It’s a dead giveaway, when there’s a bridge over nothing. The road rises briefly, up and over the hump, a blip in an otherwise contour-less scene. On either side, just the fields continuing their uninterrupted roll. A random rise and fall. But of course there is a reason. Once upon a time a train would have passed under that bridge, a railway line marking the landscape where the hedgerow of the field now curves. I often pass some remnant of the old railways: a crumbling bric

A ride during my '52 Bike Rides' project in 2021 The marker is easy to find: a plaque set into the pavement. 0º Meridian. Ahead, the road winds lane-like into the fields. Behind, a similar feel. Below, incongruous, a dual carriageway roars, sunk into a cutting, stridden by concrete. Painted white railings separate us from the traffic below and a short way along, some bright yellow flowers are attached, their plastic green stalks lashed to the metal with a pink ribbon. A mem

In July 2021 I cycled the Three Peaks with my brother-in-law. When I say that, people think I mean cycling up the mountains. But Three Peaks by Bike means hiking up the highest peaks in England, Scotland and Wales, and riding between each of them. It's 450 miles with 15,000ft of climbing. We spent a week on the journey: Day 1, up and down Snowdon, cycle to Denbigh. Day 2 + 3, cycle to Keswick. Day 4, climb Scafell Pike, cycle to Gretna Green. Day 5&6, cycle to Glen Coe. Day 7

A ride during my '52 Bike Rides' project in 2021 The campsite is full. We were sure there would be space – two cyclists with two one-man...

Fifteen years ago, two weeks before Christmas, my mother died. She had suffered from seizures for most of our lives, after the surgeons...

It happens so gradually you hardly notice it. A vague light blue at the edges of the sky that might be the reflected lights of the next...