The Little Stars Of Steam

I had some discussion with myself about whether to go to another steam rally so soon after the last one. But the weather forecast was good and the Bedfordshire Steam and Country Fayre is the largest rally in these parts. Probably one of the biggest in the country now that the one in Dorset hasn't taken place for a couple of years. But then there's another smaller show at Stotfold very soon - though it could be a wet weekend. Maybe I could concentrate on some different subjects, like the scale model steam engines. Perhaps the Cornish pasty seller will be there. OK, lets go.

 

Most of these photos are just quick snapshots as they sped past. The owners of these little beauties make full use of the 700 acre site at Old Warden. And if some of your friends pile on the back it's even more fun. You rarely find them standing still, unless they are parked near one of the bars or food stalls. Some models are built from scratch, but many are assembled from kits, though even that seems to be a considerable undertaking. They come in various sizes, from half-size models down to one-sixth scale. And they can cost as much as a car - not counting your time. The ones below are more within my budget!

Take care.

Versions Of A Walk

Sometimes the kind of walk you enjoy depends on other factors than where you go and what kind of weather you get. Sometimes my walks vary according to the version of myself that sets out to explore the countryside.

The first living creature encountered on this walk was a Red Admiral butterfly feeding on the ivy. For whatever reason butterflies have been scarce on my travels this summer, and those I have met made it clear they had no intention to linger. But this was an odd day weather-wise - chilly, breezy, but with warm sun in sheltered spots. This little creature was too busy lapping up nectar and sunshine to take much notice of me.

Just across the water from Amwell Nature Reserve there's a wood. The birdwatchers who gather here know that on sunny days there are often birds of prey riding the thermals above the treetops. I once saw seventeen Common Buzzards circling there. It may have been that day when I first set off to see if there was a way into the wood, for if there are birds of prey then there will be other creatures present too.

So I must have soon passed this delightful scene, known as Tumbling Bay according to the map. On that first occasion I was looking for birds and probably encountered a selection of the more common wildfowl. This time, although I had an eye out for birds, my mind was more set on searching for pretty pictures.

And butterflies of course! This one allowed me even closer.

We were briefly sidetracked towards Hollycross Lake, which is sometimes a place for dragonflies - or water voles, if you're lucky. Not too bad scenically either.

And then we followed the valley of the River Ash for a while. Jays were calling and to my ear sounded as if they were complaining about the injustice of it all. Meanwhile a Buzzard mewed in its sympathetic but world-weary way. You can actually see the Buzzard in the centre of the shot, just above the trees. There's a peculiarly English beauty to this section of the walk, despite the presence of earth-moving machinery and chain-saws down beside the river. Or more accurately BECAUSE of said machines; they are involved in a long-term project to restore this chalk-stream.

This Comma butterfly maybe appreciates the combined efforts of the Wildlife Trusts and the farmer to tip the balance more in nature's favour. If I'd had my documentary or environmental head on I'd have taken photos of the way they are encouraging the river to meander, but today I was searching out those pretty views.

That's looking back and you can see that we are circling the "buzzard wood", which is on the left as we see it in the above photo. And, just as I discovered all those years ago when first I came this way, it's protected by little signs saying "Private Property". There's also a sign on the road which proclaims that it's a Christian college, though the buildings are completely hidden by the trees. 

There's something about the farms and fields around here that shouts to me that this was once all part of a big estate, probably centred on that large building, now a college, in among the trees. As we walked around the wood this was more or less confirmed by stylish houses called "North Lodge" and "South Lodge" on the roads leading in; these were the old gatekeepers' lodges. Other similar buildings on the periphery probably housed gamekeepers or perhaps farm managers.

The version of me who looks for birds and the one intent on taking photographs never investigated further, but this time I had Les with me and he asked a few questions which sent me off on a romp through the internet when I got home. But not before I'd photographed this Speckled Wood butterfly, another fluttering friend who was soaking up the September sun.

What I found online was that Easneye Mansion was built for Sir Thomas Fowell Buxton in 1868. His father, who had the same name and title, was responsible for eventually getting the Emancipation of Slaves bill through parliament, having been entrusted to do so by the ailing William Wilberforce. Buxton had made his fortune like many in this area from the brewing industry, but the family soon turned their attention to good works. In fact brewing porter was seen at the time as being beneficial to society as it was considered less harmful than gin, which was creating huge problems in nineteenth century London.   

The Buxtons were social reformers who were also involved in missionary work and so it was that Easneye Mansion became a Christian college aimed at creating a new kind of missionary who liaised with existing religions in far-off lands rather than trying to change beliefs. For some reason I remembered an elderly couple by the name of Buxton who lived near my mother. He was a very learned gentleman and despite a fairly modest lifestyle it was obvious that both were well-educated and came from a privileged background. A few clicks of the mouse confirmed that they were indeed related to the Easneye Buxtons. But it was not their money or learning that impressed my mum: it was their simple kindness.

The mansion is one of those heritage buildings which can not be viewed by the general public as far as I can discover. However no such restrictions apply to the Jolly Fishermen pub, just down the road in Stanstead Abbots. It was the hungry version of my brother and I that devoured substantial meals within.

Take care.

When The Hoss Was Boss

The foolish human that usually writes this blog went to the Steam Rally on Saturday last weekend and so missed the Heavy Horse show which took place on the Sunday. Something about weather forecasts, he said.

Luckily a few of us were there all weekend giving demonstrations of old-time farming methods. You can see it was cool and a little misty early in the morning.

Some would rather pose for pictures than get on with the hard graft of farm work.

Better show willing once in a while.

Then it's time to show our best side once again.

Time for lunch.

Just one more gorgeous photo then we have to get back to work.

*******

Les also took some video on his phone of some other "big beasts" leaving the main arena...

Take care.

Motorbikes At A Steam Show

It sounds all wrong, for as far as I know the steam motorcycle has yet to be invented, but it still makes perfect sense to me. Motorbikes were a huge part of growing up around here in the 1950s and 60s. I often would visit friends in the village to find them with a motorbike in bits in the shed - or on one memorable occasion in the kitchen; their mother having gone out for the afternoon.

That particular episode did not end well, though the mechanical expertise gained piecemeal in teenage years must have given a head start to those who later turned their hands to restoring the kind of vehicles on display at Haddenham Steam Rally.

There were grass-roots motorbike sports too. "Scrambling" or "moto-cross" was racing stripped-down bikes over rough and often muddy terrain. In summer "grasstrack racing" was a low-cost version of "speedway". Men like Dave Bickers, Andy Lee and Badger Goss became heroes to those who cared little about footballers or pop stars.

"Motorcycle trials" is a different kind of sport. It's not a race but depends on successfully negotiating a seemingly impossible obstacle course. Penalty points are incurred if you put a foot to the ground. "Dabbing" was the term used for putting a foot down and a group self-deprecatingly known as Dabbers Trials Club were on hand to demonstrate. 

The beauty of trials is that you can pitch it at whatever standard you choose. You don't have to risk life or limb, or even wreck your bike. Many just like to amuse themselves pottering around a course of their own devising on farm tracks or around disused chalk pits.

Proper trials bikes are stripped down to the bare essentials and kept as light as possible - they don't even have a saddle, as competitors ride standing up to maintain better balance and control.

But the Dabbers Club also like to ride vintage machines. While looking online I noticed that a man called Dougie Lampkin was seven times the world trials champion in the early 2000s. Now that surname is one I recall from way back. Sure enough, Dougie is the nephew of Arthur Lampkin, a well-known moto-cross rider back in the 1960s.

But when Midsummer Fair was on in Cambridge the place to congregate was over by the "Wall of Death".

The Wall of Death originated in the USA and was imported to these shores in the late 1920s. It's said that at one time there were ten of them built along the Skegness sea front in order to train riders to perform at Billy Butlin's Holiday Camps. The Fox family was involved from the outset and has continued to this day. 

The Wall consists of a wooden cylinder which the bikes ride around, held up by friction and centrifugal force. I think they only go around 30 miles per hour (around 50 kph) but in a tight, confined space with the noise echoing around it looks much faster.

They even take a go-kart around. In the early days they sometimes used a bike with a sidecar and took lions and bears on the Wall - or else they had a monkey that balanced on the fuel tank. Needless to say - that doesn't happen any more.

Going up to meet the audience.

Setting a bad example to the younger generation!

What would you like me to do next?

No problem!

Three for the price of one.

Teamwork!

Les caught some video on his phone.....

Take care.