Go east young man

What is it about the East? West of Sheffield we have the fabulous Peak District, an easy ride with just a little tussock of a hill betweeen us and there, or the Hope Valley train if you want to cheat. To the North lies the Rust Belt, forty miles of post-industrial wasteland before the Dales beckon. South lies the Promised Land, where the cycle routes are paved with gold or at least tarmac. But east? East lies an hours (at least) worth of suburbia before you so much as see a hint of countryside. If you take the trail it's a litany of broken glass, stolen cars, roaring motorbikes and rough surfaces. On the road, the man with the biggest 4x4 rules. You'd take the train, but on a Sunday morning that train don't run here anymore.

Still the east calls to me. There's something about that corridor of green running along the Parkway, those patches of ancient forest amongst the urban squalor, the shoots of renewed vigour in an exhausted and depleted scene.

If you manage to make it out of town, Rother Valley will offer you a cup of your favourite beverage, and once you've made it up that last hill, there is rolling countryside to enjoy. Worksop might not have too much to entice you, beyond an easy canal route through town, and you might not want to linger long in Manton town, but beyond this Clumber Park and Sherwood Forest await, with plenty of off-road to tire you out and greenery to sooth your aggravated brain. Lincolnshire and the Wolds await you further east, and if you head south through Nottinghamshire you might just find yourself in Nottamun Town, sampling the ales in the Trip to Jerusalem or the Lincolnshire Poacher.

So I say - head east young man! you won't regret it.