It has its plus points… pretty towns and villages, grand halls with Capability Brown grounds, great swathes of green fields and, for the cyclist at least, easy terrain.
That’s the end of the appeal, though. Cheshire is a county ruled by the motorcar and the idiot motorist.
I endured six hours pedaling around its lanes yesterday desperately trying to escape the traffic but to no avail. I have ridden around these parts on many occasions, but this time I delved deeper. I headed to Congleton via Alderly Edge and skirted back to Kuntsford… a circuit of Jodrell Bank, if you like.
My advice to fellow cyclists would to be to avoid Cheshire A roads at all costs and most of the B roads. All are choked and one out of five behind the wheel are intent on killing you, and in some cases, themselves.
One guy tried to unhook my saddlebag with his wing mirror as he sped by and gave me the one finger salute as he did so. Another failed to slow down and overtook round a blind corner and nearly lodging his 4×4 in between the chunky front tyres of a monstrous tractor.
I am reluctant to generalise, but I was alarmed to note that most people squeezing by me had grey hair. Seems like some folk need a refresher on the Highway Code.
Things got so bad that I found myself thanking those who overtook correctly and left sufficient room.
Cheshire also suffers from dreadful roads. Whether this is freeze-thaw product of the recent cold weather, which has turned sealed road surfaces to rubble, I don’t know. However, my Mavic’s have never endured such a relentless assault.
Perhaps those ludicrous four-wheel-drive monstrosities favoured in these parts are not fashion accessories afterall. They are essential given these dreadful road conditions… the only way to survive.
It was misery, all told. A good workout maybe, but I have never been so relieved to get back home in one piece.
Miles for the week. 150