The Pleasure of Cycling

 Activity wise, well this week has been a quiet one with the arrival of cold weather curtailing nature in its tracks, and keeping my indoors when I've not been shivering and getting wet on my bike rides to work amid the snow and hale we've had, often at the same time.

But the weekend before that was glorious, and I seized the opportunity to get out on my Raleigh hybrid bike for the first time in months. 

I did two rides, totalling just under 50km in all, firstly on a loop out to Elston on Saturday, and then to Norwell and Muskham on Sunday. Compared to my hack work bike, the hybrid goes like a bomb although skinny tyres make for a rough time on some of the cratered local roads. 

It's a good fitness activity too, and feeling warm air rushing past your skin is you scoot along at 30km/h is joyful, not to mention the vitamin D you are getting after the dark days of winter. Aboard the bike my tourettes is controlled, and my general anxiety about the world is lessened, although occasionally my anxiety about bad driving isn't. 

I intend to get some more riding in this spring and summer, nothing heavy, nothing Bradley Wiggins, but just to see the local villages and find some nature sites.

And maybe get some tan lines as well, the mark of any proper cyclist!

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 02.03.22

Two Hours on the Bicycle

I really need more outside exercise, and with my plantaric irritation still ongoing, cycling seems to be the only way to  do it. Unless I suddenly make the Cambridge 8 or something equally unlikely.

So I have resolved to get out on the bike the next few days I have off. Today was the first of these, and in good conditions apart from a wind that seemed to be head on for my entire ride, I headed south along the N64, wondering if I'd surprise a long eared owl that roost by day in the hedgerows alongside.

Of course I didn't, and suppose I only would have done so if I'd ridden my bike directly into the hedge. There weren't any winter thrushes either, but constant flashes of white wing edges and tail bars indicated that a lot of chaffinch were about today.

Off the cycle track, I rode through Shelton village (posh), Sibthorpe village (posh), Elston (posh), East Stoke (site of famous Roses War battle, also posh) and Farndon (not posh). In East Stoke I had fantastic close views of a pair of kestrels, so close I could see every marking on their chestnut backs as they flew away from the lumpy two wheeled threat.

Rumbles was open too, so got to have a really nice cup of tea afterwards, listen to 6 music and  just feel good about the 30km ride I'd had, despite the lead legs.

More tomorrow.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 29.12.18

An Adventure to Shelton and Sibthorpe

Swapped running shoes for tires today, as I decided to give my sore legs a day off and head off out into the sticks on my noble Rockrider steed - £45 from a roadside bikeman - to find places as yet unvisited.

I headed up the cycle track where a fair few common darters were flying up in front of me, but instead of following my usual long route to Thorpe on the Elston road, I went the other way to Shelton, a small village with a fine manor and Norman church, and a smattering of very affluent houses. Typically, there were no amenities other than a red telephone box with an actual working phone in it! A rarity these days.

I was hoping it was also being used as a phone box library, but sadly, no. An old house at the end of the village had obviously supported a colony of house martins during the summer, they were still circling today.

I could have turned round here, but decided to keep on going through a world of country lanes marked with old style signposts for villages I'd never heard of despite living less than 10 miles away from them.

Eventually, I took the road for Sibthorpe, which turned out to be a slightly larger village dominated with a medieval dovecote by what I think is the River Smite. It was seemingly an important settlement in the days of Edward I. It is another chocolate boxey affluent village now, and again, no pubs, no shops and not even a phone box this time.

Good luck being elderly out in these places. Assuming you can still afford to live there.

Si

Pylons into the distance

My noble steed

The other sort of steeds

Big money house

The red telephone box

Ivy cottage

Shelton church

Shelton Manor

Quo vadis, my lord?

Sibthorpe cottage

Medieval dovecote

Sibthorpe church

Across the fields

Tatty large white

Love the shading on the forewing