Cycling - Matt's Website

Cycling

Adventures on two wheels – near, far and in between.

A grey bike leans against a concrete wall covered in multi-coloured graffiti, beyond which lies a narrow stone trail.

The last ride of summer

Late summer bike rides are tinged with urgent sadness; each one might be the last before wet weather sets in.

The grass and stone tracks of a byway stretch into the distance between golden fields.

The impossibility of seasons

This wet summer has me remembering dry days gone by, the sort of days when the sun evaporates the very idea of winter.

A black and white view of a flooded landscape dotted with trees, a range of hills in the background.

Riding through a drowned world

As the flood waters peaked again, I set off to ride through a landscape turned largely to liquid – everything seemed to be covered in either water or mud. The monsoon months between July and December had been the wettest on record for the UK as Storms Babet, Ciarán, Debi, Elin,

Cycling with Grandpa

Cycling with Grandpa

Spinning along the smooth gravel of the Peak District rail trails, three generations found our flow.

Finding peace in the Galloway Forest Park

Finding peace in the Galloway Forest Park

We left fears, anxieties, work and chores far behind for a week exploring the forest around Glentrool.

A woman cycles through a forest pulling a bike trailer with a Golden Retriever puppy onboard.

The dog trailer days

We wanted to get our new puppy used to travelling by bike, so we hired a trailer. Spoiler alert: she loved it.

Edgelands: neither here nor there

Edgelands: neither here nor there

I’m no lover of cities, yet I'm drawn to edgelands – those transitional spaces that are neither urban nor rural.

A bike leans on a signpost pointing to the Ridgeway byway in either direction, another track to the right.

A week of Wiltshire byways

Our leisurely exploration of this ancient landscape took us from the stones of the Neolithic and Bronze Ages to the concrete of the 1930s.

A bike leans on a National Cycle Network waymarker, a tree to one side and a loch in the background.

Big country for an old man

Racing the rain along the forest roads and quiet lanes of Galloway. (And hoping my family had saved me some biscuits.)

A child rides their bike on a winding trail through a pine forest, their green coat billowing behind them.

Glorious Glentrool gravel

Forest roads wound for miles across the hillsides – built for logging lorries but ideal for our needs. We'd found the perfect place for some family cycling.

A child cycles along a rough track in high country, grassy slopes on either side.

Elan Valley: the rough and the smooth

Not every family rough-stuff expedition we attempt goes smoothly but an October ride in the Elan Valley proved to be a hit, despite the conditions.

A ride through Dartmoor’s industrial past

A ride through Dartmoor’s industrial past

When a drive back from Cornwall took us past the start of the Granite Way in Okehampton, we stopped off for a ride with a unique perspective on Dartmoor.

A young boy in a blue t-shirt sits on a sandy beach, his yellow bike propped up in the sand behind him.

Swapping the car for the Camel

Our largely car-free week in Cornwall showed what’s possible when people have access to good cycling infrastructure.

A weekend in the forest

A weekend in the forest

Following a year in which Covid-19 had kept us close to home, a few days pedalling along tracks by the River Wye felt like a distant adventure.

A young boy in a blue t-shirt cycles away from the camera on a forest track.

Return to Mortimer Forest

It had been six months since we’d been to Mortimer Forest and it felt good to be back. Whenever we ride into the trees here we feel free.

A child in a blue t-shirt rides a bike away down a farm track.

Riding further (for fruit)

When the fruit farm’s website announced the ripening of the strawberries, we knew exactly where our family ride that Sunday would take us.

A track through woodland passes the brick pillars of a dismantled railway bridge.

In the tracks of the hop pickers

A ride along the remains of a railway line axed by Beeching and recolonised by nature.

A bike leans on the bench at the top of the hill, its red rear and white front lights bright in the darkness.

The magic of cycling at night

Until recently I didn’t see the appeal of riding at night, but I’m increasingly drawn to venturing out after hours.

A gravel bike silhouetted against trees and hills at sunrise.

Ride on: cycling through a pandemic

I stood on the verge and photographed the sunrise-silhouettes of the trees and the ridge line of the hills. A moment of stillness in a world of upheaval.

A child cycles away from the camera up a forest track.

Riding the Forest of Dean ghost rails

For much of the ride we followed the routes of railway lines long gone and long forgotten. In their place: cycle paths and forests tracks.

A gravel bike on a rural canal bridge.

The joy of towpath gravel

With no proper infrastructure or access rights in England, I have to get creative when planning traffic-free rides.

A rusty signpost points along the Ridgeway National Trail, rolling green hills in the background.

The Ridgeway + Kennet & Avon Canal

I was on the Ridgeway – again. This time it was to ride a 240km car-free, off-road overnighter using the Kennet & Avon Canal to create a loop.

An adult and child cycle away from the camera along a cycle path in the Dutch dunes.

Going Dutch in Domburg

We pedalled away from our hostel – a converted thirteenth century castle – on the bike paths that run through the forest and nature reserve.

View of Cheddar town from above the gorge: houses among trees and a reservoir in the distance.

Strawberry Line overnighter

From our viewpoint above Cheddar Gorge, the town stretched out before us and we could see the hostel where we had spent the previous night.

A mountain bike stands on the loch side with Ben Nevis in the background.

Cycling the Caledonian Canal

Early in the year, and with local schools not yet on holiday, we had the white gravel towpath almost to ourselves.