Another Visit To Newlyn Downs.

It was a crackingly crisp and sunny morning yesterday as I pointed Fatso's considerable front tyre in a northerly direction, intent on having some off road fun. Clear blue skies and bright sunshine were very welcome after the rain and wind that has been the default weather of the winter so far, even if strobing in my right eye was a bit of a nuisance riding along the tree lined part of the old A39.

 On the Bridleway that is the old A39 approaching Carland Cross. The new A39 is just over the fence, while my destination is just beyond the wind turbine just visible in the white of the cloud in the background. Getting there though means riding a fair bit further than a crow could fly it.

The Bridleway narrows slightly towards the end, but is still wide enough to allow farm vehicle access, hence the tyre tracks.

Destination for the day's manoeuvres was to be Newlyn Downs, a Site of Special Scientific Interest covering some 286 acres in total, and also the site of the old Cargoll lead, copper and silver mine. It is also the site of Carland Cross wind farm, and a good place for a bit of off road bicyclised bimbling, although the legality of that is a little open to question. Newlyn Downs is open access land, but all sorts of farm vehicles access it, they even hold Motor Cross events on it, so I'll plead ignorance and continue my potterings until someone in authority tells me to sling my hook. So far, everyone I've met, including the farmer's wife tending the cattle that roam the place, have been fine with me being there.

But I wasn't there yet anyway, as getting there by road means taking the long way round. Carland Cross is but a shotgun blast or two from my home, and the Downs just over the hill top, so not actually far, but there is no longer public access from my side of the A30, so I go all the way up to Carland Cross, then head back away from it again, then down into Mitchell before heading along the St Newlyn East road to access the Downs from the other side. Phew. But still, it's a pleasant enough ride on a nice morning, and all good exercise.

The Eastern end of Mitchell.

Mitchell is a fine example of a village rejuvenated by the re-routing of a main road, in this case the very busy A30. At one time villagers could barely stick their heads out of the upstairs windows for fear of losing them on a passing Scania's wing mirror, and all the houses were covered in traffic grime from the constant heavy flow of traffic through the village. Now though, all is quiet, flowers grow in beds, window boxes and on the verges, and the houses and pub look clean and tidy rather than sooty and wet weather spray splattered.

A short ride along the swooping lane later found me following the footpath ahem... following the muddy path out from under tree cover and onto the Downs. The whole area is made up of the ancient paths and giant spoil heaps of the old mining site, and now dominated by the seemingly random sprinkling of rather large wind turbines about the area. In places the land is permanently water logged and marshy, while various streams run red from the iron deposits in the soil. There are also quite a few capped mine shafts to be found, but even so, however cold you may be, this is not a place to stamp your feet. Cornish folk learned long ago to rub their hands together to keep warm in old mining areas, such is the honeycomb of unmapped tunnels beneath the surface, and the frequency of collapses.

Crack on! If it wasn't for all the mudguards on Fatso, I'd have ended up wearing most of this slop.

Unlike some old mining sites, there are unfortunately no ruins of old engine houses or ancillary buildings to be found, just a few circles of low and crumbling brickwork where there were once shafts or chimneys. The Cargoll Mine produced lead, copper and silver and below ground workings ceased in 1870, although existing stock piles and burrows continued to be worked for a few years after.

One of the few remnants of the mine infrastructure to be seen.

Other signs of the history of the site are the shaft cappings to be found in various places.

 Some of the single track is fast going...

Some of it slow, steep and stony.

 Despite there being two pipes to assist water beneath the track, the river here has washed away the surface since my last visit and attempts to repair it, probably by the local farmer, need further work.

 At one point, a misty rain fell despite the sun shining brightly, and everything went a weird colour briefly.

The turbines dominate the landscape here, and on breezy days make quite a noise too, but yesterday they weren't generating enough power to heat a teaspoon of water. More odd lighting as the sun went in and out and light rain fell.

Now the site offers narrow stony single tracks through shoulder high Gorse bushes and vast open spaces that could pass for the surface of some strange planet in an episode of Doctor Who. Nice on a sunny day, pretty bleak and hostile at other times. I've been here several times before and haven't yet explored half the site, but it's always good to leave something for a later visit...

After a good old potter about and the taking of a few 'selfies', I decided to head home via St Newlyn East rather than back the way I'd come. This is a pleasant little village, dominated in the centre by the church, and only slightly sullied by boxy and bland new build houses. The village also lies about four miles from Newquay, which is about as close to Newquay as I like to get, my jabs not being up to date n' all, so care must be taken to avoid taking the wrong road and ending up in the dratted place by accident. That wouldn't do at all. 

 One side of a long removed bridge that carried the Truro and Newquay Railway. Opened in 1905, the line even once boasted a through service to London, but closed in 1963.

 Just beside the remains of the bridge stands this cracking old shed.

 Fancyish looking facade no doubt instills pride in the band as members arrive for practice rather than just having a door into the plain building it actually is behind.

St Newlyn East Church, getting on for lunchtime too.

Whilst I was knocking about in the village, I thought I'd go and have another look at the Preaching Pit that is a bit of a well kept secret unless you do your homework before visiting. Passing by on the road all the traveller would see is a fancy iron gate in a big hedge, but inside is a terraced circular pit and platform where preachers once did their stuff.

The pit was originally a stone quarry that fell into disuse during the 1840s. It had also been the scene of cock fighting and wrestling, and preachers had used it as it offered shelter from the elements in bad weather.

One of a few Preaching Pits to be found round these parts.

In 1846 though, the nearby East Wheal Rose mine suffered a disaster when during a heavy thunderstorm, the mine flooded, killing 39 miners. It was decided to convert the old quarry into a proper preaching pit as a memorial to those who died, and the pit was properly terraced, and in 1852, a tea hut built beside the entrance. The site was restored in 2003 and is in use for various village functions once again.

From there, it was a pleasant potter along the lanes, a quick dodge across the A30, more lanes and home for a late lunch. A very pleasant morning's ride then – I just need to give Fatso a good wash now as he is rather blathered again, but there we go, all part of the fun I suppose.

Now this here map won't let me fill in all the riding around on the Downs I did, but the entrance is roughly at point number six on the map, with the site lying in the centre of the triangle formed by my ride and the A30. 

The full sized map is Here but the mileage shown is short, again thanks to not recognising the off roady bits. I actually clocked 17 miles for the whole ride.