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Answering the Clarion Call
David Owen - 11th June 2023 (with thanks to John Boardman for supplying photos). From Penny Farthings to the safety cycle, from single speed gearing to electronic shifting, the ethos of cycling remains the same today as it was in 1894, with the founding of the Clarion Cycling Club and the moral compass of its 10 “commandments.” The longest surviving Clarion House, nestling in the hills above of Nelson, was the objective for a testing 112kms. ride with 2,000 metres of overall ascent. The organisations founding socialist principles may jar with many but whatever your political persuasion, the shared joy of pedaling cuts across political tribalism. Then and now, cyclists and walkers have made this their Sunday refueling stop. On June 11th, 2023, those same groups and the curious were brought together for the annual mass gathering. We may not be putting in 10-hour shifts “down pit” or “in’t mill” but the need for breathing space is as relevant today as it was to the grafters in the mills and factories which so dominated the north Lancashire landscape. Who wouldn’t argue with the humble bike as “as a means of throwing off the shackles of industrial life and spending a weekend or a week of freedom on their own communal undertaking.” (i) We are much more open today about good mental health, about mindfulness, work-life balance and perhaps most important of all, friendship. So, it was from the charmingly named Clarionettes that a socialist movement sprang up, centred around Lancashire, Yorkshire and Cheshire, offering respite from the daily grind. Whilst we might not have been singing The Red Flag as we cycled to Clarion House near Newchurch in Pendle, the thought of free sandwiches and cakes was motivation enough. The diminutive wooden structure, built in 1912, has even found fame in one of Michael Portillo’s railway journeys. As an ex-Tory Minister he may have been a little wary of stepping into the red laird but no worries, all are welcome by the volunteers at Clarion House. The growth of the railways enabled mobility for the masses, and it coincided with demand for teashops like Clarion House as folks sought out natural beauty away from the crowds and industrialisation. The bicycle also became a means of escape and by 1933, 49 of “Official Clarion Caterer” signs could be found on 49 sites ready to serve the weary pedaller. It wasn’t peculiarly British either, in Germany the Wandervogel movement encouraged exploration in the countryside and grew rapidly after the First World War. The German Worker Cyclist Federation (Arbeiter-Radfahrer-Bund) followed a similar path during the Weimar years and became the largest cycling association in the world and even today has over 40,000 members. |
Clarion House in all it's June glory.
We may have had complimentary sandwiches and a pint of tea costing 70p but it still didn’t entirely take the edge off our return leg to Burton. The temperature had been building from early on, and as we rode under the shadow of Pendle Hill the sun did its best to reflect a witches cauldron of heat from the tarmac below. It had been a unique experience to see the commitment of the volunteers to maintaining the fabric of a building that sums up all that’s good about fellowship, irrespective of political hue.
(i) Extract from research by the late Melvyn Hirst |
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Tour de Skiddaw
David Owen - 6th March 2022 The Blencathra & Skiddaw massifs guard the eastern gateway into Keswick: on a sparkling March morning they presented a widescreen panorama for the start of our planned 55-mile anti-clockwise circuit around their flanks. We headed for Mungrisdale on minor roads and the sunlit crags of Bannerdale. Hesket Newmarket and Caldbeck next with a planned coffee stop beside Whelpo Beck and Muddy Ducks outdoor café. Could the cat teasing a desperate mouse on the adjacent lawn be an omen of the struggle to come on the climb up the Longlands Fell Road? Hopefully not. But it did reveal a view as far as Melvyn Bragg’s hometown of Wigton and the Solway Firth. A touch of serendipity is always welcome on our rides, today was no exception as we discovered a perfectly timed lunch stop at the converted primary school in Uldale. We sat like obedient kids around a communal table, but teacher wasn’t around to let us play with the plasticine today. I ordered a toasted sandwich instead. South now above Bassenthwaite lake and the little used road through Oakfield, Milbeck and Applethwaite. It clings to the side of Skiddaw and is pitched at the right height to open up views south towards Derwent Water. We entered Keswick through the tradesman’s entrance and took the railway cycle track up to Threlkeld. This was a first-time for us all and we were impressed with the dramatic cutting alongside the river Greta. Restored since Storm Desmond, it’s smooth tarmac all the way to the cycle track beside the A66. The final leg completed the circuit around to Mungrisdale and the cars anticipating our return in Penruddock. Riders: Ian, Phil, Steve, Taff, Tim & David. |
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Lonsdale Wheelers Back in Mallorca
Taff - October 2021 Finally after 18 months of covid cancellations and re-bookings, eight Wheelers were back in Mallorca earlier this month for a week of classic cycling. On this occasion we rented a couple of houses in the more centrally located town of Porreres with a view to riding some different routes. Cycling in Mallorca never disappoints and following months of frustration it was inevitably a committed full-on week. The team rode more than 600 km in six days; including discovering a few new areas and returning to ride some of the iconic Mallorcan classics. With two Mallorcan ‘first-timers’ in the party we couldn’t miss Sa Calobra, or indeed the ride out to the Formentor lighthouse and the Bunyola-Orient loop. Sa Calobra is a tiny coastal village on the NW edge of the Serra de Tramuntana with only one land route in and back out again. The Sa Calobra descent from Coll dels Reis is 10 km of snaking hairpins, 26 in all, carved out of the mountainside and descending 670m to the beach. The average gradient over the 10 km is a relatively modest 7% and the road surface is surprisingly good. The views are breath-taking though maybe tempered by the thought that you have to ride back up the same way. After an ice cream at the bottom it’s either push on back up and try for a personal best…or just quietly tap it out and take it all in. The term ‘iconic’ is probably overused – but this ride is almost certainly on every cyclist’s bucket-list. The October weather turned out to be perfect – temperatures in the low to mid-20s and back riding in short sleeves. Less than 48 hours after returning to the UK next year’s trip to Mallorca was already booked! |
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The winged wheels of Askrigg & cake in Keld
David Owen - May 2021 It’s so good to witness the current renaissance in road cycling in all its forms, whether harnessing 100% muscle power or accepting a helping hand from battery driven pedal assist systems. However, it’s all too easy to bowl along with hardly a glance left or right, never mind a surreptitious look up. For example, on a recent ride with Lonsdale Wheelers tackling Wensleydale, Swaledale & the forbidding Tan Hill climb, I made sure to check out Sykes’s House in Askrigg, just on the right as the road climbs a little through the village. Attached to the wall above this café & B & B is a piece of cycling heritage from the 1880’s: the iconic “winged wheels” symbol of the original CTC (Cyclist Touring Club) club badge. The heavy 24”cast iron club logo is securely bolted to the wall of the property built in 1687. It’s a sentimental nod to the history of Cycling UK, as the CTC are now known, one of the UK’s original cycling organisations. Just like present day signs of approval from the likes of the AA or RAC, it denoted a worthy establishment for the weary cycle tourist. It’s interesting to note that like the AA & RAC, the CTC in its present day form of Cycling UK is still only one of 3 independent organisations with the authority to erect road signs, although rarely used today. Cycling at that time was not only a means of transport but also, as it is today, a passport to freedom. Our gritty forbears had heavy & often very rudimentary bikes but that didn’t deter them from epic day rides & multi-day trips. In many ways nothing has changed, yes we have better gear (a lot better) but our bodies are soon found wanting if energy expended exceeds calories in. Without sustenance those wheels ain’t going to be so “winged.” So, next time you ride through Askrigg take a nostalgic look at the sign as you enjoy a guilt free pit stop. One of the great advantages of travelling at the pace of the touring cyclist is the serendipity of taking the road less travelled. Who on a casual car journey would be aware of another quirk of the Dales found on that same ride? Even on a bike it’s all too easy to flash past the small village of Keld because it’s a minor diversion off one of the most notable of descents from Tan Hill back into lower Swaledale. Benefiting both cyclist & walker, Keld village hall is a little gem because in normal times (remember those?) it offers a self-service honesty box café with cakes made by the local community. I’ll let you decide if climbing Tan Hill & Buttertubs in quick succession justifies a glimpse of a piece of cast iron & an instant coffee in a creaky village hall. It certainly made me happy. |
Graphic design back in the day: the Winged Wheel.
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Mallorcan Magic
David Owen - February 2022 Mallorca has been the road cyclists’ antidote to a cold and wet Britain for over half a century. If you fly south in the earlier months of the year you’ll find a certain esprit de corps in the air, the kind of atmosphere that a skier finds in the Alps, or a motorcyclist feels during the Isle of man TT. The varied terrain and network of minor roads offer tremendous route choices, especially if you base yourself more to the middle of the island rather than on the coast. The village and town cafes are there to capitalise on this off-season migration of northern Europeans with a mix of café con leche, apple tart and the convenience of a bike parking rail. More to the point, this is mountain country. The map of Mallorca reveals how most of the north of the island, stretching almost entirely east to west, comprises rugged limestone crags contrasting with cool green pine clad hillsides. Lonsdale Wheelers have enjoyed several trips in both Spring and early Autumn. So, let me whet your appetite with musings from one of those inland routes: Bunyola – Orient – Alaro – Bunyola. It is hard to believe that small towns like Bunyola are half an hour from the bustle of Palma and yet have the appeal of authentic Mallorca, that essential Mediterranean mix of sun-washed, tree shaded public square with pastel-coloured shuttered houses lining tiny echoing back streets. From Bunyola’s sociable central square the road winds towards Orient. The town houses are bedecked with wrought iron verandas, hanging birdcages of chirping finches and colourful window boxes bursting with flowers. Cacti lean over drystone walls as the road hugs the side of the valley overlooking the Moorish built olive and citrus terraces. Anyone visiting as early as February would enjoy the added delight of Mallorca’s renowned Almond blossom. The crags ahead beckon as dogs bark out an unfriendly welcome behind the gated estates of the well healed. The 3.8-mile ascent to the Col D’Honor rewards you with an exhilarating hairpin bended descent into the hanging valley that cradles Orient. This has a real alpine feel with fields backed by still higher crags. Stop by all means at one of the two roadside cafes and maybe walk up the nearby steps to the church and take in the unspoilt views. Leaving Orient for Alaro entails another climb, albeit short, until the long (and I mean long) sweeping descent releases those endorphins. On your right is the 800 metre Puig de Alaro, crowned by the forbidding Castillo de Alaro fortress gained by a rough 4.5-mile track and only practicable on a mountain bike. To the left is the stunning rock buttress of Soucadena. You’ll have chance to admire it because the bends have eased and the Moto GP knee to the ground cornering technique can be forgotten for a while. The nice thing about Mallorcan towns is the ease with which you enter and leave: one minute countryside, the next a café in the square beckons. It seems as quick as flicking between channels on TV. The one-way systems duck and dive in a labyrinthine way so keep your wits about you, a tangible respect for cyclists is sometimes spoilt by lapses of concentration by local motorists. The route back to Bunyola takes you through a more typical mix of Mallorca’s fertile arable land, the rich red/brown earth harbouring more olive groves. There are a variety of lanes to choose from but by keeping a westerly course you’ll eventually reach the road from Santa Maria to Bunyola and then turn right for the steady incline back to your start point. |
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The Rough-Stuff Fellowship
David Owen - February 2022 With special thanks to Mike Pringle & Pat Langley at the Rough-Stuff Fellowship for providing the photos. I have been delving into the second edition of The Rough-Stuff Fellowship Archive (IsolaPress.com 2019). It is a glorious celebration in photographs of the exploits of a group founded in 1955. They were, and continue to be, hardy practitioners of the road less travelled. “Road” is a moot point with the Fellowship because as long as a bike can be ridden, pushed or carried there is no limit to their wheeled exploits. 1955 pre-dates the development of the mountain bike so we’re talking conventional bikes, more akin to a standard road touring machine of the day – 32mm tyres and five gears if you were lucky. Coming only 4 years after the first National Park was founded in the Peak District in 1951, the Fellowship were drawn, as we are today, to the Lakes, Dales, Wales, Scotland and beyond. However, there was no limit to their horizons as the extraordinary achievement of their 1958 expedition shows: the four-man 260-mile first crossing by bike of the highest and longest pass in Iceland, known as the Sprengisandur. For a little local flavour I should point out that the expedition was first announced in Dent, at the Fellowship’s AGM. The journey highlights are featured in the Fellowship Archive but I thought it interesting to pick out some of the more amusing challenges faced by the group. Incidentally, we talk of marginal gains in cycling today, that could equally be described as the law of diminishing returns, especially as the cost of performance bikes has far outstripped inflation. It is only when we look back over 63 years of bike development that we can see real gains. It is also clear from their notes how frugally funded the trip was. Here are some interesting and amusing notes from the trip journal:
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The Rough-Stuff Fellowship Archive is a photographic treasure trove of adventures, taking us from the 50’s through to the 1980’s. There are so many evocative images. Whilst it may seem easy to pass them off as pure nostalgia, the reality is that any of those exploits can be replicated today with the same sense of joy and adventure. The difference is that with major leaps in bike and bike accessory development it is arguably easier than ever to plan and execute. This is a book that will grace the coffee table of anyone steeped in cycling culture. Find out more at www.rsf.org.uk |
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Old railway lines, cherry blossom and how to re-cycle a mudguard
David Owen, April 2022 Chris, David, Ian, Martin, Neil, Phil & Taff on a mid-week visit to the Peak District. The smoke and smut of the Leek and Manifold Light Railway had long gone as we rode onto the 8 miles of disused track where steam trains once took milk from local farms to market. Closed in 1934, it delivered us into the embrace of this gem of a Peak District dale. This was our start to a 58-mile circumnavigation of Staffordshire and Derbyshire’s finest limestone country. Beloved of mine explorers and industrial Archaeologists, the now defunct copper mine of Ecton Hill lay ahead with the distinct copper tower of the mine Manager’s house close to our overnight stay at the Manifold Inn. We’d left early enough to avoid the cycle track trip wires that connected dog owners to their four-legged friends, so it was easy enough to look up to the entrance of Thor’s Cave as the benign gradient took us south. This prominent landmark brings Palaeolithic history to the fore with evidence of man’s early habitation revealed in the excavations of 1864-65: an interesting diversion if you want to hike up to its entrance. The Manifold riverbed was as dry as the bones found in the cave as we criss-crossed its course over several bridges before leaving the Manifold valley for the climb overlooking Dovedale. Descents in the Peak naturally come at some cost. Despite marvelling at 3 Cherry blossom trees in full bloom we knew that the climb out of Ilam meant that the entrée had been fully digested, the main course was about to be delivered. Crawling up above Dovedale, the descent into Milldale came soon enough with a relaxed pedal along the bank of the river Dove. Climbing out (again) emphasizes how different the Peak is to the Lakes or Dales; here the descents into narrow dales seem like journeying to the centre of the earth, as in Jules Verne’s eponymous novel, rather than scaling the heights. If we could avoid the incredible creatures conjured up in the book we might make it to lunch. As the UK’s first National Park, the Peak has to be commended for the re-use of its old railway lines as walkways and cycle tracks. The Monsal Trail, High Peak Trail and our chosen section along the Tissington Trail are testament to the park’s forward thinking. We descended into Tissington along compacted gravel for a feed stop at this honeypot village. Its annual well-dressing pulls in the punters from all over the Midlands. |
With more climbing and descending we ticked off the villages of Parwich, Youlgreave and Over Haddon. However, the day was not to end well. After a stop in Over Haddon to admire Lathkill Dale we approached the long descent into Ashford in the Water. Love or hate them, mudguards on bikes are effective at helping to keep you dry. Love or hate them, they are definitely not your friend when they let go, tangle with your rear wheel and bring you off. That’s what happened to Neil who suffered nasty gravel rash, cuts to the face and a heavy blow to his shoulder. We’d all separated on the descent, so it was a while before the group realised what had happened. Fortunately, a good Samaritan stopped and gave assistance before offering to take Neil and bike to the nearest health centre for a check-up. The patient is now recovered and looking forward to a trans Ireland crossing by bike having quickly got back to cycling. And the pesky plastic mudguard? That has been despatched to the nearest re-cycling centre (if you’ll pardon the pun). |
Shropshire Sojourn
David Owen - July 2021
Renowned scholar and poet A E Housman described parts of Shropshire “as the quietest place under the sun.” It’s a good way of highlighting what is still one of the least populated of English counties. The prospect of myriad back lanes and isolated villages was the magnetic appeal for me, Ian and Steve on a car assisted mini break.
Our base was The Dragon Hotel in the pint-sized town of Montgomery, nestled in Welsh border country. The weather was hot, as hot as Kate Winslet in a sauna. The plan was to criss-cross the Welsh/Shropshire border and to take in the hill country close to Stipperstones National Nature Reserve, a high-level traverse of the whale-back Long Mynd (516m) and some of the quiet valleys close to Bryn Hill (407m) and Hergen Hill (409m).
Shropshire hills may not challenge those of the Welsh heartlands but what they miss in altitude they gain in quantity. They come thick and fast if you want to avoid the busier valley roads. Combine that with 28˚C, a distinct lack of watering holes during Covid restrictions and the search party could be looking for a pile of bleached bones.
It's quite a pull up onto the Long Mynd but worth it as we joined the spine road along the entire length of that famous hill. Beyond the junction with the glorious Carding Mill valley road, above Church Stretton, we were bound for the northern end. This is where the Midland Gliding Club has its air strip. We just had to stop and admire those thieves of the thermals as they strafed us with nothing but the sound of displaced air, the real-life whoosh that we made as children throwing paper planes.
We penciled in a lunch stop in the garden of the Castle Inn, Bishops Castle. This peach of a quirky town is also home to the Three Tuns brewery. Sadly, the Castle Inn was fully booked so we found ourselves like Joseph and Mary looking for a place at the inn. The smell both repelled and drew us to the Three Tuns brewery pub instead. The acrid aroma of the brewer’s alchemy was only bearable because we needed sustenance (rule number 1: never miss the opportunity for a pit-stop on long rides).
David Owen - July 2021
Renowned scholar and poet A E Housman described parts of Shropshire “as the quietest place under the sun.” It’s a good way of highlighting what is still one of the least populated of English counties. The prospect of myriad back lanes and isolated villages was the magnetic appeal for me, Ian and Steve on a car assisted mini break.
Our base was The Dragon Hotel in the pint-sized town of Montgomery, nestled in Welsh border country. The weather was hot, as hot as Kate Winslet in a sauna. The plan was to criss-cross the Welsh/Shropshire border and to take in the hill country close to Stipperstones National Nature Reserve, a high-level traverse of the whale-back Long Mynd (516m) and some of the quiet valleys close to Bryn Hill (407m) and Hergen Hill (409m).
Shropshire hills may not challenge those of the Welsh heartlands but what they miss in altitude they gain in quantity. They come thick and fast if you want to avoid the busier valley roads. Combine that with 28˚C, a distinct lack of watering holes during Covid restrictions and the search party could be looking for a pile of bleached bones.
It's quite a pull up onto the Long Mynd but worth it as we joined the spine road along the entire length of that famous hill. Beyond the junction with the glorious Carding Mill valley road, above Church Stretton, we were bound for the northern end. This is where the Midland Gliding Club has its air strip. We just had to stop and admire those thieves of the thermals as they strafed us with nothing but the sound of displaced air, the real-life whoosh that we made as children throwing paper planes.
We penciled in a lunch stop in the garden of the Castle Inn, Bishops Castle. This peach of a quirky town is also home to the Three Tuns brewery. Sadly, the Castle Inn was fully booked so we found ourselves like Joseph and Mary looking for a place at the inn. The smell both repelled and drew us to the Three Tuns brewery pub instead. The acrid aroma of the brewer’s alchemy was only bearable because we needed sustenance (rule number 1: never miss the opportunity for a pit-stop on long rides).
