Days Like These...

After an iffy few days of general mojo deficiency and back stiffness, it was back on the bike on Sunday and what a great ride about it turned out to be.

Feeling a bit better in general I was off faster than a bride's nightie come yesterday morning but had barely gone 100 yards before I was stopped and snapping away at the Snowdrops and Bluebells in the bank in the lane near Bimble Headquarters. This hedge/bank is always good for a splendid display and this year is no exception. Spring is I think my favourite season. Summer is ok but a bit plain and boring really. Winter is just dismal while Autumn I quite like for its pleasantly smelly atmosphere. Spring though, when everything comes alive and colour is busting out all over the place, takes the Gold medal. Such a great, refreshing time of year.

Barely out of the door and I've stopped for some snaps already.

The morning started off sunny in places, but also quite humid feeling, with a lot of residual dampness from Saturday's rain still lurking beneath tree cover, where a change in temperature could also be felt as I bombed down the hill towards Trevella Stream for yet another photo stop. Despite some recent rain, the stream is already an almost silent trickle as it drops smoothly down a level below the bridge. As I'm typing this, there is a story on the BBC News about a possible water shortage come Summer, with water levels in rivers and streams low already.

 The sun was trying to break through, but in the meantime it was a bit murky round the edges, and humid feeling.

The bridge over Trevella Stream and waterside Cow Parsley.

Another stop by the Cat Hotel a few yards on from the stream, and yet another up the hill towards Five Turnings and it was at this latter stop that I bumped into a friendly fellow villager who was on her way home from an early photo taking mission over on the Roseland. I'd missed erm, a misty start apparently, and she'd managed to bag some shots of some Deer in that mist that she was very excited about.

Memo to self – Get up earlier you lazy blinking git!

 One minute the sun was out, like here at the Cat Hotel where this brave Pheasant was mooching about unconcerned by my presence.

The next minute the sun was hidden (well almost) by cloud, but it just felt like it was going to turn out to be a warm and sunny day.

 No prizes for guessing which side of this lane faces the sun more. This shot took a lot of heavy lifting in post to make something worthwhile of it, as in the grey and overcast moments the GoPro doesn't fare so well.

Swooping down this hill felt fantastic - free speed and rushing through the air is always a good feeling combo.

Random viewpoint but it does portray the clammy, damp, humid feel. This was weather you can feel alright, you can feel it encircling your legs and neck in clingy warmth, like being in the reptile house at the zoo.

The roads were still damp beneath tree cover but you don't need a Barometer or a moisture meter to know if there is damp in the air, you need a disc braked bike. If I ride through a Bumble Bee's sneeze Fatso's brakes will start howling.

Just out of Boswiddle I left Fatso lying in a gateway while I took a photo. Just as I was lining up the shot, this rather splendid John Deere rocked up needing to use that gate. Typical eh?!

By the look of that tractor, this could well have been its first outing, it looked box fresh apart from the ballast weights on the front that is.

I'd set off with Ladock Woods in mind, and by now I'd been out nearly an hour and still hadn't done two miles, so it was time to get pedaling otherwise I'd still be out there now. Well that is all well and good in theory, but in practice it's a bit harder, and sure enough it wasn't long before I was stopped again at Boswiddle Ford for a good old poke around. I don't think I've ever ridden straight through here, I always stop for a while, and always enjoy the time I spend here. It's a tranquil spot on a quiet lane, with the footpath, the stream and various pools to explore, all to the constant backdrop of the local Crows. I don't know if they always make a racket like that or it's just because one of those upright things was walking around their patch down at ground level, but they were making a proper racket yesterday. All this squawkin' fails to spoil the tranquil atmosphere though, rather it adds to it, reminding me where I am. Give me water roaring through the culvert and Crows screeching over traffic or neighbourly noise every time.

 Boswiddle Ford. Now the water has retreated below the road again, the hi Viz boys have been back and laid new tarmac in line with the rest of the road. How long that tarmac will last with cold water flowing fast over it every winter remains to be seen.

 The culverts beneath the road still flowing freely enough to make plenty of great sounding noise.

And the view when snuggled up against one of those pipes.

I was wondering when the fuzzy upload would appear. Well here it is. Right click and open link in a new tab will see it right.

Hmmm... now this one is looking very fuzzy indeed - hopelessly so really, but being a multi shot pano it is a chunky file size I suppose. As above, right click and open in a new tab.

On the hill climbing away from Boswiddle Ford.

Eventually I was grunting and mincing my way through the kissing gate as I manhandled Fatso through on his back wheel into Ladock/St Enoder Woods. You could spend ages exploring these woods and not see a single Bluebell, just not the right environment for them presumably, but I was headed for the path on the most Easterly edge of the woods that I thought might find some lurking given the rag bag nature of the woodland there, and I was right too! This border path requires a bit of climbing up a steep rooty, stony track to reach, and I ran out of legs before Fatso ran out of traction and so had to bail out and push the last few yards to the top. At first I thought I was wrong in my prediction, but after a short ride back in the direction of the car park as it happens, (the path is accessed via a stile from the car park, too much for me to lift Fatso over so I have to go the long way round), I found the beautiful blue beggars and in some numbers too. Add in all the other wild flowers sprouting all over the shop at the moment and it was all a rather blue, yellow, pink and white wonder show.

 Ladock Woods.

  Onto the path on the Easterly edge of the woods and now to see if there are any Bluebells about...

Hayup, the sun's out again.

And there they are. I love 'em I do.

 A single Rhododendron bush beside the path.

Greater Stitchwort amid the Bluebells.

Back along the path, and after saying hello to the local ladies, and copping some Mooey slobber full on in the face (do Cows get Hay Fever? Bit of a bugga for them if they do...), it was back down the steep path and then on for a general and leisurely potter around.

I've been to these woods many times in the past, and thought I knew them pretty well, but somehow, and with my ex wife's advice in the back of my mind presumably, I got lost. No matter what track I took, I couldn't get my bearings at all, but this of course is a good thing, getting lost is all part of the fun and the deeper you go into a wood the less likely you are to encounter a walker or run over one of their offspring, even inadvertently. These woods are pretty dense in places too, and fearsomely dark as well, not a place I'd want to spend the night I can tell you (they're a funny lot round Ladock way anyway, let alone those who might live in the woods...), but eventually I found myself back on familiar ground and was soon grappling with the kissing gate once again.

 Now this really grips my plums. Why do people bring along a bag, scoop up the dog bomb and then fall at the very last hurdle of responsibility? Any half wit will know anyway that a dog poo will degrade far faster if left in the open, so if you're not going to dispose of the bag and its steaming contents properly, then don't bother at all. 

 Mornin' ladies...

 Awwww...

It was at this point that the friendship came to a wet end, as the cow on the right of the front pair was just about to sneeze all over me. Charming.

It's no good looking at me like that... I'm off.

Lost in Ladock Woods.

More country lane goodness as seen from the entrance to Ladock Woods.

Leaving the slightly muddy woods saw Fatso merrily Catherine Wheeling up the road as mud flew everywhere. Thank goodness for mudguards, that's all I can say.

From the woods it was an uneventful but still very pleasurable toot along the lanes to Carland Cross and then down the old A39, now a Bridleway, towards home. It was on this section of the ride that I glanced at my watch and had a bit of a surprise. As an ex bus driver I generally have a pretty finely tuned idea of time and its passing, but my watch just confirmed what I knew and felt already – the ride had been a thoroughly relaxing and enjoyable one as it was far later than I expected it to be. I was thinking I'd be home around lunchtime but it was nearly three o'clock! A sure sign that is of a good time being had, utterly immersed in what I was doing and what was around me.

Talking of lunch, the only downside of the day (apart from a stiff and painful back again from all the poking about I did off the bike) was the number of flipping Flying Ants. Least I think they're Flying Ants – gert droopy arsed lumbering creatures. Anyway, I encountered great fogs of the things, and other random low flying protein matter as well, and I've no idea how many of the beasts I swallowed but I do know that despite being out later than I thought, I wasn't at all hungry when I got home – I was full up!

Memo to self – Remember one of the ten biking commandments as told by Paul Sample of Ogri fame in Bike Magazine (the motorbike mag that is) - “Ride ye not with thine gob gaping...”

On the old A39, now a Bridleway, Fatso reached the 1,000 mile mark. That's all three of my bikes reaching 1,000 miles each this year, which is only a modest mileage, but is still not bad going for me. The Clattermonger Carrera has also done over 1,000 miles in my ownership, but is now in retirement.

But the aches and pains and chewy airborne matter couldn't spoil what a superb day it was, days like those are what it's all about for me and even now, the next day, and with my back easing again, I'm still feeling the buzz of an invigorating and stimulating ride.

Map of the route. Ladock Woods are at points 4, 5 and 6, but the trace hardly does my meanderings justice. The full map is Here

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