Every Mile Tells A Story

The Rules: Go out for a bike ride. After each mile, get off the bike take a photo. You may not lock up the bike, so must always stay close to it. No macro lens, no long telephoto - that would be cheating!

I got my bike from the shed, opened the gate and wobbled off down the road. I was quickly clear of the little cul-de-sac where I live and turned on to the village street. I said "Good morning" to one of my neighbours who was returning home with his Sunday paper. Passed the school where I worked for twenty-odd years, then on past the church - no service today, but warnings of "Messy Church" this afternoon! I think that's what we called Sunday School, but with added paints and glue. And then I stopped at the end of my first mile....

Exactly where I stopped there was a gap in the hedge, which gave a view of the house where the composer Ralph Vaughan Williams stayed on his holidays, back in the early years of the twentieth century. I carried on till I swung into Malton Lane, a fairly minor road with not much on it - this could be an interesting challenge I've set myself. Luckily however....

...it brought me close to Malton Farmhouse and a field of highland cattle, both of which I ignored in favour of a picture of the road and three posts. My route continued between green fields of wheat and a mile of that deposited me near a house called The Retreat.

It always seems a rather lonesome place to live. I pedalled to the village of Orwell, then turned towards Barrington. You won't see any of Orwell, pleasant little place though it is, because I can't get off till I've completed my next mile. And when I did there was nothing much to get off for....

A lot of Cambridgeshire's like this; either large open fields or thick hedges. The monotony of this section was only relieved by a right-angle bend in the middle of nowhere. But, hey, it's only a mile till I get off again...

This is the track down to Trinity Farm. It's right on the edge of Barrington, one of the most picturesque villages in Cambridgeshire, and that's where I'm heading next - through the huge village green with thatched cottages gathered around it, past the village pump, the cricket field, the ponds and the church. And you can't see any of it because it's not time to stop yet. (No, I'm not that cruel; you can see it all in the post I wrote called "A Very English Village").

As luck would have it my next stop was just the other side of Barrington, near where the road crosses the river. There were lots of people out on bikes on this fine morning. As I recommenced my journey another huge group of enthusiastic cyclists sped by, all heads-down and nose to tail, and right on a sharp bend too. If something had been coming the other way......A little further along they were all stopped on the roadside as one of their number was mending a puncture. I crept quietly by, though the urge to say something about hares and tortoises was strong.

Here is where the main Cambridge to London railway crosses one of the Cambridge to London roads. That gate beside the Stop Look Listen sign automatically locks before trains come through. It was installed after a number of accidents and near-misses. I could then ride along the cycleway beside the busy A10 road. I'd soon had enough of that and turned off into Shepreth.

I clocked up the next mile near these meadows where there are often sheep and horses. I carried on through Shepreth, but again didn't get to stop till I had "come out the other side" of the village. My next pause was on the road back into my home village.

I take this to be a field of flax (or linseed), though I didn't go to investigate closely. It's appeared in a small field between the two villages. The wires in the distance are associated with the electric trains that speed through regularly. 

Well, yes, there are picture postcard cottages too. The thatcher has added a straw Pheasant to the ridgeline. I thought I'd like another photo so I took a loop around to get home. I was soon passing signs that said Road Closed, but there's always room for a bike to get through. In fact no roadworks were taking place and if they'd only moved the signs there would have been room for cars too.

Just to show you that we don't all live under roofs of thatch here are some more modern houses, just down the road from me. And if I carry on around the corner, past the school and the shop, I'll soon be home once more.

Take care.