Photographs by Brian MacDonald
The wasps were after our jam on a magnificent Manley morning. Mike displayed skill and bravery with his bare-handed killing technique. A friendly young man with a North-East accent introduced himself as Steve, and said that about twenty miles was his normal trip. The debutant leader had planned to visit Arley Hall, Tatton Park and Dunham Massey. Ambition may have to be trimmed!
Jim, Brian Mac, Steve, Mike and myself trundled up to Kingsley and wafted along the Weaver by a roving route. Small, quiet lanes, many that even Ray may never have ridden, were the theme for the whole ride. A lady flashed past our noses at Comberbach, riding hell-for-leather on a mountain bike laden with shopping. We just about caught up with her, and had an interesting chat for a few miles. She once climbed in the Alps and cycled home to England. She left us near Arley to paint her house at Appleton Thorn. Some of us vaguely remembered once having the energy to go on a ride and still do major domestic tasks all in the same day.
Some walking was required on wide metalled ways in the grounds of Arley and Dunham Massey: persuasive e-mails for greater cycle access will be sent. After Tatton Park we finally stopped for sustenance at The Swan with two Nicks at Little Bollington. The ale was great from the village brewery (according to our very experienced beer-swilling expert, Mike). The food was also very tasty. According to Jim the best dish on view was the stunningly attractive landlady, but unfortunately she wasn’t on the menu.
Back on the road, we headed for the Trans-Pennine Trail. Brian MacDonald-Contador made devastating sporadic spurts ahead. This worried me initially, because he had said that he knew this area about as well as the far side of the moon. It turned out he was just positioning himself to take photographs of us for the website. Ta for that Brian.
An overgrown bridle path slid us toward the centre of Lymm. Take-out cappuccinos, sat in the sun with the ducks having fun. Would I remember the next intricate twists and turns Garminless, hopefully not gormless? (But sadly out of date, still with film to finish in my camera, and chrome and leather toe-strapped to my quill-stemmed Raleigh). I buoy myself up by thinking I’m actually coolly retro, and anyway Tupper of the Track managed to be a winner without sophisticated gear! Ticking along the traffic-free lushly lined lanes: Crouchley, Mag, Swineyard, Crowley, Pennypleck and Caldwell’s Gate passed with The Antrobus Arms as our last stop. Lime and soda with ice slakes the thirst. Forgot to note the price for the book I know Ray has in him.
The usual sting in the tail over the penultimate miles loomed and the steep zigzagging up to Newton Firs was certainly knackering. Steve was coughing, but conquered the summit; I think we’ll see him again. Thanks to the troops for their positive support on this slightly off-piste excursion. It was a beautiful day, no main roads and 62 miles clocked in relaxed, agreeable company. Can’t wait for next Thursday!
DH
Jim, Brian Mac, Steve, Mike and myself trundled up to Kingsley and wafted along the Weaver by a roving route. Small, quiet lanes, many that even Ray may never have ridden, were the theme for the whole ride. A lady flashed past our noses at Comberbach, riding hell-for-leather on a mountain bike laden with shopping. We just about caught up with her, and had an interesting chat for a few miles. She once climbed in the Alps and cycled home to England. She left us near Arley to paint her house at Appleton Thorn. Some of us vaguely remembered once having the energy to go on a ride and still do major domestic tasks all in the same day.
Some walking was required on wide metalled ways in the grounds of Arley and Dunham Massey: persuasive e-mails for greater cycle access will be sent. After Tatton Park we finally stopped for sustenance at The Swan with two Nicks at Little Bollington. The ale was great from the village brewery (according to our very experienced beer-swilling expert, Mike). The food was also very tasty. According to Jim the best dish on view was the stunningly attractive landlady, but unfortunately she wasn’t on the menu.
Back on the road, we headed for the Trans-Pennine Trail. Brian MacDonald-Contador made devastating sporadic spurts ahead. This worried me initially, because he had said that he knew this area about as well as the far side of the moon. It turned out he was just positioning himself to take photographs of us for the website. Ta for that Brian.
An overgrown bridle path slid us toward the centre of Lymm. Take-out cappuccinos, sat in the sun with the ducks having fun. Would I remember the next intricate twists and turns Garminless, hopefully not gormless? (But sadly out of date, still with film to finish in my camera, and chrome and leather toe-strapped to my quill-stemmed Raleigh). I buoy myself up by thinking I’m actually coolly retro, and anyway Tupper of the Track managed to be a winner without sophisticated gear! Ticking along the traffic-free lushly lined lanes: Crouchley, Mag, Swineyard, Crowley, Pennypleck and Caldwell’s Gate passed with The Antrobus Arms as our last stop. Lime and soda with ice slakes the thirst. Forgot to note the price for the book I know Ray has in him.
The usual sting in the tail over the penultimate miles loomed and the steep zigzagging up to Newton Firs was certainly knackering. Steve was coughing, but conquered the summit; I think we’ll see him again. Thanks to the troops for their positive support on this slightly off-piste excursion. It was a beautiful day, no main roads and 62 miles clocked in relaxed, agreeable company. Can’t wait for next Thursday!
DH
A great account of a great ride that explored some beautiful, hidden, byways. Well done Dave and superb memory of the route - obviously a great deal of work had gone into the planning - and it showed!
ReplyDeleteDave, you kept your promise and this area isn't easy for doing a route. No mention of losing track, so, very well done. - Ray
ReplyDelete