So I was back to machine gunning pain killers down my Gullet and trying to relax the muscles in my back as much as I could.
Thankfully I achieved quite a rapid recovery this time, and on Thursday, in association with both Ibuprofen and Immodium, I was able to get out for some riding therapy.
This being early in the ride and also at the bottom of the breathless plunge to Trevella Stream, I was a tad cold at this point, but it's easy to see to what a beautiful day it was out and about on Thursday.
It was a beautiful morning too - still as a post, and with barely a cloud to be seen, sunny. Given the overnight frost that was still evident in the shadows, it was also nose drippingly cold, but apart from that, ideal weather for bike bimbling.
A lot of my local rides involve heading off along the flat of Tregassow Lane, and such level geography means I normally build up some heat as I pedal along, but on this day I hung a left at the junction by the village school and made the long drop down to Trevella Stream instead, and that piercingly chilly descent had me wondering if I should've donned an extra layer before heading out, or even if I should return home to get one. But I bravely/recklessly decided to carry on and indeed the climb up the other side of the valley to Five Turnings junction saw me thawing out again nicely.
I still wasn't fully into the joys of the ride though, as I have so much churning away in my under powered and easily overloaded brain, that emptying my head of such traumas was providing a lot tougher than is the norm.
The ford at Boswiddle is a favourite haunt for some relaxation, so given my worries, there wasn't a choice to be made at Five Turnings, a junction that can see me dithering for ages over which of the four options available (five if you include turning round and going back the way I'd come) to take.
Once again the cold seeped into me as I dropped down a hill only to see temperatures soar again on the climb up the other side to the hamlet and farm at Boswiddle. A quick right turn and soon enough I was descending again accompanied by the familiar and welcoming roar of the water dropping a level at the ford.
On the flat before the descent to Boswiddle Ford, but on a winter's day as still as this, the water can just be heard as it passes beneath the road there.
The water has once again retreated beneath the road surface, after a brief excursion above it a few weeks ago, but the drop from one side of the road to the other still produces an invigorating thunderous noise, despite the low volume of water. It may not be Niagara Falls, but it does a good job for me.
It all looks calm and peaceful, but the water doesn't half make some noise here. Usually at this stage of the winter, it would be running fast across the road in the background, so cheeky mid ride bike washing is in short supply at the moment.
As usual here I had a good poke about the banks of the stream and the footpath that bypasses the ford, looking for mushrooms, listening to the water and the crows, and just generally trying to level myself.
A tree on the footpath that gives the ford a swerve.
I did enjoy hunting up and down the particularly frosty verge though looking for a photo to take, even though I failed to find anything worthy. I also observed the Sheep in the adjoining field merrily grazing along the line twixt sun and shade, as if joined on some long string or other. It occurred to me that Sheep aren't so daft after all, and in fact, are more intelligent than some of we humans! I've always marveled at the people stood stamping their feet in the cold of the shade as they smoke outside their office block, while a few feet away warm sun beams down. A game of 'spot the English in the lay-bys of Southern France' is just too easy, as all the locals park under the shade of trees while the English cars are always parked in the sun - doors akimbo and with sweaty occupants fanning themselves. In rain I watch sodden and bedraggled people dashing down the side of narrow (single vehicle width) streets that are being hammered with rain, while the other side of the street is entirely sheltered by the buildings that line it.
We British are known for being obsessed with the weather, it's often the first thing we talk about when meeting strangers or long time friends - "Strewth it's henting down out there" and so on. Yet for all our awareness of it, we are utterly brainless seemingly at dealing with it! Those Sheep were plainly stood chomping in the warmth of the sun, but had they been supplied with a Mk I British human brain instead, they would be huddled in the shade no doubt, moaning how cold the grass was that morning. So that was the great conclusion of the ride - Sheep have more common sense than we British folk.
And that was about it really, I didn't photograph the cunningly clever Ruminants either, so the photos in this blog won't meet up exactly with what tripe is written here. But I was fast feeling what little stress I had rid myself of, returning. It wasn't the end of the ride, as I did carry on a bit, and did take a couple more photos, but I was getting grumpy again - it was those clever Sheep reminding me of all the stupid people that inhabit this planet that did it!
The lanes in winter can be every bit as striking as in summer.
I had thought of having a potter along a Bridleway not far from Boswiddle, hence the choice of Fatso as chariot of the day, but as my back was still a little tender, I decided against risking the recovery process further and stuck to tarmac.
Now here was a bit of good news! Just before Christmas I set off intent on some off roadery in these woods, only to be foiled by a newly installed and much padlocked gate. A notice had been pinned up, but was some way inside the gate, meaning you'd have to climb over the gate to read it, which was rather less than astute it must be said. However, the notice has since been moved and rather than public access to the wood being stopped as I suspected, it is merely this entrance that has been closed. So that means woodland manouevres can continue here after all.
Random roadside view into some woodland.
Some GoPro action treated to some Bleach Bypass witchcraft in Nik software afterwards.
So that's it for another ride. We're getting towards the thin end of January now and I'm still out of sorts and struggling to improve matters, but this week a field full of Sheep have shown more sense than a few folk I could mention, which is hardly helpful. Thankfully though, there are also good people who I've never even met, but who inhabit the internet and share similar interests, who remind me that we humans (even the rain lurking, sun sweating, British ones) as a race, aren't in fact all bad, and that there are plenty of good people out there as well to counter the dickwits one encounters so much these days!
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