The weather has been impressively unsettled and stormy - while it never gets that cold, this close to the Atlantic we get strong gales and rain driving off the sea. It's exciting watching our furniture being blown around the garden and the upside to the exposure is the bad weather never hangs around for long - but it can make finding a decent window for a ride a bit of a challenge (unless you want to be fighting against a 45mph wind).
So one nice day and tolerable breeze makes for another good opportunity to explore. In my idle hours I'd mapped out a route looking around the east this time - perhaps foolishly rather longer and hillier than before, though with less gnarly off-roading.
The idea this time would be to ride on some of the official cycleways set up through (a rare piece) of extensive woodlands at Tehidy manor meeting a wild section of coast at Portreath. Then I'd pick up the "mineral tramways", which are rail trails built over the extensive transit network that used to serve the vast tin and copper mines inland. This would take me into the abandoned mining district, and I could follow them (and national cycle route 3) via Redruth and Camborne back home. I was so keen on avoiding the roads for large stretches I wasn't really thinking about the 60+ km and 1,000 metres of climbing.
The first stretch would take me out of Hayle following NC route 3, east along one of the huge pools (Copperhouse) that used to serve the Victorian metal refineries. Once safely over the A30 I followed my own route through Angarrack and out over the daffodil fields to Connor Downs.
The tide flowing out of Copperhouse pool on this beautiful blowy day. The pools were so heavily used for metal working 150 years ago they can now no longer be dredged without disturbing large amounts of Cadmium and Arsenic in the sediments. None of this bothers the wildlife though - the pools are full of birds.
My lungs and legs had a shock immediately after leaving the flat path by the pool. The van at the end waited for me the entire time I was climbing, which on one hand was very kind, but also a bit painful as I crawled up the hill at 3mph.
Soon I was climbing away from the coast, leaving Hayle behind. The hills visible on the other side are extensive sand dunes, which run all the way east around the bay.
The roads were very quiet, but I was still looking forward to trying out some of the off-road ways. From Connor Downs I'd plotted a somewhat circuitous route through an incredibly dense network of tracks that would get me to Merry Meeting, where I could cross the (dualed and scary) A30 again and strike off towards Tehidy.
Even after the recent heavy rain, I was pleased to see the bridleways had a decent surface, albeit with a few puddles
The tracks went on and on, and while a bit rough in places necessitating some pushing, was mostly a pleasure. This stretch turned into a stony river which I spun through at speed. Can't believe I rode without mudguards for so long.
After crossing the main road it was back onto the tarmac and downhill all the way into the Red River valley. I would be following the tracks following the river (stream, really) upstream all the way into Tehidy.
Coming over the hill, the sea peeked through as the north coast became visible again at Godrevy. The blue of the sea and the fluorescent green fields made this look more like summer than February.
The entrance to the cycleway crosses the rather tiny stream of the Red River. The river is no longer red, but in the 19th century so much tin and copper was washed into it from the mines of the Great Lode that it was crimson, and many freelancers made a living extracting tin from the outwash.
The trail by the river was deserted and easy riding - perfect. From there I entered Tehidy, which is a big country park surrounding the manor that for 700 years belonged to the Bassett family. Rarely in Cornwall, this includes extensive woodlands following the comparatively lush valleys.
A few locals were around today, but the paths weren't crowded as I picked up the track to Portreath (near a hamlet apparently called Travellers Rest). Portreath is in an isolated position, and can only be approached by a rather wild coast road and a narrow valley leading to the sea. As such, it's best to stay off the narrow and windy roads, and I was glad to be able to follow a traffic-free route over the golf courses.
Into the lush woods in Tehidy. Apparently there is a travelling theatre here somewhere that live all year around in the woods.
Useful board showing the extensive network of cycleways following the mining trails. I'd be follow Tehidy (orange) to Portreath (green), then (blue) via Cambrose to Twelveheads. Then (red) into the St. Day mining country, and the national cycleway 3 (black) back to Redruth and Camborne.
For the final descent down to Portreath, I abandoned the elaborate off-road stretch and bombed down the 10% gradient on the main road for a exhilarating drop down to the sea in the narrow inlet. The water was bright blue and the waves were crashing crazily into the beach. It was fresh.
A very wonky photo taken as I bomb down into Portreath (I was going about 55kph at the time, so really should have been looking where I was going).
Portreath is squeezed into the narrow valley and inlet. It was established as a private port and company town in the 18th century, connected by a spectacular railway inland (now gone) and grew, amazingly, to become Cornwall's most important port. Because of the difficult of access apart from the railway, people and goods could only enter the town by paying heavy tolls to the owners.
The sinuous road out of Portreath along the coast doesn't get far before it hits a dead end. You can't drive or cycle easily this way (you can walk, but only on the precipitous coast path).
The only real other road out of Portreath goes back inland via the Portreath valley. Again, I was happy to avoid riding on this, picking up the mineral tramway that starting here goes all the way to the harbour on the south coast at Devoran. I dodged schoolkids coming out the park as I set off. Portreath seems a really nice, but quite isolated community, despite the relatively short distances.
I generally followed the mineral tramways, apart from some ill-advised diversions of my own (to take in some "extra" offroad sections). I rejoined it soon and it took me to Wheal Rose and the start of the mining district - Wheal is Cornish for "mine". Remnants of the old tin, copper and arsenic mines were everywhere - with the iconic granite pump-house buildings being particularly distinctive.
One of my off-track diversions turned out to be pretty good. Quickly the landscape became quite heath-like, with gorse and stony tracks.
Most of the mine buildings are accessible, and many of the ruined ones you can walk inside. The shafts themselves have of course been blocked for safety.
Getting close to an old mine pump house. You can see how the building itself is built of heavy blocks of granite, like many of the old buildings in Cornwall - while the chimney is more modern (probably Victorian) brick
Well this is confusing on a number of levels. It took me a while to figure out it's supposed to be a pun on TR1 (i.e. the postcode for Truro). But the shop isn't even in Truro?
After crossing the A30 at a convenient point where the narrow section where the highway and the railway are squeezed together in the valley, I crossed through the middle of a larger mine, Wheal Busy. After taking some shots of the impressive remaining mine buildings, I crossed the mine, only to be rudely disturbed by a squelching sound coming from my front wheel. My first flat on the road in several years!
It was getting on in the day though, and was pretty cold when I stopped. I wrapped up, ate some chocolate, and switched the tube out while having the odd friendly conversation with horse riders going back and forth to the stable. Once I'd fixed it (after a good ten minutes wrestling with the tyre, which hadn't been removed in a while and was pretty tough to get off) I rolled off past them, to the evident amazement of a little boy tending the horses ("you've fixed it!"). I think I was about as surprised as him.
Another good lane. It turned out the stones weren't doing my tyres any good though...
The big ruined building that used to house the forge at Wheal Busy. Until recently, this wasn't even boarded up, and apparently you could wander inside. Probably not the safest, to be fair.
The many pump houses and mine buildings of Wheal busy. The odd little stone bunker-like building on the right was apparently a Brunton calciner, which was used to roast arsenic out the ore. That must have kept them ... *wheal* busy. Ahem.
Changing my tube after the flat. I hadn't needed to do this on the road since when I accidentally rammed a curb in Germany and bent the rim. It was cold and a little frustrating, but I got there.
I set off again, now rather conscious of how late the day was getting, how cold it was becoming, and how the light was fading. I had covered less than half the distance and knew the biggest climbs were ahead of me.
Still, I was over the watershed and in Chacewater could follow the Carnon river downstream towards the south coast. I would follow it as far as the (wonderfully-named) Twelveheads, which was the site of a huge series of ducts (adits) that drained hundreds of mines in the region and still works today.
In Twelveheads I blithely climbed up a hundred metres up a 12% gradient before realising it would only take me back the way I came. Rather exhaustedly I headed back onto track, finally turning back to the west.
From here I would enter the most extensive area of mining, a long strip to the south of Redruth and Camborne that worked The Great Flat Lode. At one time, these mines were considered the most productive of copper and tin in the world, and Redruth was called "the richest square mile on earth".
The mineral cycleways goes right through the middle of these mines particularly the huge Wheal Maid and Consols valley near Goon Gumpas. The landscape isn't just scared from millennia of mining - it's been obliterated so it now resembles Iceland more than Cornwall. It was deserted and cycling through it in the half-light was more than a little eerie.
The preposterous placenames continue (not pictured, "Goon Gumpas").
Information board at the entrance to Wheal Maid. Interesting things on here include that miners used to work at over 500m deep and 40 degrees C (this was in the 18th century) - and that the tailings pool is still full of arsenic.
The heavily despoiled landscape and the toxic tailings pond. Apparently a few years back it dried out in a particularly hot summer, and the bottom looked like the surface of Mars
After leaving the mines, I was losing the light and considered heading for the train at Redruth and bailing, but as I re-entered the lanes and began the climb up to the highest point of the ride (200m) I got something of a second wind. There was no traffic and I was a lot warmer now I was moving.
In Redruth I realised it was seriously dark, and turned on my lights as I cut through thr centre of town, riding with the patient traffic.
I didn't want any more diversion adventures, so kept following the signs and my GPS to stick to the national cycle route 3, which I intended to follow to the neighboring town of Camborne, and then the simplest way possible (avoiding the Angarrack gradient) back to Hayle.
There wasn't much opportunity for photos from this point, but I certainly enjoyed riding under the stars and crescent moon on this clear night.
An exception was when I got a little lost and ended up at this eerie abandoned mine building
By the time I got back to Hayle, I was fairly wasted - I actually managed to overshoot my own house, which was pretty impressive. Not a long ride, but quite a lot of off-roading, and 1,000m climbing in total which is more than I've done in a long time (and about 200m more than I was ever planning to!).
Today's ride: 66 km (41 miles) Total: 177 km (110 miles)
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Kathleen JonesI’m tired from reading about all those hills.
Glad to see how parts of Cornwall really look from the long history of mining. I’ve never seen photos of that aspect of life there. Reply to this comment 2 years ago
Jon AylingTo Kathleen JonesHaha, yeah it's really Wales-levels of hilliness. None of them are particularly tall, but it's hard to find a flat surface anywhere. Today we saw a football pitch with one goal 2 metres higher up than the other.
Yep, the mining industry was pretty vast here, but we don't tend to think of it as being a key part of the industrial revolution and it's easy to forget about it now it's gone (not one mine remains open today). 150 years ago it was industry on a vast scale though - apparently at that time there were more pumping engines in Cornwall than in Europe and the New World combined! Reply to this comment 2 years ago
