Your ride today....
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AndreaJ
Veteran
Cold, grey and windy here but I thought I would go out anyway. I decided to go the wrong way round a regular route in the hope that there would be a wind assisted run home, unfortunately that meant starting into the wind to Wolverley where I turned to Horton, Foxholes, Paddolgreen, Edstaston, Abbeygreen, Hollinswood, Alkington, back to Hollinswood and the wind helped me back home from there with a PR on a Strava segment. Only saw one family group cycling and one walker.18.3 miles @15.3mph and I still dislike the wind.
footloose crow
Veteran
- Location
- Cornwall. UK
9 May. The Bodmin Beast
Unexpected side effects of the corona-lockdown are that I have forgotten my PIN number, still have the same two £20 notes in my wallet since February and no longer carry any money with me when I go out on a ride. Where would spend it? I haven't seen the inside of a shop since early March. And I feel guilty every time I go out on my bike in case I have to trouble the NHS.
To compound my guilt we have decided to drive somewhere with the bikes. You may stop reading at this point especially if you live in Wales, but the number of alternative routes from where I live is quite limited. We can all justify the unjustifiable eh? I feel like a criminal sneaking about looking for a discreet parking place. Honest officer, it is only 20 minutes drive from home.
Madame Crow wanted to see Bodmin Moor and being electrically propelled was uninterested in my protestations of the number of hills and their steepness. I am a dutiful husband and so here we are cycling uphill for a 550 foot ascent that's starts with a mean 12% and then steepens before levelling off to a sustained 7%. Madame chats about the flowers in the hedgerows and the interesting cottages she glimpses but my view is entirely focused on the bit of road just beyond the front wheel. Spin, puff, spin, puff.
The views from the top are extensive across the gorse yellowed moors to the giants of Cornwall, Brown Willy and Rough Tor, a stegosaurus ridge of granite tors that rises to an altitude defying 1430 feet above sea level. You have to go to Dartmoor to find higher than that. I am pleased to be there, even more pleased that the road ahead just undulates and then heads downhill. Madame often accuses me of not thinking far enough ahead and it is true; I am ignoring for the moment that what goes down must go up. I live for the thrill of downhill racing.
We zoom through Mount Pleasant on a fast downhill, passing houses still covered in VE flags. I zoom anyway for when I turn to check on Madame she is nowhere to be seen. I stop. I wait. I study the ground. I watch the road. Time passes. I idly consider cycling back up the hill to check on her but dismiss it. Easier to wait. And wait. She was late for our wedding.
Madame appears and shows me a photo she took with her phone. It is a highland cow, shaggy, blond with long curving horns that she found standing by the road. I didn't see it. Apparently it was very tame. Thus lateness explained. Not late at all but distracted.
An uphill and a then a downhill, the sun is now fully out and the warmth has brought out all the flowers, stitchwort poking through the bluebells and the tall stands of cowparsley, the sweet smell of wild garlic. Another steep uphill. Every hill is short, less than 150 feet but so very steep. None is less than 10%.
These lanes are quiet. Not just corona -quiet but 'no-one-lives here-or-drives-along -these lanes' quiet. This is 4x4 country. Another long uphill takes us back onto the moor proper again and the views open up from the deep, green hollow ways we have been following to the sudden vista of Colliford Lake, a blue oasis in the green and yellow of the moor.
Our route now follows the right side of the lake which snakes about so you can never see all of it, just small sections between low hills. This lake is fed by the streams running off Bodmin Moor and provides much of Cornwall's drinking water. It is fenced off with wire and signs. Not a place to swim or picnic and a swim seems almost attractive right now in the slow heat of the afternoon. The lane is a thin ribbon of tarmac that runs across the moor, occasionally dropping and then rising but never enough to shift me out of the big ring on the front. Madame thinks it is like Scotland but to me it lacks the rising land of real mountains. Brown Willy is not Buchaille Etive Mor.
The lane finishes as it buts up to the A30, a dual carriage way here and normally on a Bank Holiday it would be packed. Today it is silent. We stop briefly at the Jamaica Inn, a granite honeypot for tourists that for weeks and weeks has just been dozing in the heat of this corona spring and waiting for the lockdown to end. From here we can follow the infant River Fowey back onto the moor, the road as rough as the landscape around it; granite bones exposed, a wilderness of gorse, bracken and rough grass. We stop again as Madame sees some new lambs, resting her bike on mine as I sit and watch the river. There is no sound more soothing than moving water on a warm day.
Leaving the River Fowey we push uphill again, my breathing ragged and legs on fire, to reach the summit of the hill only to be immediately faced with a steep drop down into the next valley. And so it goes on through the afternoon; up, up up, down, down ,down. These are more empty lanes, the surface broken and scattered with rain washed soil and gravel, a ridge of grass up the centre. I am pleased to have 32mm wide tyres even if they do slow me up on the hills. The bike vibrates and bucks as it runs downhill, my hands on the brakes, peering around the bends to see where we are going next, the thought of a vehicle on these lanes the last thing on my mind.
We are deep down in these lanes, the hedges sitting on banks, the road surface dug into the land so we can see no more than the next bend with no real idea of where we are. There is one savage hill, rising for 400 feet and always 8-10%, those angles seem like resting places compared to the ramps where it kicks up to 17%, 18% or even 20%. This lane is littered with false summits, always pretending it will finish soon, promising to give me some relief from this continuous journey upwards but each time as I round the bend, it rises again. I am soaked through with sweat at the top and stand astride my bike, legs trembling, heart thumping, breathing as deeply as I can as my body continues to demand oxygen. Madame photographs me. She has been here for a while and points out her battery is running low. So is mine I tell her.
Convinced that this is the last hill we continue down, the road cut into the hillside with a big drop on the left and a view across a secret valley, glimpsed between trees. It would be a fast descent if it were not so rough.
It is not the last hill. There are more. I yearn for something flat or even just sloping. Something other than hills where my front wheel is lifting off the ground followed by descents where my brakes are cooking all the way down.These are not flowing descents but a nervy bump down potholed tarmac and gravel tracks, twisting left then right between granite lined walls and tall hedges, our vision ahead limited to ten or twenty yards. Lower down we are in the woods, cool green havens for the deer I glimpse once or twice and then higher up once again after yet another ascent, we can see across the moors. The extensive view is reward for our efforts.
There has to be a final hill however and it does arrive bringing us back onto wider lanes and then a road with vehicles, more level country now with tidy hedgerows and cultivated fields. A mellow finish to the day and after a 120 miles and 10000 feet of climbing in the last three days, I need a mellow finish.
This is a beast of a ride, appropriately enough on Bodmin Moor with its stories of escaped panthers or maybe more mysterious beasts, lost in Cornwall's mists. Tomorrow it will rain - and for once I am glad. I need the rest.
Unexpected side effects of the corona-lockdown are that I have forgotten my PIN number, still have the same two £20 notes in my wallet since February and no longer carry any money with me when I go out on a ride. Where would spend it? I haven't seen the inside of a shop since early March. And I feel guilty every time I go out on my bike in case I have to trouble the NHS.
To compound my guilt we have decided to drive somewhere with the bikes. You may stop reading at this point especially if you live in Wales, but the number of alternative routes from where I live is quite limited. We can all justify the unjustifiable eh? I feel like a criminal sneaking about looking for a discreet parking place. Honest officer, it is only 20 minutes drive from home.
Madame Crow wanted to see Bodmin Moor and being electrically propelled was uninterested in my protestations of the number of hills and their steepness. I am a dutiful husband and so here we are cycling uphill for a 550 foot ascent that's starts with a mean 12% and then steepens before levelling off to a sustained 7%. Madame chats about the flowers in the hedgerows and the interesting cottages she glimpses but my view is entirely focused on the bit of road just beyond the front wheel. Spin, puff, spin, puff.
The views from the top are extensive across the gorse yellowed moors to the giants of Cornwall, Brown Willy and Rough Tor, a stegosaurus ridge of granite tors that rises to an altitude defying 1430 feet above sea level. You have to go to Dartmoor to find higher than that. I am pleased to be there, even more pleased that the road ahead just undulates and then heads downhill. Madame often accuses me of not thinking far enough ahead and it is true; I am ignoring for the moment that what goes down must go up. I live for the thrill of downhill racing.
We zoom through Mount Pleasant on a fast downhill, passing houses still covered in VE flags. I zoom anyway for when I turn to check on Madame she is nowhere to be seen. I stop. I wait. I study the ground. I watch the road. Time passes. I idly consider cycling back up the hill to check on her but dismiss it. Easier to wait. And wait. She was late for our wedding.
Madame appears and shows me a photo she took with her phone. It is a highland cow, shaggy, blond with long curving horns that she found standing by the road. I didn't see it. Apparently it was very tame. Thus lateness explained. Not late at all but distracted.
An uphill and a then a downhill, the sun is now fully out and the warmth has brought out all the flowers, stitchwort poking through the bluebells and the tall stands of cowparsley, the sweet smell of wild garlic. Another steep uphill. Every hill is short, less than 150 feet but so very steep. None is less than 10%.
These lanes are quiet. Not just corona -quiet but 'no-one-lives here-or-drives-along -these lanes' quiet. This is 4x4 country. Another long uphill takes us back onto the moor proper again and the views open up from the deep, green hollow ways we have been following to the sudden vista of Colliford Lake, a blue oasis in the green and yellow of the moor.
Our route now follows the right side of the lake which snakes about so you can never see all of it, just small sections between low hills. This lake is fed by the streams running off Bodmin Moor and provides much of Cornwall's drinking water. It is fenced off with wire and signs. Not a place to swim or picnic and a swim seems almost attractive right now in the slow heat of the afternoon. The lane is a thin ribbon of tarmac that runs across the moor, occasionally dropping and then rising but never enough to shift me out of the big ring on the front. Madame thinks it is like Scotland but to me it lacks the rising land of real mountains. Brown Willy is not Buchaille Etive Mor.
The lane finishes as it buts up to the A30, a dual carriage way here and normally on a Bank Holiday it would be packed. Today it is silent. We stop briefly at the Jamaica Inn, a granite honeypot for tourists that for weeks and weeks has just been dozing in the heat of this corona spring and waiting for the lockdown to end. From here we can follow the infant River Fowey back onto the moor, the road as rough as the landscape around it; granite bones exposed, a wilderness of gorse, bracken and rough grass. We stop again as Madame sees some new lambs, resting her bike on mine as I sit and watch the river. There is no sound more soothing than moving water on a warm day.
Leaving the River Fowey we push uphill again, my breathing ragged and legs on fire, to reach the summit of the hill only to be immediately faced with a steep drop down into the next valley. And so it goes on through the afternoon; up, up up, down, down ,down. These are more empty lanes, the surface broken and scattered with rain washed soil and gravel, a ridge of grass up the centre. I am pleased to have 32mm wide tyres even if they do slow me up on the hills. The bike vibrates and bucks as it runs downhill, my hands on the brakes, peering around the bends to see where we are going next, the thought of a vehicle on these lanes the last thing on my mind.
We are deep down in these lanes, the hedges sitting on banks, the road surface dug into the land so we can see no more than the next bend with no real idea of where we are. There is one savage hill, rising for 400 feet and always 8-10%, those angles seem like resting places compared to the ramps where it kicks up to 17%, 18% or even 20%. This lane is littered with false summits, always pretending it will finish soon, promising to give me some relief from this continuous journey upwards but each time as I round the bend, it rises again. I am soaked through with sweat at the top and stand astride my bike, legs trembling, heart thumping, breathing as deeply as I can as my body continues to demand oxygen. Madame photographs me. She has been here for a while and points out her battery is running low. So is mine I tell her.
Convinced that this is the last hill we continue down, the road cut into the hillside with a big drop on the left and a view across a secret valley, glimpsed between trees. It would be a fast descent if it were not so rough.
It is not the last hill. There are more. I yearn for something flat or even just sloping. Something other than hills where my front wheel is lifting off the ground followed by descents where my brakes are cooking all the way down.These are not flowing descents but a nervy bump down potholed tarmac and gravel tracks, twisting left then right between granite lined walls and tall hedges, our vision ahead limited to ten or twenty yards. Lower down we are in the woods, cool green havens for the deer I glimpse once or twice and then higher up once again after yet another ascent, we can see across the moors. The extensive view is reward for our efforts.
There has to be a final hill however and it does arrive bringing us back onto wider lanes and then a road with vehicles, more level country now with tidy hedgerows and cultivated fields. A mellow finish to the day and after a 120 miles and 10000 feet of climbing in the last three days, I need a mellow finish.
This is a beast of a ride, appropriately enough on Bodmin Moor with its stories of escaped panthers or maybe more mysterious beasts, lost in Cornwall's mists. Tomorrow it will rain - and for once I am glad. I need the rest.
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kj92
Well-Known Member
I was just looking at this thread to muster up some motivation to get on my bike... I didn't realise you guys go for such MASSIVE rides! Fair play to you all.
I've set myself a very small target of 20km per week, and I've just about been hitting it, but I know it's something I need to improve... Anyway - as you were, chaps! Great photos and write ups!
I've set myself a very small target of 20km per week, and I've just about been hitting it, but I know it's something I need to improve... Anyway - as you were, chaps! Great photos and write ups!
gavgav
Legendary Member
You are getting out and that’s all that matters. Distance will come, over time.
Time you did one, we're looking forward to seeing some Brommie adventures, doesn't need to be far, some of our rides are 10 miles, still fun though and plenty to see!
Town and city centres are great places to ride and photograph during the lockdown.
kj92
Well-Known Member
Nice one, thanks for the encouragement!! This photo was from my last Southend Seafront ride... but I feel like I'm ready for another route I haven't tried yet.
Going to get some lunch made now, then will update you all 😁
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ruffers
Guru
- Location
- bury, lancs
you will get the mileage if you want, best thing, just keep riding 👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻
Brrrshivercold this morning, did someone turn the calendar back to February? Time for a ride, no matter the temperature, oooh look, its raining too!!
By the time I had taken the fixed out the weather had dried off, more or less doing what the forecast had said it should. Sometimes lucky happens. From home, through Holbeck to Oakwood I enjoyed the breeze in my face. Leave Leeds behind on the A58, up that hill I did not enjoy what was now a wind in my face, but it would be better on the return leg.
Turn right onto Carr Lane for a different approach to Thorner and leave the village up Church Hill on the way to Bramham. After the hill it is easy pedalling all the way to the dip at Wothersome. The climb out of there with only the one gear slows things a little. There is a bridge across the A1 M before turning right to ride onto Paradise Way. There must be a story behind that name, or inebriation. It should be Cross Tenter Hill, or better, Tenter Cross. Anyway, whatever it is called it eventually reaches Aberford.
And the third or fourth shower of the morning. Proper rain has not happened for quite a while now, the bikes are becoming dusty! Which is fine by me, less cleaning to do. So, ride the dusty, streaky bike along Cattle Lane to Barwick in Elmet. Enjoying all the different greens and other colours in the fields that border the road, even better when the sun peeps from behind a cloud. And the birds feeding too. All sorts I cannot identify, too small and far away, but the pheasant, the male in particular, are obvious. And numerous. Eating the farmer’s seeds.
Onward. Scholes, and almost back into Thorner before turning off to find the A58 again. For a change at the Ring Road turn right and after a couple of miles there is Moortown. Left onto Street Lane and a right by the clock at Oakwood for the familiar end, back across Crown Point Bridge and home to complete thirty five miles of sort of cool but very enjoyable riding. Worth a grin at least.
Only the map,
By the time I had taken the fixed out the weather had dried off, more or less doing what the forecast had said it should. Sometimes lucky happens. From home, through Holbeck to Oakwood I enjoyed the breeze in my face. Leave Leeds behind on the A58, up that hill I did not enjoy what was now a wind in my face, but it would be better on the return leg.
Turn right onto Carr Lane for a different approach to Thorner and leave the village up Church Hill on the way to Bramham. After the hill it is easy pedalling all the way to the dip at Wothersome. The climb out of there with only the one gear slows things a little. There is a bridge across the A1 M before turning right to ride onto Paradise Way. There must be a story behind that name, or inebriation. It should be Cross Tenter Hill, or better, Tenter Cross. Anyway, whatever it is called it eventually reaches Aberford.
And the third or fourth shower of the morning. Proper rain has not happened for quite a while now, the bikes are becoming dusty! Which is fine by me, less cleaning to do. So, ride the dusty, streaky bike along Cattle Lane to Barwick in Elmet. Enjoying all the different greens and other colours in the fields that border the road, even better when the sun peeps from behind a cloud. And the birds feeding too. All sorts I cannot identify, too small and far away, but the pheasant, the male in particular, are obvious. And numerous. Eating the farmer’s seeds.
Onward. Scholes, and almost back into Thorner before turning off to find the A58 again. For a change at the Ring Road turn right and after a couple of miles there is Moortown. Left onto Street Lane and a right by the clock at Oakwood for the familiar end, back across Crown Point Bridge and home to complete thirty five miles of sort of cool but very enjoyable riding. Worth a grin at least.
Only the map,
- Location
- Shrewsbury, Shropshire
From shorts and t-shirt on Saturday back to needing trousers and two fleeces today.
It's windy with it, so I kept things simple by getting the knockabout bike out and doing a Condover, Cross Houses, Cound, Acton Burnell, Longnor, Condover, Lyth Hill loop.
The change in conditions has kept the more casual exercisers at home this morning. Few people walking in the villages and almost none down the lanes. There were 10 cyclists out that I saw.
The conditions made this ride a bit of an effort and when I reached Cound I decided to take the direct route to Acton Burnell. This is a bit of a climb along a very narrow lane which was a slight worry social-distancing-wise, but with the exception of a tractor at Acton Pigott I had it completely to myself and had a helpful tailwind to boot.
On the gentle gradient up to Frodesley I had that rare experience of the perfect tailwind. The wind suddenly appeared to fall still and the speed crept up: 14, 15, 16, 17 mph before reaching the summit.
In contrast, after Longnor the wind was very definitely against me. It didn't seem too bad to start with as it was downhill but as the road levelled out I was plodding. After Ryton there is a nice bit of downhill into Condover where I can usually get up around 22 or 23 quite easily on this bike. Today I briefly saw 14 mph before the speed dropped back to 12 and it was an effort to maintain that.
Plodding up the main road didn't appeal this time so I headed over Lyth Hill where I might be slow but at least the traffic would be quiet. There were a few cars parked up at the top of the climb - I wonder how busy it will be up there after the rule changes from Wednesday?
21.7 miles at 13 mph average. I'm actually quite surprised it was as high as that this time.
Just a couple of snaps as I wasn't really thinking about photography.
The Wrekin from Berrington.
Ont the lane between Cound and Acton Pigott.
It's windy with it, so I kept things simple by getting the knockabout bike out and doing a Condover, Cross Houses, Cound, Acton Burnell, Longnor, Condover, Lyth Hill loop.The change in conditions has kept the more casual exercisers at home this morning. Few people walking in the villages and almost none down the lanes. There were 10 cyclists out that I saw.
The conditions made this ride a bit of an effort and when I reached Cound I decided to take the direct route to Acton Burnell. This is a bit of a climb along a very narrow lane which was a slight worry social-distancing-wise, but with the exception of a tractor at Acton Pigott I had it completely to myself and had a helpful tailwind to boot.
On the gentle gradient up to Frodesley I had that rare experience of the perfect tailwind. The wind suddenly appeared to fall still and the speed crept up: 14, 15, 16, 17 mph before reaching the summit.
In contrast, after Longnor the wind was very definitely against me. It didn't seem too bad to start with as it was downhill but as the road levelled out I was plodding. After Ryton there is a nice bit of downhill into Condover where I can usually get up around 22 or 23 quite easily on this bike. Today I briefly saw 14 mph before the speed dropped back to 12 and it was an effort to maintain that.
Plodding up the main road didn't appeal this time so I headed over Lyth Hill where I might be slow but at least the traffic would be quiet. There were a few cars parked up at the top of the climb - I wonder how busy it will be up there after the rule changes from Wednesday?
21.7 miles at 13 mph average. I'm actually quite surprised it was as high as that this time.
Just a couple of snaps as I wasn't really thinking about photography.
The Wrekin from Berrington.
Ont the lane between Cound and Acton Pigott.
kj92
Well-Known Member
As promised, I'm back from my ride... and I'm shattered!
Today I ventured out from Westcliff to Shoeburyness but taking a slightly different route, whilst actively encouraging myself to 'get lost' in my own town.
Here's a couple of snaps I took in various places 🤩
This is in the Thorpe Bay area.. just off of a roundabout (of which I can't remember the name of)
Adventure Island, on Southend Seafront
When I get myself up to scratch, I'd love to find some people to cycle with. Last time I did try catching up with another cyclist, and actually stumbled across him in Strava... how cool is that?! For now, I might aim to reach 40km for this week as opposed to my usual 20km goal.
Attachments
EltonFrog
Legendary Member
Another trip to the shops today to buy the custard I forgot to buy yesterday. It’s mostly sunny out but cold and feckin windy, I hate the feckin wind, wind get on my feckin nerves. Anyway a similar trip to yesterday, 6.28 miles. Not the sort of trip for photos and anyway I forgot to take my mobile device.
theloafer
Legendary Member
- Location
- newton aycliffe
took a Banana cake over to Billingham for the Karon and my fav MIL social distancing adhered to .that bloody wind was very chilly had to dress like winter. bypassed the the Wynyard cycle route as i was only there last Friday, straight on to Wolviston where this time i was able to find the cycle path rather than use the busy Hartlepool roundabout ... passed a beautiful mural to the NHS .
Karon asked if i had and when i said no she look shocked as its very hard to miss
.. on my return leg as i hate going the same way back (OCD) took a green lane route to Aycliffe village and up through the industrial estate to call in at workplace to see the few that started back last week it was knocking off time. ... 34 enjoyable miles if a tad breezy but then an e-bike just laughs at the wind 
https://www.strava.com/activities/3434454536
Karon asked if i had and when i said no she look shocked as its very hard to miss
.. on my return leg as i hate going the same way back (OCD) took a green lane route to Aycliffe village and up through the industrial estate to call in at workplace to see the few that started back last week it was knocking off time. ... 34 enjoyable miles if a tad breezy but then an e-bike just laughs at the wind https://www.strava.com/activities/3434454536
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Donger
Convoi Exceptionnel
- Location
- Quedgeley, Glos.
I'm trying to keep up with doing 20 miles a day for as long as possible this month. The last two days have been a struggle though. Yesterday the wind was just brutal, so I settled for the 12 miles I needed to just about keep on target. Even then, I had to use sneaky tactics. I ended up doing a sort of spiral route, doing ever decreasing circles around the housing estates of Hardwicke, with each loop having a shorter stint straight into the headwind at the top of the loop.
Today was just a straightforward windy day, and I reverted to a 20 mile loop heading out via Haresfield, Standish, Whitminster and Frampton, gritting my teeth for the last 9 miles into a stiffening headwind. It ended up being quite a workout.
Looks like the wind will be dying down over the next few days, so I intend to keep the 20 milers up. Can't wait to get No.1 bike back from the LBS though (it turns out I snapped the thread on one of the cranks) as it takes quite some cadence to average 13mph on my temporarily 9-speed No.2 bike. That's 221 miles so far in May, so still on target. Keep plugging away everyone. Nice to see some new members posting.
Cheers, Donger.
Today was just a straightforward windy day, and I reverted to a 20 mile loop heading out via Haresfield, Standish, Whitminster and Frampton, gritting my teeth for the last 9 miles into a stiffening headwind. It ended up being quite a workout.
Looks like the wind will be dying down over the next few days, so I intend to keep the 20 milers up. Can't wait to get No.1 bike back from the LBS though (it turns out I snapped the thread on one of the cranks) as it takes quite some cadence to average 13mph on my temporarily 9-speed No.2 bike. That's 221 miles so far in May, so still on target. Keep plugging away everyone. Nice to see some new members posting.
Cheers, Donger.
kj92
Well-Known Member
20 miles a DAY? That's quite something!! Nice one 👏 that's a good bit of motivation right there...
