hunting for routes

Around my local area there are loads of leisurely cycle routes, and a few well trodden mountain bike trails. That's all very well, but I really do like to explore, to find out new things, to go places where nobody's been for a long time, and to believe I've achieved something slightly different.

I was looking for a suitable new route on the map when I noticed that there's a dismantled railway running from Randalstown to Toome. There's not much information available about it on the internet (which is good from an exploration point of view) except that it originally went from Randalstown to Cookstown, was built in 1856 and closed sometime around 1959. On the map it does run all the way to Cookstown, but there are significant sections missing.

The most obvious monument to the railway's existence is the amazing viaduct in Randalstown, so I started there. The viaduct is now part of one of those leisurely cycle routes and it just joins up with the main road, the original railway having had houses built over it. Following the route on the map a bit further
I did find part of the railway, at the point indicated by the blue arrow, but by that time it was dark. Looking down on it from above, by the light of my bike light, it looked like impenetrable jungle. I couldn't even see through the trees to get an idea whether there would be a rideable track on the ground.

My curiosity has been aroused, so I'll go back later and see how much of this dismantled railway is accessible. Who knows, I might find out new things and achieve something slightly different.

what a week!

I rode to work on Monday - it took an hour and a half in the rain, and I got drenched. I was wearing my spd shoes which I haven't done for a while. They make the pedalling easier, but it was a bad choice of day to start using them - they're about as waterproof as a mosquito net.
On Wednesday my schedule said I had to do some cross training so I swam in the Mediterranean and ran on the beach in Larnaca for half an hour. I wish I'd had a mosquito net there - I've got some impressive bites.
Then yesterday I did two hours on the mountain bike, riding along the sixmile water, Rae's wood, Antrim's castle gardens, the cycle path to Randalstown, before riding home in the dark.

What's that I hear you say? Larnaca? Oh, yes. I'd some business to do in Cyprus, so I flew out on Tuesday and back on Sunday. It certainly made Wednesday's cross training a bit more pleasant.

self supported

I splashed out and bought Tim Woodcock's "book" on the coast to coast ride. I put book in inverted commas because it's more of a short log with some hand-drawn maps and advice on how to prepare and undertake an off road coast to coast ride. It's still good though.

I said from the beginning that this ride was to be self supported. I assumed that would mean we'd have to camp out at least some of the time, which is why I've got whole posts dedicated to what kit would be best for a night in the wilds.

Having read Tim's book and some others, and watched a few youtube videos of a group tackling the route, I'm beginning see what Martin's been telling me for weeks:

This ride isn't across Canada. It's not even across Scotland. In fact, if we were cycling across wee Ireland we'd probably want to be prepared to camp out at least once; but this ride is across England.

I don't know much about England, but it would appear from what I've read and seen that there's a country pub, or a youth hostel, or a bed and breakfast perched on every available flat surface.
People in England don't carry food or water when they travel, they just wait until they're hungry and pop into the next pub they pass to eat a hearty lunch (with ginger beer and lashings of whipped cream, if some of the books I've been reading are accurate) before setting off to continue their adventure.
In fact if my new, better informed, vision of England is correct, we'll have to choose our routes carefully to avoid crashing into youth hostels and pubs on our way down from every inaccessible peak - instead of just at lunch time and at night when we want to crash in the "falling into bed after a physically exhausting day" sense of the word.

This is a bit of a weight off my mind - and my bike - and it means we'll be able to enjoy the exceptional off-road riding better than if we were carrying sleeping kit, pots, pans and food.

I might still squeeze a proper self-supported overnight journey into my training though.

the things you remember.

I already said I found Gideon's green today, That's not the only place I discovered.
Cycling through Duncrue Industrial Estate, Of course I got lost, but I found a few ancient dry docks and hundred-and-fifty-year-old shipping warehouses that have been converted to offices.
It's easy to forget that in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, Belfast was a major player in the Industrial Revolution, home to the world's biggest shipbuilders (Harland & Wolff employed 35,000 people), the world's largest rope works, and was the largest linen producing centre in the world. Shorts was the first aircraft manufacturing company in the world. Sirocco Works (once the largest engineering plant in the world) was the place where Air Conditioning was first developed in its current form, and the Royal Victoria Hospital was the first building in the world to have air conditioning installed.

Red & yellow brick, white granite, and green copper - Belfast is actually quite interesting. I wonder if there's a self-guided city cycle tour. Maybe I could create one.

hallucinations

I decided to come in a slightly different route to work today.
I knew that there's a cycle path along the side of the M2, so I thought I'd have a look for it. From Glengormley, I headed down towards the lough, turned onto the shore road towards Whiteabbey. I wasn't quite sure how to get across the railway line and the motorway to reach the cycle path, but I ducked under the first bridge I found, out into Gideon's Green, which I'd never seen before. Then along a path where there's another bridge going under the M2. Surprisingly simple.

I was just up to speed when a hefty redheaded girl came up behind me ting-tinging her bell and forced me to swerve towards a dog-walker as she bombed past on her Raleigh. at first I was a bit miffed that she was going faster than me, but then I realised she cycles the way my mother-in-law drives - get to top gear as soon as possible and leave it there no matter how much the engine labours.

I soon reeled her in on the next incline and pulled alongside for a chat. "Hello" says I. she glanced at me and said nothing. "Beautiful day". silence. It was the strangest thing. She completely blanked me. As we rode along, side by side, beautiful scenery, lovely weather, not another soul in sight, she just kept pedalling as if I wasn't even there. When we got to the end of the path she stopped, turned and headed back the way we'd come. Maybe she wasn't real. Maybe I'd had too much lucozade sport.

seeking sanctuary

On Thursday I had to burn a pile of DVDs for the women's organisation in church - but I was also scheduled to do 30 minutes cross training.
I'm an inventive soul, so I decided to combine the two.
Our church buildings are a modern sort of design, with the meeting house, two halls and various rooms all joined by corridors around a central atrium.
It takes our DVD printer about two minutes to print an image onto a disc.

I decided to find out how many times I could run round the corridors before a disc had fully printed.

So Disc in printer, press the start button, out the door, down 3 steps , along the corridor, through the corridor's swing doors, down 4 more steps, through the doors at the back of the main hall, left, along the long wall of the hall, through the hall's side door, fast as I could run past the kitchen and up the longest corridor, sharp left past the entrance to the sports hall, past the Committee room on the right and Session room on the left, up the 5 steps and round the decorative woodwork and up the three steps into the meeting house.

The disc had loads still to print, so the next disc I did two circuits, then three, then four and finally five. so if anybody ever asks you, it's possible to run round our church buildings five times between loading discs into the printer.

45 minute road cycle

The training schedule called for a 45 minute road cycle on Saturday. It worked well, because I'd a meeting in Ballyhenry church, which is 11 miles (or 45 minutes) away. Perfect.

Of course when you ride for 45 minutes in one direction there's no option but to turn round and ride another 45 minutes to get home.

hard decision

I made a hard choice this week. The padwork in kung fu hurts, and not in a good way. I can't punch hard because on the impact I can feel the bones in my wrist crunch. Another problem I found is that my wrist's limited range of motion means I can't even be a decent sparring partner.

I've given it up.

It's a pity because it was a good way to get an hour's workout into the week, and the circuits were challenging, and I could feel my body getting used to it.

On the bright side, the nights are getting shorter, so there's more opportunity to ride.

I've a bit of a hamstring niggle after Monday's effort, so tomorrow's cross training will be mostly upper body work.

ill advised

On Monday, with the ba in tow I decided to take a shortcut home along a section of singletrack that I usually ride when I'm starting out for a quick evening ride. Normally it's mostly down hill and I'm usually on the mountain bike. On Sunday I was taking it up the hill on the hybrid with the trailer behind me.

It was hard going, with the wheel spinning in the mud and branches slapping against me and the trailer, the ba looking round her totally bewildered, thinking I'd lost my mind. Every time a particularly big branch cracked against the trailer I'd look round to check she was OK. She wasn't fazed, just sitting there taking it all in.

At the top of the track when I was turning out onto the road I looked around and asked her if she was OK. She looked me in the eye, gave me a wee nod, and we went on our way.

rebel yell

I was off work today, and got left holding the baby - literally.
So I bundled her up, plonked her into the bike trailer and headed off.
the attachment for the trailer's on my hybrid bike, so I ignored the training schedule's 15 minute off-road ride (15 minutes? that's not training! it's a nip down the shop to buy a pint of milk!) and opted for a longer ride, mostly on paved paths. I must've ridden for over an hour with the ba sitting happily taking in the world around her; and dragging a steel trailer behind has got to be considered good training.
There's a new sign up by the sixmile water trail which looks something like this:
Now I find that offensive.
Can we please have a sign that says "No Walking" too? or "No Breathing"?
What I find most annoying is that I'll only see the sign when I'm plodding along on my retro road bike causing nobody any harm - in this case with a one-year-old in tow.
When I'm tearing up the singletrack along that stretch of river, being a menace to society and risking the life and limbs of myself and all who may be unfortunate enough to come across me, the chances are that I'll get there along some rabbit track through the trees and burst out on any unsuspecting passers-by without ever passing one of those detestable notices.

today I disobeyed the sign. I hope I haven't introduced my infant child to a life of crime and rebellion against authority.