Cyclokairos

More than stirrings. It’s almost April, and although the rain continues, the days are lengthening; there’s even sun at times and something approaching warmth. The garden is working through the gears. Anemone blanda a horticultural chronometer – flowers slowly closing as the day wanes; Fritillaria meleagris, insouciant in its droop; and Tulipa praestans ‘Shogun’, quite the opposite.

I may have savoured the familiar, the pleasure to be found on your doorstep, but different is sometimes needed. I headed west to Long Mynd, a place that is familiar, but with the intention of riding new lanes. Being Good Friday, I expected the free parking spots in Church Stretton to be taken by tourists, and opted for the next village north, All Stretton. The gate to the village hall’s car park was open and the solution to being adverse to forking out for a parking spot found. The plan was an anticlockwise circuit of Long Mynd. A misty start, the peaks of The Lawley and Caer Caradoc shrouded, but as the mist went the Sun was glimpsed between smears of cloud, cloud that inevitably brought spells of rain.

I rode pretty much parallel to the A49 to reach the northern most and lowest point of the ride. The lanes, where not pooled with water, were layered with mud or awash with debris. The three punctures suffered the previous Saturday (thorns!) made me wary of the trimmed hedgerows. It’s got to happen to someone, but three in the space of two hours. I was hoping the Gods were looking more favourable on me and I would come through unscathed. Soon it was the first significant climb of the day, Picklescott Hill. A turn to the south-west at its top and a blast of the UK’s prevailing wind. Then a descent to the foot of Ratlinghope Hill, on to Bridges, and another climb – this time Cold Hill. The Stiperstones an ever closer companion, the only companion in the main – these lanes are joyously empty.

A highlight of the ride came next, a snake along the flanks of Linley Hill, following the course of the West Onny river below.

Knipstone Rock was the closest torr of The Stiperstones’ ridge I cycled by. I had in fact considered a route weaving in and around The Stiperstones, but taking into account the off-road tracks it involved and the deluges of the past week (months), I thought better of it. The name of a nearby village and the state of one of the lanes confirmed I had chosen wisely.

Ok, that’s the river Onny (after its West and East tributaries have merged), not a lane, but The Bog is a village. Next came The Reckoning. I had come prepared – an 11-40 cassette in place of the previous 11-32. The 11 speed 105 rear derailleur has a 34 cog limit according to Shimano – turning in the B-screw as far as it would go suggested otherwise.

With 31-48 upfront, the capacity is also far exceeded, so no cross-chaining (but who does that?). The swap was very straightforward – a new chain also required but otherwise next to no adjustments to the indexing. I was prepared, and boy did I need to be – Asterton Bank. My work colleagues Jon and Matt have cycled it, their utterances fevered, brows sodden when recollecting. Approaching from Linley, I caught sight on occasion of a line etched on the side of Long Mynd – ‘Is that it? It doesn’t look that bad’. I was told a run up was required – in crossing the cattle grid at its foot, it’s a sharp left and then up, really up, as in twenty odd percent up. I stuck it in the 31×40 gear from the off. No Strava KOM today, just getting up it was the goal. The view up was demoralising – the straightness of the lane making no bones about the pain to come. To come? My lungs were already screaming ‘THIS IS RIDICULOUS’. Then a car appeared, coming down the hill. The nearest passing place behind the car, the driver of which had no intention of reversing back up to. I yielded by moving as close to the precipitous edge of the single track and coming to a stop. Did a I mention the twenty odd percent gradient? An interesting gradient at which to remount. I walked up to the passing place – it looked slightly less steep. A chance to regain some breath and take some photos. Once remounted, it was more toil until close to the gliding club where the gradient finally eased to something sensible. Average gradient 17% over 1 km, the maximum incline 25%. Might give it a miss next time I’m in these parts.

Across the top of Long Mynd towards the high point of Pole Bank, I was flying, it felt effortless. The gruelling climb up Asterton Bank must have untapped unknown reserves of energy. It was really quiet too, no wind whistling back across my ears. Ah, yes, I was headed north east, the prevailing wind was on my back. A tailwind the reason for the ease of the traverse across Long Mynd’s upper slopes.

The Burway was my route down. Going up it is another fearsome climb. Although longer and some very steep sections early on, not as bad as Asterton Bank, but it’s all relative – still a toughie. Once delivered into Church Stretton, it was a short ride back to the car.

In choosing what to do, I keep turning to the bike, chalking off rides, routes, hills, the views they provide, the experiences they bring. Asterton Bank, despite its reputation (because of?), was one on the list (didn’t I dismiss to-do-lists in that previous post?). Asterton Bank, The Burway, Castle/Plush Hill, Minton Batch, Carding Mill Valley, The Batch, Packetstone Hill – on road, off road – Long Mynd keeps supplying routes up and down it. There’s still some to do, but I guess my argument is, if they don’t happen, they don’t happen. There’s meaning to be had in whatever else happens.