I'd had a ride some nine or ten days previously, but the calming effects had been short lived and I'd got back into a slump straight away, where even thinking of doing anything at all just seemed too much, never mind actually doing it.
But by last Saturday, I was starting to feel like I could manage a ride. The weather was sunny intervals between lively showers, but nothing too torrid. I could cope with that.
I could take the Fatbike - Fatso is the bike I enjoy riding the most and is always a good bet to put a smile back on my face. Yup, I could ride that.
I wouldn't have to go far, just enough to get out in the fresh air, have a poke about and exercise my legs and lungs a little. Tregassow Lane, my favourite haunt, would be just the job. Yup, I could ride along there.
So, having done a good job of convincing myself a ride would be beneficial, I set about making it happen.
Depression I've discovered, does weird stuff to the memory and my routines, among other things. I normally just prepare for a ride without much thought going into the process - I just bung on the required clothing, add my wallet and phone to their usual trouser pockets, grab the cameras and all my usual guff and head out. But on the last couple of occasions, I've been mooching about and all of a dither trying to bring it all together. It's genuinely scary sometimes how such routine and mundane tasks seem to become half forgotten in such a short period of time when I've had a downward period.
But anyway, it wasn't long before the familiar fizz of fat tyres skimming along the road were soothing away worries of possible additional mental woes and my thoughts were turning to the rhythm of ride, the wind on my face and what the world was looking like that morning.
Fatso leaning on the bench on my beloved Tregassow Lane. A popular place for local dog walkers to head for, stop a while, then head back. The result is a minefield of dog bombs to negotiate when taking to the grass here to and from the bench.
Gorse can always be relied on to add a bit of colour to the surroundings, add in a blue sky and it gets even better.
Hefty overnight showers had left everywhere soggy and the roads puddlesome, but overhead were deep blue skies and warming sunshine. Yup, I was right to persuade myself to get out, I was already starting to feel at home - back doing about the only things I enjoy these days, riding, poking my nose about and taking snaps.
The peace and calm of the countryside along Tregassow Lane is always rejuvenating, and stopping to just listen to the sounds of Trevella Stream running beneath the bridge while a Pheasant crowed in the wood nearby, I utterly basked in the calming ambience, greedily sucking in the fresh air and feeling of freedom from all the junk of modern life.
Turkey Tail Fungus on a stick beside Trevella Stream. I have a fellow Flickrneer from neighbouring Devon to thank for the identification.
Feeling better all the time, and like I wanted an even better dose of solitude and remoteness, I headed off down the 'foot'path that ultimately links up with a Bridleway that leads down into Tresillian. I wasn't going that far though, just to the clearing beside the stream, where I poked around a bit, stogging about in the ankle deep mire that surrounds the stream at the bottom of the hill. After a good old nose around, I found a comfy log to sit on, a rarity given my bad back, and just sat for a while doing, well, nothing at all.
The 'Foot'path from Tregassow Lane, goes to the right of the stile. I say 'Foot'path, as vehicles clearly use it, most likely 4x4s. I'm dying to ride up and then back down, the track leading up the field to the left, but I think that'd be pushing my luck a bit.
Tregassow footpath.
This more open section of the footpath was thick with brambles until fairly recently, but the land owner has cleared it all making riding a lot easier.
Yeah yeah yeah...
Riding on such a footpath might be a touch naughty, but knickers to it! I think in fact that these more rural paths, where possible, should be opened up to bicycle use anyway. This one is obviously some ancient track that in the past was well trodden, it bears all the hallmarks of a once busy right of way.
The path passes through some charming and remote woodland.
A Rainbow always makes a good subject for a snap...
That climb really brought home the lack of riding I've been doing lately, as my legs burned and I struggled up the slope I normally conquer relatively easily these days.
They've been out lobbing random shovel loads of soft tarmac about again, supposedly in the name of repairing the potholes in the roads. This splodge of tarmac in the middle of a long stretch of damaged roadside edge is not going to last very long at all, and has probably actually made for an added bump for any vehicle running a wheel along it. Why they didn't patch the whole crater is a mystery.
Just to add to the uplifting air of the ride, I passed several clumps of Daffodils sprouting from the verges, a sure sign of good things to come, hopefully.
Sat here writing this a couple of days later, I realise I'm still out of sorts and not quite back to normal, whatever that is these days, but I'm going in the right direction, which is the main thing.
Getting amongst the wet and the mud, the fresh air and the sounds of the countryside again: the best therapy I know.
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