I was rocking along in the old Berlingo on the way to Holt when I ran into yet another road closure, this time at Saighton. When I eventually arrived at Holt, Maggie’s staff were very busy serving our riders. It was good to see that Jim had made it but he wasn’t out for the day. Trevor, Keith, George and me appeared to constitute the moderate group for the day, but Dave Pipe popped up to join us late doors. I had an intricate, quiet route planned to the Boathouse at Ellesmere. Fiona was in my face about not voting Green in the elections that day if I was keen on petrol cars. On checking their policies today, she has a point, but they are unlikely to impose their aims until I’m pushing up daisies.
So, we set out for Tilston via Wetreins, losing Dave Pipe on the way. He explained to George that he was still feeling the effects of a longish Tuesday tandem ride, also his bike’s battery was not fully charged. Through Farndon two of our group had galloped ahead to the B5130, so I think he felt that it was a pace he couldn’t sustain. I could have explained that once we settled in, the pace would be very moderate with me leading! I’ve been in touch with Dave since, and he had enjoyed a relaxed solo tootle down the lanes, so no harm done.
It was another of those days when it was hard to know what to wear; we were into a cool wind starting out, but the afternoon was likely to be warm. Freezing fingered Krazy Keith was lusting after my woolly Widnes market gloves that are so unfashionable as to be street cool . We were soon flowing down the lacey lanes from Tilston to Threapwood and beyond. It was reassuring to have Trevor’s caravanner’s navigating nouse together with his Garmin Edge interstellar on-board computer that can even measure his glucose level and guide him to the nearest cake shop if it needs a lift. My own prosaic paper navigation system needed swopping at Hamner as I moved to my Shrewsbury area map. I had used Bryan Wade- like highlighter markings made the night before to indicate the intended route: pink outward, yellow for the return. Keith was keeping us entertained with his usual unprintable jesting, courtesy of our immense tolerance.
We passed the old railway engine and the attractive station house just before the Llangollen Canal at Bettisfield. We then turned up Knowles Lane, and left along Rowe Lane to take a peaceful, deserted dog-leg in a sea of green growth and flowering fecundity. We emerged at Balmer Heath alongside the canal. It was here that I once lost Mike the Voice and Dave Pipe who then took the wrong turning, before they eventually joined us at The Mere for lunch. This time we managed to stay together and find all the correct turns through the lush little lanes around Lyneal and Colemere in the direction of Spunhill before rolling up at The Boathouse. The food was fine, and the view across the sun- spangled water was perfect.
While we waited for lunch, I stupidly asked George how the proportional representation was going to work after the Welsh Senedd elections. If I remember rightly, George was involved with the setting up of the Welsh Assembly back in the late nineties. George’s explanation would have been too much for Laura Kuenssberg to take in never mind our puny brains. The lesson is; if you need time to eat don’t ask a mate about his Mastermind specialist subject.
After lunch we took the quiet lane, left past the cemetery, on our trundle up toward Penley. We passed Woodland Park Lodges site which is hidden in Lion Lane Wood, and which I can recommend having spent a few days there with my wife and daughter not long ago. The ride back was direct through Holly Bush, Worthenbury, Shocklach and Crewe-by-Farndon.
It was a brisk return by mod. standards, warmer and shorter than the outward ride, topped off by a wind assisted semi- sprint on the usual four or five mile stretch to Farndon led by Keith. About forty three miles covered, and probably sixty by Trevor and Keith. Great weather and great company.
DH
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