Tuesday, 4 November 1924 Beeston and Whitegate

Today was a striking contrast to last Sunday, the morning was calm, sunny but a trifle cold, and a light mist made the visibility poor.  I could not get out until 11.30, but I set a rare pace to make up for lost time.  I bethought myself of how grand Beeston looked the other week, so I decided to get out that way again.  Quickly reaching Glazebury, I sped across Chat Moss to Warburton.  On the bridge I stayed a moment to watch a passing ship, then paying the toll, I very soon came to Heatley, Broom Edge and High Legh.  Now the Budworth road, winding, twisting, with fallen leaves crackling beneath my tyres.  At Gt. Budworth I stopped at a little place for lunch at 1.10pm.  At 2pm I was on the road again, passing quietly down the village street, and crossing the Northwich road, then made towards Comberbach: with Budworth Mere below me, a beautiful sheet of water, and Marbury Hall on the far bank, just below the road.

From Comberbach, the winding lanes led me to Little Leigh, then I swooped down into the Weaver valley, to Acton Bridge, and uphill again, over Acton station to Milton, Crowley, and still climbing, I came to Norley, on the edge of the Delamere Forest.  At Hatchmere, I took a pleasant road to Delamere, then through the forest glade, still garbed in autumn fashion, till I crossed Chester road at the Vale Royal Arms.  A pleasing, meandering road, took me now to Cotebrooke.  Still maintaining a steady pace, I came to Eaton, a pretty little village, and once more plunged into the bylanes.  The wonderful ruin of Beeston came into view, then a few moments later, I started to drop to Beeston Brook.  Uphill again, then the castle gates, and now I threw off my pace, and started to potter.  I made the circuit of the walls, to the side where the ruined wall stands on the edge of the coloured precipice.  I peered over the wall by the roadside, where, as expected, I found the tyre of unhappy memories – I will make a point of looking for it every time I pass this way.  A bylane now led me over a canal and the railway, from the bridge of which (the former) I watched several aeroplanes flying southwards.  The cattle in the fields ran about, terrified at the noise.  Then Birch Heath, and the outskirts of Tarporley.  Crossing the main road, I joined a wonderful bylane, through some fine woods to Eaton again, thence straight along to Oulton Mere (the white swan was still there) and through that all-too-short woodland wonder, Oulton Mere to Little Budworth.

Came a grand run through byways to Whitegate in glorious Vale Royal, at 5pm.  At length, I crossed Chester road, and by devious ways reached Tarporley road.  I had now to light up, then I followed many strange byways, running at length on the Acton – Frodsham road at Milton.  Then over the station, and down to the Weaver.  A moment later, I concluded my run to tea at Mrs Brocklehurst’s at 5.45pm.  Off again at 7, I kept along Tarporley road, through Stretton, and down to Stockton Heath.  The night was yet young, and I in fine form, so I joined the Lymm road via Grappenhall, then Thelwall, and so along to Lymm, then I came again to Heatley.  Lamp trouble had dogged me (as last Sunday), so giving it a thorough clean-out, I made to Warburton.  Then, as last Sunday, Chat Moss, Glazebury and Atherton, brought me to the conclusion of a wonderful day awheel.  My form has been excellent, and the time short, but I managed to knock out a decent ride, many miles longer than my club run in the same glorious district.                                                                         104 miles

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