It's been a mixed week or more for me bimble wise. Well, a blank week or more pretty much, thanks to a couple of the usual suspects health wise, the most guilty party being once again my back which has been giving me some serious grief. But things have calmed down once more and I have a couple of rides to report.
Fatso in a wet and grey Tregassow Lane.
Firstly, back last week I got out for a quick lap of my favourite loop on Fatso. This was the first ride on this bike since my trip to the beach and all seemed fine on that occasion. But on this little ride a few days later, all was not so well, as the brakes howled and squealed like hell. It was positively embarrassing meeting a car coming the other way I can tell you, and all the usual methods of ridding the brakes of a squeal failed miserably. I've just whipped the pads out and sanded them off although there were no obvious reasons for all the wailing present, like grains of sand on the pad's braking surfaces, or bits of sea weed, the odd Carp maybe or perhaps a Crab or two caught in the calipers. I have cleaned the rest of the bike as well, so we'll see (hopefully tomorrow all being well) if silent braking has been restored.
Blimey... Steady on...
Always a sad sight.
It was a week before I could get on a bike again, yesterday as it happens, and I duly, and carefully, sallied forth for a good old ride around.
It was a lovely morning out as well, bright and sunny, but also chilly too, and bozzing down the hill out of the village the backs of my hands had me wondering if fuller gloves might've been a wise choice, but it was still earlyish, and with the temperature bound to increase as the day unfolded, I courageously carried on. I'm hard, me.
Treworgan Vean, just over the A39 from St Erme. Vean is Cornish for small or most likely in this case, 'Little', as there is a bigger farm called just Treworgan just up the road.
The ride was turning out to be all very pleasant as I pottered along, reveling in the braking power afforded by the new pads I'd just fitted front and back as I descended one of the long hills round these parts. I don't know why, but when it comes to tyres and brake pads, I always prefer to change them as a full set rather than just what is needed at that point. So despite the front brakes still having some meat on them, I'd replaced them at the same time as I had the rears (the old rear pads were utterly dickered, all traces of pad material were long gone. Oops... That'll explain the scraping noises alright...).
Curly things growing by the roadside. No idea what they are though.
Hayup, it's Bluebell time!
These flowers are nothing special, being a bit middle of the road.
Highlight of the ride without a doubt was the sight of the first Bluebells popping up on the verges, and it was while messing about trying to photograph one such flower, that I looked up to see a cyclist bombing down the hill towards me. "My word that must be some sort of novelty rucksack he's wearing, like those Shaun the Sheep ones or whatever, it looks like... an inflatable doll?! What the... Ah... No. It turned out to be a couple on a tandem enjoying a good ride, it was just their angle of approach made things look a tad odd at first. And my brain being on standby too of course.
In Idless, there are two turnings one can take, the first one, and, well, the second one. On this occasion, I took the second one even though it would mean a little extra mileage, but it would also enable some easy wheeling along the shared path into Shortlanesend, which is always a nice ride to make.
Lovely display of Gorse on the lane up from Idless.
Warning to drivers that a bike might be crossing the road ahead.
And this is the path those bikes would be using - the shared path between Truro and Shortlanesend. Very nice on such a glorious day it is too, but...
Saying that though, 95% is nice, it's just the last bit as you reach the village that is now a bit grotty. What once was a field full of mooeys, is now an estate full of new build anonoboxes, protected from sight by a socking great temporary wall. So the last bit of the ride is a claustrophobic affair, and decidedly unpretty.
To the right used to be more open fields and a view across the valley back to Idless Woods on the opposite hillside. Now though we find this fugly wall and behind, yet more houses being thrown up.
Here is the entrance, and just a small part of the estate that's going up. I hope those blue coloured places aren't finished and won't end up that colour...
I'd be going past another load of new builds on this ride, and in the same village too, although the second lot are now "Resident populated" as I heard one developer describe the status of another estate's houses on the telly recently. What he actually meant was 'occupied'. There may be more such guffspeak to come...
But more flipping houses though. The local telly news this week has been alive with the story of how 5,000 plus homes are planned for one of these 'Garden villages' or whatever name they give for a large estate these days. This lot are up in Devon, but honestly, 5,000 houses all in one place, on the edge of an established small town (think it is Tiverton). Best hope all the services can accommodate all the people/cars/traffic/waste and all that jazz. We seem to be giving away land, and habitat, far too cheaply these days though for my liking. It's no wonder wild bird/Hedgehog/general wild critter populations are in free fall, and places keep getting flooded all over the shop. Vast swathes of countryside are disappearing in a frenzy of building, and it just doesn't seem right. I know we need houses, apparently, but there are plenty of alternatives available before deciding to obliterate great tracts of our green and pleasant land.
Now, where was I before I went off on one? Ah yes, the village of Shortlanesend (Glad I don't live there, having to type/write/spell out that word all the time). Now Shortlaneswotsname not only boasts a shared path, and a handy Bridleway, but a nature reserve as well. So as I was passing, I sprayed myself with Leopard repellent (My teacher at Primary School said Leopards are spotted all over, so you never know when you might see one...) and preparing myself to be amazed at the abundance of wildlife, I warily rode in. I'd have to take my chances should I encounter any Lions or Tigers, Boots the Chemist didn't have any repellent sprays for them when I went into town last week.
Well that's all a bit dull, where are all the Giraffes n'stuff at?
Hmmmm... Nothing much happening here...
Well, it must've been the animals day off or something, as it was all a bit dull. Not even a willy shaped plant to gawp and snigger at, never mind the sort of scary hairy beast I've seen in such reserves on the telly munching on a Wildebeest or mating couples banging away like a Salvation Army drum in front of the cameras and assembled tourists. Nope, none of that, just some stagnant water and assorted twigs, sticks and brambles. Very poor show I think.
Uh oh... snakes! It's alright though, I had my bike clips on...
Well the old car tyre that was lurking in this pond has gone, only to be replaced by an old beer bottle.
So putting disappointment to one side, I headed off along the lanes that lie to the north east of Truro, that are notable only for the number of fords to be found, and the wariness that some motorists tackle them with. Granted, one or two are wide, or deep, or wide and deep, and fast moving too, but for a good display of timid driving, these fords are hard to beat, as various motorists inch their way into them, the water barely reaching the writing on the tyres, before driving across, peering over the bonnet presumably looking out for fishing boats or something, I don't know. Now also there are plenty of folk who really do not know how to drive through deeper water, and they bomb straight in, the engine sucks in a gallon or two and that's the con rods bent like bananas. But a couple of these fords barely warrant the name, being little more than puddles in the road, but still some folk seem scared of them.
About to dip the tyres in one small ford, just visible on the left.
Now this ford at Treworder is a little bigger, and it is also by far the prettiest in my area.
Oh and that leany thing in the background? That's a tree that is, and it has been pitched at that precarious angle over the road for well over a year. It's propped up by a large earth bank, and if the roots are still in the ground at the nearside, it may actually live. It certainly looked alright as I ducked underneath it.
Oh and that leany thing in the background? That's a tree that is, and it has been pitched at that precarious angle over the road for well over a year. It's propped up by a large earth bank, and if the roots are still in the ground at the nearside, it may actually live. It certainly looked alright as I ducked underneath it.
Pretty as a picture.
Hmmmm, definitely a moany theme going on here... and I bet there's more to come too...
Surely these 'try your brakes' road signs beyond fords are irrelevant these days, what with disc brakes n'all. Never mind that, but my kitchen floor has been wetter than that when I wash the bikes... call that a ford... pah!
Anyway, after some top trundling about in the sunny lanes, I found myself dicing with death on the lane that leads up to the back of the Royal Cornwall hospital at Treliske. You know you're getting close (well at least a mile away to start with) when every gateway, verge or passing space has a car wedged in it. It wouldn't surprise me at all if a local Badger didn't return to his sett one morning to find a car parked in it. But it's not the parked cars that make the problem for we gallant bi-wheelers, it's the drivers rat running through these lanes at unwise speeds that are the issue. I don't know how many accidents there are in that lane but some folk belt round the narrow blind corners like they're in a Scalextric race.
If this was a scratch and sniff photo, you'd be getting the aroma of Rothmans by now, this being where the hospital staff skulk off to for a quick puff.
I used to know my way around the hospital's roads, or rather, road singular, but that was then and this is now, and the hospital has grown a tad, and is now surrounded by a maze of roads and accessy bits. I knew where I wanted to go, and thought I'd be a clever dick and nip through the grounds instead of going the long way round, but all I did was get lost. I saw the back end of all sorts of buildings, including the mortuary (Private Ambulance indeed, who are you trying to kid, it's a meat wagon for picking up the dead peeps... You're not fooling us, or the old peeps in the old folk's homes when you rock up to the back door.) which looked alarmingly busy it must be said.
Knowledge Spa my backside! What flavour of 'right on' nitwit came up with that name for the teaching bit of the hospital. Knowledge Spa indeed. But, not to be outdone, I'm following the lead and named this blog entry the Guff Puddle, and it suits it quite well actually.
More signs all over the shop of course, including that flaggy thing proclaiming the area to be a smoke free site. Best not light any bonfires while I'm passing through then.
Ah now, look closely at that illuminated sign showing 10 mph... I did that! Yep, it lit up and started flashing 'Slow Down!' followed by the 10 mph sign. I looked behind me to see if an ambulance or something was triggering the panic, but no, it was all my own work, despite showing a meagre 7.5 mph on the speedo. Made my day did that, I've never triggered one of those flashy things before... Makes me proud it does.
Still a smoke free zone look, it says so on the huge sign on the end of the building on the left... I think flatulence in the grounds might be more of an issue judging by the need for a windsock... No hiding the fact you've just farted round here!
Still a smoke free zone look, it says so on the huge sign on the end of the building on the left... I think flatulence in the grounds might be more of an issue judging by the need for a windsock... No hiding the fact you've just farted round here!
Continuing my rebellious streak...
Eventually though, I found the way out and made my way to the Coosebean Greenway, a newish and rather excellent, shared path linking the city centre with the busy western outskirt of town. This path is cycling perfection, especially heading into town and therefore down the guffing great hill. But anyway, it is wide, reasonably scenic given its proximity to civilisation, and boasts tarmac as smooth as smoke from a cigar, which makes for some great bend swinging as you swoop down the hill, eyes streaming and keeping a wary eye out for pedestrians. Good job that path wasn't there when I was a kid hooning about on my good old ten speed, that's all I can say.
Oh hell... Blurry upload time again... Grrrr...
Anyway, on the Coosebean Greenway GP track shared path. One of these between my home village and town would do nicely thank you (and there is an ongoing movement to get one too).
A brief tangle with the 'burbs and then it was back on the country lanes to Idless, then home via the woods which were tackled with a little more caution this time, what with me being on the Voodoo again, and the memory of a near prang last time I rode it through there still being fresh in my mind.
More laneside Bluebells on the way back to Idless.
Bimbling past, I caught sight of this unmarked path and threw out the anchors. I thought I knew where it might come out, so threw caution to the wind and headed off down it. I was right too, as it it comes out where I suspected. I thought I had taken more photos down this path, using the GoPro, but there was nothing on the memory card, so I hope it was my cock up and not an issue with the camera.
All in all, a bit of an unremarkable ride, but still a very pleasant one, and all being well, I'm off in the morning with my neighbour for a joint Fat Attack on part of the Camel Trail, so that'll be good.
Back lane beauty. Climbing the hill back out of Lanner Mill.
As for now, it's nearly time for
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