Thursday 17 August 2017

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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