July 2021 - Tour number 2 - Keeping it local (Day 2)

There is something really calming about listening to rain on canvas, while you are snuggled into a sleeping bag. But tonight, I'm not finding it quite as relaxing as normal, but then counting elephants to check the distance of the thunder storm rarely is. 

Thankfully there was only the one occasion when I only got as far as ‘Ellie’ when there was a Big Bang  and then things quietened to just flashes. 

I heard rustling and unzipping from next door - I wasn’t the only one awake. 

‘Are you awake Sharon’ came Jo’s voice. ‘Yes. You ok?’ I replied. 

‘I’m just fixing my tent. Warning - I’m in my cycle jacket and pants’ at which point I hastily opted to remain within the confines of my own canvas - there’s been enough flashing already for one night!’ 

Having repositioned her wandering tent peg Jo returned to the safety of  her tent and told me about the growing en-suite water feature beside Bab’s tent. We both peered through the dark towards a pond heading towards the corner peg. It had by now stopped raining so unless it started again, we felt it was safe to leave Babs sleeping. 

I closed my eyes. 

I woke with the brightness of morning and more rustling from next door. Keen to check for puddles of my own, I got myself moving. The offer of coffee was too alluring. 

Though the en-suite water feature was now ebbing away, we all knew that the damp in the air would mean our tents would be that much heavier today. Breakfast was a leisurely affair, partly due to tiredness, partly due to the knowledge that nothing would be getting dryer due to the mizzle surrounding us. 

‘Why do things never pack the same way twice?’ 

I couldn’t remember what went where and ended up with very uneven bags - It wasn't till later in the day that I would come to realise the effect of not trying again, while trying to control a speed wobble whilst heading downhill. 

Once certain that we had left no trace, we headed out of camp and rode across the heathland towards brunch. 

We didn’t get far through the atmospheric scenery before being distracted by a family of donkeys against their misty backdrop.

The little one, wasn’t sure what to make of us and the strange, silent beasts that carried us. It was scarily much happier to approach the car that had just drawn up. 

 By the time we reached our chosen breakfast stop, the sun was out and we could loose our jackets for a while. 

You can’t visit the New Forest Lavender farm and not sample the lavender scones. Of course we left no trace there either. 

It wasn’t till we were just about to leave when another customer called across - ‘Do you have a flat there?’ 

We all looked down at our bikes, but it was Babs that had won the puncture lottery. She started readying her steed for repair while I did the next best thing and ordered more coffee. 

The coffee took longer than the repair, and we were soon on our way. Through village, hamlet and individual houses. Down some roads we knew and others that look like they have not been used in quite a while. At one point I was worried we were trespassing. 

But it all reminded me how pretty my surrounding area is and how easy it is to get to it by bike. 

We eventually reached the point where our paths would part, but not wanting to finish just yet, decided to have what is rapidly becoming a traditional parting drink at a handily placed pub. 

After clinking our glasses to a successful tour and raising a toast to further adventures, I headed south while Jo and Babs took the northerly route. 

But that wasn’t the end of the story. 
Just as I reached Romsey, I heard the familiar rumble of thunder, but unsure of its direction, I wondered if the others were caught in a storm. I stopped and shot them a quick message just as the heavens opened and gave me a complete soaking. 

‘Snack stop and tyre pump - slow puncture’ came the response. 

I rode on in the rain, mulling over their good fortune with the weather and wondering if I was the 'rain magnet' we had been discussing the previous night. 

It wasn’t until it started hailing and I ducked under a nearby bus shelter that the other part of the message hit me - ‘Snacks’ I said aloud, with a huge grin on my face, as I remembered my own stash. 

All too soon, I was back home. The tent was thrown over the washing line - as ‘Accuweather’ promised a couple of dry hours - and I headed off to get a shower and warm through. The sorting of the rest of the gear could wait. 

And what of the others? Well, the slow puncture became a full blown (or should I say unblown) puncture. Another cyclist came to their aid with another mechanical and they eventually reached home a few hours later. 

Did it put them off? 

No chance! 

Keep your eyes peeled for tour number 3. 

Relive - https://www.relive.cc/view/vYvr4Mm1Gx6

July 2021 - Tour number 2 - Keeping it local (Day 1)

It’s a beautiful day. 

It’s been a beautiful (if not a tad hot) week. And I’m stood on Cobden bridge watching the world go by. The cars behind are only slightly spoiling  the ambience of the location. 

A kayak glides under the bridge followed by a group of Paddle boarders. Above, a light aircraft slows as it heads to Eastleigh airport. A chap on a cargo bike skilfully manoeuvres himself and his double base up the slope at the end of the path. (It was only when he passed that I realised it was electric assist.) 

I am watching the horizon for two laden cyclists following the waterway on route 2. If I was less lazy, I would cycle to meet them. But my bike is heavy and that slope is hard at the best of times. I will instead wait here. Playing official photographer, while watching the world glide by. 

The unmistakable forms of Jo and Babs soon came into view, and our journeys merge. We followed NCN2 all the way into town, the boardwork looking particularly pretty with the tide high. We soon reached our first destination. Paid for our tickets and excitedly waited to board Jenny Blue who would be taking us across to Hythe. 

The bikes were expertly lifted aboard by the crew who made this look completely effortless. And we spent the next 15 mins letting the boat take the strain. 

By the time we had disembarked then walked the iconic pier into Hythe, we all agreed that we deserved a cuppa. The girls had already covered over 20 miles from Winchester and I, well I hadn’t gone quite that far. So a coffee stop was found. 


Once back on our bikes we continued following the handy NCN signs and shared use paths to Applemore and once negotiated our first, of many, cattle grids, we were in the New Forest. 

Riding through the infamous Ipley cross, we talked about the plans for a new junction and remembered those who didn’t get to ride away from it in past cycles. 

Onward into Beaulieu, where we stopped for lunch. 

The Bakehouse tea rooms has changed hands, but I was pleased to find that the overall feel has been retained as has the quality of the food. It remains one of my favourite coffee stops. 

Some locals felt the same and joined us for lunch. 

Time to leave so after another trip to the loo and a  smothering of suntan lotion, we made our way out of the town, heading this time for Brockenhurst. 

The sun beat down as we turned into the open moorland of the ‘forest’ punctuated by small clumps of trees which were often inhabited by the locals. The nicest thing about travelling by bike is the ease at which you can drop everything and join in with what’s going on around you. 

Next stop Rhinefeld arboretum and the long slow climb to Bolderwood. 

Having rewarded ourselves with a sneaky ice cream, we consulted the maps to see how far away camp was. 

Just 10 miles later, we reached our stop for the night - Ocknell Camping in the Forest site. 

We found some fairly flat land away from other campers and set up camp. 

A sign at the toilets filled both Babs and I with dread and all thoughts of wild wee’s during the night were dashed. 

Dinner was a leisurely affair and was punctuated by locals who obviously use this as a thoroughfair. Let’s hope they remember where the tents are. 

We sat, till dark, planning future adventures, then after a final stroll to the loos, and a refill of water bottles, we batten down the hatches for the night ahead. 



And so now I find myself in a field of Adders watching the lightning flashes and counting the gaps till the thunder with nothing more than a piece of material between me and my fears. How far I have come in the last 20 years! 

Night all. 

Edit - It’s just after 4. Jo is currently bailing out her tent - a peg pulled out in the wind/rain allowing the end to partially collapse. Babs now has a large water feature to the left of hers. And me?  I’m not looking.