Saturday 24 February 2018

Bridleway Bimbling in the Sunshine - Lots of Photos.

With mind and body finally getting back to what passes for best fitness these days I've got my riding mojo well and truly back, so bouyed up by the recent couple of rides, I plotted a longer route with some off roading thrown in, rather than just pottering around my usual loop once again.

I had planned to do this ride earlier in the week, made all the preparations the night before, got up next morning and got togged up in my finest scruffy riding clothes but just didn't feel like it on the day. Yet within hours of of deciding to stay home I was regretting it, so made plans once again to get out come Thursday just gone, and on that occasion I had no such doubts, and was up and out of the house like a well kicked cat (after coffee mind you, a man needs coffee of a morning).

The plan was to do a big (for me and my modest legs) old loop taking in a couple of sections of road and also Bridleway that I've only ridden once before (and on separate occasions, and on different bikes...) and one completely new to me bit of country lane - a bit of an adventure then! It's an exciting life...

Anyway, Thursday was a beautiful day for riding, dry and sunny but chilly to start with - indeed there were signs of frost on the roof of my shed first thing, but once again there was a bit of a wind blowing, but not hard enough to ruffle one's bouffant much.
I set off thinking to myself 'first stop - Probus' as I do spend a lot of time faffing about and thought I'd get a move on for a change. But, barely a mile under Fatso's wheels had passed before I was pulling up and setting up the tripod for a ride by selfie, as the lane up to Four Turnings from Trevella Stream was looking very photogenic in the morning sunshine.

Selfie time.

Selfies done and all packed away once more it was across the tops of the flatlands beyond Four Turnings (no hedges and the fields worked right up to the roadside) before dropping down to Riverside, then hanging a left and immediately grimacing and groaning up the ugly hill before the brake cooking descent down towards Truck Fork and Probus.

First bit of the route but the map is downsized a bit to fit the page, and hence a tad fuzzysome.

Point B on the above map, and the Truck Fork area where the Ladock Road (the road shown 'ere) meets the Probus Road (behind me). That's the mainline from Paddington to Penzance running above the road, and if you look closely, that train has actually got some passengers on it!
I wasn't taking the main road up into Probus on this occasion though, I was taking the narrow country lane that runs parallel instead, much nicer.

Looking back the way I'd just come, from The Square in Probus, which is actually a Triangle, but still. Now once again, at my end here on my PC this photo looks fuzzy as hell, and if it does at your end too, just right click and open in a new tab. I have been told though that the photos look fine on other folk's computers so it might just be my end.

Fatso, the Jubilee Lamp in Probus and a Corvid.
The lamp was erected to commemorate the Diamond Jubilee of Queen Victoria in 1897, and given its slightly vulnerable position, it's amazing it has lasted this long without being scat down by a drunk driver or some other random hazard.

From The Square it's a short ride through the village out to, and briefly over the busy A390 to reach the first bit of Bridleway.

Hmmm... some very odd things went on with this map when saving the image, duplicated labels for a start - what's that all about? Anyway, The Square is where the 'S' of Probus is in't map, and the first bit of Bridleway was what used to be an old country lane that runs parallel to the main A390.

A quick hop over the main road then left through a gate and onto this old country lane.

Another view of the Bridleway and it all looks peaceful enough, but in fact there is the constant roar of passing traffic on the adjacent main road to the left.

It's a bit of a mini roller coaster to ride as the Bridleway climbs slightly then dips a couple of times, usually with mud and/or puddles in the dips to make things interesting.
By now I was really relaxing into the ride and enjoying myself Immensely, which after recent weeks was just what I needed. The healing power of a ride on a bike eh!

The Bridleway finally climbs up alongside some woods on the edge of the Trewithen Estate (you can tell it's that estate due to all the fences/watch towers/gun emplacements,* and in particular all the signs - 'No Trespassing!' 'Private!' and 'Bugger off' etc. At the top it's through a gate and then out onto the A390, albeit only briefly.
*Ok, there aren't actually any watch towers or gun emplacements, but it wouldn't surprise if there were...

A quick mash of the pedals down the A390 and then it's time to hang a right into the Trewithen Estate entrance but then immediately a left to find the start of the second Bridleway.

The estate signwriter must be a busy chap, they do like a good sign there.
Anyway, time to get my feet wet and open this large gate and get off roading!

This section of Bridleway along the edge of the Trewithen Estate used to be a Turnpike road belonging to the Truro Turnpike Trust that was formed in 1754 to collect tolls to pay for the upkeep of the main routes to and from the city. This Turnpike went east through Grampound as far as Lostwithiel, but I wouldn't be going that far - they're a funny lot in Lostwithiel, best avoided. Mind they're a funny lot in Grampound too...

This bit of the ride is one of those that I'd ridden previously, just the once, and on the Voodoo. That grass may look easy riding, but in truth it is quite lumpy and bumpy in places, waterlogged too. Compared to the Voodoo, Fatso just breezed along here, not suffering the jolting, jarring wheel deflections and bumps caused by horse divots and the like.

This fuzzmungous map shows the course of the Bridleway, where it is joined by an estate road, then crosses a country lane (point 6) before heading down into Grampound, joining 'Old Hill' down into the village itself.


In the map above, you can probably just make out a 'photogenic tree' marker pointing to a bit of the Bridleway (the pointing lines are thin as a slice of wind so hard to see...).
Well, this is that tree, and ain't it a beauty. I couldn't decide whether it was shot best alone or with Fatso reclining gracefully, so did both, and still can't decide, so have included both.
This part of the Bridleway leaves the lumpy grass and joins an estate track.

Where the Bridleway crosses the lane that leads down towards Tregony, there is this mirror, which is rather oddly placed well away from the actual road. This placing is a bit of a puzzle so I thought I'd better look into it, and on reflection, I still don't know exactly why it's where it is. Oh well. Yes, you can see along the lane a bit, but you can see just as far when you actually get up to it, so it's a mysterious mystery for sure.

Cross the lane and the Bridleway once again is well maintained and hard packed, making for some easy wheeling. This section is used by farm vehicles accessing the farm at Carvossa.



Just Bimbling along in the sunshine...

You're never far from a Spinamathing in the countryside these days, and this area is no exception. Those turbines over the hill are flipping whoppas too by the look of them.

Getting closer to where the farm track splits off to the right, and the Bridleway is starting to get muckier.

Once past the farm, well, things get decidedly wetter and sloppier. But who cares! This is all part of the fun and I'd much rather be plugging along here in the sunshine than hacking along some road being battered by passing traffic.


Progress was slow on this ride, not due to the riding conditions, but due to me continually stopping to hang my nose over a gate, or fence or whatever, to take in the view and just immerse myself in the moment. There are some good views to be had along here, although they don't show up well in photos unfortunately.

I don't know anything about trees I must admit, but normally they grow like this when they're in gert big clumps (or stands as I believe the correct Arboreal term is) as they reach up to get the light. Lone trees normally spread out nearer the ground, so maybe this one had company that has long been lost, or maybe this particular flavour of tree grows like that anyway...

The going got a bit sketchy...
I took this as a joke, but over on Flickr I do wonder if some people think my attempts at 'art' were serious...



S'alright, plenty of room to the side, so no need to test my bunny hopping skills out.

After a good ride along the flat, the Bridleway starts to drop between high hedges down towards Grampound. There isn't much too see on this last section, and even less to photograph, thanks to those hedges. The last few yards of off road are potentially booby trapped, taking one over some very smooth bare rock, which in the wet, or in my case, with muddy tyres, makes for some slippery going and much care needed with the front brake, it being on a very steep down hill.
Once onto Old Hill it's a short drop down into the village of Grampound and over the River Fal and up into the village itself.
Grampound takes its name from the Norman French 'Grand' (great) and 'Pont' (bridge) but has obviously been corrupted a bit over the years to become Grampound.

Back on the A390 again and looking up Fore Street in Grampound, East towards St Austell.

Strung out up the hill as it is, it's a pretty village alright, but the road is a busy beggar (I time my photos to exclude traffic as best I can!). I see they have the same crap bus shelters as we have in my village too...


Halfway up the hill are St Nun's Church on the left, and the town hall and clock on the right, with the Market Cross in the middle. 
The Church is a pocket sized affair, jammed in there as it is, and a mere youngster too, being built in 1869 (Truro Cathedral is a pup as well, being even younger, having been built between 1880 and 1910). 
The clock on the town hall there is correct, and it was indeed lunchtime, but I wasn't watching the time but instead just enjoying being out and taking as long as I liked as I pootled and pottered along.
Grampound was the Calor Village of the Year for the West of England for 2007/8 and it does have quite a sense of community about it from what I've heard. Not a bad place to live at all, apart from that main road that is.
Why it's a town hall in a village I don't know...

Looking back down the hill towards Probus. That's the Market Cross on the right that is. He in't bent like that in real life, that's just the camera doing that, but where the actual cross is I don't know - I haven't got it, he's nuthin' to do with me, honest. The cross dates back to the 15th Century apparently, and it is a Grade II listed building.
I wasn't travelling any further up this hill on this ride, but was going up the lane (the oddly named Pepo Lane) that is seen emerging from the right. A new to me bit of road this, a lane I've never been along before - whoop!

Very pleasant the lane was too. I was only following Pepo lane for a short distance before turning off left as ultimately I wanted to be heading back towards home. Plenty of daylight left in the day - another sure sign of Spring coming, but not so much left in the body, as I don't eat immediately before, or on, a ride, and by now could just start to feel the beginnings of some tiredness setting in.

Heading North out of Grampound I left Pepo Lane just before point 8 above heading for the hamlet of Trenowth. These maps are bugging me! Where has that random 'Trenowth' label come from, hovering in the middle of nowhere like that... Grrr... the real Trenowth is the one at the top of the map at point 9.

It'd be a crime to rush along lanes like these!

High hedges are a pain sometimes! Great when the weather is bad and you want some shelter from a raucous wind, but not so hot when they tease you with a glimpse of a view but make getting a better look rather difficult. 
On this occasion the hedges were steep and without hand or foot holds to make scaling them easy. Finally though, after much searching, I found a critter hole in the bank, and so after apologising to whatever was slumbering within, I stuck my foot in the hole, heaved myself up on one leg and with my other knee stuck in the bank could just manage to get this shot of the view ahead. The viaduct (the Paddington mainline again)  is at Trenowth and in the distance is one of the Cornish Alps - the China Clay spoil heaps that used to be pointed like proper Alps, but a few years ago, the tops were lopped off, presumably for safety reasons (less chance of a landslide I imagine).

Getting near Trenowth.

Trenowth. On the right was a drying kiln for the China Clay industry but was in use apparently as an agricultural store until 2003 when the roof was destroyed by fire. That's all I can find on the net, but it looks like rebuilding is taking place, presumably once again for agricultural use.

The rather tranquil lane towards the village of Grampound Road where it passes the edge of Trenowth Wood. 
It was around here that I noticed I had only done about nine miles, yet had been out for some four hours! Now that is some quality Bimbling right there! Always the sign for me of a good ride that is - lots of time spent covering bugger all miles! It might even be a personal best for me that...

I wasn't going into Grampound Road itself, but nipping across the top bound for Ladock and home.

Arriving in Ladock. A quick right and then a left and...

... over the Tresillian River and I'm on the lane towards home.

Leaving Ladock I only had a few miles to go before home, but the lane in question features two big lumps of geology that need huffing and puffing up, and on this day, they certainly took their toll as I found myself struggling more than I'm used to on this road.
AS ever, having reached Five Turnings I opted for the longer route home, as I usually do when coming from that direction, to avoid another climb up the narrow lane past Trevella Stream. I happily ride down that hill, less happily (and very rarely) up it.

By the time I reached home I knew I was almost cooked. My legs were running out of power and I was feeling a bit weary. No doubt I could've gone on as I have done longer/further rides without issue, I imgine it's just the relative lack of riding since Christmas that has taken its toll (and putting on a few pounds too -whoops!). I also didn't have anything to drink with me - no water bottle, no kettle for a coffee... Silly man!

Now I have a confession to make. I have a Chicken Noodle Soup habit - I'm addicted to the stuff and have been for some while, but I've recently had my head turned by another simmer soup, and it is just the job for after a cold ride:

I'm a huge fan of Knorr's Chicken Noodle and also Minestrone simmer soups, but have recently discovered this, and boy is it a keeper for the winter. Thick? You could walk a mouse across it, and it is very tasty indeed and just the job for reviving the tired winter bimbler. Serves 4? I don't think so! I have the lot I do - lovely jubbly!

So that was a very enjoyable 17 miles of sunny, tranquil and interesting bimbling about, and thankfully, my back held up without a single twinge or ache, a real relief after the recent weeks of constant pain from it. 

Personally, I think those cyclists, whether roadies or mountain bikers, who hibernate for the winter are missing out big time on some spectacular weather and scenery. The soft sunshine is far more agreeable than the searing heat of summer and the views every bit as splendid, even more so perhaps, than in warmer months. Not so much fun when it's cold wet and windy granted, but on days like this one it is an absolute pleasure drifting about the countryside, even if the bike does need a good clean afterwards!

A rather poor map of the entire ride, but a fuller version (from a different source) can be found HERE

I'm now going to upload this before checking it for spolling and grimmar so apologies for any mistooks in it, but I'm late for my evening scoff - this post has been a bit of an epic and took longer to put together than it did to ride!

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Wednesday 21 February 2018

A Big Rant and a Couple of Rides.

Well after my last ill advised ride in the rather less than exciting snow we had recently, my back recovery was set back rather, as what had been an improving spine got the hump with my rash decision to give it some work to do, and decided to go back to giving me grief again. So that wasn't much fun, but once again some intensive rest and much downing of Paracetamol saw things recover enough to enable me to get back in the saddle recently. So that was good, as I was starting to climb the walls what with being stuck at home and somewhat immobile. 

It's never fun being stuck home and unable to do much - for some folk it means being curled up on the sofa watching daytime telly, but I just can't bring myself to do that, and I haven't got a sofa anyway. So I spend the time on the internet usually, and once my usual haunts have been checked for updates, and checked again, I tend to wander off and investigate what is going on in the wider world.

Well it appears this country at least, is going to hell, it really is. Nothing to do with Brexit though, but everything to do with the professionally offended virtue signalling Snowflakes and their rabid Political Correctness. 

Nothing it seems, is safe from these self absorbed, self important, attention seeking morons who pump themselves up full of self righteousness and take to Twitter and Facebook to wage hashtag war on some business, individual or even history, and who wimperingly take to their 'safe spaces' as soon as someone with a differing opinion comes along in case they become traumatised. 

By crikey my patience has been sorely tested by the daily reports of self entitled imbeciles whining about something new that really is none of their business. What really grinds my knackers though is why these wet dipshits are pandered to, why don't businesses just say something like "Thank you for bringing our attention to the boys T-Shirt we sell with the slogan 'Dad's Little Helper' and your concerns that it is gender stereotyping. We have spent five seconds thinking about the matter and concluded your opinion is irrelevant and stupid, and you would be better served moving on with your life and worrying about something that is actually important. In short, f*ck off and mind your own business."

The trouble seems to be everyone is so scared of being called out on Social Media that they have to give in to these cretins and give them what they want - validation by way of an apology and the offending item being taken off sale or whatever. 

What sort of person thinks they have the right to go through life without being offended by such petty irrelevancies as are being brought up on a daily basis by these spinally deficient idiots? What would their ancestors, who lived through real hardship, wars and so on, and who these vacuous morons have to thank for bringing them into this world, think of their great great grandsons and grand daughters and the 'hardships' these snowflakes now find so distressing?

Oh and what the hell is going with gender these days? I cannot count how many stuffs I don't give what gender someone is or thinks they are that day - be whoever or whatever you want, I really don't mind, nor care actually, it's none of my business, just don't expect me or anyone else to somehow magically guess what the correct way to address you on that particular occasion is. 

In an ideal world there wouldn't need to be Political Correctness, it wouldn't be a 'thing' at all if everyone treated each other with respect and good manners. But it isn't an ideal world and never will be, so it's only right and proper that certain issues are addressed, but, as with Health and Safety, some idiots take the idea and run with it, as far and as fast as they can, and what a joyless, empty flipping world we are potentially creating as a result. I pity kids of today and the beige, bland future that awaits them unless the tide of moral outrage can be turned and commonsense rediscovered. 

The worst bit of all this is that here I am getting wound up and offended by these people, just as they are getting offended by white people with dreadlocks and whatever else it is they are whining about yesterday, today, and tomorrow... That makes me one of them... Aaaarrrrgggghhhhh!!!

Grrrrr....

Anyway, rant over, let's restore some much needed balance, (things aren't actually as bad as they might seem... I do realise that, well, so far anyway) think happy thoughts, and get back to a bit of quality Bimbling.

Good news! Spring is... erm... Springing!

Whoop! Reasons to be cheerful - part one: The Daffs are starting to flower. 
Soon the countryside will be awash with bright yellow vibrancy as the commercial grower's efforts come to fruition along with the freelance wild jobbies that highlight the verges and hedges along the lanes. The flowering of the Daffodils is always a sign of better times just around the corner.

After being stuck indoors so long with my temper slowly coming to the boil, it was great last Thursday to get out again at last and go for a potter in the rural sunshine. There was quite a fresh breeze blowing mind you, but t'was a friendly one - a South Westerly, not the eye watering, bitingly cold Northerlies or Easterlies we've been suffering of late (last time out I saw a bloke trying to break his dog off a lamppost it was that cold...) 



Part of the beauty of bimbling about lanes like these is their ability to relieve you of the concept of time. I don't feel dressed without a watch, and even continue to wear one when it isn't working, and also as an ex bus driver, I have a pretty well developed sense of passing time. Normally that is. 
But once I'm on the bike and enjoying the sun on my face and the breeze on my knees, (oh good grief that was cheesy) then all consciousness of time usually falls by the wayside and I can lose whole hours while bimbling about - suddenly realising my growling stomach is telling me it's lunchtime when it felt more like eleven am or something.


This old boy, a tripod no less, isn't usually bothered when I ride through the middle of Hay Farm near Boswiddle, and he usually barely registers my presence as he lies napping in the road, but on this day, for some unknown reason, he got the hump with me and started making a right old song and dance, barking and howling as if his nuts were being crushed in a vice or something. Yonder mooey was less than impressed by this outburst too by look of it.

Space to breathe.


The compulsory stop at Boswiddle Ford.

Hmmmm... what went on here that left a couple of feathers atop the wall I wonder. Probably just a gust of wind that blew them there...

View from the footpath that dodges round the ford at Boswiddle.
As ever, if a photo looks blurry, right click and open in a new tab sorts it out.

Thursday was obviously National Barky Dog Day as entering the hamlet of Penhale I encountered another shouty pooch. But this one was having some sporting fun, his furiously wagging tail being a give away, as was the 'chase me - chase me' way he took off and then returned a couple of times while I was lining up a photo. If their tail is down between their legs then I'm much more wary of a barking dog, this one was up for playing some games though.

Reasons to be cheerful - part two: The Primroses (or 'First Roses' apparently) are also starting to appear. Also known as Primula Vulgaris, which sounds a bit unfair for such a pretty, brightly coloured, flower. But then I moved in closer to get a better shot and it hissed menacingly "Piss off big nose" at me...

Not so welcome a sight on the roadside is all the litter. I've often brought odd bits home with me that I've come across when stopped for a photo or whatever, but now I've decided to go out and actually pick litter up along the lanes properly. I'll be using the bigger panniers from the old Clatterbus Carrera, and just this morning, a cheap long reach grab/litter picker thing arrived in the post. Litter has always bugged me, and my opinions of those who chuck crap about are best not repeated here, so it's time I did something about it locally. It'll give me something useful to do as well, seeing as I'm not working at the moment. Not every ride will be a litter picker, just now and then I'll head out with the sole intention of scooping up some crap.

Last shot for this particular ride and a peaceful rural scene. Well it looks that way, but that turbine was going like the clappers in the strengthening wind and making some quite dramatic swooshing noises.

Encouraged by completing a trouble free ride and invigorated once more by the great outdoors I headed out again last Saturday, this time on Fatso, for a mooch down through Idless Woods and into the Hamlet of Idless itself.

I love this tree at Treworgan Vean at this time of year, but it's a beggar to get a decent photo of. Another sunny morning though, the better days are starting to outnumber the grotty ones at last.

More Primrosery colour, and this one much more fetching than the more common yellow variety. The bank on the opposite side of the road is full of yet to flower Daffodils so it will truly be a blaze of colour along here shortly.


I don't normally like laying my bikes down, and that is why I carry a collapsible walking stick with me to act as a prop, but sometimes sheer laziness gets the better of me and Fatso gets to lie down.
I've just added Ergon grips to this bike to match those fitted to the Marin and Jamis. I'll be getting some for the Voodoo soon too as they are a very worthwhile addition in my opinion, making for a very comfortable grip.

I took the main central path through the woods on this occasion, as my last outing along the upper and then lower paths made for some very boggy going and cycling in several directions at once at times as well.
This path is hard packed and has a pronounced camber to each side so drains really well. Not only do bike and rider stay much cleaner but I don't leave big tyre tracks through the countryside either.

Looks quiet doesn't it. It's typical though that as soon as I set up the tripod and camera for some selfie action, so loads of people and their dogs showed up and I waited ages to get a clear shot. I did meet several friendly dogs though, they're always fascinated by my gear and bike on such occasions and like to have a good sniff around. The main thing is to try and stop the beggars cocking a leg over my camera gear or bike though...

Reasons to be cheerful, part three: The Snowdrops are out! (of course). Now Snowdrops are a domesticated escapee apparently, and where you find 'wild' Snowdrops you'll also find a garden or two nearishby, or so I've read. So anyone who gets utterly lost and finds some Snowdrops, well they can be followed in a line more or less towards salvation.

At the same location is the old Scawswater Sawmill that is thankfully preserved and given a new lease of life as a residential property. The river is the River Allen.


More Snowdrops at the same location, and sure enough, they do stretch along the roadside away from the garden of a rather posh house on the edge of Idless. So I could've followed them on my hands and knees if necessary to get help. Or just followed the road they are beside, that would work too...

That was it photographically for that ride as the photos I took subsequently were a bit crap so rattled the Windows Recycle Bin within seconds of them transferring from the memory card.

So it's been good to get back in the saddle and poking my nose about again, and the emergence of Spring flowers really gives the spirits a much needed lift after such a wet and windy Winter. A much needed antidote to all the perceived hassles and wretchedness of modern life too - a very effective balance and perspective restorer! To hell with all the dickwit fugnuggets, social justice warriors and PC snowflakes, leave 'em to it, I've got all this countryside to enjoy right on my doorstep, and when I'm out in it all the professionally offended become as irrelevant as their stupid opinions, and that is a very good thing indeed.

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