Beyond the wires

The title is a line from Philip Larkin’s ‘Wires’. A poem in which youthful idealism gives way to adult pragmatism, age bringing disillusion. Relevant to this blog post? Maybe not, but I like the sentiment of the line, and I use bike rides to get beyond the wires, escape the everyday (before it sucks me back in…).

North-westish of Long Mynd, another lump – Stiperstones. A few years since my last visit. The last two were off the back of two storms. Both significant enough to merit names. The rides were muddy affairs, with some of the trails indistinguishable from a stream. I fell off my bike on both those rides, descending through Brook Vessons Nature Reserve. Comedic-slow-motion-loss-of-balance in both instances, but with the going boggy, it was a soft squelchy landing with no harm done.

August for this ride, and the promise of something drier. Driving up to the starting point of Eastridge Woods, I remembered too late that parking in the village of Habberley was a better option. The rutted lane is best tackled with something sporting tyres that wouldn’t look out of place on a monster truck. My car came off somewhat the worse for wear.

The usual faff getting the bike ready and then off to Snailbeach on a bridleway on the southern edge of the woods, an increasingly narrow trail through brambles and nettles. Cue a spill, but one righted with a hop or two to my left without actually falling over, but a hop or two through nettles. My take on PEDs, the stings putting some life into the legs for the ascent. Then a sealed lane and a prompt for that inevitable question – “Am I on the right bike?”. The Red Bike always feels draggy on road – it’s burly and the tyres are 2.25” with dependable casing (supple there are not). Ideal for off roading but frustrating on the road. It’s actually the best bike I have for this sort of ride (plenty of off-road tracks, with some metalled lanes): upright riding position, sturdy tyres, low gearing, and, unusual for me, no mudguards (well, apart from a clip-on front one I use outside of the summer when it’s a lot wetter). I had a quick look around the old lead mine in Snailbeach and then, via a quiet and undulating road, onto Tankerville, with a dash of yet more faffing – saddle height (my right knee soon telling me that the never tried before combination of flat pedals and shoes I’m using require an adjustment) and the front derailleur (the signifcant effort of switching to the big ring demanded a slackening of the cable – you should go 1x or electronic, you dinosaur).

Somewhere around Tankerville, a blue horseshoe – bridleway. A hat-trick of hills: Grit, Milk, and highest of the lot, Mucklewick. The view back showing the quartzite crenellations of Stiperstones.

The descent from Mucklewick Hill, very single track to the point, thanks to rampant gorse, of no track. With gorse being gorsey, the legs were once again stimulated – scratches rather than stings this time. A trundle along the lane that follows the river West Onny, with fond looks towards a dirt track to my right, which seemed to be on private land (perhaps I could have gotten away with riding it?), and then up the valley with Linley Hill to the east. I had descended on the lane on the other side of the valley at Easter in the run up to the climb whose name shall never be mentioned. That side is open to the elements, this side, being wooded, provided a guard of honour under the entwined upper branches of the trees. By Great Wood House I was out in the open, and with perfect timing the sun came out to ensure the slog up to Frogs Gutter was a sweaty one. One more descent, past The Knolls and almost back in Tankerville. Refuelling required, a pause before the climb to the high point of Stiperstones (after Abdon Burf, the second highest point in Shropshire). A nice climb it was too, the type I like: not too steep, well-behaved gravelly double track – stick the bike in a low gear and up you go. The stony ridge of Stiperstones with the protuberances of Cranberry Rock, Manstone Rock, Devil’s Chair, and Shepherd’s Rock ever closer. Descending, the vertiginous Mytton Dingle passed on the left. Stiperstones marks a boundary of the Welsh ice sheet – was that the cause of such a steep valley? More descending, through The Hollies, and still some down to go – definitely on the right bike, although I wouldn’t say no to a Rivendell Appaloosa, or Atlantis for that matter, or possibly a Stooge if we’re going down the disc brake route, for my off-road exploits – through Upper and Lower Vessons farms and then back at Eastridge Woods.