PDXzap
Well-Known Member
Nice job Mr. Loo, I almost felt like I took a trip back home! It looks like Denver is still a little deserted?
Readytoride
Well-Known Member
- Region
- USA
- City
- Virginia
Making Hay While the Sun Shines, When Mountains Become Clouds, and Enjoying A Run
OK. Before we go any further, I guess I need to explain the last segment of the title: Enjoying a Run. No, I did not hop off my bike at any time during my ride and start jogging via "Shank's mare" (e.g.: on foot, which is a ridiculous prospect to begin with). What I mean by "Run" is a southern US term for a rather substantial (defined as broad rather than deep) creek, one that is actively scooting right along, sometimes with mini rapids, and would require: a. A decent bridge to cross it, or b. A set of thigh-high waders to traverse from one bank to the other, or c. A small canoe to navigate up or downstream.
This little ditty (conveniently found on the internet of Southern Expressions - from the Mid-Atlantic to the Deep South) explains "a run" in a nutshell:
Generally, the difference is size: you can step over a brook, jump over a creek, wade across a stream, and swim across a river. But the distinction between them (especially creek and stream) is somewhat hazy, and depends on who named them and when they were named. A run (such as the Bull Run in Virginia) is a "small but wide stream".
We have a lot of "runs" here in Northern Virginia. And I met one of the prettiest ones today.
The entire strategy this morning was to get out and enjoy a quick ride before the 90°F (32°C) heat, along with its BFF (best friend forever) "Humidity", trounced our countryside into a complete white-flag surrender at the stroke of noon. Not to be left out, another BFF, "Headwind", was expected to join in the not-so-frivolous frivolity about an hour beforehand to aid in the trouncing of any cyclist who dared venture out onto the roads.
So a quick getaway on my part was essential. And a route of merely north and south headings to avoid any attempts at headwinds to assult me. East direction was OK, West was a no-no.
Since it was the Vado's turn for a gallop around the countryside, and because I needed a chrome pony that wasn't restricted to a pokey 20mph, today would be fast paved roads, a fast breezy pace, and NO stopping whatsoever ... except for when my bike was being posed for arty photos, cold drink breaks, chatting with people, looking up unusual roadside flowers, inspecting interesting rock walls, looking up at how high the trees are overhead, checking over the sides of old bridges to see how fast the water was running in the Run, etc. You know. Important stuff.
The route south took us past endless hayfields, the grass already being reaped under the blazing summer sun to lie in regimented rows, first to dry and then be fluffed and then wait for the big farm machinery to roll those rows into big rolled bales. (Yes, I'm having a bit of wordplay fun. Just sit back and enjoy it). Since I didn't have my banana with me for scale, I used the Vado to show how big those hay rolls are in real life. I counted over 60 rolls in the adjacent fields, and later passed a few more fields belonging to this farm that had hay still on the ground, ready to be rolled.
The old addage "make hay while the sun shines" was in full force today as I passed miles of farms sprouting hundreds of hay rolls in recently shorn fields. There are going to be a lot of very happy cattle munching down on this bounty this winter.
This route usually has some stunning views of the Blue Ridge mountains to offer the discerning cyclist who enjoys sightseeing as well as simply pedaling. But today the mountains were fussing with the wretched humidity which had leached all the color out of the magnificent hills and left them devoid of any blue whatsoever. In fact, it was hard to tell where the mountains ended and the clouds began as the bleached sky and bleached land merged forces to try and offset the onslaught of the wilting humidity. The sun was no help at all - each time it came blazing out from behind a cloud to restore the color balance, the humidity promptly threw a bucket of whitewash on everything, causing the sun to slink back behind the clouds in a sulking retreat.
Might as well have hung a sign up: No Mountain Views Today Due To COVID-19.
Best example of whitewashing ever!
Half the distant landscape may have been de-colorized and rendered an uninspired "blah", but there was still plenty of Mother Nature's artwork up close to admire. Recently, when the pandemic was in full swing and everything cultural shuttered behind closed and locked doors, there was a fun internet project started up - The Art History Challenge - for people to reenact their favorite masterpiece painting, and post their results on the internet. It was loads of fun to see how creative hundreds of people, all over the world, could be in mimicking the great masters' most popular works. I think Mother Nature deserves some seriously well earned karma points for this outstanding rendition of Expressionist artist Edvard Munch's 1893 work "Der Schrei der Natur" (aka: The Scream)
Well done, Mother Nature. Well done.
About 13 miles into the ride I reached the crossroads where I either turned West into the headwinds (nope, not happening) or East onto a rolling paved road with some, but not near enough, tree coverage so that I could start my gallop back North. The sun, fortunately, took that moment to take a break and go lounge behind some clouds. I was quick enough to push the Vado into a fast gallop, and we reached the road going north before the sun came back out to see what I was doing.
Mission accomplished, with plenty of self-made breeze to keep me cool, it was decision time again. The wide, fast, open road back North offered only minimal shade, and was 10 miles long. Not a favorable choice, not since the sun was back out in all its scorching fury, looking for me. I did have a second option: a small unimproved (just blacktop, no painted stripes) road just prior to the big road that ran the same direction, both roads emptying out onto the same major highway. This little road, fortunately, was loaded with trees and some very welcoming shade. Since it was only a secondary road, and a bit rough around the edges, it was completely ignored by the vast majority of traffic that preferred the sleeker, faster, more "car oriented" main road.
Wasn't a hard choice for me. The Vado and I slipped quietly onto the secondary road, and within seconds were welcomed by a whole forest of hardwood trees crowding the edge of the road, all eager to share their shade. There was a beautiful stone wall that followed the road at one point, marshalling most of the trees back a proper social distance without compromising the much appreciated shade. The views in front of me and behind were equally beautiful.
One section of wall had a unique feature that isn't often found anymore on modern-made stone walls - that of big, solid stones set so a portion is jutting out to offer a "foot purchase" for anyone who wants to go up and over the wall without disturbing the top cap stones. Most often this feature is seen on old stone walls surround old schools, which allowed kids to "hop" the walls without damaging the stonework, or their trousers.
Of course, I had to stop, climb on one foot stone, and peek over the other side to see if a matching foot hold stone had been placed on that far side as well. Sure enough, there was. I was pleased to see the historical significance of those foot stones hadn't been compromised by modern day construction.
In a matter of 5 or so miles, the sweet paved road came to a crossroads, and a bittersweet ending. My Vado was not pleased with the prospect of setting its clean tires on the resulting dusty gravel road that took the paved road's place going forward, especially as I had promised my bike paved roads and nothing but for this outing. However the thought of going back 5 miles to catch the big main road was just not in the cards. Not today, and certainly not in the rising heat. Even standing there to inspect the gravel road was causing my sunglasses to fog up with the humidity, so the Vado obediently and dutifully set forth to travel the rough gravel, albeit at a much reduced pace.
The trees had elected to stay behind with the old paved road, so my bike and I were at a bit of a disadvantage with the dusty gravel and blistering sun teaming up against us. Still, the views were interesting, none the least for this huge complex totally devoted to indulging expensive sport horses in a manner that I could certainly become accustom to living!
As I was taking this picture of the magnificent stable for entitled horses, I noticed a guy cycling up the road on a very happy fat tire bike, one that was having such a good time that it was leaving a carefree trail of white dust flying up in its wake. I could recognize an ebike when I saw one, and called out. He stopped, and within seconds Chris and I were were busy discussing his handy little gravel ebike - a RadRover - and how (he said) getting an ebike had, without question, "changed his life". He even bought one for his wife so that she could ride with him, and said that she loved to peek over at his controls while they were riding together and ask "what number are you on?"
He was drenched in sweat, but happier than a clam at high tide, getting in some gravel road riding before heading back home to work. He did say he used to be a road bike rider, but stopped because there had been three deaths on the paved roads out here. His face took on a serious look as he explained he no longer felt comfortable riding the paved roads, but (his grin reappearing) with his ebike he could have a blast riding the gravel. He mentioned the gravel road in front of me had a wonderful bridge crossing that was pleasant and cool. At that point since he was in a hurry, and I wanted to be out of the sun, we said our goodbyes, but not before he earnestly said he really hoped he'd see me again out on the gravel roads.
I managed this shot as he sprinted off down the road towards home a mere 5 miles away. Super nice guy. And a really fun loving, cool looking ebike. I hope we will meet again.
The gravel road went about a quarter mile further, embroiled in the baking heat from the sun overhead, before it took pity on me and slipped into a woodland full of sweet, sweet shade.
A mile or so later the road took on the role of a besotted lover, cozying up to a beautiful, clear water run just as pretty as pretty can be. I stopped to take a picture, then just stood and listened. All around me there was no sound other than the birds singing a cheerful chorus to the background melody of the crystal clear water dancing over the river rocks and sweeping under the grand parade of trees hovering protectively along the embankments, every tree lined up tight to its companions, intent upon keeping the intrusive heat and humidity at limb's length.
This run, I noticed, was actually navigable by canoe, and certainly fit the description of a true Virginia run. I did try my hand at some video, but, upon seeing the less than adequate results, decided that any further attempts will require a selfie stick for a smoother pan. So, for now, this still shot will have to suffice.
I already knew the road was soon to meet up with a polo field, as we had (many years ago) spent many a Sunday summer day here with the carriage club driving to the polo meets to enjoy an afternoon of chukkers and picnic lunches.
The grounds had been silenced this spring when the pandemic hit. The grassy field had been carefully maintained, but had not seen a horse, rider, mallet or polo ball since the shutdown. The field gates were padlocked. It was all very silent, and very sad.
The old sign on the far gate, however, was still on duty, and I smiled at the wording on a horse's reaction triggers, designed specifically to educate the non-horse savvy public. Something we don't have to seriously contemplate when we throw a leg over a bike. Well, not all the time, that is.
At the far end of the field the run widened to accommodate the need for a bridge which begged to have pictures taken of it in all its 1916 glory. Another bridge built by the Lifton Bridge Company of Pennsylvania a century plus 4 years ago, still looking as grand as ever despite the coating of green moss and lichen on the concrete bridge abutments. The view from the crest of the bridge was ever so lovely, ever so peaceful, ever so serene. I could have remained there for hours, watching the cool, clear water slid by...if an annoying and persistent deer fly hadn't been trying to attack my arms, face, legs, or any other exposed part of me that had an attractive amount of blood just under the skin surface. Since I had no desire to become this fly's next meal, I hopped on the Vado and put some distance between me and any other vampiric bug in the vacinity.
Escaping the bloodthirsty insects prowling the woods by pedaling onward meant that I soon came to the end of the gravel road right before the main highway. The sign below made my Vado very happy.
I had my choice of turning West for 2 or 3 miles until I reached my main road home, or turning East for less than a mile before I had a quiet spur guide me off the main highway onto a short paved loop that emptied me back on the highway closer to my destination.
East it was. And the entire way, for as far as I could see in my rear view mirror, there were zero cars on my side. It was an easy ride, and a quick trip to a northbound road that traveled for about 4 miles to the quiet lane that would take me straight home.
All well and good, except....I wasn't quite ready to end such a beautiful ride, so I took a slight loop past my neighbor's (with the Vado) newly purchased house (she settled today!) right over the hill from me. We will now be within a mile of each other to meet for rides, rather than 3 and 4 miles to ride before we meet.
A quick zip down some wonderfully shaded, very refreshing gravel roads, then back to pavement again before I rolled up my driveway at 30 miles on the dot.
I quickly cleaned the dust off the Vado and wiped down the chain so the bike could be tucked inside, neat and clean, to sip on some electrons. I plugged the bike in two minutes before the noon temperature rise scorcher began.
Perfect timing, perfect bike, perfect day, perfect ride.
OK. Before we go any further, I guess I need to explain the last segment of the title: Enjoying a Run. No, I did not hop off my bike at any time during my ride and start jogging via "Shank's mare" (e.g.: on foot, which is a ridiculous prospect to begin with). What I mean by "Run" is a southern US term for a rather substantial (defined as broad rather than deep) creek, one that is actively scooting right along, sometimes with mini rapids, and would require: a. A decent bridge to cross it, or b. A set of thigh-high waders to traverse from one bank to the other, or c. A small canoe to navigate up or downstream.
This little ditty (conveniently found on the internet of Southern Expressions - from the Mid-Atlantic to the Deep South) explains "a run" in a nutshell:
Generally, the difference is size: you can step over a brook, jump over a creek, wade across a stream, and swim across a river. But the distinction between them (especially creek and stream) is somewhat hazy, and depends on who named them and when they were named. A run (such as the Bull Run in Virginia) is a "small but wide stream".
We have a lot of "runs" here in Northern Virginia. And I met one of the prettiest ones today.
The entire strategy this morning was to get out and enjoy a quick ride before the 90°F (32°C) heat, along with its BFF (best friend forever) "Humidity", trounced our countryside into a complete white-flag surrender at the stroke of noon. Not to be left out, another BFF, "Headwind", was expected to join in the not-so-frivolous frivolity about an hour beforehand to aid in the trouncing of any cyclist who dared venture out onto the roads.
So a quick getaway on my part was essential. And a route of merely north and south headings to avoid any attempts at headwinds to assult me. East direction was OK, West was a no-no.
Since it was the Vado's turn for a gallop around the countryside, and because I needed a chrome pony that wasn't restricted to a pokey 20mph, today would be fast paved roads, a fast breezy pace, and NO stopping whatsoever ... except for when my bike was being posed for arty photos, cold drink breaks, chatting with people, looking up unusual roadside flowers, inspecting interesting rock walls, looking up at how high the trees are overhead, checking over the sides of old bridges to see how fast the water was running in the Run, etc. You know. Important stuff.
The route south took us past endless hayfields, the grass already being reaped under the blazing summer sun to lie in regimented rows, first to dry and then be fluffed and then wait for the big farm machinery to roll those rows into big rolled bales. (Yes, I'm having a bit of wordplay fun. Just sit back and enjoy it). Since I didn't have my banana with me for scale, I used the Vado to show how big those hay rolls are in real life. I counted over 60 rolls in the adjacent fields, and later passed a few more fields belonging to this farm that had hay still on the ground, ready to be rolled.
The old addage "make hay while the sun shines" was in full force today as I passed miles of farms sprouting hundreds of hay rolls in recently shorn fields. There are going to be a lot of very happy cattle munching down on this bounty this winter.
This route usually has some stunning views of the Blue Ridge mountains to offer the discerning cyclist who enjoys sightseeing as well as simply pedaling. But today the mountains were fussing with the wretched humidity which had leached all the color out of the magnificent hills and left them devoid of any blue whatsoever. In fact, it was hard to tell where the mountains ended and the clouds began as the bleached sky and bleached land merged forces to try and offset the onslaught of the wilting humidity. The sun was no help at all - each time it came blazing out from behind a cloud to restore the color balance, the humidity promptly threw a bucket of whitewash on everything, causing the sun to slink back behind the clouds in a sulking retreat.
Might as well have hung a sign up: No Mountain Views Today Due To COVID-19.
Best example of whitewashing ever!
Half the distant landscape may have been de-colorized and rendered an uninspired "blah", but there was still plenty of Mother Nature's artwork up close to admire. Recently, when the pandemic was in full swing and everything cultural shuttered behind closed and locked doors, there was a fun internet project started up - The Art History Challenge - for people to reenact their favorite masterpiece painting, and post their results on the internet. It was loads of fun to see how creative hundreds of people, all over the world, could be in mimicking the great masters' most popular works. I think Mother Nature deserves some seriously well earned karma points for this outstanding rendition of Expressionist artist Edvard Munch's 1893 work "Der Schrei der Natur" (aka: The Scream)
Well done, Mother Nature. Well done.
About 13 miles into the ride I reached the crossroads where I either turned West into the headwinds (nope, not happening) or East onto a rolling paved road with some, but not near enough, tree coverage so that I could start my gallop back North. The sun, fortunately, took that moment to take a break and go lounge behind some clouds. I was quick enough to push the Vado into a fast gallop, and we reached the road going north before the sun came back out to see what I was doing.
Mission accomplished, with plenty of self-made breeze to keep me cool, it was decision time again. The wide, fast, open road back North offered only minimal shade, and was 10 miles long. Not a favorable choice, not since the sun was back out in all its scorching fury, looking for me. I did have a second option: a small unimproved (just blacktop, no painted stripes) road just prior to the big road that ran the same direction, both roads emptying out onto the same major highway. This little road, fortunately, was loaded with trees and some very welcoming shade. Since it was only a secondary road, and a bit rough around the edges, it was completely ignored by the vast majority of traffic that preferred the sleeker, faster, more "car oriented" main road.
Wasn't a hard choice for me. The Vado and I slipped quietly onto the secondary road, and within seconds were welcomed by a whole forest of hardwood trees crowding the edge of the road, all eager to share their shade. There was a beautiful stone wall that followed the road at one point, marshalling most of the trees back a proper social distance without compromising the much appreciated shade. The views in front of me and behind were equally beautiful.
One section of wall had a unique feature that isn't often found anymore on modern-made stone walls - that of big, solid stones set so a portion is jutting out to offer a "foot purchase" for anyone who wants to go up and over the wall without disturbing the top cap stones. Most often this feature is seen on old stone walls surround old schools, which allowed kids to "hop" the walls without damaging the stonework, or their trousers.
Of course, I had to stop, climb on one foot stone, and peek over the other side to see if a matching foot hold stone had been placed on that far side as well. Sure enough, there was. I was pleased to see the historical significance of those foot stones hadn't been compromised by modern day construction.
In a matter of 5 or so miles, the sweet paved road came to a crossroads, and a bittersweet ending. My Vado was not pleased with the prospect of setting its clean tires on the resulting dusty gravel road that took the paved road's place going forward, especially as I had promised my bike paved roads and nothing but for this outing. However the thought of going back 5 miles to catch the big main road was just not in the cards. Not today, and certainly not in the rising heat. Even standing there to inspect the gravel road was causing my sunglasses to fog up with the humidity, so the Vado obediently and dutifully set forth to travel the rough gravel, albeit at a much reduced pace.
The trees had elected to stay behind with the old paved road, so my bike and I were at a bit of a disadvantage with the dusty gravel and blistering sun teaming up against us. Still, the views were interesting, none the least for this huge complex totally devoted to indulging expensive sport horses in a manner that I could certainly become accustom to living!
As I was taking this picture of the magnificent stable for entitled horses, I noticed a guy cycling up the road on a very happy fat tire bike, one that was having such a good time that it was leaving a carefree trail of white dust flying up in its wake. I could recognize an ebike when I saw one, and called out. He stopped, and within seconds Chris and I were were busy discussing his handy little gravel ebike - a RadRover - and how (he said) getting an ebike had, without question, "changed his life". He even bought one for his wife so that she could ride with him, and said that she loved to peek over at his controls while they were riding together and ask "what number are you on?"
He was drenched in sweat, but happier than a clam at high tide, getting in some gravel road riding before heading back home to work. He did say he used to be a road bike rider, but stopped because there had been three deaths on the paved roads out here. His face took on a serious look as he explained he no longer felt comfortable riding the paved roads, but (his grin reappearing) with his ebike he could have a blast riding the gravel. He mentioned the gravel road in front of me had a wonderful bridge crossing that was pleasant and cool. At that point since he was in a hurry, and I wanted to be out of the sun, we said our goodbyes, but not before he earnestly said he really hoped he'd see me again out on the gravel roads.
I managed this shot as he sprinted off down the road towards home a mere 5 miles away. Super nice guy. And a really fun loving, cool looking ebike. I hope we will meet again.
The gravel road went about a quarter mile further, embroiled in the baking heat from the sun overhead, before it took pity on me and slipped into a woodland full of sweet, sweet shade.
A mile or so later the road took on the role of a besotted lover, cozying up to a beautiful, clear water run just as pretty as pretty can be. I stopped to take a picture, then just stood and listened. All around me there was no sound other than the birds singing a cheerful chorus to the background melody of the crystal clear water dancing over the river rocks and sweeping under the grand parade of trees hovering protectively along the embankments, every tree lined up tight to its companions, intent upon keeping the intrusive heat and humidity at limb's length.
This run, I noticed, was actually navigable by canoe, and certainly fit the description of a true Virginia run. I did try my hand at some video, but, upon seeing the less than adequate results, decided that any further attempts will require a selfie stick for a smoother pan. So, for now, this still shot will have to suffice.
I already knew the road was soon to meet up with a polo field, as we had (many years ago) spent many a Sunday summer day here with the carriage club driving to the polo meets to enjoy an afternoon of chukkers and picnic lunches.
The grounds had been silenced this spring when the pandemic hit. The grassy field had been carefully maintained, but had not seen a horse, rider, mallet or polo ball since the shutdown. The field gates were padlocked. It was all very silent, and very sad.
The old sign on the far gate, however, was still on duty, and I smiled at the wording on a horse's reaction triggers, designed specifically to educate the non-horse savvy public. Something we don't have to seriously contemplate when we throw a leg over a bike. Well, not all the time, that is.
At the far end of the field the run widened to accommodate the need for a bridge which begged to have pictures taken of it in all its 1916 glory. Another bridge built by the Lifton Bridge Company of Pennsylvania a century plus 4 years ago, still looking as grand as ever despite the coating of green moss and lichen on the concrete bridge abutments. The view from the crest of the bridge was ever so lovely, ever so peaceful, ever so serene. I could have remained there for hours, watching the cool, clear water slid by...if an annoying and persistent deer fly hadn't been trying to attack my arms, face, legs, or any other exposed part of me that had an attractive amount of blood just under the skin surface. Since I had no desire to become this fly's next meal, I hopped on the Vado and put some distance between me and any other vampiric bug in the vacinity.
Escaping the bloodthirsty insects prowling the woods by pedaling onward meant that I soon came to the end of the gravel road right before the main highway. The sign below made my Vado very happy.
I had my choice of turning West for 2 or 3 miles until I reached my main road home, or turning East for less than a mile before I had a quiet spur guide me off the main highway onto a short paved loop that emptied me back on the highway closer to my destination.
East it was. And the entire way, for as far as I could see in my rear view mirror, there were zero cars on my side. It was an easy ride, and a quick trip to a northbound road that traveled for about 4 miles to the quiet lane that would take me straight home.
All well and good, except....I wasn't quite ready to end such a beautiful ride, so I took a slight loop past my neighbor's (with the Vado) newly purchased house (she settled today!) right over the hill from me. We will now be within a mile of each other to meet for rides, rather than 3 and 4 miles to ride before we meet.
A quick zip down some wonderfully shaded, very refreshing gravel roads, then back to pavement again before I rolled up my driveway at 30 miles on the dot.
I quickly cleaned the dust off the Vado and wiped down the chain so the bike could be tucked inside, neat and clean, to sip on some electrons. I plugged the bike in two minutes before the noon temperature rise scorcher began.
Perfect timing, perfect bike, perfect day, perfect ride.
Attachments
Last edited:
Art Deco
Well-Known Member
- Region
- USA
- City
- Selinsgrove Pennsylvania
Nice. You seem to be staying away from crowds pretty well. What part of the UK, may I ask? Kinda looks like north and west of London?Back in the saddle today on a lovely day for cycling, 14C and very little wind! It seems like many people are now back at work as I only encountered about 3 cyclists during my 32 mile trip! Just a local route once again with lots of twisty roads, it was just so much fun in these dire times! Not so many photos today as it wasn't the most scenic route, even the horses were absent today!It was good to see the golfers back out enjoying themselves on a perfect windless day, its now looking like we might have more restrictions lifted in 10 days, so a possible return to work!
View attachment 54803
Stefan Mikes
Well-Known Member
- Region
- Europe
- City
- Mazovia, Poland
Another good read, Flora! Thank you!
The U.S. is a big and interesting country indeed.
Friends! What a blunder! I completely missed the fact it is the Corpus Christi holiday in Poland today! Very little food in the fridge, even less beverages. Luckily some stores are open. I'm trying to get on some off-road ride today as it looks the weather seems to be clearing up for the "long weekend". And Sunday will mean a long ride with my brother in the "very Central Poland"; I didn't realise it would require us driving for 200 miles round trip...
Good language lesson!
Let me bring some remembrance. I come from a moderate climate (and this year has been painfully cold). Yes, we tend to experience heat-waves in August, yet nothing compares to the moment I went outside the Houston Intercontinental Airport in the summer... It was as if I stood next to the blast-furnace
The U.S. is a big and interesting country indeed.Haha! A good one!
I checked @RabH's maps before on Google and it is Scotland, Art
Friends! What a blunder! I completely missed the fact it is the Corpus Christi holiday in Poland today! Very little food in the fridge, even less beverages. Luckily some stores are open. I'm trying to get on some off-road ride today as it looks the weather seems to be clearing up for the "long weekend". And Sunday will mean a long ride with my brother in the "very Central Poland"; I didn't realise it would require us driving for 200 miles round trip...
Last edited:
D
Deleted member 18083
Guest
Boardwalk through the coastal scrub …
The southern section of the Moreton Bay Cycleway is one of my favourite places to ride. Unfortunately, it's almost an hour's drive to the start.
Southern Moreton Bay Cycleway
Was the local council trying to save funds by making the track so narrow? Musn't complain: it was hardly rush hour when I crossed!The southern section of the Moreton Bay Cycleway is one of my favourite places to ride. Unfortunately, it's almost an hour's drive to the start.
RabH
Well-Known Member
400 miles north of London and I'm very lucky to live very close to quiet country roads! I cycled almost 37 miles today and encountered very little traffic, cycling really is such a pleasure here! ☺ It was a little blustery today with 35mph gusts at times but I picked a route to avoid the nasty crosswinds, at least it was dry which is always a bonus and with that strong tailwind I hit 43.6mph (ridewithgps said 42.9
) Almost half way through the year and I have already covered 2,620 miles from 64 rides, only 5 more rides to match my ride total from last year! Such a fun ride once again and still no word when I will be returning to work so many more rides ahead all going wellAttachments
Art Deco
Well-Known Member
- Region
- USA
- City
- Selinsgrove Pennsylvania
Good for you! I am from the USA and I haven't been up to Scotland in years. Good cycling weather...Not.400 miles north of London and I'm very lucky to live very close to quiet country roads! I cycled almost 37 miles today and encountered very little traffic, cycling really is such a pleasure here! ☺ It was a little blustery today with 35mph gusts at times but I picked a route to avoid the nasty crosswinds, at least it was dry which is always a bonus and with that strong tailwind I hit 43.6mph (ridewithgps said 42.9
View attachment 55132
Twin Valley
Well-Known Member
We rode around Pine Coulee lake on a beautiful warm day with a light breeze, passed by part of the Old MacLeod trail named after Colonel MacLeod leader of the Northwest Mounted Police during the 1870's as they pushed a trail to Fort Calgary from Fort MacLeod - the Old MacLeod trail was a supply route from Fort Benton in Montana to Calgary that oxen trains pulled the supply wagons - I suppose a prelude to the Free Trade agreements between our countries - Calgary has a major route through the south part of the city called MacLeod trail - a little busier than our rural tour today!
Stefan Mikes
Well-Known Member
- Region
- Europe
- City
- Mazovia, Poland
Oh my! Specialized Turbo Levo!
Stefan Mikes
Well-Known Member
- Region
- Europe
- City
- Mazovia, Poland
The Meanders of River Rawka (The Appetiser Only)
Just one blurry picture from my Corpus Christi Day off-road ride. More to come later.
You ride in.
See this.
WAT DO.
The bull really disliked me. Cows: Murderous beasts!
Just one blurry picture from my Corpus Christi Day off-road ride. More to come later.
You ride in.
See this.
WAT DO.
The bull really disliked me. Cows: Murderous beasts!
steve mercier
Well-Known Member
I see you turfed the ridecontrol one? That is one way that Giant cuts corners to underprice Trek and others.
steve mercier
Well-Known Member
why not put the cam on the bike or your chest?
Stefan Mikes
Well-Known Member
- Region
- Europe
- City
- Mazovia, Poland
Right. I needed a display. The EVO's not cheap.
steve mercier
Well-Known Member
It will be worth the price if it is more waterproof than the ridecontrol one
pmcdonald
Well-Known Member
It's not
D
Deleted member 18083
Guest
Friday's ride …
Lake Wivenhoe
Lake Wivenhoe, Brisbane's main reservoir, appears on many of my Ride with GPS maps, so it was about time that I included it on a ride. Tick that one off! (More photos and, of course, the Ride with GPS map to follow.)
Stefan Mikes
Well-Known Member
- Region
- Europe
- City
- Mazovia, Poland
Not sure whether the 2020 EVO are waterproof or not but my brother tells me to protect it with a condomIt's not
Stefan Mikes
Well-Known Member
- Region
- Europe
- City
- Mazovia, Poland
The Meanders of River Rawka
I completely missed the fact last Thursday would be the Feast of Corpus Christi in Poland, a holiday. My fridge was almost empty, beverages and ride snacks to be bought at the gas station, etc. I took a day off at work and drove to Puszcza Mariańska to further explore the Bolimów Landscape Park and beyond. At last we had warm weather, pleasant wind helped ignore humidity but the ground was soaked with rainwater and the trails and tracks were full of deep puddles with no way around; just the perfect environment for my Monster. I was eager to test my new Sony RX100 VII camera.
The route plan was to ride paved roads only where it was absolutely necessary. From that point on (around the 8th kilometre from the start) it was mostly off-road riding.
The first part of the ride followed tourist trails with easy terrain (nothing was easy after heavy night raining though). I had already been on some of those trails before. For example, I could find the place where I had that spectacular fall while jumping over a trench on the "Trail of Bygone Manor Houses"; the internet/phone company had completed their work and the trail was ride-able again.
The Polish rural folk are deeply religious. There are numerous wayside shrines and places of the cult to be found even deep in the woods.
I found the new camera was perfect for nature close-up photography. Although my longer stops were rare that time, I was often stopping for taking photos.
There are as many as two villages by the name of Jeruzal in Poland: This one in the Łódź Land and another one in Mazovia. The history was always the same: To attract visitors (and to improve business), the locals named both villages Jeruzalem; that didn't help though. Both locations were later renamed to Jeruzal. The iconic view: a larger Polish village has to include a grocery store (or two) and a church.
The Feast of Corpus Christi has to involve one long procession around the parish. I was too late out for that. Here, people gathered at the Holy Mass service.
Corn-flower, one of the most often found Polish wild flowers; the other one being the poppy.
Quite unexpectedly, I rode into a bee-yard. A beekeeper brings the bee-hives into a meadow so the bees can feed in the warm season. I just missed my way: the tourist trail diverged to the right to become a single track but I rode ahead instead.
To my delight, me and Monster found ourselves on a track. Completely overgrown with grass, muddy, and wet (full of puddles). What a pleasure of riding there!
Then, we both rode among the fields. Occasionally, a hunting pulpit could be seen. The area was teeming with wildlife. Here, a big hare jumped in front of the Monster's front wheel and disappeared in the woods. There, a pheasant shot up in the sky when I was negotiating a puddle.
A field road. The road even had a name! You would have never guessed the name of that very road. It was the "Field Rd."
The midpoint of the trip. The village of Babsk (translated to "Place of Hags (or, of Countrywomen)") -- population of 690 -- is known from the fact it is split into two by the S8 expressway.
There was no easy ride from that point on. I intentionally resigned from moving along tourist trails and plotted a route along paths/tracks. It was a long exciting ride with an occasional...
...military range The Army cannot of course put a remark "Hey, we have a range here!" on a tourist map. Instead, there was a sign: "Military range. By entering here, you put your own life at risk". I assumed they wouldn't be shooting on the holiday
That was the most exciting part of the trip. I found (on the map) a path leading along the River Rawka, in a nature reservation. The River Rawka is strongly meandering there and that's a gorgeous view. Unawares, I entered a 4 km single track which was... a grass-overgrown morass. I had to fight to survive. I told my Monster: "My trustworthy steed: We must not lose the momentum. MOVE ON!" Oh my, that was fun to ride for dear life...
The Meanders of River Rawka. The dreaded 4-km ride segment.
When we both emerged from the swamp, we were both so tired we fell on the ground to take a long rest. Monster was so tired it fell on the drive-side
Monster and me rode any imaginable type of terrain on that day. Except the rocks.
Rambling through the fields. The way lost again.
A briar flower.
Cows, murderous beasts! I didn't really know what to do next until a shepherd approached the cattle.
"Dirty MTB is a happy MTB"
The ride map and stats.
I completely missed the fact last Thursday would be the Feast of Corpus Christi in Poland, a holiday. My fridge was almost empty, beverages and ride snacks to be bought at the gas station, etc. I took a day off at work and drove to Puszcza Mariańska to further explore the Bolimów Landscape Park and beyond. At last we had warm weather, pleasant wind helped ignore humidity but the ground was soaked with rainwater and the trails and tracks were full of deep puddles with no way around; just the perfect environment for my Monster. I was eager to test my new Sony RX100 VII camera.
The route plan was to ride paved roads only where it was absolutely necessary. From that point on (around the 8th kilometre from the start) it was mostly off-road riding.
The first part of the ride followed tourist trails with easy terrain (nothing was easy after heavy night raining though). I had already been on some of those trails before. For example, I could find the place where I had that spectacular fall while jumping over a trench on the "Trail of Bygone Manor Houses"; the internet/phone company had completed their work and the trail was ride-able again.
The Polish rural folk are deeply religious. There are numerous wayside shrines and places of the cult to be found even deep in the woods.
I found the new camera was perfect for nature close-up photography. Although my longer stops were rare that time, I was often stopping for taking photos.
There are as many as two villages by the name of Jeruzal in Poland: This one in the Łódź Land and another one in Mazovia. The history was always the same: To attract visitors (and to improve business), the locals named both villages Jeruzalem; that didn't help though. Both locations were later renamed to Jeruzal. The iconic view: a larger Polish village has to include a grocery store (or two) and a church.
The Feast of Corpus Christi has to involve one long procession around the parish. I was too late out for that. Here, people gathered at the Holy Mass service.
Corn-flower, one of the most often found Polish wild flowers; the other one being the poppy.
Quite unexpectedly, I rode into a bee-yard. A beekeeper brings the bee-hives into a meadow so the bees can feed in the warm season. I just missed my way: the tourist trail diverged to the right to become a single track but I rode ahead instead.
To my delight, me and Monster found ourselves on a track. Completely overgrown with grass, muddy, and wet (full of puddles). What a pleasure of riding there!
Then, we both rode among the fields. Occasionally, a hunting pulpit could be seen. The area was teeming with wildlife. Here, a big hare jumped in front of the Monster's front wheel and disappeared in the woods. There, a pheasant shot up in the sky when I was negotiating a puddle.
A field road. The road even had a name! You would have never guessed the name of that very road. It was the "Field Rd."
The midpoint of the trip. The village of Babsk (translated to "Place of Hags (or, of Countrywomen)") -- population of 690 -- is known from the fact it is split into two by the S8 expressway.
There was no easy ride from that point on. I intentionally resigned from moving along tourist trails and plotted a route along paths/tracks. It was a long exciting ride with an occasional...
...military range
The Army cannot of course put a remark "Hey, we have a range here!" on a tourist map. Instead, there was a sign: "Military range. By entering here, you put your own life at risk". I assumed they wouldn't be shooting on the holiday That was the most exciting part of the trip. I found (on the map) a path leading along the River Rawka, in a nature reservation. The River Rawka is strongly meandering there and that's a gorgeous view. Unawares, I entered a 4 km single track which was... a grass-overgrown morass. I had to fight to survive. I told my Monster: "My trustworthy steed: We must not lose the momentum. MOVE ON!" Oh my, that was fun to ride for dear life...
The Meanders of River Rawka. The dreaded 4-km ride segment.
When we both emerged from the swamp, we were both so tired we fell on the ground to take a long rest. Monster was so tired it fell on the drive-side
Monster and me rode any imaginable type of terrain on that day. Except the rocks.
Rambling through the fields. The way lost again.
A briar flower.
Cows, murderous beasts! I didn't really know what to do next until a shepherd approached the cattle.
"Dirty MTB is a happy MTB"
The ride map and stats.
Last edited:
RabH
Well-Known Member
Another 37 miles today in the same blustery conditions as yesterday, thankfully it was dry once again! I decided to use the main roads on the way home this time as I was in a rush, most of the drivers were courteous except an idiot in an Audi who thought I shouldn't be sharing the road with him! He shouted "you don't pay road tax" to which I replied its a zero emissions vehicle so its exempt, zero emission cars are exempt from road tax! There's always one! 
He shouted "you don't pay road tax" to which I replied its a zero emissions vehicle so its exempt, zero emission cars are exempt from road tax! There's always one! Attachments
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