Lincoln to Worksop

May 17, 2022

via Retford

The weather is really good for mid May and I leave Dave's place at about 8:30 with a blue sky filling me with optimism.

My optimism is needed as the tour I've got planned is one my friends raise their eyebrows at, with towns such as Retford, Worksop and Scunthorpe not being places people usually opt to visit. Regardless, I'm off to explore whatever unsung gems that are hidden away here and there.

I ride through Lincoln's busy centre and get on the bike path to Saxilby, hoping Ruby will be at home so we can have a quick chat and a cuppa, but she's out when I arrive. I text her and she replies to say she's having coffee out somewhere with friends. After buying some water from the local convenience store, I take a snap of the High Street that mimics an old postcard I've seen - as best as I can - then continue riding east to Torksey. It's a tranquil route along rural back lanes.

On the riverside path between Lincoln and Saxilby

The lane leading to the village of Torksey and the viaduct across the Trent

Torksey sits on the east bank of the River Trent and on the other side it's Nottinghamshire. A canal in the village was built by the Romans and the ruins of Torksey Castle stand as further testament to the place's rich history.

On my itinerary is Torksey Viaduct, which was built in the 1840s and is regarded as the world's first box girder bridge. The railway line, like lots of others in the UK, got closed in 1959, but the viaduct was reopened as a cycle/hiking bridge in 2016. It's something I've never even seen, let alone cycled across.

Access to it is through a kissing gate that has a metal railing making it hard for bikes to squeeze through. Even with mine upended on its back wheel, it takes a lot of messing around to get past before having to lug my loaded bike up some steps and onto the long, metal structure that stands on stone columns.

There are also wooden steps on the far side and once down them there's another awkward kissing gate to grapple with to get access to what looks like farm land. There's no clear path, but the grass is short and I head in the direction my compass points as roughly southwest and just hope it leads to the village of Rampton.

After about 1o minutes of bumpy cycling I have to lift the bike and panniers over a locked farm gate to get on a rough track that soon skirts the now decommissioned Cottam power station, with its eight, huge concrete cooling towers no longer throwing up steam.

The viaduct over the River Trent is now a footbridge

The viaduct now behind me as I ride on a grassy embankment

The now dormant cooling towers of the once coal-fired Cottam Power Station

My luck must be in, as the potholed track eventually brings me out where I'd hoped - in Rampton. All Saints Church is just along the lane and once there I wheel my bike through its chunky metal gate and around to the back of the building, where I know there's a Tudor gateway that once allowed access to a manor that got demolished long ago. It's an obscure remnant of architecture, hidden away in a corner of the church grounds and you'd never see if unless you were looking. I'm glad I am.

A short distance from Rampton I make a left when I should go right and it takes me a minute or two to get my bearings on what is a road that's not my cup of tea. Thankfully it's just a few minutes before I can turn off and I then cycle north through Treswell and on to South Leverton.

The gates are closed on the railway crossing as I head to North Leverton and a high speed train zips across at a what must be 100 miles an hour. It's a sobering sensation.

Mid 16th century gateway to a demolished manor in Rampton

The Old Dovecoat in the village of North Leverton (Mid 18th century)

I take a left in North Leverton and head towards Retford

North Leverton Windmill is a place I visited years ago when I lived in this neck of the woods. I know that it only opens on weekends, so there's no disappointment to find it's closed and I just take a few snaps then start riding west along a farm track.

A man walking a dog confirms it'll lead me to the road running parallel - one which is something I want to avoid as much as possible as it's not got a shoulder and traffic is fast. He tells me the track gets a bit rough, but looks at my fat tyres and says I should be OK. The OS Map shows it as a public right of way, denoted by a pink dotted line.

The track starts to go up and while it's not really steep, the loose, stony surface makes riding hard. It's a humid day and this is hot work. Then after going through a gate it becomes very grassy and pedalling is a serious issue, so I get off and start walking. I soon see that my front tyre is flat.

Trying to repair the puncture here is a no-no, so I trek to the very end and find a large log to sit on and try to get the tyre off the rim. I fail.

What's needed is somewhere with a bit of shade, but there's nowhere around and after walking down a track that ends at the main road, I prop the bike against a metal barrier and have another go. Brute force eventually wins and I'm off cycling again.

Just 100 metres later and the tyre is completely deflated, so I find a patch of land in front of a gate to a field and set to work again, this time opting to replace the tube with a new one.

I tell myself to find a bike shop in nearby Retford and buy a new front tyre - one that'll come off easily. All this messing around has wasted over an hour and it's now well gone lunch time.

Late 18th century wrought iron balcony to 5 & 7 Grove Street, Retford

It's 3:30 and the centre of town is quiet. I pop into a supermarket in the square and get a chocolate snack and some cold bottles of drink and ask a guy working there where there's a bicycle shop and he points me to a street called Bridgegate. It's just a block away.

There's no light on and a sign on the door says it closes at 2:00, so that's that. It's then a realise I saw an old postcard of Bridgegate and soon find the same brick tower that's pictured and I take a similar snap before riding through the town.

After crossing over the railway lines, I start cycling south and spot a Coop and decide to get a sandwich and more drinks as from here there won't be a lot on offer until I reach Worksop. My route is mainly on back lanes.

The ride takes me over the A1 on a new stretch of road and get on the wonderfully named Coalpit Lane. There's a footbridge that takes me over the River Poulter, where mothers watch over children splashing around in the shallow water.

When I plotted this route is wasn't clear how easy it would be to follow, what with it being on tracks, but I do OK and find that West Drayton Avenue is just a footpath leading through woods. It's barely wide enough to ride. It leads me to the A614 and then I'm in Clumber Park.

The place is huge and with it being a bit late, there's nobody around. It's far bigger than I imagined and dusk is falling and the route becomes a bit vague. I start heading north as that's where Worksop is and end up on a gravel path that veers through woodland.

My instinct proves right and I get to the edge of Worksop and it's a case of following a few bike path signs and asking directions and as luck would have it comes close to a place I'd earmarked as a place to stay. It's nearby the old Priory and after a quick photo shoot there, I enquire about rooms. The manager tells me they now only have long-term residents and The Lion Hotel at the end of the street is fully booked, so I ride out to a Travelodge on the west side of town. It's full. Unbelievable. Worksop in mid-week.

The only other place I noted is The Station Hotel. When I get there the man behind the bar apologises that they're also full tonight and reckons it's all down to contractors working away from home now that COVID restrictions have been lifted.

The train station is right across the road and it starts raining as I walk there. There's a departure for Lincoln at 8:10 and I get a ticket back. It's a return. They're only about a quid more than a single and I will be back.

It's been a long day - too long - and I'm dead beat. I'll need a day or so to recover.

Inside the 14th century Worksop Priory Gatehouse

The northern elevation of Worksop Priory Gatehouse

Unable to find a room for the night, I take a train back to Lincoln

Today's ride: 60 km (37 miles)
Total: 529 km (329 miles)

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Keith KleinHi,
Didn’t Spike Mulligan use Scunthorp as a comic foil? I’ll be waiting to see what you turn up when you get there.
Oh, and you’re still one flat tire short of my record for a single day’s ride. Always happens late in the day, too.
Cheers,
Keith
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1 year ago

Gregory GarceauIt's always the locals who raise eyebrows about what you plan to do. The route is too familiar to them and they cannot appreciate the novelty an outsider sees. I've had it happen numerous times. I gave a big heart to the photo of you on the grassy embankment, and I sympathized with your puncture woes. My record is four in one day.
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1 year ago

Graham FinchTo Keith KleinScunthorpe could have been used as joke - it's got that reputation and most locals refer to it as Sunny Scumny. It doesn't have a lot of history for a UK town.
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1 year ago

Graham FinchTo Gregory GarceauHi, Greg

The punctures were a pain... the tyre just would not come off the rim.
Actually it was the same puncture that I had go at a few times - until I replaced the tube.

I used to live in this area and know the reputation these places have, but I have a soft spot for them probably because they so maligned. It was the same when I lived near Detroit - a US city that's my spiritual home, but one that few people want to visit.
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1 year ago