Breaking new ground (again!)

Having slept for eight hours I was up with the lark and sitting downstairs in front of the computer at just gone 0600hrs writing the post that precedes this one. I went on a bit about 'stuff' and then I made the tea, jumped on a very clean bike, following yesterday's jet clean, and rode to the green where I met Andy.

Close to where we stopped for tea. Pic by Andy Smith.

Where to go? Yesterday, I had suggested riding the lanes towards Beech Farm Road, but taking a track on the left leading down to an area known as Cony Crook. It's the track that takes us down to the so-called 'stile with no purpose'. The idea was to turn right at the stile and follow the continuing off-road track towards the Cottage, stop there for tea and then continue off-road towards the 269 before heading home in the usual fashion. This we did, but when we reached the stile with no purpose we noticed that a gate giving us access to the next field was shut and there was a sign stating 'no footpath'. We'd never seen the sign before, but rather than throw our bikes over the gate and continue on our journey (which we probably could have done, there was nobody about) we turned round and followed the track back towards the stile and onwards, bearing right and travelling across a couple of large fields until we found more gates blocking our way. There was nothing left to do other than stop, have tea and then head back the way we came. Not a problem.

I found myself indulging my ridiculous sleeping rough fantasy as where we had stopped looked like the perfect place to set up camp for the night. If I was homeless, I'd definitely get myself a tent and a sleeping bag and head for the woods rather than sleep on the street and this morning I found myself surveying the woods behind where we had stopped: it was, in short, perfect. I couldn't think of anything better than waking up and hearing the birds chirping and very little else. Fortunately, of course, I'm not homeless, so it's not something that is immediately (if at all) on my agenda. Mind you, I wouldn't mind trying it for one night.

Our bikes, Sunday 13th January 2019 – pic by Andy Smith.

It was a very pleasant ride to a very pleasant place. There's nothing better than peace and quiet and nothing but the sound of birdsong. Everything was still, there wasn't a soul about, the fields were empty as far as we could see and no Lycra monkeys either (their bikes are incapable of traversing such terrain). So we leisurely drank our tea and took in our surroundings before heading back along the track that had brought us here. The wind had been behind us on the outward journey, but now it was hitting us face-on as we rode back towards Cony Crook. Looking at the map, there's a lot of paths and tracks close to where we were and one that goes through Lumberdine Wood (worth exploring). It comes out on the 269, but I think it's the same track that takes us from the 269 to the cottage, but either way Lumberdine Wood looks interesting.

What we could see as we drank our tea. Pic by Andy Smith.

Andy rode back to the green and we stopped at the garage to jet clean the bikes. Mine needed it, but not as badly as Andy's Blast. We rested the bikes against a wall and blasted them with water, getting off any excess mud, of which there was plenty. Then we said goodbye and rode our separate ways back to our respective houses. 

I got back in time for the Andrew Marr Show. It's going to be an interesting week in politics. May's Brexit deal will probably be rejected by Parliament (here's hoping!) and then there's the possibility of a general election. Either that or a second referendum.

Off-road exploration continues...

When I woke up I followed my usual routine. I know routines change, but not this one. Or rather most of the time everything remains the same. At 0600hrs the sound of birdsong. Not real birdsong, but the iPhone's bedtime app waking me up. For a short while I lie there listening to it, but then I get up and switch it off, pull on a pair of trousers of some sort and a tee-shirt and peer out of the window to check the weather. Then I head downstairs, open the kitchen door and fill the kettle with water. After switching it on I seek out the small saucepan. If I can't see it I know it's either in the sink, soaking, probably because there was rice in it the night before, or – and this is my favoured situation – it's in the dishwasher, nice and clean and ready to use. Rarely, I open the dishwasher and find it isn't done and I feel a little deflated, sometimes so much so that I simply don't bother with the ritual of making the porridge, but if it's clean I pull it out, along with a clean bowl, place the saucepan on the hob, measure out three tablespoons of porridge – normally Flahaven's multi-seeded but over the last two days sachets of Golden Syrup-flavoured oats, not ideal, but better than nothing. Today I'll go to the store to buy some more multi-seed. I pour a cup of milk with water, normally half-and-half, into the pan, switch it on and then put a tea bag into my favourite Cath Kidson mug. When the water's boiled I leave it for a minute or two and then pour it into the cup, almost to the top, and then add a drop of milk. Once this is done I take fruit from the fridge: blueberries, strawberries (quartered), grapes, raspberries and place them into a colander for washing. I put the washed fruit in the bowl followed by sliced banana and turn the porridge down to simmer and when its ready pour it over the fruit. Normally I'll add a sprinkling of sugar, but we're out of stock so a dribble of honey or, as has been the case these last two days, nothing because the porridge is flavoured. I prefer multi-seed and will buy more today.

Andy and I at our new found shelter or 'cottage'. Can't wait for snow!!!

Yesterday was cloudy, but not cold, and there was no sign of any rain. Wearing jeans and my Montreal tee-shirt I headed for the green, carrying a rucksack which contained, among other things, a heavy flask full of hot water, four teabags and some milk. We were both running late and had agreed to meet at 0745hrs instead of 15 minutes earlier and this time we both knew where we were headed: to the off-road path off the 269 to engage in some more exploration. When we reached the turn-off, Andy took a photograph of the path, which disappeared into infinity while I took a leak; that huge mug of tea goes right through me sometimes and this was one of those occasions. "Go on without me," said Andy as he busied himself with taking the shot and putting the camera, which he complained was very slow, back into a plastic bag and then into his rucksack. I pedalled off and down the hill, but waited further along the track. We pushed on, but found the path disappointing. It led us down nettle-infested narrow paths and there was plenty of grouse running around as we'd stumbled across some kind of breeding facility, complete with electric fence, chicken wire fences and feeding devices. Eventually we realised we'd come round in circles and decided to take a different path. Soon we found ourselves on the track we'd found last week and were about to head back to the 269 when Andy spotted a right turn that wound its way downhill to a small wooden shelter with a table and bench seats, an ideal spot for tea, we thought, and got on with the task of making it. The shelter was a great find. Andy's taken to calling it our 'cottage' and it does have the feel of a house, being made of wood. There's also an aluminium ladder resting in the rafters.

We chatted about all sorts, even Brexit was mentioned, before we packed away our stuff and headed back up the hill to the track that would take us to the 269. Andy hit the road and I took the off-road track and eventually we parted at the Green, vowing to be back at the usual time on Sunday.

When Sunday rolled around both of us were a little tired, or certainly feeling more sluggish than usual, so we decided to ride the fast way to the churchyard. As usual it was deserted. We broke out the tea and biscuits, although today I had a banana instead of Belvitas, and we sat there discussing the education system as well as other stuff, all in a fairly light-hearted manner.

Andy said goodbye at the Ridge and I continued down the 269, taking the off-road path all the way to Warlingham where I rejoined the road. I reached home around 0945hrs.