Yet more adventures from the Diary of the Intrepid Lone Cyclist !
This’ll do for these now I suspect - I don’t want to bore those who take the time to read my scribblings (it doesn’t normally stop you I hear you cry)
This day saw me pedalling for all I was worth through the back roads of Lincolnshire - once again !
Destination Brocklesby Park
I say destination Brocklesby Park, that was the goal but I was, rather foolishly, sans map. This shouldn’t be a problem but I’m not exactly Christopher Columbus in the Navigational Sense !
I felt eventually after a couple of wrong turns I must be somewhere near. Spotting a man leaning against a pickup truck I dismounted and approached.
Excuse me ! Could you tell me where Brocklesby Park is ?
“You’re in it” came a laconic reply
Such was his demeanour I suspected he either owned the entire estate or could care less whether I was actually at my destination or facing a runaway train.
Brocklesby Park has thrown up something very interesting, well to me at least.
John Harrison a man of great historical importance and sadly under-appreciated both in his own lifetime and now (except for those of us in the know that is)
He was a revolutionary clockmaker and along with his brother have an association with the estate. One of their first commissions was to produce a clock for the Pelham family stables. This was a revolutionary clock in that it needed no lubrication.
I won’t bang on about this, simply urge you to read a the superb book Longitude written by Dava Sobel.
Once again I found myself at a church and stopped to for a breather and to take in the ambience of the place.
The churchyard was beautifully kept up and once again I began to wonder whose footsteps I was following.
The access was little more than a track way and the tracks that were once travelled by wooden cart wheels now gave way to carbon fibre but stood there it seemed that my presence was the only thing around me that was different from 100s of years ago - I almost felt like a trespasser.
The graveyard was so peaceful it brought to mind the phrase laid to rest
I’m not that keen on burial, especially at the moment, but when the time comes just torch me and toss the ashes - it no longer matters. This place however did make think - I could actually be laid to rest here and find peace.
Strange and alien feelings to me
I’ve got several things from these trips. A renewed understanding of just how much Lincolnshire has to offer.
An increased interest in history and, without making too much of it, a sense of having touched the past somehow !
I’d like to write some ‘deeper stuff’ on the site and indeed I may well do. It will be an indulgence and hopefully regular readers will forgive me for it - should I actually go ahead with it of course.
Rest assured there will still be posts to, hopefully, appeal to all tastes.
All the best
A Reflective Rod