Yesterday's ride was produced in
association with Immodium, purveyors of fine tablet based bowel
bungs, just as part of a belt and braces approach to boost confidence
after my last ride was cut short rather prematurely, not to mention
stressfully, by some unwanted inner turbulence and stirrings.
But anyway, enough of all that, it was
another sunny morning and I needed to get out again on a bike for a
ride. I'd just given Fatso a big old clean after my trip through the
woods the other day, but the Voodoo was pre muddied so that was the
bike for the job. But where to go? I didn't have anything in mind so
just set sail and decided to find out where I was going when I got
there.
The Voodoo does have one advantage over
Fatso I've found, and that is in regard to the freehub. Coasting on
Fatso is accompanied by a noise not unlike a chainsaw, which does have its
advantages when approaching dozy pedestrians in the road or on the
paths and so on. Meanwhile the Voodoo's budget jobbie barely makes a
sound when freewheeling, which when you're drifting down a country
lane with the warming sun on your face and listening to the birds,
revelling in the peace and tranquillity of the moment, is very
welcome.
Pottering towards Ladock enjoying the fresh
morning, I soon became aware of the machine gun rattle of a
Woodpecker busy nearby. In fact, the 'pecker in question was drilling
away at a tree right beside the road, so I spent a couple of minutes
trying to look up into said tree, and getting a severe neck ache in
the process, and watch him, while marvelling at how such a small bird
can combine with a tree to make such an incredible noise. Had I been
on Fatso I reckon old Woody Woodpecker there would've beggared off
smartish on hearing me approaching, fearing a lumberjack had plotted
up intent on a bit of tree felling.
Well soon enough I found myself in
Ladock, which it must be said, isn't exactly a teeming metropolis.
There's not a whole lot going in Ladock of a Tuesday morning to delay
the happy wanderer, so after pushing the Voodoo up the footpath to
the church, I headed out of the village up a lane which joins the
road from Grampound Road to Fraddon. Neither of those villages
tickled my fancy much either, they're a funny lot in Grampound Road and in Fraddon they're just plain odd, but a plan was soon hatched to get a bit of
off roading in and head back in a loop by using a Bridleway and a
Byway I know of.
Downtown Ladock.
Up the footpath from the middle of Ladock are the remains of an old cottage, with these Campion growing outside.
Either that was one hell of a blow out or the farmer has cut his old tractor tyre in half, possibly to use as a water trough or a feeder.
The first Bridleway (point 7 on the
map) is a peach. It passes Great Hewas Farm and also several houses,
indeed I passed a couple of cars as I made my way down it, so is in
pretty good nick surface wise. It is also lined with Daffodils so is
all rather pleasant it must be said. Not so good though, at least at
first, is the concrete surface. In some sections, it has had some
diagonal wavy grooves tamped into the surface and the initial
reaction on encountering these is to think the wheels have suddenly
come loose. Look up 'Squirrely' in the cyclist's dictionary and it'll
probably say 'see Great Hewas Bridleway...' maybe. Whatever, it feels
like the back wheel is no longer related to the front and has gone
freelance, making its own way up the lane. Once the initial alarm
subsides though, it's quite good fun bombing along with the bike squirming
about beneath you, yet still heading straight ahead, mostly.
One of my favourite signs...
The start of the Bridleway and very inviting it is too.
Oh joy... More blurry photo uploads...
Great Hewas Bridleway has open stretches, and more sheltered parts, and I have another fuzzy upload... grrrr....
Whilst hardly challenging riding, nor
particularly remote from other people, it's still an enjoyable little
jaunt. Less so is the short dodge along the B3275 Ladock main road,
which is a bit twisty and so likely to see you with an artic
breathing down your neck if you're unlucky. Being unlucky, and seeing
another Bridleway signposted on the left, I took the opportunity to
get out of the trucker's way and have a quick poke of my nose up this
path too, which I'm yet to explore. I hadn't gone far before I found
a chap in thje middle of the path with binoculars watching some avian
unruliness going on in the adjacent tree tops. Once again I was
straining my neck and back trying to look up as the chap explained
there was a Buzzard trying to see off some Rooks or Ravens in an
aerial battle for nesting territory. Sure enough, it was all kicking
off up there, as the Buzzard swooped majestically about, dive bombing
the Corvids who in turn tried to give chase, accompanied by what must
in the bird world be some pretty strong language. I couldn't watch
for long unfortunately, so bid the chap goodbye and headed back to,
and across, the main road once again, to the Byway I'd planned to use
to head me back in the vague direction of home turf (point 8 on the
map from the B3275 up to the T junction).
Where the Byway starts to open up a bit after the overgrown entrance. It doesn't look bad, but it was pretty muddy and wheelspin became an issue several times, making for an abrupt halt and prang saving dab.
Now this track is a Byway, and so
technically legally accessible to motor vehicles, but rather than
legally, the key word there is technically, 'cos the going up this
track is very technical. Rough as a Badger's backside is another
description perhaps, as it's narrow, stony, rutted and rooty. Oh and muddy.
Lots of mud. I was certainly missing Fatso now, as the fat bike
would've blitzed this terrain, even with old clueless here in the
saddle, but on the Voodoo I struggled a lot. This I must point out is
operator failure and not the fault of the bike, which would be fine
with lower tyre pressures and a more skilled and able bodied pilot at
the helm. But after romping through or over anything in my path in
the woods the other day on Fatso, I was a bit miffed to be struggling so
badly on the Bantu.
The start of this track also feels
positively tropical. The previous Bridleway was all wide open to the
sky and countryside, this Byway though feels very jungle like as the
long and straggly vegetation hems you in, and running water babbles
all around as a couple of streams pass beneath, or across, the track
on their way to joining a small river on the other side. It felt
humid with just the warm spring sun , in summer it feels really
rainforest like. Sort of.
Hoi! Flipping Biggles... Will you please stop dicking about and beggar off?!
This thing was doing laps over my head all morning, or so it seemed, and it even made the local paper's online pages. It's a Boeing E-3 Sentry AWACS jobbie, with a rotating radar wotsname on the back. Couldn't have been working though, or their sat nav was frozen or something, as I think they were lost and flying around looking for something they recognised...
Now apart from bird related noises,
this ride also featured other airborne audio assaults mostly in the
form of a flipping air force jet with the steering lock stuck on or
something, doing left wise circles over my head all morning. But at
the top of this Byway it is the demented Wasp sound of radio
controlled model planes that assaults the ears, as close by is the
field the local RC club use and on a sunny day like yesterday, it's
like Gatwick on a summer Saturday up there for take offs and
landings, and planes buzzing about all over the shop.
Getting to the top of the Byway and alongside Ladock airfield. It wasn't just big beggars buzzing me yesterday, but model planes as well.
But, turning left at the end of the
Byway took me away from the model planes, into the hamlet of Trendeal
and then the lane towards Trelassick. It was on this latter section, that passes through Duchy of Cornwall owned woodland, that I heard
some heavy metal clanking ahead. Getting closer revealed the source
of the noise, and the smell that wafted towards me – a steam
roller, presumably out for a pre show season shake down and all but
filling the lane. Add the smell of steam, oil and grease to the smell
of the freshly cut timber in the woods and my nose was getting a very real
treat indeed.
Mmmmm... Jelly Babies - fuel of champions.
A 'quick' spin up the road to check all is well after winter hibernation. Flipping fuzzy uploads are getting on my pip now...
From there it was just a case of which
way to head home, and I elected to head up to Carland Cross and have
a good hoon down the old A39 bridleway.
So, a good old ride around on a sunny
morning and it did me the world of good again. I still enjoy riding
the Voodoo, as I do the Jamis (although the Carrera has fallen by the
wayside) even though Fatso is an absolute hoot, and comfy with it.
But they all have their own feel and it's good fun riding them all.
As usual, the full sized map and other info can be found Here
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