Dismal weather this last week or so. Yesterday I was deterred from cycling by a weather forecast that threatened frequent showers in the afternoon. In fact there was only one short shower and I was annoyed with myself for not taking the risk. So with a similar forecast for today, I decided I’d go out regardless.
I’d just wheeled the bike out of the garage when a biblical downpour occurred. So I wheeled it back in and waited it out in there. I was minded to give up, but once it stopped, I decided to take my chances.
I was going to do about 15 miles of the Lower Westbound Route then come back. But I went out along Alton Hill to give Heather Lane a miss, thinking that it might be excessively puddly and once I’d done that, I just did a Twycrosser on autopilot. I had a bit of an excursion at the bottom along Ratcliffe Road instead of turning left along Mythe Lane. I encountered a “Welcome to Warwickshire” sign not long after. I’d forgotten how close Warwickshire was. Not long after that I found myself on the outskirts of Atherstone. Not very interesting. So I turned back and resumed the usual route down Mythe Lane.
Instead of coming back up via Bosworth or Gibbet Lane in the usual Twycrosser circular-route fashion, I took a left from Sibson to come back up the way I’d came. But I took a shorter way back from Snarestone.
It mostly rained for the first couple of hours. But I didn’t mind it so much; I had a rainproof cycling top and a helmet cover on. Nice and dry (and sunny) for the last hour.
Listened to another couple of hours of Slow Horses. Then tuned in to Wimbledon to catch a tie-break for the second set. Almost as enjoyable as hearing Djokovic lose it was the sound of the Centre Court crowd making clear their dislike of the odious Serb.
A grey day with a moderate breeze coming from the south. I thought I’d do a good old-fashioned Twycrosser. I rarely do that these days, usually preferring to take a detour that bypasses Twycross to the west.
Didn’t think I’d get to go out today as the forecast was foreboding, even threatening thunderstorms at one point. But by the afternoon even the threat of rain had been withdrawn. Despite this, it was raining very lightly as I set off. I assumed it would pass and it did, although it came back intermittently, and a bit heavier, over the first hour.
I took the Tricross, partly because of the rain and partly because I was going to take the recently-resurfaced route out of the village. It is, after all, a gravel bike. Fortunately as I hoped the resurfaced bit of road out of the village has bedded down quite a bit, though it’s still rough.
I was so engrossed in the tennis on 5 Live that I missed the turn for Packington and went right into Ashby. Did a U-turn and was back on track soon enough.
This was the first time since March that the Tricross had had a run out and the brakes were very ineffectual the first time I used them. Oxidation on the discs? It’s the only disc brake bike I own and I’ve never noticed it before. But the brakes were fine after a few goes.
Very different conditions from my last ride. Grey, damp and not particularly warm. Still an enjoyable run out though.
Saw two pairs of discarded knickers along the main road down to Twycross (it’s actually called Ashby Road, but so many roads around these parts are called Ashby Road that it’s almost meaningless as an identifier). I don’t see them so often these days, maybe the cost of living crisis is encouraging people to hang onto their underwear.
Listened to more of Slow Horses. Very intriguing. Lots of duplicity and counter-duplicity. I like it.
Back on 31.86 miles. 240 this month. I want to get that over 450 if I can, but I’ll probably end up shower-dodging to get there.
Inclement weather was forecast for the weekend but with high temperatures and bright sunshine promised for today, I took the day off work to do a longish bike ride. The wind was coming pretty much exactly from the south, so I thought I’d have a go at Northampton and back. I haven’t done that one for a few years now (2020 was the last time, I think).
I intended to set off at about 0800. But I woke at 0330 and didn’t really get back to sleep. I lay in bed until 0445, then I got up. I set off at about 0630. It was cool out, but I was wearing three layers on top and leg warmers.
I was annoyed to find that the ubiquitous gravel resurfacing method had been employed between Ibstock and Ellistown, but fortunately I only had to put up with it for about 1.5 miles, and it wasn’t that recent – The excess had been swept up and it had bedded in a bit.
By the time I was approaching Stoney Stanton, after only 17 miles or so I was starting to feel a bit drained – lack of sleep, I assumed. I decided I’d probably just go down as far as Welford then come back. However half an hour later I’d started to enjoy myself, and I was fine. I stopped at a farm gate just outside Gilmorton to stash my excess clothing in my camo bag in the nearby hedge. Conditions had warmed up quite a bit by this time. I was in minimal clothing now, short-sleeved jersey and shorts. But another half hour later I was quite warm. The temperature climbed quite quickly in the morning.
I stopped at the petrol station at Welford to buy some more food and a couple of cartons of Ribena. Handy size. Then I made my way down Welford Road, down through the villages north of Northampton. Spratton is the only one of them that offers a bench for the weary traveller, disappointingly. I made use of it to have a rest and refuel with some of the stuff I’d bought at Welford.
I seem to remember that I came through Spratton last year some time, though I definitely didn’t go right down to Northampton. Must look that up and see what I was up to.
I arrived in Northampton not long after 1100, and continued in the direction of the guest house (probably not a guest house now) where I spent a six month “lost weekend” in 1984. To my shame I took a wrong turn from Kingsthorpe and ended up in Moulton Park. I had to consult Google Maps to find my way from there. This was annoying because the traffic was pretty heavy over that way and I got held up for ten minutes at a queue for a road junction.
When I got there, I parked my bike up against the old house and took a rather crappy and partly over-exposed pic.
Then I turned for home.
I must write about that odd episode in my life, some time.
The first few miles coming up out of Northampton are a bit of an uphill slog, and the sun was fairly punishing by this time. I did bring some sunscreen with me but didn’t use it. I reasoned that I’d have my back to the sun coming north when it was at its strongest, so I’d probably be OK. I’m already a bit tanned anyway which ought to give a bit of protection. And I seem to have got away with it. My tanlines have improved nicely, but no sunburn.
Stopped at the village shop at Gilmorton on the way back. I love this place, they always have a good selection of stuff and there are tables and chairs outside. Had a cheese and onion pasty and a Magnum, washed down with a bottle of Dr Pepper. Nice people there. The lady in the shop offered to fill my water bottle.
I nearly always buy too much food on a long ride, and end up carrying around stuff that I don’t touch all day. Makes me laugh that I weigh mobile phones and use aluminium cage bolts to keep the weight down, but end up taking half a pound of ballast in the form of unwanted oat bars and pasties or similar.
I came back through Donington le Heath over the last few miles, to avoid the gravel surface near Ellistown. It probably isn’t actually a better bet, to be fair. It involves a bumpy road surface and a bit of climbing. Actually the surface coming down Standard Hill is ridiculously uneven and I felt like the bike was going to rattle to bits. I’ll just accept the gravel next time.
The homeward leg, after the climb coming out of Northampton, was mostly a breeze. Nice to have a tailwind of course.
Listened to a few more hours of my audiobook, Slow Horses. Unfolding nicely.
The thunderbugs are out in force at the moment – both arms were covered in the little beggars at one point.
Back on 100.10 miles. I wasn’t actually intending to do 100 miles. The ride would have taken about 95 if I hadn’t got lost in Northampton. But as I approached home I realised I’d end up doing about 99.5, so I did faff around a bit to get it up over 100, I admit.
I wanted to do about 35 after work. Not too many, because I might do a long one on Friday and wanted to conserve my energy. A breezy day with the wind coming from the west. Relatively cool. I clothed myself with three layers on top and a pair of tights and set off to do the Lower Westbound Route for a bit. Usually I’d probably opt for the Upper Westbound, but I’ve done that a couple of times in recent days.
I got as far as the left turn along Grangewood Road after 9 miles. Grangewood Road, or as much as it as I could see from there, had been liberally garnished with dusty grey gravel. Clearly, Leicestershire County Council has bought a very large quantity of the stuff. I avoided it by declining to turn left.
I thought this would take me to Coton in the Elms, along one of the other variations of that route but nope, it didn’t. I just kept going regardless, through Overseal and eventually into the outskirts of Swadlincote. Unfamiliar territory and a bit urban, but it made a change. I saw a sign to Woodville, and made my way there. From there I went up through Ticknall to Swarkestone Bridge. Then onto the Beloved A Road. So in fact I did end up doing the Upper Westbound Route after all, or a bit of it, via a highly circuitous route.
I’d decided by this time that I was going to come back down via Weston, Aston, Shardlow, Donington et al. And I particularly wanted to stop to take a pic after 26 miles, because that would be the point at which I’d have clocked up 40,000 road miles since January 2015. I thought somewhere along Swarkestone Road near Weston might be a suitable spot for that.
That meant I needed to turn around fairly sharpish, but I didn’t. The lure of the nicely surfaced, flat A road was just too much. Seemed a waste not to do another of mile or so. So I did, and I actually passed the 26 mile mark in busy traffic before the turn off to Weston.
I ended up taking this rather indifferent pic after 40,002 road miles. Close enough.
When I got to Castle Donington I was disgusted to find that it had had the same fucking awful grey gravel resurfacing treatment. I had to propel the bike through heaps of the stuff, with cars around me throwing up clouds of dust behind them, despite obeying the 10mph signs that had been left out every few hundred metres. Clearly, there’s no escaping it at the moment. God knows how much additional wear it puts into a pair of bike tyres.
I decided to tolerate the long grisly climb through Swannington rather than face the gravel on the northern approach to the village. Swannington too had had a visit from the Gravel Fairy. But fortunately it seemed to be less recent and had bedded in a bit. I think they must come and take away the excess after a few days. Or do they just sweep it into the drains? Either way it seems a pathetic way to resurface a road.
Listened to LBC, then the tennis on 5 Live – a really superb first round match between Stefanos Tsitsipas and Dominic Thiem that went to a tiebreaker in the fifth set.
A fox cub ran across the road in front of me near Ticknall.
I stayed at home yesterday because rain was forecast. Today it wasn’t, but I did have to put up with a heavy shower. Good run out anyway.
I was going to do at least 40 today, but there was always a chance I’d stretch it to a fondo if I felt like it. With a strong and annoying wind coming from the west I decided to go up and west along the Beloved A Road again. This time though the plan was to go up via Heather, Ashby and Ticknall – the same way I came back on Thursday – to avoid the dusty gravel on the road on the northern route out of the village.
Unfortunately I missed a turn at Ashby. A couple of miles later though. I followed a sign for Blackfordby; I was pretty sure I could find my way to Ticknall from there. And I did, through Woodville and Hartshorne. The only downside was a brutal climb going through Blackfordby.
The headwind was very annoying going west along the A road. I tolerated it as far as the roundabout after Sudbury. I’d done 35 miles at this point and I calculated that I’d done enough for a fondo if I came back the more conventional (quicker) way. Which I did, except that to avoid the gravel I detoured along Wash Lane.
Actually part of the road down from Melbourne has also had the gravel treatment so there was no escaping it. A bit aggravating as that stretch was only resurfaced in luxuriant smooth tarmac about a year ago.
Pretty cool weather when I set off, but I was comfortable enough with three layers on top and a pair of tights. The sun came out later on after which I was too warm, even after I’d partially disrobed and stowed excess clothing in the backpack.
Treated myself to an almond-flavoured Magnum at the petrol station near Hatton.
I gor through a couple of hours of a new audiobook, Mick Herron’s Slow Horses. About an unglamorous department of the Secret Service where intelligence operatives who have failed to make the grade or disgraced themselves are relegated to serve out their careers doing menial or clerical work.
Enjoyable ride on the whole, much more so with a tailwind in the sunshine on the way back. Back on 62.92 miles.
I wanted to do about 40 after work – to get the monthly total up over 600. With the wind coming from the north-west, a trip up to and along the Beloved A Road seemed a good idea. Perfect conditions apart from the wind, although even that wasn’t too bad. Dry and sunny, not too warm.
Normally a ride out on a bike after work helps me to destress and clear my head, but I hadn’t been pedalling for more than three minutes before I was irate. The road out of the village has been resurfaced, if I can dignify what they’ve done with the term, by having a load of sharp, dusty gravel dumped on it. I assume there’ll be some sort of second phase at some point where they come and take away the excess after it’s bedded in but in the mean time it really bloody annoys me that I’m supposed to ride over a series of gravel dunes just to take that route out of the village.
Anyway. I took the road through Coleorton and up Top Brand, then Isley Walton before turning sharp left in the direction of Swarkestone Bridge. A bit longer that way but I do like Top Brand in the sunshine.
I’d done more than 24 miles before I turned back. Got stuck in a traffic jam near Willington ten minutes later. Long queue of traffic there for some reason. Only held me up for ten minutes, though.
The idea was to come back down through Ticknall, then take a right to Woodville to avoid Bastard Hill. I hadn’t actually ascended Bastard Hill for over a year; not since I discovered the detour. But as I approached it, a voice in my head insisted that I give it a go. I felt a bit guilty about chickening out of it for so long. So I decided to man up and take it. And you know what? It really wasn’t that bad at all.
Just checked and my previous ascent of that unlovely feature was in May 2021.
Fantastic view from the top of the hill just before Ticknall. You have to stop and turn round to see it, but there’s a superb view of Derby and surrounding districts from there.
Sad to see though that the Wheel Inn at Ticknall which was a lovely, smart, modern little pub before the pandemic is still closed and starting to look slightly derelict.
I came back down through Ashby, then detoured through Packington and Heather so I could approach the village from the south, and avoid the El Cheapo road resurfacing project.
Back on 51.19 miles, that’s a wrap for June. 610 done this month.
A little bit cooler than of late. Still very pleasant though – warm enough for bare legs and sunny. But with a fairly stiff wind coming from the south-west.
I did much the same ride as on Friday, except that I remembered to take the right turn through Normanton le Heath from Heather this time. I went right down to Mythe Lane. And I came back the more conventional way up from Market Bosworth.
Lovely out there. The headwind made the first half of the ride a bit of a slog in places. But what a joy to be gliding along Fenn Lanes with a tailwind in the sunshine.
Quite enjoyed listening to people’s Glasto anecdotes on 5 Live.
Cloudy, but warm. I was able to leave work early (albeit I knew I’d have to apply my nose to the grindstone for a bit when I got back, for a while) and I wanted to do at least 40. I could even have done a fondo; perhaps I should have, given the scarcity of this sort of weather over the cycling year as a whole. But I didn’t.
I decided on another Twycross Bypasser. The wind was coming from the west again but I just didn’t fancy doing either of the longer westbound routes. I’d decided that, to avoid the badly-resurfaced bit of Ashby Road, I’d go west to Packington via the road through Normanton le Heath, a route I very rarely take. However I ignored that turn on auto-pilot, so went west through Swepstone instead.
As I pedalled along Shelford Lane, I noticed a helicopter approaching. It seemed to be losing height. Furthermore it seemed to have seen me. It hovered for a moment about a hundred metres away, then turned toward me, still descending. I actually felt threatened! Then I noticed the words AIR AMBULANCE on the side. It came down to land in the grounds of Twycross Zoo. Then a minute later, I saw a second air ambulance coming down. Seconds later as I approached the entrance to the zoo I noticed an ambulance barrelling towards me, sirens going, lights flashing.
What the? Had an exotic animal escaped from its enclosure and mauled half a dozen paying customers? I put my foot down so I’d pass the entrance to the zoo before the ambulance turned in, but I mistimed it slightly. I think I did slow the ambulance down for half a second. Oops.
I’ve only ever been past the entrance to the zoo twice, on both occasions this week, due to a brief diversion to avoid road works.
Anyway .. I continued down to Warton then east to Ratcliffe Culey, down Burton Road into a headwind then a sharp left along Fenn Lanes. Very nice to get out of that headwind. I extended the ride by going east as far as Kirkby Mallory, then back the usual way from there.
Still haven’t found out what happened at the zoo, but there doesn’t seem to have been an atrocity.
Another warm, sunny day except for a threat of rain showers at around 4pm. The wind has reverted to a more usual habit of blowing from the south-west; ideal for a Twycrosser or Bypasser. I hadn’t done one for a while so I was very happy to be setting off on my time-honoured after-work route, or a variation of it, in the sunshine. I’d actually been feeling a sort of homesickness to return to those familiar roads.
Would have gone as far as Upper Packington Road at the top but that bit of Ashby Road has been covered in sharp, dusty gravel – so I took a left turn to Packington along Coleorton Lane. Really gross, literally dumped in bloody great heaps. I assume there’s some sort of second phase where they come and sweep away the excess, but who knows?
I avoided the rain, although I could see it troubling the horizon to the north from Norton Lane near Orton.
Detoured through Barton in the Beans after Gibbet Lane.
Nice run out, 34.25 miles and that takes me to 476 this month, 3028 this year.
Every time I ride to Norfolk and back, I tell myself, on my return, that I’ve had enough of that route. And yet each year, by the time the clocks go forward in March, I find that I’ve developed a nagging compulsion to do it again.
So I did it again yesterday. Sort of. I planned a route that would take me to Sutton Bridge at the edge of Lincolnshire without actually going over the border. Having done it four times already, the novelty of riding to Norfolk and back from North-West Leicestershire has worn off now. Interestingly I did actually visit Cambridgeshire for half a mile. I only realised I’d done that while poring over a map after I got back.
I set an alarm for 0245, but I didn’t really sleep. I think I may have dozed for half an hour. I got up at 0155, which is earlier than I go to bed at the weekend sometimes. Exactly an hour later, I set off.
Last June when I did this ride, or a variation of it, I was shivering for the first couple of hours. This time the outdoor temperature wasn’t quite so low. Nonetheless I did ride through a few patches of uncomfortably cold air over the first hour so I decided to detour via Wymeswold and Rempstone, to reach higher ground (and warmer conditions) more quickly.
As you’d expect, the roads were very quiet. Beautifully tranquil out there at that time of the morning. I saw a few bats darting through the air in the dark along Gracedieu Lane, a few miles from home. An owl flew over the road ahead of me near Rempstone. And just after sunrise, I saw two fox cubs playing in the road near Six Hills. There were quite a few juvenile rabbits out and about yesterday, as well.
I stopped after 50 miles to stash my outer layer of clothing into my camo pattern nylon bag and hide it in a hedge next to a farm gate. I also stashed my spare front light and batteries. I checked my tyres. The rear was just slightly less firm than I expected. Had I picked up a puncture? I decided to ignore it, keep on going but check it again ten miles later. I did, and it was exactly the same. I did have a CO2 inflator with me and I could have got a little bit more pressure into it. But I decided to leave well alone. Thou Shalt Not Fix That Which Is Not Broken is the holiest law of my profession. It works well for cycling, too.
I had two spare inner tubes, two CO2 canisters for the inflator and a mini-pump with me. I really hate taking additional weight when doing a significant distance – I’ve even been known to weigh AA batteries, to determine the most lightweight brand – but the risk of a puncture is always in the back of your mind on a long ride.
I stopped to refuel with a sandwich and a bottle of Lucozade at a shop at Sutton St James. I arrived at Sutton Bridge forty minutes later, at about 1115. I planned to take a different route back westward from this point over the next twenty miles before joining the outbound route south of Spalding.
I’d set myself a target of doing 180 miles. That was five more than my planned route, so I needed to improvise a little. I took a detour down toward a village called Deeping St Nicholas. After that I took an unintentional detour into the outskirts of Spalding when I missed a turn.
The weather forecast had promised dry, sunny weather with a few cloudy intervals in the afternoon. In fact it was cloudy the whole time until about 4pm. I had to put up with light rain, on and off, for a couple of hours in the early afternoon. But at least the easterly wind was light, as promised. And from the late afternoon on conditions were glorious – sunny, not too warm. I’d taken a small tub of sunscreen with me but ended up not using it. Annoying, as it weighs 36 grams.
I listened mostly to BBC 6 Music. In the afternoon I tuned into 5 Live just in time to hear Scotland score two very late goals against Norway, to overturn a 1-0 defeat. Irritating.
Forty miles from home I stopped to refuel at my favourite rest stop of all, the village shop at Buckminster. I bought a coffee, an egg mayonnaise roll and (of course) a chocolate-covered mint ice-cream on a stick. As I sat consuming them on one of the benches outside, the proprietor very kindly brought out a homemade samosa for me, free of charge.
I’d realised by this time that I still wasn’t quite on course to do my intended 180 miles, so I took a brief detour through Long Whatton and came back the slightly longer way through Peggs Green and Coleorton. I’d done 181.40 miles when I arrived back at the garage door at about 2025. I’d made pretty good time – on a long ride like that I like to allow an hour for every 10 miles overall – it definitely pays to take it easy. So on that basis I was back more than half an hour earlier than I’d have expected.
That was definitely the most sensible route I’ve taken to get to Norfolk, or nearly-Norfolk and back. I chose less obscure, better-surfaced roads than the last couple of times. And I must say it was nice to ride through Long Sutton and Holbeach again – I went that way on my first Norfolk trip in 2017. But I’d avoided the quieter, narrow lanes that run in perfectly straight lines next to drainage channels in the Fenland part of Lincolnshire. They do have a distinctive desolate charm, and I missed that.
Still – that was definitely an enjoyable long day out on a bike. Very happy to have done a long run out east again this year.
