Your ride today....
- Thread starter gbb
- Start date
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Looks like an Ariel Square Four
Jenkins
Legendary Member
- Location
- Felixstowe
I set out to do the June 50 mile challenge ride this afternoon in most un-June like weather under grey skies and with a cold northerly wind needing bib tights, thermal base layer & arm warmers with the jersey. Over a mug of coffee this morning I devised a route which looked as though it would do the required mileage, but didn't bother checking the mileage with mapping software. Most importantly the first part was into the wind so that I'd have the benefit of the tail wind for the return leg.
Heading out on the usual Falkenham, Kirton & Newbourne run to Martlesham, then up Beacon Hill and turning off for the multiple down & ups through Little Bealings to Hasketon
Continuing roughly northwards and through Bredfield where there seemed to be some form of scarecrow competiton going on with various houses having displays outside, this being my favourite
The run northwards continued through Dallinghoo, Charsfield & Hoo where a short ride across to Monewden started the home run through Clopton Green to Tuddenham St. Martin and large amouts of open countrside with only the occasional farm building, house and space/time travel device to be seen
A short diversion through Westerfield and then back again to Rushmere St. Andrew where one of the duck ponds appears to have become home to a pair of moorhens and seven chicks
On reaching St. Augustine's roundabout which I know to be 9 miles from home, I realised that I would overshoot my target by a couple of miles so why not extend it a bit more and get in the June 100k challenge ride instead. All this needed was to go back home via Falkenham instead of Trimley St. Martin and a short loop round Felixstowe and back.
All done and I rewarded myself with a Magnum ice cream and a mug of coffee when I got home.
Heading out on the usual Falkenham, Kirton & Newbourne run to Martlesham, then up Beacon Hill and turning off for the multiple down & ups through Little Bealings to Hasketon
Continuing roughly northwards and through Bredfield where there seemed to be some form of scarecrow competiton going on with various houses having displays outside, this being my favourite
The run northwards continued through Dallinghoo, Charsfield & Hoo where a short ride across to Monewden started the home run through Clopton Green to Tuddenham St. Martin and large amouts of open countrside with only the occasional farm building, house and space/time travel device to be seen
A short diversion through Westerfield and then back again to Rushmere St. Andrew where one of the duck ponds appears to have become home to a pair of moorhens and seven chicks
On reaching St. Augustine's roundabout which I know to be 9 miles from home, I realised that I would overshoot my target by a couple of miles so why not extend it a bit more and get in the June 100k challenge ride instead. All this needed was to go back home via Falkenham instead of Trimley St. Martin and a short loop round Felixstowe and back.
All done and I rewarded myself with a Magnum ice cream and a mug of coffee when I got home.
Early out on local but less frequented roads by me. A cool morning but as fresh as it gets. I'm supposed to be retired but I have a busy day ahead and so it was back in for about 6.30.
Cross Gates, Colton, Woodlesford, Castleford, Allerton Bywater, Little Preston and Great Preston, Garforth, Colton Cross gates and home after a loop around the block. Plotted route rather than recorded.
25.7 miles and 1200 ft of up. Fixed wheel.
View: https://ridewithgps.com/trips/50435759
Cross Gates, Colton, Woodlesford, Castleford, Allerton Bywater, Little Preston and Great Preston, Garforth, Colton Cross gates and home after a loop around the block. Plotted route rather than recorded.
25.7 miles and 1200 ft of up. Fixed wheel.
View: https://ridewithgps.com/trips/50435759
Last edited:
welsh dragon
Thanks but no thanks. I think I'll pass.
I would like to say it is a nice day today, but it isn't. Dull, overcast and with a lot of dark clouds. Just ten miles for me mainly to test out my new tyre.
footloose crow
Veteran
- Location
- Cornwall. UK
8 June. The TLET
The oncologist walks into the room. Under his arm is my X -ray image. I am trying to read his expression but he is in full PPE. We talk pleasantries for a bit. Is he softening me up? "So" he says " your lungs are pristine....see you in six months. Looking good."
I have been nervous for a few days. Nervous like an anxious cat walking through a dogs home, analysing every small pain, every intake of breath. I go home and think about what to do to celebrate and decide to do the thing I have been thinking about for a couple of weeks. The TLET. Truro- Lands End - Truro.
It is almost noon as I set off with a saddle pack full of food and two water bottles. I am still in the shielding group and have been reminded this morning that I have to continue avoiding shops and crowds. Well there are no crowds heading for Lands End today. Roads are back to being corona quiet and the ride is along lanes, still wet from yesterdays rain and still with a central line of gravel and debris along the centre. My new gravel wheels laugh at this tiny heap of rain washed debris until a bend where the front wheel wants to go a different way to the back wheel. Maybe I should slow down.
Green tunnels and dappled lanes
After forty minutes I can see the north coast across the patchworked fields and the inevitable and iconic mine chimney and engine house silhouetted against the Atlantic, a blue stripe beneath a paler sky. To my left clouds are building and it is getting colder. Rain is forecast and all day it threatens but never reaches the north coast, simply wetting the interior and south. Madame Crow texts me a picture of heavy rain from home and I send her one of sunshine and some blue sky.
Up through the mining village of Illogan on an unnecessarily steep hill, four square granite houses built on 18th century prosperity and now neglected with a Costcutter looking to be the centre of village life. Up onto the cliff road that dips and rises but is never more than a field away from the sea's edge and at times no more than a quick flick of the handlebars into oblivion. The signs put up by The Samaritans attests to the ease with which this part of Cornwall allows a quick exit from life's cares with a headlong plunge into the cold Atlantic waves. Today there are hippy vans with stove pipes projecting from the roof of converted mobile libraries and ambulances, hand painted with murals. They are always along here now in the corona abandoned car parks and lay-bys. I love this section and pause to look down to the sea a hundred feet lower and the coastline etched in this cloud tinged light into distinct bands of colour, more like a painting than anything real.
I set Hayle as my initial target as Lands End was too far and I knew it would daunt me. But feeling good I spin through the town admiring the estuary with its rotting yachts and old fishing boats all sitting on the low tide mud, the light reflecting on the water and glistening sand. The next section runs from the north coast to the south coast at Marazion and I know I am close when St Micheal's Mount suddenly appears across the wetlands.
I have a saddle pack full of food and wet weather clothing and food is high on my agenda and Penzance is the next destination. I may or may not go to Lands End. We will see, but I do want some lunch as it is past 2pm.
Penzance is under a blue sky and warm sitting on the hot granite wall by the harbour. The Scillonian is dried out by the mole as it has been all year. No one has been able to go to the Isles of Scilly apart from residents and they are using the small twin prop plane or the cargo boat to travel to the mainland.
I text Madame Crow as I scoff the sandwiches. "Lands End next?". "Why not" she replies. So along the cycle path that follows the curve of Penzance bay and through Newlyn, the air sharp with a smell of fish and the harbour more busy with small boats unloading their catch than I expected. Past the Swordfish pub, rated as one of the toughest pubs in Britain with a toilet bin for needles. Deep sea fishermen and heroin seem to go together. A final glimpse of St Micheals Mount as I start the uphill behind the harbour and then along the coast, distant views of the Lizard and past the Penlee Lifeboat house, the scene of the huge loss of life in 1981when all eight lifeboatmen drowned on a rescue.
Mousehole is beautiful but quiet with the tea rooms closed and no tourists. June would be a peak month here and the harbour area crowded with older visitors avoiding the busy school holiday months.
There is a steep hill out of Mousehole. I know it is coming because we went down it a few weeks ago on a tour of West Penwith. I know it is sustained 15% for about half a mile, then 10% for a bit then a final 12-15% kick. I have been dreading it. Out of the saddle to begin, past houses stacked above each other looking for a sea view, each higher than its neighbour as the slope steepens. Then sat down, pushing against the back of the saddle, arms straight and not looking how far it is to go. It is less hard than I envisaged but hard enough and I am pleased to reach the top where a glance at the Wahoo tells me there is only sixty seven miles left to go. That's a 100k ride from this point!
The lanes go on, dropping down to Lamorna Cove and then twisting up and down the hidden valleys and sudden hills, past dilapidated farms and the granite squat villages clustered around a too big church. I can see the north coast again at Sennen village and I am on hallowed ground now for cyclists, the final run to Lands End and I notice later on Strava that I have gone from being 40th or so on the lanes to 2178th on this road. Lands End arrives with a downhill and I blast through the admission gates at 20mph. The car park is closed, the amenities shuttered and there is not a soul to be seen. The only sign of life is a plastic bag rolling across the gravel path that leads to the iconic Lands End finger post. Which is a little disappointing as the fingers have been removed and it is just a post. Now I will never know how far it is to John o' Groats or New York. But I know how far it is back to Truro - 51 miles. Madame Crow texts me to say it is still raining in Truro. It is rather warm here I tell her.
It is past 4pm now and there is another 3-4 hours cycling so I don't hang about but head back, this time along the opposite coast hugging the north side and heading for Zennor. The road from Lands End to St Ives along the north coast is rated as one of the best drives in Britain and I would argue, without having been everywhere, that today in a corona induced traffic free afternoon, it is one of the top ten cycling roads as well. It is hilly in places and my knees are starting to complain. I worry about passing time, although it won't be dark until 9pm, as I only have daylight flashers, not night lights. I don't stop for food but hustle along the road, distracted by the broad sweep of the Atlantic to my left and the open moorland of West Penwith, studded with granite outcrops and dotted with gorse and bracken.
Back through Hayle and then Portreath. A halt for a gel and a cereal bar and then up the long uphill to Redruth. The evening is coming and with it this road appears to be used for racing and I have more close passes and near misses in twenty minutes than I have had for the last year. With relief I turn back onto lanes and up the final hill to the top of Truro. I know I can make it from here and the Wahoo is counting down the last miles to that 100 figure. I reach it a mile from home.
I slept for 11 hours last night and I will not be bothering the bike for a day or two. I have a new appreciation for endurance riders and am not sure if I could have done the another 40k to make it a 200k ride. Maybe somewhere flatter. But that is for the future.
So my first century and what did I learn? That you just keep turning the pedals and you get there eventually. That you eat a lot on long rides. That my bib shorts are not as comfortable as I thought. That it is a psychological barrier as much as a physical one and that the ability to absorb pain and keep going is as important as fitness and more important than the bike. Always another dream....200k next. But not this week.
The oncologist walks into the room. Under his arm is my X -ray image. I am trying to read his expression but he is in full PPE. We talk pleasantries for a bit. Is he softening me up? "So" he says " your lungs are pristine....see you in six months. Looking good."
I have been nervous for a few days. Nervous like an anxious cat walking through a dogs home, analysing every small pain, every intake of breath. I go home and think about what to do to celebrate and decide to do the thing I have been thinking about for a couple of weeks. The TLET. Truro- Lands End - Truro.
It is almost noon as I set off with a saddle pack full of food and two water bottles. I am still in the shielding group and have been reminded this morning that I have to continue avoiding shops and crowds. Well there are no crowds heading for Lands End today. Roads are back to being corona quiet and the ride is along lanes, still wet from yesterdays rain and still with a central line of gravel and debris along the centre. My new gravel wheels laugh at this tiny heap of rain washed debris until a bend where the front wheel wants to go a different way to the back wheel. Maybe I should slow down.
Green tunnels and dappled lanes
After forty minutes I can see the north coast across the patchworked fields and the inevitable and iconic mine chimney and engine house silhouetted against the Atlantic, a blue stripe beneath a paler sky. To my left clouds are building and it is getting colder. Rain is forecast and all day it threatens but never reaches the north coast, simply wetting the interior and south. Madame Crow texts me a picture of heavy rain from home and I send her one of sunshine and some blue sky.
Up through the mining village of Illogan on an unnecessarily steep hill, four square granite houses built on 18th century prosperity and now neglected with a Costcutter looking to be the centre of village life. Up onto the cliff road that dips and rises but is never more than a field away from the sea's edge and at times no more than a quick flick of the handlebars into oblivion. The signs put up by The Samaritans attests to the ease with which this part of Cornwall allows a quick exit from life's cares with a headlong plunge into the cold Atlantic waves. Today there are hippy vans with stove pipes projecting from the roof of converted mobile libraries and ambulances, hand painted with murals. They are always along here now in the corona abandoned car parks and lay-bys. I love this section and pause to look down to the sea a hundred feet lower and the coastline etched in this cloud tinged light into distinct bands of colour, more like a painting than anything real.
I set Hayle as my initial target as Lands End was too far and I knew it would daunt me. But feeling good I spin through the town admiring the estuary with its rotting yachts and old fishing boats all sitting on the low tide mud, the light reflecting on the water and glistening sand. The next section runs from the north coast to the south coast at Marazion and I know I am close when St Micheal's Mount suddenly appears across the wetlands.
I have a saddle pack full of food and wet weather clothing and food is high on my agenda and Penzance is the next destination. I may or may not go to Lands End. We will see, but I do want some lunch as it is past 2pm.
Penzance is under a blue sky and warm sitting on the hot granite wall by the harbour. The Scillonian is dried out by the mole as it has been all year. No one has been able to go to the Isles of Scilly apart from residents and they are using the small twin prop plane or the cargo boat to travel to the mainland.
I text Madame Crow as I scoff the sandwiches. "Lands End next?". "Why not" she replies. So along the cycle path that follows the curve of Penzance bay and through Newlyn, the air sharp with a smell of fish and the harbour more busy with small boats unloading their catch than I expected. Past the Swordfish pub, rated as one of the toughest pubs in Britain with a toilet bin for needles. Deep sea fishermen and heroin seem to go together. A final glimpse of St Micheals Mount as I start the uphill behind the harbour and then along the coast, distant views of the Lizard and past the Penlee Lifeboat house, the scene of the huge loss of life in 1981when all eight lifeboatmen drowned on a rescue.
Mousehole is beautiful but quiet with the tea rooms closed and no tourists. June would be a peak month here and the harbour area crowded with older visitors avoiding the busy school holiday months.
There is a steep hill out of Mousehole. I know it is coming because we went down it a few weeks ago on a tour of West Penwith. I know it is sustained 15% for about half a mile, then 10% for a bit then a final 12-15% kick. I have been dreading it. Out of the saddle to begin, past houses stacked above each other looking for a sea view, each higher than its neighbour as the slope steepens. Then sat down, pushing against the back of the saddle, arms straight and not looking how far it is to go. It is less hard than I envisaged but hard enough and I am pleased to reach the top where a glance at the Wahoo tells me there is only sixty seven miles left to go. That's a 100k ride from this point!
The lanes go on, dropping down to Lamorna Cove and then twisting up and down the hidden valleys and sudden hills, past dilapidated farms and the granite squat villages clustered around a too big church. I can see the north coast again at Sennen village and I am on hallowed ground now for cyclists, the final run to Lands End and I notice later on Strava that I have gone from being 40th or so on the lanes to 2178th on this road. Lands End arrives with a downhill and I blast through the admission gates at 20mph. The car park is closed, the amenities shuttered and there is not a soul to be seen. The only sign of life is a plastic bag rolling across the gravel path that leads to the iconic Lands End finger post. Which is a little disappointing as the fingers have been removed and it is just a post. Now I will never know how far it is to John o' Groats or New York. But I know how far it is back to Truro - 51 miles. Madame Crow texts me to say it is still raining in Truro. It is rather warm here I tell her.
It is past 4pm now and there is another 3-4 hours cycling so I don't hang about but head back, this time along the opposite coast hugging the north side and heading for Zennor. The road from Lands End to St Ives along the north coast is rated as one of the best drives in Britain and I would argue, without having been everywhere, that today in a corona induced traffic free afternoon, it is one of the top ten cycling roads as well. It is hilly in places and my knees are starting to complain. I worry about passing time, although it won't be dark until 9pm, as I only have daylight flashers, not night lights. I don't stop for food but hustle along the road, distracted by the broad sweep of the Atlantic to my left and the open moorland of West Penwith, studded with granite outcrops and dotted with gorse and bracken.
Back through Hayle and then Portreath. A halt for a gel and a cereal bar and then up the long uphill to Redruth. The evening is coming and with it this road appears to be used for racing and I have more close passes and near misses in twenty minutes than I have had for the last year. With relief I turn back onto lanes and up the final hill to the top of Truro. I know I can make it from here and the Wahoo is counting down the last miles to that 100 figure. I reach it a mile from home.
I slept for 11 hours last night and I will not be bothering the bike for a day or two. I have a new appreciation for endurance riders and am not sure if I could have done the another 40k to make it a 200k ride. Maybe somewhere flatter. But that is for the future.
So my first century and what did I learn? That you just keep turning the pedals and you get there eventually. That you eat a lot on long rides. That my bib shorts are not as comfortable as I thought. That it is a psychological barrier as much as a physical one and that the ability to absorb pain and keep going is as important as fitness and more important than the bike. Always another dream....200k next. But not this week.
DCBassman
Guru
- Location
- The lumpy far South West
A different loop for me today, even got lost a bit...Had hoped to emerge along Crease lane and reverse my normal path along the Viaduct Walk/NCN270, but went wrong somewhere. Anyhow, new lanes seen.
One close pass and one really close pass.
Very upsy-downsy, but then this IS Devon...
On the Trek, as the vintage 105 brakes have not yet arrived for the Scott.
Gratuitous pic of my bike under another bike.
Stats.
One close pass and one really close pass.
Very upsy-downsy, but then this IS Devon...
On the Trek, as the vintage 105 brakes have not yet arrived for the Scott.
Gratuitous pic of my bike under another bike.
Stats.
gavgav
Legendary Member
Out for another Half Century Ride, with the very pleasant company of @Rickshaw Phil today. I came up with a route over the weekend and had kept it a mystery tour, for Phil.
It was cloudier today and quite cool, to start with, so I donned a windproof jacket, which kept the chill off. I met Phil down by a nearby pub and then took a meandering route out of Shrewsbury, where we came out at Bicton. The main road section to Montford Bridge, was fine and we then branched off onto lanes to Adcote and Great Ness, where we turned onto new territory, around the back off the Cliffe Hill and onto Hopton.
Soon after Hopton, we reached a road closed sign and so got the map out, to see what diversion options there were, which weren’t great. So we decided to head down to the works, that we could see in the distance, to see what the lie of the land was. We managed to walk the bikes around the closure, just squeezing past on the verge and continued on in the direction of Ruyton XI Towns.
I wasn’t entirely sure of my way, round these lanes and we soon arrived at the old A5, which wasn’t where we should have been! Quick check of the map and I’d turned us left at the previous t-junction, when it should have been right and so we doubled back and onto the lane we should have taken.
We crossed the Ruyton road, where a police car was in the lay-by, keeping an eye on people’s speed, down Abbots Lane and continued on the new territory to Grug Hill, Tedsmore, Haughton and Rednal, where we crossed through the old airfield.
The road to Hordley was busier than when I’d ridden it in the opposite direction, last week, before we joined the bumpy road to Tetchill. We had to get the map out again, to ensure we took the correct lane to Lee and then it’s quite a lumpy section over Spunhill, to Whitemere, where we paused for a photo opportunity
Next was Colemere, where there were quite a few people at the car park, with a few picnicking, including a couple with tables, chairs and bottle of wine. That’s how it should be done!!
I was on new territory again here, to Lyneal and Loppington. We had a funny moment, just before the village, when we came up behind a couple, walking, Phil rang the bell and they both danced in completely opposite directions, about 4 times, before choosing the left, with the chap pulling his coat over his head in embarrassment
In Loppington, we turned left at the pub, onto Noneley and Tilley, where we crossed the railway line, walking the bikes over the tracks, pausing for lunch on the other side. A train came through, just after Phil had said I wonder if a train will come past. 4 carriages and it was very empty, a sign of the continued situation we find ourselves in.
We crossed the first main road, down the lane towards Barkers Green, before turning onto the busy main road towards Shawbury. A couple of stupid overtakes from drivers, who didn’t plan ahead, into the path of oncoming traffic. We crossed the A49, fairly easily, continuing onto Shawbury and Roden, where another lane we wanted was closed! Again, it seemed passable, by bike, so we braved it, with just trenches down the verges and no sign of anyone working.
A few minutes beforehand, I’d been remarking to Phil that I hoped the lovely pub in Shawbury, was going to be ok through the crisis. A cyclist, coming from the opposite direction, asked me if she was ok to get through the closure and it was the landlady of said pub!! Good odds of that happening.
I was just starting to feel the legs a bit, now, but it wasn’t too bad, on the lanes to Rodington Heath, Upton Magna and Berwick Wharf. The rat run to Atcham included an unnecessary close pass from a transit. We crossed the river, via the old bridge and Phil pointed out a large tree, in the garden of the Malthouse Hotel, that had come down in the wind last weekend, into the River.
The final lumpy stretch over Chilton and up to Betton, was a pull on tired legs, before we overtook a couple of cyclists and so can’t have been doing too badly on the speed front.
We went our separate ways at my junction and I’d completed 55.37 miles, at 12.7mph avg.
Really enjoyable ride
It was cloudier today and quite cool, to start with, so I donned a windproof jacket, which kept the chill off. I met Phil down by a nearby pub and then took a meandering route out of Shrewsbury, where we came out at Bicton. The main road section to Montford Bridge, was fine and we then branched off onto lanes to Adcote and Great Ness, where we turned onto new territory, around the back off the Cliffe Hill and onto Hopton.
Soon after Hopton, we reached a road closed sign and so got the map out, to see what diversion options there were, which weren’t great. So we decided to head down to the works, that we could see in the distance, to see what the lie of the land was. We managed to walk the bikes around the closure, just squeezing past on the verge and continued on in the direction of Ruyton XI Towns.
I wasn’t entirely sure of my way, round these lanes and we soon arrived at the old A5, which wasn’t where we should have been! Quick check of the map and I’d turned us left at the previous t-junction, when it should have been right and so we doubled back and onto the lane we should have taken.
We crossed the Ruyton road, where a police car was in the lay-by, keeping an eye on people’s speed, down Abbots Lane and continued on the new territory to Grug Hill, Tedsmore, Haughton and Rednal, where we crossed through the old airfield.
The road to Hordley was busier than when I’d ridden it in the opposite direction, last week, before we joined the bumpy road to Tetchill. We had to get the map out again, to ensure we took the correct lane to Lee and then it’s quite a lumpy section over Spunhill, to Whitemere, where we paused for a photo opportunity
Next was Colemere, where there were quite a few people at the car park, with a few picnicking, including a couple with tables, chairs and bottle of wine. That’s how it should be done!!
I was on new territory again here, to Lyneal and Loppington. We had a funny moment, just before the village, when we came up behind a couple, walking, Phil rang the bell and they both danced in completely opposite directions, about 4 times, before choosing the left, with the chap pulling his coat over his head in embarrassment
In Loppington, we turned left at the pub, onto Noneley and Tilley, where we crossed the railway line, walking the bikes over the tracks, pausing for lunch on the other side. A train came through, just after Phil had said I wonder if a train will come past. 4 carriages and it was very empty, a sign of the continued situation we find ourselves in.
We crossed the first main road, down the lane towards Barkers Green, before turning onto the busy main road towards Shawbury. A couple of stupid overtakes from drivers, who didn’t plan ahead, into the path of oncoming traffic. We crossed the A49, fairly easily, continuing onto Shawbury and Roden, where another lane we wanted was closed! Again, it seemed passable, by bike, so we braved it, with just trenches down the verges and no sign of anyone working.
A few minutes beforehand, I’d been remarking to Phil that I hoped the lovely pub in Shawbury, was going to be ok through the crisis. A cyclist, coming from the opposite direction, asked me if she was ok to get through the closure and it was the landlady of said pub!! Good odds of that happening.
I was just starting to feel the legs a bit, now, but it wasn’t too bad, on the lanes to Rodington Heath, Upton Magna and Berwick Wharf. The rat run to Atcham included an unnecessary close pass from a transit. We crossed the river, via the old bridge and Phil pointed out a large tree, in the garden of the Malthouse Hotel, that had come down in the wind last weekend, into the River.
The final lumpy stretch over Chilton and up to Betton, was a pull on tired legs, before we overtook a couple of cyclists and so can’t have been doing too badly on the speed front.
We went our separate ways at my junction and I’d completed 55.37 miles, at 12.7mph avg.
Really enjoyable ride
@footloose crow ,A Cornish ton deserves a 
. Well done
. Well done
Dragged myself out of bed "early" thanks to the critical egg situation; consuming my final two for breakfast.
I hit the egg-man's palatial country pile first, to find the honesty-shed once again bereft of what I was after. Another couple of miles later I reached the farm to joyously discover maybe two and a half trays left. One whole tray decanted into the five boxes in my bag, now six quid (20% price hike!) depositied into the honesty box and starvation-anxiety abated, I was on my way again.
It was a nice day and I dislike retracing my steps so I headed east out of the farm, shortly after making a spur-of-the-moment decision to head south to Wantage since my legs felt better than expected and being out on the bike's preferable to rotting at home.
From Wantage I headed east through Harwell to East Hagbourne - dubious name; lovely almost-comically-picturesque village. On my way in I passed fields of unfeasibly content cattle - a heard of heffers and calves running and jumping around for some reason, while those in an adjacent field reclined in the sun, their ears occasionally twitching to keep the flies off.
East Hagbourne's war memorial:
Next it was north around the outskirts of Didcot and onward to Long Wittenham; whose distant clumps were ogled from a farm track I'd mistaken for the bridleway and subsequently trespassed on..
Back-tracking I found the correct route down a wide, hedged path; my passage being accompanied by goldfinches, yellowhammers, blackbirds and wagtails flitting between the hedges in front of me. The track opened out into a cow field which gave a pretty bumpy ride, eventually hitting the Thames and following it west-ish for a bit.
I stopped at an appropriate spot to swill my face and arms with the cool water and watch the teaming wildlife around me - plenty of fry in the crystal clear shallows of the river as well as the odd dragonfly and damselfly.. I also spotted some sort of monument / folly on the other side of the river but I'm not sure what it was. It's immortalised in ten potatophone pixels in the terrible image below:
Unfamiliar, this spot seemed quite secluded.. however this turned out not to be the case as the journey to the nearest road proved short; punctuated by the somewhat disapproving looks of well-dressed middle-class picnickers on the banks as I hauled my sweaty, red-faced, panting carcass past their otherwise tranquil lunch.
From Clifton Hampden I continued north-east through Little Baldon and Chiselhampton, then north through Chippinghurst. The thin grey line on my head unit that signified a bridleway back onto the Wheatley road looked innocent enough.. but turned out to be a significant climb (in terms of both distance and grad - topping out at 12.7%) all on relatively rough / loose ground. It took me all I had to slog my way up it in the lowest gear, dodging the myriad butterflies that seems intend on getting run over or shredded by my spokes. I think they all survived though and it was nice to see so many
Once I hit the road at the top I was drenched in sweat having exerted myself more than planned, but at least that aided the wind in cooling my probably-now-sunburnt lobster-face. I continued through Wheatley and on to Forest Hill and Stanton St-John, before finally admitted defeat and descending back into the city along Bayswater Road, through Headington and home.
Before leaving I was a bit concerned as to how my legs would stand up to the egg-run after yesterday's 51-miler, however they felt surprisingly OK at today's (mostly) low exertion levels.. so much so that I managed just under 54 miles
The ride included about 1400ft of ascent and was completed at around 13.4mph; taking just over 4hrs at an average of 120bpm and apparently burning around 2100kcal.
If the Polar calcs are to be believed I've expended around 4300kcal over the past two days, which is about 2.5 day's worth of energy at my forecast BMR... I've also eaten pretty well over the two days as well (not a massive amount of low-carb food) so this should hopefully give the slightly stagnating weight loss the shot in the arm it needs.
Today's effort brings me to just under 105 miles completed so far this week / over the past two days (has to be a personal record), around 174 miles in the past 7 days, about 227 miles so far this month and 1010 miles on the CdF since I got it around two months ago - can't say I'm not getting my money's worth
The weather's supposed to be crap tomorrow, which will probably be a blessing tbh to allow my legs and sore arse to recover.. if it does turn out to be acceptable I might just be persuaded to do a genuinely short, very low intensity recovery ride however..
EDIT: Another thumbs-up for @footloose crow's epic effort - I'm generally well-impressed by the achievements and quality of contributions in this thread, although never want to go too far off-topic by commenting on them all. Nice work folks 😊
I hit the egg-man's palatial country pile first, to find the honesty-shed once again bereft of what I was after. Another couple of miles later I reached the farm to joyously discover maybe two and a half trays left. One whole tray decanted into the five boxes in my bag, now six quid (20% price hike!) depositied into the honesty box and starvation-anxiety abated, I was on my way again.
It was a nice day and I dislike retracing my steps so I headed east out of the farm, shortly after making a spur-of-the-moment decision to head south to Wantage since my legs felt better than expected and being out on the bike's preferable to rotting at home.
From Wantage I headed east through Harwell to East Hagbourne - dubious name; lovely almost-comically-picturesque village. On my way in I passed fields of unfeasibly content cattle - a heard of heffers and calves running and jumping around for some reason, while those in an adjacent field reclined in the sun, their ears occasionally twitching to keep the flies off.
East Hagbourne's war memorial:
Next it was north around the outskirts of Didcot and onward to Long Wittenham; whose distant clumps were ogled from a farm track I'd mistaken for the bridleway and subsequently trespassed on..
Back-tracking I found the correct route down a wide, hedged path; my passage being accompanied by goldfinches, yellowhammers, blackbirds and wagtails flitting between the hedges in front of me. The track opened out into a cow field which gave a pretty bumpy ride, eventually hitting the Thames and following it west-ish for a bit.
I stopped at an appropriate spot to swill my face and arms with the cool water and watch the teaming wildlife around me - plenty of fry in the crystal clear shallows of the river as well as the odd dragonfly and damselfly.. I also spotted some sort of monument / folly on the other side of the river but I'm not sure what it was. It's immortalised in ten potatophone pixels in the terrible image below:
Unfamiliar, this spot seemed quite secluded.. however this turned out not to be the case as the journey to the nearest road proved short; punctuated by the somewhat disapproving looks of well-dressed middle-class picnickers on the banks as I hauled my sweaty, red-faced, panting carcass past their otherwise tranquil lunch.
From Clifton Hampden I continued north-east through Little Baldon and Chiselhampton, then north through Chippinghurst. The thin grey line on my head unit that signified a bridleway back onto the Wheatley road looked innocent enough.. but turned out to be a significant climb (in terms of both distance and grad - topping out at 12.7%) all on relatively rough / loose ground. It took me all I had to slog my way up it in the lowest gear, dodging the myriad butterflies that seems intend on getting run over or shredded by my spokes. I think they all survived though and it was nice to see so many
Once I hit the road at the top I was drenched in sweat having exerted myself more than planned, but at least that aided the wind in cooling my probably-now-sunburnt lobster-face. I continued through Wheatley and on to Forest Hill and Stanton St-John, before finally admitted defeat and descending back into the city along Bayswater Road, through Headington and home.
Before leaving I was a bit concerned as to how my legs would stand up to the egg-run after yesterday's 51-miler, however they felt surprisingly OK at today's (mostly) low exertion levels.. so much so that I managed just under 54 miles
The ride included about 1400ft of ascent and was completed at around 13.4mph; taking just over 4hrs at an average of 120bpm and apparently burning around 2100kcal.
If the Polar calcs are to be believed I've expended around 4300kcal over the past two days, which is about 2.5 day's worth of energy at my forecast BMR... I've also eaten pretty well over the two days as well (not a massive amount of low-carb food) so this should hopefully give the slightly stagnating weight loss the shot in the arm it needs.
Today's effort brings me to just under 105 miles completed so far this week / over the past two days (has to be a personal record), around 174 miles in the past 7 days, about 227 miles so far this month and 1010 miles on the CdF since I got it around two months ago - can't say I'm not getting my money's worth
The weather's supposed to be crap tomorrow, which will probably be a blessing tbh to allow my legs and sore arse to recover.. if it does turn out to be acceptable I might just be persuaded to do a genuinely short, very low intensity recovery ride however..
EDIT: Another thumbs-up for @footloose crow's epic effort - I'm generally well-impressed by the achievements and quality of contributions in this thread, although never want to go too far off-topic by commenting on them all. Nice work folks 😊
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- Location
- Shrewsbury, Shropshire
Another shout out for @footloose crow. 100 miles on Cornish roads! 
Once again @gavgav has beaten me to it with his report. I'll just add a mention of the Morris Minor with trailer that overtook us going up Palm's Hill: no pampered classic this - from the looks of it, it's still someone's workhorse. At the end of the same stretch of road, we pulled out to cross the A49 and hearing an odd noise I looked back to see the (relatively new) Transit that was following us had stalled across the junction and wouldn't restart.
Another good ride in good company. It was nice to ride some new roads and to revisit places I haven't been to for quite a while. A respectible number of other cyclists out and about still and I hope they'll keep at it.
57.7 miles by the time I got back at 12.8 mph average.
I tend not to stop for photos much when riding with other people so just a few snaps taken today:
Crossing the main Shrewsbury - Chester railway at Haughton with the Rednal karting circuit visible in the background. The cloud looked pretty threatening at the time but it stayed dry the whole trip.
Just a short way up the road from the last photo - a drink/snack stop by Haughton church.
A couple taken at Whitemere.
Another railway crossing. The Shrewsbury - Crewe line this time.
Once again @gavgav has beaten me to it with his report. I'll just add a mention of the Morris Minor with trailer that overtook us going up Palm's Hill: no pampered classic this - from the looks of it, it's still someone's workhorse. At the end of the same stretch of road, we pulled out to cross the A49 and hearing an odd noise I looked back to see the (relatively new) Transit that was following us had stalled across the junction and wouldn't restart.
Another good ride in good company. It was nice to ride some new roads and to revisit places I haven't been to for quite a while. A respectible number of other cyclists out and about still and I hope they'll keep at it.
57.7 miles by the time I got back at 12.8 mph average.
I tend not to stop for photos much when riding with other people so just a few snaps taken today:
Crossing the main Shrewsbury - Chester railway at Haughton with the Rednal karting circuit visible in the background. The cloud looked pretty threatening at the time but it stayed dry the whole trip.
Just a short way up the road from the last photo - a drink/snack stop by Haughton church.
A couple taken at Whitemere.
Another railway crossing. The Shrewsbury - Crewe line this time.
Archie_tect
De Skieven Architek... aka Penfold + Horace
- Location
- Northumberland
EltonFrog
Legendary Member
Good work @footloose crow and @wafter ( you were very close to my house today)
Thanks - not sure how we should both feel about the latter bit though - internet and reality becoming dangerously inter-twined?
Lovely part of the world though - love south Oxfordshire; the North of the county's a bit grim by comparison
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Archie_tect
De Skieven Architek... aka Penfold + Horace
- Location
- Northumberland
North Oxfordshire or the North in general?Thanks - not sure how we should both feel about the latter bit though - intent and reality becoming dangerously inter-twined?
Lovely part of the world though - love south Oxfordshire; the North's a bit grim by comparison
