Monday Catch Up.

It's currently Monday morning on the 16^th October, and ex Hurricane Ophelia is roughing up the countryside a bit, but it's nothing out of the ordinary for Cornwall wind wise, so far at any rate, but the wind is due to strengthen further as the day goes on. We're on the edge of the huge spiral anyway, I pity those folk who aren't, namely in Ireland, they're in for a rough old time for sure, and I hope everyone stays safe wherever they are.

But for us down here in Cornwall, it's business as usual, and rather than panic and start boarding up the windows, I looked out and thought it was a good drying day so have got my washing done. It'll be dry in no time at this rate. It might end up three streets over, or stuck to the front grille of a Scania truck and finish up in Carlisle, but it will be dry.

The media has been full of memories of this very day thirty years ago when we had 'The Big Storm' of 1987, and of course a lot of people remember that day well. Me, I was trying to poke a double decker bus around the streets of Reading, and can well remember the slightly bum twitching feeling I felt when crossing an open piece of park land on top of a hill by Bulmershe College, and the bus starting to lean heavily to the right. It felt like it was going up on two wheels, but of course was nowhere near it, it was just the body being pushed over on the suspension, but I was still relieved to reach shelter at the end of the road. Hard to believe it was 30 years ago though.

This now ex Hurricane is named Ophelia, presumably after Bill Shakespeare's young Danish noblewoman character in Hamlet, who was known for her excessive, but enthusiastically delivered, pungent flatulence. 

The famous scene from Hamlet, Act IV scene V, where Ophelia dances with her consort before the King and Queen, and unwisely lets a particularly ripe one go. The King can clearly be seen regretting pulling Ophelia's finger...

Moving swiftly on, I'm also waiting for my shopping to be delivered, so a good opportunity to catch up on a couple of rides.

Thursday the 12^th saw a bit of a bimble round one of my usual loops. A chilly day, but also a sunny one. At least that's what the forecast had said, and indeed, the sun did come out now and then, so it wasn't too bad out and about for a ride. Trouble was I wasn't really feeling too enthusiastic at all, I made myself go out rather than wanting to go out, but in the end the tactic paid off, and eventually unwilling legs started to loosen up, and the mood picked up a bit too.

 The lane from Ladock Woods to Boswiddle looking a tad wintery already.

Boswiddle girls.

 Puffball Fungus clinging to the side of the bank near Boswiddle Ford.

Near Boswiddle Ford.

 The countryside isn't always quiet and tranquil. This is the water running off the road and onto the level below at Boswiddle Ford and it makes quite a din. But it's a good noise, quite an invigorating one in fact.

Autumn leaf at Boswiddle Ford.

There's a lot of Arboreal litter lying around at Boswiddle Ford, both from naturally felled branches and council pruning activities, so claiming salvage rights and finders keepers, I brought this lump home in my right pannier, to plonk in the back garden. Funnily enough I still made it up all the hills on the way home without any bother, but the downhills came with added gravity, and some top plunging was had.

Friday saw me feeling a bit more like it, so I'd planned a ride for the following day. Thus it was that I booted Fatso up the road on a very gloomy Saturday morning bound for the trails, tracks and Byways around the West Wheal Chiverton mine.

This is an area that offers all the good stuff that make rides enjoyable, so it's all familiar territory, as most of my rides are really.

Fatso in Truthan Lane. I actually had the back light on at this point, as it was just after 8am and still very gloomy.

It was to stay gloomy and dull all day, which made for some extra fuzzy high ISO photos (lazy boy here can't be bothered to get out the tripod sometimes...)

 To get to Zelah, I use a closed off lane that used to connect St Allen with the village, but is now dissceted by the main A30 which cuts across on an embankment, burying the lane in the process. The lane is still available to pedestrians and we bikers too, by means of steps up one side, crossing the A30, and steps down the other side to rejoin the old lane.

A good mountain biker would ride down these, especially one mounted on a Fatbike. I'm a coward though and don't want to risk hurting my back any more than is necessary so opt for the more boring, but safer, wheeling of the bike down the steps.

Flipping fuzzy upload again.

Fatso at the bottom of the steps. It is a bit of a struggle for me to negotiate all these steps, but it is actually preferable to reaching Zelah by road.

Arriving in the vicinity of the mine, I could've taken the byway that runs around the easterly and southerly sides of the site, but instead I turned right, dropped down the hill and then hung a left onto a marked footpath (ahem...) that runs up alongside a huge scar in the countryside. This area is Sandstone spoil I gather, and appears to have also been worked itself sometime in the past. A bit of a valley has been created in the hillside, and the remains of a shallow Adit uncovered. A stream runs down through this area, but by crikey you wouldn't want to fill your water bottle from it. You'd be setting off metal detectors for ages afterwards, there are all sorts of nasties lurking in the ground and on the surface at sites like this.

Now here's a crappy map of the area around the Wheal Chiverton mine. I rode along the tarmac lane at the top of the map before turning left onto the footpath at point A. I sometimes ride around the Byway marked on the map, but on this occasion, wanted to do some bush busting along that footpath.

 Right click and open in a new tab on any fuzzy photos to see them properly.

A couple of fly by selfies from slightly different positions, showing the top end of that wasteland.

Tyre tracks aren't mine, but belong to some locals on Motor Cross bikes.

The footpath I rode up is visible as that flat topped ledge on the very left of the shot, at about ten o'clock.

These timbers jutting out of the ground are supports from a shallow Adit, now exposed. I assume the erosion of the surface is the result of human extraction of the sandstone rather than natural erosion, but I really am only guessing.

I only had a brief mooch about the very top of this huge, desolate looking, scar on the landscape. I've yet to explore the rest of this barren area that is clearly visible on aerial mapping, but no doubt will at some point.

Instead I followed the footpath up through the thick bushes and trees that eventually lead to the old engine house of the mine, currently fenced off and thus preventing a closer poke about. It could be just for inspection purposes, to make sure gert lumps of granite or chimney brick don't drop on the heads of nosing folk below, or it could be something deep and deadly has opened up, as mine shafts are prone to do a lot these days.

 Following the footpath up the Westerly edge of the site makes for some good old bush busting fun.

Unfortunately the fine Batters Shaft engine house is currently out of bounds.

A lot of shafts were quite crudely capped by blocking the top just below the surface with timber then piling soil and stuff in on top. A lot of shaft locations are known and secured, a lot are not, and now, the timbers are rotting away and the shafts opening up. In some areas that were once intensively mined, the kids are warned not to play Hopscotch and you never stamp your feet to stay warm in winter either... 

Well I am joking of course. Or am I? CLICKY

Between 1859 and the mine's closure in 1886, The West Wheal Chiverton mine produced 45,100 tons of lead, 22,000 tons of zinc, and 1,221,200 ounces of silver. Copper ore was also raised, but in much smaller quantities. At its peak, nearly a thousand people worked at the mine.

The Batters Shaft engine house is unusual in having the chimney stack set in the middle of the end wall, rather than in a corner, and at one time was home to a huge 80 inch cylinder, beam pumping engine built by Harvey and Co of Hayle.

Mining in Cornwall of course went into a severe decline in the late 1800s, leading to huge numbers of closures, and the start of a mass migration of Cornish folk anywhere in the world where hard rock mining was carried out. Hence you can now find people in places like South America with very Cornish surnames like Penberthy, Rowe, Jago and Spargo. There's something very endearing about hearing of people with names like Juan Miguel Tregaskis.

 No need to lob the bike over that gate, or indeed through it, there is room beside that large lump of granite to the side of the gate to get past.

Leaving the mine, it was onto the Byway that skirts the southerly edge of the site for a short distance.

From the remains of the mine I had a short ride along a lane before hanging a right and disappearing through a hole in the hedge. This is actually a footpath through some woodland and always makes for a pleasant ride. It wasn't just me enjoying the tranquility along there though, as I met a young lady on a horse that was sporting a rather fetching Dayglo cap and ear covers (the cap was on the horse that is, not the rider...). Extra visibility on murky, grey days apparently to warn traffic of the presence of Dobbin and rider.

The footpath towards Cotton Springs.

Riding along these paths and byways, I can't help but wonder who walked them in the past, and in the case of the tracks round here, it's quite likely to have been mine workers travelling to and from work.

Old boy chooching along where once weary miners trod.

There are always some muddy sections along this path, and it was on these that things started to get a little unruly in the Fatso department. I've still got the tyres at a fairly high pressure, and big fat tyres and high pressures do not play well with mud at all. Bike and rider harmony was endangered a couple of times as the tyres skated about and felt like they were going in several directions at once. Thankfully an unplanned trip into the Rhubarb was avoided by judicious deployment of my left boot to the ground.

Memo to self: Let the bloody tyres down a bit you twerp!

At the end of that path I took to another Byway that passes through quite a deep ford at a place rather charmingly called Cotton Springs. As usual I couldn't resist releasing my inner nine year old and rode through the ford a number of times, before heading via the lanes to Zelah and thence back the way I'd come.

The footpath changes designation to Byway status as it heads towards Cotton Springs.

The view from the eyebrow cam on the Byway.

 The ford at Cotton Springs is deep everywhere, just a bit less so towards the left in this shot above.

Time for some fun!

Hello, just noticed my finger creeping into shot in the bottom right corner...

 Quick turn round on the other side...

 Get some speed up...

And bosh! Back through the ford we go.

I suspect all we cyclists who ride on the road have particular bends that we count as favourites for a bit of a hoon round. This is one of mine, and I always enjoy ear'oling round here, knee almost on the deck in the style of the late great Barry Sheene... Then I see a photo like this and realise I'm wobbling round barely off the vertical... doh...

Back to that lane twixt Zelah and St Allen, and here we are on top of the embankment that buried the old lane, having just crossed the hellishly busy A30. I grew a rather fine and bushy beard waiting for a gap in both directions big enough to let me dart across the road here, it was that busy. 

Bright orange Daf going East belongs to Conway Bailey Transport of Redruth, and one of their drivers has quite a good trucking vlog on YouTube (search for Mark Dring), should any truck buffs be wanting something to watch.

Almost home again and a very bright and colourful field at Truthan. 

Hmmmm... an even crappier looking map than usual.

Well there it is, the numbers don't relate to anything, but the full size jobbie, complete with graphs and stuff can be found HERE

The mapping site shows the ride at 10.8 miles whilst Fatso's computer recorded 13.3 miles - must be all that toing and froing through the ford...

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