Today we took it easy. Kind of. We were staying at Horton near Ilminster and meant to take the whole day off but changed our minds when our hosts, Chris and Rose, went off to a wedding. We sorted out a b&b at Culmstock, some 3 miles beyond Hemyock and set out about one-thirty. We had only about 14 miles to go - a doddle you might think. Chris and Rose supported Harry against Gigi and we took what appeared to be the direct route. We soon understood why Gigi had recommended a more roundabout route. We climbed and climbed and climbed. Sadly Gigi took umbrage and turned herself off for no reason. She has never played this particular trick and I am at a loss to know the real reason but the details of that particular section of our journey appear to be irrevocably lost. A pity because i am convinced the record would have been stratling for the change in elevation. In this part of the world hills are so normal that the roads have normal names like Uffculme Road when they should have names like Horrible Hill, Horrendous Hill, Humungous Hill, Hairy-as-a-very-hairy-indeed-thing Hill and so on. It took about half an hour to get up the first one, which rose from Horton and went on and on. Then we went down the other side (the hairy one) and started thinking about finding a bike shop to get new brake pads. Eventually when I was at breaking point we found a most excellent pub which I whole-heartedly recommend called the Candlelight Inn which fed and restored us even though it was after two thirty. "The best sandwiches I have ever tasted" Harry said. Plus they had a little garden with lots of butterflies. And very good cider. The young (about 40) publican encouraged us saying the hill ahead was the last serious one on our journey and his personal best doing it on his bike was 7 minutes. It took us 15.
I should mention finding the Hastoe scheme at Hemyock. I had no post code nor address so I Googled it and got an idea that Hastoe's houses were on the site of the old St Ivel milk processing factory. We tracked this down eventually and then on the way out of the town I spotted a development which looked the sort of thing Hastoe does and sure enough it was so. I'm inclined to claim that as two schemes if my sponsors will put up with that.
Tomorrow we expect to have another half day and that will make up our full day off, spread over two days.
Riding for Ruhanga
Saturday, 31 August 2013
From Corn to Cattle
I am in big trouble from various members of the family for not posting photos of Harry's wounds. The swelling in the arm goes up and down but it seems to be getting better on the whole. To tell the truth, they are not very photogenic but I've added some random ones and will try harder in future.
For ten days now we have been riding through fields of wheat. In Norfolk we saw two fields which together must have amounted to 600 acres. Harry remarked how we never saw any cows, only a few sheep here and there. Suddenly yesterday (Friday) this all changed and we were in cattle country, with smells to match. We did 48 miles through Somerset with plenty of ups and downs and arrived here (near Ilminster) rather tired. It was lovely to be met at Whitelackington by Mandella from Hastoe. This was one of Hastoe's early schemes, built in 1991 as a result of enthusiasm by Ewan Cameron, the big landowner around here. And as it happens we are staying with his estate manager, Chris and Rose who used to manage a farm in Barcombe many years ago - which is how we know them.
One of the housing schemes we visited yesterday was at Ditcheat (to rhyme with itch it). A delightful village full of race horses being taken up to the gallops and children playing in the streets. We passed through another village called something Beauchamp, which disappointingly was pronounced as you would expect, Beecham.
Harry has just told me I must stop as we are off again. This was to be our day off but our hosts are going out so we decided to move on. I suppose a start after 1.00pm must pretty well qualify as a rest day.
 |
| Arm, 20th Aug |
 |
| Knee, 20th |
 |
| Arm, 22nd |
 |
| One of the White Horses, 29th Aug |
 |
| The beard, 29th. |
Thursday, 29 August 2013
From Marlborough, Wilts to Nunney, Somerset
We have now done some 488 miles and we are perhaps half way through our trip. Rather exciting.
What had promised to be a long day turned out to be a mere 39.69 miles. Estimates made at home in good faith often turn out wrong. Mostly too low but in this case too high. We called at Hastoe schemes at Dilton Marsh and Nunney. At Nunney we were inspecting with interest some redoubtable Land Rovers in a back garden and the lady of the house came out to see what we were up to. As usual, I introduced myself and she remembered getting a letter from Hastoe about us so she didn't
set the dog on us. We found that she and her man spend their leisure time testing the capabilities of these awesome machines on Salisbury Plain and keeping the byways open.
According to Gigi, I used 2501 calories today. I have no idea if that's a lot. I have lost no weight nor gained any. Does she allow for the hills, I wonder? Those hills are not such a terrible thing as we had expected but they are not a bit crotch-friendly. Curiously the average speed doesn't seem to fall but crotch-wise one notices the difference. Max speed today was 34.3. With heavy panniers and steep hills it's not difficult to achieve but a little scary sometimes. We were directed up a narrow back street in Dilton Marsh which was steeper than anything we have met so far, probably only 400 yards but... UP, note. Very UP indeed. Using the bottom of all the gears I could just keep going. My wing man even found it a bit testing.
She is still nursing a sore knee and a sore elbow. Today an experimental spell without pain-killers proved premature. While we were in Buckingham the other day, the pharmacist would not sell Voltarol because she admitted to taking some blood pressure pills. She had to visit another chemist who omitted to assk the same question. While all this was going on, I found a charity shop where I was able to buy another shirt to replace the one I had brought with me - which turned out to be short of a button and out at the elbow. Oops. The wing man doesn't appreciate such slip-ups.
Nature report: Rat and badger have now joined the list, both dead on the road. A few more bird specie, including (where we are staying) a red-legged partridge which uncharacteristically came and sat on the roof for some time.
What had promised to be a long day turned out to be a mere 39.69 miles. Estimates made at home in good faith often turn out wrong. Mostly too low but in this case too high. We called at Hastoe schemes at Dilton Marsh and Nunney. At Nunney we were inspecting with interest some redoubtable Land Rovers in a back garden and the lady of the house came out to see what we were up to. As usual, I introduced myself and she remembered getting a letter from Hastoe about us so she didn't
 |
| I commandeered a smaller bike while at Pookfield Close, Nunney |
According to Gigi, I used 2501 calories today. I have no idea if that's a lot. I have lost no weight nor gained any. Does she allow for the hills, I wonder? Those hills are not such a terrible thing as we had expected but they are not a bit crotch-friendly. Curiously the average speed doesn't seem to fall but crotch-wise one notices the difference. Max speed today was 34.3. With heavy panniers and steep hills it's not difficult to achieve but a little scary sometimes. We were directed up a narrow back street in Dilton Marsh which was steeper than anything we have met so far, probably only 400 yards but... UP, note. Very UP indeed. Using the bottom of all the gears I could just keep going. My wing man even found it a bit testing.
She is still nursing a sore knee and a sore elbow. Today an experimental spell without pain-killers proved premature. While we were in Buckingham the other day, the pharmacist would not sell Voltarol because she admitted to taking some blood pressure pills. She had to visit another chemist who omitted to assk the same question. While all this was going on, I found a charity shop where I was able to buy another shirt to replace the one I had brought with me - which turned out to be short of a button and out at the elbow. Oops. The wing man doesn't appreciate such slip-ups.
Nature report: Rat and badger have now joined the list, both dead on the road. A few more bird specie, including (where we are staying) a red-legged partridge which uncharacteristically came and sat on the roof for some time.
Wednesday, 28 August 2013
The Vale of the White Horse
If there's one thing I've learned from watching Top Gun it's that you never leave your wing man. Well despite serious damage, my wing man, Harriet, has not let me down and we have stuck together. I'm glad of it. Alone, I would have got lost and forgotten to have lunch and generally floundered. She is well on the mend though her elbow is somewhat compromised and will probably need attention when we get home.
For two nights we have been put up by very good friends and in each case the couple includes one character with very forceful views on the meaning of life and how it should be. They know each other and have very different, very forceful views. So H and I came away wonderfully refreshed with alternative and contradictory world views. Of course I have a world view also, very different again. And Harriet has her strong opinions on almost everything. So you can see we have had a quite invigorating time. And that's without the cycling.
Today we had a shorter day in miles but no mean ride as it turned out. We started at Bladon on the Blenheim Estate and headed south for Chilton Foliat. Oxfordshire gave way to Berkshire and then Wiltshire. It seems only a couple of days since we were hearing the distinctive Norfolk burr and suddenly we are in the West Country.
Gigi the Garmin Gadget puts up the name of the street or road as we go along and the word "hill" occurred rather a lot today. Of particular note was the hill up towards Lambourn, seemingly without a name but let's call it One-in-ten Hill because that is what the sign said at the bottom. We had passed a notice telling us that Lambourn was seven miles away. The first three of those miles was occupied by One-in-ten Hill. It took us some time. Suffice to say we never got off. And Gigi never once decided to put us on pause. It's also fair to mention that the next four miles down to Lambourn took about ten minutes. Hungerford Hill followed and I am not sure which was the most demanding.
Hastoe's little housing scheme at Chilton Foliat is a delight. The six brick-built houses are - as so often - on the edge of the village. They have been constructed in the local vernacular with dark headers and standard stretchers. That's the short ends of the bricks and the long sides. Rather striking.
Tomorrow will be a long day. And free of hills - I DON'T think. then we aim to have a day off.
Good night.
Nick
For two nights we have been put up by very good friends and in each case the couple includes one character with very forceful views on the meaning of life and how it should be. They know each other and have very different, very forceful views. So H and I came away wonderfully refreshed with alternative and contradictory world views. Of course I have a world view also, very different again. And Harriet has her strong opinions on almost everything. So you can see we have had a quite invigorating time. And that's without the cycling.
Today we had a shorter day in miles but no mean ride as it turned out. We started at Bladon on the Blenheim Estate and headed south for Chilton Foliat. Oxfordshire gave way to Berkshire and then Wiltshire. It seems only a couple of days since we were hearing the distinctive Norfolk burr and suddenly we are in the West Country.
Gigi the Garmin Gadget puts up the name of the street or road as we go along and the word "hill" occurred rather a lot today. Of particular note was the hill up towards Lambourn, seemingly without a name but let's call it One-in-ten Hill because that is what the sign said at the bottom. We had passed a notice telling us that Lambourn was seven miles away. The first three of those miles was occupied by One-in-ten Hill. It took us some time. Suffice to say we never got off. And Gigi never once decided to put us on pause. It's also fair to mention that the next four miles down to Lambourn took about ten minutes. Hungerford Hill followed and I am not sure which was the most demanding.
Hastoe's little housing scheme at Chilton Foliat is a delight. The six brick-built houses are - as so often - on the edge of the village. They have been constructed in the local vernacular with dark headers and standard stretchers. That's the short ends of the bricks and the long sides. Rather striking.
Tomorrow will be a long day. And free of hills - I DON'T think. then we aim to have a day off.
Good night.
Nick
Tuesday, 27 August 2013
Emberton, Bucks via Hanslope and Tingewick to Bladon, Oxon
We have done 51.6 miles today. for the record, these are the figures so far:
Approx total 412 miles in 8 days, average 51.5 miles per day.
Sadly when we visit schemes we often find no-one around. At Edinburgh Cottages on the Sandringham Estate, for example, there was no sign of the duke to greet us nor indeed anyone at all. So it goes. But today at Tingewick I think it was, a buzzard mewed overhead, then a raven flew over and a Green-veined White butterfly explored some buddleia flowers. Earlier we saw a heron and heard a bullfinch call and saw its white rump as it flew off and later a red kite soared overhead. So a better day, nature-wise.
I am in some trouble for not bringing a razor, to save weight. I now resemble one of my friends in the west of Ireland who tend to shave only once a week, usually on Saturday night so they are respectable for any partying and reasonably presentable still for church next morning. The beardling does not go very well with my hair which - because I wear a helmet - is divided by ridges and stands in three rows like a kind of nonconformist Mohican. A hairbrush is another thing I vetoed during the packing. In fact the packing was pretty disastrous. I brought two shirts for non-cycling wear. One is an aged safari shirt and the other turns ouit to lack a vital button and has worn through at the elbow. Today thereforee, in Buckingham, I saught out a charity shop and purchased a shirt to replace it while Harry negotiated for some more Voltarol as she is still prone to painful pangs from time to time. The first pharmacy declined to serve her after grilling her about other pills she takes for blood pressure. Luckily there are three chemists in Buckingham and the second one came up trumps, asking no awkward questions. Her arm has almost subsided although it remains a strange shade of puce. Her knee is still bruised and stiff but again almost recovered.
the swiss army knife that Hastoe staff gave me when i left has come in very handy. the scissors and phillips srewdriver have both been employed more than once and I find it not only tells the time (in GMT) but aslo the temperature and stuff.
Tomorrow we have a scheduled thirty something miles, so we look forward to reaching Wiltshire in easy style.
.
- Day 0 - 50.97 miles
- Day 1 - 62.63
- Day 2 - 33.6 (?)
- Day 3 - 49.44
- Day 4 - 50 (estimated; 39.91 recorded and some more while Gigi was asleep)
- Day 5 - 66.59
- Day 6 - 46.61
- Day 7 - 51.6
Approx total 412 miles in 8 days, average 51.5 miles per day.
Sadly when we visit schemes we often find no-one around. At Edinburgh Cottages on the Sandringham Estate, for example, there was no sign of the duke to greet us nor indeed anyone at all. So it goes. But today at Tingewick I think it was, a buzzard mewed overhead, then a raven flew over and a Green-veined White butterfly explored some buddleia flowers. Earlier we saw a heron and heard a bullfinch call and saw its white rump as it flew off and later a red kite soared overhead. So a better day, nature-wise.
I am in some trouble for not bringing a razor, to save weight. I now resemble one of my friends in the west of Ireland who tend to shave only once a week, usually on Saturday night so they are respectable for any partying and reasonably presentable still for church next morning. The beardling does not go very well with my hair which - because I wear a helmet - is divided by ridges and stands in three rows like a kind of nonconformist Mohican. A hairbrush is another thing I vetoed during the packing. In fact the packing was pretty disastrous. I brought two shirts for non-cycling wear. One is an aged safari shirt and the other turns ouit to lack a vital button and has worn through at the elbow. Today thereforee, in Buckingham, I saught out a charity shop and purchased a shirt to replace it while Harry negotiated for some more Voltarol as she is still prone to painful pangs from time to time. The first pharmacy declined to serve her after grilling her about other pills she takes for blood pressure. Luckily there are three chemists in Buckingham and the second one came up trumps, asking no awkward questions. Her arm has almost subsided although it remains a strange shade of puce. Her knee is still bruised and stiff but again almost recovered.
the swiss army knife that Hastoe staff gave me when i left has come in very handy. the scissors and phillips srewdriver have both been employed more than once and I find it not only tells the time (in GMT) but aslo the temperature and stuff.
Tomorrow we have a scheduled thirty something miles, so we look forward to reaching Wiltshire in easy style.
.
Last night's blog didn't get published. Here it is.
Bank Holiday Monday; Emberton, Bucks
Started from Ickleton near Cambridge at 9.00 with notes as to the first part of the route, gleaned from a real paper map.. Should be 42 miles. Gigi is asked to join the game and suggests starting with a right turn out of the front door. Our hosts ask: "how, then, will you get across the M11?" Gigi remains mute. Never explain, never apologise, seems to be her motto. We start to the left. From Cambridgeshire we quickly find ourselves in Bedfordshire. There isn't much to say about Bedfordshire except that its A roads have little token spaces at the edge called cycle lanes. Not very fun. Sometimes even those fade out, leaving one trying to cycle on the white line to leave room for the other traffic. Luckily lorries have a day off. Starting at nine and with only 42 miles ahead, I express the view that we might reach our destination in time for lunch. We actually arrive at 5.00pm.
Some of you will want to know about the wildlife. It has been disappointing. Maybe twenty species of bird in a week, nothing extraordinary unless you count Parakeets.Mammals include hares, falloow and roe deer, hedgehogs, squirrel and rabbit, most of them dead on the road. Only seven species of butterfly. When we found our route took us past the RSPB headquarters at Sandy, Beds, I thought I might do better but nothing added there, despite reports of hobbies and a raven which did not show for me.
Talking of stuff dead on the road reminds me of a sign we saw one day: GO SLOW; TAKE CARE; STAY ALIVE. We've had some success with the last of those so far. Not sure about the others.
Another story from a few days back. We passed a sign saying: ROAD CLOSED. We rode on. Half a mile later another notice ROAD CLOSED AHEAD. We continued. Another half a mile and a sign stated ROAD CLOSED DUE TO WALL REBUILDING. Clearly they could not seriously close the entire road just for a wall, so on we went. Finally a hand-written notice "YES IT REALLY IS CLOSED" by which time we could see an enormous crane taking up every inch (the word "literally" comes to mind) of the road. Our faces fell but luckily there was a set of stairs over a bridge for pedestrians and we managed to struggle the laden bikes over rather than face a round trip of several extra miles. Not sure what the moral of the story is.
Oh, by the way, the journey was 46.61 miles, a mere 4 miles over the estimate.
Bank Holiday Monday; Emberton, Bucks
Started from Ickleton near Cambridge at 9.00 with notes as to the first part of the route, gleaned from a real paper map.. Should be 42 miles. Gigi is asked to join the game and suggests starting with a right turn out of the front door. Our hosts ask: "how, then, will you get across the M11?" Gigi remains mute. Never explain, never apologise, seems to be her motto. We start to the left. From Cambridgeshire we quickly find ourselves in Bedfordshire. There isn't much to say about Bedfordshire except that its A roads have little token spaces at the edge called cycle lanes. Not very fun. Sometimes even those fade out, leaving one trying to cycle on the white line to leave room for the other traffic. Luckily lorries have a day off. Starting at nine and with only 42 miles ahead, I express the view that we might reach our destination in time for lunch. We actually arrive at 5.00pm.
Some of you will want to know about the wildlife. It has been disappointing. Maybe twenty species of bird in a week, nothing extraordinary unless you count Parakeets.Mammals include hares, falloow and roe deer, hedgehogs, squirrel and rabbit, most of them dead on the road. Only seven species of butterfly. When we found our route took us past the RSPB headquarters at Sandy, Beds, I thought I might do better but nothing added there, despite reports of hobbies and a raven which did not show for me.
Talking of stuff dead on the road reminds me of a sign we saw one day: GO SLOW; TAKE CARE; STAY ALIVE. We've had some success with the last of those so far. Not sure about the others.
Another story from a few days back. We passed a sign saying: ROAD CLOSED. We rode on. Half a mile later another notice ROAD CLOSED AHEAD. We continued. Another half a mile and a sign stated ROAD CLOSED DUE TO WALL REBUILDING. Clearly they could not seriously close the entire road just for a wall, so on we went. Finally a hand-written notice "YES IT REALLY IS CLOSED" by which time we could see an enormous crane taking up every inch (the word "literally" comes to mind) of the road. Our faces fell but luckily there was a set of stairs over a bridge for pedestrians and we managed to struggle the laden bikes over rather than face a round trip of several extra miles. Not sure what the moral of the story is.
Oh, by the way, the journey was 46.61 miles, a mere 4 miles over the estimate.
Sunday, 25 August 2013
Five Counties
We started this morning, Sunday, in West Norfolk and rode through Suffolk, Cambridgeshire, Essex and back into Cambridgeshire. Well, OK, four counties if you must. GG, our faithful Garmin Gadget, had gone into such a sulk yesterday that it turned itself off. It (he, she?) seems frightfully touchy and we had only overruled her a few times. Or maybe it had something to do with not having charged her up sufficiently. Who knows. Anyway our route, when uploaded onto the computer, was sadly short of the last few miles. Good news if you are sponsoring us by the mile.
We visited our usual quota of Hastoe housing schemes. For those who like lists: Saturday we started from Fakenham and travelled via Sedgeford and West Newton on the Sandringham Estate to stay at juts short of Foulden in West Norfolk. We found a chap moving a mattress out of one Hastoe property. He was helping his son move out so he could move in instead. They were doing a swap. At one site we found a delighted tenant who had moved in only a couple of months before and declared that he hoped and expected to die there. He was not old. I must say those houses had a delectable view over the countryside. Not untypical among Hastoe properties.
Harry is still nursing her swollen arm and knee and her shoulder isn't quite what it was but all these things seem on the whole to be getting better by degrees. She has possibly chipped her elbow but doesn't take kindly to universal advice to get it checked out. I must say the thought of a visit to casualty during a bank holiday weekend seems singularly unattractive so I play along. Not that it would make any difference if I didn't. My heart is behaving itself again.
Today we started at nine and called first at Foulden, then Lakenheath, Burwell, Bottisham and ended up here with friends at Ickleton, just south of Cambridge. GG - or Gigi (I have decided she must be female) - purred and took us along beautiful routes, straight and flat, through Thetford Forest and across lovely countryside. I believe she was feeling remorse after her tantrum yesterday. But perhaps she just knew that we were watching her every move and ready to overrule if needed. For the last leg of the journey we just trusted her and then it was that she had a brainstorm and deposited us in Saffron Walden, five miles too far south. the one consolation was tat she made us climb a long and unnecessary hill but I managed to top 30 mph on the way down the other side. Also it meant that Harry spotted a sign which read "HOME GROWEN TOMATOES" which she much enjoyed.
Tomorrow, Monday, we head for Emberton, near Milton Keynes. We have a plan to keep Gigi in check. The game is on.
We visited our usual quota of Hastoe housing schemes. For those who like lists: Saturday we started from Fakenham and travelled via Sedgeford and West Newton on the Sandringham Estate to stay at juts short of Foulden in West Norfolk. We found a chap moving a mattress out of one Hastoe property. He was helping his son move out so he could move in instead. They were doing a swap. At one site we found a delighted tenant who had moved in only a couple of months before and declared that he hoped and expected to die there. He was not old. I must say those houses had a delectable view over the countryside. Not untypical among Hastoe properties.
Harry is still nursing her swollen arm and knee and her shoulder isn't quite what it was but all these things seem on the whole to be getting better by degrees. She has possibly chipped her elbow but doesn't take kindly to universal advice to get it checked out. I must say the thought of a visit to casualty during a bank holiday weekend seems singularly unattractive so I play along. Not that it would make any difference if I didn't. My heart is behaving itself again.
Today we started at nine and called first at Foulden, then Lakenheath, Burwell, Bottisham and ended up here with friends at Ickleton, just south of Cambridge. GG - or Gigi (I have decided she must be female) - purred and took us along beautiful routes, straight and flat, through Thetford Forest and across lovely countryside. I believe she was feeling remorse after her tantrum yesterday. But perhaps she just knew that we were watching her every move and ready to overrule if needed. For the last leg of the journey we just trusted her and then it was that she had a brainstorm and deposited us in Saffron Walden, five miles too far south. the one consolation was tat she made us climb a long and unnecessary hill but I managed to top 30 mph on the way down the other side. Also it meant that Harry spotted a sign which read "HOME GROWEN TOMATOES" which she much enjoyed.
Tomorrow, Monday, we head for Emberton, near Milton Keynes. We have a plan to keep Gigi in check. The game is on.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)