The Woodland Trek

At the top of Croham Hurst in South Croydon on the Woodland Trek

Another sweltering hot day so I took off at 1825hrs on a woodland trek, my half streets/half woods cycle that takes in some pretty hefty hills, especially one big off-road hill to the top of the woods. It took about an hour in total, including a little rest period at the top of the woods.

To the Tatsfield Bus Stop – and I missed a soaking

The Tatsfield Bus Stop, Sunday 18 July 2010.

Well, I didn't miss a soaking, in the sense that I longed for one, but didn't get one; I was sitting at home, early in the morning, looking out of the window and, lo and behold, it was raining outside. This was just gone 8 o'clock as I was contemplating a cycle. Surely rain wouldn't stop play, I thought, but it was tipping it down.

And then it stopped and I figured it was the summer so if it started again, it would do me no harm, ie, I wouldn't be cold and wet (just wet) so off I went wondering which route to take. Woodmansterne was out and I didn't fancy retracing yesterday's route so I headed for the Tatsfield Bus Stop.

Andy was working today so I was on my own again, but pleased that I was motivated enough to get out alone, even if the bus stop was a little bit lonely. I sat there playing with my iphone – I sent Andy a pic and he later replied, asking whether I'd been flipping teabags. The answer was no as I didn't bring the tea with me – I couldn't possibly drink a whole litre of the stuff.

Watched a few 'lycra clad' racing bikes whizz down the hill towards Westerham (one bloke was on the phone, what a cock!) but then it was time to head home – the fast way.

Down Beddlestead Lane and up Hesiers Hill

Here's a shot of me at the bottom of Hesiers Hill today.

Cycling alone today as Andy was out late with the Saturdays and Gwen Stefani. I think they all ended up in David's hot tub, but it meant a text from Andy some time around midnight saying he had a late one and wouldn't be going.

I decided it was too nice a day not to go and left the house around 0730. At one stage I considered Woodmansterne Green but remembered how boring the ride was and didn't bother. I headed towards Warlingham Green, weirdly expecting to see Andy, but, of course, he wasn't there. I headed on up the B269 towards Botley Hill (I found out during the week that the man who used to own the Botley Hill Farm pub, John Watkiss, sadly died. By chance I met one of the old barmaids from the Watkiss era when Anthony Robinson was the chef – he now runs a pub in Oxfordshire somewhere (or he did the last time I had contact with him).

I stopped off at the bottom of Hesiers Hill to take some photographs and then cycled along what I thought was Ledgers Road but turned out to be Beech Farm Road. I should have turned right down Washpond Lane and then I'd have found Ledgers Road, but it didn't matter.

Anyway, that's it for today's post.

The Lymestone Brewery – it brews some excellent cask ale...

I was fortunate enough recently to enjoy a pint of Stone Cutter in a Wetherspoon pub in Highbury & Islington. The beer was simply the best I've tasted in a while so I nipped up to Stone in Staffordshire where the Lymestone Brewery is based and met the founder, proprietor and brewer, Ian 'Brad' Bradford, an excellent chap.

Ian Bradford's Kona Blast.

Beer is not really a part of this website, which is all about cycling, but mention has to be made (and a plug given) to the Lymestone Brewery for just being such a great place with a good vibe selling some excellent cask ales.

If you want to check out the brewery, I suggest you click here

The photograph is of Ian's Kona Blast – he cycles around 10km to work most mornings.

A 'new' cycling circuit...(ish) – July 10th and 11th

Andy wasn't going cycling on Saturday and with Jon on holiday in Portugal, it was down to me to get off my sorry arse and get moving. Motivation, that's the key, and I didn't have any; instead, it was the hot weather that forced me out of bed nice and early...only to find me lounging around the house at nearly 0800hrs wondering what route to take.

Looking up Hesiers Hill from the bottom, Saturday 10 July 2010.

I decided to head out for Botley Hill, go round the mini roundabout and return home, possibly stopping off at the Village Café on Warlingham Green and then returning home. Except that, half way along, I decided to do something different. Yes, I'd go to Botley, the fast way, and head down towards the Tatsfield Bus Stop but instead of reaching our wooden shelter (very handy in the rain and snow) I took the road to Beddlestead, wherever that is, and followed the road downhill while thinking to myself – as the hill went on and on and on – that, at some point there would be payback in the shape of a huge hill.

A pleasant-looking field on Beddlestead Lane, Saturday 10 July 2010.

The weather was fantastic and when I reached the bottom of the hill I stopped and listened to a field of sheep. Baa! Baa! Baa! Or words to that effect. I took a few photographs. What was really nice was the peace and quiet; nothing but the sound of the sheep, and rolling fields on either side.

Photographs taken I headed on up the hill (not too bad, but quite tough on a hot day, it has to be said). Once at the top I turned left and then immediate right, followed the road for a few yards before turning into Church Lane and basically following that road towards Warlingham Sainsbury's.

Looking at a map of the area, the long downhill stretch was Beddlestead Lane followed by the steep Hesiers Hill and then a short stretch of Fairchildes Lane before turning right into Church Lane. Church Lane then crosses Ledgers Road and becomes Chelsham Common Road and then the Chelsham Road towards Warlingham Sainsbury's and, of course, a right turn on to the Limpsfield Road (B269) and home.

Incidentally, had I followed Fairchildes Lane a little further, I would have stumbled across the White Bear, a nice little pub offering decent food and a barbecue when its hot. I had dinner there on Sunday evening accompanied by a pint of Harvey's – very nice! Click here for more details.

Yours truly (left) and Andy at the bottom of Hesiers Hill, Sunday 11 July 2010

Actually, looking at the map, there's some interesting routes that would make decent cycling circuits and I've noticed a off-road path called Railpit Lane.

Sunday and Andy was back. I had to cut it short due to family commitment but we re-traced my route, stopped and took some photographs at the bottom of Hesiers Hill and then carried on towards home.

A photo from the archive....

My Kona on the hill outside of Westerham
in Kent, back in November 2006.

Andy found this rather excellent shot of my Kona Scrap from back in November 2006, the year we both started cycling regularly. Note that the original saddle is still in place and that the reflectors on both wheels are still gleaming.

The shot was taken towards the top of the hill just outside of Westerham at a time when Andy and I were cycling to Westerham on Saturdays and Sundays every weekend and probably a little earlier than we leave today, but only by half an hour. It would have been pitch black at 7am when we met along the B269 during the winter months and I know for a fact that Andy's ride through the rural lanes to meet me was a little scary.

Photo credit: Andy Smith

Saturday and Sunday (3/4 July) – to Merstham for tea and toast, and the Tatsfield Bus Stop

Yours truly and Andy at the Tilburstow Hill car park, Saturday

Hot weather. Too hot in many ways, but who's complaining? Not me. Right now, for instance, it's 0451hrs and I've been awake since around 0400 and have decided to come downstairs and write this blogpost. There's nothing better that decent weather where cycling is concerned.

On Saturday, Andy and I set out for Merstham and Hunger's End where we enjoyed tea and toast and a general chinwag. Jon couldn't join us this weekend. There was some kind of summer fayre going on in Merstham's Quality Street – how about that, a street named after a box of chocolates! It was all very quaint and very English and there was a song playing, 'Let Your Yeah be Yeah and Your No be No'. All the way home up Markedge Lane I couldn't get it out of my mind and, when nobody was about, I sang it out loud to take my mind off the hill. But who the hell performed it? All weekend it bugged me. I thought it was Johnny Nash (he of There are more questions than answers...and the more I find out, the less I know) but I don't know; in fact I've yet to find the answer, hold on, I'll check on Google...I was right, it was Johnny Nash!

The Quality Street Fayre in Merstham on Saturday 3 July

On Sunday we did a short run to the Tatsfield bus stop as we were both feeling a little tired due to the weather.

I realised how heavy my thermos flask can be when filled up with water, but, as we sipped tea and flipped our teabags on to the grassy space in front of the bus stop – it's a game we play – I forgot about it, and besides, the more tea we drank, the lighter it became. The tea bag game is simple: the idea is to see how far we can flip a teabag using a small teaspoon. The furthest distance wins. Very sad, but teabags are biodegradable so who cares?

In the heat of the Sunday morning sun – the Tatsfield Bus Stop

What could have been a comedy moment was when a woman from Tatsfield village turned up to place a noticeboard on the grassy space advertising a display of local artists in the village hall. Had she arrived moments earlier than she did, she might well have been hit with a warm, wet, teabag.

We cycled back along the B269 and parted company at the Good Companions pub at Hamsey. A good weekend's cycling.

This is the best of rock music today – click link to watch and listen...

Plastic Beach by Gorillaz - check out Stylo, it's brilliant or
as a sticker in the rear screen of a car screamed, Gorriliant.

Gorillaz – what a great band. Check out this amazing video of the best band around at the moment. Click here and enjoy!

Images from the weekend's cycling

I arrived early on Warlingham Green on Saturday and had
time to take this photo of my bike resting on the memorial

Normally, I'm a little late and it's Andy waiting on the Green, but this weekend, the good weather prompted me to leave on time. This shot taken prior to heading towards Merstham via Gangers Hill.

Jon's broken right pedal – who said Konas
were tough mountain bikes?

Jon's broken pedal prompted him to wonder why his Kona Fire Mountain wasn't a little tougher. Jon uses it mainly on the road but, in just a year of cycling only at weekends, the pedal is in a right mess (see above).

Andy attempts to fix Jon's pedal outside of
Hunger's End in Merstham, Surrey

Andy tried to take Jon's old and broken pedals off but it wasn't possible. Jon later told me he'd go to Halford's and get it repaired – so, new pedals on Saturday, Jon? Or, as dad might have said, "New pedals, Jorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrn?"

Memories of sunny summers on the South Coast of England

Quality weather in the UK at the moment and it looks like continuing for a few more days yet. Needless to say it makes for good cycling: no coats and scarves, no gloves and, this weekend, no backpack either. I guess I was taking a risk assuming that I wouldn't be getting any punctures, but on Sunday I was only going to Woodmansterne Green (still a good six or seven miles from home) and most of the cycling surface was tarmac. As Jon and I commented, it's amazing how you can have a bike designed for rugged terrain (hefty frame, huge tractor-like tyres) and yet, the Achilles' heel, the tyres and the constant threat of punctures.

Felpham beach as I'll always remember it. Photo: Simon Carey .

Anyway, no punctures were experienced. On the Saturday we cycled the long way to Merstham, meeting Jon, who was a little bit late, at Hunger's End. Jon's pedal was still broken and Andy had bought his old pedals to the caff but couldn't fix them. I'd ambled off to the guitar shop to ogle at the bass guitars and then, on my return, we paid up and headed for home. Going down Gangers Hill, through Church Town, up the Enterdent, along Rabies Heath Road on on towards Merstham was fantastic in the early morning heat, but Sunday was promising to be what tabloids call a 'scorcher', 32 degrees. England was due to play Germany in a knock-out match later in the day and it was hard to ask for more.

Andy couldn't make Sunday so Jon and I ambled around at Woodmansterne Green reminiscing on our childhood holidays on the South Coast at Middleton and Felpham in the days when all summers were scorching hot and seemingly never-ending. We were very young when we first started going to a house called The Heron in Ancton Lodge Lane, Middleton-on-Sea. It wasn't on the beach as later houses would be, but only a short walk. Jon and I both remember the metal garden furniture and I'll always remember the woman who rented us the house, Mrs Turtle. She lived in another house next door. There was also a clock over the mantelpiece that reminded us of the Play School clock, but Jon doesn't remember that; I'm sure Criss, our sister will remember it.

Dad traded up to house on the beach after the Heron and we moved a mile up the road to Seafront, a house next door to the Southdown Holiday Camp, which I think has been knocked down. We had some good times there – apart from the time dad found a dead body, that of of young bloke who lived further up the coast and, apparently, had endured an epileptic fit while out on his sailing dinghy in rough seas. A week later dad,  Criss and mum (I wasn't there for some reason and I'm not sure if Jon was with them) were out looking for crabs in the rock pools at low tide and dad spotted what he thought was somebody dipping their head in the water to see what life was like under water, but it turned out to be the body of the guy with the dinghy. He'd gone missing about a week earlier. The whole thing was weird: that morning we saw a white horse galloping rider-less on the sand followed by a group of nuns and the sea went a funny colour too.

Dad had to attend an inquest and he got himself a mention in the Evening Argus, but the weird thing was that nobody wanted to help him drag the body from the water and bring it ashore. I remember him telling us about how the fish had been eating away at the guy's eyes. Not a pretty sight I'd imagine. I think the whole thing bugged dad for some time afterwards, but we were very young and it didn't spoil our holidays at Seafront, which continued for a couple more years before we traded up again, this time Merryweather on the Summerley Estate where, arguably, we had our defining south coast holidays. In fact, whenever I go down to the South Coast, it's always Felpham and I often go down and take a look at a couple of the houses we rented.

In the early nineties we went back en masse when Dad rented a huge house on the coast called Georgia in Limmer Lane but we were grown up with our own kids and while the magic was still there in a way, being grown up made it different, although I know that whenever I go to Felpham, that old magic is still there.

Jon and I were trying to remember dates because in between the joys of the Heron, Seafront and Merryweather, mum and dad, for some reason, decided to try a holiday in Hastings in a house called The Croft. It was one of those old, three-storey affairs but none of us liked the house and we came home early and then took a week at the Heron to compensate. I remember how dad bought our Action Men new outfits by way of compensation for a crap week. I said it was 1974, but Jon said it was earlier and so did dad when we called him from the Green to see if he remembered.

I remember how we used to count the days down as our holiday got nearer. I certainly recall sitting in the classroom at school when the lawnmowers were out on the playing fields and there was that lovely smell of cut grass. We used to walk around the block chatting about it over the weekends and I clearly recall the phrase, "when you come to think about it, 70 days isn't much really" referring to the amount of time to go before we went on holiday.

I'll stop there as there are so many memories I could write an entire blog on the subject.