
provide ample peace and quiet, and just the pleasure of being out on
a bike in the countryside.
Fatso bothering a fence post by what I know as Four Turnings Junction.
I did encounter one potential spot of
bother though. Heading towards the hamlet of Boswiddle I found the
lane completely filled with parked drop sides, and the noise of some
busy work going on somewhere in amongst them. I was beginning to
regret that extra mince pie I had at Christmas as I squeezed past the
first truck and emerged to surprise the chaps patching the road
surface behind it. A good bunch they were though, and after some
brief banter one of them decided to save me squeezing past the second
truck and backed it up for me, much to my relief, as the roadside
bushes had proved quite strong and springy when trying to barge past
the first wagon.
Hmmmm... Looks a bit tight, but doable...
Yup, it's snug alright. Now what was that about bar ends catching in bushes and trees?
Emerging from up the side of the truck and generator trailer I found the source of all the noise - Some jolly chaps patching the road.
I turned left in Boswiddle and ground
my way up the steep hill out of the hamlet, glad I'd finally fitted
some bar ends as they really do make climbing easier, and this hill
is just the starter on this particular lane, the warm up act if you
like, the main course of a properly steep and long beggar lies a mile
or two further on.
Before climbing the second hill though,
I always stop at a small bridge over a stream in the valley bottom,
as it is one of 'those' places that are just so nice to linger at for
a while. Like Boswiddle Ford in the opposite direction, I don't think
I've ever ridden through without stopping and having a wander about,
a sit or a lean, a look around and a listen, even a coffee on
occasion. It's not much of a spot to look at I suppose, but it's one
of those places that feels right to me, somewhere I just like to be.
I always stop here for a good lurk. Plenty of evidence to suggest this stream was running a lot higher recently.
After that, it was all pretty
straightforward. The long slog up the following hill was achieved
quite comfortably, courtesy not just of the bar ends, but also of
Fatso's low 2 x 10 gearing, and once Carland Cross had been reached, it
just left a good old bozz along the old A39 main road – now a
bridleway, then up one last short hill and home for a bowl of bubbling and
glugging Chicken Noodle soup.
The 'old' A39, now a Bridleway, runs alongside the new stretch of road (over the hedge on the right) down the hill from Carland Cross.
There is nearly always a single piece of litter here, usually a beer or soft drinks can, but on this day, a Costa cup. Makes me wonder if it's the same person always passing on the way home or stopping for a break or something.
I might have ridden this route many,
many, times before, but I still enjoyed every minute of it once again
yesterday, which is what it's all about, and proves that you don't
have to go somewhere new every time to gain satisfaction from
a ride.
The full size map is hopefully Here
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