Author Topic: Winter ride through the heart of Essex  (Read 2375 times)

Wowbagger

  • Former Sylph
    • Stuff mostly about weather
Winter ride through the heart of Essex
« on: 20 December, 2008, 07:33:41 pm »
How true it is that the best things are to be found where you least expect them, and after a grim autumn full of the most unwelcoming weather for a cyclist, and a week's illness, Annie and I decided that it had been too long since our last sojourn. So it was that we met at Marks Tey, roughly half-way between our respective abodes and perfectly placed for instant countryside.

There was a head-wind, it's true, but not strong enough to make us feel buffeted, and after a brisk eight miles we reached the first port of call, the Coggeshall Garden Centre, where first-rate cake and coffee are to be had. Annie had something coconuttish with her latté whereas I indulged in one of the biggest slabs of chocolate cake I have ever had to work my way through.

Coggeshall is a very fine town with plenty of history. Perhaps the most impressive building is Paycocke House, dating from the early 16th century, but there are also several pubs. However, they were not for us today, so laden with calories we headed south and west along Audax Road, with sand and gravel pits all around. We noticed that there was an occasional field of unharvested maize and we wondered why it had been left. As we approached Fuller Street and the scene of mayhem which had been the Essex Boys' Christmas Friday Night to the Pub a week or so ago, our question was answered. There, like tweedy scarecrows with labradors, were gentry with guns as the serfs beat their way through the maize shelter and sent the pheasants and partridges towards their avian Somme.

We stopped for a brief look at Great Leighs Church, glowing in the solstice-eve sun, but sadly it was locked, and from there we headed towards Boreham, more glistening gravel pits and the Cock Inn. Through the village, out towards Little Baddow Church and then we gradually climbed towards Elm Green Lane.

As everyone knows, Essex is completely flat. However, on the north side of Danbury Hill there are some excellent views to be had over ancient woodland and Chelmsford beyond. Climb a little higher and you reach Great Graces, a magnificent farm with some of the finest barns you are ever likely to meet - except someone has turned them into a luxury house. The last time I passed this way, only a few months ago, I did not notice this conversion and I feel sure that I would have done. It is probably a better use of the building than as a barn which serves no purpose in the 21st century, but it still comes as a bit of a shock when something solid and reliable which one has known for about half one's life suddenly changes almost out of recognition. Graces Walk was as beautiful as ever, a well-maintained bridleway leading down through an avenue of (beech?) trees towards the Chelmer a mile or so away.

As we passed Danbury Lakes we had magnificent views to the south, towards Hanningfield Reservoir and now with the sun on our backs we made our way directly towards the Cricketers pub, resplendant with a veritable tumescence of hand-pumps all serving one or other variety of Shepherd Neame beer. Going with the flow, I ordered a sausage baguette whilst Annie had tuna.

At about 2 p.m. we set off again, this time with the wind at our backs. We were almost, but not quite, brave enough to remove articles of clothing, but neither of us had been 100% in the respiratory department recently so we decided just to make the most of the balmy, mild winter's weather and take no chances. We climbed to Eves Corner and then headed north to the Ridgeway (no, not the real one) and North Hill.

The breeze and warmth had been doing a pretty good job of drying the roads, so for the first time I allowed the bike just to go. We descended about 300 feet in under two miles and by the time we reached Paper Mill Lock and the tea rooms I had registered a little over 36 mph, a bit disappointing for such a long descent, but fun nonetheless.

As ever, the post-lunch cycling was the easiest and we made excellent time. Wickham Bishops also boasts a reasonable ascent - like Danbury, the hill is made of glacial deposits marking the most southerly extent of the last ice-age, apparently - and the church looks very impressive. However, the climbing is relatively easy and before long there we were, alongside the church. Then on to Great Braxted and the massive brick wall keeping intruders out of Braxted park. This was the scene of many a day's anging in my youth, the lake teeming with fish. I recall catching 63 roach and rudd in an hour there once, most of which went into our keep-net to be used later as bait for the large pike in the lake. We never caught anything especially big there, but we did have our keep-net attacked and almost dragged away by an unseen specimen of esox lucius.

Hardly a minute went by along this stretch without us disturbing a covey of partridges so, in seasonal mood as we were, we sang all the way to Twelve. I don't think there was anyone to witness this mellifluous medley of melody, which I have to say was their loss.

The sun was heading towards the horizon as we approached Copford but there was time for a visit to the Alma pub, just a mile or so from Marks Tey station. Having already had my beer quota for the week I ordered ginger beer for myself whereas Annie really pushed the boat out with a J2O.

The only unpleasant moment of this otherwise superb day was trying to get back to the station across a busy dual carriageway. Annie did the right thing by continuing cycling to the roundabout but I lost my nerve, pulled over into a bus layby and then waited for an age for a gap in the traffic for me to cross to the station. We said our farewells and within a few minutes I was on the train home with the promise of a repeat performance in the near future.

54.8 miles at a moving of average of 11.4 mph. 36.8 mph max speed.

Route


Great Leighs Church.


Aled Jones woz 'ere.
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