Back Road Brambles.

"Blackberries, Sloes, Sorrel and even Blueberries and wild Strawberries are out there in the rural larder. The pleasure of collecting your own food, then taking it home and making it into a crumble or Sloe Gin, or Sorrel and Nettle soup, is intense indeed. You have completely sidestepped the need to work and earn money, and the whole process has been a joy from beginning to end. You have glimpsed a world of true autonomy and freedom." - Gathering Food From The Hedgerows, The Book of Idle Pleasures, by Dan Kieran and Tom Hodgkinson.

The last time I went Blackberrying I would think I was in short trousers, it was that long ago. But a Sunday evening phone conversation with my sister who lives up where the locals talk funny (Bristol - funny lot they are...) pricked my interest in revisiting something I'd done many times as a 'tacker' (snotty nosed kid), but not since, having decided that supermarkets presented the safest option for getting food rather than picking wild growing things that could delight, or possibly kill, or even and far worse, give me the trots for a week.

Yesterday, Tuesday, my back had recovered enough for me to get out and do some manly hunter gathering, so the Voodoo was fished out as it was the one with the panniers fitted when I went to the shed, and off I pedaled, a man on a mission.

Always a pleasure, wheeling out for a ride a freshly cleaned, adjusted and lubed bicycle.

 I say ride, but the Voodoo was to spend a lot of time lurking in hedges and on verges while I went foraging.

Hmmm... hardly enough for feast here, but still, crack on!

Windy out, but a nice morning for a ride, and a poke about the hedgerows too.

Hmmmm... yep, now we're starting to get somewhere.

 Erm... no. I'm not going to try eating Snails just yet, even if the French consider them a delicacy (funny lot they are...). Those red berries look tempting though, but I'm not taking any chances, knowing my luck one of those could fell a cart horse. I need to do more some research before branching out into other foragibles (is that a word? T'is now...)

I was using the water bottle for picking and then transferring the spoils to a carrier bag in the panniers. Much more convenient when hauling on the brakes for a quick pick after sighting a cluster of berried treasure.

 The result of my morning's bramble bimbles. More than I intended to get admittedly, but you know how it is, you think to yourself you've just got enough when you spot a clump of fat juicy looking berries that you just can't leave behind. The upshot of that is you come home with a veritable sackful and wondering whether Tesco might like to buy some off you...

First job (after washing my fruity plunder) was to make a jelly with added slices of Apple. The jelly was Strawberry, not my preferred choice for the job of Raspberry, but it was all I had.

So I've been enjoying the fruits (sorry) of my Blackberrying labours by making the above jelly, sprinkling some on a salad, and also having some with sliced Apple, Banana and custard as a dessert last night. I'm thinking of doing a crumble, but that might be beyond my rather modest culinary skills, we'll see how brave I'm feeling.

A very relaxing and enjoyable few hours of riding about, picking, jellying and custarding it all was though. I managed to lose myself in the task quite happily and time flew by so it was an immensely satisfying exercise in every respect, except one - the reaching, stretching and standing made for a stiffening back again. But I'll recover from that again soon enough and once my supply has run out, I'll go Blackberrying again without a doubt.

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Three Ride Catch Up.

Where the hell has our summer gone?

Right, it's about time I got caught up with this here blog, although to be fair, not a lot has been happening to report, just the usual bimbling about around my local 'hood last week.

Right now I am once again grounded thanks to my back, after a very pleasant few hours in the big city on Thursday (well... Truro but it's big for round here...) spent meeting a lady friend for lunch and a bit of a natter. It's all the walking about and catching buses and so on that does the damage, but riding in isn't always practical what with me being a scruffy Herbert when in my best riding togs. I'd need to get a decent lock too, but on balance I think for when meeting someone for pleasure, the bike is perhaps best left at home. 

But anyway, I've been nursing a beggared back since then, but thankfully it's starting to get better again and so I should be out on a bike again very soon. 

On the upside though, I did get all the bikes cleaned before my little trip into town - the Jamis hadn't been done since before Easter I think, so all is well there. Not sure I want to ride them again now... I'll only undo all that hard work again. Hmmmm...

Anyway, back to last week. Well to answer my own question above, our summer obviously went North - they had it up on Shetland and they weren't letting it go. In July, Shetland had 192.9 hours of sunshine, compared to Cornwall's paltry 153.5 hours. August so far, has seen the duffness continue with rain and wind interspersed with wind and rain and it just isn't right. It seems those long hot summery days of my youth are long gone now, replaced by a couple of scorchers in June and then weeks of rain or at best, showery/sunny intervals. 

The downside to these wet summer days is the towns down here in Cornwall are absolute murder to navigate, either by road or on foot, as all the holiday makers flock into the towns  to wander about, bored witless and generally clogging everything up. You couldn't throw a pasty down Lemon Street without it hitting someone on the head, that's how busy it is at the moment. Behind the tills is the only place you hear a local accent too, as we're invaded by all sorts of exotic sounding voices like Scouse and Brummie, and of course, Dutch. The Dutch get everywhere. I often wonder, if all the Dutch dotted around the world at any given time were all told to go home would the country sink? I reckon it would, hence why there are always Dutch folk wherever in the word you go. They must have some sort of agreement or timeshare thing going on to ensure so many of the population are out of the country at any given time. 

Ah well, it'll soon be September and the holiday makers will all flock off home again and normality will be restored. Blimey, never mind the weather, where has the year gone?

Anyway, back to Bimbles. As I said, not a lot has been going on, so I'll just lob some photos in and witter away in the captions I think.

Thursday the 27th of July saw a quick chooch around my usual Tregassow  Loop. Not many photos taken on this occasion, but I need one from every ride I do for a Flickr group I'm in, so have to come back with something. This time it was the Marin plonked in a gateway to show off the high banks of this narrow section of Tregassow Lane. After rain, you can trace the exact path of a stream of water criss-crossing the road as it ran down the hill here in the dirt that accumulates in the middle of the road. Back and forth across the road it goes, and I must admit to having followed it in the past, swooping left and right and keeping the tyres out of all the muck in the process. I'll grow up one day I'm sure!

 Sunday last I headed out for a short ride, but didn't get far before stopping for a photo or two down by Trevella Stream, this time being a bit cheeky and nipping into a field for a bit of 'crop plus bike' type photoery again.

Setting off again, I barely got half a mile further before there was a belter of a shower, so I took shelter in the tree tunnel leading up to Five Turnings for the few minutes the rain lasted.

Oh strewth, damned fuzzy photos again. Right click and open in a new tab if anyone wants to see the photos rendered better.

 It turned out I was right on the edge of the shower cloud that had dumped on me, as only a few yards up the road all was dry. I quite like days like this though for riding and taking photos. The air is fresh, the showers often bring out all sorts of scents and pongs, and the light can be weird too. The contrast slider gets turned up a bit on days like this too, making for better photos as far as I'm concerned anyway.

On the road to Boswiddle, Ladock Woods are on the hill top in the background there.

I found a long forgotten head harness for the Go Pro - part of a vast bag of cunning mounts I'd bought when I first got the camera, but an item I hadn't yet used at all. So putting dignity to one side (I must look a right pillock with the GoPro mounted on my head) I thought I'd give it a go so I can get two handed overhead riding shots instead of the more usual one handed and rather wobbly ones I've done so far.

The Marin really is turning out to be a great bike to ride. I love the wide bars, the simplicity of the one by gearing and the way it steers and absorbs road irregularities. It is a great bike for these back road bimbles where the view and the general surroundings are as important as the ride, rather than it being all about speed, cadence or thrashing down some single track in a flurry of flying mud. 

As ever though, fat tyres will lob mud and spray around most enthusiastically, and even with mudguards on the fork and downtube, my trollies still get blathered as can be seen in the photo. Not having any form of rear guard on this bike, I've also rediscovered the charm of the muddy streak of shame up my backside and the yucky feeling, cold, wet, bum. Yeeewwww... I must fish out the over trousers when riding this bike.

 Grrrrr... More flipping fuzziness.

 I'd like to know what the maximum height the water at Boswiddle Ford has historically reached, but there are no markers on that measure - those stripes being straps holding it to a backing post. 

Muddy water in the rivers and streams of course is always a sign of recent heavy rain, and we've certainly had plenty of that lately. 

So that was last Sunday's ride, just out to Boswiddle Ford and back. A very enjoyable ride as it happens, just ambling about and taking my time.

Monday and Tuesday had been very wet and windy, and Wednesday wasn't much better, but with the wind having eased and the rain making its presence felt in the form of showers instead of constant drenching, I donned waterproofs and nipped out on the Voodoo for a spin.

Fans of the 1990s TV cop series Wycliffe might recognise this scene, as it appeared in at least one episode as being outside the Superintendent's local church, and it is indeed outside my local church, which is behind me when I took this.

Every week the locals, and the Cornish ex pats living up country, would sit glued to their screens watching for recognisable locations and faces in the background, and notes would be compared over the following days, along with the gripes about the awful attempts at Cornish accents from some of the cast.

The same thing goes on with Poldark of course, but the locations are harder to spot there as they use more coastal and moorland scenes what with it being an historical piece n'all. They did film in Camborne I'm told, and it cost them a bomb to bring the place up to the 18th Century for filming purposes...

Yep, I'm liking that head harness alright. See what I mean about our summer going awol? It's August and Tregassow Lane is wetter than a Dolphin's dinner. More like winter down there t'was, as far as puddles and floods go anyway.

 Rainy the lanes might've been, but there's still no better place to be sometimes, not as far as I'm concerned anyway.

Puddles on the left in this photo are harmless enough. Those on the right however, when coming towards the camera here, are hiding a couple of gert big potholes and a very broken edge to the road. Not so bad on a mountain bike but not too clever on anything else, and reason enough to be wary of puddles on unfamiliar roads.

The lane past Trehane Wood, not looking at all summery. But, when you're all togged up properly, riding in the rain can still be a pleasurable experience when away from busy roads and traffic. It's not the rain that bothers me so much, but the wind that often accompanies it down here, lashing it into your face and driving it down your neck and so on, it's not so nice then, but when the wind is light and the rain is falling in a more gentle fashion, there is no reason not to go out for a ride.

So those were the rides, nothing special there then. Meanwhile I've been having more visits from 'Flash' my Badger chum.

Please excuse all the crap in the background here, this area is a bit of a dumping ground for some of my stuff at the moment.

He visits most nights now, but at varying times so I don't always get to see him. No need to stake the place out though, there's no mistaking when he's about due to all the noise he makes, snuffling, gruffling, and barging about. I thought he was being incredibly bold coming so close to the house but it turns out Badgers are not at all shy, and are very determined. It wouldn't surprise me one bit if he opened the back door one night and let himself in the kitchen to go through my cupboards. I come down some mornings and it looks like the aftermath of a ram raid out there, with stuff strewn all over the place from where he's been stanking about looking for food and generally being nosy. He's even been getting up on the wall behind and helping himself to the bird food I put out, the greedy git! How he gets up there I don't know, but he finds a way of climbing up my crap somehow. I saw him up there a few days ago, but my neighbour chose that moment to open his back door and let his dog out and Flash here leaped off the wall like a proper stunt Badger and was away across the garden sharpish. 

It really is marvelous to have him coming in and being able to watch him though, makes my day, or should that be night, every time. Costing me a fortune though feeding him and the birds... and once you start you can't stop can you...

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Early Coffee Ride to Ruan Lanihorne.

Looking out of my window on Tuesday it was as black as four in the morning outside, which is probably because that was exactly the time, and being unable to sleep, I decided to get out of the house and go for a ride.

In fact it was five o'clock when I wheeled the Jamis out onto the road, having had to have a coffee first, a check on the net of course, then get dressed and load up the bike with lights and stove and whatnot. Right away I knew I was over dressed even without a jacket, having been expecting an early morning chill in the air, but no, it was very warm out already and with a sunny day forecast, it was only going to get hotter.

Threading my way out of the village I was struck by the sight of three cats, positioned with military like precision about twenty yards apart, all sat staring into the hedge on the left side of the road. It was as if they'd agreed to co operate on the task at hand, and cover the area thoroughly. One by one they looked up as I approached and darted across the road in front of me, only to stroll back to their posts again as I watched in the mirror.

Getting out from under the dribble of light from the village street lights (a couple of years ago they turned them down to save power, might as well turned them off altogether really) I really appreciated my cheap Chinese front lights. Both are single LED jobbies bought from traders on Amazon, and together, they light up an otherwise pitch black road well enough for my modest needs, without even resorting to the high setting. These are the style of lights that have a reputation for burning your house down when charging them up, which could be a bit inconvenient I must admit, (I always charge them up outside using an extension lead with a safety cut out on it, just in case they decide to misbehave) but so far, both my lights and their chargers have performed faultlessly, although they don't get used too much admittedly.

Still short of the official sunrise time of 05.30ish, but already some light was appearing as I headed towards Probus.

 This is an in camera HDR shot using the tripod, and it hasn't made a bad job of it at all, with none of the overblown look one tends to associate with HDR images. The camera fires three shots off at differing exposures (Jpegs only, no RAW captures) then merges them into one Jpeg.

This on the other hand, was a normal shot taken using Aperture Priority, ISO 100 and then letting the camera sort the shutter speed, and again with the camera on the tripod, as even on a bright day it's gloomy under those trees.

The aim for the morning's bimble was to just repeat the ride I did on Good Friday this year, a loop taking in coffee by the river at Ruan Lanihorne and then round the lanes of St Michael Penkevil.

Early morning really is a special time to be out and about in the world. Everywhere is just so quiet and there is (usually) a freshness in the air that is often lacking in the late evening. There is also the chance of some encounters with wildlife too, and as I made my way along the lanes, I saw quite a few Rabbits or Hares go bobbing into the undergrowth ahead of me, and also caught fleeting glances of several Deer in different locations, one stood in the road ahead as I rounded a bend, two more in trees at the side of the road among other sightings. Unfortunately, all beggared off before I got close enough for a properly good look at them.

 Quietness you can hear. 

Oi! Mooey... yes you! Here I am trying to appreciate the magic and beauty of the still, quiet, landscape, and you come along chompin' and fartin' and stompin' about, scaring the crap out of me as I was wondering what ghastly beast was creeping up the hedge behind me! A bit of hush and respect for the moment please...

Well, it being an early ride, there had been various near encounters with fuzzy bummed beasts and critters such as Rabbits and Deer, but they all scarpered before I got close. This little chap however was completely oblivious to my presence as he busily furtled about in the hedge. Thankfully, being miles from anywhere, there weren't any hedge staring cats waiting to pounce. 

As it was getting light, so it was also getting misty, and progress was slow as I kept stopping at gateways to look at the view out across the fields, or just at the road behind me. Having passed Tregony I eventually reached Ruan Lanihorne and had a brief nose around before deciding I needed my second coffee of the day and made for my favourite spot when over this way, a bench on an old quay beside the river, a short way up the lane towards Lamorran. This is a rather splendid spot to just sit and relax a while, the peace only being disturbed by low flying Geese. Gert feathery long necked things flying in formation, they were making some racket, not just squawking but the noise of their wings beating through the air too.

 Ruan Lanihorne Church Lych Gate. One of the better appointed gates this, what with a roof to keep the rain off and benches for the pall bearers to rest while waiting for the Devil Dodger in chief to come and conduct the funeral. The building in the background is The King's Head pub, so if the vicar was a long time coming, then refreshment was close at hand. That coffin rest looks rather unconvincing though, the base being fairly modern looking brick. Presumably the original was removed for some reason, or fell apart and the stones removed for 'repurposing'.

The Church in Ruan Lanihorne was dedicated to St Rumon in 1321, who apparently, was possibly, maybe, perhaps, an Irish Missionary, but it seems, not a lot is known about the geezer.

 Fuzzy photo time by the look of it. Coffee this time was a Latte Caramel - very nice too, and ten sachets for a quid in the Pound Shop.

Chinese Lanterns, the Jamis and the Ruan River.

After about an hour or so I packed up and moved on again, riding slowly and taking in my surroundings as I went. Past Lamorran and riding alongside and above the river, I looked down through the trees to see a line of Ducks all sat in a row on a semi submerged log. From my vantage point up on the road I thought they'd make a great photo and accompanying caption – Ducks in a row, a metaphor for how a ride in the countryside sorts out the head and gets everything back on an even keel. From their vantage point down on the log, the Ducks thought otherwise and beggared off smartish, just as I was taking the camera out - my fancy analogy ruined by Fowl play.

 Sat on Sett Bridge taking in the view of the road and woodland ahead, and the river to the sides.

Sett Bridge looking back towards Ruan Lanihorne.

 Passing through Lamorran Wood.

This hill knackers me if I attack it, so the best plan for me is to get into the winching gear right from the start and sit back, dig in, and just enjoy plodding my way up. Bar ends I find are really comfortable when climbing.

Abandoned looking chapel near Fentongollan Farm, just up from Merther Lane.

The lanes in this area of the Roseland are nothing but an absolute treat to ride, passing beside the rivers, and through woodland, and almost entirely devoid of other traffic. Passing through those woods I didn't realise just how warm the morning was getting but I soon found out as I dug in up the hill towards Tregonian where the road is more open and I started to top up the tan on my face and neck. What goes up must come down, and after slogging up one hill, I was soon hurtling modestly down another past Merther Lane, while also pondering on which way to head home. Stay on the road I was on, which would be shorter but would also involve walking up the ugly hill out of Tresillian, or go a longer way round to Probus, then Ladock, which also involves a couple of vertiginous slogs, but rideable ones. Despite being rather over dressed for the heat of the day, I opted for the latter, using my local knowledge to take a short cut along Wagg Lane and up into Probus. Unfortunately for the Jamis, that meant negotiating a farmyard awash with smelly slurry and slop, so it is now in need of a wash, which is fair enough as I can't actually remember when I last cleaned this bike, as it hasn't really needed it.

 2 miles from Tregothnan.

This lane is a rarity in Cornwall - it's straight and flat!

Whoa!... What the hell is going on now? I've tried deleting and reloading that huge image but it won't resize to normal for some reason. Fuzzy uploads, random super size photos... Wish I knew what was going on.

 Wagg Lane into Probus is now declassified and listed under 'other route with public access' on OS maps, but back along, was probably the main road from Probus to Tregony.

 Flippin' fuzzy uploads again. Grrrr...

Anyway, downtown Ladock looks a bit underwhelming, but with tea, coffee and most importantly, pasties, available, the place has everything you could want. (oh and that is the pub, last building on the right).

Splendid and aromatic display outside a house in Ladock. Glare of the Daisies in the sun mullered the meter's attempts at getting a balanced exposure, (no good me trying manually either...) so some heavy lifting was required in post processing (not entirely successfully either).

Drifting along lanes like these in the warm sunshine is nothing but absolute pleasure.

For a bike costing just £325 a few years ago, the Jamis does a pretty fair job I reckon and once again I arrived home promising to ride it more often. The trouble with that is I've three other bikes I enjoy riding equally as much, if not more depending on the terrain/mood, so maybe I should try and do more longer road rides which is where Battersby, the Jamis (you need to be a Coronation Street fan to understand why the bike has been given that name), is more at home.

Map of the Bimblage, and the full version along with other info like graphs n'stuff can be found HERE

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