As Sunday dawned dry and seeing that I hadn’t ridden much really aside from the club ride, I decided to head out on a ride with the intention of getting back near a war memorial at 11am to lay a poppy. This is how things panned out.
Heading out through Fairfield and Audenshaw I had the roads pretty much to myself – a few cars here and there, but no dog walkers or peds on their way to buy the Sunday papers – but the minute I got a puncture they all seemed to come out of the woodwork. Odd that. The front wheel had one of those hiss, silence, hissss, silence, more silence, hss, hiiiiiissssssss, silence moments, where you’re not actually sure if the wheel is deflating or whether you have a leaf stuck between the brake block and the rim as they make a similar sound. Pulling over into a side road, I poked the wheel and felt squishiness. The minute the wheel came off it was like the circus was in town – peds stopped to watch, drivers slowed down as they passed. These are quite clearly people who if they ride would push their bike home or get someone else to fix the puncture for them at a bike shop. I must have seemed like a very strange person stopping in the street and getting all dirty and oily repairing a puncture. And using co2 of all things!
Flat fixed and I set off on my travels again through Guide Bridge and Ashton to head down past Stamford Park and on along Wakefield Rd through Heyrod without the fear of fuzzy catastrophe as I don’t think the bunnies had woken up yet. The roads were all mine still as I plodded on towards Greenfield and the annoying tight left hand turn at the Chew roundabout, which I was thankful of as this place can get pretty gnarly when the traffic is heavy with buses attempting to make the switch back turn.
A brief break after 11 or so miles at the entry to the transpennine trail in Greenfield and I was soon ploughing on getting muddy as the trail had been churned a little with the night’s rain, hooves and wheels. My wheels slid out from under me a few times on the slicker parts of the trail, but I maintained my balance, swallowed my heart back down and carried on regardless into Uppermill, joining the road again to double back on myself to pass Greenfield pretty little train station and back down the hill to the tpt. This side of the trail was even muddier and meant concentrating more as the slicks were struggling for grip and sinking into the surface on the softer sections. The gurgling river at my side looked too chill to topple into too, so the mind switched on and got me safely to where I needed to be – popping back out on the main road at Friezeland.
Arriving back in Mossley I decided to try to make my legs fall off by heading up the climb to Top Mossley – a lovely evil git of a climb that usually results in many lorries and buses trying not to squish me or slide backwards down the hill as they crawl patiently behind me – there’re no passing places and the road is usually down to a lane and half thanks to parking for the residences – which is why I don’t ride this climb too often. Reaching the top of the climb I gulped in air like it was running out before the lights turned green and I carried on climbing to head up towards Mossley Cross in preparation for the amazing descent down the other side.
One mile of cheshire cat smiles later I was turning off the descent part way down it, to head down past Ashton Cemetary. I could have laid my poppy at the war memorial there, but I wanted to place it at 11am and I was too early so, after a brief pause for reflection I mounted the bike and set off towards my next off road jaunt – the NCN route through Park Bridge. This off road route is compacted sand in most places, gravel in others and a bit of tarmac thrown in where the trail runs through a little garden section and later near the end at Turner St. In places you can really tell that this used to be an old train line that carried the iron and coal etc to and from Park Bridge iron works. It’s certainly a good cycle trail, albeit a little short at 2 miles long, but I love riding it on my dusk rides; and today.
Just shy of a mile later and I was onto my third off-road section of the ride. At this point there’re two options – ride the cycle/bridleway alongside the disused Hollinwood Branch canal or ride along Riverpark Drive with its massive trees lining the way on one side with the river meandering alongside at the bottom of the valley and steep tree-lined banking on the other side of the drive. As I couldn’t be mithered with the hike-a-bike section later on after the drive passes the site of the now demolished Riverpark Hall, I opted for the, no less muddy, cycle/bridleway and it’s trio of cobbled descents to the Daisy Nook countryside centre, for a brew and brief respite.
By now my lungs had a bit of a chill on, and my shoulder was grumbling at me – a surefire sign that the nerves were regenerating and the feeling was coming back (it’s almost a year now since the rebuild op), yay! As I had 15 minutes to get to the memorial gardens I jumped straight on the road where a short, sharp shock awaits in the form of the steep climb out of the valley. No warming up to it either as you begin the ascent partway up it, have to turn right partway up it while still climbing, then have to stop just shy of the top to turn right again. Nightmare. But plough up it I had to do. I did cheat a little though and stayed on the left so I could turn left at the top of the climb and head towards a housing estate which enabled me to do an off-road diversion once near Richmond cycle track. I love riding this section of off-road – it’s full of huge craters filled with water and mud with drainage ditches either side filled with nettles and nastiness.
I made it to the Littlemoss memorial gardens a little before 11am and found nobody there at all. I was surprised at this seeing as it was the first remembrance day since the memorial got replaced after vandalism destroyed the previous one. But I noticed signs saying they were having a service there at 2pm that day. So, the time and gardens were mine alone. Leaving my bike and helmet leaning on a bench, I placed my poppy in the ground to the side of the slab of engraved marble, had my silence and a bit of a wobble as I remembered relatives who fought in the war and passed away over the past few years. By now, the wind had picked up considerably, so after a few more minutes I made my way out of the gardens and sorted myself out. Bizarrely the wind which had just so recently been strong, died down to a gentle breeze. I can’t even say it was due to my being in a sheltered position now as I was still in open land with fields to the side. Hey ho.
From here, the route home was simple and without a worry, aside from a stray dog on the fiveway roundabout, but I made it back in good time to have a second breakfast before heading over to my parent’s place for the day.
Blurbage: route can be seen here
29.1 miles
1468ft climbed
24.4% maximum gradient
02:15:44
