ressy

this is the overflow from cropston reservoir. after prolonged heavy rain, or a period of severn trent not taking water from the reservoir, the level rises to the point that water will flow down these steps and off along a stream.
it makes a great sound. a gentle hiss of running water.

as i rode past this morning, i heard the hiss. i turned around and parked my bike. i jumped over the fence and went down for a closer look.
i had been looking for a subject to attempt to light paint that wasn't a bike, so i got to work.

the point and shoot did a decent job, but i knew i'd have to go back this evening and get a couple of pictures with my 'big' camera and a proper tripod.

i'm fairly pleased with the results, but still have some way to go before i perfect the technique - like this bloke

more pictures over on flickr

megawatt alley

today offered another snatched opportunity to paddle. i only had time for quick outing (my work/life balance needs a tweak) and so we stayed local.
i collected steve and the usual routine of loading boats onto cars and bags into boots was performed, albeit a little more smoothly than usual.
after leaving one car in the car park in the centre of shardlow (a place i'd never been to before), we headed for swarkestone. our route took us backwards and forwards across the trent a couple of times. it was a boiling, brown flow that had burst its banks in several places. although in this area of gravel pits and power station sluices, the river seems to be rarely contained and had many off-piste opportunities.

we parked next to the church and carried down the 50m or so to the water. each and every person we saw in swarkestone looked at us like we were aliens. particularly nasty looking aliens at that. i'm not sure how they thought we were going to spoil their rural idyll (well, any more than the bloody great road that runs through their village). because of the welcome we had no second thoughts about ignoring the 'private drive, private' sign and making our way to the bank.
swarkestone causeway is a thirteenth century stone structure that crosses the trent and the floodplain next to it and is the longest stone bridge in britain. it is amazing to think that this thing has stood for so long. what is more amazing is that we still allow traffic to use it.
the bridge in picture above was built after that section was swept away in 1795. a huge flood washed trees and timber down the river until it built up such a weight as to demolish the bridge.
as we took to the water, the flow turned our boats sharp left and we were off. the weather was fantastic and the low winter sun caused us one or two problems spotting the boils, eddies and whirlpools that were being caused by so much water moving so quickly.
there were many swans along this first section and we were treated to a few close-up take-offs and landings. as usual, the camera was tucked safely (and dry-ly) away for most of them.

we were heading generally east, towards the ratcliffe power station. it appeared to be spewing steam from all of its chimneys. something i'm not sure i've seen before.

the most 'interesting' section of the route came at the priest house hotel at king's mill near castle donnington. there used to be a weir here that has long since been washed away. it is usually a grade 1 rapid although the first standing wave today looked to be a couple of feet high. it's the first time my new boat has had a proper soaking and i've realised how porous touring spraydecks can be.
as usual, both steve and i were quite worried by this thing as we approached, but wanted another go immediately after clearing it.
we passed the remains of castle donnington power station and then under the railway bridge. there was only a couple of feet of clearance under here - i'm glad there were no trains.

we passed shardlow village on the left and then passed under cavendish bridge and into leicestershire. from here the trent is navigable. the marina was full of wintering boats but we were still being carried rapidly along until the river opened out at derwent mouth. here, the trent is joined by the river derwent and the trent and mersey canal. there is an awful lot of water about!

between us an the car was a mile of dirty canal and one lock. that didn't mean however that there wasn't time to stop for coffee and biscuits. when i say biscuits, i am understating the facts. in truth, they were abernethy biscuits...
abernethy biscuits are made in edinburgh by simmers. they're named after their scottish inventor dr john abernethy, who in turn was probably named after the scottish town. the town takes its name from the celtic word 'aber' , which doesn't mean dodgy attired viking singing group, but 'mouth of', and 'nethy' which is the name of the river.
they are fantastic. like shortbread, but thinner and less sweet. worth a trip north especially!
refreshed, we finally had to put some effort in to paddling (until now, the flow of the river had carried us along at over 10kmh) but were soon back in the village and amongst the sunday lunchers squeezing into the two pubs next to the canal.
as has been the way in our recent trips, we were blessed with great weather during the paddle only for it to rain (or snow) on the way home.

a grand trip anyway. the sort that makes me feel very smug on a monday morning when the people at work ask what i did over the weekend. 60 miles by bike and 10 by boat while most of them were still in bed.

if you want to see the exact route we took, take a look here: nokia sportstracker

cleat

new cleats

after a couple of attempts on my life
or at least my ability to procreate
i have rid myself of the evil pedal/cleat combo that had begun to separate its union at the most inopportune moments

i might even get to use them on a bike that is not laden with lights, panniers and mudguards tomorrow

fingers crossed

more

more light painting

apologies if you don't like it

but it's growing on me

more to follow then...

... maybe!

after

after a couple of weeks of riding in ice and through snow, the temperature has now risen and thawed it all out. this has coincided with a couple of days of heavy rain.

the result is flooded roads and rivers expanding out across fields.

this picture was taken one hundred meters or so into this particular flood. cars were turning around but because i was near the end of my ride, and couldn't be arsed with the extra miles to go around, i decided to go for it...

at its deepest it was about up to the bottom bracket. it did a good job of cleaning the accumulated road salt off.

the other thing that has happened during the 'big freeze' is that the ice has got into the road surfaces and expanded as it has frozen. this has ripped pot-holes into the surface of the road, spewing grit and gravel all over.

not great riding conditions then but who cares? IT WAS IN DAYLIGHT!

swift

later in the month i have to have an operation.
when i do i won't be able to ride for 6 weeks or so.
so i bought myself a shirt for that first ride back after all that time that i'll spend reading books about cycling and wishing i was riding.
it is a swift jersey from rapha.
it matches the tattoo on my leg.

shelf

left to right...
Laphroaig 10 Year Old Single Malt.
Colour: Full sparkling gold.
Nose: Huge smoke, seaweedy, "medicinal", with a hint of sweetness.
Body: Full bodied.
Taste: Suprising sweetness with hints of salt and layers of peatiness.
Finish: Lingering.
My first love when it comes to single malts. I've had dalliances with others, but keep coming back to this. Maybe Ardbeg just shades Laphroaig as my favourite Islay - just that little bit more sophisticated.

Talisker 10 Year Old Single Malt.
Colour: Deep gold.
Nose: Powerful peat-smoke with sea-water saltiness, the liquor of fresh oysters, a citrus sweetness.
Taste: A rich dried-fruit sweetness with clouds of smoke and strong barley-malt flavours, warming and intense. At the back of the mouth is an explosion of pepper.
Finish: Huge, long, warming peppery finish with an appetising sweetness.
This is a special edition that gave money from each bottle to the RNLI.

Glenfiddich Solera Reserve 15 Year Old
Nose: A full and fruity nose, with delicate honey and vanilla notes.
Taste: The taste is elegantly smooth, with a deep flavour that reveals fruit, gentle spice and a touch of oak.
Finish: The finish is long and satisfying.
Really easy drinking this. In fact, far too easy drinking!

Glenmorangie Cellar 13 Single Malt.
Nose: As sweet as the colour, mellow and very complex, there's coconuts in the beginning, also lots of white chocolate, noisette praliné, buttered shortbread and caramel with soft traces of baking spices (cinnamon).
Taste: Very firm and present at first, later there's a very remarkable and pleasant saltiness mingling with a subtle sweetness. Vanilla, honey, white chocolate again and in the back very smooth gingerbread notes - with water those are come a few steps more clearly in the foreground.
Finish: Medium till short, in the beginning it is a very beautiful finish, very nice bitter oakwood notes add very pleasureful insights, but! they leave quickly and fade into the feel of white sugar cubes and then ... nothing
A really complicated taste. This stuff sits in one cask and in the one cellar (number 13) for the whole ten years that it is ageing (which is unusual). This store is closest to the sea of the Glenmorangie cellars and so it tastes different to the rest.
This was a christmas present. Normally it is only available from duty-free shops. This was my very favourite...

The Glenlivet 12 Year Old Single Malt.
Colour: Light or pale gold.
Nose: Aromatic, with flowers. Clean and simple, with some maltiness. Sherry notes, some spice and vanilla.
Taste: Subtle peatiness. Delicate. Slightly sweet and fruity, with vanilla notes. Clean and well-balanced.
Finish: Long, but mild and warming. A trace of peat at the end.

The Macallan 18 year old Fine Oak Triple Cask Matured Highland Scotch Whisky.
Nose: Heady exotic floral aroma, with hints of jasmine, tropical fruits and peat.
Palate: Soft and rich, with hints of citrus, spice and wood smoke.
Finish: Lingering, with hints of orange zest.
A wedding present and really very special. This stuff is so good, it is difficult to actually comprehend how tasty it is. So much is going on in your mouth that you almost need to shut down your other senses to stand any chance. My new favourite.

The Dalmore 15 Year Old.
Colour: Rich, deep, golden mahogany.
Nose: Intense and firm. Well structured with silky smooth malty tones - a hint of Oloroso sherry lingers in the background. It shows great finesse, extolling fragrances of orange, marmalade and spiced notes.
Taste: Good attack on the mouth, more elegance than muscle. The aged Oloroso butts smooth its rich, fleshy body with great harmony. Almost a concentrated citric mouth-feel captivates and tantalises the middle part of your tongue.
Finish: An aftertaste of great abundance rewards the palate. A Highland malt of great distinction.I haven't actually tried this yet, but everything I read about it raves about the depth of the taste and fragrance.

I can't claim to be any kind of expert (the descriptions above were taken from the on-line fetishist's store The Whisky Exchange, but I know what I like and can think of many worse way to waste the extra cash.

Salut.

holland in the 1950s

kegworth to beeston

today was our first paddle of 2010 and it was one that stay in the memory for a while.
for one reason or another, it was quarter to two before we left steve's house and headed for the river. dropping the car off at beeston was going to involve a 20-odd mile drive, unless we took the wrong motorway junction and had a detour around the nottingham ring road. in which case it would be much longer...
so it was after quarter past three before we got on the water, leaving us a whole 75 minutes of daylight to cover the 15km to beeston.

the car told me it was -0.5 degrees as we left. what it didn't tell me was that there was a strong northerly breeze blowing that was going to chill any exposed or wet skin. so we got our heads down and paddled fairly hard for the first mile or so to ratcliffe lock.

we realised that where the water was stationary in the locks, it was likely to be frozen, but due to our late start, we decided to persevere with canal rather than the meandering river.
my strategy for the ice was to approach it as fast as possible and paddle straight onto the top of it. then i could gracefully glide across the ice before easing back into the water like a seal from a glacier...

what actually happened was that every time the front of the boat got onto the edge of the ice it would begin to crack. we'd have to back off, get some speed up and repeat. the novelty began to wear off...
finally i did get onto the ice. the graceful glide was actually me grunting my way, inches at a time, propelled by my knuckles.

steve was having the same problems... only more so... i turned around and started breaking the ice from the opposite direction, hoping i could clear a path for him. eventually, he did manage to get onto the ice and celebrated by getting out his new, waterproof camera for the first time, only to find that the battery was flat!


silence fell.


after this delay it really was getting dark and we still had a long way to go.

soon enough though, the soar met the trent and we turned right. avoiding trent lock for fear of it being frozen, we portaged to the right of the weir that the lock bypasses. we stopped for a coffee, a digestive and a pee. just then, we were lit up by headlights and flashing orange lights. as the truck drove towards us, we prepared our excuses... 'we're b.c.u. members. we can be here', 'we'll tell them we're lost, right...'.
as it happened, the three security guards from e-on (owners of ratcliffe power station) who had been scrambled after we had been spotted on the c.c.t.v. system were fine with us, if a little bemused that people would be paddling in the dark and sub-zero temperatures.

once back on the water, we had the flow of the trent behind us and 7km to go. the temperature continued to drop and both my spray deck and boat were now covered with an ever growing layer of ice.
we spooked a few herons, grebes and anglers as we paddled onwards through the darkness, but the sound of beeston weir growing ever closer.
by the time we arrived at the marina, the snow was falling again and it felt like we had an epic day behind us.

i sit at home now with glowing cheeks. the kind that can only be earned by a great day in the outdoors.


more pictures here

snow, light, trees and commuting

the snow finally came. so it only came for a couple of hours, but it dumped a crisp and even two inches across the shire. since then, temperatures have been pretty consistently sub-zero and so the snow is hanging around.
yesterday i had fun in the snow both on the way to work and the way back.
today, a sharp bit on the valve hole on my front rim ate its way through the inner tube at the base of the valve and i had a walk for a mile before being rescued.

after being lent a tube by mike, i headed home and exactly the same thing happened again. the only difference? this time i had to walk 3 miles before my rescuer arrived.

time for half an hour on the turbo...

in the meantime, here are some pictures from the rides i did manage to complete on my way to and from work.


as usual, click to go to the flickr page and use the 'all sizes' button there to see it bigger


three of these pictures contain my first three attempts at light painting. it is a technique that seems to be everyuwhere at the moment and is a fun thing to. it is a bit more hands on than hdr, tilt-shift miniatures and the other photographic phases that seem to have come and gone

rides '09

some of my rides through last year...