Having plenty of time as holiday plans had changed at the last minute, I decided to go to some of the areas I haven’t ridden in before. I spent awhile looking at the UK map, then decided on Cornwall followed by Devon before heading up into Wales and then back home. So with a high expectation and a good weather forecast I drove down to Cornwall via a family visit and a ride around Monmouth.
Cornwall is a place I nearly lived a few years ago, I’ve climbed a lot around there on the beautiful granite sea cliffs and have a soft spot for the county, it’s just a nice gentle place, relaxed and friendly in that way only a place can be when to pressures of money and status haven’t yet taken full hold on the local mentality.
I found a place overlooking the sea on a high clifftop just north of Redruth and parked up, fettled my kit and slept. The next day dawned with heavy sea fret and low cloud, so I hibernated with a book and drank lots of coffee. The afternoon brightened into a warm day and I managed to get all my kit dry from a soggy Monmouth day. Red wine and a glorious red sunset rounded off a really lazy day.
I had planned a route that took in lots of the byways around Redruth, all clearly marked on the OS map. I’d contacted the local Cornish TRF group with a question if anybody was out but got no response, so planned to ride alone. I set off at 7am and was soon lost in sunken lanes, covered in arched trees where a sense of time and place disappear. The trails blended into one long trail as the surfaced roads were often similar. Some of the trails clearly hadn’t been used in awhile, overgrown with hawthorn and blackberry bushes, others were fast and flowing, none were ever difficult, even though the schist and what looked like sandstone was often greasy and slippy. I dropped the bike a couple of times, catching ruts in the long grass, the back wheel sliding out on slippy rock. Whilst waiting for the King Harry Ferry to cross the I got chatting to a lady and her niece, who came from Cumbria and it turned out I knew her brother! Such a small world... The day finished with the best lane which took me along a clifftop route, down into a little cove and back up the other side. Great views of the beaches and the folk playing in the sea.
My route passed from the coast to the moorland and as such the variety of places changed all the time. I got talking to a nice fella who pointed out I was looking at the wrong entrance to a lane, as we chatted he tole me his place had the source of the river on it and that he thought a lot of the lanes started life as ways for the farmers to move pony & trailers back to the farms, I suspect this may be the case with some but not all.
For a short time I crossed over into Devon, the lanes were very similar, I met a lovely couple walking their little spaniel down one narrow lane, they lived locally and were very chatty, quite happy to see someone using the lane. We had a ten minute chat about loads of things and parted company.
I got back to the van at 5ish, the bike was now missing the bolt and spring for the side stand which had disappeared somewhere and one of my handguards had fallen off, probably on the lane near Tavistock, which had a very rocky technical ascent which I took in a complacent manner and lost traction, spun the bike and almost headed off own the hillside! Hey ho, a beautiful lane it was too, climbing through some woodland above Tavistock to open out onto a panoramic vista. Another good days riding, lots of trails and plenty of great scenery.
Cornwall is a place I nearly lived a few years ago, I’ve climbed a lot around there on the beautiful granite sea cliffs and have a soft spot for the county, it’s just a nice gentle place, relaxed and friendly in that way only a place can be when to pressures of money and status haven’t yet taken full hold on the local mentality.
I had planned a route that took in lots of the byways around Redruth, all clearly marked on the OS map. I’d contacted the local Cornish TRF group with a question if anybody was out but got no response, so planned to ride alone. I set off at 7am and was soon lost in sunken lanes, covered in arched trees where a sense of time and place disappear. The trails blended into one long trail as the surfaced roads were often similar. Some of the trails clearly hadn’t been used in awhile, overgrown with hawthorn and blackberry bushes, others were fast and flowing, none were ever difficult, even though the schist and what looked like sandstone was often greasy and slippy. I dropped the bike a couple of times, catching ruts in the long grass, the back wheel sliding out on slippy rock. Whilst waiting for the King Harry Ferry to cross the I got chatting to a lady and her niece, who came from Cumbria and it turned out I knew her brother! Such a small world... The day finished with the best lane which took me along a clifftop route, down into a little cove and back up the other side. Great views of the beaches and the folk playing in the sea.
Once all packed up and fed, I decided to move on to the Liskeard area which was the plan for the next day. Liskeard was a much busier area, there was very little choice for parking a van up, so I ended up in a layby on the Looe road, noisy for the whole night but hey it was on my planned route. The area seems to have more UCR’s than byways, so it was a matter of stringing them together into a circular route, which in this case turned out to be 130 miles long. As it was such a length I set off early again, and was soon off into what turned out to be very similar types of lanes. The bed rock for the area is very different, with some schist again, but also plenty of limestone, some red granite and a few of the ‘sandstone’ type. The main reason for mentioning this is that each one has a different riding style needed, the schist and sandstone both need gentle throttle to get going on the steeper hills, something I’m not good at, the others can suffer a little heavier handedness.
I passed through some beautiful areas, where all kinds of industry has gone on in the past, some of the mines are now reopening, the old mills have gone though and all that remains is the buildings and the mill races, some of which have been repaired and now house holiday homes etc.
My route passed from the coast to the moorland and as such the variety of places changed all the time. I got talking to a nice fella who pointed out I was looking at the wrong entrance to a lane, as we chatted he tole me his place had the source of the river on it and that he thought a lot of the lanes started life as ways for the farmers to move pony & trailers back to the farms, I suspect this may be the case with some but not all.
For a short time I crossed over into Devon, the lanes were very similar, I met a lovely couple walking their little spaniel down one narrow lane, they lived locally and were very chatty, quite happy to see someone using the lane. We had a ten minute chat about loads of things and parted company.
I got back to the van at 5ish, the bike was now missing the bolt and spring for the side stand which had disappeared somewhere and one of my handguards had fallen off, probably on the lane near Tavistock, which had a very rocky technical ascent which I took in a complacent manner and lost traction, spun the bike and almost headed off own the hillside! Hey ho, a beautiful lane it was too, climbing through some woodland above Tavistock to open out onto a panoramic vista. Another good days riding, lots of trails and plenty of great scenery.
Once back at the van I decided to head over to my next port of call, near Torquay in Devon. I’d spotted loads of lanes in a smallish area, so thought I’d go check them out. The night was extremely wet though, so I spent the morning picking up parts for the bike from the Saltash KTM dealership, JD Racing, really friendly and nice people. I serviced the bike in the van, then wrote up the blog before heading out for a few lanes in the afternoon.
One thing I noticed around the lanes I drove on though, parking is a nightmare, there seem to be very few layby’s, lots of narrow roads with people racing around all the time. The folk I’ve encountered seem to be aggressive, slightly negative and a bit grumpy. Not sure what the reason is or why the change when 20 miles away people are a lot more pleasant, there must be something in the water...
My trip finished here in the south as I decided I was pining for the mountains now and a bit of solitude, so I packed up the van and drove to Rhayader, had a curry and found a beautiful place to park up next to a river for the night where I planned the next days adventures!
