Redbud at Night

I took the dogs out about 2 am the other night and noticed that the light that had been moved recently was shining on the blossoms of the redbud. I got the camera and tried a couple of shots. Had to work with it a bit to get the right setting but thought that the effect on all 3 photos was at least different.

The Manatees of Blue Spring

Sunday, February 3rd - - Located north of Orlando, Florida along the St. Johns River, Blue Spring State Park is the winter home of a small population of West Indian Manatees. Perhaps a dozen or so were within the viewing area provided by the park on the day I visited. For more information on the Manatees, see the Save the Manatee website.







The shallow, crystal-clear water is ideal for viewing the Manatees.





A little one coming up for air.





A group of four youngsters heading upstream.






This one was feeding on the algae at the bottom of the stairs. It was there for quite a while and it was one of the larger manatees in the area that day.





Another large one meandering upstream. They seemed to like to hang out beneath the viewing platform.






A more mature manatee.





A psychedelic version, compliments of a little wind and some sunshine.





There was a lot of pushing going on around a tree that had fallen into the stream.





The green leaves must have been the best tasting...

Danny Boy

When we moved to the US in the early '90s, I promptly started junior high school in a small New England town. The first thing I remember about walking into the classroom, was the shock of green cardboard shamrocks strung up all over the walls and a large banner declaring "Erin Go Bragh." (That's not how you spell it, a friend from Cork would later wrinkle her nose. But never mind.) Our teacher was fiercely Irish, as were at least half of the students. Second or third generation mainly, and, truth be told, most of them ethnically mixed. But Irish identities had a way of dominating in those days - when the economic boom had not yet hit the Emerald Isle, when South Boston still had romantic notoriety, and when House of Pain's Jump Around played several times a day on MTV.Most chose to express this identity through visual iconology: shamrocks, leprechauns, bright kelly green, friendship rings, and abundant use of faux-celtic fonts. But soon fate brought the opportunity to also express it musically.



In those days, our school had a rather famousa cappellachoir, led by our passionate and popular music teacher, Mr. McKenna. It wasn't just anyone who could join this elite group. There were limited spots. The annual tryouts involved weeks of preparation from hopefuls and bitter tears from those who did not make it. But those of us who made it... my goodness, we felt special. In the mornings, we went to choir practice instead of home room.We wore beautiful uniforms.We stood side by side, in a tight formation on metal risers. Labeled a strong Soprano, I still remember my place: 3rd row, 5th from the right. Our choir recorded albums. Our choir preformed in competitions and won. Once a year we even travelled to compete in the national finals, inevitably returning with medals.



We were one of the best, Mr. McKenna would tell us, again and again, beaming at our fresh-scrubbed teenage faces, our teary eyes and our chapped lips from hours of singing. And we were one of the best because we worked at it. Because we rehearsed until each piece was perfect. And if it wasn't perfect (his face would turn serious now, almost stormy), we did not perform it. Not at a local Christmas concert, and certainly not at competition. Was that understood by each and every one of us? It was.



The national finals happened in May. Competing choirs would select their performance pieces in September, then spend the entire school year rehearsing them. The year I entered the 8th grade, Mr. McKenna gathered us to announce the competition selection with an air of festivity: For our main piece, we would be singing Danny Boy. As he distributed the sheet music, it was clear that the piece was very, very dear to him.



With tears in his eyes, Mr. McKenna talked about Ireland. How beautiful it was and how special his visit there with his wife and children had been - a place where his great grandfather had once lived and farmed.Later, as we struggled with the song, he talked about visualising the glens and imagining Danny Boy's plight. We tried our best, although most of us did not know what glens were exactly.



It was a beautiful, but complicated piece. Or maybe the arrangement Mr. McKenna had chosen was complicated, his judgment clouded by a reverence for the song's Irishness. Overly nuanced harmonies, notes held too long for our young lungs, sharp transitions from low notes to high. We were a good choir, but we were amateurs. We were a motivated bunch of kids, but we only had so much energy to give, after our classes and homework and turbulent teenage love-lives.



In fairness, we were doing fine with Danny Boy. We were getting there. But for Mr. McKenna's liking, we were not getting there fast enough. So he panicked, and he pushed us. With passionate pep talks and hours of extra rehearsals, he pushed and he pushed. He pushed until the melody of Danny Boy began to sound like nails against a chalkboard to our ears. He pushed until the lyrics lost all meaning and each repetition felt like a seizure-induced loop. He pushed until, instead of inspiring a breakthrough, Mr. McKenna broke our spirits.



Having come down with the flu, I did not join the choir in that year's finals. I did not witness the mass hysteria and weeping after, for the first time in its 12 year history, our choir failed to earn a medal at the competition. I only saw my peers' dejected faces when they returned home empty handed. I only saw the careless wrinkles in their uniforms at our next local performance and the way they slouched on the risers, with Mr. McKenna not bothering to chide us for either transgression.



We never talked about it. But deep down we all connected our choir's fall from grace with this attempt at a perfect rendition of Danny Boy. The piece was simply too personal, too precious for Mr. McKenna; he gave in to the rawness of his emotions and lost perspective. The following year, when I was already in high school, we heard that Mr. McKenna stepped down as music teacher and moved away. We were told he had health problems, and there were whispers of a nervous breakdown. It was not until years later that we learned he divorced his wife of 30 years and married one of his former students (by then a high school graduate, aged 19), which prompted parents to call for his resignation.



I have not thought about any of this in years. But I think about it now, in the mornings, as I lock up my bike in the town center of Limavady, Northern Ireland. There is a contemporary sculpture next to the cafe where I like to work. It is vaguely glen-shaped, in an abstract sort of way, and engraved with the lyrics to Danny Boy. Across the street is the colourful Corner Bar, its walls painted with murals containing more references to the song. And a helpful inscription explains the connection: "It was in Limavady that the famous melody 'Danny Boy' was noted down by Jane Ross from a tune played by a blind street fiddler named Jimmy McCurry." The original name of the melody was actually Londonderry Air, written byEnglishman Frederic Weatherly. But never mind. It's been 20 years since I sang Danny Boy and I still remember the lyrics.

French Tarragon

I finally managed to find some French tarragon. This fragrant herb is essential in many French recipes, which is what I'll be using it for.

Anyone have experience with tarragon?

GREEK Easter Now

William P. Wise and Sophia Dunfee

William Pythagrus Wise, my Great-Great Grandfather, was the oldest child of seven children born to Jacob and Malissa Ann (Stem) Wise. According to my grandmother's notes, they were living in Miami County, Indiana on January 1, 1852 when William was born. William grew up on the family farm in the northern part of Thorncreek Township, Whitley County, Indiana near the Noble County line and near Malissa's parents, Conrad and Indiana (Sisley) Stem.

On October 5, 1864 Jacob Wise was drafted into the Army, just a little over a month after his son Sylvester (not quite two years old) had died and two weeks before the birth of his daughter Rosilla. William had probably been responsible for doing chores around the farm prior to his father being drafted, and I can imagine the talk that his father gave to him before departing. After all, he was the oldest child and his mother would be giving birth again soon, not to mention the death of little Sylvester.

A little over seven months later, on May 17, 1865 Jacob died of chronic diarrhea at an army hospital in Nashville, Tennessee. So it was that William became the "man of the house" when he was a little over 13 years old. His mother would remarry, but not until 1876, when the children were older.

On October 9, 1873 William P. Wise was married to Sophia Elizabeth Dunfee. She was the daughter of Catherine Jones and William Hamilton Dunfee and was born September 18, 1850 in Columbia City, Whitley County, Indiana. The notice of their marriage appeared in the Whitley County Commercial on October 16th. "Married. Wise-Dunfee. By the Rev. John Miller, on Oct. 9th, 1873, William Wise, of Thorncreek, and Miss Sophia Dunfee, of Columbia City."

They soon purchased a farm in Troy Township, north of Columbia City and a few miles west of his mother's farm. This is where they would live out their lives and raise a family of four children.

• Harry H. Wise was born August 10, 1874. He would move to Lorain County, Ohio in the late 1890s, living near his aunt, Rosilla Wise Zinsmeister, and her family. He married Emma Klieman and they had four children.
• Maude Catherine Wise was born December 9, 1877. Maude is my Great-Grandmother. She married Charles Romain Brubaker on February 7, 1897 and they had four children.
• Maurice James Wise, twin brother of Maude, was born December 9, 1877. Maurice never married. He owned and ran a restaurant in Sturgis, Michigan and was killed in an auto-truck accident in July 1943.
• Hazlette Ann Wise was born October 10, 1885. She married Harlo Asher Burns on October 10, 1911. They lived on a farm in Troy Township, Whitley County and had two children.

Harry, Sophia, Maude, William, and Maurice. Hazlette, seated in front.
Sophia Dunfee Wise died on December 6, 1916; her obituary was published in the Columbia City Post on December 8, 1916:

Mrs. William Wise, of Troy township passed away Wednesday at 1:30 o'clock from blood clots on the brain and paralysis. She has been confined to her bed for the past two weeks and although her condition varied at times, she seemingly grew weaker and the end was not altogether unexpected by members of the family who were familiar with the ailments of the patient.

Mrs. Wise was a daughter of William and Catherine Dunfee and was born in this city September 18, 1850; she being aged 66 years, 2 months and 18 days at her death. She spent her childhood days in this city and received her education here. On October 9, 1873, she was united in marriage to William Wise, who survives. To this union four children were born; Harry Wise of Lorane, Ohio; Morris J. Wise, of Elkhart; Mrs. Maude Brubaker, of North Webster, and Mrs. Harlow Burns, of Troy township.

Mr. and Mrs. Wise took up their residence on a farm northwest of this city following their marriage and have resided there ever since. Mr. Wise was a successful farmer and was greatly assisted by his devoted wife who was constantly caring for her children and their home. She was loved and respected by her many friends. Mrs. Wise was a member of the Thorncreek township Christian church and was a faithful worker in the cause of the Master.

Besides her husband and children, she is survived by one brother, William Dunfee, of Columbia township, and one sister, Miss Rebecca Dunfee, of Troy township.

William would live for nearly 20 more years, passing away on October 12, 1935. His obituary was published in the Columbia City Post two days later:

William P. Wise, past 83 years old, well-known Whitley county farmer, died Saturday night at 8:45 o'clock at the home of his daughter, Mrs. Harlo Burns, in Troy Township. He had been in declining health for the past year but for the past two weeks his condition, due to a complication of diseases, had grown steadily worse until death ensued.

Born in Allen county on January 1, 1852, William P. Wise was a son of Jacob and Malissa Stemm Wise, and had reached the age of 83 years, 9 months and 11 days. He resided all his life except one year in Whitley county, for when but a year old his parents brought him to Thorncreek township where he grew to manhood.

On October 7, 1873, William P. Wise was united in marriage to Sophia Dunfee, who preceded him in death in 1916. Since her death Mr. Wise made his home with his daughter in north Troy township. In addition to Mrs. Wise, the deceased was preceded in death by two brothers and three sisters.

Surviving are two sons and two daughters, namely, Harry H. of Lorain, Ohio; Maurice, formerly of Elkhart and now of Troy township, who is a twin brother of Mrs. Joseph Yontz, of Columbia City, and Mrs. Harlo Burns. Two sisters; Mrs. David Anspaugh, of Ray, Ind., and Mrs. Rosie Zintz, of Lorain, Ohio, eight grand children and sixteen great-grandchildren also survive Mr. Wise.

Early in life Mr. Wise united with the Thorncreek Christian church east of Cresco and though this church has been long since abandoned he never changed his membership. William P. Wise was a farmer by occupation all his life and was regarded as an upright and honest Christian character and a fair dealer with all his neighbors, each of whom characterized Mr. Wise as one of the finest neighbors a person could have and one who never spoke anything but kind words of everyone with whom he was acquainted.

The body was brought to the DeMoney Funeral Home in Columbia City and was removed from there to the Harlo Burns home Sunday. Funeral services will be held Tuesday afternoon at 1:30 p.m. at the Burns home. Dr. E. C. Lindsay, of Goshen, will conduct the services and burial will be in Scott cemetery.

The notice of his funeral was published on October 16th in the Columbia City Post. My mother says she vaguely remembers attending the funeral; she would have been seven years old at the time. Her brother, Billy, was only five.

Funeral services were held Tuesday afternoon from the Harlo Burns home in Troy Township, for the late William Wise, Dr. E. C. Lindsay, of Goshen, officiating. Ray Estlick and Mrs. Fern Marker sang the hymns.

The pallbearers were Charles Yontz, William Brubaker, Charles Anspaugh, Victor Phend, William Anspaugh, and Charles Jacobs. The flower bearers were Patsy, Phyllis, Virginia and Billy Phend, great-grandchildren of Mr. Wise. Interment took place in the Scott cemetery.

Those attending the funeral rites from a distance were Mr. and Mrs. Harry Wise, Lorain, Ohio; Mrs. Rosa Zintsmeister and daughter, Lorain, Ohio; Mr. and Mrs. David Anspaugh, Mr. and Mrs. Charles Anspaugh and Mr. and Mrs. William Anspaugh, Ray, Ind., Mr. and Mrs. William Brubaker, Elkhart.

Wise Family - Index to Posts

Truss Lust!

[image via ANT]



There is never a shortage of gorgeous ANT bicycles to fantasize about, and my latest obsession is the striking Truss Bike. This design is modeled after the original Truss Bridge Bicycle built by Iver Johnson in 1910, which in turn was modeled after the truss arch bridge.



[image viafixedgeargallery]

The original Iver Johnson bicycles were builtin Fitchburg, MA.The truss frame was available as a "racer" or a "roadster", as you can see in the cataloghere.



[image via oldbike.eu]

Iver Johnson was an interesting man who also made handguns, among other things. The truss bridge bicycle frame design is generally credited to him.



[image via oldbike.eu]

However, there was also La Labor - a French bicycle manufacturer that seems to have built a similar truss frame at around the same time. There have not been any truss patent wars between the two, as far as I know.



[image via Ahearne Cycles]

Another contemporary remake of the truss: a randonneur from Ahearne Cycles. Stunning workmanship, and I love the colour - although I never thought I would say this, but there is too much lugwork going on here for me. To my eye, it seems that the truss frame is best shown off with clean TIG-welding, without lugs. This is possibly the only bicycle design of which I would say that.



[image via John Grinder]

And here is an ultra-modern interpretation by John Grinder. This is a welded 29er mountain bike with sloping top tube and derailleur gearing. Certainly not your everyday mountain bike!



[image via oldbike.eu]

If anybody out there is knowledgeable about truss bridge bicycles and their history, I would love to know what the original purpose of the design was: Was the intention for it to withstand extreme stress during races? Or was it meant for loaded transport cycling, like the double top tube? I am also interested in whether the original was welded or lugged; from the pictures it is difficult to tell.



I am glad that this classic but eccentric bicycle design has been resurrected by several excellent builders. If you have a truss bike, what is it like to own and ride? "Jim the mechanic" at Harris Cyclery has an ANT Truss Bike in a deep red, but I missed the opportunity to properly photograph his, so stunned I was by the bicycle's beauty!

A Question of Favourites

Having now ridden most of the bicycles profiled here, one question I often get is which are my favourites. If I had to buy a new transportation bike today, which one would it be? While I find it impossible to choose just one, I can tell you which I prefer from each of the categories I described earlier: heavy duty Dutch bikes, lightweight Italian city bikes, and middleweight "classic hybrids."



[image via Gazelle USA]

If I were in the market for a Dutch bike specifically, I think I would buy a Gazelle. Currently producedGazelle bicycles are missing some of the charming details of their predecessors, such as the lugged connector between the curved top tube and the downtube, and the traditional bolted seatcluster. But they still have an attractive lugged fork crown, a predominantly lugged frame, and an elegant overall look. I would buy not the Toer Populair, but the Basic model (3 speed with coaster brake) for $859, and replace the saddle with my own. I prefer Gazelle to Batavus, because it seems better made. I prefer Gazelle to Workcycles, mainly because the Workcyclesis too heavy for me. Also, both Workcycles and Batavus bikes have unicrown forks rather than lugged crown forks, and I just can't bring myself to choose a bike with that feature if I have other options.



One Dutch bike I have not yet tried is Achielle (which now has a US distributor), so I cannot say whether I'd prefer it to the Gazelle. Unlike most other modern Dutch bikes, it is still made in the EU and the pictures look fantastic, but nonetheless it is impossible to know without trying. If anybody's ridden one and can compare it to the other Dutch bikes, I'd love to hear about it.



[image via Bella Ciao]

If I were looking for a light but classic transportation bicycle, the choice is really just between the Italians: Abici andBella Ciao. I would, and did, choose a Bella Ciao, because I prefer its ride quality and frame construction. I find theBella Ciaoto be less aggressive than the Abici, while being equally lightweight andfast - which, to me, makes for a more comfortable ride.And the unicrown fork on the Abici is, again, just not something I can live with. I also prefer the Bella Ciao's chaincase and handlebars, but those points are relatively minor in comparison. Both Abici and Bella Ciaoframes are made in Italy.



[image via Adeline Adeline]

And finally, if I were looking for a midweight bicycle, I would buy a Retrovelo - the 3-speed Klara model for $1,450.Retrovelobicycles are beautifully constructed, with impeccable lugwork and a mouth-wateringly gorgeous triple plate fork crown. And more importantly, I don't know of a single Retrovelo owner as of yet who is unhappy with the bike. Compared to PashleyandVelorbis, the Retrovelois somewhat faster and does better up hills, as well as feels cushier over potholes. The handlebars and stem are not my cup of tea, and I do wish it had a coaster brake and a full chaincase. But the bike is otherwise so nice, that I find these features alarmingly easy to ignore. In short: I want one, but have absolutely no excuse and no money to get it.



While I hope this explains my own selection process, it would be good to hear different opinions. The new bike shopping season is just around the corner and many are starting to research bicycles again. Which bicycle did you choose to buy, or would you now choose to buy - and why? If you already own a classic transportation bike, are you happy with it, or are you considering switching to another?

GB Components Are Back! ...And You Can Have Their Cycling Cap

One of the things I was truly excited to see at Interbike was the GB display. GB Components (the initials stand for the founder Gerry Burgess) are known to vintage bicycle lovers, particularly the handlebars. Well, the company is now re-establishing itself under the ownership of the original founder's son (Jeremy Burgess), and the prototypes of their new, made in the UK components were modestly on display.



These include a gorgeous lugged stem (both quill and threadless models),



sculptural-looking wingnuts, handlebars, and other components. I have more photos that I will include in my big Interbike write-up, but these should give you an idea of their beauty. I spoke with the GB representative for a while, and may get to review some of the components as they go into production - will keep you posted.



In the meantime, I would like to give you their cycling cap. These were being given away as promotional items at Interbike, and they are rather nice.



The cap is white summer-weight cotton, with a single black ribbon stripe and an embroidered GB logo on the underside of the visor. The crown is rounded. The size is what I would call a Medium.



I have exactly one of these to give away. Leave a comment saying you want it, and I will select the recipient at random. Deadline is Sunday, 18th September, 11:59 pm US Pacific time (which is also the deadline for the Touring Bike entries!) Thanks as always for reading, and enjoy your weekend!

Jurassic Way 3 - Charwelton - Braunston

With Marta. About 9 miles in all. Fine, sunny, coolish wind, muddy underfoot in places. Good food and friendly welcome at the Admiral Nelson in Braunston.



We set off from Charwelton, crossing the road from the packhorse bridge. The path starts on a driveway, but soon turns right across a field, and heads north towards a minor road.









At the minor road, do not take the footpath directly opposite, but turn left and walk for a few yards to another footpath across a cultivated field. You don't go over the disused railway embankment!







The path is clearly marked for most of the way, over cultivated fields and grassland. Just as we arrived at a hedge a large deer leapt out in front of us and dashed away downhill out of sight. A little further on we met a track and needed to run right - this may have been because we followed the field edge instead of cutting through diagonally. A bit of map reading needed there. Keep the radio masts well to the left. We had to walk to the right of the dome showing through the trees - part of Windmill Farm.







The path brought us to the village of Hellidon, source of the River Leam, an attractive out-of-the-way place. We turned left at the Red Lion, then along Stockwell Lane (signposted 'Village Only'.











The church is to the left of the road, and accessed by some steep steps.

We followed the lane through the village, until it became a gated road to Lower Catesby.



After the houses signposting disappeared again. We had to turn right across a field and then follow the boundary over several fields with stiles, but no way marks. Today these fields were some of the muddiest and smelliest I've walked through for some time! We could see Catesby Viaduct, which confirmed that we were pretty well on track.





Our route across the disused railway line led through a gap where once stood a bridge, and at last the ground underfoot was firm enough for us to stop for a quick banana and coffee break.










From here the path was clearly marked through rapeseed and wheat fields, over a few streams via wooden bridges,
uphill to Bates farm building and down into the village of Staverton., over the A425. We took the street to the right of the pub, then past The Green , where there is a Jurassic Way marker, showing the distance to Banbury - 22M, and to Stamford - 66M. At the moment we're averaging perhaps 9 miles per walk! Staverton is one quarter of the way along.

From The Green we went along Oakham Lane, turned right then left into Braunston Lane, which we followed as it became a bridleway. We walked along the bridleway until it turned sharply to the right. At this corner the path led slightly to the left through a field and was easy to follow - over the A45, through more fields, across another dismantled railway line by a bridge and down to the Grand Union Canal, and the Admiral Nelson Inn, where we stopped for lunch before making our way to car number 2.

Top Lock, Braunston through the pub window. Narrowboats were going through in pairs to minimise water use.

Right Up Front

Some readers notice that I always have the front brake lever set up on the right handlebar on my bikes and ask me why, since the opposite arrangement is more typical in the US. The quick answer is that I find the "right front" setup more intuitive and more convenient. I have owned bikes with both "left front" and "right front" setups, and consistently began to notice that I prefer to have the front brake lever on the right handlebar. So at some point we rerouted all of my bikes to have the front brake on the right side, and I've been happy since.



Some reasons why I prefer the "right front" set-up:



. My right hand is slightly dominant to my left, and it makes sense to squeeze the front brake - which is the dominant brake - with my dominant hand.

. On bikes that are coaster brake or fixed gear andhave only the front handbrake, it likewise makes sense to squeeze the sole handbrake with my dominant hand.

. Using the right hand for braking leaves my left hand free to signal turns and traffic maneuvers.

. This one is tricky to describe, but under some conditions I use the front brake as a "stop rolling" device when quickly dismounting my bike, and this maneuver works best when the front brake lever is on the right.

There are different views out there regarding which set-up makes the most sense, and Sheldon Brown has a nice write-up about it here. Ultimately, I think it is up to the individual cyclist to determine which feels more natural to them. And if the setup with which your bike came from the store doesn't feel right, be aware that this is something that can easily be changed by re-routing the brake cables.

High-Vis Rainbike, Anyone?

The past couple of days were rainy and dreary, and I've been sick in bed. Still, I managed to crawl to the door when the bell rang, and take delivery of an enormous package from Urbana Bikes - a Canadian manufacturer that has asked me to review this unusual creation. I opened the box and nearly jumped back from the burst of colour that greeted me. I'd requested a bike in "olive," which on the manufacturer's website looks like this. In person it resembles an exotic poisonous mushroom. "Oh boy, I should have asked for black!" was my initial thought. But as I continued to stare, the neon shade began to grow on me. At least it offered a cheerful contrast to the dark gray skies and pelting rain outside. I dragged the bike outdoors for some quick snapshots, half-hoping the rain would mistake it for the sun and stop... and believe it or not, it did, if only for a few minutes.



The Urbana bicycle is a rather extraordinary cross between a BMX bike, a mountain bike, and a Dutch transport bike with large hauling capacity. But I will elaborate on all of that once it's time to review it. What struck me today, was how remarkably vibrant the "poisonous mushroom" colour looked in rainy weather. I walked away from the bike, stood to the side, turned around partially - but as long as it was even peripherally in my field of vision, it commanded attention. I look forward to comparing my experience in traffic on this "hi-vis" bicycle, to my own, neutrally coloured bikes.



We are still in the process of adjusting the bike's components and I was not in a condition to cycle yesterday anyhow, but I will share my impressions once I begin to ride it. This is the first time I'll be reviewing a bicycle that isn't mine beyond a single test ride, so it should be interesting. I am still ironing out the logistics with the manufacturer, but after my review the Urbana will go to a new home.



Normally I am not a fan of hi-vis anything, but I make an exception in inclement weather and I think that neon bicycles would make good "rainbikes."How many of you ride brightly coloured bikes - either because you prefer the colours, or for the sake of visibility? And do any of you have dedicated rainbikes?

Rutland Round 5 - Normanton to Clipsham

With Marta. Fine, sunny, but cold to start with. Some mud underfoot. Luckily I remembered the way through Clipsham Quarry. Only other small problem was on the way to Tickencote where we missed a turn to the right, but were able to correct easily. Lunch at The Plough in Great Casterton. 14 miles including walk to Yew Tree Avenue.

An early morning shot before leaving one car here

The first two miles from Normanton Car Park on Rutland Water were very simple - follow the yellow brick road, well, the tarmac path, past the café, past Normanton church and the back entrance to the Normanton Park Hotel, and carry on across the dam. Blue sky, blue water, and a chilly north wind. A few cyclists, loads of sheep and the guys inflating those see-through balloons you can be strapped in to roll down the grassy slope behind the dam.



Instead of going through the gate at the end of the dam path, we followed the field edge round, almost turning back on ourselves. We walked along the edge of the wooded area, and shortly after a couple of trig points, or similar objects, there was a stile on our left which led into a field. We spotted the Rutland Way signs for the first time today - and on the stile.

Ten out of ten for clarity!

The signs were easy to follow from this point, leading over fields and through some woodland, until the path emerged into Nook Lane in Empingham. Nook Lane leads to the main A 606. We crossed over to walk past the White Horse pub and along the road through the village. The church was down a small road to the right as we walked straight on.



Just after the end of the village, very soon after Mill Lane, the footpath goes away from the road, up through a short stretch of woodland - Chapel Spinney. A little further along the road after the turn there's a convenient bench for our first stop of the day - a little chilly in the shade, so we didn't linger longer than the few minutes needed to top up the caffeine level.



The path came out of the trees into sunshine and continued along the top edge of several fields. Empingham was now a cluster of houses and the church behind us. We passed a spinney on the right, and continued to follow the path. There may be a waymarker that we missed, but we fought our way thorugh an overgrown section and came out on the concrete path leading towards Tickencote Lodge Farm. We had just walked round the two sides of a triangle instead of the hypotenuse - give or take the accuracy of the right angles.

Tickencote Lodge Farm

We turned right and walked down the track until we met the Rutland Round waymarker pointing back to where we should have walked. Close by was a stile into the next field of recently cut hay, which we crossed diagonally (just south of east) to the next yellow post just before another farm house.



We followed the signs round the house and on to a small road north east for a short distance, before entering a couple of fields and walking in the same direction, the turning slightly to the right.

Tractor tedding hay near Tickencote

We crossed another small road towards Tickencote Hall, and had to brave this signposted danger:








He seemed to be dozing in the shade and showed no interest in us.

Looking towards Tickencote Hall

The path goes past the church of St Peter, which is small but impressive. It was restored at the end of the eighteenth century, but is considered a fine example of a Norman church.

The vaulting

The chancel arch

The East End of the church

We walked through the village to a sign and short section of path which crosses a field, then emerges on to a road near the OK Diner, then goes under the A1 and into Great Casterton. The Plough Inn is right on the route and provided an adequate, though not perfect lunch, with exceptionally friendly service from its new landlord.



Chatter, imperfect map-reading and inattention to the book's instructions almost set us off on the wrong road after lunch - and all on fruit juice at that.



You need to walk along to the junction with the Pickworth road, and turn left past the primary school - or take the narrow lane between houses just before the school sign on the main road. In any case take the road out of Great Casterton past the school and walk along this for a good mile until you reach Mounts Lodge Farm. Opposite here a bridleway leads to the left - almost due west. The path was pretty muddy - puddle-dodging skills honed while you walk.



After a few hundred yards, at the end of the first very big field, we turned right along a grassy track. We continued along this, ignoring any tracks to the right or left, and made our way more or less north towards Pickworth. The signing around here is pretty poor. Just opposite the point where the path meets the road is this medieval arch.

Photograph from 24.11.

The arch, on private land is all that remains of a church from the 12th, 13th or 14th century.

The remains of a lime-kiln, where John Clare worked for a while as a lime-burner. - 18.11.

The lime-kiln is also on private land, and almost invisible in the summer.

We turned left along the road, and walked past the first footpath sign near Manor Farm, and past the limekiln, to find the path we needed, which goes off to the right at a bend in the road. Time for another coffee-break, before tackling the remaining three or four miles.



The path is wide and clear, and we had no trouble finding the point where we turned right across a field towards a strip of woodland marked as Little Sutie on the map. Through this was where I had wandered last time i walked here. The map shows the path diverging slightly from the wood on the right hand side. This time we followed the edge more closely and we found the path through the quarry with no difficulty. Once at the quarry the bridle way is clearly posted.

Clipsham Quarry 24 Nov

The path from the quarry towards Clipsham provided a few earlyish blackberries today. No problems following the route from here as for most of the way it runs between hedges, and the village is clearly visible.



We walked along the Castle Bytham road for about a mile to get back to the Yew Tree Avenue. Fourteen miles on the clock today.