January 27th 2022: Snowdrops and sunsets

As we close in on the end of January it seems that 2022 is well underway. Amazingly I have notched up a second Gran Fondo ride, almost unheard of this early in the year. On the pretext of seeking out a couple of new cafés we had got wind of I headed out onto the Wirral on a circular route. After finding the Foxes tearooms on a cyclepath near Saughall (closed on Mondays) i then headed west through the lanes, taking in Ledsham and Burton before rolling into the old market town of Neston and picking up the Wirral COuntry Park cycleway, on an old railway bed crossing the Wirral towards Ellesmere Port. This took me directly past the vibrant Hadlow Road railway station on the Wirral Country Park cycleway near Willaston, now a museum showing how the station was in 1952, a few years before its closure. A pop-up coffee van is available but, sadly for me, not on Mondays ( abit of a theme here). Clearly we will have to return. In the end I did find a café, stopping at Meadow Lea near the Greenway for a late lunch (and the obligatory cake, of course) before heading into the centre of Chester and then homewards, just as the sun was going down.

Sunsets have also been a bit of a theme on many rides so far this month (a facet of sunset being around 4pm I guess) and I have been fortunate to witness some spectacular skies. The latest was a couple of days ago as I headed out on an uncharacteristic sunny afternoon, heading into the Cheshire lanes east of Farndon. Imagine my delight as I cam across a sprinkling of snowdrops on the roadside on the outskirts of Tilston, glistening in the sunlight. I returned through Dodleston and watched the sun setting through cloud formations above Hope Mountain. There is something really worthwhile about bike rides at this time of year. Once I get over the discomfort of heading out when the weather is cold, wet, windy or, indeed, all three at once, it really can be rewarding. With bike light technology being what it is these days there really is little excuse for those end of daylight rides. I have managed a couple of hilly rides too, one up the long climb to Treuddyn (a rarity for me recently) and a return to the Sychdyn climb I visited earlier in the month. That ride finished with a wind assisted breeze along the River Dee, again as the sun was disappearing over the Clwyd hills out west.

January 14th 2022: On top of the world

This January sunshine is so enticing. Another forecast of settled weather with light winds yesterday could only mean one thing. Time for the first awayday of 2022, as I loaded the Kinesis into the car and headed west along the A55 to the seaside and a chance to ride more of Sustrans NCN5, this time along the North Wales coast to Llandudno. I had in mind another visit to the iconic road that is Marine Drive, winding its way precariously round the Great Orme, only this time making a detour to the very summit. My last visit here was in September when the Tour of Britain came to town but we were prevented from taking the high road by the race officials. Today was the day then.

Parking up in the ancient market town of Abergele, also renowned for its myriad caravan parks and holidaymakers who have come in search of sun and sea rather than local cheese and produce on the market, the Irish Sea was a bright blue as I gazed out to the giant wind turbine farm just offshore. In its way it has become part of the local landscape and is strangely eye-catching. I turned my gaze westwards, powered up the Garmin and set off along the cycle route, mixing it with dog walkers, fellow cyclists and meandering visitors (even in January) bound for Colwyn, Penryn and eventually Llandudno. The first 8km or so is easy navigation-wise, simply following the dedicated shared use path past more caravans and alongside the A55 Expressway and the north Wales railway line, the long extending promontory of the Ormes (Little and Great) stretching northwards out into the briney waters. Approaching Colcyn Bay the route was blocked by continued reworking of the promenade section at Old Colwyn. Given that this was going on way back in September it does make you wonder just what they are doing here that is taking so long. I'm sure it will be lovely when it's finished but the detour off the cycle path is both awkward and brings the casual cyclist into close contact with busy traffic at a junction with the A55. Not ideal.

Back on the coastal path I confess I chose to ride on the coast road itself, mixing it with cars and vans, thankfully quiet at this time of year, rather than slaloming my way amongst the suicidal pedestrians on the shared use promenade (the offical NCN5 route). As a result I made good progress, with Little Orme gathering in magnitude as I got ever closer. Out to sea the turbines had retreated behind me and all was calm and blue on this lovely morning. Strangely, no-one was braving the icy cold waters. I can't imagine why. After Penryn the road starts a gentle climb towards the Little Orme and the inevitable short but steep haul up and over the shoulder before dropping swiftly down into the Victorian resort that is Llandudno. The promenade here is wide and, on a January morning, relatively quiet so I escaped from the road and cruised serenely along the sweeping curve that takes you round the bay toward the imposing Grand Hotel and the elegant pier that sit under the cliffs of the Great Orme. The pier was bustling with winter visitors enjoying the sunshine and the seagulls who seem to delight in tormenting anyone trying to enjoy chips or an ice-cream (ice-creams in January?).

Marine Drive starts from the pier entrance, behind the Grand Hotel, and as the road heads upwards a Victorian toll booth takes money from motorised vehicle users. Bikes go free, a welcome initiative which encourages two-wheeled users to explroe this wonderful road. It is only about 7 kilometres round the Great orme, but the sinewy corniche road climbs steadily for the first half of this to the aptly named Rest and Be Thankful café at the apex of the headland. Being one way AND a toll road means that, especially in January, it is quiet and cyclists can enjoy it to the full. Dramatic cliffs drop away seawards and rise steeply overhead as the road twists and turns before reaching a junction after a couple of kilometres. It is here that the steep climb to the summit begins, with a glorious series of hairpins gaining height to St Tudno's church and cemetery, about half way. The views grow ever more impressive before the unwitting cyclist is brought back to earth by a cruelly steepening gradient which tips the scales at 20% for 100 metres or so before easing again and even embracing a short downhill section to pop out above the Half Way tram station. From here it is now a short haul up a steady incline with wide grassy slopes to reach the summit complex at the very top of Great orme, with a large expanse of tarmac car park to gather your breath before settling back to take it all in. If you have the energy (and I did) a short clamber across grass takes you to the summit trig point (very few riders have ticked off that particular Strava segment!) and the 360 degrees vista that awaits. The (now afternoon) sun was breaking through some clouds in dramatic fashion over the Carneddau mountain massif the other side of the Conwy estuary, whilst to the east the sweeping bay leads round to the distant tourist towns of Rhyl and Prestatyn. Below the town of Llandudno is laid out in full relief, the promenade being especially picturesque from this vantage point. A couple were on the summit enjoying all this as I approached and we engaged. Even in these Covid times it is nice to share a moment such as this, even if it is with complete strangers, and they were generous enough to do me a summit photo for my album. As they left me to savour the view one more time I reflected on how lucky we are to have places like this in our back yard.

I took the descent back down to Marine Drive fairly slowly, lapping up the views and stopping for a couple of photos of those hairpins before rejoining the toll road and labouring steadily to Rest and Be Thankful which, amazingly, was open - last time we were up here, in September, it had been sadly closed. Even better, it was clearly doing good business, but I had a date with the chippy down by the pier so I kept on rolling through and started the fast descent back to town, again stopping for a couple of photos of the mountains in the west. The chips were every bit as good as I anticipated and I sat on a bench on the prom, in the sunshine, completely ignored by the seagulls and enjoyed the moment to the full, before setting off back to Abergele by the same route and at a good pace. Before long I was rolling back to the car with some 50 or so kilometres in the bag and the satisfaction of a short but thoroughly enjoyable excursion to the seaside.

January 12th 2022: The Ince Marsh Adventure

January always brings fresh hope, whatever the circumstances. After a flourish to finish 2021 with yet another 1000km month (11 out of 12 last year) I am determined to be a bit more relaxed about the coming 12 months and not be driven by the sheer weight of the numbers game. Ride to enjoy the ride, not to tick off the kilometres. As is always the case with January the weather plays a major part and so it has proved so far this year. Helen and I have already managed a couple of outings locally, spinning the legs and enjoying the fresh (very fresh) air. The pain cave has seen some action too with three "outings" so far, but it really isn't the same.

This week has seen a period of settled weather descend on North Wales and Cheshire and the promise of light winds, above zero temperatures and even some sun drew me out for an extended ride today, heading out into north Cheshire to explore the mysterious marshes sandwiched between the M56 and the Manchester Ship Canal east of Chester. It is an industrial wasteland with petrochemical plants and huge wind turbines and has always been a source of fascination, especially when viewed from vantage points such as Helsby Hill. Riding out along the Greenway and through Chester is old hat but once on the A56 I took a left at Bridge Trafford and headed into the unknown. Village names to tickle the palate lay ahead - Wimbolds Trafford, Thornton-le-Moors and Ince took me past huge furnace chimneys and miles of metal pipework before I popped out into rural countryside on Sustrans NCN route 5, bound for Frodsham via a less than bike friendly parcours over Ince Marsh. The next few kilometres were indeed an adventure and it must be said that a mountain bike (or even a canoe) might have been a better transport option as I negotiated a potholed track that was awash after recent rain. I checked the map a couple of times but, yes, I was on the right route. In places the puddles resembled small lakes and it was a case of wading through at times. I grabbed a few photos to prove that I had been there (though of course logging it on on Strava is, as we all know, proof enough). Finally after what seemed forever I popped out onto tarmac again on a little backroad on the outskirts of Frodsham and breathed a sigh of relief.

Next up was a ride up onto the sandstone ridge and Delamere Forest via the Ridgeway, another road spotted whilst walking on Helsby Hill. This proved to be a steady climb between Frodsham and Helsby, quiet and very rural on some decent tarmac. There is always something satisfying about riding a new climb, even a relatively short one such as this. At the top I rejoined familiar roads over Birch Hill and down to Kingsley before heading into Delamere and a date with the new café in the Forest park there. Cauliflower soup, coffee and cake - what could be better after all the adventures so far. I continued through the forest (more off road stuff, though far easier than the marshes) and on through Kelsall and back towards Chester via familiar lanes. By now the day was sinking toward sunset as the sun finally broke through the persistent light cloud I had enjoyed all day and dropped towards the Welsh hills. Heading into Chester through Hoole (our old stamping ground) I arrived down by the River Dee in the city centre as the sinking sun was casting its reflected light on the still waters, silhouetting bridges and the bandstand. It was another photographic moment and I grabbed a few shots before turning for home. Close to 100 kilometres now, I rolled out of Chester through Eccleston and back via Rossett and the eponymous Stringers Lane as darkness descended, the end to a thoroughly enjoyable ride and adventure. I really must do stuff like this more often, although I might keep away from Ince Marsh until it has dried out!