It’s funny you say about “not feeling it” @EltonFrog my son and I did our usual 15 miles route yesterday, it starts off with the Cumnor Hill which is brutal but usually not a bother. But yesterday I wasn’t into it, a mixture of the heat, a rucksack and it being a bit too busy with other cyclists. But sometimes that’s what it’s like, I find the same on my motorcycle as well. Today I have had a day away from it which will rekindle my enthusiasm tomorrow.
Your ride today....
- Thread starter gbb
- Start date
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cyberknight
As long as I breathe, I attack.
- Location
- Land of confusion
Hot 35 miles today , i only took one bottle as i hadnt planned to go that far but i got a little bit unsure of where i was so ended up gasping for the last 10 miles.
Another day another ride.
Plenty of jobs to do at home, some half finished, but I need stuff to complete and seeing as nowhere is open or can deliver anytime soon it seems things will have to wait a while
Which is a real shame 
Set off at about 1.30pm and headed north up towards Wetherby and the intention was to do a few loops of local lanes around Thorner. Day dreaming as per usual I sailed right past the various turns for Thorner and found I was almost into Collingham. A swift change of plans and it was along by the racecourse and then the cycle path to Thorp Arch:
Down the hill and across the bridge at Boston Spa:
The bridge is also known as Thorpe Arch Bridge. I've no idea which name is deemed correct. I suppose it depends on which side or the river you live.
From Boston I went back into Collingham under the A1M and via the wonderfully named Wattle Syke. At Collingham I turned up Jewitt Lane. Maybe a rash choice being on fixed but a slow steady grind got me up with no drama. Through the lanes and past Hetchel Woods into Thorner, up through Sandhills and a right hand turn along Skeltons Lane and into a block headwind. Not much but fields either side which is changing even as I type this.
A huge housing development around the north and east of Leeds will see the area change for good. The fields either side are now marked and scoured for roads and houses, some of which are already complete. Naturally, in with the new housing, is planned a new dual carriageway road linking the existing ring road with the A64 and further on the A1M.
Progress of sorts I guess and there's no denying that extra housing is needed but 8000 houses in one tranch ? It won't stop there of course and a whole previously green area will be developed and given over to concrete.
In years past the northern limit of Leeds was almost an exact line. Houses stopped, and green fields began, not everywhere, but the limits of the metropolitan area were pretty much clearly defined. No more it seems. Things change I guess, sometimes not for the better.
Anyway for me it was Red Hall and down Wellington Hill to Oakwood.
25.6 miles and 1350 ft of up. Fixed wheel.
View: https://ridewithgps.com/trips/47008182
Photos courtesy of others.
Plenty of jobs to do at home, some half finished, but I need stuff to complete and seeing as nowhere is open or can deliver anytime soon it seems things will have to wait a while
Which is a real shame Set off at about 1.30pm and headed north up towards Wetherby and the intention was to do a few loops of local lanes around Thorner. Day dreaming as per usual I sailed right past the various turns for Thorner and found I was almost into Collingham. A swift change of plans and it was along by the racecourse and then the cycle path to Thorp Arch:
Down the hill and across the bridge at Boston Spa:
The bridge is also known as Thorpe Arch Bridge. I've no idea which name is deemed correct. I suppose it depends on which side or the river you live.
From Boston I went back into Collingham under the A1M and via the wonderfully named Wattle Syke. At Collingham I turned up Jewitt Lane. Maybe a rash choice being on fixed but a slow steady grind got me up with no drama. Through the lanes and past Hetchel Woods into Thorner, up through Sandhills and a right hand turn along Skeltons Lane and into a block headwind. Not much but fields either side which is changing even as I type this.
A huge housing development around the north and east of Leeds will see the area change for good. The fields either side are now marked and scoured for roads and houses, some of which are already complete. Naturally, in with the new housing, is planned a new dual carriageway road linking the existing ring road with the A64 and further on the A1M.
Progress of sorts I guess and there's no denying that extra housing is needed but 8000 houses in one tranch ? It won't stop there of course and a whole previously green area will be developed and given over to concrete.
In years past the northern limit of Leeds was almost an exact line. Houses stopped, and green fields began, not everywhere, but the limits of the metropolitan area were pretty much clearly defined. No more it seems. Things change I guess, sometimes not for the better.
Anyway for me it was Red Hall and down Wellington Hill to Oakwood.
25.6 miles and 1350 ft of up. Fixed wheel.
View: https://ridewithgps.com/trips/47008182
Photos courtesy of others.
An early afternoon outing for the Defy was not the original intention, was going to leave it till later in the afternoon but then I saw the wind speed was increasing as the afternoon went on. It was a slow start to the ride as I followed another cyclist not expecting them to take the same route as me and belatedly realised I should have overtaken them straight away but now was now stuck 2m+ behind with just a smidge of vehicular traffic making socially distance overtaking that bit questionable given the head and then cross wind. Our ways parted when I turned towards Hampsthwaite where, auto pilot well switched off for once, I then headed up to Swincliffe Top. There are two ways – a short steeper way and I did ponder doing that until I noticed a number of walkers on the narrow lane so the longer marginally less steep way. With the wind a westerly I knew what to except and on reaching the T junction at Swincliffe Top as I turned left I also flicked the rear derailleur onto larger cogs as true to form a blast of wind hit with a short bit of climbing still left before dropping down Swincliffe Lane and up Stock Stile Lane. Still plenty of daffodils about and the distant hillside was the next target.
First though a decent to Birstwith, opted for Lackon Bank pass St James Church, through the village and up the western Clint Bank only then to descend down the eastern Clint Bank. Crossing the River Nidd on Hampsthwaite Bridge;
Dates from 1598 although rebuilt in 1640 and altered in the 19th century. Back once again through the village to climb Rowden Lane for the first time this year if you ignore the ebike. Reaching the crossroads with the A59 that looked very quite for once so home the direct way.
12.09 miles@11.1mph avg, 1168ft climbed. Plenty of cyclists about all largely nodding or waving as passing.
First though a decent to Birstwith, opted for Lackon Bank pass St James Church, through the village and up the western Clint Bank only then to descend down the eastern Clint Bank. Crossing the River Nidd on Hampsthwaite Bridge;
Dates from 1598 although rebuilt in 1640 and altered in the 19th century. Back once again through the village to climb Rowden Lane for the first time this year if you ignore the ebike. Reaching the crossroads with the A59 that looked very quite for once so home the direct way.
12.09 miles@11.1mph avg, 1168ft climbed. Plenty of cyclists about all largely nodding or waving as passing.
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itboffin
Guru
- Location
- Marlborough, Windshire
I set a route this morning and soft pedalled out to the start then just couldn’t be bothered so rode a totally random route instead, yay to random
I need to start taking photos
I need to start taking photos
Wandered down into the west end of Glasgow today. Byres Road was deserted. It's not usually somewhere you enjoy cycling. Along past the Kelvin Hall , then turned back towards Clydebank.
Usually I would have taken the route along the Clyde , but with empty roads it was easier to stick to them.
On to the Forth and Clyde canal at Clydebank and turned back towards Maryhill and home.
The canal path was busier than the roads were.
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Donger
Convoi Exceptionnel
- Location
- Quedgeley, Glos.
My 11th consecutive ride on No.2 bike tonight, as I've still not bothered to refit the chain on No.1 bike. It wasn't running right for a while, so I wasn't confident that the chain itself was the problem. Anyway, I'm going to have to do some maintenance now, as I've developed an annoying clicking on No.2 bike as well.
I was going to head out in the Tewkesbury direction via Sandhurst, but turned for home when I reached Sandhurst Lane because of the new fault that suddenly developed. I both came and went via an almost deserted Gloucester city centre. The empty and locked down Kingsholm Inn looked out over an empty and locked down Kingsholm Stadium. One or two shoppers persisted in using the Sainsbury's in Northgate Street. Other than that, the city centre was deserted except for a group of police cars that had been called to an incident in Southgate Street. Drunks again. One drunken woman was objecting to being moved on from the beer garden of a pub, and was screeching repeatedly "but there's nobody there!". She must have shouted that a dozen times as I went past, and I could still hear her shouting it when I was a quarter of a mile away.
On my return through town, one of the police cars was blocking the road, so I hung a right towards the waterfront and the docks. "But there's nobody there!" she screeched a couple more times. This was a good 15 minutes after I'd gone past in the other direction. As I rode along the waterfront, a group of five other drunks staggered along the pavement passing each other cans and talking rubbish. I recognised them as a crowd that normally hang out with Screechy Woman. They had obviously slipped out the back and melted away, leaving her to face the music alone. I don't envy the police.
Anyway, I loudly clicked my way home, taking a spin around my own housing estate at the end just to get the total up over 10 miles. Not the best of rides, and some maintenance work to do now before I ride again. Still .... better than not riding at all.
Stay safe everyone. Cheers, Donger.
I was going to head out in the Tewkesbury direction via Sandhurst, but turned for home when I reached Sandhurst Lane because of the new fault that suddenly developed. I both came and went via an almost deserted Gloucester city centre. The empty and locked down Kingsholm Inn looked out over an empty and locked down Kingsholm Stadium. One or two shoppers persisted in using the Sainsbury's in Northgate Street. Other than that, the city centre was deserted except for a group of police cars that had been called to an incident in Southgate Street. Drunks again. One drunken woman was objecting to being moved on from the beer garden of a pub, and was screeching repeatedly "but there's nobody there!". She must have shouted that a dozen times as I went past, and I could still hear her shouting it when I was a quarter of a mile away.
On my return through town, one of the police cars was blocking the road, so I hung a right towards the waterfront and the docks. "But there's nobody there!" she screeched a couple more times. This was a good 15 minutes after I'd gone past in the other direction. As I rode along the waterfront, a group of five other drunks staggered along the pavement passing each other cans and talking rubbish. I recognised them as a crowd that normally hang out with Screechy Woman. They had obviously slipped out the back and melted away, leaving her to face the music alone. I don't envy the police.
Anyway, I loudly clicked my way home, taking a spin around my own housing estate at the end just to get the total up over 10 miles. Not the best of rides, and some maintenance work to do now before I ride again. Still .... better than not riding at all.
Stay safe everyone. Cheers, Donger.
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AndreaJ
Veteran
Another afternoon ride in the warm sunshine, different route still fairly close to home, set off towards Northwood passing some neighbours on a family bike ride, turned to Bettisfield where Shropshire Council have actually sort of filled the potholes/craters in, back to Hampton Bank, Lyneal, Loppington, Horton, Ryebank, Edstaston, Waterloo, Braynes Hall where I was going to turn right but there was a bit of a traffic jam involving 2 huge tractors with slurry tanks going in opposite directions and a horse rider in the middle all on a single track lane I saw no need to add me on a bike to the problem and carried on and took the next right turn to Coton, Hollinswood, Alkington, back to Whixall, Northwood and home. Saw the first swallows of the year and quite a few family groups on bikes. 26.4 miles @15.4mph.
Loppington duck pond.
Loppington duck pond.
Chromatic
Legendary Member
- Location
- Gloucestershire
Under normal circumstances the areas you've described riding around in your recent posts are my normal riding grounds too. I also stop often stop on motorway bridges for a breather and a drink, and the occasional wave at passing drivers.
footloose crow
Veteran
- Location
- Cornwall. UK
Week beginning 6 April. Round and round and round the lanes
It is corona -lassitude or corona- boredom setting in. I can't settle, wandering about the house ignoring the cans of paint waiting to be spread, picking at the news, picking up a book and putting it down with no memory of what I have read. I know that I have it good; retired, garden to sit in, enough money to get by and not ill so I should be counting my blessings but I have never been any good at that. I have stopped looking at cyclechat, stopped talking to people, just impatiently waiting for something to change. We have self isolated to the point of hibernation. The car is anchored to the ground by cobwebs. Even after we run out of fresh food we don't want to shop and run down the store of tins that we keep for a rainy day.
Four rides this week. Impatient to get out, impatient to get back. Afraid of meeting people....holding my breath as I pass walkers and sun-dizzy children in case I catch it. Hard to hold your breath when going uphill and for how long is it necessary to do that? The sun has got warmer all week until I feel I am back in France again, sweating along deserted lanes, quiet countryside, the people sheltering indoors. The virus stalking the land.
Monday we went west, Madame Crow and myself, our peloton of two and intended to go around Stithians Lake which is a landmark of sorts although an obscure one as the lake is only visible in a couple of places. We got most of the way there before creeping anxiety levels (mine) started to close my throat and restrict my chest. Madame knows the signs all too well and we steered off the route to go home by a new way. Wahoo was confused, then angry and then sullen. The red flashing LEDS stopped as did all instruction. We did more hills than I wanted to but by the time we neared Truro again I was feeling better, the sky was blue and I could hear birds singing. Strava said 25 miles, 2300 feet and I searched every segment for some news about improving fitness. In cycling I am about the equivalent of Truro Town Football Club - holding its own at its level but don't let me play in the big leagues.
Tuesday it was warmer again and so shorts and short sleeves were required. Madame wanted a ride that had no climbs, no main roads and lots of scenery and so RidewithGPS and me had a long talk and found that between the A390 and the A30 is a lot of empty countryside. Much of it either goes down or goes up, a wrinkled landscape of secret woods and hidden valleys. I read an account by some American cyclists who did a 50 mile loop around the Mendip including Cheddar Gorge. They wrote about how often they had to change gear and cadence as the road never stayed flat for long. They marvelled at how just 3000 feet of ascent felt harder than an Alpine pass. These were guys who had done the Ventoux three times in a day, complaining about how hilly it was crossing the Mendip which are all of a 1000 feet high at the most. They didn't marvel at the Cheddar Gorge but if you have the Grand Canyon in your country it would be a bit like taking a Cornish surfer to Margate and asking them to admire the tiny waves. Anyway my point is that the number of feet of ascent doesn't tell the whole story and the whole story is burning lungs, lactic legs and all round exhaustion - I was exhausted anyway as was Madame's battery but she seemed pretty serene about it all admiring the views and expounding on virology, immunisation therapy and the shortcomings of the government. Oddly it was another 25 mile, 2300 foot ride.
Wednesday I was shamed into moving paint from the tin and onto the external wall of the house sometimes avoiding painting windows and other things that shouldn't be painted.
Thursday was much the same (more painting) but it was so warm and so still, no wind at all in fact, that a ride was necessary and I sneaked out on my own at 5pm. I had read that short fast rides were as good as long steady rides for improving fitness and having read so much advice about not going far and not bothering the NHS, I decided that short ride without being fast would be the best compromise. But the legs were spinning nicely and the breathing was steady, the roads empty of virus spreading people or cars so that I just kept going faster. It is always good to come home to a Strava page full of PRs. I shared a screenshot with my son, where I was the fastest (of three) on a segment. He expressed incredulity that anyone would bother to find out how fast they had pedalled up a hill. I must not become a Strava obsessive but it is a good displacement activity that stops me thinking about how awful everything is and when will it all be normal again and when will I only have to worry about being run over or gassed by traffic once more. 17 miles and 1200 feet. And a top ten place (OK, tenth) out of 300 people on another Strava segment.
Friday was another painting day. And scraping paint off the places it wasn't supposed to be including the cat.
Saturday was the warmest day yet and we planned a ride that coincidentally passed Madame's fathers house that meant we could deliver his Easter eggs. I packed them carefully into my black saddle bag and they didn't break - just melted. When we arrived I put them on the lawn and retreated ten yards. The eggs were picked up and Madame's father then retreated ten yards. It was like a spy exchange at an Iron Curtain border crossing. We had a conversation across the lawn, but it is hard to come up with new things to say when all you have done all week is painting and all he has done is a puzzle.
Then it was on and up the hill - apparently a Category 4 hill - but as we had a rest part of the way, it doesn't count. Strava keeps counting though and tells me later my average speed up the hill was 1 mph. That was the Easter egg delivery. The lanes today were beautiful, dry, flower lined, green-ness bursting out. All life is exuberant today except for humans. The crows and magpies, who don't like humans much anyway, watched us moodily as they paused nest building to make sure we had moved away. I had a friend who rescued a fledgling crow that had fallen out of the nest. He hand fed it and the crow thrived. When he released it the other crows killed it. My friend said he thought that would probably happen. "They don't like men or anything that smells of us." he said.
Today by accident I have found some hills that are longer but less frequent and the rolling nature of the ride makes it more relaxing, gives us time (and breath) to chat and watch the passing countryside. The views are extensive from the high lanes, low green hills and fields under a few cumulus clouds, a high summer day in April. It is happy couple who are sharing beers on the deck in the afternoon after 29 miles and 2300 feet. I even forget to look at Strava - until later.
We will know when the the corona-emergency is over: it will start raining.
It is corona -lassitude or corona- boredom setting in. I can't settle, wandering about the house ignoring the cans of paint waiting to be spread, picking at the news, picking up a book and putting it down with no memory of what I have read. I know that I have it good; retired, garden to sit in, enough money to get by and not ill so I should be counting my blessings but I have never been any good at that. I have stopped looking at cyclechat, stopped talking to people, just impatiently waiting for something to change. We have self isolated to the point of hibernation. The car is anchored to the ground by cobwebs. Even after we run out of fresh food we don't want to shop and run down the store of tins that we keep for a rainy day.
Four rides this week. Impatient to get out, impatient to get back. Afraid of meeting people....holding my breath as I pass walkers and sun-dizzy children in case I catch it. Hard to hold your breath when going uphill and for how long is it necessary to do that? The sun has got warmer all week until I feel I am back in France again, sweating along deserted lanes, quiet countryside, the people sheltering indoors. The virus stalking the land.
Monday we went west, Madame Crow and myself, our peloton of two and intended to go around Stithians Lake which is a landmark of sorts although an obscure one as the lake is only visible in a couple of places. We got most of the way there before creeping anxiety levels (mine) started to close my throat and restrict my chest. Madame knows the signs all too well and we steered off the route to go home by a new way. Wahoo was confused, then angry and then sullen. The red flashing LEDS stopped as did all instruction. We did more hills than I wanted to but by the time we neared Truro again I was feeling better, the sky was blue and I could hear birds singing. Strava said 25 miles, 2300 feet and I searched every segment for some news about improving fitness. In cycling I am about the equivalent of Truro Town Football Club - holding its own at its level but don't let me play in the big leagues.
Tuesday it was warmer again and so shorts and short sleeves were required. Madame wanted a ride that had no climbs, no main roads and lots of scenery and so RidewithGPS and me had a long talk and found that between the A390 and the A30 is a lot of empty countryside. Much of it either goes down or goes up, a wrinkled landscape of secret woods and hidden valleys. I read an account by some American cyclists who did a 50 mile loop around the Mendip including Cheddar Gorge. They wrote about how often they had to change gear and cadence as the road never stayed flat for long. They marvelled at how just 3000 feet of ascent felt harder than an Alpine pass. These were guys who had done the Ventoux three times in a day, complaining about how hilly it was crossing the Mendip which are all of a 1000 feet high at the most. They didn't marvel at the Cheddar Gorge but if you have the Grand Canyon in your country it would be a bit like taking a Cornish surfer to Margate and asking them to admire the tiny waves. Anyway my point is that the number of feet of ascent doesn't tell the whole story and the whole story is burning lungs, lactic legs and all round exhaustion - I was exhausted anyway as was Madame's battery but she seemed pretty serene about it all admiring the views and expounding on virology, immunisation therapy and the shortcomings of the government. Oddly it was another 25 mile, 2300 foot ride.
Wednesday I was shamed into moving paint from the tin and onto the external wall of the house sometimes avoiding painting windows and other things that shouldn't be painted.
Thursday was much the same (more painting) but it was so warm and so still, no wind at all in fact, that a ride was necessary and I sneaked out on my own at 5pm. I had read that short fast rides were as good as long steady rides for improving fitness and having read so much advice about not going far and not bothering the NHS, I decided that short ride without being fast would be the best compromise. But the legs were spinning nicely and the breathing was steady, the roads empty of virus spreading people or cars so that I just kept going faster. It is always good to come home to a Strava page full of PRs. I shared a screenshot with my son, where I was the fastest (of three) on a segment. He expressed incredulity that anyone would bother to find out how fast they had pedalled up a hill. I must not become a Strava obsessive but it is a good displacement activity that stops me thinking about how awful everything is and when will it all be normal again and when will I only have to worry about being run over or gassed by traffic once more. 17 miles and 1200 feet. And a top ten place (OK, tenth) out of 300 people on another Strava segment.
Friday was another painting day. And scraping paint off the places it wasn't supposed to be including the cat.
Saturday was the warmest day yet and we planned a ride that coincidentally passed Madame's fathers house that meant we could deliver his Easter eggs. I packed them carefully into my black saddle bag and they didn't break - just melted. When we arrived I put them on the lawn and retreated ten yards. The eggs were picked up and Madame's father then retreated ten yards. It was like a spy exchange at an Iron Curtain border crossing. We had a conversation across the lawn, but it is hard to come up with new things to say when all you have done all week is painting and all he has done is a puzzle.
Then it was on and up the hill - apparently a Category 4 hill - but as we had a rest part of the way, it doesn't count. Strava keeps counting though and tells me later my average speed up the hill was 1 mph. That was the Easter egg delivery. The lanes today were beautiful, dry, flower lined, green-ness bursting out. All life is exuberant today except for humans. The crows and magpies, who don't like humans much anyway, watched us moodily as they paused nest building to make sure we had moved away. I had a friend who rescued a fledgling crow that had fallen out of the nest. He hand fed it and the crow thrived. When he released it the other crows killed it. My friend said he thought that would probably happen. "They don't like men or anything that smells of us." he said.
Today by accident I have found some hills that are longer but less frequent and the rolling nature of the ride makes it more relaxing, gives us time (and breath) to chat and watch the passing countryside. The views are extensive from the high lanes, low green hills and fields under a few cumulus clouds, a high summer day in April. It is happy couple who are sharing beers on the deck in the afternoon after 29 miles and 2300 feet. I even forget to look at Strava - until later.
We will know when the the corona-emergency is over: it will start raining.
cyberknight
As long as I breathe, I attack.
- Location
- Land of confusion
looked at a segment the other day i was 778 out over close to 6000
figbat
Slippery scientist
- Location
- South Oxfordshire, UK
An absolutely gorgeous day today! The small MTB group in my village who usuallly ride weekly are obviously not riding as a group at the moment. However we are quite a social bunch so stay in touch anyway. We are now running a sort of treasure hunt to keep us interested and going out. One person takes a picture of their bike in a location and posts it on our WhatsApp chat along with the what.3.words location reference. The race is then on for someone to go to the same place, recreate the photo with their bike then ride somewhere else and set a new one up. As a consequence of this I am riding to places I wouldn’t normally go and it gives me a target when I go out. I think we’re up to about 35 locations so far.
Anyway, today’s ride for me was to grab the latest location and set my own.
Existing location (somewhere I have ridden past dozens of times but didn’t know was there):
New location:
Once I had set this up I then wended my merry way along the Ridgeway, then off a side track towards Aldworth where I found this:
Then I looped back along a couple of byways and some singletrack:
Shortly after this was taken I came across some downed trees across the trail which, at first look, appeared impassable, but I managed to post my bike through and scramble after it.
Then I rejoined the Ridgeway and headed back the way I came. Along the way I met one of my biking buddies going the other way to pick up the location I had recently posted; a brief, distant chat then home.
Anyway, today’s ride for me was to grab the latest location and set my own.
Existing location (somewhere I have ridden past dozens of times but didn’t know was there):
New location:
Once I had set this up I then wended my merry way along the Ridgeway, then off a side track towards Aldworth where I found this:
Then I looped back along a couple of byways and some singletrack:
Shortly after this was taken I came across some downed trees across the trail which, at first look, appeared impassable, but I managed to post my bike through and scramble after it.
Then I rejoined the Ridgeway and headed back the way I came. Along the way I met one of my biking buddies going the other way to pick up the location I had recently posted; a brief, distant chat then home.
Spiderweb
Not So Special One
- Location
- North Yorkshire
Out at 12.30pm on the Crux for a change, not quite as warm as yesterday but still a beautiful day.
A Quick spin
to Cawood, little Fenton, Barkston Ash & Saxton.
Just over 20 miles with an average of 16 mph.
A Quick spin
to Cawood, little Fenton, Barkston Ash & Saxton.
Just over 20 miles with an average of 16 mph.
ianbarton
Veteran
A shorter version of my 60k loop. I wanted to avoid the picnic table at the top of Wirswall hill, as I would have been very tempted to stop and sit there. Brilliant warm weather all the way around, with hardly a breath of wind. Met a few cyclists, but no groups except some that were obviously parents out with their children. I stopped at B&M Bargains in Whitchurch and stocked up on flapjack and blackcurrant Bakewell pies. Amazingly I didn't eat any of these until I got home!
The route follows a short section of the Mercian Way. I was surprised that no one had taken this face mask!
A field full of what looks like mustard.
Outing slightly spoiled by some fly tipper dumping this about a mile from home.
The route follows a short section of the Mercian Way. I was surprised that no one had taken this face mask!
A field full of what looks like mustard.
Outing slightly spoiled by some fly tipper dumping this about a mile from home.
Shearwater Missile
Veteran
Oilseed rape that is. Now coming out and setting the hay fever sufferers off no doubt !
