EltonFrog
Legendary Member
Good job that gate is locked.
Your ride today....
- Thread starter gbb
- Start date
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Good job that gate is locked.
Indeed, looks like someone has taken offence.
theloafer
Legendary Member
- Location
- newton aycliffe
old back problem had me off the bike the last 2 weeks 
. monday i felt a lot better sso popped out for a short spin round local lanes only 20 miles but all was good and was great to be out also noticed bike reached the 7000 miles marker 
today i was still feeling ok so off out again only to see a old mate round trip of 26 miles and returned in good health
. monday i felt a lot better sso popped out for a short spin round local lanes only 20 miles but all was good and was great to be out also noticed bike reached the 7000 miles marker today i was still feeling ok so off out again only to see a old mate round trip of 26 miles and returned in good health
ianbarton
Veteran
I
remmber
remmber
I remember cycling up StationRoad as a young boy on my first bike. A friend of mine's mother worked at the Brine Baths on Rilshaw lane, so we got in for free. The joys of swimming in an outdoor pool which almost never got above 65F . Sadly the brine baths were shut down some years ago.
footloose crow
Über Member
- Location
- Cornwall. UK
10 November Determination required
When I was at university we were taught about 'geographical determinism', which is basically that the culture and success of a community or nation can be determined by the geography of that region. The climate, the soils, the availability of raw materials, the ease of access to other regions for trade, confer either advantage or disadvantage to any society and thus its success or failure. What has this to do with todays ride? Patience.....
The lanes here in Cornwall are incised into the land and overhung with oak, ash and beech all of which grow prolifically in our damp but mild climate and which drop that proliferation in the form of leaves onto the lanes....where they form a rich deep mulch of wheel spinning, gear clogging, bike dirtying, skid-iness. Our position as a thin finger of land reaching far into the untamed and somewhat wild Atlantic means there are gales most weeks in the winter, sometimes three a week, accompanied by heavy rain. The ancient rocks of Cornwall, cut through over the aeons by fast flowing streams, mean that every lane has its ups and downs and arriving at sea level and then having to reclaim the height lost almost immediately can be wearying. Actually it is wearying. Especially when its raining and the wind is against you.
This means that cyclists in Cornwall - or 'people that use bikes' to use the new term - are geographically determined to be either superhumanly strong and fit or broken chested, skinny legged moaners and groaners who resent every winter ride. Determination is required.
Or sometimes one can surf the determination of others and so at 8.40am this morning I met some other more determined people who cycle, at a roundabout in Truro and followed them on a mystery tour of south Cornwall. I thought there was a plan but it turns out that everyone else thought that too and we were all convinced we were following each other. So it was a wriggly route that backtracked, was unsuccessful at avoiding the steepest hills and had no over all theme except for a search for a cafe with cake at some point. It wasn't cold but it did rain. The wind blew sideways and against us but never behind. There were hills. We skidded on some bends.
We cycled to a boatyard to look at Dr Dave's yacht. We went to Mylor via a long 15% hill because I said I had never been up it. I didn't want to go up it but as everyone else did I had no choice. We went to Falmouth because we could see it across Falmouth Creek from Flushing but the ferry wasn't taking bikes. From Falmouth it seemed logical to everyone but me that we should now find more hills and loop around the moors where it would be wetter and windier - which it was.
This isn't Dr Dave's yacht. It is a dinghy full of water because the owner of it has lost heart and believes it will never be nice enough to go out again. I know how he feels.
Yes that is Falmouth over there but there is some water in the way. Lets re-climb the steep hill we just descended to get to this point and go there next...
The bike blew over just after I took this picture. This is a holiday beach in Cornwall.
I was very pleased to get home. I said to everyone that I was looking forward to the next ride - I was lying. It will take me a day to clean the bike.
Turns out I am not very geographically determined after all. But then 'geographical determinism' has been debunked as a theory for fifty years or more.
When I was at university we were taught about 'geographical determinism', which is basically that the culture and success of a community or nation can be determined by the geography of that region. The climate, the soils, the availability of raw materials, the ease of access to other regions for trade, confer either advantage or disadvantage to any society and thus its success or failure. What has this to do with todays ride? Patience.....
The lanes here in Cornwall are incised into the land and overhung with oak, ash and beech all of which grow prolifically in our damp but mild climate and which drop that proliferation in the form of leaves onto the lanes....where they form a rich deep mulch of wheel spinning, gear clogging, bike dirtying, skid-iness. Our position as a thin finger of land reaching far into the untamed and somewhat wild Atlantic means there are gales most weeks in the winter, sometimes three a week, accompanied by heavy rain. The ancient rocks of Cornwall, cut through over the aeons by fast flowing streams, mean that every lane has its ups and downs and arriving at sea level and then having to reclaim the height lost almost immediately can be wearying. Actually it is wearying. Especially when its raining and the wind is against you.
This means that cyclists in Cornwall - or 'people that use bikes' to use the new term - are geographically determined to be either superhumanly strong and fit or broken chested, skinny legged moaners and groaners who resent every winter ride. Determination is required.
Or sometimes one can surf the determination of others and so at 8.40am this morning I met some other more determined people who cycle, at a roundabout in Truro and followed them on a mystery tour of south Cornwall. I thought there was a plan but it turns out that everyone else thought that too and we were all convinced we were following each other. So it was a wriggly route that backtracked, was unsuccessful at avoiding the steepest hills and had no over all theme except for a search for a cafe with cake at some point. It wasn't cold but it did rain. The wind blew sideways and against us but never behind. There were hills. We skidded on some bends.
We cycled to a boatyard to look at Dr Dave's yacht. We went to Mylor via a long 15% hill because I said I had never been up it. I didn't want to go up it but as everyone else did I had no choice. We went to Falmouth because we could see it across Falmouth Creek from Flushing but the ferry wasn't taking bikes. From Falmouth it seemed logical to everyone but me that we should now find more hills and loop around the moors where it would be wetter and windier - which it was.
This isn't Dr Dave's yacht. It is a dinghy full of water because the owner of it has lost heart and believes it will never be nice enough to go out again. I know how he feels.
Yes that is Falmouth over there but there is some water in the way. Lets re-climb the steep hill we just descended to get to this point and go there next...
The bike blew over just after I took this picture. This is a holiday beach in Cornwall.
I was very pleased to get home. I said to everyone that I was looking forward to the next ride - I was lying. It will take me a day to clean the bike.
Turns out I am not very geographically determined after all. But then 'geographical determinism' has been debunked as a theory for fifty years or more.
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I do love your write ups @footloose crow ,superbly written
EltonFrog
Legendary Member
I too enjoy your write ups @footloose crow . Your writing style reminds me in may ways of Jerome K Jerome, in particular the sentence about everyone thinking that someone in the group knew where you were all going. smashing.
footloose crow
Über Member
- Location
- Cornwall. UK
Thank you @EltonFrog. It is sadly the case that many of my group rides are a haze of confusion and misunderstandings. I shall treasure your literary comparison....it has also made my wife choke on her tea.
bluenotebob
Veteran
- Location
- France
I watched the BBC weather forecast the other evening and they mentioned lots of warm air coming up from the Azores – overnight temperature of 15C in northern Scotland etc. Well – that warm air must have taken a big detour around Brittany because it was misty and cold (only 6 degrees) when I stumbled downstairs this morning to make coffee. The mist was still hanging around when I left Mauron and headed south on the V3 Voie Verte. Not sure where I was going but I wanted to get at least 50km under my belt to stay in the 2022 HMCAM challenge. It was a public holiday today and I was expecting hoards of people on the Voie Verte but the cool, misty weather must have put them off. A few cyclists, a couple of dog walkers, some ramblers and one jogger were all I saw by the time I passed through Ploërmel.
Down to the Oust and onto the flood plain. Still pretty quiet but it’s lunchtime so that’s normal. Up to Malestroit and then down into the Claie valley where I decided to stop at La Tayée, munch a couple of dates and then start the return leg back to the van in Mauron.
More cyclists when I was heading back but still a very quiet day on Voie Verte. The sun put in a brief appearance when I was near Loyat – but then it had second thoughts and hid behind the clouds again.
82.9km cycled in 4 hours 47 mins .. a sedate pace that suited my mood today.
Autumn colours on the river Oust, looking towards Montertelot
A view of the Claie valley – still claggy in the afternoon
The Voie Verte near La Tayée
Down to the Oust and onto the flood plain. Still pretty quiet but it’s lunchtime so that’s normal. Up to Malestroit and then down into the Claie valley where I decided to stop at La Tayée, munch a couple of dates and then start the return leg back to the van in Mauron.
More cyclists when I was heading back but still a very quiet day on Voie Verte. The sun put in a brief appearance when I was near Loyat – but then it had second thoughts and hid behind the clouds again.
82.9km cycled in 4 hours 47 mins .. a sedate pace that suited my mood today.
Autumn colours on the river Oust, looking towards Montertelot
A view of the Claie valley – still claggy in the afternoon
The Voie Verte near La Tayée
The rain finally relented to allow me the chance to get out for my first ride in November, after work. A remarkably warm evening, which only required a t-shirt on the top layer, never done that before in this month.
There was still a keen south/south easterly wind, which blew me along nicely to Reabrook and Heathgates, before I turned down through Castlefields and to the weir. The river towpath was fairly quiet and for the first time in months, the Severn is looking fairly high in its banks.
The quarry was quiet, other than a few runners, dog walkers and a lad pushing his mate in a shopping trolley….as you do 🤪! I crossed Porthill bridge, for what will be last time until well into December, as they’re closing it for some refurbishment work and climbed up Porthill.
I then followed the cycle paths to Shelton and turned into the stiff wind, which slowed me down through Bowbrook, along Mousecroft Lane into Nobold and through Meole village.
Arrived home with 12.75 miles on the clock, at a leisurely 11.6mph avg. Saving the legs for something a bit longer tomorrow and then much longer on Sunday.
There was still a keen south/south easterly wind, which blew me along nicely to Reabrook and Heathgates, before I turned down through Castlefields and to the weir. The river towpath was fairly quiet and for the first time in months, the Severn is looking fairly high in its banks.
The quarry was quiet, other than a few runners, dog walkers and a lad pushing his mate in a shopping trolley….as you do 🤪! I crossed Porthill bridge, for what will be last time until well into December, as they’re closing it for some refurbishment work and climbed up Porthill.
I then followed the cycle paths to Shelton and turned into the stiff wind, which slowed me down through Bowbrook, along Mousecroft Lane into Nobold and through Meole village.
Arrived home with 12.75 miles on the clock, at a leisurely 11.6mph avg. Saving the legs for something a bit longer tomorrow and then much longer on Sunday.
Spiderweb
Not So Special One
- Location
- North Yorkshire
Out on the Tricross for a ride to Prologue Cycles in Harrogate for lunch and a new bottom bracket fitting.
63 miles with an average of 16 mph. November Gran Fondo ✅
63 miles with an average of 16 mph. November Gran Fondo ✅
Dave 123
Legendary Member
- Location
- Cambridgeshire alps
11 miles. A bit of road and a bit of coast path and a bit of bridleway.
https://www.strava.com/activities/8106957074
https://www.strava.com/activities/8106957074
Following last night's shameful dinner of corn chips and donuts I was rewarded this morning with the usual raft of allergy symptoms; a utility ride seeming infinitely preferable to sitting in the house, inert because it felt like my brain had been replaced with cotton wool 
I instantly felt a bit better just for getting out on the Fuji; chancing it with just the base layer, lightweight trousers, lightish beanie and gloves. While it was initially overcast by the time I'd got to the next village the sun had started to burn through the clouds and warm things up nicely..
A bit further down the line and more blue sky. At this point I inadvertantly acquired a spider from the gate - however upon returning to repatriate it, it disappeared inside my handlebars.. so it looks like I have a new companion.
Onward via the usual route to Sainsburys, where the now-familar dance was performed. While the Fuji was doubtless the most valuable bike in the rack, it was probably also the least trendy / desirable to the scallies so I crossed my fingers that it would still be there when I got back; buoyed by growing familiarity with the process and the fact it'd not been robbed on my previous visits.
Shopping mostly acquired (they were out of 30-boxes of fish fingers, ffs) I packed the bags outside and thought I'd pop down into town and have a mosey around since it was such a nice day. I found the world's largest BHF charity shop, then after committing more time to locking the bike up than I ultimately spent in the shop realised that it only sold furniture (and being the town in question it all appeared to be then-two-grand-now-twenty-pence DFS gash and other mainstream / flat-packed rubbish).
I carried on down to the square, locked the bike up again (cable through the pannier handles hoping the smackheads wouldn't nick my dinner) and checked out another couple of charity shops, to no avail but it was all good.
As much as I despise this town, today it did acquit itself very well with its carpet of orange in the morning's autumn sun. Oddly it had a decidedly cosmopolitan air (probably thanks largely to the Albanain-looking bloke knocking out some decent tunes on an accordian) and tbh were it not so crushingly familiar I think one could have been forgiven for mistaking it for some nice European town. Perhaps the decades of immigration from eastern Europe have helped dilute the fighty-casual-racist element, although I still rode past a few groups of blokes roaming the streets with their suspiciously muscular dogs, tinnies in hand at 11am.
Anyway, from that point on it was out through the grottiest bits of ex-social housing and home along an extended route of backroads, which served to redress the balance of knobheads encoutered since the rest of the trip in had been surprisingly good in this regard. I really, really need to get a damned loud (i.e. louder than that of a car) horn for the bike..
As usual I feel immeasurably better for having got out and don't care to think about the state I'd probably be in now had I remained indoors. I feel like I've learned a little more / pushed the boundaries a bit further (longer in the shop, less anxiety, leaving the bike briefly locked up somewhere public with the bags still fitted).
So far the Fuji's covered about 280 miles in my ownership and I remain impressed with how versatile / competent / complete it feels as a utility bike; offering me so much more in one package than any of my other rides could have done in isolation. That said it still needs a bit more work (including a bell, which I could have used again today..).
Numbers, FWIW: c. 27.5 miles and 1350ft at 11.4mph and 131bpm for around 1400kcal burned.. which should just about offset last night's "dinner"..
Finally, it's nice to note that as of this ride I've so far covered around 1030 miles this year; comparing favourably to around 880 last year which gives me something to cling to as an indication of progress - and again something that I probably owe to the Fuji for giving me an excuse to get out
EDIT 1: Spider now relocated to the garden after emerging when the bike was indoors
EDIT 2: Friend who used to live in local town says many casual racists have been displaced by imported neo-Nazis.. so yeah - winning/notwinning
I instantly felt a bit better just for getting out on the Fuji; chancing it with just the base layer, lightweight trousers, lightish beanie and gloves. While it was initially overcast by the time I'd got to the next village the sun had started to burn through the clouds and warm things up nicely..
A bit further down the line and more blue sky. At this point I inadvertantly acquired a spider from the gate - however upon returning to repatriate it, it disappeared inside my handlebars.. so it looks like I have a new companion.
Onward via the usual route to Sainsburys, where the now-familar dance was performed. While the Fuji was doubtless the most valuable bike in the rack, it was probably also the least trendy / desirable to the scallies so I crossed my fingers that it would still be there when I got back; buoyed by growing familiarity with the process and the fact it'd not been robbed on my previous visits.
Shopping mostly acquired (they were out of 30-boxes of fish fingers, ffs) I packed the bags outside and thought I'd pop down into town and have a mosey around since it was such a nice day. I found the world's largest BHF charity shop, then after committing more time to locking the bike up than I ultimately spent in the shop realised that it only sold furniture (and being the town in question it all appeared to be then-two-grand-now-twenty-pence DFS gash and other mainstream / flat-packed rubbish).
I carried on down to the square, locked the bike up again (cable through the pannier handles hoping the smackheads wouldn't nick my dinner) and checked out another couple of charity shops, to no avail but it was all good.
As much as I despise this town, today it did acquit itself very well with its carpet of orange in the morning's autumn sun. Oddly it had a decidedly cosmopolitan air (probably thanks largely to the Albanain-looking bloke knocking out some decent tunes on an accordian) and tbh were it not so crushingly familiar I think one could have been forgiven for mistaking it for some nice European town. Perhaps the decades of immigration from eastern Europe have helped dilute the fighty-casual-racist element, although I still rode past a few groups of blokes roaming the streets with their suspiciously muscular dogs, tinnies in hand at 11am.
Anyway, from that point on it was out through the grottiest bits of ex-social housing and home along an extended route of backroads, which served to redress the balance of knobheads encoutered since the rest of the trip in had been surprisingly good in this regard. I really, really need to get a damned loud (i.e. louder than that of a car) horn for the bike..
As usual I feel immeasurably better for having got out and don't care to think about the state I'd probably be in now had I remained indoors. I feel like I've learned a little more / pushed the boundaries a bit further (longer in the shop, less anxiety, leaving the bike briefly locked up somewhere public with the bags still fitted).
So far the Fuji's covered about 280 miles in my ownership and I remain impressed with how versatile / competent / complete it feels as a utility bike; offering me so much more in one package than any of my other rides could have done in isolation. That said it still needs a bit more work (including a bell, which I could have used again today..).
Numbers, FWIW: c. 27.5 miles and 1350ft at 11.4mph and 131bpm for around 1400kcal burned.. which should just about offset last night's "dinner"..
Finally, it's nice to note that as of this ride I've so far covered around 1030 miles this year; comparing favourably to around 880 last year which gives me something to cling to as an indication of progress - and again something that I probably owe to the Fuji for giving me an excuse to get out
EDIT 1: Spider now relocated to the garden after emerging when the bike was indoors
EDIT 2: Friend who used to live in local town says many casual racists have been displaced by imported neo-Nazis.. so yeah - winning/notwinning
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