Saturday mind you, didn't get off to the most calming of starts though, as after a night spent anguishing over all sorts of junk whirling around in my head, I overslept and didn't stumble out of bed until nearly 10 in the morning. I obviously had got to sleep at some point, probably around Sheep number 15,020, but I can't say I awoke refreshed and ready for the day, but there we go.
The normal procedure at such times is to stumble down to the kitchen to make coffee while arguing with myself mentally about what to do with what remains of the day, if anything. Going back to bed is a good answer on some particularly 'black' days, staring at the internet until it's time for lunch is another possibility on 'grey' days. But before going to bed I had in fact made plans to go for a ride somewhere and have a coffee, something I haven't done for a while, and so in an unusually positive move for me in such circumstances, I thought 'Why not' and decided to get out and get on with it quickly, before I changed my mind. To facilitate that, I would postpone the first coffee of the day until I reached a suitable point on my ride... This was brave bravery of the highest order! Riding 'pre-caffeinated' can be done, I've done it many times before, but usually on days when I've felt a bit more switched on to start with. This could get messy...
It wasn't just my head that was grey and drizzly, but Saturday was too, but I'd decided to head into the local wood (didn't want to take on anything too ambitious, not in my precariously coffee deficient state) where the weather wouldn't really make its presence felt.
Hmmm... grey and grizzlesome out, and what the hell is all that noise?
A pleasant enough rural scene, but by the sound of it World War Three had broken out and no one had thought to tell me...
Thankfully, once I'd taken cover in the wood, the trees did a good job of muffling the sound of guns and I could take the white flag off my selfie stick and set about enjoying some peace and quiet.
The stream running alongside the lower path in Idless Woods near Truro.
I did go off piste though briefly to check out the ruins of the old Gunpowder factory.
An odd thing to find in a wood in the middle of nowhere but that was why these explosives factories were sited thus - to limit damage in the event of an accident - the trees would smother the explosion and also the roofs of the buildings were designed to blow off easily, allowing the explosive force an easy and relatively harmless escape route upwards.
The running water meanwhile was used to power huge grinding wheels.
Gunpowder for use in the mines had to be imported into Cornwall at great expense until the early 1800s, when several such factories were established in the county, mostly in wooded river valleys. Charcoal was produced in this wood, but the other main ingredients for Gunpowder - Saltpetre and Sulphur, would have been brought into the county, possibly arriving by boat into what was still then a bustling port in nearby Truro.
There isn't a huge amount to see here, basically what you can see in these photos - the ruins of some small buildings, unlike at other much bigger sites, particularly the Kennal Vale factory near Ponsanooth.
More info on the works at Kennal Vale can be found Here
By now, the stresses of the sleep disturbed night and the sound of WW3 going ahead had long been forgotten and the bimble was working its theraputic magic as I relaxed into my surroundings, and congratulated myself on having got thus far and still feeling relatively human. But, coffee would have to be infused soon, so having had a good nose around I got back onto the main path and rode down to a favourite spot for a brew up at the edge of the stream, beside some more evidence of some past activity or other.
Whatever was here wasn't very big, but I'd still like to know what it was... eh Forestry Commission? A bit more history on your web site page for Idless Woods would be most welcome!
Whoop whoop! Coffee time!
The Trangia getting a tad excited. I must buy some pointy flamed fuel next time, this flat topped flame meths is nowhere near as pleasing...
If Beaver lived here, this is the view they'd get.
And this is the sort of caper they get up to no doubt...
Coffee always tastes so much better when you've had to wait for it! I don't get into all the fermuckle that some folk do when coffeenating outdoors - not for me all the grinding and filtering equipment and all that guff. I prefer the ease of the all in one sachets that can be bought from any supermarket and the like. A coffee snob's worst nightmare, but darned good tasting to me.
Had the day started earlier, well for me anyway, then I would most likely have then ridden on somewhere else but by now it was gone lunchtime, so I decided to stick around in the wood and have me a poke about up a path I hadn't poked about up before.
A couple of random woodland shots above...
Now these strange sheltery type structures might be responsible for...
the damage to the bark on many of the trees here. It could be the result of animal activity, but there were no signs of tracks, droppings or hair/fur to suggest this is the case.
Unusually, I had trouble getting the old duffer (me) in focus while trying to get some riding shots. Normally it's not an issue, but for some reason, on Saturday, the camera wasn't playing ball. So time for plan B on such occasions, and blur the old boy and focus on something a bit more solid and most importantly, stationary.
The sun even started to come out just to make the day complete, and after a goodly bit of dicking about trying to get a satisfactory ride past photo, I headed home, muddy of bike and trouser, and in need of food now as well as more coffee, but very relaxed and happy.
Heading home after what turned out to be a very satisfying day despite a dodgy start.
Only 7 miles done, but they were very pleasurable miles indeed, which is as I said some yards back up there at the top of this epic, what it's all about.
Oh... Saint Drogo, the geezer mentioned in the title... he's the Patron Saint of Coffee and Coffee Houses. Sound chap obviously.
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