Around the Villages by Bike

After a wet, miserable day yesterday where there was barely any light to take a photograph all day, today was rather better and despite quite a fresh wind I was determined to get out on the bike and have a bit of a ride around.

I say determined, this wasn't quite the reality. I like riding my old mountain bike, but some days I'm a bit nervous about it - Will I puncture? Will any of the roads be dangerous? Will I get rained on and end up like a drowned rat with an annoyingly wet backside?

I decided I would be OK, and headed out in the opposite direction from normal, out to Kelham and the villages to the north of Newark. There are some narrow roads and some nasty blind corners, but I took it easy, taking in the views of the lowering sun and the  power station, the hills around Kelham and the various churches on my route.

I only did 20km, but you take in the villages of Kelham, Little Carlton, Bathley, and North and South Muskham on this route, and there's stuff to see all the way along; folk like to have cute summer houses in their gardens in these villages, and there are birds to see; fieldfare in the hawthorns, crows in the fields, and an echelon of big waterfowl overhead; no idea what these were and my photo will not help identification!

I had a look at North Muskham Lake, where a cormorant was doing its pterodactyl wing drying thing out on a raft in the middle of the water, and compared those waters to the sterile building site that are the waters of the former sailing club.

I hate what the fishing club done to that place.

Si

All text and images copyright 02.12.18

Making Friends on a Ride

Another day, stresses of yesterday forgotten, and I was out on the bike again.

I wanted to explore my strange fascination for small watercourses by following the Caunton Beck to the titualr village, and visiting the wonderful ford there that I always loved as a child.

To say that Nottinghamshire is mainly rather flat and boring, it was a hilly old ride out there, with some steep climbs rising into both Norwell and Caunton itself. Everytime I encountered the beck, I photographed it, as it winded around the villages in its leafy little cut.

The villages I rode through - Little Carlton, Bathley, Norwell and Caunton - are all old fashioned constructions, with lots of barns and gable ended houses, so they were obviously all popular breeding spots with hirundids. There were certainly lots of them in the air today, swallows and house martins, flying over the villages hunting like mad for the insects the muggy weather had brought out.

There were lots over the fresh cut pasture fields as well, swooping low where the machines had been.

I eventually get to Caunton and enjoyed revisiting the ford, which as ever seemed so much larger when I was a child. But you, know, cycling is a lonely business and retracing my route out of Caunton, it was lovely to make friends with a lovely furry cat of most unusual colouration.

No one else was going to give my legs a rub when I've finished.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 05.09.16

Cycling into Stress

Well, I'm sort of on holiday now, and so without any cricket to play and the rain gone, I was able to head off on my bicycle - back is a bit stiff to run - and decided to head out North, in search of a lost cricket ground.

It isn't really lost, I suppose, as it is still there, a pretty little ground with fungus fairy rings and a nice pavilion out at Little Carlton. But it is now marked out as a football pitch, and of the square and pitches there is no sign at all.

It's been lost to cricket for serveral years sadly, so my mission to see if it could be used by my club as a potential outground was pretty conclusive - it can't! But it is a very pretty village, and a nice ride out on quiet lanes. I followed the road round to Bathley, and then to North Muskham for a look at the nature reserve and lake; very quiet indeed.

The trouble began when I cycled home and did a little shopping. Somewhere, somehow, my wallet fell out of my pocket, a fact I only realised a couple of hours later, and oh boy, did I panic like a mad thing.

Horrible, cold sweat panic!

Luckily, I heard that it had been handed in at a pizza takeaway near where I had stopped, and full of happiness went to pick it up. Of course, the cash inside - not a mega amount, but not what I'd ever want to lose, had been stolen, and in a tizzy I realised I'd have to cancel my cards as they could easily have copied all the numbers.

Grrr. More faff and stress. Or maybe it's just someone's way of telling me to spend less money.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 04.09.16

Long Lasted the Suffering

After a very lazy day yesterday where I'd decided that reading was more important than running, there was no chance I'd be so inactive today.

Very rashly, I'd told my cricketing friends in the Prince Rupert last night that I was hoping to do a 30km run today, along one of my cycling routes, but the fact that I'd been in the Prince Rupert last night meant that I was never going to cash the cheque my mouth had written.

Still, I managed 16km along unknown country roads through the villages of Little Carlton and Bathley neither of which I'd ever seen before; hardly surprising as both were the size of a newborn chihuahua. There's a lot of ivy growing in the hedgerows, and it was all busy with hoverflies and the odd butterfly. Occasionally a kestrel would fly along in front of me after I flushed it from a tree, and there were a couple of shaggy looking buzzards making a low level flight across my route.

But the slowness of my running, sheesh. I'm still hampered with all manner of low level aches and pains, but today I was slower than ever. Over two hours for 16km is way off my best form. and all my muscles in my groin and legs feel tense and tight.

30km seems a very long way off indeed, let alone the 42 my marathon on the 28th November will entail.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 04.10.15

Wounded bee. Couldn't identify as something had bitten a chunk our of its abdomen

A large field of probable cabbage.

Kelham Lane

Erystialis, possibly

A more ginger species

Nice shot of glamorously named A1 fishing lake

Reflections

The writer in the mirror

Passion flower?

The route across the field

Speckled wood

Slightly closer

Brightly shines the Trent