14/11/21
An unseasonally fine afternoon so after some squirting of oil and checking of tyres on the Linear the garden chair hits the road once more. Out the back gate, out on to Swanlow Lane, through the uphill traffic lights (which remain on green for for long enough for me to sail through) and on to the A54 roundabout then downhill to the town centre. Reach a max of 22.5 on the way down, making me wonder if the brakes might be binding. The roads are busy for a Sunday. Left at the lights on to Grange Lane then follow it to the access to the Whitegate Way. Up the steep slope, temporarily blinded by the orange eye of the Westering sun striking through the the trees. No need for any ridiculously low gears, my legs manage despite not having any testing rides since my trip to mid Wales a month and a half ago.
The surface is muddy in places and dry and gritty in others. Soon I’m annoyingly aware of an intermittent gritty grinding from the back mudguard. There isn’t much space in there particularly towards the front, and I press on, expecting it to stop once the excess mud or whatever falls off.
This doesn’t happen so anticipating a twig having got in there I lie the bike down for a look. Nothing there, so I carry on with my ride. The noise subsides at times but returns. I put up with it, making a note to check the mudguard alignment at some time after getting home.
I carry on, enjoying the autumn colours and hoping that my mudguard doesn’t collect too many technicolour leaves. The Linear was originally manufactured with a 26” rear wheel. A previous owner fitted a 700C wheel hence the limited space inside the mudguard.
I arrive at Whitegate car park and find that the conveniences, which have been closed for a good chunk of the last 18 months, are open. Being of a certain age I never waste the opportunity to take a leak so dive in to inspect the plumbing. Out again, and under way. I notice that the sun is near the horizon so press on a bit. This is not aided by the crowds of walkers, dog walkers and cyclists. There are even a few horse riders.
Feeling quite good, I glance at my bike computer to see what speed I’m doing. This is mounted on a bracket quite far forward in my line of sight, but not immediately visible when I’m looking where I’m going. I’m rewarded by the uninformative sight of two metal contacts on a plastic base. I think back to when I last looked at my speed. I’d been too distracted by the noise from my rear mudguard to be forever checking my speed. The last time was before I laid the bike down to look for that twig. I surmise that it might have fallen off while the bike was on its side. I remembered that it fell off on 17/7/21 when the bike went over while I was wrestling with a bridleway gate, when I spotted it straight away. The clip wasn’t all that secure. Annoyed, I decide it isn’t worth going back now, as I am going to go back that way later. I carry on, passing more walkers, and making room for oncoming horse riders. Quite a few family groups with small children on bikes.
I come to Kennel Lane bridge and the rideable part of the old line becomes narrower and muddy. The tyres seems to pick up more of it and the mudguard noise becomes louder. I come to a large party of walkers travelling in my direction and taking up the whole width but they are making such a lot of noise that they can’t hear me. I hang back and freewheel as the line slopes downhill at this point. I catch them up again just before a bridge carrying a minor A road over the line. It is made narrower by a row of concrete supports. Nevertheless someone at the back says “cyclist” and they all stand to one side and I go past. The line is in a gloomy cutting at this point but the sun is lighting up the colourful foliage higher up.
I continue down the slope and pass under the A49 through a wide arched bridge. The cutting becomes shallower and brighter. I continue to pass walkers and cyclists coming uphill. The line levels out and I soon find myself on an embankment. I come to a signboard and a picnic bench where I stop for a snack.
Various walkers, cyclists, dogs etc continue to pass by. While I’m putting my rubbish back in my bag to take home I hear a rustling and a very fluffed out collie type dog stops at a distance and barks at me. I say “hello dog” and it stops barking. Its lady owner arrives and calls it and they both carry on.
I head back the way I came. The slope doesn’t seem so steep and my legs manage all right. After passing through a couple of bridges I come across a horse rider stopped on the right to let a sporty cyclist with hi vis and flashing lights coming towards me get past. The horse is stamping its hooves and shaking its head so I say would it be better if I stopped and let you get past? The no-nonsense lady rider says ”Thank you. He’s just being obnoxious because he doesn’t like to stop” . Once going, the horse seems more settled, and they go past without more ado.
I keep going, and see less passers by now, as it’s getting darker in the shady parts of the trail. I pass under the Kennel Lane bridge, and the surface improves immediately. I find myself changing up, and the slope eases.
Whatever’s stuck in the mudguard is still there, but the drier surface is helping to clear mud from the tyre. I’m going well now and slowly overhaul a man jogging who is travelling at a good pace. I’m about to ring my bell because I don’t think he can hear me over the steady thump of his feet but he glances over his shoulder and moves aside.
As I approach Whitegate Station bridge the trees fall away and the trail is brighter. I pass under the recently refurbished and reinforced bridge and pass the platform and buildings of Whitegate Station.
The track is muddy in parts and the mudguard becomes noisy again. I take a detour across the car park to the conveniences and inspect the plumbing once more.
I experimentally wheel the bike backwards hoping that whatever might be lurking in the rear mudguard might be persuaded to fall out but no such luck. I put the lights on and continue on my way. I’ve ridden this and similar trails before on this bike with no mudguard problems. The mudguard isn’t loose and hasn’t moved, and the wheel is central. It will need further investigation.
It’s level then downhill once back on the trail. There’s a lot of ambient light but it’s dark beneath the trees. I stop at the spot where earlier I laid the bike down to look for the twig or whatever might be causing the mudguard noise in the hope of finding the AWOL bike computer but no joy. I press glumly on.
I stop at a break in the trees to look at the mist rising up from the fields. Although I’m on an embankment I can feel the damp chilly air.
As I trundle on I pass a couple of unlit cyclists coming the other way then an increasing light from behind heralds a cyclist in a hurry who passes me in a blaze of light and soon is gone.
Before long I am descending the access ramp to Grange Lane where I turn right, drop down a dip and am soon climbing up to the populated area. I surprise myself at how easily I am climbing. I don’t feel particularly Herculacious but I’m obviously still fitter than I thought. As I’m climbing I hear shouting and cheering across the fields and assume that something is going on at the sports centre. I pass through the sports centre car park and see a marquee. I turn a corner and see a dispersed crowd watching a football match. They are intent on watching the football so I manage to ride quietly by. It is quite misty and it is strange to see the indistinct figures running about in the gathering gloom. I wonder why they aren’t using one of the main football pitches.
As I come to a turn in the path and emerge from behind a hedge I see why. The main sports pitches are at a lower level and are covered by a blanket of mist. It is brilliant white and though the sun has set the sky is still light. The mist has a sharp line along the upper surface. Above, it is clear, below, shining white mist. My path runs straight for it and as I descend it is a surreal experience. One second I’m in the clear, next I’m in a lake of water vapour. As the path descends gently at this point I have the bizarre experience of the bike and its low mounted light disappearing from sight below me, lighting it up with a white glow from within, while my upper body is still in the clear. Unfortunately no photo as there's just not enough light. I can see along the top of the mist, and the only thing that disturbs it in the still air is me. Then I’m in a chill white soup. I slow right down. Two dark shapes appear talking loudly in front of me, then turn off across the grass and disappear. I can see the difference between the grass either side and the path in front, but not much else. Somewhere ahead a tall dark shape and a small dot turn on to the path but as I’m going so slowly they fade and disappear. I look up and am surprised to dimly see the sky and a tiny moon. The hunched dark shape of a waste bin appears on the left, then the path starts to rise. Before I know it I’m at the A frame barrier. I paddle through in the murk and then pedal unexpectedly easily up the steep lane beyond. I come out of the mist and head for the road. Through an estate, on to Delamere St, wondering at the amount of traffic which has magically appeared.
I slow down approaching the A54 roundabout. Traffic is controlled by a traffic light at the preceding exit, but traffic from Delamere St must control their own destiny. I’m still rolling as I reach the roundabout and just as I get on it I see the traffic at the lights start to move. I pedal furiously to get to my exit but get a severe dose of beeping at for my pains from someone who must not be delayed at any cost. Well pardon me for adding .002 seconds to your journey, mate. This vehicle carried on round the roundabout, so what was that all about then?
I roll along Swanlow Lane keeping a wary ear out and an eye on the mirror but despite the volume of traffic they all give me plenty of room. I’m soon home. I give the rear wheel and mudguard a good hosing but nothing unusual appears. Looks like I’ll have to get serious with the tools to solve this mystery.
Distance 14.35 miles. Max Speed 22.5mph. Average speed? Only the computer knows, and it ain’t telling.
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Total Ascent: |
408 |
ft | |
Total Descent:
|
407 |
ft | |
Start Elevation:
|
184 |
ft |
|
End Elevation:
|
185 |
ft |
|
Min Elevation:
|
121 |
ft |
|
Max Elevation:
|
284 |
ft | |
According to Bikehike