Gateway to the next stage of a cycling life

So you’re a cyclist, just about to turn 60 years of age and your friends from the north of Nottinghamshire invite you to join them for a celebratory curry. You of course accept but how do you get there? Obvious really, turn the whole occasion into a three day gravel tour of the county. OK, it’s winter so best keep it short but having started cycle touring in the gloriously warm summer of 1976 cycle touring seemed a fitting way to mark my milestone, even a very short one. It’s just a shame I wasn’t born in June or July! Even more a shame that I currently can’t get travel insurance for medical reasons, otherwise I’d have made Spain a winter tour of my choice.

The chosen tool was not based on suitability but simply the bike I ride in winter to save my more expensive steeds from the punishment of a British winter. The main downside of this is a bike fitted with road tyres, albeit 35mm maxing out the road orientated frame form the bargain end of the Vitus range.

So with Travelodge hotels booked I have one duty to perform before setting off. That was to visit my father and wish him happy birthday also on what was his 87th such occasion. This is where the problems started, with winter bike packed and the roads dry I decided to pop up to see father on the recently refurbished ‘best bike.’ On the way back and almost home out popped another cyclist from a side path, with quick thinking I managed to dodge a head-on but not enough to stop a shoulder bump that sent us both flying. Now, I’m not going to get into the blame game but if you’re pulling out into a road check both ways. I was just giving a pedestrian a wide birth as there is no footpath on this particular stretch. This positioned me more to the right than I would normally have been and into the path of the other party to the crash. Anyhow, no injuries were evident, only a scratched derailleur but that still pained me as I like things to be perfect.

Day 1: So on a slightly downbeat note I set off on the first leg. As soon as I left the main road and made my way across Papplewick Moor the feelings of angst melted away, there’s always a joy about setting off wondering what the journey would bring. my first goal was to reach the Daffodil Tearooms for a refuel. The route there was via Blidworth then joining National Cycle Network (NCN) Route 6 followed by NCN 645. This is a course made up made up mainly of disused railway lines, the latter with a distinctive crushed red brick and perfect for fast gravel riding and good drainage in winter. At the end of NCN 645 a short road section from Bilsthorpe to Eakring saw me arrive at my halfway destination and a warm welcome. There’s one thing about being born and bred in the town of Hucknall, wherever you travel you’re bound to meet someone else from Hucknall. Whether in Spain, at an M25 service station or a village in a remote part of the UK I have often had a conversation that turns out to be with someone from Hucknall. We’re a bit like the Irish, there’s some of us in every corner of the globe. OK, I’m milking this one, it’s only 25 km from home.

Anyhow, today was no exception and the delightful member of staff (from Hucknall) chatted with me about our shared knowledge of the home town and how the tearooms were popular with cyclists, including large club groups (large groups please phone ahead). I can see why the location is popular and went on my way refreshed with food and faith in mankind. I do recommend this as a stop-off for any cycling tour of Nottinghamshire. Not only is the food good but the location is very nice and conveniently placed close to the National Cycle Network as well as surrounded by quiet lanes.

The second stage of my journey also seemed to be going well as I progressed toward the delightful village of Wellow with its tall maypole. This must be one of the tallest maypoles in the country. Passing the village green that is so typically English I took a right onto the main road before locating the intended bridlepath. This is where the route went a little off message. It was obvious from the moment that I turned into the bridleway, just east of Wellow that this was going to be a challenge. The fallen tree across the path was a fair indication of that. Having hauled my fully laden bike around the tree things started to get boggy, and then things became a little boggier. There was hope a gate followed by a gravel farm track. A few hundred meters that allowed me to remount and ride for a short while. But that did not last and having resorted to pushing once again even that became impossible. I had to fight with the stickiest of sticky mud on sticky mud lane, you get my point. Mud was jammed between fork crown and tyre, chain stay and tyre. I guess there was over one kilometre of pushing and lifting and unblocking before I finally emerged on a lane just west of the National holocaust Museum. Where I rested my bike on the truck of a fallen tree.

After a clearing off excess mud, by this time the bike was more muddy brown than white and eating a energy bar I set off on the final leg that thankfully was quiet tarmac lanes towards the Travelodge at Markham Moor. The relative ease of perambulation with a brisk tailwind was appreciated to the extent of cycling bliss. I now had a concern that the hotel would not allow such a dirty bike into the room so after surveying the petrol station opposite managed to employ their screen wash dispenser to clear away the worst of the mud.

The tidy standard room of a Travelodge, shower, enjoyable meal at the Eastern Dreamz restaurant and a good nights sleep prepared me for Day 2.

Day 2: Leaving the Travelodge on Day 2 I was greeted with a damp day. There was no rush, I had a very easy day planned reserving energy for a night out with friends in Worksop. I did however have the goal of visiting the new footbridge at Hardwick village before exploring Clumber Park.

The first section was via quiet lanes through Milton and the old road of the now demolished Bevercotes Colliery. After a few miles I arrived in Bothamsall and a stop to view Castle Hill, the remains of a Norman earth and timber works fortress. The ride from Bothamsall is also a quiet affair that emerges on the A614 Blyth Road where it is possible to cross directly onto a pleasant track that brings the cyclist or walker onto the road into Hardwick Village. Harwick is a residential village built to serve the workers of Clumber Park and established in the nineteenth century. The point of interest for me was the recently reconstructed bridge over the River Poulter. The last time I had crossed the old bridge was at least 10 years ago or longer. I recall being mesmerised watching a pike directly under the bridge. Since reconstruction much of the reed cover has been cleared leaving less cover for fish so this time the bridge felt more clinical but of course safer.

Clumber Park was established as the country estate of the Duke of Newcastle although the house itself was demolished in 1938. There remains the most incredible church that gives an indication of the wealth of the family, along with stable blocks and other buildings that now serve as visitor facilities. A born & bred socialist I’m always torn by the incredible inequity of such grand places whilst at the same time marvel at the architecture. Having such a grand church that could pass as a cathedral is a clear nod to the feudal system. It’s possible to spend hours in Clumber, now owned by the National trust. Although it can be busy on sunny summer weekends there are plenty of trails for the gravel biker to get lost in. So, after some lunch at the cafe and plenty of meandering I headed away from the park towards my destination in Worksop. NCN 6 takes one directly out of the park and into Worksop.

Worksop is a significant town with plenty of shops. It’s clearly still suffering from the economic and social impact of colliery closures and more recently the closure of the Wilko’s distribution centre that employed some 260 staff. I understand that there are plans to regenerate the town centre . The town, has rich heritage being the location of Worksop Manor, prison to Mary Queen of Scots. It was an important point on the Chesterfield Canal, it has rail connections to Sheffield and Nottingham. A proud mining district it now serves as a distribution centre due to its central location and the excellent rail and road connections.

And so, after relaxing in the Worksop Travelodge, a wash and brush-up I was ready to meet my friends from the north (Notts) for a curry and a pint. Even better that there was a surprise visit from a cycling mate of many decades who had travelled all the 65 miles from Lichfield to join us. I think I could write a whole book on my adventures with ‘Mapo!’ The night was made even better by the typical things that happen in a pub. After been mistaken for Mark Strong, whom I’d never heard of until looking him up on the internet the scenario was milked for all it was worth in school boy fashion. I shall retain the policy of anonymity rendering you, the reader unable to make your own judgement on this one. I would however pay thanks to the friendly people of Worksop for providing a source of laughter.

Day 3: The last and final day was back home to Hucknall from Worksop. It’s a route that I am mainly familiar with retracing my steps along route six and then heading east onto the outskirts of the Welbeck Estate. This is another grand estate that was the seat of the Duke of Portland. Unlike Clumber it remains in the private ownership of Welbeck Estates Limited and the residence of the Duke of Portland. This means that there is no public access beyond the established rights of way. Despite this denial of access to commoners the route through Welbeck that includes Drinking Pit lane is one of unquestionable fascination. It’s possible to imagine the countless travellers who have cut a path through the sandstone hollow. Many more have left their mark carved into the sandstone, something I would advise against. On this occasion the deep hollow was part filled with fallen leaves, protected from the elements by the steep sides and tree cover.

As though the route through Welbeck is not sufficiently enjoyable enough it then emerges onto the gravel track towards Creswell Crags. The caves there offer an insight into life 10,000 years ago. They offer educational tours and riding through I passed scores of school parties looking like mini Bob the Builders in the hi-viz jackets and yellow helmets. So ride through with respect for the many young and less able bodied visitor deserve.

The final section of note, that I’ve not written about elsewhere is the track through Poulter Country Park. Part of the Archeological Way this section of the trail utilises the Park and an old railway line. Newley discovered to myself, after a shimmy across the lanes from the A616 the route is a great off road bypass of Langwith and towards Shirebrook. After that it was the usual route back home via the Parliament Oak and the outskirts of Mansfield.

In conclusion; I made a deal with myself to stop trying too hard once I reached 60 and enjoy life at a slower pace. The unexpected onset of a medical emergency made this less of a choice and more of a reality check. There is something beautiful in the ability to transport oneself many miles without the need to rely on artificial propulsion and with little environmental impact. I recall the actor Paul Eddington speaking at a time when he faced terminal illness. Paul said he would like to be thought of as someone who did very little harm (in a world where a lot of people do a great deal of harm). As cyclists we hopefully contribute very little harm whilst finding our paths to exploration and enrichment. If I can follow that path for the remainder of my active life then I shall be a happy man.

This tour was about making a milestone doing the thing that I love, sharing an evening with good people and not breaking records or pushing my old body to exhaustion. I look forward to the next decade of cycling.