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Out of the Shadows
Paths past garden gates, those neglected places where stinging nettles and wild flowers thrive. Next to a railway line and over a stream that is obscured from view throughout town; behind the houses, buried under streets, channeled through concrete, feeding into the Ouse somewhere in the Railway Land. It’s running high and fast now…
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Seven hundred
Orange-pink cracks of light in the murky grey sky to the east contradict the weather forecast I saw the day before. This is good. If it lasts. The predicted headwind is present though. By 35km I’m cowering in a bus stop on a junction, 5km later when I spot an open café I’m wringing water…
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Reliability
From the regularity of the straight lines between the fields of the flatlands around Ripe into the twisting roller coaster of ancient ways of the High Weald. Rolling over sandstone ridges into river valleys deeply cut into the clay. Following ancient ways scratched and scraped into the soft rock by water and footfall between the…
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Turn Turn Turn
Sneaking out of and into the city in the dark and half light. Looking for gloves and the right route. Lights plugged into wall sockets and USB ports. An increased interest in the weather forecast. The rush of starlings overhead as they head for the fields. A change in wind direction. Chilled air snatching at…
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Hidden
Hidden Valley. That’s what they called it. Not everyone, just a few friends, some of the ones that ride mountain bikes. Not everyone knows about this place. Hidden Valley. It sounded mythical or far away, but it’s not, it’s on the edge of the city, right behind the houses. Though once there you feel like…
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Further
I’ve always been attracted to landscape and distance rather than speed. I watch grand tours for the helicopter shots of roads winding around mountains, along valleys and across patchwork fields as much as the actual racing. As a kid I would often go out and ride my bike all day, and it’s something that has…
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Bookends
I love a commute that initially sets off deliberately in the wrong direction and then loops almost back home some time later, before reluctantly turning for work. Between me and work there is a chunk of coast, a river valley (three if I venture west or further east before heading for the office), some woodland…
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Newhaven – Welcome to England
Rolling off the ferry at Newhaven it’s lashing down, absolute stair-rods. I get to the train station only to discover there are no trains this weekend. It may be the metal roof of the station but the rain sounds like it’s getting harder. I zip up my waterproof jacket and pull up my buff. Four…
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