A ride on tracks and trails through the empty heart of Wales.
A round-up of pictures and accompanying “micro-stories” of no particular significance….
Happy days, and not so happy days; a story of the untimely end to the greatest bicycle I’ve owned, reflections on what could have been, and an atmospheric micro-adventure in the far west.
A quick midweek post-work / pre-work two wheeled escape featuring a sweaty coastal bivy and some musing on being more sparrow.
The summer solstice marks the end of the astronomical spring, and while inspiration was hard to come by I did manage to capture a little bit of what spring is perhaps meant to be while out riding around… I think. Maybe.
When defined solely in terms of riding, despite being limited to the narrow confines of the far west, the past year has been an unexpectedly rich one; I explored new trails, discovered stories I might otherwise never have known, and stitched together routes that likewise may never have happened.
The closest thing to a summit here in the far west is probably Carn Galva, a granite outcrop on the Penwith moor, just a bit west of Zennor, a mere 827ft above the Atlantic crashing on the cliffs far below. It is unlikely that books would be written of a ride to the summit of Carn Galva, however in a world shrunken by Covid it does, perhaps, represent a worthy objective for a morning on two wheels.
It turns out these things might have a life of their own after all; pictures and ramblings to wrap up 2020, a new year campout, and thoughts for a new lockdown.
Although geographically constrained by the ocean, the far west of Cornwall has a great deal of “wiggle room” – opportunities to use a bicycle as a means to strengthen my connection to my home, with the added drama of winter weather.
October in Cornwall is very much a month of transition as the trails turn to slop, and, as the early season storms sweep in off the Atlantic, the wind charts change from summer’s cool tones of blue and green, to the oranges and reds of winter. It is certainly an interesting month, so here is something of a photographic riding diary.
Hitting the eject button with a two-day micro-adventure close to home in the far west of Cornwall. Linking together a bunch of muddy tracks and trails with a night on the cliffs made for a perfect journey of (re)discovery.
A lovely month for riding as the light softens, shadows lengthen, and the signs of the changing seasons accelerate. With winter knocking on the door, and in the absence of prospects for a larger adventure, finding ways to turn everyday riding into nano-adventures, and exploring my local area anew continue to bring a much-needed sense of purpose to the days.
Life with my Surly Big Fat Dummy after two years of ownership, and a summer of exploring the boundaries of the kind of journeys that are reasonable on a big-tyred pedal-powered pickup truck.
A mid-summer sea kayak micro adventure along the north coast of Penwith.
A local riding and paddling diary from the post-full-lockdown days of June. As the spring wildflowers fade and the dust turns to the mud of the summer, a period of relative peace and quiet prior to the full opening of the tourist industry.