Matt's Website

Looking back at my rides over the years, it’s clear that I’m drawn to cycling among trees.

At its heart, departure is deceptively simple.

At the hire place, we were greeted by the sight of hundreds – and I mean hundreds – of neatly parked bikes.

I firmly believe that adventures are for every day, and also that every day should have an adventure.

Sadness overwhelmed me in the night, and at daybreak I gave up on sleep and slipped downstairs to rouse the dog.

You’ve probably seen them, the commuters, expertly folding or unfolding their Bromptons.

I exercise to escape, not connect.

We woke in the little village of Dent to the deep sound of a storm rolling across the Yorkshire Dales.

Balance bikes are beautiful, simple things.

When a mysterious green knight arrives at Camelot, young Gawain is the only one of Arthur’s retinue brave (or foolish) enough to accept his challenge: strike him with his axe, but take a return blow in a year and a day.

As much as I love variety in my walks, I think there’s also something special about the way a place reveals itself slowly to you over repeated journeys.

The wind can make or break a bike ride.

Hello.

In the sleepy Gloucestershire countryside stands a village born from a bold idea: winning political power and economic independence for working people through land ownership.

Walking along the foreshore never gets old.

We are in the middle of a long and rainy British winter.

The days between Christmas and New Year are my favourite of the season, an emptiness into which hours tumble as life remains on hold.