Helly Hansens on, bike out of the shed & water bottle filled up, it's time for a ride down to Buckenham for a bit of fresh air & futile attempt to feel fit & healthy.

Approached from the Cantley end British Sugar looms large, & it's not too pretty. But from this way around I'm always facing the other way so don't really notice it, (in fact after about ten years I stopped noticing it at all, just look upon it with a vague curiosity). So across the rail taking the path over the marsh. It's below the river level so I'm feeling a real part of the watery habitat. This time it takes about 200 yards till I've sunk into the mud so many times that carrying the bike seems a better option, & although the crossbar presses hard on my shoulder I can't help looking around & feeling good.  With all the Wildfowl, Gulls and Lapwing,  there's always something flying to take my  mind off the mud. Until that is, my  shoe gets sucked off & I feel that cold  and clammy grip around my now sodden sock, laden with an inch of black ooze. Of course I've taken a few steps to steady myself &  have to sink my exposed foot in a few times more before getting that shoe back on !

Once on the river bank it's back to cycling & the pleasures of the infinite number of bumps & holes , jarring my bones and bringing the onset of an overall numbing of the extremities.  I mustn't take my eye off the ball either otherwise it's into an old rut over the handlebars and I'll have a muddy head as well as foot, I've fallen off the bike a few times along this stretch but never hurt myself so I'm feeling lucky today.

Rolling along the bank there are magnificent views of both sides of the river, hardly any boats this time of year so it all feels wonderfully remote. Up to Hassingham Beck & a stop for a flapjack. I lean back to enjoy the peace , the odd Marsh Harrier's  around, & closer in I can't miss pairs of Stonechat and Reed Bunting. There's a Grebe on the river, in amongst the obligatory handful of Coot and flock of Greylag that have chosen the safety of the water upon my arrival.

Doesn't take long to get cold so over the style & more manageable mud up towards the mill.

Hang on, where's the hide ? Old railway sleepers, standing to attention, are all that remain, hope another one goes up , many a happy hour's been spent hanging around in there over the years, bit sad that it's no more. Nice view of the dyke though & the Wigeon don't seem at all perturbed by  my presence.

On harder ground now it's an all out  blast through the puddles, generally get dirty and wet enough to have had a good time & prove (a delusion of course) that I'm still young enough to enjoy it.

Over the line again & it's another five miles of easy backing westerly that takes me home to the fire and a scalding cup of tea.

Wilds of Norfolk was set up because of our unquenchable enthusiasm for the Norfolk Broads,  our small part of the natural world. We thought we'd like to try and give something back by helping other people enjoy the countryside and it's wildlife as well as do our own little bit to promote an interest in the natural world and it's conservation , not only for the wildlife but for the sheer exuberance of the precious life we're lucky enough to get the chance to live.

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