Green Lanes And Tow Paths

It was another gift of a day, very cold, sunshine and too good to be missed. Swapping the narrow tyres of my road bike for the fat ones of my mountain bike I set off after breakfast for an "off road" adventure. Armed with a map and a pair of reading glasses (in order to be able to read the map), I made my way south west towards Atherstone. No snow had fallen just a few miles away from home, but there was a lot of thick ice to be seen everywhere. I picked my way through a series of bridle roads, narrow lanes, field roads and enjoyed the winter scenery.

Crow Lane, meandering across fields from Pinwall to Orton On The Hill

Sheep grazed on frozen frosty fields whilst flocks of fieldfare, having flown south from Scandinavia, harvested the red berries which adorned the otherwise bare hedgerows. There were groups of lapwings searching for grubs amongst the wintering crops and a couple of herons flew up out of way, no doubt searching for toads on dry land as the streams were frozen. I made over to Orton On The Hill and then on to Gopsall Wharf where I turned down onto the towpath of the Ashby Canal.

A frozen Ashby Canal, near to Shackerston. Construction of the canal began at this point in 1795.

The canal passed through woods and past many rural scenes. After Shackerston it follows the Battlefield Steam Railway where the train made it's towards Bosworth just over the field away to my right, a plume of white steam and smoke rising into the cold air, a romantic scene quite opposed to the true industrial origins of both the canal and the railway. The canal wound it's way under cattle and road bridges, over the aqueduct at Shenton, past Albion Hill where Richard III died in the battle of Bosworth in 1485. The whole area was also the location of many skirmishes between Roundheads and Cavaliers during the Civil War too. Eventually I reached Sutton Cheney Wharf where a large group of mallards skated on the ice chasing bread thrown by some children. With a setting sun on my back I made off up Fenny Drayton Lane and took the direct route home.

An unusually named narrow boat moored on the canal. Whether the owner's name, a marine reference or an effort to tell us something else is anybodies guess!

My bike was covered in blocks of mud which froze solid as the sun set and the temerpature dropped further. For the last 5 miles changing gear became an impossibility. I'd been out of the house for between 4 and 5 hours and was quite ravenous. I could hardly wait for bread to be toasted and beans to heat through before eating, and that big steaming mug of tea went down rather well too!