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| Flytippers visit Hesiers Hill |
It was good to get two rides in. Both involved Beddlestead Lane, which is always a bit of a chore, but it was a good weekend of cycling and the weather held out too.
On Saturday I was running a little late and when I reached the green we decided to head to the churchyard. It was a fairly average ride, nothing untoward occurred (when does it?). Although, when we reached Hesiers Hill it was disheartening to notice that the fly tippers had been out dumping their rubbish on the road. We stopped, but not for long, and soon we were pedalling hard towards Clarks Lane. I can't say I'm a fan of Beddlestead, but it's a good work-out so it can't be that bad.
When we reached the churchyard we did what we always do: drink tea and chat about this and that. We rode back up the hill towards Botley and parted company at the Ridge.
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On Sunday we set up 'camp' close to an adjoining field and the nettle-infested path from which
we had just emerged - unscathed! Pic by Andy Smith. |
On Sunday we thought we'd visit 'the field', the one that's just across the road from the Tatsfield Bus Stop. The last time we were there was roughly a year ago when the field was full of corn and the sun shone brightly. Perhaps it was earlier in the month, I don't know, but there was no corn, just grass, and it was wet. We entered the field from White Lane because Andy said the path from the other side was overgrown with nettles and thistles (he was right). It took a while to find the path (the North Downs Way) but when we did there was a short ride under tree cover towards a gate and that meant we'd have to manhandle the bikes. Andy suggested lifting them on to their rear wheels, which seemed to do the trick, and once we were both through we decided to get to the churchyard to drink our tea. Between us and our destination, however, were plenty of thistles and nettles. Andy was ahead of me, but suddenly I found him standing still in front of me. "It's thick with nettles, we'll get stung to buggery in our shorts!"I was wearing my camouflage shorts that I had purchased in Miami in 2007*, they're a bit baggy and I wouldn't even think about going commando. Andy might not have used the word 'buggery', in fact I'm sure he didn't, but it seems to express the way he was thinking perfectly. Shorts are not ideal where nettles and thistles are concerned, although I discovered recently that a nettle's sting can penetrate through long trousers, so there's no way out. Andy was prepared to go back the way we'd come and to be fair, I thought we might have to as I looked over his shoulder at what awaited us, but it was worth a try I thought. "I reckon we can do it," I said, taking the lead and employing the bike as some kind of battering ram to flatten the nettles on my left while steering clear of the nettles on my right. It worked and soon I found myself close to the roadside next to an old tree trunk. Andy followed and I don't think either of us were stung. Our decision to advance to the churchyard was based on the heavy dew that hung over the field. There was nowhere to sit down.
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The field was damp so we battled with nettles to find a place for tea.
We had just emerged from those woods you can see across the field |
"We might as well have our tea here," I said, pointing to the tree trunk. Andy agreed so I pulled out the flask and the teabags and milk.
"I don't understand why nettles exist," I said. "I know everything has a meaning, a purpose, but I can't see the purpose of stinging nettles."
"Ladybirds like them, apparently; they lay their eggs on them; you would have thought they'd find other plants," Andy said, slightly flustered about the whole situation.
"Bastards," I added, or I should have, perhaps I did, I can't remember.
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| Further along, loads of nettles... |
Last year the field was full of corn, this year it was just grass. "I think it's what they call crop rotation," I said and Andy was reminded of school. "I remember learning that," he said, and so did I.
"What about oxbow lakes?" I said.
"I remember those too," he replied.
"I've seen one from the train, somewhere near Northampton," I said, like the geek I was. Actually, I'm not a geek.
It was time to head back up the hill towards Botley again. As we passed the dew-laden field on our left, Andy spotted a metal gate. "We should have lifted our bikes over that gate," he said, but it was too late now. Perhaps if we'd seen the gate we might have ended up in the churchyard, but one thing was for sure: a lesson had been learned. No more field unless we could be guaranteed it would be dry, but either way there was still the hassles of humping our bikes over the gates, and who can be bothered to lift the bikes? Not us!
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| We were on the North Downs Way... |
We parted again at the Ridge, pledging to be back on the bikes next week. The rides back along the 269 on both days were quiet, not much in the way of traffic, which was good. The weather was good too, warm and bright, but not much in the way of blue sky and sunshine.
There's been two mass shootings in the USA, one in El Paso, Texas, in a Walmart where 20 were killed and 26 injured. It's being classed as a hate crime (surely, that's obvious). Not sure about the second shooting, but it took place in a bar on East 5th Street called Ned Peppers in Dayton City, Ohio, in the Oregon district of the town and nine people were killed.
In other news... Iran has seized another tanker and Boris Johnson is pledging £1.8 billion for hospital upgrading, except that nobody believes him. Time will tell.
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| Andy arriving at Warlingham Green... |
* I visited Miami in 2007 to attend SNAXPO, a conference and exposition about the snacks industry in the USA. I was staying on North Hollywood beach in a hotel that was yards from the sea and was with a colleague, Nick Thorp, who would later join Andy and I on one of the Black Horse bike rides.
