Now riding on public footpaths in this country is considered a bit of a no-no. I'm not talking about the pavement here (or the sidewalk for those in the US) but those paths that strike out across fields and through woods going to places normal be-wheeled folk just cannot reach. Most of the footpaths around here are off limits to cyclists, not through legal obedience, but because they're too tricky to negotiate with a bike being riddled with awkward stiles and other obstacles, such as pedestrians.
There is one path locally however I will happily ride along, and that is a path that crosses my beloved Tregassow Lane. To one side of the lane, the path just disappears. It's supposed to run along the edge of a field, but there's no sign of it, and to be honest, it only cuts a corner off the road anyway, popping up on the adjoining lane.
On the other side of Tregassow Lane however, the path is very much navigable, all the way down to Tresillian in fact some two or three miles away. It changes status to Bridleway and Byway along its course too, but the section I rode is still classified as just footpath. Well knickers to that. The path is clearly an ancient thoroughfare, leading up from Tresillian and heading across country in the general direction of Ladock. The Tregassow Lane end has been used by farm vehicles too accessing fields but also the site of a shoot.
The appeal for me of this path is it's close to where I live, the landscape it passes through, and of great importance this, the feeling of remote wildness it conveys.
That Saturday morning I had a right old cob on, or as the Cornish say, I was a bit teasy, or even a bit 'snakey'. I was stressed out and grumpy as.... well you get the idea. I'd barely been upright in the day an hour but had already had the darned phone ring twice, and neither call was one I found particularly valuable, in fact, both calls just annoyed the hell out of me . How I haven't ripped that particular device out of the wall and hurled it through the window I don't know, and yes, I still have an old fashioned phone that plugs into a wall socket, no cordless jobs here.
There's only one way to escape such stress and general nutbaggery of course, and that is to beggar off on a bike somewhere, dick about a bit, take photos and generally get away from people!
Whoa! Vanity overload!
Manly man pose courtesy of trying out a new angle for the GoPro. Other than this 'steely eye on the horizon' catalogue pose shot, this set up didn't really work.
Not able to ride far, the Tregassow footpath beckoned as no better way of escaping it all so close to home.
The footpath at this time of year is very overgrown, but that is all part of the fun - busting through the waist high in places vegetation, brambles clutching at the bar ends, or dragging up my arms (post ride showers can often be stingy, ouchy, affairs...) and generally enjoying the thrill of having to maintain forward motion or suffer a scratchy, stabby, spill into the undergrowth. Some of those brambles are like razor wire - best avoided when throwing unplanned shapes and launching into the scenery.
The first part of the footpath is under trees, so making for easy wheeling.
Bare arms not always a good idea, blood was spilled...
It doesn't look bad in these photos, but in places the clawing vegetation almost dragged me to a halt.
The path emerges from under trees to run along the bottom edge of a hill. It was on that hillside that platforms stood for shooting types to blast away at Pheasants that had been kept in pens off to the other side of the path. I've never really understood the appeal of shooting Pheasants I must admit. Take a large, dull witted and slow moving bird and blast it with a gun that could hit all four corners of a barn door with one shot. Where's the skill in that eh? Let's see you hit a Swift with a sniper rifle or something, then I'll be impressed.
Paths like this can quickly remove all signs of the outside world as they envelope the adventurous cyclist walker (who may have to use a bike to reach the path... ahem...) in dense trees and undergrowth. Even traffic noise can be muffled and you can soon get the feeling of being miles from civilisation and the next human being, even if in fact you're not.
After a goodly belt through the greenery on the flat, the path then climbs through a load of thick fernery before levelling out very briefly under trees once more, then dropping down to a small clearing and a spring that joins the nearby Trevella Stream. This was as far as I was going to go on this occasion, but deep in the ancient wood, I spent a happy half hour or so in the clearing, just poking about and just sitting and listening, looking and taking in my surroundings.
Climbing the small hill through all the dense fernerage (I think I might've just made that word up. Bleddy good word though isn't it eh?)
Looking back down the path from the top of the hill. I've 'done' this footpath many, many times, and have never seen another soul on it.
Fatso bothering the youngish tree growing in the middle of the path. Banks either side are actually Cornish Hedges - earth banks faced with granite, and a sure sign of an ancient, and probably busy, thoroughfare.
Quite a large looking Burr or Burl on a long dead tree.
The small clearing and a sign pointing the way, but this was far as I was going on this occasion. Just out of shot to the left a small spring trickles and gurgles down over some rocks and roots before running into the nearby Trevella Stream.
Even in the height of what passes for our Summer the going under foot/tyre here is boot suckingly squelchy and claggy.
I won't be popular with the ramblers and walkers, but I do believe footpaths should be reclassified to allow cyclists to use them. There's a whole network of paths waiting to be explored by bike and not just by keen mountain bikery types, but families could enjoy outings along them as well in preference to sticking to the roads. Cyclists might also keep these paths open and navigable as well. Currently I believe, landowners can have paths closed off if they can prove a lack of use, and it'd be a shame if ancient trackways were lost to farming or just selfish greed.
Unfortunately, I can't see it happening, so we bikers will have to furtively pull our collars up and keep our heads down while enjoying them.
I was going to include yesterday's ride here, but I've already blathered on far too much, so will save that for another post all of its own.
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