First Bimble of the Year in the Bag.

Well, 2017 got underway without much in the way of fanfare as far as I was concerned. I sort of stumbled into it like I do my clothes some mornings, before realising later my jumper is on inside out and I've put both socks on one foot. New Year's Day was a bit of a fuggy one for me, I wasn't really at the races, nor the day after, but yesterday, the third day of this fresh year, I thought it about time I got my first ride under my wheels.

It turned out to be cracking day for it too - beautiful and sunny, and still as a lamppost, but with a chunky frost in evidence along with air as sharp as needles in the lungs when gulping it in up some of the hills.

I do like silhouettes on days like these...

 Look, here's another. The lane at Treworgan on the way to Lanner Mill.

Once out of the village and far enough beyond the main road to no longer hear the traffic, the only noise to be heard came from the wild life and my tyres crackling softly on the gravel, and crunching on the frozen grass or mud up the middle of the road in places. 

I never knowingly go anywhere under dressed, so most of me was lovely and toasty, but my face and fingers were still making the cold air felt, and taking photos became a fumblesome affair as I struggled with the camera and dead feeling pinkies. Half pressing the shutter to get focus was the biggest issue, but the cold wasn't just bothering the flesh, the camera was acting up as well, adding to the fun. Once focused, it wouldn't then release focus after the shutter had been released, and the menus seemed to go haywire as well, flitting from setting to setting or flashing on and off. Back home and all is fine once more, so hopefully it was just the cold making mischief in the works rather than another Canon about to terminally call it quits.

Frozen fingers didn't help when descending the hill towards Lanner Mill either, as speed down there is unwise to say the least, but I was also wary of hitting any frozen damp patches while hard on the brakes all the way down. I'd passed plenty of frozen puddles and damp bits for unplanned skidding and crashing to be a real possibility, and I try to avoid that kind of thing if I can, plus I'd given my stunt double the day off, so care taking was the order of the day.

Climbing the swinish hill up out of Lanner Mill. A good place to stop for a rest  A nice spot for a photograph, featuring as it does, this attractive old barn/store.

More care was needed regarding that low sun too with regard to meeting the occasional motor vehicle. I always seemed to meet something that was travelling fully into the sun, either when driving towards me or coming up behind me, and I'm wary of how little the driver can see of an old bloke on a bike in such conditions, so as soon as I heard something I pulled right in and let them pass.

For some reason I always struggle for photographic inspiration around this particular loop, and yesterday was no exception, in fact, with the low but bright sun and dark shadows making for heaps of exposure befuddling contrast, it wasn't just my photographic eye that was struggling. That sun also made riding uncomfortable at times too, as it strobed away into one eye or the other depending on what direction my nose was pointing.

I've made a deal with the Devil Dodgers - If they don't knock on my door to tell all about their particular religious flavour, then I won't go knocking on theirs, so this is as close as I generally get to churches. I stay outside on neutral ground lest I get struck down by a lightning bolt or similar.

But this church, the parish church of St Allen, is a fine example of the type it has to be said.

 Always an untidy, messy lane this one, but yesterday the mud up the middle was thrillingly crunchy as the tyres broke the frozen crust.

A barn undergoing renovation at Ventonleague while out of shot to the left, a whole new building is going up. I just hope it fits in well with the surroundings and isn't some architect's glass and concrete fetish made real.

Apparently the result of air bubbles - some milky, some clear - in the ice as it formed, the patterns to be found on frozen puddles can be quite striking. Redness is the reflection of my jacket. 

All of which sounds like a lot of moaning, but in fact it was another enjoyable enough ride, full of solitude and fresh, invigorating, runny nose making, air, and I will never complain about that. 

These maps aren't the most detailed or interesting, but there we go. 7.9 miles was the journey, at a bimbleiferous 7.0 mph average.

---------------