In Malmesbury: bikin’

August 22, 2022

It’s another day where we half expect to be getting rained out, so it’s encouraging when I look out the window in the morning and see so much blue in the sky. Over breakfast we look at and discuss the weather. It’s improved, and looks promising enough in the morning at least that I decide I’ll take my chances on an out and back, a ride I can bail on if conditions worsen. Not surprisingly, Rachael decides that if conditions do worsen and turn wet she’d rather be on foot than a bike and opts for a walk.

The sky from our room this morning. The day looks more promising than we expected.

It’s quite pleasant when I start out. There’s a modest headwind, it’s an in between temperature so I bike into it with my Bike Gallery jersey unzipped and luffing in the breeze. I noticed that the jersey is starting to wear through in spots, so I’ll need to either retire it or get it mended this winter when we’re back in Portland. I can’t replace it, because the Bike Gallery finally sold out after 47 years in business last year, selling all six of their Portland stores to Trek.

After all the topographic drama of the last month it’s relaxing to just bike along these quiet country lanes, taking in points of interest as they come along. A morning of simple pleasures.

The horse chestnuts and some other trees are starting to turn and drop their leaves. I don’t know if it’s just time or it’s stress from the drought, but it reminds us that autumn is fast approaching.

In Norton: the former water mill, reborn as the Vine Tree, a boutique hotel/pub.

So what’s this? It’s outside of the Vine Tree in Norton.

I thought the name of the manufacturer might help, but it didn’t.

On Fosse Way, originally a Roman Road from the 1st or 2nd century linking Exeter, Bath and Lincoln.

On Fosse Way, near Grittleton: Fosse Lodge, built in 1835.

Also on Fosse Way is Grittleton House. Originally a manor house built in 1660, it’s undergone many revisions and embellishments. Now an event venue, particularly for weddings.

Did RideWithGPS warn me that there would be stretches like this? No, I don’t think so.

I liked the looks of this place in Castle Combe, and thought I might stop off on the way back if it’s open for lunch by then.

The intersection next to Salutation Inn. Should help me find my way back here.

About a dozen miles into this lazy ride the road suddenly dips toward a creek, dropping through a dense woods that’s so dark it’s almost spooky. At the bottom, I’m surprised to realize it’s now lightly misting. It’s not enough to be concerned about so I bike on, climbing out the other side of the depression; but the mist persists, even intensifies a bit. It’s time to assess the situation so I find a wide spot in the road and pull out the phone to check the weather app, if it’s to be believed.

There’s no phone service, I’m in a dead zone; so I start considering the parameters of my situation. I could go either way, but the decider is the fact that we’re storing our bikes in a conference room in a landmark hotel, allegedly the oldest hotel in England. If it gets seriously wet I won’t like showing up at the hotel with a dripping bike and asking them to let me walk it down their hall to the conference room. So I turn back.

It’s startling to suddenly drop through these dark woods. It takes my eyes a few minutes to adjust.

We haven’t seen one of these since we hit Yorkshire.

Interesting design of the windows on this house, with that small upper sash on the right side. Every other window in the house is like this too.

This would all be so much easier if they ripped out those grilles and tiny panes and replaced them with proper single-pane windows. A few quick swipes with a squeegee, and done!

It never really rained after all, but the sky definitely had that look. I felt like I’d done the smart thing for a change.

It mists most of the way back to Malmesbury, never enough to be unpleasant or a concern, but just enough to make me feel justified in my decision to turn back. A few miles from town it stops, and I’m basically dry when I pull up to the hotel.

After one of the receptionists walks down the hall with me and unlocks the conference room, I probe her to see what she thinks about the fact that the hotel was sold to a pair of Texans last year. I half expect to hear some hesitancy or displeasure, but she surprises me by her enthusiasm. She said she stayed here as a guest three or four years ago and it was pretty unattractive, everything an uninspiring, dull beige. She loves the place now and what’s been done with it by the new owners. She stepped in to check it out about a half year ago, decided she had to work here, and applied for a position.

After I’ve returned to the room and changed clothes I grab the camera with the plan to look around town before the rains come. On the way through the hotel I stop for a few more shots on the way out the door.

I don’t get far in my exploration of the town. A block from the hotel I look across the street and see Outlaws, a barber shop that attracts me. I’ve been stalling around getting a haircut for about a month, but this place looks appealing and I see an empty chair so I stop in. A young woman, Chelsea, clips away for the next 20 minutes and gradually warms up as we inch our way into a conversation. She does a nice job, the best that can be hoped for with this old head, and at the end holds out the card reader to bill me £15. Can I leave a tip, I ask? Not on the card she says so I pay her in cash instead, handing her a twenty and feeling like I’ve gotten a bargain.

The trip to the barber costs more than I thought at first though. I stop on the other side of the street to take a photo of the storefront and realize I don’t have my glasses with me. I check back with the barber, but they’re not there. I’m doubtful, but maybe I didn’t bring them with me after all and they’re back in the room.

Not there though, so when I’m out again later I check first at the hotel desk - maybe I set them down taking a photo earlier - and then return to the barber. We look around together, underneath the furniture to see if they got kicked out of sight somewhere. Then Chelsea looks out the window and sees them in the middle of Gloucester Street. Too late. Much too late.

A barber shop! I’ve been threatening to get a haircut for a month now but keep procrastinating. It’s here, a chair’s clear, the cost’s not dear (only £15!). No excuses.

Sad. Fortunately they were very inexpensive, I have a backup, and I didn’t really like them anyway.

Heart

Comment

Link

Ride stats today: 26 miles, 1,200’; for the tour: 2,056 miles, 123,600’

Today's ride: 26 miles (42 km)
Total: 2,055 miles (3,307 km)

Rate this entry's writing	Heart	12
Comment on this entry	Comment	5

Suzanne GibsonAnd where's the picture of the haircut?
Reply to this comment
2 years ago

Keith Adams"After all the topographic drama of the last month it’s relaxing to just bike along these quiet country lanes, taking in points of interest as they come along. A morning of simple pleasures."

And that was all the more description I needed to understand *exactly* how you felt. Well done.
Reply to this comment
2 years ago

Patrick O'HaraYeah! You usually post a photo of your haircut. This is an important bi-annual event for your readers! LOL:)
Reply to this comment
2 years ago

Susan CarpenterAnd we all stomp the floor and/or pound the table - "Hair Cut, Hair Cut, Hair Cut"
Reply to this comment
2 years ago

Kathleen Jones“Hair Cut Hair Cut Hair Cut”
Reply to this comment
2 years ago