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Bike Touring Journals by Neil Anderson and Sharon Anderson

Bicycle touring journals

June 25 Sunday sunny 32ยบ C Bicycle touring England

We make a fairly early move to continue of bicycle tour in England before we get pitted in too well. Maybe I'll just make a grocery run back to Newbury?

We cruise along on our fully loaded touring bicycles on quiet back lanes in a southwesterly direction, heading towards Stonehenge.

The wind is more or less behind us which buoys our minds and spirits. It's much better to bicycle ride with the wind than against it. We sail on our touring bicycles between English countryside hedgerows on a tailwind high.

Some towns are having a fair today. We've cycled past a couple of villages getting ready. At English town of Inkpen (I love that name!) we cycle past some kids on ponies who are being led by their mothers to the fair grounds.

A crew of campers watch us pedal by. They must have spotted my Canadian flag on the back of my bicycle because I hear one chap yell out to us on our fully loaded touring bicycles, "Cycled all the way from Canada!?" Ho. Ho. Ho. That old chestnut gets very dry indeed once one has heard it for the thousandth time.

I yell back, "Yep, we had to paddle instead of pedal."

Near the Wilton windmill, we cycle across a beautiful blooming field of deep vivid blue flowers. I thought they were flax, but we found out later they are cornflowers.

We enjoyed the view of the blue field of cornflowers as we snuggled down out of the wind for a bite to eat. Upon finishing our lunch, Sharon rode her fully loaded touring bicycle into the field on a tractor path, so I could take a picture of the field. She even removed her helmet for the shot, so I could capture her flowing golden hair with the field of blue.

We cycled onto the Salisbury Plain. The Salisbury Plain is an area where the military practices exercises and maneuvers. Numerous times we had cycled past signs warning of tank crossings. Guess they have the right of way, eh?

We saw some military equipment kicking up dust across a field. There's not much on the Salisbury Plain except for the odd clump of trees on the odd hilltop. The trees, we were told, were planted by farmers long ago to give the area "majesty."

We stop cycling to admire Woodhenge. Long ago, there were circles made of standing posts, but they have long since rotted away. The location where the posts once were is marked by low concrete posts.

A map shows the area. There is a military road that goes toward Stonehenge and then there is a walking path that goes the rest of the way to Stonehenge.

We get back on our touring bikes and cycle the back route to Stonehenge, definitely off the beaten path. We are on a walking path beside a farmer's field on our right. Sheep graze in a huge field to our left. The walking path is fenced between these two fields.

We cycle over a small rise and glimpse our first sight of Stonehenge's famous standing stones. We are still a ways off from Stonehenge and still the stones look incredibly huge. I take a picture of Stonehenge with my 200 mm telephoto, with sheep in the foreground.

We cycle to Stonehenge's parking lot. It is 6:30 PM, but the parking lot is full. There is a fence around the monument. They charge to go inside the fence, but you still have to stay on a paved path that goes around the stones. You can't go inside the circle or touch the stones. We opt to be a few feet farther away for free.

The stones are massive. How did they ever manage to get those top stones up there 5000 years ago? Amazing that they are still standing, too.

In the parking lot there are two huge stones for visitors to look at and touch. One is a Sarcen stone, the other is a blue stone.

The Druid's had their ceremony for a mid-summer's day on the June 22. On the June 21, the stones were heavily guarded against intruders. Still, seven people were arrested.

We pedalled back onto the Salisbury Plain. Soon the rocks were out of sight.

We pedalled along, looking for an area that might be good for free bicycle camping. Areas on the Salisbury Plain with trees are sparse and few between.

We cycle until 8 PM and finally spotted a clump of trees. As we approach, a military sign with tiny writing fills up an entire 2 foot by 3 foot sheet at the entrance to the road we wish to cycle to get to the trees. Unfortunately, the sign is too dirty to read. We cycle up the road and slip with our fully loaded touring bikes into the thin cluster of trees.
We'll be fine here I assure Sharon. As long as no one comes around. Who would come around this place on a Sunday night?

We lay our orange tarp down. I hear a rustling in the underbrush. Then, a black and white animal, about the size of a small pig, with a shrew-like face trundles out. We are downwind from it, so it hasn't smelled us. It finally spots us and lumbers inelegantly back into the bushes. We wonder if it will come back tonight.

Sharon says she keeps getting a whiff of something foul and sour smelling. I say it isn't me and look around before pointing to a dugout hole. We surmise that's probably the smelly back and white animal's den.

Being so close to the smelly animal's home, we decide we should move. Sharon goes off to reconnoiter another clump of trees nearby. She comes back with a favourable report. I begin to push my fully loaded touring bike out of the stand of trees. As I do, I notice a military Jeep across from us on an opposite ridge.

I tell Sharon to wait while I watch it. The Jeep turns down the ridge and comes toward the main highway. I wonder if it will go down the highway, or will it come up this dirt track toward our position.

I don't have to wait long as I hear the vehicle's tires scrunch onto the gravel track. I hastily push my touring bicycle back into the shrubs. The Jeep passes within a few feet from us, without seeing us. It turns right beside us and drives along a little-used path along the ridge of a farmer's field.

We wonder if we should try to make it to the other patch of trees before the Jeep driver comes back. Sharon says the other clump of trees is thicker and he probably wouldn't be able to see us.

Unfortunately, we don't have time to get our touring bikes out of the brush and across to the other clump of tress before we hear the whine of the Jeep's engine approaching.

The Jeep comes back across the clearing and drives directly towards us. It passes by. We are still holding our breath when the Jeep stops. It backs up.

The horn honks twice. The driver calls out, "Come on out. I see you." Drat. We push our fully loaded touring bikes out of the clump of trees (luckily we hadn't set up our bicycle touring tent or unloaded any of our cycling gear).

"What were you doing in there?" he asks.

"We just stopped to take a leak," I tell him. "There's not many bushes around here to pee behind."

"Do you know you're on military land?" Without waiting, he answers his own question. "Of course, you don't," he says. Then he asks, "Where are you headed?"

"Warminster," I say (an English town I had noticed on our map that we'll probably make it to sometime the next day).

"Okay," he says. "Come down behind me."

We get our fully loaded touring bikes out of our free camping spot and begin to follow. Then I realize I have a flat front tire. Must be some thorns amongst that clump of trees.

I get off and push my bike down to the bottom of the road. At the main road, we stop and put on a new tire (Michelin World Tour) and cycle off towards Warminster.

Phew. Luckily we didn't have the tent already set up. If it hadn't been for that smelly civet cat (?), we would have already had our little cycle touring tent set up. I could just hear myself trying to explain the tent to the officer. "That sir, is an outdoor loo. Yes, sir, of course it is. We Canadians like a little privacy when we pee."

We cycle down the road until we see a sign that says: Byway No M.O.D. (Ministry of Defense) Vehicles. There's also a sign depicting a tank with a large red slash through it, and another with an army truck with a large red slash through it.

That is what we've been looking for. We cycle down a rocky lane and set up our two-person Kelty bicycle touring tent behind a clump of trees next to a barbwire fence.

Our bicycle ride was a nice sunset ride, but for a while there, we weren't sure we were going to find somewhere to camp. A tourist brochure we picked up for the Salisbury Plain states the plain as being "widely spaced woods." Very widely, I'd like to add. Especially if one is looking for a private free camping spot while on touring bicycles.

Stars begin to prick the night as we set up our little bicycle touring tent.

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