There are sliding cars and potential disasters
As with most of the UK at the moment, we in Bristol have been snowed-in, then iced-in. Driving in the un-treated backstreets of the city is, erm, interesting. Cycling even more so. I’ve done both today. However, any minor near misses I had are as nothing compared to this little incident in the Totterdown area of the city. Let’s hope the ropes continue to hold…
Posted on Friday, 8 January 2010 by Paul | Posted in bicycles | Comments Off
Church + Bicycles: the ultimate fusion
Respect to Nadia Bolz-Weber and the House for All Sinners and Saints: they’re running the “1st Annual Blessing of the Bicycles” in Denver on Sunday 17th May. Details are here.
Posted on Friday, 8 May 2009 by Paul | Posted in altworship,bicycles,emerging church | 1 comment
Cycling San Francisco
Caroline and I hired bikes. It is, unfortunately, the only way to get on a bike when you’re thousands of miles from home and your own machine. And biking a city is the best way of understanding its geography and, therefore, a key element to its personality. But hire bikes are pretty much the same the world over: over-used, on the way to an early death, under-maintained and poorly-spec-ed in the first place. You have to take this as a given and realise that you’re going to be only a small part as fast and efficient as you would be on one of your own bikes.
We crossed the Golden Gate Bridge with the intention of cycling the Marin headlands, but the fog (which pours through the GG at this time of the year) got us, so we turned around and headed back to the SF side. The bridge authorities, for reasons best known to themselves, only open the second cycle/pedestrian track at certain times. When this is shut, as it was for us, too many pedestrians (who keep walking three abreast and suddenly stopping to take photos) are squeezed in with too many cyclists. So it’s a slow route. The full span of the bridge (2737m) felt to me to be somewhat less than the Severn Bridge (1600m) which is weird. I can only think that it was because of the amount of people on it and the fact that the two headlands that it joins hem it in more than the flatlands either side of the Severn – and the fact that the Severn Bridge is followed immediately by the Wye Bridge (408m) making the total length on bridge to be only 737m less. Size and scale are hard to be objective about without a measuring tape, but I feel the Severn is more majestic somehow. However, that is not to belittle the amazing engineering feat the the Golden Gate bridge represents, built 30 years before its British cousin. To me it looks a heavier construction than the Severn, needing double vertical cables to hold its weight.
Once we got to the other side of the Golden Gate, we saw the fog which had enveloped the Marin Headlands and turned straight around. Once we’d crossed the bridge again, we headed out over the Presidio to the beaches on that side, thence to Golden Gate park. We took the streets back home. San Francisco is much nicer to cycle around than Bristol. The Amercican road grid system gives cyclists the option of picking lesser roads, that don’t have the right of way at junctions, and so consequently have less traffic. We had to negotiate one big SF hill – and then it was downhill all the way back to the bike hire place. All in all, I think San Francisco is a great city for cycling.
Posted on Thursday, 21 August 2008 by Paul | Posted in bicycles | Comments Off
Bristol-Bath Cyclepath: relief and hope, or false dawn?
The BBC is reporting a change of heart by the councillor who was pushing the idea of converting the wonderful, first-of-its-kind Bristol-to-Bath Cyclepath to dual-use as a bus lane. You can get the story here. If they’re right, the idea is dead in the water, with a face-saving climb-down for Councillor Mark Bradshaw after seeing a similar bus scheme in Cambridge (and also implying that he’d never actually looked at the width of the required route – yes, right…)
However, last time the BBC reported on this story, they gave the false impression that the council had done an about-face, when in fact it hadn’t. So I’m not opening the champagne until I hear confirmation from Sustrans and CTC. But here’s hoping that, this time, the Beeb have got the facts right.
Posted on Monday, 2 June 2008 by Paul | Posted in bicycles,ecology,rotten boroughs | 1 comment
Rapid Bus transport scheme and the Bristol to Bath cycle route
Many in Bristol will be aware of the worrying draft plan to convert the Bristol end of the Bristol-Bath cyclepath into shared use with a Rapid Bus Transport scheme. Over 9000 people have signed a petition against the idea, and tomorrow there is a celebration of the path for walkers and cyclists, to indicate how precious a part of Bristol this is.
The BBC today have posted a news items called “Bus Lane Scheme hits buffers“, indicating that Mark Bradshaw, Executive Member for Access and Environment, has said that it would now “be focusing on other priorities”. However, in his video statement, he appears to say no such thing: he refuses to rule out consideration of the plan as part of the whole consultation process, so I don’t really see what has changed. I’m hoping that lots of people show up in support of leaving the path exactly as it is …
You can see Cllr Bradshaw’s statement here …
Posted on Saturday, 29 March 2008 by Paul | Posted in bicycles,ecology,politics,rotten boroughs | Comments Off
Postman Pat gets all evangelistic
This is a little gem for anyone who grew up with the 1980s subcultures of British children’s TV and the Charismatic Movement (actually, I sometimes get a bit confused in my memory of which one was which …)
Posted on Thursday, 6 March 2008 by Paul | Posted in bicycles,humour | 1 comment
Bara Brith
Tracey’s comment on the last post raised the question of a recipie for Bara Brith (“Speckled Bread”). Here’s one:
Bara Brith (Translation: “speckled bread” or “carbohydrate intake for lunatic cyclists overdoing it across the Welsh hills”)
Soak 10oz. mixed dried fruit in 2 cups hot tea, cover and let stand overnight.
Strain the fruit, saving the liquid. Add 3 oz. brown sugar, grated rind of a lemon, 1 ¼ teaspoons pumpkin spice (or any mixture of cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, allspice), 1 egg and 12oz. self-rising flour to the fruit.
Add the liquid a bit at a time until the batter is of soft, dropping consistency. Pour into a greased brown paper lined 2lb. loaf pan and bake at 350F for 45-55 minutes until firm to the touch.
From: http://www.britainexpress.com/articles/Food/bara-brith.htm
The only variable in the above would be to watch the time and temperature of the oven. Bara brith should be a moist loaf. Some online recipies suggest adding yeast. Don’t. It’s not meant to be a risen form of bread. To serve, slice and spread thinly with soft butter. Wash down with a mug of strong tea.
Another recipie with slightly different ingredients and quantities can be found at:
http://www.bola.biz/personal/bara.html
UPDATE:
Gwynneth, who, being Welsh, should know, has submitted the following recipie via the comments. She writes:
“I fear there may be a regional divide in the yes/no to yeast in Bara brith. I will however let you have an ancient farmers recipe from North Wales!
“Sift 14oz of plain flour with 2 teaspoons of baking powder. Rub into that, 4 oz butter, then add 8oz of sugar,1 0z of candied peel,8 oz of currants, 4 oz each of sultanas and raisins. Mix together with 1/2 pint of soured milk.Pour into a lined 2lb bread tin and bake for 1 hour at 180, then for a further hour at 170- however frequent testing may be required due to the efficiency of fan ovens! The most important bit- Keep well wrapped for TWO days, hidden from hungry farmers and cyclists!
“I have had quite a few debates with fellow dragons as to the recipe of bara brith.”
Posted on Monday, 24 September 2007 by Paul | Posted in bicycles | 6 comments
After the bike ride
It’s been another year when I’ve had the opportunity to take a series of days on the bicycle. Choosing the route is always something of a challenge, as I like to stay in Youth Hostels, so you have to go by their availability. I toyed with another trip up North, but didn’t want to retrace my steps of the journey I made 18 months ago – that would have entailed a return rail trip and the combination of hostel booking plus rail booking was going to take a while to organize. The other option was a trip out across to East Anglia, which is a place I don’t know very well. However, the hostel availability looked a bit dodgy with that route.
So in the end, I decided to do Mid-Wales. I had only five days to play with, so this is what I did:
Day 1: On my beloved 531-framed tourer, loaded to about 10-times its weight with luggage, I headed north out of Bristol at midday, across the old Severn Bridge, through Chepstow, Tutshill, into the Forest of Dean, working my way as far as Lower Lydbrook. Across the abandoned rail bridge, a push along the Wye river footpath, I arrived at Welsh Bicknor youth hostel. The hostel is a lovely, traditional one – many have been updated and look very 21st century, but this one retained some of the utilitarian qualities I remember from when I used to hostel in my teens. The location is fantastic for anyone who enjoys walking or canoeing, sitting as it does by the river Wye and on the Wye Valley Way. The self-catering “members’ kitchen” was basic but they had a microwave for me to do a ready-meal I’d bought in the local village shop. It was too far to walk to the pub, so with a mug of tea I settled into a book on Fungi (I only read these kind of books in Youth Hostels). Total distance: 37 miles.
Day 2: I followed winding lanes north on undulating valleys and hills around the main Wye flood plain. Near Llangarron I was astonished to hear the most unusual booming/popping sounding near a valley stream. Then the bird making it was disturbed by the sound of my wheel scraping against the gravel as I braked to stop to get another listen. I’ve never seen a Bittern before and they’re supposed to only be found in the eastern part of the country, but the bird I was like the pictures I’ve seen since, so I think it could have been one. If it wasn’t, it sure was making a weird noise. (And, no, I had not been trying out unusual mushrooms I’d read about the night before.) By lunch I had cycled into the Golden Valley in Herefordshire, taking the B-class road going through it. I normally avoid even the B-roads on my bike, but this one was reasonably quiet that Tuesday. The Golden Valley is supposed to have been the inspiration behind C S Lewis’ Narnia. At the top of the valley, I crossed the Wye (again) on an old toll bridge (cycles had a toll fee of 5p). Then it was up some difficult undulating hills to my next stop at Kington. I’d never visited the town before, and it’s an absolute gem. A traditional High Street, with real butchers (two!), greengrocers, a greasy-spoon cafe, and so on. The hostel was very plush inside, and just along the road was a pub serving the output of its own micro-brewery and some excellent cooking in the restaurant around the back. I couldn’t have wished for a better meal at the end of my first full day’s cycling. Total mileage: 47 miles.
Day 3: I was somewhat daunted by this one, because I knew that I had to cycle through the hills of Mid-Wales to end up at some very isolated YHA bunkhouse called Dolgoch. I had no idea what effect the hills would have on my progress and I also wondered about how long I’d be able to keep on with it. Nevertheless, I’d have been in a bit of a pickle if I’d got to the point when I could go no further, some 10 miles short of my destination, in the middle of nowhere. By way of addressing these issues, I’d take a few precautions:
- Spend two days of moderate cycling before a hard day. This had toned me up a bit. I also am very cautious about keeping in a low gear unless there’s really a lot of gravity working in my favour. For a start, on a long trip you simply burn out quicker trying to be macho using high gears, and also it minimizes the likelihood of inflaming any joints, which could otherwise have ruined the trip.
- Made sure that I had eaten both a good meal that evening to recharge the fuel stocks and also a good cooked breakfast in the morning. I also took a very good pack lunch with me that day.
Well the hills started for real that day with a climb up Hergest Ridge (middle-aged hippies will remember that it was the title of Mike Oldfield’s second album, recorded while he lived in the area), then after some low-lying undulations, a further climb up over some real Welsh hills before dropping down to Newbridge on Wye and lunch. I then took a back-road following the mountain foot around to Beulah, which sat at the base of a valley road through Abergwesyn which on the map looked like it was going to be the highest part of the journey. The fact that it was a valley road worked in my favour as the lane gradually and steadily climbed in height. Halfway up was a mountain biking centre with – joy! – its own cafe serving a pot of tea and bara brith. Then it was back on the bike for the rest of the valley. If the climb up the valley had been kind and steady, it had a sting in its tail in the shape of “The Devil’s Staircase”: a 1-in-4 monster of a switchback, which once formed one of the more demanding sections of the Milk Race (which last ran in 1993). In my case, with heavy panniers at the end of the day, the Devil won easily and I pushed.
A short run over the moorland at the top and I found myself powering down into the isolated valley and Dolgoch Bunkhouse. There are only two buildings left in the valley, one being the bunkhouse. Documents in the bunkhouse told the sad story: until just after the War, it had been populated by sheep farmers who had lived a harsh but traditional life there in a series of farms and cottages. However, in 1947 the severest winter in living memory hit, freezing flocks to death in the fields in an almighty blizzard, cutting the valley off for three months. Afterwards, the local economy was ruined and one-by-one, the families moved out, selling their land off to the Forestry Commission.
Dolgoch Bunkhouse is no longer owned by the YHA, but by a private Trust which seeks to keep it open in all its wonderful, isolated primitiveness. There was no electricity and the gas shower was temperamental. The water was taken from a stream so had to be boiled before drinking. I had wondered on the journey up the valley who on earth would be there to let me in. The answer was a volunteer warden and her walking companion who were doing a week-long stint in the place. I had only the sketchiest ingredients for an evening meal with me, but they very kindly invited me to help them finish off their vegetable stir-fry and finish off a bottle of red wine. So with only gas light, a blazing fire and good company, it was a wonderful night’s stay surrounded by miles of uninhabited emptiness. Sadly, the sky that night was cloudy as it would have been an amazing place for stargazing. Total mileage: 54 miles (less than I’d anticipated).
The following day began rather like the previous one had ended – with a steep climb. After a bit things settled down across some high ground and some wonderful views. Just when I thought I was miles from anywhere, I came across the loneliest phone box in the world – about 10 miles from the nearest settlement. With no mobile signal for miles around, this could be a lifesaver for a stranded motorist – or even cyclist. Then it was a steady descent to Tregaron. After about 24 hours of isolation in the mountains, it was a shock to find myself back in a place with banks, a post office, shops, even an ATM. I felt like I’d landed back on earth after a trip to some isolated planet.
The rest of the day it was a case of following the Teifi valley to the sea. I loosely followed Sustrans Route 82, but avoided some of its forays into backroads and unnecessary climbing/descending. The valley road passes through “the little village of Llanddewi Brefi”, and although I didn’t meet Dafydd, I did explore its historic church which has direct links to a foundation by St David in the 7th century. Lunch in Lampeter was followed by a second leg which turned out to be far longer that I’d reckoned. The hostel in Poppit Sands is up on the headland and I arrived at my westernmost point – the Irish Sea – very tired indeed. This was probably due to the fact that I had not been able to eat a hearty, multi-course meal the night before – I was very hungry so a trip to the local pub was a must once I’d showered off. Day’s mileage: 67 miles.
Day 5. The people in the pub the night before had looked at me like I’d completely lost my marbles when I mentioned that today I was going to cycle to Swansea and I was so tired that I had started to wonder about the practicality of it myself. I’d worked it out that I’d have to back-track about 10 miles up the Teifi valley before taking a small road going south up a tributary valley which looked like it would be one of those steady climbs which wouldn’t waste energy going up and down unnecessarily. As I settled into the day’s journey, a worrying, non-rhythmic ‘click’ sound which the bike had started to make two days before became more bothersome. The route up the valley proved a sound one, but the click became more worryingly regular. As I peddled along I was racking my brains to work out what was causing it. Bikes make a variety of noises, and the more regular ones are the easiest to diagnose – the sound of a dodgy bottom-bracket sounds like a clunk with each turn of the peddles. The sound of a chain problem likewise recurs with each revolution of the chain. But irregular clicks are harder. I once had a similar erratic click which turned out to be the loosening of the fixing of the saddle. I had already checked all bolts on the machine the previous day and it seemed to disappear on its own. But now it was back with a vengeance. I was worried.
The weather throughout the week had been excellent for cycling – dry, not too hot, no wind. But Friday had begun with a gloomy drizzle and as I steadily climbed upwards, the clicking was definitely getting worse. Eventually, in the damp gloom I checked the wheels – normally the back wheel gives most problems on a bike, but this time it was the front: an irregular clicking as it rotated when I lifted it free of the ground. I removed the wheel and held it in its axle. A nasty grinding noise was apparent. The bearing was dry! I had no grease, so I loosened off the spindle bolts a bit, then poured in liquid wax chain lubricant and tightened the bolts up as much as I’d dare. The wheel play was greater, but the noise had gone. I reckoned that provided I kept adding more chain lube throughout the day, I’d be OK to Swansea. It was a risk, but worth it – and anyway, I was in the middle of nowhere, with few options.
Fortunes almost immediately turned: the weather got drier, the bike seemed to be happy again and I levelled off onto high ground. By now I knew I’d joined the Sustrans Route 47, Trelech to Carmarthen which bounced over the Preselis before dropping down the side of the Tywi valley into Carmarthen. I arrived at 1pm feeling OK and ate a very nice panini. The influence of the Welsh language is very geographical in Wales: after passing through mid-Wales on Wednesday, from arriving in Tregaron westward it was wall-to-wall Welsh-speaking and I had even ordered coffees in my rusty Welsh in order to honour the local language. However, despite Carmarthenshire still being mainly Welsh-speaking in the countryside, Carmarthen itself seemed more mixed English/Welsh. From there onwards I knew it was back to English being increasingly the primary language, which by Swansea it certainly is.
After lunch I experienced another highlight of the week: following part of Sustrans Route 4 along the South Wales coastline from Ferryside to Llanelli. The most spectacular part of this was from Burry Port through to Penclacwydd, which passed along a beautifully surfaced cycletrack forming part of the Millennium Way. The sun was low in the sky, sillouetting the high ground of Gower and the Bristol Channel. This part of the coast had been a blighted industrial wasteland when I was growing up, but now it’s a beautiful place of views, breeze and fresh air which must have enhanced life in Llanelli considerably. More coffee and bara brith at a very trendy visitors’ centre before starting the final leg, passing down the old railway line through the Clyne Valley to Swansea Bay. This was known territory: I used to play in the valley when I was young, before they ever thought of converting the abandoned railway line to a cycle track. So my journey ended in the curious familiarity of the woods where I built dens and played games as a child. Total mileage: 76 miles.
Posted on Sunday, 23 September 2007 by Paul | Posted in bicycles | 4 comments
Experiences and Discoveries over Christmas
Life was more frantic than usual over the Christmas period this year, so a break from blogging was needed. Now is the time to list the highlights, if only for my own memory. So, in no particular order:
The Foundation Solstice Walk – where Ellen and Mark arranged an amazing walk in the dark through the grounds of Blaise Castle, up to one of the local ancient hill-forts which are surprisingly common around the Bristol area. Then back for some lovely food and conversation.
Going for a 30-mile cycle ride with Caroline (my daughter). Over the past year, we’ve got into a habit of doing one of these from time to time. Last week we did a well-known circuit across the Avon gorge, across and down to the Gordano valley, then to Clevedon. Then back around the back of Nailsea, up onto the ridge by Bristol Airport, then through back roads to Ashton Court for the final climb to the Suspension Bridge. I was worried that a niggling injury I have been nursing in my left knee would play up, but with a little help from religious anti-inflammatory-popping, the exercise passed off without incident.
Richard and Tracey‘s marvellous new year’s eve party, when I rediscovered what happens when you mix a lot of wine with some 30 year old port then champagne and finally wash the whole lot down with a single malt. The next day, Sharon and I went on a hangover walk on Offa’s Dyke.
The biggest laugh over Christmas was watching the penultimate episode of The Vicar of Dibley.
The biggest discovery over Christmas is how much I love The Boards of Canada – I was given Music has the right to children for Christmas.
The biggest relaxation came from re-reading Neal Stephenson’s Cryptonomicon, which I first read in 2000. Since reading the whole Baroque Cycle over the past two years, I was astonished at how much the first novel anticipated most of the huge magnum opus which was to follow. Mr Stephenson, you get my respect award for the season. You have been my prized literature for 2006. Thank you.
Posted on Tuesday, 2 January 2007 by Paul | Posted in bicycles | 3 comments
Lizzie’s lightbox
Lizzie Everard’s blog is a delight. She’s a cyclist blogger (cycloblogger?) too.
Posted on Wednesday, 15 November 2006 by Paul | Posted in bicycles,spirituality | Comments Off
