Leaving Hucclecote, as has become normal, cycling down Green Lane and crossing through a cycle gate into Lobley's drive and swung left towards Upton St Leonards. Upton is quite a rare beast in as much as it is maintains the proper village feel. It has a church, a school, a village hall and precious little else. The body of the village has been there since time immemorial and subsequent building has been sympathetic to the village. There has been a relentless growth from Brockworth and more so from Abbeydale/Abbeymead that have threatened to encroach on this little idyll (by appearance at least) but have not, in my opinion succeeded. Similarly, growth could easily have turned the area into just another suburban housing estate.
St Leonard's Church
Upton St Leonards primary school as viewed from the churchyard.
War memorial and entrance to Church grounds.
Fighting the urge to head uphill towards Painswick, after all it's hard enough to haul my sorry 15 stone arse around on the flat at the moment let alone any roads that head up, I left Upton on a road called the Ash Path. As a kid in the early eighties, I have fond memories of this road. It now joins Upton and Abbeydale crossing the M5 to do so. I remember it as a road that didn't quite. For many years it failed by maybe 50 metres, the road going nowhere. Not stopping in Abbeydale, I cross Painswick Road and head into Matson. This picture shows Matson as the council estate with the dry ski slopes on Robinswood Hill in the background. The ski centre has recently been on the market with a guide price of 1.5 million; I did consider it, of course.
A chap was on his way home from his night shift one very foggy morning around 6.30.am and was riding his moped up Matson lane, past the Moat School and up toward's Robin's farm and as he was passing St Katherine's Church, he glanced to his right at the churchyard and could just make out an eerie ghostly face of what appeared to be the face of a horned devil in the graveyard, looking right back at him and transfixed, turning his head over his shoulder in disbelief as he drove past, he nearly crashed his moped.
Filled with horror ! He sped home as fast as his bike would go and when he got home, his wife was up getting ready for work and was shocked to see her husband, stagger in, the blood drained from his face and looking as white as a sheet. He went to the drinks cabinet and poured himself a very large Whiskey, then told her what he saw and sat there for half an hour in shock.
His wife alarmed at his state, phoned the police, who sent a police car up to the church, where they found...........
A COW ! That had strayed from a nearby field, into the graveyard and promptly fell into a freshly dug, unused grave ! It's head, was just visible from the road and the police apparently, couldn't stop laughing. Later making arrangement's for the cow to be removed, as there was a funeral later that day and a new resident was ready to move in and use the grave.
Finally, and sadly, this is a more familiar image of Matson. The closed Musket pub. Not only is this an all too familiar site nationally, in an area like Matson, it is another indication of the erosion of the communal 'village' type atmosphere.
Total distance - 17Km
Average Speed - 26 KM/h
Weather - about 8C, Few showers, Gentle Westerly wind