Grant Fondo
Guru
- Location
- Cheshire
They all count 👍
Your ride today....
- Thread starter gbb
- Start date
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Boars Hill
cyberknight
As long as I breathe, I attack.
- Location
- Land of confusion
footloose crow
Über Member
- Location
- Cornwall. UK
21 and 22 March. We should have listened to the news
The world continues to spin at much the same speed in its majestic orbit around the sun but oh how so much changes in a space of a few days.
On Thursday last week, I thought we were being mildly naughty taking the camper van to Somerset for a couple of days. Doing some cycling whilst it was still possible. We stay on a farm with no one else around, pay by bank transfer so we never meet the owner, are self contained for water and toilet facilities, take all our own food and don't stop for fuel. When we got home today I had a text from my son asking if I "felt terrible" and that I had "disappointed Matthew Hancock". Maybe we should listen to the news more.
The first day we started from Castle Cary mainly because I liked the name and we had never been there. It was bright but cold, the wind plucking at my clothes and rolling my bidon across the car park. I am always being told to take it easy so we did a short ride on our hybrids today, both red and matching even to the twinned bidons, one now slightly scratched after its getaway bid. Madame tells me I am being pretentious calling it a bidon; on a hybrid it is simply a 'water bottle'.
It was a late start after spending many hours trying to fix an electrical issue with the van that had caused the toilet flush to start working randomly, threatening to flood the van whilst we were out. It is an old van and getting increasingly eccentric. So the shadows were already long and whatever warmth there had been in the day was quickly receding by the time we set out.
The lanes of Somerset are a delight and corona-empty today. The road surface clean, the hedges tended, displays of daffodils and primroses, the wild garlic tossing in the wind. Even the hills are more gentle and although the Wahoo said the gradient was the same as a Cornish hill, it just didn't feel like it was. From the height of the bike you can see over the low hedges and drainage channels across flat fields to low hills on the horizon, all suffused with the long, low light of early evening.
This definitely had to be a short ride as I had forgotten lights and was watching the sun drop lower, knowing that it would disappear suddenly at this time of year, remembering too that today was the equinox and wondering vaguely if there was some form of ceremony or tradition I should follow on this day.
Through villages, quiet with cars parked up neatly on driveways, the odd person out still in their gardens. It did not feel like we were in wartime, the new front of the global pandemic. It felt like the roads of my childhood, empty and quiet, villages where people walked and talked.
The ride passed peacefully, the roads always compliant, with gentle views. I could cycle here forever. It is cycling heaven for the older and slower, with constant views, choices of back roads and hills that lean back and welcome you upon them. The wind was cold though, biting, finding the gaps in my clothing and Madame Crow was slower than I would have liked, shorn of her electron assisted steed and on the hybrid with its 40mm thick treaded tyres. I became impatient in the last few miles, leaving the bike in the big cog on hills and standing on the pedals to get some warmth or doubling back down the hill and doing it again. We had left the e-bike behind, worried about having a bike on the back rack that was worth as much as the van. I will not make that mistake again. I need more speed.
The next day was just as bright, a cool blue sky but with little heat in it and the wind howled around the van, whistling in the ventilators, rattling the trim. I had planned a route overnight on RidewithGPS and transferred it to the Wahoo. I don't often have success with such things but it all worked and it is a rare enough feat to be worthy of remark. Today we begin in the riverside town of Langport, earlier than yesterday but not early. We had stayed up until 2am and seen off three bottles of wine in a long, pointless and rambling discussion of the value of history. No conclusions were reached. I think now we should have listened to the news instead.
So it was not until 1pm that we left the car park by the River Parrett, a river I had crossed so often on trips up and down the M5, but until today had never seen up close. It is not a remarkable river but the road follows it closely, usually below it and we were very aware of how vulnerable these lands are to flooding. The river has been embanked so it can flow above the level of the shrinking peatland either side. The houses here seem warm; I think it is the red brick, something we do not see in Cornwall as bricks are too expensive to transport and we have granite in plenty. The sun was almost warm too, especially when we could get shelter from that east wind. The road rolled below the wheels quite happily, flat, gentle, welcoming. The fields are a vivid green today, responding to the growing light. We see a number of cyclists, usually alone, occasionally a family in a line, dad at the front and mum at the back, children pedalling furiously in-between. Very few cars.
As we get closer to Bridgewater the road departs and we are on a river path. Switch on the front suspension then. I wonder if I can call this gravel biking. As the river twists the wind comes from one side or another or sometimes from ahead but never from behind. Madame is slow in the headwinds and on the loose gravel of the riverside path and I find myself running ahead and then waiting, the wind cooling me, my thoughts wandering across the landscape.
Close to Bridgewater and the path is suddenly busy. Dogs and children and prams. Fishing boys and fishing men with long carbon rods. I hold my breath every time we pass someone, mind full of dark thoughts about aerosols and viruses. It is hard to maintain a six foot distance on a five foot wide path. Once into Bridgewater we decide there is no reason to stay. I am sure Bridgewater is lovely but we have a bad case of corona-panic and want to get back to the empty lanes and clean, cold winds of the countryside.
Some more river path and then lanes again, twisting and winding, never heading in one direction long, interspersed with short gentle hills or the more punishing flats, pollarded willows along drainage ditches that offer no shelter when the wind blows fiercely slowing us both. Villages are quiet, well kept, with people sitting enjoying the sun in their front gardens. They wave as we pass or shout greetings. I wonder if we have somehow wandered into a different universe, this one based on Enid Blyton. We are the 'Famous Five', cycling with a bag of ginger pop and looking for villains although three of us have to be imaginary.
It is too good to last and the last three miles are on an unavoidable A road, rising steeply uphill and now we have cars. Farewell Enid Blyton land and welcome back to diesel world. I sit behind Mdame as she grinds up the hill, impatient to pass but good mannered enough to know that she finds it soul destroying to be left behind and will not sit close enough behind me to get any benefit from wheel sucking. My attention is wandering and my front wheel collides with her rear. I twist the handlebars to avoid causing her to crash and land myself in the hedge instead. Madame tells me it was just desserts for getting too close and endangering her. She also lets me off the leash and I race the last mile and a half back to the van, setting the speed limit sign flashing as I pass.
When we get back I have a text from my son telling me I need to return "before the police block the A30 and turn you away". Maybe it is time to listen to the news and quickly I wish I had not. We are social pariahs, lockdown dodgers, gallivanting whilst the country enters into a crisis.
Back at the farm for another night we get a text message from the owner to say that we have to go. Everything is being closed down it seems. We can stay until the morning but then the gates will be locked. We had planned another ride before heading home but our actions seem increasingly self centred and foolish. We make an early start in the morning and head for the Tamar. Roads are quiet, pubs shuttered, in our imagination it feels as if our van with it's bright red toys tied on behind is being looked at with contempt and anger. We have become one of those people like hoarders and groups gathering outside cafes or the ones that steal hand gel from hospitals who are making this outbreak worse. The radio tells us each hour the worsening news, like a dark cloud spreading across the country, it never gets better. Our spirits are low. I try to absorb as much of the passing countryside as I can, remembering how it looks in the bright spring sunshine, England awaking after the winter, because I don't know when I will get to travel this way again.
I keep a logbook in the van and jot down where we go and what we do. The last entry says..."maybe the last trip of 2020."
The world continues to spin at much the same speed in its majestic orbit around the sun but oh how so much changes in a space of a few days.
On Thursday last week, I thought we were being mildly naughty taking the camper van to Somerset for a couple of days. Doing some cycling whilst it was still possible. We stay on a farm with no one else around, pay by bank transfer so we never meet the owner, are self contained for water and toilet facilities, take all our own food and don't stop for fuel. When we got home today I had a text from my son asking if I "felt terrible" and that I had "disappointed Matthew Hancock". Maybe we should listen to the news more.
The first day we started from Castle Cary mainly because I liked the name and we had never been there. It was bright but cold, the wind plucking at my clothes and rolling my bidon across the car park. I am always being told to take it easy so we did a short ride on our hybrids today, both red and matching even to the twinned bidons, one now slightly scratched after its getaway bid. Madame tells me I am being pretentious calling it a bidon; on a hybrid it is simply a 'water bottle'.
It was a late start after spending many hours trying to fix an electrical issue with the van that had caused the toilet flush to start working randomly, threatening to flood the van whilst we were out. It is an old van and getting increasingly eccentric. So the shadows were already long and whatever warmth there had been in the day was quickly receding by the time we set out.
The lanes of Somerset are a delight and corona-empty today. The road surface clean, the hedges tended, displays of daffodils and primroses, the wild garlic tossing in the wind. Even the hills are more gentle and although the Wahoo said the gradient was the same as a Cornish hill, it just didn't feel like it was. From the height of the bike you can see over the low hedges and drainage channels across flat fields to low hills on the horizon, all suffused with the long, low light of early evening.
This definitely had to be a short ride as I had forgotten lights and was watching the sun drop lower, knowing that it would disappear suddenly at this time of year, remembering too that today was the equinox and wondering vaguely if there was some form of ceremony or tradition I should follow on this day.
Through villages, quiet with cars parked up neatly on driveways, the odd person out still in their gardens. It did not feel like we were in wartime, the new front of the global pandemic. It felt like the roads of my childhood, empty and quiet, villages where people walked and talked.
The ride passed peacefully, the roads always compliant, with gentle views. I could cycle here forever. It is cycling heaven for the older and slower, with constant views, choices of back roads and hills that lean back and welcome you upon them. The wind was cold though, biting, finding the gaps in my clothing and Madame Crow was slower than I would have liked, shorn of her electron assisted steed and on the hybrid with its 40mm thick treaded tyres. I became impatient in the last few miles, leaving the bike in the big cog on hills and standing on the pedals to get some warmth or doubling back down the hill and doing it again. We had left the e-bike behind, worried about having a bike on the back rack that was worth as much as the van. I will not make that mistake again. I need more speed.
The next day was just as bright, a cool blue sky but with little heat in it and the wind howled around the van, whistling in the ventilators, rattling the trim. I had planned a route overnight on RidewithGPS and transferred it to the Wahoo. I don't often have success with such things but it all worked and it is a rare enough feat to be worthy of remark. Today we begin in the riverside town of Langport, earlier than yesterday but not early. We had stayed up until 2am and seen off three bottles of wine in a long, pointless and rambling discussion of the value of history. No conclusions were reached. I think now we should have listened to the news instead.
So it was not until 1pm that we left the car park by the River Parrett, a river I had crossed so often on trips up and down the M5, but until today had never seen up close. It is not a remarkable river but the road follows it closely, usually below it and we were very aware of how vulnerable these lands are to flooding. The river has been embanked so it can flow above the level of the shrinking peatland either side. The houses here seem warm; I think it is the red brick, something we do not see in Cornwall as bricks are too expensive to transport and we have granite in plenty. The sun was almost warm too, especially when we could get shelter from that east wind. The road rolled below the wheels quite happily, flat, gentle, welcoming. The fields are a vivid green today, responding to the growing light. We see a number of cyclists, usually alone, occasionally a family in a line, dad at the front and mum at the back, children pedalling furiously in-between. Very few cars.
As we get closer to Bridgewater the road departs and we are on a river path. Switch on the front suspension then. I wonder if I can call this gravel biking. As the river twists the wind comes from one side or another or sometimes from ahead but never from behind. Madame is slow in the headwinds and on the loose gravel of the riverside path and I find myself running ahead and then waiting, the wind cooling me, my thoughts wandering across the landscape.
Close to Bridgewater and the path is suddenly busy. Dogs and children and prams. Fishing boys and fishing men with long carbon rods. I hold my breath every time we pass someone, mind full of dark thoughts about aerosols and viruses. It is hard to maintain a six foot distance on a five foot wide path. Once into Bridgewater we decide there is no reason to stay. I am sure Bridgewater is lovely but we have a bad case of corona-panic and want to get back to the empty lanes and clean, cold winds of the countryside.
Some more river path and then lanes again, twisting and winding, never heading in one direction long, interspersed with short gentle hills or the more punishing flats, pollarded willows along drainage ditches that offer no shelter when the wind blows fiercely slowing us both. Villages are quiet, well kept, with people sitting enjoying the sun in their front gardens. They wave as we pass or shout greetings. I wonder if we have somehow wandered into a different universe, this one based on Enid Blyton. We are the 'Famous Five', cycling with a bag of ginger pop and looking for villains although three of us have to be imaginary.
It is too good to last and the last three miles are on an unavoidable A road, rising steeply uphill and now we have cars. Farewell Enid Blyton land and welcome back to diesel world. I sit behind Mdame as she grinds up the hill, impatient to pass but good mannered enough to know that she finds it soul destroying to be left behind and will not sit close enough behind me to get any benefit from wheel sucking. My attention is wandering and my front wheel collides with her rear. I twist the handlebars to avoid causing her to crash and land myself in the hedge instead. Madame tells me it was just desserts for getting too close and endangering her. She also lets me off the leash and I race the last mile and a half back to the van, setting the speed limit sign flashing as I pass.
When we get back I have a text from my son telling me I need to return "before the police block the A30 and turn you away". Maybe it is time to listen to the news and quickly I wish I had not. We are social pariahs, lockdown dodgers, gallivanting whilst the country enters into a crisis.
Back at the farm for another night we get a text message from the owner to say that we have to go. Everything is being closed down it seems. We can stay until the morning but then the gates will be locked. We had planned another ride before heading home but our actions seem increasingly self centred and foolish. We make an early start in the morning and head for the Tamar. Roads are quiet, pubs shuttered, in our imagination it feels as if our van with it's bright red toys tied on behind is being looked at with contempt and anger. We have become one of those people like hoarders and groups gathering outside cafes or the ones that steal hand gel from hospitals who are making this outbreak worse. The radio tells us each hour the worsening news, like a dark cloud spreading across the country, it never gets better. Our spirits are low. I try to absorb as much of the passing countryside as I can, remembering how it looks in the bright spring sunshine, England awaking after the winter, because I don't know when I will get to travel this way again.
I keep a logbook in the van and jot down where we go and what we do. The last entry says..."maybe the last trip of 2020."
Mr Celine
Discordian
- Location
- Waxing my moustache
Sunday's ride. A trip to the paper shop in the morning showed that the roads had been re-coated in a thick layer of salt, so the summer bike can rest easy for another week. Before going out I investigated the poor front shifting on the winter bike to discover a frayed cable about to let go. It was about 2:30 before I got out. I've never seen so many cyclists out at that time on a Sunday - I'd expect to see about three on a 40 mile loop but actually saw ten, though on checking the strava flyby I'd seen one couple twice, so only eight. There were also lots of peds on country lanes, which is even rarer.
This is looking east from where on a clear day Halidon Hill at Berwick can be seen. The white dots are swans and just out of shot to the right is another Wellington Monument.
Further on I found a hill I'd only ever gone down before. Turned out to be a lot steeper in the up direction, I stopped at the top for a photo looking south towards Ruberslaw.
Why do people set up Strava segments that finish 50m after the summit?
One more stop as it's a while since the Ettrick Water has been at normal levels.
The roads were mainly dry but where they weren't the latest mudguard bodge seems to be effective. (The rear mudguard is actually a spare front one).
The map -
39.6 miles @13.7mph 838m up.
This is looking east from where on a clear day Halidon Hill at Berwick can be seen. The white dots are swans and just out of shot to the right is another Wellington Monument.
Further on I found a hill I'd only ever gone down before. Turned out to be a lot steeper in the up direction, I stopped at the top for a photo looking south towards Ruberslaw.
Why do people set up Strava segments that finish 50m after the summit?
One more stop as it's a while since the Ettrick Water has been at normal levels.
The roads were mainly dry but where they weren't the latest mudguard bodge seems to be effective. (The rear mudguard is actually a spare front one).
The map -
39.6 miles @13.7mph 838m up.
AndreaJ
Veteran
My usual Monday routine was disrupted today, daughter is at home with no college although I am on the key workers list none of her friends will be there, not many teachers and she doesn’t need my constant supervision so she is off and I needed a few bits of shopping that the hoarders keep clearing off the shelves so it was late before I had chance to go hoping it wouldn’t be the last ride before we are all in lockdown. Set off to Wolverley, Loppington, English Frankton, Colemere, Lyneal, Welshampton, Hampton Bank, Bettisfield, Northwood, pad the end of our lane , down Ossage Lane to Horton and home. It was a lovely sunny day although a bit of a cold breeze and life in rural Shropshire is trying to carry on with some sort of normal with farmers all busy in the fields again now it’s eventually started to dry up . 21.45 miles @15mph.
Picture of Colemere through the trees by the canal bridge.
Picture of Colemere through the trees by the canal bridge.
Maverick Goose
A jumped up pantry boy, who never knew his place
- Location
- A champagne supernova in the sky
I took the long way home from work via Bennethead, the A66, Greystoke and Blencow to Penrith, as it was such a lovely sunny afternoon-the hotel where I work in the Lakes is shut for at least a month and while I'm off I'm taking advantage of every good day that comes my way...keep calm and ride on.
I'll save so much money thanks to the pubs and cafes etc being shut. No more large Cappucinos from Granny D's in Pooley Bridge for me for a while!😥
I'll save so much money thanks to the pubs and cafes etc being shut. No more large Cappucinos from Granny D's in Pooley Bridge for me for a while!😥
Kryton521
Über Member
Out of town, Corn Town, {why it called that then?} Ewenny, Ogmore on up to Southern Down right turn and long loop. Crack hill descent!!! I am The King 72.2kph!!!! Haha! Eat my shorts skinny person! My "added" 15kgs wins the day!
edit: Knickers! Should have checked first. Someones done a 73 kph descent. Strava, [what's going on there.] didn't record it at all.
edit: Knickers! Should have checked first. Someones done a 73 kph descent. Strava, [what's going on there.] didn't record it at all.
Last edited:
Maverick Goose
A jumped up pantry boy, who never knew his place
- Location
- A champagne supernova in the sky
Hello WD-take care and ride on. Nobody's going to want to come near a dragon anyway!Well I got out today. Due diligence on my part I practised social distancing or in my case doing my usual Billy no mates impersonation.
A tad on the Cool side, it was only 7 deg here. Even though we have bright sunshine. My gloves went in in only 5 minutes followed by my Wooly hat
Only 13 miles today but it was so nice just to get out. I saw 3 cyclists and 1 car towing a caravan ( looked like they were taking notice of all the signs telling them to go home)
View attachment 509965
View attachment 509964
View attachment 509963
View attachment 509962
welsh dragon
Thanks but no thanks. I think I'll pass.
Hello WD-take care and ride on. Nobody's going to want to come near a dragon anyway!
.
Warm, legs shaved, bib shorts on, Boris approved cycle ride coming up, what could go wrong....
Why's the Defy not changing gear, quick U turn after a few yards and back home. Now at this point I suppose strictly I should not have jumped on the de-ebiked hybrid instead. Now as the Defy was changing gear perfectly alright last time it was out of the shed the hybrid got into the act by refusing to rear brake, eh?
How does taking a bottom bracket fitted motor off and replacing the original chainwheel combination stop the rear brakes from working. So out with the Allen key stored in the handlebar extensions and one pad repositioned closer to the rim. Onwards through the local country park where one pair of walkers coming in the opposite direction stayed side by side so hopefully that was just a CV19 near miss and some tweaking of the front mudguard supports needed. Then west on Penny Pot. The last time the hybrid, as ebiked, headed out here was on the last Saturday of the World Championships. What a different time that was.
A noticeable creaking noise started which I could not trace the source of so carried on and was just past the wind farm when the sense of a loose cleat arose. Transpired instead it was a loose crank so a U turn necessary and a slow ride back stopping at most accesses to thump the crank back on its shaft and finger tighten the bolt. Plenty of cyclists out having presumably more luck than me.
The most positive stat would be the 382ft climbed, the least the 9.9mph avg over just 8.9 miles. Now to fix two bikes.
Why's the Defy not changing gear, quick U turn after a few yards and back home. Now at this point I suppose strictly I should not have jumped on the de-ebiked hybrid instead. Now as the Defy was changing gear perfectly alright last time it was out of the shed the hybrid got into the act by refusing to rear brake, eh?
How does taking a bottom bracket fitted motor off and replacing the original chainwheel combination stop the rear brakes from working. So out with the Allen key stored in the handlebar extensions and one pad repositioned closer to the rim. Onwards through the local country park where one pair of walkers coming in the opposite direction stayed side by side so hopefully that was just a CV19 near miss and some tweaking of the front mudguard supports needed. Then west on Penny Pot. The last time the hybrid, as ebiked, headed out here was on the last Saturday of the World Championships. What a different time that was.
A noticeable creaking noise started which I could not trace the source of so carried on and was just past the wind farm when the sense of a loose cleat arose. Transpired instead it was a loose crank so a U turn necessary and a slow ride back stopping at most accesses to thump the crank back on its shaft and finger tighten the bolt. Plenty of cyclists out having presumably more luck than me.
The most positive stat would be the 382ft climbed, the least the 9.9mph avg over just 8.9 miles. Now to fix two bikes.
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cyberknight
As long as I breathe, I attack.
- Location
- Land of confusion
Nothing for me today , probably just a turbo sesh later .
TBH legs a bit tired after yesterday and been out do do the family shop which took 3 shops to get it all and need to take stuff around to FIL so im at my limit exposure wise.
Just done a weights/stretch session
TBH legs a bit tired after yesterday and been out do do the family shop which took 3 shops to get it all and need to take stuff around to FIL so im at my limit exposure wise.
Just done a weights/stretch session
Donger
Convoi Exceptionnel
- Location
- Quedgeley, Glos.
I was due to go out for a ride with @Dark46 today, but we agreed it might be wrong, given the latest government advice. I had also been reading a message on the Audax UK website which suggested that it might be a little crass to rely on the discretion to "leave the house to exercise once a day" to justify a long session in the saddle. I think I shall stick to rides of an hour or so for the foreseeable future. With that in mind, I headed off to the waterfront at Epney before looping back home via Saul, Whitminster and the A38. Pleased to see that everyone was following the social distancing rules really well today. A few other cyclists were out and about, but no groups.
I enjoyed a brief stop by the side of the Severn in Epney:
... and lovely it was too in that glorious sunshine that we have been missing. Just 15.9 miles today in about 1 hour 10 mins. That'll have to do on my next few rides as well.
Stay safe everyone. Cheers, Donger.
I enjoyed a brief stop by the side of the Severn in Epney:
... and lovely it was too in that glorious sunshine that we have been missing. Just 15.9 miles today in about 1 hour 10 mins. That'll have to do on my next few rides as well.
Stay safe everyone. Cheers, Donger.
Dave 123
Legendary Member
- Location
- Cambridgeshire alps
Two rides today. First one this afternoon on my Boris endorsed exercise. 16 miles. Probably 16 buzzards circling in the blue sky. Primrose, violet, celandine and stitchwort in the hedges.
https://www.strava.com/activities/3213137386
https://www.strava.com/activities/3213137386
Just as I got home I had a phone call from the village pharmacy. I’d offered to deliver prescriptions for people who couldn’t get out, so Bert and Lesley now have their meds.
https://www.strava.com/activities/3213615944
https://www.strava.com/activities/3213137386
https://www.strava.com/activities/3213137386
Just as I got home I had a phone call from the village pharmacy. I’d offered to deliver prescriptions for people who couldn’t get out, so Bert and Lesley now have their meds.
https://www.strava.com/activities/3213615944
- Location
- Shrewsbury, Shropshire
A lovely Spring day turned into a pleasant evening so I took the chance to get out and get my allowance of exercise by heading round the short version of my Acton Burnell loop. I set out into twilight and there were still a few couples strolling round the village.
Out onto the main road it was quiet but not unusually so and there were more vehicle movements round the lanes than I'd expected (although I did get the Condover to Longnor section almost completely to myself), however I didn't see a single pedestrian until I got back into the village and no cyclists at all, so I think my social distancing on this ride was successful.
Just over 17 miles at 13.9 mph average. Good to make the most of it while we still have the option.
No photos coz it was dark.
Out onto the main road it was quiet but not unusually so and there were more vehicle movements round the lanes than I'd expected (although I did get the Condover to Longnor section almost completely to myself), however I didn't see a single pedestrian until I got back into the village and no cyclists at all, so I think my social distancing on this ride was successful.
Just over 17 miles at 13.9 mph average. Good to make the most of it while we still have the option.
No photos coz it was dark.
