April 1, 2022 to April 21, 2022
A change of plan
a few weeks at Ruby's
It's easy to forget how lucky you are. Seriously fatigued from a long-haul flight and having to rush with a couple of hefty suitcases to catch the planned train from Manchester after having to wait until last to collect them from the airport's carousel, a woman behind me in the queue at the train station asks if this is the right place to get a ticket. I confirm that it is.
She's a nun of about 50 and has just landed from Africa, and is clearly blind. I explain the various noises she can hear and would like to help her find her way to whatever train she needs to be on, but eventually have dash off to get my train to Lincoln. The thought of negotiating the variables of transit systems without the aid of sight hits home as I lug my cases down to Platform 1 and onto the carriage.
It's over 30 hours since I left home as my train comes to a halt at Saxilby's humble station. It's the last stop before Lincoln and serves the village where my daughter Ruby lives. As planned, she and the boys are waiting to greet me on the otherwise empty platform. It's been four long years and the boys - Charlie, now 10, and Oscar, seven - have transformed.
The plan is to have a few hours together before going over to my friend Dave's place on the other side of Lincoln, where all my stuff is stored. However, Ruby tells me earlier today he tested positive for COVID, and is now isolating, so I'll be staying at her place for a while, sleeping in Oscar's bunk.
Oscar plays for the recently formed village football team later in the afternoon and while it may be April, it feels like mid-winter, with the sun low and casting long shadows across the green playing field. Then it's a drive over to Lincoln for Charlie's swimming session. We call in at Dave's on the way home to collect some clothing that he's left outside in a box, but sorting out my bike will just have to wait.
I didn't know the boys would be off school, but they have a few weeks off for Easter and football is a constant over the following days. Oscar is with Leicester City's academy and we travel to their training facility to watch him play and also attend various other games with the local teams the boys are with. Ruby has got into cricket; there's something happening every night, and if there isn't anything organised, we think of something.
A week has gone by before I get on a bike. It's my son-in-law Alan's and it's far too small, but the boys want to get out and the weather is nice, so after raising the seat post as much as possible, the three of us pedal up the path along Mill Lane and at the edge of the village make a right turn onto a quiet back road.
There's the sound of jets zipping around right above our heads, and while the boys have seen it all before, the Red Arrows flying in tight formation in looping manoeuvres is an impressive sight and we pause to take it in, with five planes looping in arcs, leaving trails of vapour in their wake. The squadron's RAF base is just a few miles away at Scampton, on the top of an escarpment to the east, which is the direction we're riding at the moment.
The countryside hasn't woken up from its winter siesta, with leaves yet to appear on trees, but we spot daffodils here and there. That's it as far as spring is concerned and we're lucky to have a blue sky as it's chilly and I'm glad I packed a down jacket.
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We're basically 'riding around the block' - the route being a rectangular loop of a few kilometres, primarily on a couple of quiet lanes before we hit a road that has a so-called bicycle path.
The narrow lanes have no traffic, as they link just a handful of homes and it's an ideal route for the young children. Although they have mountain bikes that seem to weigh more then mine, they zip along at a fast rate, often out the saddle as if it's all a race.
Unfortunately the last segment of the loop is a 'cycle path' that has us riding into oncoming traffic on what is a very busy road - the A57. Cars come toward us at 100km/hr and my heart is in my mouth most of the time, what with seven-year-old Oscar wiggling along, stomping on the pedals, just in front of me. It's a narrow path with little room for error.
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I think they were only a fiver each on sale - they may have all gone now.
1 year ago
The change of plan proves to be a absolute blessing, what with the boys being off school for the Easter break. We spend whole days together and there are football games to attend, movies to watch, stately homes to visit, Pokemon cards to buy (Charlie) and lots of time to just hang out.
Charlie's current ambition is to be a train driver (really) and we ride to the village station hoping to see a train. There's not one due for over half an hour, so we continue out of Saxilby to a field just a short distance to the northwest of the village. A local couple bought it to create a public wild spot, named it Hardwick Scrub, and have planted saplings that will one day become a wood. A metre-wide swathe of grass has been cut around the field's outer edge and it's OK to ride along on our chunky bikes.
I've set the boys a photography challenge, with the winner getting a tenner. There are three categories which include a portrait, and Charlie wants to take one of a train driver, so we pedal back to the station, get up onto the footbridge, and wait. Eventually a train approaches and Charlie points my small Canon at the train and snaps away. We'll see if he wins.
I did some basic repairs to Ruby's bike, but it needed new brake cables and the guy at the local bike shop did various other adjustments and the bill comes to £170 - over US$200. It certainly feels like a new bike - it should do for that kind of money.
We opt to take the boys along the river bank towards Lincoln. There's a decent pub where we can get a bite to eat just a few miles away and a cycle path along the bank makes a safe route. Initially there's the sidewalk section along the busy road, but after 10 minutes we cross over and get to the river.
The river is actually a canal - the Foss Dyke - said to have been built by the Romans nearly 2,000 years ago. The path is compact gravel and is pretty smooth, and the boys keep up a decent speed on their little mountain bikes.
The pub is not yet open, so, disappointed, we turn back and stop at a private sports centre Ruby is a member of. It's adjacent to the canal and has a large dining area.
Dark clouds have gathered when we restart our ride and it seems inevitably that we're all going to get wet before long.
Rather than ride back along the sidewalk path, we veer off to go 'around the block' - on the lanes that I rode with the boys last week. It's a relief to be away from the constant flow of fast cars and 16-wheelers.
As we make our way west to Saxilby, drops of rain start to come down, but somehow or other the worst bypasses us and mercifully we stay dry.
Off the bike, it's just nice to spend time with Ruby and the boys, who willy go back to school soon. After that I'll move to Dave's house and get my bike and other stuff sorted out. Riding Alan's small bike has aggravated my carpel tunnel syndrome and at night my right arms aches. It'll be nice to ride a bike that fits me better.
It's the Easter weekend and chocolate gets hidden around the garden while the boys are playing in football games. You should never underestimate a child's appetite for chocolate. It gets a bit queasy watching them devour it.
On Wednesday the boys go back to school. The bike ride is literally just a few minutes and marks the end of this initial holiday period of mine, one that was never planned, but which turns out to have been a fantastic prelude to my touring itinerary.
Today's ride: 25 km (16 miles)
Total: 90 km (56 miles)
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1 year ago