Wednesday August 14th 2024
There are a whole bunch of Veloviewer tiles in the area to the West of Manchester which I hadn’t cycled in so today I set out to rectify this. The area is not one I particularly look forward to visiting since on the map it looks to be congested, with lots of motorways and busy roads but my faithful travelling guide, Cycle.Travel, suggested that there were plenty of quiet roads which weaved through the urban sprawl.
I had planned to park at Pennington Flash, a local beauty spot popular with families and wild swimmers which sported a large car park. It cost £2.50 to park, but didn’t take cash. I’m very wary of these parking apps that many places demand we use now, so I was reluctant to commit to this location. Instead, I found a free lay-by near Golborne that was almost on my route and parked there instead.
The route proved to be really pleasant, with very quiet roads and almost totally flat. It sorta skirted around Chat Moss, an area I’d explored previously on both road and mountain bike, so this trip nicely linked up routes previously ridden. (I do like things tidy)
Highlights included an eccentric garden near Croft (famous for its motorway interchange) which boasted a model of the Statue of Liberty, the surprisingly pleasant cycle routes through the Birchwood industrial park, the delightful toll bridge over the Ship Canal at Warburton, the Trafford Centre, the Bridgewater Canal past the RHS garden and the East Lancs Road. OK, the last was hardly a highlight, but it was a quick and convenient (although noisy) way back to the car.
Just a word on Birchwood. I’ve cycled through there several times and I’m always struck by how pleasant it is. It’s more commercial than industrial, offices, not factories and during office hours, it’s very quiet. The cycle paths have excellent surfaces and as long as I’m following a route on my Garmin, I rarely get lost. It is well sign-posted, but unless you are very familiar with all the local destinations, the signs aren’t much help.
Today’s route was one I created months ago and then forgot about, so when I rode it today, I wasn’t expecting the occasional diversion to capture tiles and the first one caught me out. My Garmin said to turn left at a T-junction which I did, but almost immediately afterwards, it beeped again and told me to make a U-turn. Annoyed that I’d turned left instead of right, I spun round and continued as directed. It was only when I got home did I realise that I was actually correct to have gone left but should have continued for a further quarter mile to capture a tile near HMP Risley before making the U-turn. Ah well, I’ll have to return here some time. After this I managed to recognise the other diversions and in so doing captured several other target tiles.
I wasn’t looking forward to riding through the grounds of the Trafford Centre as the route dictated, but I was pleasantly surprised: really good cycle paths took me right through the complex well away from the traffic and any shoppers. I was soon on the Bridgewater Canal which is a very convenient corridor passing through the busiest parts of Manchester. The path’s a bit bumpy for a road bike and there are many pedestrians, but overall, it’s far better than the alternative, especially when passing through Stretford and Worsley.
Tuesday 20th August
I just had to go back to Risley to get that tile I missed last week and today I spotted an opportunity and grabbed it. I had booked two nights at my favourite YHA near Chester, so rather than driving straight there, I called off at Golborne once more and took a spin round a similar, but much shorter route to incorporate the Risley tile plus a couple of others. I followed this up by planning two walks close to the River Dee south of Chester to gather some elusive tiles which were not accessible by road.
The two walks became three due to my inappropriate choice of clothing. The first walk was to be an easy six miles out and back alongside the river which here forms the border between England and Wales. I say easy, but I was assuming that the paths were accessible and not completely overgrown with nettles and brambles. Even then I could have coped if I’d worn long trousers, but after half a mile of getting stung and scratched, I gave up and turned back. I’d only got one of the three tiles I’d targeted but after another look at the map I found an alternative if I drove down to the next village and took another short walk.
The final walk of the day was to approach the river from the Welsh side and if I extended my planned walk by half a mile or so I could complete the set. Easy! But now I’m sitting here with smarting legs after the nettle encounters.
There is still an outstanding tile in this area but that is within the grounds of Eaton Hall, the family seat of the Duke of Westminster, but as luck would have it, I’m going there to take afternoon tea with him on Sunday. Well, he might not be there personally, and I did have to pay for the privilege of walking around the grounds, but at £15 it’s cheap for a rare tile, especially one that Jim doesn’t have. [Post script. Aaargh! I went on Sunday as planned and since there was no internet signal (and I didn’t rigorously check beforehand where I had to go), I never got the tile! I was very close, and I am sure that it was in reach and within the area we were allowed to walk, but I couldn’t check. Next year then. And another 15 quid.]
The short ride this morning was great. Although it was windy, it was very flat. I came across a stone monument in a park in Risley which was on the site of a Royal Ordnance Factory from over 80 years ago. I served my apprenticeship at ROF Chorley (which produced the same munitions) so this brought back many memories. What I still find fascinating was that all the filling factories were laid out in exactly the same style, even down to the building numbers. The maintenance section (where I worked) had numbers beginning with 10, shell filling was Group 8, with fuses and detonators on Group 1. An information board confirmed that ROF Risley followed this same pattern.
This morning I’d left home wearing cycling gear, so when I’d finished the ride, I changed back into normal clothes (it was a quiet lay-by, after all) but as soon as I’d shed my kecks, who would pass by but a cycling club with probably over 20 riders! And it wasn’t a racing club, but one of these casual groups pottering along at <10 mph with everyone gazing around admiring the scenery, which, at this time was obscured by me with my pants round my ankles. I suppose it might’ve brightened their day and gave them something to talk about at their café stop.
It’s a lazy trip this week. I’m eating in at the hostel each night. They have a very limited menu, but this is no hardship for just two nights. Tonight I had burger and chips after seeing one delivered to another diner and it looked splendid. Tomorrow, I may opt for the pizza which is my more usual staple.
The evening was spent in the grandly-named Ballroom sitting too close to a guy who I’ve met here once before. He collared me last time I was here and I struggled to get away, having to listen to his extravagant tales which grew ever more unbelievable. At first, I genuinely believed that he’d travelled extensively in the USA but became more cautious when he talked of becoming very friendly with the Alabama Police force, even to the extent that they often took him out on patrol with them! The lady who he was talking to tonight was hearing similar outlandish tales, one of them describing how he’d been to Florida to a dinner where all former American astronauts were invited. My man claimed to have sat at a table with John Glenn and later chatted with many of the astronauts. He also told the lady that he had multiple sclerosis and was also having chemotherapy for cancer. Very tragic, if true, but in the circumstances, I had to wonder whether he was just spinning a yarn. If the stories were really true, what he was doing spending so much time in a hostel near Chester? I was just glad not to have been his target audience tonight.
Wednesday 21st August
Despite the threats from the Met Office at the weekend suggesting that the remnants of Hurricane Ernesto may cause disruption today, the morning turned out dry and pleasant. A bit windy, but as I spent the day meandering, it was never in my face for too long.
Once more, the roads were wonderfully quiet, and ironically, the most traffic I encountered was on the canal sections through Chester but these were pedestrians so not a problem.
The first part of the ride looped South East before heading back into the city before heading South past where I was walking yesterday. It seemed that I would arrive in Farndon about 12.30 so I’d promised myself another huge scone from Maggie’s café. I’d called in there for refreshment on my walk yesterday and it was so good, I decided to return, but when I arrived it was shut! Well the sign in the window said ‘open’ contradicting the closed sign on the door. Since I habitually enter cafés through the door, this was the sign I chose to believe. Of course, I never got my scone. Google Maps suggested another place a few miles up the road would be able to satisfy my needs so I took my appetite there.
When I arrived, the place turned out to be a rather up-market Italian restaurant with real Italian chefs chatting outside whilst having a break. Undeterred, I went in and although they didn’t offer cake they did stock flapjack: I suspect that this was brought in just to satisfy passing cyclists who routinely appeared to call in here.
From there it was just 25 miles back to base with a tailwind which was great. My route took me along the North bank of the Dee along the Wales Coast Cycle route and just before I turned off, I noticed that the Roodee racecourse was just ahead, so I took a slight detour to see it.
I’ve been here before, but I’ve no idea when or why, but I certainly remembered it. Perhaps I once took advantage of the huge car park that was adjacent.
The last leg was along the Millennium Greenway which by now was very familiar to me. I was back at 3:30 and after a shower and a snack I was refreshed and ready for an evening watching out for the resident fantasist so I could avoid him once more. Thankfully, he didn’t recognise me or I might’ve been in for a long and boring evening.
Thursday 22nd August
Well I’m feeling a bit woozy now just after finishing today’s ride. The last 16 miles of the route took me along the same roads and paths as yesterday (planning error – it’s what comes of arranging routes weeks apart) and as I was cycling along a quiet stretch of canal through Chester I passed a happy group of men who I initially thought had been litter picking since they had with them a bag full of cider and beer cans. As they cheerily waved me on and shouted encouragement, the alcohol fumes from their breath were so strong that they nearly caused me to wobble into the canal. Once I’d recovered from that onslaught on the senses, a few minutes later I was following a long-haired dude on a bike who every few seconds emitted an impressive plume of smoke which was from neither a cigarette nor a vape but smelled like something else entirely. Does passive smoking apply to weed as well as cigarettes? I was back at my car soon afterwards and wondering whether I was still fit to drive home, but I chanced it anyway.
Today was mixed in terms of weather. It was dry initially as I cycled alongside the main road past Stanlow with the brisk South Westerly not causing any problems, but then after seven miles the rain started. It was heavy for about an hour before easing off to drizzle and some light showers so that by 11:45, it was dry enough so I could sit out and have a snack. A good thing about the YHA ‘unlimited breakfast’ is that with careful husbandry (and a couple of serviettes) it can double up as lunch. The toast and jam was a bit squished after a few hours in my pocket but very welcome in the absence of any refreshment stops.
The route (which I quaintly called Flint Mountain) was flat for the first ten and the last twenty miles but the middle bit was lumpy since after the initial climb up from the Dee estuary, it skirted around the edge of the Clwydian Range and was constantly climbing or descending on tiny roads with high hedges. The hedges had the advantage of keeping with wind off me but obscured any views.
On the way back, I became aware that I would pass by the site of a youth hostel where I’d stayed in 1977. I distinctly remember the Maeshafn hostel because it was the first time I’d ever seen three-story bunk beds. I couldn’t recall the look of the hostel apart from the memory of its stamp (all hostels provided an ink stamp in your membership card after each visit), but I spotted the place as I cycled past today.
Last night in the hostel I was tucked up in my bed with the lights out soon after 10pm. There is an unwritten rule in hostel dormitories: when someone’s in bed and the lights are out, you don’t barge in and put the main lights on and start banging and crashing about as the latest resident did at 10:30. After he’d messed about for five minutes the other occupant came in (who was with me last night) and they began chatting so I reluctantly heard both their life stories. The chap from the previous night was from Turkey and was working at Jodrell Bank as a cost analyst. He was lodging at the hostel until he found more permanent accommodation. The other (noisy) guy was a teacher coming to the region to take a post locally. The following morning the teacher acted like he’d never been away from home before when I saw him at breakfast. He couldn’t fathom how to work the coffee dispenser (how can he never have come across one before?) and then the toaster had him baffled too. Both were very normal appliances regularly found in hotels and really not difficult to operate. I felt sorry for the kids he’s about to teach.
That’s it for this month – no more bike trips now until September when I’m in Scotland exploring the area new to me between Wigtown and Stranraer.
