Bank Holiday Relaxation
Another Bank Holiday crept up on me without me
knowing, how so? Well after a month of coughing, visits to the doc’s, and
drowning in self pity I had little time to focus on holiday weekends.
The intrusion of a spell of welcome summer
weather lifted my spirits, the Bank holiday Monday being the first truly fine
day for us hardy northerners. Such an opportunity to enjoy it could not be missed.
Still nursing my, almost beloved by now, chest
infection, I planned a trip over to Higher Walton and the Bon Appetit cafe
there. My route would be nice, almost traffic free, and picturesque.
Into Lever Park Avenue and I am inspired by the
area we, as local cyclists take for granted, an area of natural beauty, or as
Ordnance Survey would abbreviate, AONB.
With a light summer breeze and the sun on my
back I drift through Rivington, past the Barn and the village green, down to
the reservoirs followed by a right turn into The Street at Horrobin Cottage.
It’s is very quiet today, who would think it was a Bank Holiday with just a
couple of dog walkers on this very attractive lane by the reservoir.
Out of The Street and onto Back Lane, again
it’s quiet, this time just a couple of horse riders to divert my attention from
the sheer enjoyment of the day, to which was added the pleasure of being able
to dress in short sleeve top and shorts, both lycra of course.
I enjoy the rapid swoop and shade as I pass
under the mighty motorway bridge feathering my front brake as I synchronise my
rapid moving legs with the fixed gear of the rear wheel. I flash back into the
sun emerging from the shadows of the bridge, momentum carrying me up the slight
rise to the T junction at Limbrick.
At the top of the hill that comes out of
Cowling the sign indicating the canal side route to Botany Bay is there and now is a designated
cycle route.
The canal path is a bit busier than any part of
my route up to now, dog walkers, walkers and the odd cyclist or two, one of
whom made my day.
I had just reached the bridge before Botany Bay and slowed as the cyclist on a
mountain bike in front of me dismounted and began to kick his back wheel
furiously, once, twice, three times before wheeling his bike forward under the
bridge. Naturally I viewed with some amusement and passed aside to the guy, ‘if
it won’t move, hit it’, he smiled and accepted my offer of assistance. All that
was wrong was a loose wheel nut on the drive side of his back wheel. A simple
job for the spanner that I carry for the same reason, tightening loose nuts.
The guy was just out for a morning spin enjoying the beautiful morn, no tools,
no pump, no spares, what could possibly go wrong on a day like today. I smiled
inwardly, a good deed done, a good deed appreciated loudly.
Nearing the Top Lock pub at Wheelton the
towpath was considerably busier as walkers made their way to the popular spot,
no doubt anticipating a shandy or two, too early for me as I left the canal at
this point and continued to Top O’th Lane
It’s a bit of a pull on fixed gear up to Top O’th Lane
After Brindle I can look forward to a nice long
downhill through Gregson Lane
A look at my heart rate monitor tells me I’m
still alive and kicking and after a break of 45 minutes it tells me I’m ready
to go, again, but after deciding I’m leaving via the steep hill, short but
sharp up to Bamber Bridge I’m not too sure. I hate setting off after a break at
any time but when there’s a hill straight away I dread it.
The weather is still warm and fine and as I do
not intend to kill myself on the way home I will continue to enjoy the ride,
even the chest infection is behaving, very little coughing up to now, perhaps
it is enjoying the summer breeze as well.
Eventually I am on the well trodden A6
accompanied by years and years of memories, times as a young lad hanging on the
back of a group, times when I could not, and times when I have been the
strongest on the ride, the A6 never fails to stir the old grey cells.
I reach the top of the hill by the Mormon
church and take another break, a nice stone flag at a gate serves nicely as a
comfortable seat in the sun. I sit quietly and idly observe the passing traffic,
quite light really, unlike the adjacent motorway where from a bridge I saw the
usual Bank Holiday scene of hundreds of cars crawling along with drivers still
convinced they were out for a nice drive. Occasionally a lycra clad lad or two
would pass looking for all the world like they were training, suffering they
may have been, but not as much as the drivers stuck on the motorway.
Two gels
and a few long swigs from my bottle and I am ready for the easy drop into
Chorley, opting to take the ‘old A6’ instead of the new whacky race track that
is supposedly a town bypass, a real pleasure and stress reliever after the
short main road stretch. Easing down into the town centre I am struck by the
central reservation overflowing with tulips, a considerable attraction to the
old road as it reaches the park opening to Astley Hall.
Leaving Chorley behind I have a feeling I’m almost home, not
far to go now and the long drags up to Adlington and the Millstone pub are
hardly a distraction as I continue to ride easily and slowly.
As ride beside the reservoir I reflect how few
cyclists I have seen, perhaps eight or nine at the most all day. An elderly
couple leisurely making their way to a canal side picnic spot, a mountain biker
getting a kick out of his morning ride, two or three gliding past the cafe as I
enjoyed my lunch and the couple of boy racers shooting past the Mormon church while
I rested up. Cycling may well be on the up again but today I’m wondering where
they all where.
I arrive home happy with the short ride I’ve
done but as I relax with a drink, tea of course, the cough returns, ah well at
least I had respite during the ride so it must have done me good.
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