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around home, bikes, combe raiders, friends, GPS, MTB, UK

Combe Raiders Swanage Weekend

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For the second weekend in a row, I was off to Swanage for a riding trip.  To make a pleasant change, I had the short drive to get to a Combe Raiders ride – fifty-five miles instead of the normal hundred to Taunton.  Arriving early due to the afternoon off work, I quite happily passed time in the local bike discussing bike-packing & my next bike.

The ten others turned up in dribs & drabs; once settled into the dormitory/bunkhouse & John had dinner prepared we headed out for a quick ride before it got dark (after being told not to bring lights, I forgot to pack the small ones from my commuter).  Most of the trails in the area I was familiar with from the SSUK 2013 events of the previous weekend, although we did find a nice little descent off the other side of the golf course.  Up onto that ridge again, I had to walk about twenty metres as the headwind was gusty & it was just too much on a singlespeed.   The downhill off the ridge & back into town was just as good & is even better when someone has opened the gate on the blind corner halfway down.

I think this weekend away had been booked well before this was decided, but somewhere along the way it turned into a bit of a celebration of D’s fiftieth birthday – but perhaps that’s just what the guys with wives had to use as a reason to get away for a weekend of biking. Either way, there was special Combe Raider cider, whisky that I actually found palatable & a very enjoyable Friday night. Somehow I managed to avoid the rooms with the chronic snorers – snoring stories are much funnier the next morning when it’s not you that has been kept awake all night.

It would have been too much to expect two glorious weekends in a row – but Saturday was reasonably nice as we headed out to the lap that John, Rich & I had done last week (except they’d wizened up & brought bikes with gears – I was the only nutter left on a singlespeed).

Near the start of the ride – a pub we didn’t go in (well, I had the week before).

“If you’ve got time to hold gates open – get to the back & ride up with the stragglers.” Up the first climb – Isle of Wight just visible in background.

Rich standing in front of Swanage.

As this was the same ride as I’ve already detailed last week – just without the two-hundred odd singlespeeders – I’ll spare you the details, except I rode everything again. Normally, when riding around those with multitudes-more-gears-than-me I don’t mind getting off & walking if I have to; but this time I knew I could ride all of the big hills, so made myself do so – my knees weren’t so happy about that. We stopped in Corfe Castle because someone said there was a good bakery there – I had a great pasty & danish again. The climb up to Kingston was a bit easier this time around  & soon enough we were back at the Square & Compass – nice ale & I convinced myself I deserved another pasty. Back into town via Priest’s Way & time for ice cream by the seaside.

Come Sunday, we’d done most of the trails of note (or so we’d been told) & were looking for a slightly easier & shorter ride before the respective drives home. Somehow, it fell to me to cobble together a route using two photocopied OS maps; I’m not sure that was the best idea for those looking for a cruisy Sunday ride – after all I was riding a tank of a singlespeed (I still can’t believe how heavy it is – that had conveniently escaped my memory before I brought it back from NZ last year) & could not be thought of as taking it easy. Pleasingly for a group of eleven, we only had one mechanical for the weekend – & that was only a puncture on Sunday morning when we weren’t pressed for time. Coming off the Priest’s Way (this time riding up it) we found ourselves in the middle of a Wiggle sportive for roadies. For the next fifteen minutes we had a great time chasing down those ever-cheerful breed of cyclists that wouldn’t even smile or return a greeting as they whizzed past us. I don’t think one of them was overly impressed by being tailed by mountain-bikers – although the icing on the cake was when I managed to pass one up a hill.

I think this photo was taken to show the niceness of the countryside – very pleasant to ride through, if not as spectacular as some recent photos.

After we got over the hilarity at being sworn at by irate roadies that couldn’t handle knobbly tyres passing them, we found a descent we hadn’t done yet. Down the side of a ploughed field, where I was filled with my usual trepidation of riding parallel to barbed wire fencing, we were in between hedgerows and all of a sudden the trail got really rocky & absolute great fun. This was the part of the weekend I most wished I was riding the bike I had in Moab. We joined the main road back into Corfe Castle, joining up with the road contingent before stopping at the bakery again.

More new route took us north of Corfe Castle where we discovered a nicely wooded section filled with bluebells, other flowers & mostly-smooth fun trail. Up & over another ridge & we could see the village of the lunch-pub in the distance.

I had one more nasty surprise on the map – what turned out to be the steepest climb of the weekend.  Unfortunately, we could all see it coming – I was pretty sure that I would be walking up that as it looked like loose boulders at the bottom of a continually high gradient.  To get to it, we had a reasonable climb on the road where we passed more of our road friends again.  I was pleased to clear the whole climb – somehow I negotiated all the rocks before settling down to slowly push the pedals around & get to the top.  From the top of the ridge, we could see the weather closing in – there wasn’t much to see from the lookout, so what else to do but head to lunch in Kingston.

We finally got rained on, for the first time of the weekend (not bad going), sitting in the beer garden waiting for a delicious lunch.  The bonus of the beer garden was we (well, D – he who got sworn at) could boo every roadie that went past.  Then the road got slick & they started crashing on the corner in the village & it would have been funny if they had not needed medical attention.  With the rain set in, we took the easy fast route back to our cars in town.

So a great weekend, where the company was the highlight, the riding was good, the food & drink plentiful and I didn’t blow my knees apart – well organised John.

around home, bikes, event, GPS, MTB, UK

SSUK 2013

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Sometime ago I signed up for the returning (after a one year hiatus) national singlespeed event. I’m not really all that sure why – it was reasonably local & I think John was pleased to finally have a couple of riding buddies of the one ratio persuasion. Regardless, I pootled over to Swanage on a greyer-than-recently Saturday morning – stopping to drop off non-riding items at Mum’s cousin Pamela’s house (where I would stay for the weekend) in Poole.

The Saturday was a casual ride to have a look around the area. About a hundred like-minded nutters showed up near the Swanage pier. It’s quite odd to see so many singlespeeds on the English seafront. Singlespeeding still being relatively niche, there were all sorts of interesting & fancy bikes – a dozen or so fat bikes too. Not nearly as many singlespeed conversions (from geared mountain bikes) as I would have expected to see in NZ – I’m pretty sure the British spend so much more time & money on their bikes than Kiwis do (also bikes are more expensive in NZ) because they have so much time to do so when the weather is inclement.

We set off in one large group and after a few miles there was a vaguely organised (a continuing theme for the weekend) Le Mans start at the bottom of the very large climb (for singlespeeds at least, & most geared bikers I imagine) up to Nine Barrow Down. I struggled up, weaving in & out of all those walking & then spent ages on the ridge getting cold as the wind & drizzle came through and we waited for the stragglers & to find out where to go next. Off the ridge, there was a nice bit of trail around a golf course & then it was rather tedious fire road to the lunch stop. By the pub stop at lunch time in the sun I was a little/quite worn out from the week at work and really not in the mood to be social & to try break into well established groups of riding buddies – perhaps (probably) I was still mourning the loss of the proper challenging singletrack of two weeks prior. Also there had been talk of the event on Sunday being fifty miles (quite a distance with a solitary gear), so I thought my legs were worth saving for that effort. I had a nice lunch by the waterside and headed back to Swanage.

My unexpectedly free afternoon meant I had the chance to visit Tyneham – a village near Swanage & Corfe Castle that was forcibly evacuated in 1943 as part of the war effort and to which the residents were never allowed to return as the MoD held on to the land for use as a firing range.  Even now, it is only open to the public on certain dates of the year – that limited access took decades to gain.  It’s interesting to see a village, of sorts, in a popular tourist area that is completely untouched by the modern world – only the church & the school still stand complete, the few cottages are ruined.  It’s sobering to think of the families that lived there for generations under the protection of the local lord who all of a sudden didn’t have the only home they ever knew.

Saturday evening passed very pleasantly in Pamela’s company (my stomach was pretty happy too) & I slept well before heading back to Swanage Sunday morning.  Since I had left the previous afternoon, John & Richard (my Combe Raiders singlespeeders brothers in arms) had arrived from Somerset.  The event assembled in the same place & we took a more direct route to the start point – the pub of lunch on Saturday.  At about this stage it became apparent that we would only be doing twenty-odd miles – I was a little disappointed that I wouldn’t get to push past the distance I would normally ride & see how I’d go.

It must be noted, that even though it was a long Bank Holiday weekend, the weather was absolutely glorious.  Eventually, after noon, small groups of riders were let loose to make their way to the finish pub.  We were sick of waiting around so left reasonably early on in the piece.  It was a grassy reasonably long climb up on to the first ridge.  About halfway up it became apparent that John was going to ride a lot faster than both Rich & me, so we let him go and coming off the ridge I started to enjoy myself as I got over the shorter-distance disappointment & removal of challenge from the day.  It was back up the big hill to Nine Barrow Down – which I couldn’t let defeat me as I’d ridden it the day before.

Looking back towards Swanage while waiting for Rich

Down off the ridge in a different place, we were on the fun little bit of trail around the back of the golf course before the short climb that most had me wanting to get off & push (I didn’t). We dropped down again past dozens of ramblers out enjoying the sunshine, under the steam train & into Corfe Castle.  Rich & I had long since decided that we would stop in the village at a well-renowned bakery – it wasn’t exactly a competitive event; so we did just that and had the rather surreal experience of eating pasties & pastries in the sun-drenched historic village surrounded by scores of mountain-bikers and dozens of re-enacters dressed up as Saxons & Vikings – big helmets, chain mail and all sorts.

A quick snap of a lamppost & Corfe Castle.

A bit more climbing, with a horrid pinch climb on the tarmac, some nice trail & all of a sudden we were at the finish pub (Square & Compass – which must have the smallest bar I’ve ever seen in a pub) and it was only half past two.  Maybe I would have been able to fit fifty miles of such hills in to a day.  We basked in the sun for a while, heard John’s stories – he was one of the first to finish, not that it was much of a race – and didn’t really drink much; before long, eyes turned to the clock as John & Rich were heading back to Somerset & me to Poole.  We left before the pig on a rotating stick made an appearance & enjoyed the final descent back into Swanage along the Priest’s Way.

So not really the ride I was expecting or hoping for, but a great day out all the same. I’m not displeased that a larger group of Combe Raiders is heading back to Swanage next weekend for D’s 50th celebrations. I’d quite happily repeat that loop – hopefully the weather is just as good.

It was just as stunning a day on the Bank Holiday Monday, so after getting home late morning I could hardly waste it – I headed out into the forest to do an easy, flat recovery ride. It definitely was a flatter ride than the rest of the weekend & thankfully pretty easy too – as it turned out to be 73 km/46 miles more on the SS. Great to see so many people out enjoying the forest.

around home, bikes, engineering, history, MTB, UK, vehicles

Corfe Castle & Swanage Railway

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Somewhere reasonably local that I meant to go all summer was Corfe Castle, Swanage & the Purbecks.  Not being around for a single summer weekend kind of killed that plan, so with the sun shining brightly Saturday last I finally made the relatively short drive west past Poole.

A short leisurely walk from the Swanage Railway (more later) Park & Ride had me circling the base of the hill that the castle stands on.  Having been built by William the Conqueror, its a thousand or so years old, but was ruined during the Civil War when, as one of the last southern Royalist strongholds, it finally fell to the Parliamentarians.   As one would expect from a defensive position, the castle affords really good views of the picturesque Purbeck countryside.

With the castle such a ruin, although some of the walls still stand quite tall, there was plenty of space to wander around & explore – & avoid people, it’s quite a popular place to visit.  Apparently this is Famous Five country & the castle inspired the one on Kirrin Island – I was disappointed that I didn’t discover any dungeons, tunnels or bearded smugglers.

The other attraction around the village is the Swanage Railway that runs various steam locos down to the seaside at Swanage.  A much bigger operation than the Watercress Railway, I was surprised at just how popular it was – difficult to find a seat on one of the six carriages.  The Pullman Observation car looked pretty impressive too – alas, I didn’t have the pound coin needed to upgrade.

Down at Swanage it was time to finally visit the bikeshop I order quite a bit of stuff from – bit of a 29er, singlespeed, cargo bike haven.  I was quite surprised that they had Avanti bikes as their rentals – all the way from NZ.  Wandering down to the shore it was time for a late & large lunch – not much dinner needed that night.

Workmate Henry thought that eight o’clock on Sunday morning was a good time to meet on the other side of the Forest for a ride – he managed to choose the coldest morning of the season so far.  At least that meant it was clear again.  Driving out towards Burley in the mist from Brockenhurst I found all sorts of deer and longhorn cattle.  If it had have been a bit colder the ground may not have been so wet – however, we had a nice little pootle around before the others had to leave.

around home, history, UK

Brighton

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Last weekend I had set aside to be the first in over three months that I didn’t travel anywhere & instead stayed at home & did very little.  However, one can’t take brilliantly clear & sunny days for granted in this country. So shortly after waking up Saturday morning with no plans, I was joining that 170 year tradition of days out – a day-trip to the Brighton seaside by train.  It would seem many others had that idea as the train was crammed by the end of the two hour all-stops journey.

I headed straight for the seaside & the famous pier.  As expected, the beach is overly stoney – but it was all very pleasant with plenty of people out & about and many restaurants and cafes to choose from (many built in to the bottom, sea-side of the promenade).  West Pier has many similarities to the third Swamp Castle – disused for many years, it burnt down, fell over & (mostly) sank into the sea.

There’s a tiny museum devoted to the local fishing trade, & seaside attractions to some extent, tucked under the promenade as well – that gave me a bit of local history. With plenty more chances of food from enticing stalls, I strolled around the historic pier looking at the various funfair attractions and gazing back to the beach and further along to the white cliffs.

Hungry by now, I was easily tempted to shell out a few quid for a ride on the oldest electric railway still operating (Volks Railway) – it’s about a ten minute ride along the edge of the shore to Brighton Marina. That area started out looking rather shabby, but eventually I found plenty of restaurants beside the moorings – I just had to get past the encamped gypsies, a huge boarded up lot, an ASDA, a parking building and a McDonald’s.  Having had so much pasta & pizza recently, I was keen to give British Italian a miss & ended up in a small chain (there is one other in Newcastle) of American restaurants.  It was not over the top (so not really American in that respect), but I was well thrilled to be having a proper large burger with plenty of blue cheese, pickles, onion rings & sweet potato fries.  For a southwest touch, they even served pink lemonade; just as well I was wearing my Stetson in the bright sunshine.

The main thing I wanted to see in Brighton was the Royal Pavilion – the Prince Regent’s residence that he had built either side of the turn of the nineteenth century.  I was well prepared that it would look a little odd on the outside – it was built in the Indo-Saracenic style, a strange mix of Indian styles and those favoured in Britain at the time – Gothic & neo-Classical.

I was taken aback by the extent and the grandeur of the interior – I was not expecting such a Chinese influence.  The pavilion is the greatest example of the chinoiserie (French – Chinese-esque) style in Britain.  With large dragons, palm leaves & all manner of other Chinese decorations, it really was quite something.  Unfortunately, no photos inside – so an image search will have to satisfy any curiosity you may have.

I had a bit more time to wander the extremely narrow-streeted Lanes area, there are many curious looking shops – with a big student population and being the foremost LGBT centre in the UK, it does have quite a different feel to the place than most old towns & small cities in the country.

Back home at a reasonable hour, the next day I headed out for my first mountain-bike club ride in six or seven months.  Pretty flat out on the other side of the Forest, it was pleasing to have more than half of the fast group riding singlespeed.  I may need to get a smaller cog at the back as I was frequently spinning out on the flat sections & struggling to keep up – 32:16 is very achievable around here, in fact 32:18 borders on the silly.  Still, I’ve only just started singlespeeding again, so at least I didn’t have to push up the hills.