March 17th – Unusually, I came home through Hammerwich. I don’t usually do that, but had to pop into Brownhills West on the way back. The weather was vey grim, and I only just missed getting soaked. Hammerwich, however, was as beautiful as ever, and the overcast weather made for moody, cinematic photos. On the corner of the bizarrely-named Lions Den and Station Road, I noticed Hall Cottage, which I’d not really studied previously. A beautiful little house.
March 17th – A recovery ride. I had to do some bits and pieces in Lichfield, which was a good opportunity to spin the aching legs. Surprisingly, they were quite fluid once I got moving. The weather was rather grim and Lichfield as quiet as I’d come to expect it lately. It really is starting to give the feeling of a place half asleep. It was in Breadmarket street that I noticed this; it must have been a really, really unlucky shot, speared neatly on a pigeon spike. That’s gotta hurt… I bet the prize striker got a ribbing for it.
March 16th – The first video of the Peak District ride. I will do a second in time.
A journey from Comford Wharf, on the Cromford Canal in the Derwent Vally, Derbyshire, to Hassop Station in on the Monsal Trail, not far from Bakewell. The trail starts with a 300m Climb to HArborough Rocks, near Brassington, and follows the High Peak Trail for 12 miles of utterly flat, traffic-free trail. Joining the Tissington at Parsley Hay, it’s a slow climb to Hurdlow, the on to the Penine Bridleway, where the route peaks at Fivewells at 440m. A sharp descent to Wyedale, vita Topley Pike and the A6 ensues, then the Monsal trail to Hassop, for a well deserved lunch. Part 2 to follow. From Hassop, I cycled the rest of the Monsall, then into Derby on the A6, then home via NCN 54 – Mackworth, Etwall, Egginton, Burton, Barton and Lichfield. About 115 miles total.
Music is the divine ‘This Sky’ by the Derek Trucks Band.
March 16th – As I noted last week, something stirs in the damper parts of the hedgerow. With every shower, more and more amphibians are on the move. In the dark, on a dry night, this common toad was crossing Netherstowe Lane. These misunderstood creatures are seeking water to mate for spring. Their ribbons of spawn are distinct from the clumps left by frogs. Utterly devoid of road sense, they are killed in their thousands at this time of year as sadly, they blend into the tarmac rather too well to see. Being a soft old sod, I stop, and help Mr. Toad to the other side of the road by nudging him gently on the backside with my foot. Best that way, they’ll occasionally let out a startling scream, but at least they won’t wee all over you, a defensive gesture that often shocks the unwary…
March 16th – A 115 mile day ride. Up with the birds, an on the train to Cromford, Derbyshire, at 7:00am. Arriving at 8:20, I had breakfast, then hit the High Peak Trail, which starts with a 300m climb out of the Derwent Valley. Transferring to the Tissington trail and Penine Bridalway, I shot down into Chee Dale via the A6 at Topley Pike, before undertaking the Monsal Trail in the downhill direction. Back on the A6 at Bakewell, into Derby, back out via Mackworth, Etwall, Egginton and the joys of cycle route 68. Homewards via Burton and Lichfield, a great ride.
As readers can probably tell, this week I’ve had some time to myself away from work to get back in condition to undertake some longer, summer rides. Easier than I thought, my pace wasn’t keen, but my stamina was good. A great, if not terribly photogenic day.
March 15th – High Bridge used to conduct the Uttoxter Road over the River Trent at Handsacre, until it became to small for the increasing level of traffic. It still nobly spans the waterway, but it lets the new bridge do the work of carrying the B5013. Built in 1830 by the Coalbrookdale Company, it’s a fine bridge, and one of several noble bridges in Staffordshire sidelined for stronger, younger models. Pedestrians, cyclists and equestrians can still cross though, and admire the wonderful views and brilliant, elegant engineering. A hidden, almost forgotten gem.
March 15th – Hard to get a good shot of Hanch Hall, and today was no exception. It is, after all, a private residence, and it’s well screened by trees, even in winter. I did, however, note this fine fellow strutting his stuff. You don’t see may peacocks around these days… every hall should have a few.
March 15th – No tyres are completely puncture proof (well, that anyone would want to ride) and today, I flatted. Just on Meerash Hill, near the abandoned farm at Hammerwich, as it happened. My tyres of choice are Schwalbe Marathon Plus and they’re damned fine rubber, with all kinds of protection inside. However, hawthorn spines are the work of the devil (or rather a master of evolution) and very, very tough. This one pushed clean through a 4mm band of rubber, kevlar and anti-thorn braid. Such is life.
Time for a pro-tip. I always carry disposable gloves in the toolkit. Weigh nothing, can be used several times, and stop the bars getting grubby from the oily fingers post-repair. They’re also excellent for picking up sharps inside the tyre; they snag on anything foreign, without hurting your fingers. A quick patch up and I was on my way in no time.
March 14th – That golden mist was incredible. On the canal between Barton and Alrewas it shrouded distant boats, bridges and trees, and at Whychnor and Lichfield it rendered normally quite mundane views magical. I’m glad I didn’t miss this. This is why I cycle…
March 14th – A run up the Trent valley to Walton-on-Trent, then back via Barton and Alrewas. A gorgeous afternoon, chilly, but with a wonderful, golden mist. Here at Whitemore Haye, I noticed the swans had descended, and were loafing in the fields. I’ve mentioned it before, but these birds are the bane of farmers lives – beautiful as they are, they’ll decimate fields of young crops, and are breeding at an incredible rate. I pity the poor person who eventually moots the idea of a cull, but I can’t see the current population of birds being sustainable with clutches of 6 or more being the norm.
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