Cycling adventures across Yorkshire, Britain and beyond
With rain and very strong winds forecast for today, I scaled down my plans for an eighty-mile research ride to, er, eight miles. Instead of heading out to the Jurassic Coast out Lyme Regis way, I’d stay on Portland itself, hopping down to the Bill: the southernmost point of the entire south coast, except for,…
In Thomas Hardy’s novels, Dorset is a miserable, oppressive backwater – something tourism marketing glosses over. But I enjoyed cycling round a few sights that the gloomy old scribbler would have recognised today, and it wasn’t miserable or oppressive at all. Except for Poundbury, maybe. Weymouth’s prom looked inviting in the morning sun, especially as…
‘Norber Erratics’. Jazzband collective? Invitation cricket touring XI? No, another Yorkshire scenic gem: strange rock formations in Three Peaks country, near Ingleborough. Huge sandstone rocks balance precariously on narrow limestone props, as if positioned by some award-winning outdoors sculptor. The sandstone blocks are ‘erratics’: intruders, deposited by glaciers long long ago, before the internet, before…
Today was a breeze. Literally. A huge tailwind westerly propelled me at speed along the Wall as if on an e-bike. I set out from my Carlisle guesthouse at first light, following paths through a park and past the town’s very own Leaning Tower. I somehow ended up following the walker’s path rather than the…
Hadrian’s Cycleway closely follows the very trails that the great Emperor himself never took during his visits to Britain. Hadrian was quite a character: cultured but ruthless, he consolidated the Empire with a largely peaceful tenure. He was also Spanish, adopted, gay, and bearded, which clearly some purists didn’t like – Roman Emperors had never…
I’m on a diet. A Roman-era diet. I’m following Hadrian’s Wall, eating and drinking only things that the construction-loving Emperor himself would have recognised. In short, this means no potatoes, tomatoes, chilli, avocado, pasta or other Age-of-Exploration stuff; but plenty of meat, fish and shellfish, crunchy salads, chunky stews, old-fashioned herbs, olives and fruit. And,…
I’ve always had a soft spot for Berwick-upon-Tweed. Like saddle soreness, perhaps. But today I was happy again to visit the splendidly walled border town at the end of a fabulous sunny day ride visiting another excellent cycle-cafe. The place in question was Lanterne Rouge, a friendly and lively magnet for local riders that often…
At last, life is returning to normal: trains delayed an hour by signal failure, just like the Before Times. I did a quick jaunt to Stevenage today, to investigate the very agreeable Spoke CC cycle cafe in Codicote just outside. And got very wet in the process: it pelted down with rain all day. The…
I learned with excitement yesterday that Bamford Clough – a hitherto obscure, steep, rough, unsurfaced byway taking to the skies from the village of Bamford in the Hope Valley – was tarmacked a few days ago, and is now a genuine road. A road with a signed gradient of 35%, no less, which makes it…
The Tour of Britain passed through the Staffordshire Peaks today. So did I, though rather slower. But with my pals Mark and Andy we cycled from Longnor through the micro-Dolomites by Earl Sterndale – a village, not a jazzman – and to Flash, the highest village in Britain. (Yes, higher than anything in Scotland: Wanlockhead…