Multi Ride Catch Up.

Hmmmm... another post, another big catch up that'll end up a hundred yards long. I should update more often obviously.

Right, best crack on then and once again I'll just lob photos up and do the wafflin' as captions.

So where do we start? Sunday 20th August, that's where.

Ah yes, now ahead of Sunday the 20th, the forecast had been promising, and I intended taking the Marin out for a ride, but come the day itself, well as you can see it was wet. Get the magnificent Marin all mucky? Oh no no no... I did however still want, no need, to go out for a ride and get a nature fix, so got all togged up in wet weather gear, fished out the Voodoo, and set off to go for a mooch about locally rather than the longer ride I had originally planned.

Hitting the top of the hill by Four Turnings I was inwardly bemoaning this awful summer we were having. It wasn't raining hard mind you, it was just drizzle with occasional spells of light rain, but it was also misty and generally a bit 'orrible out. 

The 'mission shift' I'd undergone from Marin and bigger ride to Voodoo and local one was a conscious shift. The next, a shift in attitude, came about quite naturally. After initially wondering just what the hell I was doing going out and getting wet, and feeling a tad grumpy about the mucky weather, I started to actually enjoy it. 

I put that sudden change down to descending down to Riverside, a junction where I join the lane from Probus that leads right through to Tresillian. Down there, surrounded by trees and hedges, and with the sound of the river gurgling nearby and the gentle pitter-patter of rain in the trees, I started to relax and immerse myself in the countryside as it was at that time, on that day, with that weather.

 Bindweed looks lovely but has a bad reputation for taking over large areas of verge or hedgerow and smothering all that went before it.

Down at Riverside there is an eye catching patch of these Cranesbill, or Hardy Geranium. An escapee from a nearby garden most likely that has spread around the verge, these attractive flowers currently share space with the above Bindweed, so they could be in for a struggle for survival.

 These little chaps, Campion, are great little sources of colour for a large chunk of the year, brightening up the roadsides long after the glamourpuss, more extrovert, flowers have been and gone.

The secret to enjoying the rain is to be somewhere peaceful if you ask me. Well that's a bit obvious to say the least, but riding along a main road copping the spray in your face from passing traffic is an ordeal in anyone's money. On roads like this, where an encounter with a car is seemingly on a once every 30 minutes or so basis, choosing to be out in the rain can feel liberating and invigorating. Normally we give rain a swerve, do our best to avoid getting wet and so on, but choosing to go out in it, and reveling in it, is a very refreshing and uplifting experience, if you can do it in the right circumstances that is. Luckily for me, these lanes are on my doorstep, so it's just a matter of getting the waterproofs on and getting out there.

It's not always so good though, such as when it's blowing like hell and the rain is lancing into you like a succession of sniper's bullets, but when the rain is light and the temperature warm, the countryside can be a pretty magical place to be.

 Fuzziness caused by camera shake...

And fuzziness during the upload process.

Seeing as I was out and about and without any urgency in my day, another spot of Blackberrrying was in order - yum.

Proper bimbling - just four or so mph on the speedo, gear - low, cadence - low, heartbeat - low. 

Pleasure - high.

Just choochin' along...

Back out onto the more exposed hilltops again, but in a much more relaxed mood. 

Always best to give way to agricultural stuff I find, especially when it fills the lane like this beggar does.

Now where are we? Ah right, Tuesday the 22nd of August.

Now that's more like the sort of weather we should be having in August.

Only a brief ride this one though, and not many photos taken either. I was struggling to be honest and not feeling the buzz. My head was achy and my legs leaden, so I wasn't enjoying the ride as much as normal, but it happens and as long as the desire returns then all is good.

I don't know anything about Mushrooms, Toadstools or Fungi, but they are quite remarkable things when you really stop and look at them.

Well that was that for that day, told you I didn't get up to much.

I got up to even less bike wise on Thursday the 24th...

Just a quick ride up the cycle path at the Western end of the village for yet more Blackberries - got to get 'em while stocks last!

Now we're up to Sunday the 27th August - the Bank Holiday weekend, and what a scorcher the weekend was!

More striking Fungi, this time in the shape of a lonesome jobbie near Boswiddle. Looks like some beast or critter has taken an exploratory munch, rather them than me...

Oh joy, surface dressing. 

To be fair, it's not as bad a practice as it used to be, at least on these lanes anyway. They use a much finer grade of chipping now and are less liberal with the quantities too - no longer pouring tons of gravel along the road for traffic to plough through and disperse, paint chippingly noisily, into the verges.

The lane skirting the edge of Ladock Wood from Trelassick to Trendeal is a bimbler's treat. Smoothly surfaced, quiet and devoid of lung busting gradients, it's great to drift along taking in the sights and sounds of the adjacent woodland.

 One of the smaller combines as these things go these days, at work just above Trendeal.

While I was watching the combine growling up and down, and ripening my arms and neck nicely in the hot sun, an elderly lady piloting a mobility scooter came along the lane and hung a right straight into the field, where she motored on purposely along the edge and into the distance.  No idea where she was going, but she definitely had an air of intent about her.

Last ride now, yesterday, Tuesday the 29th of August.

And normal meteorological service has been resumed - Much mankiness.

Yup, it was grizzly drizzly once again as I boarded Fatso and headed for Idless Woods.

A gloomy day weather wise, but the rain does bring the colours out a bit in the woods.

Fatso hasn't quite got the hang of games of hide and seek.

Some rather splendid variety and colour alongside the main path through the woods.

Heading up through the trees and onto the uppermost path I enjoyed a bit of bush busting where the path comes out from under the cover of trees, and has become rather overgrown.

 Most of the Foxgloves in my 'hood have long disappeared from the roadsides and so on, but here in Idless Woods one or two examples can still be found.

Rosebay Willowherb on the lowermost, riverside, path.

Woodland floor randomness.

Not much to speak of regarding this ride really, just another mooch about the wood in the rain, but a very enjoyable mooch it was all the same.

Fatso lurking beneath one of a pair of eye catching trees on the lane back towards Trispen. The other tree is a bit further along and a chunk bigger, but it is also harder to photograph satisfactorily, being closer to the narrow road and seemingly always half in shadow.

So that's it, all up to date, three of the fleet ridden and sullied, miles done, Blackberries gathered, and moods enhanced (with one minor exception). 

I am pondering getting a proper waterproof compact camera now, as the couple of rides in the rain caused me a few problems with the G1 X and trying to keep it dry, and the GoPro, whilst liberatingly good in its ability to shrug off water, doesn't have the image quality in dull weather or the control of a 'proper' camera. 

There are lots of photographic possibilities to be had from getting out in the rain, as well as general health and well being benefits for being out when normally I'd be in, as it were, so it's something on my mind at the moment. Maybe a Christmas present to myself...

Lastly, I'm still enjoying visits from Flash, my hairy arsed nocturnal chum.

Last Saturday week, I spent a good half hour or more watching him rooting about the back garden and up on the patio. My back door is split in two, stable door like, so I can keep the bottom half shut and the top open and watch him at close range.

However, this might not be such good practice for Flash here to get used to human presence. Not all we humans have good intentions towards Badgers, so it would be better if he remains wary of contact really. 

Likewise, I've learned that feeding Badgers needs care. The best way to help them apparently is to not overfeed them, and not to do it every night either. Following this advice means Flash won't come to rely on being able to snaffle all sorts of goodies chez moi, and instead will continue to hone his foraging skills in the wild.

So, tough though it is, I'm going to ignore any furtling noises I hear outside now, and only occasionally look for him, and from more of a distance too. I'll also feed him less and not so often either, though I'm sure as winter nears he could do with a bit of fattening up, so no doubt will give in to sentiment and give him a bit extra once again. 

Right, that's all for this post, my apologies for it being a bit rushed- happy cycling!

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Two Ride Catch Up.

Ah yes... I've been playing in puddles again...

I've had a couple of other rides this week, nothing too strenuous or ambitious, just riding bikes around my local lanes again. These lanes though aren't boring, not to me anyway, or repetitive, I could ride them every day and still find them refreshing, interesting and rewarding. 

Marcel Proust once said "The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes." Quoting some French novelist makes me look really intelligiment and clevver, but it's a quote I saw in a photography book recently, and it sort of struck a chord with me with how when you look at familiar things, really look, there is always something to notice, some change that has occurred, something going on that can inform the curious and so on. 

I sometimes ride other lanes and find myself thinking it's a good job I don't live round here as I'd never have anything to photograph, or look at, it's all a bit boring. The reality is I just don't know those lanes well enough, I don't ride them every week, and I don't think hard about how best I can illustrate yet another ride along them. I don't see the changing seasons and their affect on those particular lanes, the hedges, trees and verges, or the crops in the surrounding fields. I haven't got to know them like the back of my hand basically. It also helps to be a bit nosy! 

There is also comfort in the familiar I suppose, and the security of not being far from home if I tweak my back or suffer some other sort of biological or mechanical malaise. You can also switch part of your alertness off and concentrate instead on what is going on around you more, as you know where the road goes, where the pot holes are and so on. So keeping an ear out for traffic from behind and an eye out for traffic coming towards you, you can find more time to peer over or into hedges, through gates or up at the tree tops. On strange to you lanes, everything is new, including the road surface, junctions, gateways and side roads and all those other things you give priority attention to so you have less spare for gawping as you ride. 

I've lost count of how many times I've ridden round my usual loop, but every time I head off down Tregassow Lane I still feel a little buzz of anticipation as I know the next half hour, or however long I choose to poke around  - and it can be two or three hours before I return home having only done a few short miles, will prove enjoyable.

A lot of folk ride the same routes repeatedly of course, commuters for one, and those keeping fit or in training for another, but they will seldom see the benefit of the repeated bimble, where you have time to get to know your route quite so intimately.

I still repeat some photos though and playing in the puddles and taking splashy shots is something I've done many times before and no doubt will do many times again, and Tregassow Lane is always good for a flood or two after some rain, and we have had some rain alright!

Woohoo... Tregassow Lane has flooded again and the inner big kid can be released once more... Oh... hang on... can I hear something coming...

 Ohhh... this could end badly...

Boshhhh!!! 

The perils of the solo ride past shot. Leaving a camera unattended while you ride up and down and some random vehicle appears when you're too far away to grab your gear out of the way.

Yup, it's still there...

Thankfully I'd placed the GoPro on the very outside of the bend, so the van driver was unlikely to go that deeply into the corner unless he met something coming the other way of course. The worst that could happen really would've been the camera falling over and me having to fish it out, but still, my heart was still in my mouth when that van passed me and I crossed my fingers he wouldn't run my gear over or something.

 My word, talk about a straight edge... the top line of that crop could've been drawn with a ruler.

Harvesting that lot is going to be a muddy affair given all the rain recently.

Trehane Wood on the right, and I'm actually riding back the way I'd come, but it was the best photo of the few I took here. I've seen Deer in the road along here in the past, just before they've looked up, seen the old boy on a bike coming towards them and legged it into the woods quick.

Montbretia, so the book says, in the hedge near Five Turnings.

Today, Friday, saw me hunter gathering again as I set out on the Voodoo in search of more Blackberries. Apart from giving me a bit of spinal grief, Blackberrying is a most relaxing way to spend some time, and this morning the countryside was a very refreshing, invigorating, place to be as the lively wind noisily thrashed the tree tops about, and a couple of brief, but energetic, showers blew through.

My left glove (I'm a left hander with a pen and when picking things) and also the Voodoo's left bar grip are stained a rather dramatic shade of purple, and my fingers have been stung by stinging nettles and pricked by stabby things, but by crikey the desserts have been good since the Blackberries came out. 

I've frozen a load too, so hopefully I can extend the after-the-main-course goodness for a while after the Berrying season is over. Free food is good food I say, make the most of it!

More steady rain last night, and about an hour before I set off it properly lashed it down for a few minutes.
The Voodoo is a surprisingly good bike for a £300 banger, with the wheels being the only really duff point. The paint flaking off like that on a well cared for machine is pretty poor to be honest.

The Voodoo doing what it does best at the moment - waiting patiently in the hedge while the bimbler goes berrying, an exercise that has been proving most fruitful. (sorry...)

Progress when Blackberrying is slow as I scour the hedges and stop every few yards to plunder the bushes some more. I was gone a couple of hours and pootled a paltry five and a half miles.

Not a wild fruit related stop this time, but a harvesty one all the same.

Right, that's my lot this week, I must get the Marin out again soon, it's looking nice and peachy in my living room. To me, it's a great looking bike, and I hate getting it mucky, I really do, but I also want to ride it and with this weather we're having, riding and clean bikes are incompatible, which is a bit of a beggar!

I've always joked that Summer is when the rain is warm... It's certainly proving the case this year that's for sure.

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A Ride Around The Big City.

“When the spirits are low, when the day appears dark, when work becomes monotonous, when hope hardly seems worth having, just mount a bicycle and go out for a spin down the road, without thought on anything but the ride you are taking” – Arthur Conan Doyle.

Right, before we bleddy start... Previewing this post has thrown up a higher than usual number of blurred photos, and that really grinds my gonads. I don't know why some photos show up fuzzy, I've tried sorting it by reloading right the way back from my PC, but to avail. For some reason, it just takes against some images and decides to knacker them. To view them properly, right click and open in a new tab works best.

Also for some unknown reason, the formatting went all wonky. This Blogger site is certainly getting on my pip today that's for sure. I've no idea what happened, but I think I've fixed it, but if it shows up all over the place like a mad woman's breakfast, I can only apologise.

Right, where the bleddy hell was I? Ah yes, a couple of rides to catch up on, but I'll do them in separate posts I think, just to break up the hundred yards or so of photos that will accompany them.

The weather continues with its pattern of wet day - dry day. Wet day- dry day. Flipping hellishly wet day - dry day. Some summer this one is! Spring was a corker though, so we must be grateful for that, and the weather does mean that riding conditions, when it isn't puddling down, are actually very pleasant - no factor 50 sun blocker required, no risk of expiring in an overheated, sweaty, gasping heap on a hill somewhere. Pleasantly warm is how I'd describe the going at the moment, if a little wet around the edges.

Sunday, holding true to the established weather pattern, was a dry day with sunny intervals and little to no wind. Feeling about 90% fit spine wise,  or what passes as fit for me anyway, a ride was on the cards, the only questions being which bike and where.

The first question was a simple one - a ride on Fatso was long overdue. For the first time since I'd got the Fatbike, it hadn't done the majority of my monthly mileage when I added up July's totals. That honour went to the newly arrived Marin of course, but Fatso had only had a single outing in the whole of July, and tallied a beggarly 7 miles in the process. It had to be the Fatty.

Fatso ready to rumble in the Sunday morning sunshine.

That just left where to go. Usually I like to have a complete ride mapped out in my head before setting foot to pedal, but on this morning, I had no such details in my head, just a vague idea to head towards Truro and to make it up as I went along. A ride for the sake of riding really, the only real stipulation (bike choice apart) being to be on a bike turning the pedals and getting my knees in the breeze.

 Fatso is the only bike I have that I think has some character. Getting on it again after riding the others is like taking an eager dog for its favourite walk. It is a supremely comfortable bike to ride - you feel as if you are sitting in it rather than on it, and it never fails to raise a smile when setting off and hearing those gert fat tyres rasping down the road, as bike and pilot rumble and gently rampage along in search of fun. 

This shot above is a bit flat looking colour wise, despite some minor surgery in post, but that's the nature of the GoPro really, in less than ideal conditions images are a tad limp looking.

Not only that, but the bars look wonky in relation to the front wheel. I've checked the bike and all is tickety boo and straight ahead as a shotgun barrel, so it must be the angle of dangle of the camera.

Mooching along, relaxed in the knowledge I didn't really know where I was going, but nor did I really care.

Getting into Truro is a bit of a pain for the bi-wheelers of this parish, at least the human powered ones anyway. Cornwall's only city lies just four miles away from my front door, but the direct route involves battling the heavies on the main A39, a road that is really too busy, and too narrow and twisting for relaxed and happy cycling. There's no shoulder to speak of, and for parts of the route, not even a verge or a gateway to take brief sanctuary in let traffic pass.
So I tend not to ride into Truro much, which is a shame really,but there we go. When I do though, I take a big old dog leg to avoid getting banged on the head by a Scania wing mirror or shoulder barged by the number 88 bus. So, on this particular morning I chose to wend my way through the lanes to Tresillian rather go the other route through Idless, and then ride into Truro along a route I've never done on a bicycle, and not done on or in a motor vehicle for probably at least 30 years, I was going to go via Devil's Archway.

Random shot in Tresillian, and the offerings of the only pub in the village, The Wheel inn.

This road is as busy as the more northerly running A39, but is far wider, and is equipped with a cycle lane, so whilst it is still noisy, it does offer safer riding.

Normally I turn left at the Western end of Tresillian and immediately left again to ride along the riverside, but on this occasion I decided to reacquaint myself with a route I often used when riding into Truro on my motorcycles back along - Devil's Archway, seen above.

Leaving the main road, you drop down sharply, then even more sharply the lane climbs narrowly and steeply between sheer sided banks, before flattening briefly and passing under the arch, or bridge that gives the route its name. How it got that name is a mystery though, other than it being a bit spooky through there at times perhaps. Maybe someone met a grizzly end here or something, who knows. The arch or bridge carries a path over the road through land belonging to the Pencalenick Estate, that's about all I do know.

Oh and travelling this road into Truro is best done in the morning, and out of town in the afternoon/evening so you don't go against the flow of fast driving rat runners trying to dodge the traffic on the main road.

This route into Truro takes one past Penair School and onto the long descent of St Clement's Hill, past the main Cemetery about half way down. With both parents and grandparents in the cemetery I took the opportunity to go in and visit their graves, something I don't do often enough really.

Being on the side of one of the hills that surround Truro affords the cemetery some great views across to the city, and on such a day as I was enjoying, it is a very pleasant and peaceful place to be. Not so clever in bad weather though, and funerals there can be considerable ordeals when heavy rain is being lashed across the hillside by strong winds.

Family graves. Maternal Grandparents in the foreground, my parents behind. Although sheltered to a degree from the prevailing south westerlies by the grave stones themselves, flowers never last long here, so I didn't feel too bad for not having brought any due to my spur of the moment ride planning.

Cemeteries are always sobering places, and I eventually left in a thoughtful mood only to be rudely woken from it by arriving at the bottom of the hill and bumping into the mad - for - a - Sunday traffic. By crikey the roads are busy these days.

Having arrived in the big city, (well it's big for down here, and it's a city, with shops n'escalators n'stuff, so there!) I knew I didn't want to just ride aimlessly around the centre, but also I didn't want to go too far elsewhere, so decided to have a trundle along the old Newham branch line that skirts around the southern edge of the city. This is part of NCN Route 3, and is much recommended for anyone riding between Truro and Falmouth as an alternative to the busy main road.

 Sunday is no longer a day of rest it seems (although I managed to capture a brief quiet moment traffic wise here) and the roads are almost as busy (and noisy) as any weekday.

I must say, Truro City Council's Parks Department always does a great job of the flowers around the city. A lot of hard work must go into it all and I think their efforts are a perhaps a little under appreciated by many folk.

The building behind dominating this view used to be Blewett's Bakery, home of the mighty Dreadnought pasty. I also used to work where that new building lurks at the rear of this shot, so mornings surrounded by the aroma of cooking pasties made for some seriously hungry staff come lunchtime.

NCN Route 3 crosses the dual carriageway (Morlaix Avenue) and then proceeds along a shared path along the Truro River, up the side of Tesco.

Hmmm... looking blurry...

NCN Route 3 travels out of Truro along the Newham Road until it reaches the quaintly named Gas Hill on the other side of the road, where it turns left into a car park half way up the hill, and through this gate at the end and onto the old Newham Branch line.

Newham sits beside the Truro River and along with Truro itself, was once a busy port, particularly in regard to the export of tin and also gunpowder produced in Idless Woods amongst other places.
The main railway line runs along high ground to the North of the city (up another flipping hill in other words...) so a branch line down into Newham was opened in 1855 for both freight and passenger services. The station closed in 1965 while freight services ended in 1971.
More information on the Newham branch, along with some superb photos, can be found on the Cornwall Railway Society site HERE

 When cycling between Truro and Falmouth you can brave the heavy traffic on the narrow and undulating main road, or tootle along here. I know which one I'd prefer.

The perils of Fatbike ownership! There I was, all set up for some ride past selfies when a fellow bi-wheeler arrived and wanting to know all about this strange bike I was riding. Depending on your outlook, a Fatbike can be a great way to meet people - a real conversation starter, or a pain in the neck, grabber of unwanted attention. Repeating the answers to the same old questions could get old rather quickly, but I don't mind too much in all honesty, and I'd rather exchange a few pleasantries with someone than just ignore them or be ignored.

On some parts of the trail vegetation has failed to overcome the ballast making for a wider path, but in other areas it narrows, although there is often still plenty of room to pass by simply taking to the grass.

Travelling to Falmouth, riders would leave the Newham line where it crosses Old Falmouth Road just above Calenick. Or you can carry on west towards County Hall, again, a far more pleasant way of circumnavigating the city by avoiding traffic and also a socking great hill.

 Some distance from the road lie the remains of a burned out caravan, possibly used by seasonal farm workers.

 Just about to cross the bridge over the lane that passes up alongside County Hall.

And the same bridge from the lane. The trail continues on and travels up the other side of County Hall (or the Chapel of Rest as it's sometimes known...) before emerging back into civilisation opposite Sainsbury's. A good trail for the bike riding supermarket shopper then.

Blurr time again.

The reason I didn't do the last section of the trail was  because I had decided to double back and get a photo of the view that everybody takes of Truro - well those travelling along the main road at any rate. Almost opposite the football ground, you have to be quick when travelling along by car as you only get a glimpse, but this is the view from the main road around Truro, and rather splendid it is too if big pointy buildings are your thing.

 Having got back into Truro, I had a run down Lemon Street into the city centre. The Moggy soft top might belong to the vicar of St John's, you never know. Last time I saw him he owned a bright red Mini with a white soft top roof (proper Mini that is, not the modern BMW heffalump version).

 Ok, so all the photos are turning out fuzzy now... The river passes beneath those phone boxes on the left, and the bollards on the right. That area to the right was once a busy Quay with some quite large sailing ships mooring up to exchange loads. The river though was/is a beggar for silting up, and also of course, the railway and then road traffic took work away from the port of Truro, and the quay here was covered over and is now a pedestrian area.
A photo of the quay when it was in use, and showing what is now the Hall for Cornwall (the building with the arches) can be found HERE 

Paris - Roubaix cobbles? Pfft! We have cobbles here in Truro too (I reckon they were put here to make my northerner neighbour feel at home...), don't know what all the fuss is about...

 Truro Cathedral is a bit of a Johnny come lately, a new build if you like, in comparison to other Cathedrals in this country, with work starting in 1880 and completion in 1910. It is one of only three Cathedrals in the UK with three spires, the tallest of which, the central jobbie, stands a chunky 250 feet high, or 76 metres in digital. Local granite was used for the main building work but some facings and the decorative bits were done in much softer Bath Stone. It's no surprise then, that despite the Cathedral being a bit of a youngster (barely out of warranty one suspects...) that heavy restoration work has been going on over the past few years. Being surrounded by far lower buildings, with the air being salty, and with the weather often travelling at high speed, various areas of stone work needed serious repair work, and for long periods, the whole building has been hidden behind scaffolding, in fact part of the Southern side still is.

I'm no expert on these places, as you may suspect, but it is a good looking building in my opinion, one of the more attractive, nicely proportioned, big Churchy things I've seen for sure.

Not being a Devil Dodger myself, this is about as close as I like to get to Churches n'stuff, lest I be struck down by a lightning bolt for being a non believer or something.

I did have a brief ride around Truro, but decided I'd wait until the summer season is over and then have a proper old mooch around when all is pretty much deserted. I much prefer town and city centres when there's nobody about and all is quiet, as it used to be at any time on a Sunday in Truro, but now, with the majority of shops open, it's almost just another day.

So I then headed homewards, leaving Truro via Daubuz Moor nature reserve and the lane to Idless, then through the woods and back to my home port of Trispen.

It is nice to have a route to and from the city through the woods, but in winter of course they are just a tad wet and muddy, and also, going home involves scaling the lung busting bad ass hill up out of Lanner Mill, so it's not always ideal, but on this occasion made for a pleasing ride home.

I've not been able to find out for sure, but I imagine the raised platform on the right in the above shot was a loading platform for the nearby gunpowder works.

All in all, the ride was just what the doctor ordered  - a relaxing way to spend a Sunday by having a carefree bicycle ride, one that as I say, I just made up as I went along and enjoyed what I found on the way, even though it was all familiar territory. Most of the time, I like to know what I'm doing and where I'm going, but just occasionally, simply following the front wheel wherever that takes me, makes for an extremely satisfying ride. 

No hurry, no hassles, no worry.

The crapmungous map of the ride. The Newham line lies between points 8 and 10 on here, point 9 is roughly where it crosses Old Falmouth Road.

The better map and other details can be found HERE

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