Saturday 14th August 2021
I’ve always loved maps: they are what got me into cycling nearly 50 years ago. Sadly, my extensive paper collection of Ordnance Survey maps is becoming obsolete, but thankfully, maps are digital now. Digital maps offer many advantages, especially when combined with today’s GPS technology; not only do they show the topography but now they can also indicate your part in it.
Most serious cyclists use Strava, which is best described as a social network for athletes, where their rides are recorded and people can show off how far, fast and high they’ve ridden. Or run. Or swum. And then for data geeks, there’s Veloviewer, which takes all the Strava data and turbocharges it. I admit to being more of a data geek than an athlete, demonstrated by the fact that when I return from a ride, I spend almost as long looking at maps to see where I’ve been and re-living the experience.
But back to the point of this blog. All rides recorded by Strava provide a breadcrumb trail, but in digital format rather than bread (thanks for the idea Hansel. Or Gretel. Or Herren Grimm). On Veloviewer, this trail can be viewed for all rides recorded on Strava going back more than a decade. Over several years, I’ve built up a log of the routes I’ve cycled which now extends in a continuous line as far Northwest as the Butt of Lewis in the Outer Hebrides and as far Southeast as Nottingham (not nearly so romantic or as picturesque).
In 2019, I was fortunate to cycle back from the source of the River Rhine in Switzerland all the way to Essex, where I’d left my car. It’s been bothering me for some time that I now have two continuous lines with a 130 mile gap in the middle. I need to close that gap so I can claim to have cycled a continuous line for over 1700 miles. Pointless, I know, but we all need reasons to go anywhere, and it’s just that my reasons appear incomprehensible to normal people. (Best not to get me started on Veloviewer tiles and clusters or we’d be here for hours.)
So that’s why tomorrow night I’m planning to stay in a caravan just North of Melton Mowbray at the start of a 300 mile solo cycle adventure. More to come.
[Comments from Facebook]
GC: Enjoy the ride and the follow up data trail. Safe journey Bernie
JS: I concur with all of that. Happy tilling, and say Hi to Phil. A caravan though?
BK: It’s an Airbnb and is in the grounds of a private house where I can park
PC: ‘Most serious cyclists use Strava’. We’re not all solemn and earnest types you know. In the interest of inclusivity I should point out that plenty of us casual jovial riders enjoy it too!
PT: You’re doing yourself short Bernie. There’s a big blank around mid east Scotland but what about the Blairgowrie, Beyond & Back ride 2011? I saw you at the start and again at the finish so I assume that you also did the bit in-between or was that pre-Strava?
BK: Quite right, Paul, I’ve done it, but since I don’t have that data on Strava, it didn’t happen. I also can’t tick off those climbs from the 100 climbs book. But them’s the rules. (OK, maybe self-imposed rules, but still…)
Sunday 15th August 2021
The trip is underway . A very smooth (if busy) drive down to my starting point which is equidistant from Nottingham and Leicester, 20 miles to the Northwest and Southwest respectively. As soon as I arrived I went for a ride without panniers (because I could) and headed North to intercept with a route taken two years previously. My Strava data confirms that I did indeed intercept the route since I gained a couple of 2nd places on two segments. Disappointed not to get PBs, but I was probably slipstreaming Phil Claydon, Des and Jim Solan last time.
I am so glad that I don’t suffer from hayfever since South Nottinghamshire is surprisingly rural and most of the wheat fields (or some such crop) have been harvested and the straw is now being baled. I saw more tractors and farm machinery than I could shake a stick at, and some of the machines were enormous. Mix that with narrow lanes, and the outcome was occasionally quite scary. The type of hay trailers depicted by Constable were conspicuous by their absence. Instead these hay trailers were like a block of flats toppled sideways, pulled by behemoths driven at impossibly fast speeds by teenagers. (Am I getting old, you reckon?) But when they weren’t being terrorised by tractors or combined harvesters, the tiny villages were gorgeous and very well kept. Small brick cottages were the norm, most with pretty front gardens with many flower displays and pristine paintwork.
It’s very flat round here, which makes a change after the County Durham trip last month. Everything is relative, however. I was chatting to the owner of the Airbnb accommodation who asked my proposed route today. When I told him, he gave a quiet chuckle before predicting that ‘the hill at Stathern would test me!’. The hill in question turned out to be a gentle 85 metre climb over about 3\4 mile, not quite the leg-tester he forecast. But still, there are people who live in the Fylde who find the M55 motorway bridge a challenge. We’re all different.
Today’s events had been going very well until a short time ago. I knew the only pub in the village didn’t serve food on Sunday nights, so I had the foresight to bring some delicious chicken stew for tea (thanks, Geraldine!), but since internet in the caravan is almost non-existent, and there’s no phone signal, I thought I’d nip to the pub to have a loan of their WiFi. Then I found that the pub is shut altogether on a Sunday night, so no amiable pint discussing The Archers with the locals after all. And then it began to rain, so I’m now back in the ‘van with a cup of hot chocolate and a Tunnock’s caramel wafer telling myself that if that’s the worst thing that’s happened today, I haven’t done badly at all.
I’ll try to post this, but without photos (the WiFi is that bad, I doubt it’d ever send) and hopefully add the piccies tomorrow. (They’re usually the best bit, far better than all my verbiage).
JS on Facebook: Rural is great but so many pubs closed or not serving food every day now. Hope they can all recover. Keep riding, keep writing.
Monday 16th August 2021
The touring caravan last night was good but there were lots of things for me to learn about caravanning. Two types of electricity, for a start, pumps for various things, cunningly concealed switches, but everything worked, and hopefully continued to work after I left.
I was on the road by 9am, heading generally Southeast which was great since there was a brisk Northwesterly breeze.
Breakfast at a café in Melton Mowbray (no, not a pork pie, but I did buy one for lunch later). For a region noted for its pork pies and stilton cheeses, I expected to see numerous pig farms and cattle along the way, but, no, just more fields of arable pasture plus the odd flock of sheep.
Much more undulating than yesterday, which, with the wind assistance, didn’t give me a problem. However, the last part of the ride, although much flatter, zig-zagged generally South. On the zigs, the wind really made its presence felt slowing me down to single figures, but on the zags, I just rolled along at 20mph, the wind giving no assistance whatsoever. Very odd, that.
My route today kept me away from all the big towns, and indeed all the small ones too. If I hadn’t bought my lunch in Melton, I may have struggled to eat today. As it was, I chose a lovely bench beside a church to eat my pork pie. The rain, which was just holding off all morning, then began to worsen. So there I am, eating my picnic lunch in a lovely spot getting very gently rained on. I could feel the pitying stares of the occasional passers-by, but my risk assessment concluded it was preferable to get a little bit wet than to try to eat lunch later when it might’ve been lashing down. But as soon as I finished, so did the rain! Ah well. That’s the things about risks; sometimes they don’t happen.
Not many photos today since almost all the day was spent on tiny country roads which are not really photogenic. The villages were worth photographing, but there were too many of them!
(inc. borrowed aerial shot)
My accommodation tonight is a private house in Huntingdon which is well located for the town centre, but, when I cycled through, seemed very busy, so my chosen food venue is a lovely quiet pub on the edge of town. It’s very ‘traditional’, so it feels just like my local. And it’s quiet. Prices are about 20% higher than at home, but the staff are really pleasant. Lovely evening.
[Comments from Facebook]
GC: Sounds like a Bernie adventure par excellence. Enjoy, stay safe.
BK: Thanks Ged
KC: …enjoying your blog. Huntingdon brings back memories of when I was on secondment to RAF Wyton!
BK: I went through Brampton today, but no sign of the RAF base now. It was shut 8 years ago and demolished 4 years ago for 400-500 houses. Have you seen Wyton on Google maps? There’re hundreds of cars parked on the runway!
KC: Where have those 8 years gone?! I’ll check out Google maps. Are you going to cycle through St Ives, it’s a nice town
Tuesday 17th August 2021
I woke up wondering where I was this morning. Not that unusual, perhaps, but my confusion was made worse because at 5.30, all I could hear were gulls screaming. I was in Huntingdon at the time which is at least 60 miles from the sea so what were gulls doing there?
I managed to get back off to sleep only to awake at 7am to the sound of gentle rain falling. I think I preferred the gulls. I’m trying to persuade myself that even though I’m in a house, like in a tent, the rain always sounds worse than it really is. I just had to get out there and face it.
I’d previously let the owner know that I’d be leaving before 9am, but at 8.45, there were no sounds in the house, so I quietly let myself out and posted back the key. I did leave a note apologising for my ungentlemanly behaviour.
Ten minutes along the route and the rain had more or less stopped and it remained dry for the rest of the day. Result!
I had been recommended to visit St Ives, so I modified my route slightly to see the town, which was indeed pretty. Thankfully, I never met the kits, cats, sacks or wives as I was going into town which is just as well in these Covid times, because I’ll bet they wouldn’t all be wearing masks. (I wondered later if they were perhaps in Cornwall?)
The route to Cambridge was along a guided busway which was rather boring but a strong tailwind & oh-so-smooth tarmac made it a wonderful ride into town. Cambridge itself was not great. The city is still pretty and certainly worth a visit, but the narrow lanes, high volume of white vans and cyclists who knew where they were going made it a bit stressful. I spent an hour or so mooching round before having a coffee overlooking Trinity College.
More guided busways out of the city before moving on to small unclassified roads down to Writtle, near Chelmsford. I planned to meet Phil (my host for tonight) at a café 10 miles from his house, but sadly we arrived just a few minutes too late and it had closed for the day. A couple of pints of good ale and a large bowl of home cooked spaghetti later and my daily calorie deficit was corrected.
By 3.30pm I completed my quest to have a continuous recorded cycle route from the North of Scotland to Andermatt in Switzerland. Now all there is to do is cycle back to my car 130-odd miles away. Easy if you say it quick.
[Comments from Facebook]
KC: Glad you made St Ives. Was it the A14 to Cambridge?
BK: I kept well clear of the A14, Kathy.
KC: Nightmare road!
ER: Being on the Catthorpe Interchange on a foggy afternoon needing the A14 to Histon near Cambridge ranks as one of my worst driving
JS: “Cafe was closed so had to go to pub”. Almost like it wasn’t planned by one or other of you. . In my experience you should never trust a fellow with more than six wives, especially if he keeps his cats in sacks.
BK: ‘in your experience’? You know some very odd people, Jim.
GC: Sounds like a great adventure Bernie, despite the mid-August winter weather. Safe journey back
PT: Always preferred St Ives to Huntington when visiting RAF Wyton – it brings back many memories (some good).
BK: To be honest, Huntingdon felt a bit rough and very run down. (Apologies to any Huntingdonians reading this, but I speak as I find). But the accommodation was fine and I didn’t venture into town to eat.
Wednesday 18th August 2021
A 9am start with Phil to guide me on my way with maybe the best weather of the trip so far. A fairly brisk wind from the West was neither hindrance nor help up to Newmarket which was 48 miles due North.
(The sign advertised free entry!
I saw very few vehicles on the road today which was very pleasant. Sat outside a café in Newmarket beside a busy little roundabout and I now know why I saw no cars this morning. They are all here, tooting their horns with gay abandon.
I was a little taken aback by the price of a cup of tea and a chocolate brownie (bought unseen) at this café. When the order arrived, I can see why the huge markup was applied but I never expected the visual and gastronomic excess that I received. Who does, when they just order a tea and a brownie at lunchtime? Not the jockeys I’m sure.
I cycled alongside a series of stud farms near Newmarket and couldn’t help notice the tree-lined paddocks all along the road. There were dense 8ft high hedges in front of a stand of 60ft trees all along the road into town. The entrance gates to the various farms appeared fortified. All this apparently to hide the embarrassment of a few stallions doing what comes naturally. Who knew they were so shy?
After Newmarket, the route was completely flat into Ely, which is on the only hill for miles around. By ‘hill’, I mean it boasts a contour line. Most of the surrounding countryside is below sea level, so this is something to brag about in these parts.
I haven’t been here for about 25 years, but the cathedral is still as wonderful. I had a look around the town, but apart from the cathedral, nothing else caught my eye, so I went on to find somewhere to eat. There’s nothing near my accommodation (which only opens at 6pm), so I thought I’d eat before I checked in then I could just settle down for the night with my book.
The pub I chose was about 4 miles away and when I arrived at 4.45, I asked if they served food. “I don’t know” came the reply. “When will you know?” was the obvious retort. “When the chef gets in”. Oh well, I suppose the chap did his best with the information he had.
I met the chef coming on duty at 5pm and he said they’d be serving food from 6pm! So now I’m enjoying a pint and deciding what to do next. I have several options. What do you suggest?
[Comments from Facebook]
JS: Another pint and a packet of crisps.
PY: Loving these write ups
KC: Another good day! That brownie looked yummy
BK: It was delicious, Kathy but not what I expected. Nor the tea in a glass. I paid a lot for it though.
JW: Looks like you’re having a good adventure. I suppose because of all the miles you’ve been doing it’s OK to stock up with calories.
BK: One of the great things about cycling, Jeff is the guilt-free eating.
Update.
I had agreed to be at my accommodation at 6pm today, so since there was no chance of food before then, I decided to leave the pub at 5.45 and ‘check in’ have a shower and return. However, after discussing local hostelries with the Airbnb owner, she recommended another pub, slightly closer, so I went there instead.
I arrived at 7.15, ordered a drink and eventually placed my order (for a main meal, thankfully) by 7.45, but by 8.40 I was still waiting! They were very busy, but still…
I’m thinking my own choice of pub may have been preferable. They won’t like my TripAdvisor report.
It’s now going dark, but I do have lights. I’ll report back tomorrow on the outcome.
Stop press.
I’m not the only one waiting. There are several irate customers now. It’ll all be kicking off in a few minutes.
[Comments from Facebook]
GS: Bernard, just throw a chair to get it all started . Hope you’re well.
BK: Trust you, Gary!
BK: Everything is good. Meal was excellent when it came and they knocked off the drink cost. Other customers are being similarly appeased. Now for a quick 3.5 mile sprint home in the dark.
GC: Sounds like an exit stage left moment Bernie, with a very large breakfast to compensate in the morning
EK: Home by 21.55 I see! Hope the meal was worth the wait! Happy Thursday x
BK: It was a very good meal in the end. Mine was much better than some other customers’, listening to the comments around the room. I would’ve been home sooner, but it was pitch black and I mistakenly took a right instead of a left and ended up near the pub I’d drank in earlier!
JS: Beer and navigation always makes for adventure
BK: Especially free beer, Jim
Thursday 18th August 2021
The overnight rain had cleared by 9am when I headed out into the fens once more. The enormous blue skies round here look gorgeous on a clear sunny day but sadly today, with heavy, dark grey clouds, I had to use my imagination. After turning out of the village, the roads became extremely quiet. I saw not a car, person nor even a house for the next six miles. After the town of Chatteris, the same happened again, but this time the tarmac on the arrow-straight roads had been replaced with gravel. Progress was slow, and not helped by the headwind I had all day. In some ways it reminded me of my old time trialling days in the 1970s. Then, I selected the level of effort and cadence that I knew I could sustain and then just got my head down and dug in. It was boring and painful, which was one of the reasons I gave up time trials in the early 80s. Being rubbish at it was another reason.
I enjoyed breakfast (purchased earlier from a convenience store near my digs) by the now-derelict Ramsey Abbey listening to some of the locals but failing to understand barely a word they said since their accents were so thick. I don’t think they were discussing matters of great importance, though.
Coffee and a shortbread in Yaxley just South of Peterborough kept me going until my lunch stop at Ketton, near Rutland Water.
My route navigation let me down a touch today. The Garmin said to cross the busy A47 at Collyweston and follow a track alongside the road. What it didn’t say was how I should negotiate the 10ft fence topped with razor wire. The track in question was the peritrack inside the boundary of RAF Wittering! I chose to take my chances on the A47 rather than incur the wrath of the MoD Police.
With RAF Brampton and Wyton on Monday and RAF Wittering and Cottesmore today, it feels like I’m conducting a valedictory tour of the old RAF bases I’ve previously visited. They look better from this side of the fence.
My other navigational blip was by Rutland Water. I tried to find a way in according to Garmin but was turned back by a severe-looking no entry sign. The real entrance was just 1\4 mile further along. The same problem happened in reverse when trying to get out, this time the notices said ‘Keep out, private property’. But just two blips in 350 miles isn’t bad.
Overall, I travelled through seven counties, although Suffolk only just counts. And that assumes that Rutland is still a county – it has boundary signs which suggests it wants to be.
Now back home safely with the original purpose achieved. I’m already plotting another adventure.
[Comments from Facebook]
JS: Counties and their boundaries are not as distinct as they used to be. It’s surprisingly difficult to identify exactly what counties still exist and where their borders are on modern mapping systems.
BK: On Garmin, the default ride name on Tuesday was ‘Huntingdonshire cycling’. So is/was Huntingdonshire a county??
JS: I don’t think so. I thought Huntingdonshire was part of Cambridgeshire. We had a similar scenario with Richmondshire (part of N. Yorks) a few weeks ago.
KC: Sounds like you had a bit of a tough day! We cycled around Rutland water back in the 90’s , I think it’s approx. 20 miles. Another area that brings back memories used to stay close to RAF Cottesmore, when working there
BK: RAF Cottesmore is now Kendrew Army barracks. I was last there in 2010 just after its closure was announced. Not a happy atmosphere.
KC: I was last there when BAES had built the office block.