June 29, 2022
Washingborough to Torksey
car boot and beer with Dave
Dave and I haven't cycled together as much as we'd hoped, but today looks set to be a nice one with sunshine forecast later on and we decide to head out to a car boot sale at Torksey. Dave has never been and he just might find some cheap plants or CDs. You just never know what people will have on their stalls.
My cannondale barbag has gone to a buyer on eBay and so have my SPD sandals, so it's a case of riding in my clunky Crocs and making do with the saddlebag, which is about to get posted, too. My tripod has also gone in the mail and I'm now just using a Gorillapod for any self-timed shots. I may take a couple.
It's a bit grey heading into Lincoln, along the riverside path then past the red-brick Titanic Works - where aircraft were made during World War I - but it's late June and we know it won't be bad. It's still quite early in the day and the night's dew has yet to get burned off.
Just after cruising under Pelham Bridge, opened by Queen Elizabeth in 1958, we arrive at the station and our bikes after buying hot coffees, soon get wheeled on a train that leaves at just gone 11 o'clock. It's only 10 minutes later that we get off at Saxilby, which might seem fairly decadent, but it saves us 30 or more minutes of cycling and means we should get to Torksey just as the car boot opens at noon.
Heart | 2 | Comment | 0 | Link |
The sun comes out and there's no traffic on the back lane from Saxilby to Torksey. Dave tells me he once drove along this quiet route, but this is the first time he's cycled it. It only takes a few minutes to go past a string of modern bungalows on Sykes Lane and reach open countryside.
Wheat is growing and swaying in the breeze. there are are or two houses here and there, but we don't see anyone in teh 20-odd minutes it takes to reach Torksey. It's basically a village that lines a now-busy A road, which undoubtedly was just a track a century ago. We ride along it for five minutes before turning into a field where cars are parked in a series of rows and make our way to the gate.
Our bikes get locked to a tall, wire fence at the the entrance and we each pay a quid and start looking around the dozen rows of stalls.
Heart | 0 | Comment | 0 | Link |
Heart | 1 | Comment | 0 | Link |
There's a guy with odd and ends in boxes, one of which has an assortment of cycling gear. There's a pair of new pedals that look tempting, but I've just sold a pair on eBay. These are double-sided - with SPD clips on one side. There's no Shimano markings, so I pass. The guy also has a Victorian hopper and when he drops the price to a fiver it seems reasonable to get it for Ruby's small collection.
After that, Dave and I split up, with him having a penchant for vinyl and CDs. I'm more into junk. I spot some plants for sale and know he might be interested in the small hostas, as they're cheap. Apart from three old brass candlesticks for Ruby, I don't see anything else worth writing home about, but sure enough, when I circle back, Dave has spotted the hostas and buys two and pays a mere 50 pence.
It's a struggle to get the cast iron hopper in my saddlebag. It's a hefty lump. However, Dave has little problem popping the small hostas into the side pockets of his saddlebag and we set off back to Saxilby..
We 're ready for a bite to eat when we get to Saxilby and Scrummies just past the train station appeals. A couple of tables are outside in the sun and we get one and order Today's Speacial: homemade pie and veg. The display case inside has triffle and as it's donkey's years since I had some, it's time to treat myself.
Ruby is not at home when we call at her home, so we leave the brass candlesticks and the hopper outside her door after giving her a call. She'll be back shortly.
Instead of using our return train tickets, we opt to loop north around the village on a quiet road, which is preferable to cycling on what is deemed a cycle path, but which is just the narrow strip beside a very busy road. It'll only add 20-odd minutes to the ride back to Lincoln.
It's pretty warm now, as we expected it to be. Cycling is thirsty work and when we arrive at the Pyewipe Inn, we pop in and have half a pint each, sitting inside, out of the sun. There's just us two. It's tempting to have more, but we have a little way to go yet and know there are other options.
It turns out one is my friend Maggie's house, on the western edge f Lincoln. I haven't seen her for some years - she's been out when I've called both times during this UK trip. Now retired and widowed, she invites us into her garden and before long we're sipping the contents of chilled bottles of Carona and catching up on recent events.
her garden is a nice haven and it's a surprise to hear she's selling teh place. It's all due to noisy neighbours - students who are renting the adjacent house.
Dave and I don't get too far after leaving Maggie's tranqil garden. We go in one chain restuarant and wait to be served, which doesn't happen within 10 minutes, so we opt to get back on the baike and double back to a pub I've never been in - The Horse and Groom. When I was younger, it was a bit out of the way and was definately unfashionable. This early evening it's busy with students, what with the uni being nearby - plus customers who like an outside seat and a bit of fresh air on a mid-summer night.
That includes Dave and myself. We have pints of Landlord and order some pub grub - steak and ale pie - before cycling the five kilometres back to Washingborough.
Heart | 1 | Comment | 3 | Link |
I also have this local blog on the go, which is updated sporadically...
https://www.cycleblaze.com/edit-journal/864/
2 years ago
Today's ride: 25 km (16 miles)
Total: 1,196 km (743 miles)
Rate this entry's writing | Heart | 4 |
Comment on this entry | Comment | 0 |