cycling
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Messing about on the river (and the canals)
Watching an upside down world pass by on my left, the sky below me, heading to the south west skirmishes of London. The eastern end of a canal I rode along as a kid. A startled heron flaps away low across the water. “No Fishing”. The way temporarily blocked a feeding family of geese. Houseboats…
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Winding On
An old point and shoot, one roll of film. A week off work. Aeroplane mode, wider world switched off. Perhaps an audiobook in one ear. The sun stays close to the wide crisp horizon, bright light skims the surface of the sea followed by my eyes. Low waves lazily sparkle and ripple towards the shingle.…
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The Straightest Line
…within a few minutes Cal and I had formed a plan. Route plotting was pretty simple. Stane Street, a Roman road is traced in its entirety on Ordnance Survey maps. It’s pretty much entirely straight so any missing bits can be guessed at. Utilising considerable engineering skills the romans built this road almost 2000 years…
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The Old Ways and New Ways
Jump on a train west to Chichester to make the most of the forecast weather. Head for home with the wind on my back and scudding clouds and an intermittent shadow for company, looking for a route with as little tarmac as possible rather than the shortest way. Out of the city on back streets…
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From the South Downs to North London
Saturday – Rule 5 Bikes Summer Send Off Meet up with friends at Freedom Bikes, sign on and collect brevet card…and a pen, as usual I’ve forgotten to bring one. There’s a lot of dithering in the street after the pre-ride briefing inside the shop (didn’t listen, sorry Paul, assume it was the usual “Don’t…
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Tour de Causse
Damn, my ears are cold. Freezing fog in the valley, ice forms on the brake levers. Skittery tyres in the corners… pssht, let a little bit of air out. Wheels feel more settled. The cold damp air mutes the clangs of sheep’s bells beyond an elderly stone wall. The fog thins gradually up the hillside, a…
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24 Hour Partir People
I can see the sea from the front door so heading south on the bike is not possible. I can choose any combination of east, west, north, but nothing to the south, that way is very wet and out of bounds. Or that would be the case if there wasn’t a ferry port a little…
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Armistice Day 200
After storms on the south coast and a rough crossing we rumble down the ferry ramp into France in calm, dry weather. It’s really early, a bit after 4am local time, body clocks on 3am and barely a handful of hours of sleep. Rather than heading straight onto the road we nip into the port…
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Newhaven to Nyhavn
SATURDAY The smell of baking bread wafts through the air as I climb the hill away from the ferry. The streets are still and quiet. Beyond the light pollution stars prickle the black sky. The air smells of recently ploughed earth and the sound from wind turbines overhead accentuate the strength of the wind. For…









