Melvich - John O'Groats (Saturday)
Total miles 45.17; total ascent 2198 feet; average speed 11.7mph; max speed 34.7mph; total time in saddle 3 hours 51 minutes.
So this was it. The culmination of a sixteen day journey that had taken me and Russ, a bloke I hardly knew before we started, over nearly 1100 miles. We had stayed in 15 different B&Bs/Guesthouses/hotels, all sharing a room and had not had a cross word between us (well I think I might have raised my voice a bit on day 3 after 95 miles and a destination arrival of after 10pm!) I guess we were bonded together by a common purpose and one that we were both utterly determined to achieve. I think we'd got on tremendously well actually, been incredibly supportive to each other when we needed to be, been respectful of each other's space, had a mutual respect of each other and above all a very similar sense of humour. Furthermore and let's be honest here, saddle sore arses and the need to apply arse cream at various times whilst hiding behind various bushes, walls etc sort of brings you together which ever way you look at it!
Our B&B host served up a decent breakfast of scrambled eggs, smoked salmon and oatcakes and with only 45 off miles to cover we deliberately enjoyed a leisurely start.
The weather was decent, much better than we had become accustomed to in bonny Scotland, good periods of sunshine although it was inevitable that there would be some showers, although this didn't dampen our spirits.
The A836 offered up a long steady climb initially, after which we enjoyed a wonderful sweeping a fast decent into Reay, where I saw Russ pull off in front of me to stop outside the Spar. Not only did we get a few provisions, but also Russ wanted to adjust his back brakes. He'd had new blocks fitted before we started and it was interesting to see them now with only a matter of millimetres left. I guess the weight he was carrying combined with a heavier bike had taken its toll. After a moment of panic when he thought he'd snapped the cable (oh that would have been ironic, so near but a major problem with only a matter of miles to go, I started thinking about our options, me riding and completing and then going back and lending him my bike perhaps...) we were off again.
The most northerly, and not at all inspiring town of Thurso came and went with Russ coming within a couple of inches of being taken out by a four by four driver who simply didn't see him. I wondered again whether we really were going to make it unscathed...we still hadn't had a puncture between us.
I was in regular contact with Larri, who after a drive from our home by Stansted Airport in Essex had driven to Perth on Friday and was making the final push to JoG as we cycled. It was important we didn't arrive before her and we therefore took an excursion to Dunnet Head, the most northerly part of the UK to ensure she did in fact get there before us in time to ready her iphone video and camera!
Eventually we rode into JoG, Larri, bless her we there to video the event, it was so good to just see her after all this time. We had the obligatory pictures in front of the signpost and watched in semi amazement as there seemed to be a steady stream of bikes, tandems, motorbikes arriving, each at the end of their own adventure. Smiles and congratulations all round, we celebrated with a coffee and then a beer before fixing the bike rack to the BMW and Larri drove us to the Navigale House Hotel where we were finally able to properly crash out, drink beer and come to terms with what we had actually achieved.
I shall write more soon, say some really important ‘thank yous’ and post some ludicrous statistics thanks to my Garmin GPS, but for the time being I just needed to tell you all we made it. We bloody well made it! We made it a day earlier than we had anticipated and all in the entire trip had passed by relatively smoothly.
As I write this a day after our 12 hour car journey home, I almost feel a bit numb. I can't really conceive or come to terms with what we have just done. I'm back to work tomorrow and given the morass of issues that will involve from the moment I walk in, I wonder whether our trip will ever really sink in? I fear that perhaps forevermore it will seem merely like a huge dream, with only my blog ramblings to confirm that it actually happened.
All there is really to say now, it to echo what Ally had written by John O’Groats on the map she had prepared for us - PHEW !!
Finally I think I'd like to dedicate this trip to Larri. She has been so brilliantly supportive and quietly encouraging just when I needed it. She has never once been critical of what we were trying to do, although I think for a while she thought us to be mad! She has put up with my moments of stress, doubt and accompanying moodiness. And above all, she undertook the huge task of driving 750 miles on her own to see us cross the finish line, shepherd us to the hotel she had booked and arranged, and then share the driving back home again. Thank you my most gorgeous and wonderful wife x
Monday 30 May 2011
Sunday 29 May 2011
Day 15 - Pleasure Personified
Lairg - Melvich (Friday)
Total miles 58.17; total ascent 2615 feet; average speed 11.0mph; max speed 36.6mph; total time in saddle 5 hours 3 minutes.
What a difference a day makes.
After a really good night’s sleep, we breakfasted, stocked up at the local Spar and set off around 9.30. The forecast was for a good morning but rain mid afternoon and this was 100% accurate. Essentially it’s about 100 miles from Lairg to JoG, and we decided to do nearly 60 today with a small final run tomorrow, when Larri is also due to arrive and hopefully cheer usover the finish line!
The morning/early afternoon’s riding was probably the best we’ve done on the trip. We took the A836 north from Lairg, which, within 4 miles becomes the trademark Scottish single lane with passing places. You know that when this happens the surrounding countryside will be wild and generally everything will feel remote and this was exactly the case today. Although there was no sun, the clouds were high in the sky and visibility excellent. There was also no wind whatsoever so conditions were perfect for us.
The A836 makes a gradual ascent to around 800 feet from a start in Lairg of around 100 feet, so it’s steady climbing for the first hour or so. The scenery was spectacular, we passed through peat bogs, logging areas, woodland, it was bleak but somehow comforting to see and experience so much of the great outdoors untouched by man. The odd car passed by but by and large we felt splendidly isolated and marveled at the wonderful vistas surrounding us.
When we did enter the infrequent areas of population I felt like a cowboy riding into town after a successful bounty hunt. Great stuff!
At Altnaharra we took the B873 and had the most fabulous, largely downhill run. - the best for me of the trip so far. From 800 feet we gradually descended over a distance of nearly 25miles and averaged just short of 15mph. The road surface was perfect and the whole experience splendidly remote. I’d recommend this piece of road to anyone with a bike.
We passed through tiny Hamlets, one in particular Crask, consisted of a farmhouse, a small bungalow and an Inn. Nothing more. Sheep and their lambs grazed at the roadside and Loch Naver was beautiful, everything Loch Ness is, but smaller and far more unspoilt by tourists and the thunder of traffic.
Eventually we rejoined the A836 and turned left to effectively traverse the north of Scotland. The sea came into view and I for the first time the magnitude of what we are about to achieve began to dawn on me. As we descended into seaside village of Bettyhill and saw the road climb up the cliff the other side we could have been back in Cornwall two weeks ago to the day. A huge stretch of golden beach with waves crashing down, a small café and hotel served to further strengthen the uncanny likeness, hard to comprehend that Cornwall was some 850 miles below us as the crow flies!
Speaking of miles was passed the 1000 mark today and, all told, the journey should clock in at around 1060. This is all the more remarkable when I consider that my general fitness seems to have improved as we have got into week two and I seem to have got through completely unscathed by fatigue to knees, shoulders etc and other such cycling related aliments (arse issues aside of course).
So as I write this on the bed at our guesthouse in Malvich, I contemplate completing this amazing challenge tomorrow. I’m not actually sure it will sink in for a while just what we have achieved and it might actually take a day or so to adjust to not having to cycle to a specific destination. I am proud of myself though, very proud, because right up until this moment I’ve never really dared to allow myself to believe that we will achieve this challenge.
PS if you are following this Blog and haven’t already, please pay a visit to my Just Giving page www.justgiving.com/Giles-Bowes – amazingly I have bust the target of £1100, but perhaps we might make £1500?
Total miles 58.17; total ascent 2615 feet; average speed 11.0mph; max speed 36.6mph; total time in saddle 5 hours 3 minutes.
What a difference a day makes.
After a really good night’s sleep, we breakfasted, stocked up at the local Spar and set off around 9.30. The forecast was for a good morning but rain mid afternoon and this was 100% accurate. Essentially it’s about 100 miles from Lairg to JoG, and we decided to do nearly 60 today with a small final run tomorrow, when Larri is also due to arrive and hopefully cheer usover the finish line!
The morning/early afternoon’s riding was probably the best we’ve done on the trip. We took the A836 north from Lairg, which, within 4 miles becomes the trademark Scottish single lane with passing places. You know that when this happens the surrounding countryside will be wild and generally everything will feel remote and this was exactly the case today. Although there was no sun, the clouds were high in the sky and visibility excellent. There was also no wind whatsoever so conditions were perfect for us.
The A836 makes a gradual ascent to around 800 feet from a start in Lairg of around 100 feet, so it’s steady climbing for the first hour or so. The scenery was spectacular, we passed through peat bogs, logging areas, woodland, it was bleak but somehow comforting to see and experience so much of the great outdoors untouched by man. The odd car passed by but by and large we felt splendidly isolated and marveled at the wonderful vistas surrounding us.
When we did enter the infrequent areas of population I felt like a cowboy riding into town after a successful bounty hunt. Great stuff!
At Altnaharra we took the B873 and had the most fabulous, largely downhill run. - the best for me of the trip so far. From 800 feet we gradually descended over a distance of nearly 25miles and averaged just short of 15mph. The road surface was perfect and the whole experience splendidly remote. I’d recommend this piece of road to anyone with a bike.
We passed through tiny Hamlets, one in particular Crask, consisted of a farmhouse, a small bungalow and an Inn. Nothing more. Sheep and their lambs grazed at the roadside and Loch Naver was beautiful, everything Loch Ness is, but smaller and far more unspoilt by tourists and the thunder of traffic.
Eventually we rejoined the A836 and turned left to effectively traverse the north of Scotland. The sea came into view and I for the first time the magnitude of what we are about to achieve began to dawn on me. As we descended into seaside village of Bettyhill and saw the road climb up the cliff the other side we could have been back in Cornwall two weeks ago to the day. A huge stretch of golden beach with waves crashing down, a small café and hotel served to further strengthen the uncanny likeness, hard to comprehend that Cornwall was some 850 miles below us as the crow flies!
Speaking of miles was passed the 1000 mark today and, all told, the journey should clock in at around 1060. This is all the more remarkable when I consider that my general fitness seems to have improved as we have got into week two and I seem to have got through completely unscathed by fatigue to knees, shoulders etc and other such cycling related aliments (arse issues aside of course).
So as I write this on the bed at our guesthouse in Malvich, I contemplate completing this amazing challenge tomorrow. I’m not actually sure it will sink in for a while just what we have achieved and it might actually take a day or so to adjust to not having to cycle to a specific destination. I am proud of myself though, very proud, because right up until this moment I’ve never really dared to allow myself to believe that we will achieve this challenge.
PS if you are following this Blog and haven’t already, please pay a visit to my Just Giving page www.justgiving.com/Giles-Bowes – amazingly I have bust the target of £1100, but perhaps we might make £1500?
Friday 27 May 2011
Day 14 - Misery Personified
Inverness – Lairg
Total miles 63.86; toal ascent 2634 feet; average speed 9.3mph; max speed 24.3mph; total time in saddle 6 hours 52 minutes.
Today was a miserable day.
When we awoke at around 7.45 it was grey and drizzling. In fact from the moment we set off from the guesthouse to about 15 minutes before we arrived in Lairg is rained, in varying degrees and heaviness.
Everything seemed to take longer than ever. Stocking up in M&S Inverness we met queues. Finding the NCN route 1 out of the city and across the Kussock Bridge to a while and it was almost inconceivable that by 1pm we had barely covered 20 miles.
It’s quite funny really, weather wise it wasn’t anywhere near as foul or dramatic as Monday, but somehow it was more debilitating, more energy and spirit sapping.
I wore the waterproof trousers Anne from the Fort William guesthouse lent me . They kept the rain out for sure and for that I was grateful, but they have thick seams that run right across my knees and peddling constantly rubs against my kneecaps. In the end, with about 10 miles to go, I took them off as I couldn’t bear the uncomfortableness any longer.
We ate lunch sheltering under trees somewhere on a stretch of road that we both agreed was the most trying of the entire trip. It wasn’t particularly hilly, nor was the weather any worse than the rest of the day, I just think that with our ultimate goal now so close, to have to endure a dour, dank characterless section pushed us to the edge of our patience.
My gears keep slipping too. If my chain came off once, it came off 20 times, each time marked by a massive swearing bout from me that must have upset the wildlife no end. I’m not entirely sure what’s causing it - I’m a bit loath to start tinkering too much just in case I do something terminal and jepardise the entire run. Each time I have to put the chain on my hands get oily, I have nothing to wipe them on, not even the water proof trousers which are not mine. My skin is beginning to crack badly now on my right hand, one about 10mm long on my thumb is extremely painful.
The arse cream came back out of the panniers today as well. Whilst we both apply liberally in the morning, it hasn’t needed to be used during the day for the last few days, but today we both needed it.
It’s funny though; literally as we entered Lairg at around 6.15 the sky lifted just briefly and the sun peeked through for only a matter of seconds. It’s amazing what this does for the spirit.
The Guesthouse is unusual. Win, our host, carried our panniers in, made us tea along with buns cut in half and smothered with chocolate spread – all without us even asking. Nowhere to date has this ever happened.
The remoteness and isolation of this part of the world began to hit home today. It feels different, our only company fields upon fields of sheep and small lambs running away from the bikes and cows staring ominously at us. It’s comforting in a way to know that this small island in which we live still has such vast sways of peaceful, unspoiled countryside, remote and yet accessible to those that chose to find.
And so tomorrow is our penultimate day. A leisurely 58 odd miles north up to the top of Scotland, then a right turn and stopping overnight at Malvich, ready for the final 40 odd miles on Saturday. NCN Route 1 runs from Inverness right through to JoG and is very well signposted.
Larri starts her mammoth car trip tomorrow bless her, ready to meet us on Saturday and then transport our bikes and us back to the sweaty reality of our daily drudge. I can’t wait to see her x
Total miles 63.86; toal ascent 2634 feet; average speed 9.3mph; max speed 24.3mph; total time in saddle 6 hours 52 minutes.
Today was a miserable day.
When we awoke at around 7.45 it was grey and drizzling. In fact from the moment we set off from the guesthouse to about 15 minutes before we arrived in Lairg is rained, in varying degrees and heaviness.
Everything seemed to take longer than ever. Stocking up in M&S Inverness we met queues. Finding the NCN route 1 out of the city and across the Kussock Bridge to a while and it was almost inconceivable that by 1pm we had barely covered 20 miles.
It’s quite funny really, weather wise it wasn’t anywhere near as foul or dramatic as Monday, but somehow it was more debilitating, more energy and spirit sapping.
I wore the waterproof trousers Anne from the Fort William guesthouse lent me . They kept the rain out for sure and for that I was grateful, but they have thick seams that run right across my knees and peddling constantly rubs against my kneecaps. In the end, with about 10 miles to go, I took them off as I couldn’t bear the uncomfortableness any longer.
We ate lunch sheltering under trees somewhere on a stretch of road that we both agreed was the most trying of the entire trip. It wasn’t particularly hilly, nor was the weather any worse than the rest of the day, I just think that with our ultimate goal now so close, to have to endure a dour, dank characterless section pushed us to the edge of our patience.
My gears keep slipping too. If my chain came off once, it came off 20 times, each time marked by a massive swearing bout from me that must have upset the wildlife no end. I’m not entirely sure what’s causing it - I’m a bit loath to start tinkering too much just in case I do something terminal and jepardise the entire run. Each time I have to put the chain on my hands get oily, I have nothing to wipe them on, not even the water proof trousers which are not mine. My skin is beginning to crack badly now on my right hand, one about 10mm long on my thumb is extremely painful.
The arse cream came back out of the panniers today as well. Whilst we both apply liberally in the morning, it hasn’t needed to be used during the day for the last few days, but today we both needed it.
It’s funny though; literally as we entered Lairg at around 6.15 the sky lifted just briefly and the sun peeked through for only a matter of seconds. It’s amazing what this does for the spirit.
The Guesthouse is unusual. Win, our host, carried our panniers in, made us tea along with buns cut in half and smothered with chocolate spread – all without us even asking. Nowhere to date has this ever happened.
The remoteness and isolation of this part of the world began to hit home today. It feels different, our only company fields upon fields of sheep and small lambs running away from the bikes and cows staring ominously at us. It’s comforting in a way to know that this small island in which we live still has such vast sways of peaceful, unspoiled countryside, remote and yet accessible to those that chose to find.
And so tomorrow is our penultimate day. A leisurely 58 odd miles north up to the top of Scotland, then a right turn and stopping overnight at Malvich, ready for the final 40 odd miles on Saturday. NCN Route 1 runs from Inverness right through to JoG and is very well signposted.
Larri starts her mammoth car trip tomorrow bless her, ready to meet us on Saturday and then transport our bikes and us back to the sweaty reality of our daily drudge. I can’t wait to see her x
Wednesday 25 May 2011
Day 13
Fort William - Inverness
Total distance: 68.59 miles; total ascent 2552 feet; Ave Speed 10.2mph; Maximum speed 28.2mph; total time in saddle 6 hours 44 minutes.
I didn't sleep at all well. A disturbed night tossing and turning with mad dreams. Not I should add about our biking, but about some friends of mine who both appear to be closely involved with a couple of my favorite rock bands (!)
I was also conscious that my stomach felt distinctly unfit. As you do when half asleep, I began to assume the worst - that I had a fit of uncontrollable food poisoning and the challenge would be over. But I eventually managed to grab a tenuous hold of reality and recognise that after a substantial chinese meal, three pints of lager and a healthy slug of pure malt, perhaps it was purely a matter of over indulgence the previous evening that accounted for my rather tender state.
Breakfast was both wonderful and a struggle. Our delightful proprietor Anne, had not only washed and dried all our clothes (both biking and casual), but presented us with a table of fresh fruit and yoghurts, something I have yearned for since leaving home nearly two weeks ago. However the struggle was served to us after completion of the fruit, in the form of toasted bagel topped with cream cheese, smoked salmon and an egg, poached to perfection. I remember we had both ordered this 'specialty' when we had arrived and it seemed like a tremendous way to start the day, however, with a delicate tummy, such indulgence was a little tricky to eat with gusto!
Anne is a keen cyclist herself, having completed JoGLE last year (what we are doing but the other way round if that makes sense). She asked if she could join us for a few miles and we readily agreed.
After a trip to Tesco Metro for the usual stock up explosion of carbs and crap, I also made a quick call to Blacks to purchase a thermal base layer as the cold has been getting to me quite badly over the past couple of days.
All this diversion meant that we didn't really get going until 10am, but it was great to have Anne setting an early expansive road pace as she took the lead and navigated us towards the path that runs along side the River Lochy for the first 10 miles of our planned day's riding.
As with Rob over Exmoor, it was great to have a companion rider and Anne was full of great information and anecdotes. We eventually said our farewells at Gairlochy, just before the river path changed complexion into a full blown forest track complete with sharp flints and rubble to fill the many potholes. Much more suited to Mountain Bikes really, nevertheless we persevered as the route swooped upwards and downwards as it tracked the banks of Loch Lochy for a good 12 or so miles. So far our pace was barely 8mph.
At the end of this section the track met with the dreaded A82. Russ and I had debated long and hard whether to use this route effectively all the way to Inverness, or to switch off right at the head of Loch Ness and take the B862, which would have involved an initial 800 feet or so climb.
We we got to the A82 it was totally deserted and Russ said something to the effect of "it's a no-brainer, I thought it was supposed to be busy, e'll take this rather than the big climb"...the die was cast.
We made Fort Augustus and stopped for lunch and then commenced the 30 odd miles push to Inverness using the A82.
Russ was forced into the verge twice and I had two very narrow misses with a coach and truck. The road is thick with tourist traffic, particularly coaches, continental ones at that. Russ and I both concluded that these bastards are potential killing machines, driven by foreigners who, not only confused by the need to drive on the left, have never seen a cyclist before and are probably smoking a Gauloise whilst using a tannoy system to announce that Nessie has bobbed her head up above the water-level, oh and by the way Urquart Castle is coming up on the right....
In seriousness the riding was tough. The ascents and decents themselves as the road ducks and dives along the great Loch's shoreline are not particularly taxing, but one has to have a much greater mental concentration to ensure avoidance of coming-together with traffic. Ensuring the bikes are stable means not even re-adjusting grip on the handle bars or making unforced gear changes all things which are taken for granted along a peaceful cycle path.
To make matters worse, the traffic is not constant. It comes in waves. There can be a lull of 30 seconds perhaps even a minute, when all you can hear is the gentle whistling of the wind (very light/non existent today), or some songbird overhead, or just the bike's tyres treading the ever changing road surfaces. Then you become aware of the noise of approaching traffic, the worst type being the truck or bus. The low hum becoming louder and louder until it's more of a announcement of intent, finally becoming a roar that will either pass by without braking, or change in tone as the brakes are applied, hissing and squealing right behind you. You know at this point the driver is cursing under his breath as he has lost revs and starts looking for the smallest of gap to get by, which is usually when things can get dramatic...
We stopped at the Loch midway point, Drumnadrochit, for tea and to try and regain our composures. In fairness, after this point the tourists don't seem interested in going much further onwards towards Inverness so the road wasn't as bad. Nevertheless we didn't really relax until about 4 miles before Inverness when we spotted the canal path and entered the city to complete our day in much the same way as it had started and with our heart rates down!
Inverness itself is a very elegant town, full of interesting architecture and shrouded by mountains and hills in the distance. It has a warm, friendly feel to it. The locals are hardy types, the climate (and for some no doubt booze) etched into their wind swept and weather beaten faces. We ate at a very agreeable Italian restaurant and toasted our health and success at having safely completed day 13..
Total distance: 68.59 miles; total ascent 2552 feet; Ave Speed 10.2mph; Maximum speed 28.2mph; total time in saddle 6 hours 44 minutes.
I didn't sleep at all well. A disturbed night tossing and turning with mad dreams. Not I should add about our biking, but about some friends of mine who both appear to be closely involved with a couple of my favorite rock bands (!)
I was also conscious that my stomach felt distinctly unfit. As you do when half asleep, I began to assume the worst - that I had a fit of uncontrollable food poisoning and the challenge would be over. But I eventually managed to grab a tenuous hold of reality and recognise that after a substantial chinese meal, three pints of lager and a healthy slug of pure malt, perhaps it was purely a matter of over indulgence the previous evening that accounted for my rather tender state.
Breakfast was both wonderful and a struggle. Our delightful proprietor Anne, had not only washed and dried all our clothes (both biking and casual), but presented us with a table of fresh fruit and yoghurts, something I have yearned for since leaving home nearly two weeks ago. However the struggle was served to us after completion of the fruit, in the form of toasted bagel topped with cream cheese, smoked salmon and an egg, poached to perfection. I remember we had both ordered this 'specialty' when we had arrived and it seemed like a tremendous way to start the day, however, with a delicate tummy, such indulgence was a little tricky to eat with gusto!
Anne is a keen cyclist herself, having completed JoGLE last year (what we are doing but the other way round if that makes sense). She asked if she could join us for a few miles and we readily agreed.
After a trip to Tesco Metro for the usual stock up explosion of carbs and crap, I also made a quick call to Blacks to purchase a thermal base layer as the cold has been getting to me quite badly over the past couple of days.
All this diversion meant that we didn't really get going until 10am, but it was great to have Anne setting an early expansive road pace as she took the lead and navigated us towards the path that runs along side the River Lochy for the first 10 miles of our planned day's riding.
As with Rob over Exmoor, it was great to have a companion rider and Anne was full of great information and anecdotes. We eventually said our farewells at Gairlochy, just before the river path changed complexion into a full blown forest track complete with sharp flints and rubble to fill the many potholes. Much more suited to Mountain Bikes really, nevertheless we persevered as the route swooped upwards and downwards as it tracked the banks of Loch Lochy for a good 12 or so miles. So far our pace was barely 8mph.
At the end of this section the track met with the dreaded A82. Russ and I had debated long and hard whether to use this route effectively all the way to Inverness, or to switch off right at the head of Loch Ness and take the B862, which would have involved an initial 800 feet or so climb.
We we got to the A82 it was totally deserted and Russ said something to the effect of "it's a no-brainer, I thought it was supposed to be busy, e'll take this rather than the big climb"...the die was cast.
We made Fort Augustus and stopped for lunch and then commenced the 30 odd miles push to Inverness using the A82.
Russ was forced into the verge twice and I had two very narrow misses with a coach and truck. The road is thick with tourist traffic, particularly coaches, continental ones at that. Russ and I both concluded that these bastards are potential killing machines, driven by foreigners who, not only confused by the need to drive on the left, have never seen a cyclist before and are probably smoking a Gauloise whilst using a tannoy system to announce that Nessie has bobbed her head up above the water-level, oh and by the way Urquart Castle is coming up on the right....
In seriousness the riding was tough. The ascents and decents themselves as the road ducks and dives along the great Loch's shoreline are not particularly taxing, but one has to have a much greater mental concentration to ensure avoidance of coming-together with traffic. Ensuring the bikes are stable means not even re-adjusting grip on the handle bars or making unforced gear changes all things which are taken for granted along a peaceful cycle path.
To make matters worse, the traffic is not constant. It comes in waves. There can be a lull of 30 seconds perhaps even a minute, when all you can hear is the gentle whistling of the wind (very light/non existent today), or some songbird overhead, or just the bike's tyres treading the ever changing road surfaces. Then you become aware of the noise of approaching traffic, the worst type being the truck or bus. The low hum becoming louder and louder until it's more of a announcement of intent, finally becoming a roar that will either pass by without braking, or change in tone as the brakes are applied, hissing and squealing right behind you. You know at this point the driver is cursing under his breath as he has lost revs and starts looking for the smallest of gap to get by, which is usually when things can get dramatic...
We stopped at the Loch midway point, Drumnadrochit, for tea and to try and regain our composures. In fairness, after this point the tourists don't seem interested in going much further onwards towards Inverness so the road wasn't as bad. Nevertheless we didn't really relax until about 4 miles before Inverness when we spotted the canal path and entered the city to complete our day in much the same way as it had started and with our heart rates down!
Inverness itself is a very elegant town, full of interesting architecture and shrouded by mountains and hills in the distance. It has a warm, friendly feel to it. The locals are hardy types, the climate (and for some no doubt booze) etched into their wind swept and weather beaten faces. We ate at a very agreeable Italian restaurant and toasted our health and success at having safely completed day 13..
Tuesday 24 May 2011
Day 12 - Back to (relative) Normality
Dalmally - Fort William (Tuesday)
Total distance: 58.77 miles; total ascent 2129 feet; Ave Speed 10.5mph; Maximum speed 29.1mph; total time in saddle 5 hours 36 minutes.
It took me some while to drift off to sleep last night. I think the day's events were spinning too glaringly in my head to allow rest to come quickly. The electricity did come on though eventually, so at least we could charge up our various electronic gadgetry.
WE awoke at around 8am and the sky was blue. At 8.15 it was grey and raining - the day essentially went on to mirror this pattern.
After a mediocre breakfast, we oiled our chains and set off at around 9.30, following the A85 to Connel our first milestone around 19 miles away.
It seemed to take forever. In fact by the time we hit Connel it was past midday and neither of us could quite account for why this fairly routine section had taken so long. The road wasn't particularly busy, although the wind was against us, but nowhere near as agressive as yesterday. I conclude that our overall drive and spirit was somewhat depleted after the tumultuous events of the day before.
Eventually after numerous, food, toilet, waterproof on-off breaks (Russ), we made Connel and diverted right over the extremely windy bridge crossing the Falls of Lora onto the A828.
The A828 is shadowed by the best Sustrains cycle track running for most of it's length. Freshly constructed and some parts stillto be completed, it is a credit to the Scottish authorities. A wonderfully smooth tarmac surface, well signposted, easy and beautiful to navigate, it skirted alongside Loch Creran offering surely the best views from any cycle track the UK has to offer. The only problem was several fallen trees, one of which necessitated lifted the bikes over broken branches and substantial tree truck remains. In fact all of our journey today bore the scars of yesterday's storms. Little wonder it had made national news.
After abut 20 miles to A828 eventually gives way to the infamous A82 and the last 15 odd miles to Fort William. There is no other way to make this trip, more's the pity. The A82 is a dreadful and sometimes terrifying experience. I watched as Russ was twice nearly taken out by aggressive and impatient HGVs, fighting to rule a narrow single carriageway road. This was not fun and there was sadly no cycle path alternative for us to retreat to.
Ally had found us a B&B in Fort William whose proprietor was a keen cyclist and happy to wash and dry our stinking 12 day old morass of stinking kecks, lycra, socks and t-shirts. Our room has the most stunning views across Loch Linnhe and with a complimentary malt to boot, it has helped ease the pain of a difficult day, mentally.
Our spirits are now lifted though I feel, following a decent Chinese in town and a few beers. The end is in sight and baring disasters, we should meet up with Larri in John O'Groats on Saturday afternoon.
I have been lent waterproof trousers by the Guesthouse owner and we'll pop into toen first thing tomorrow to pick up some thermals - it's getting colder by the day as we venture further north.
Rest now and a word about my dearest wife. It's easier for me to endure the passing of 16 odd days without seeing Larri as I'm involved in drama and seeing/doing something different each day. For her the routine is as usual but without me. I know I would find this hugely difficult if the boot was on the other foot. I can only say a massive, massive thank you to her for putting up with my stupid whims and ludicrously spontaneous nature which calls me to doing such daft things. Needless to say none of my adventures would be worthwhile without knowing I had her companionship, strength and love in bucket loads.
I can't wait to see you my love xx
Total distance: 58.77 miles; total ascent 2129 feet; Ave Speed 10.5mph; Maximum speed 29.1mph; total time in saddle 5 hours 36 minutes.
It took me some while to drift off to sleep last night. I think the day's events were spinning too glaringly in my head to allow rest to come quickly. The electricity did come on though eventually, so at least we could charge up our various electronic gadgetry.
WE awoke at around 8am and the sky was blue. At 8.15 it was grey and raining - the day essentially went on to mirror this pattern.
After a mediocre breakfast, we oiled our chains and set off at around 9.30, following the A85 to Connel our first milestone around 19 miles away.
It seemed to take forever. In fact by the time we hit Connel it was past midday and neither of us could quite account for why this fairly routine section had taken so long. The road wasn't particularly busy, although the wind was against us, but nowhere near as agressive as yesterday. I conclude that our overall drive and spirit was somewhat depleted after the tumultuous events of the day before.
Eventually after numerous, food, toilet, waterproof on-off breaks (Russ), we made Connel and diverted right over the extremely windy bridge crossing the Falls of Lora onto the A828.
The A828 is shadowed by the best Sustrains cycle track running for most of it's length. Freshly constructed and some parts stillto be completed, it is a credit to the Scottish authorities. A wonderfully smooth tarmac surface, well signposted, easy and beautiful to navigate, it skirted alongside Loch Creran offering surely the best views from any cycle track the UK has to offer. The only problem was several fallen trees, one of which necessitated lifted the bikes over broken branches and substantial tree truck remains. In fact all of our journey today bore the scars of yesterday's storms. Little wonder it had made national news.
After abut 20 miles to A828 eventually gives way to the infamous A82 and the last 15 odd miles to Fort William. There is no other way to make this trip, more's the pity. The A82 is a dreadful and sometimes terrifying experience. I watched as Russ was twice nearly taken out by aggressive and impatient HGVs, fighting to rule a narrow single carriageway road. This was not fun and there was sadly no cycle path alternative for us to retreat to.
Ally had found us a B&B in Fort William whose proprietor was a keen cyclist and happy to wash and dry our stinking 12 day old morass of stinking kecks, lycra, socks and t-shirts. Our room has the most stunning views across Loch Linnhe and with a complimentary malt to boot, it has helped ease the pain of a difficult day, mentally.
Our spirits are now lifted though I feel, following a decent Chinese in town and a few beers. The end is in sight and baring disasters, we should meet up with Larri in John O'Groats on Saturday afternoon.
I have been lent waterproof trousers by the Guesthouse owner and we'll pop into toen first thing tomorrow to pick up some thermals - it's getting colder by the day as we venture further north.
Rest now and a word about my dearest wife. It's easier for me to endure the passing of 16 odd days without seeing Larri as I'm involved in drama and seeing/doing something different each day. For her the routine is as usual but without me. I know I would find this hugely difficult if the boot was on the other foot. I can only say a massive, massive thank you to her for putting up with my stupid whims and ludicrously spontaneous nature which calls me to doing such daft things. Needless to say none of my adventures would be worthwhile without knowing I had her companionship, strength and love in bucket loads.
I can't wait to see you my love xx
Day 11 - The Most Amazing Day Ever?
Largs - Dalmally (Monday)
Total distance: 67.61 miles; total ascent 4744 feet; Ave Speed 11.2mph; Maximum speed 32.68.mph; total time in saddle 6 hours 3 minutes.
As anticipated, when we peered through our bedroom window this morning the weather was as bad as we could have imagined. Driving wind and heavy rain, all dressed in a sky painted by Baellizibub himself.
Somehow I was up first, Russ looked particularly tired after yesterday’s exploits, but we both had breakfast, which was less than ordinary and I remarked that I have no idea why we felt obliged to cram down so much food first thing in the morning, particularly food of such poor quality.
Anyhow, after the usual pannier packing ritual (this seems to get more taxing every day) we made our way to the bikes that had been left padlocked to some ladders behind the ‘best little whore house in Largs’ (see previous entry).
Here our day’s adventures started to unfold. Whilst securing the bikes last night, I had idly observed to Russ that on Brooks Saddle’s Facebook page an entry had been made about how saddles themselves were being stolen from chained up bikes. This prompted Russ to remove his and I did the same (even worse than me, he seems to trust no one and suspect everyone, particularly in dubious areas, which is pretty much anywhere further than outside his front door). As a result of all this, we therefore had to re-secure and fix our saddles back on. When Russ said “I’ve got a major problem” I sort of knew immediately what had happened. He had over tightened the bolt that secures his seat post to the frame and it had snapped in two. This was indeed serious.
For some unknown reason, I was particularly practical and positive about all this (Larri would be astounded, given my usual glass half empty style, it must be all this fresh air) and suggested that there had to be a bike shop in Largs. Thanks to the iPhone, my suggestion was confirmed to be correct and 30 minutes later we had been sorted. I also purchased some very neat l.e.d. front and rear lights.
We set off at around 9.45am for the 15 odd miles to Gourock to catch the Western Ferry to Dunoon (we had been told this line sails in any weather and for very reasonable rates, unlike the thieving feckers Calmac further up the quayside).
It was on leaving Largs for this 15 mile journey that it soon became apparent today was going to be a bit different. Upon joining the A78 the wind was not only extremely strong, but was right behind us. We polished off those 15miles in just over an hour 10 at an average pace of 14.5mph, quicker than I have ever achieved in training and certainly quicker than anything we had done before on this trip. The rush of feeling like you have a second person propelling you is really quite strange at first, big cog engaged, one can gently pedal with no effort and maintain 15 – 20 mph with ease. The novelty of this was enough to detract from the fact if was raining hard, and with effective overshoes and my top notch waterproof coat all was exceeding well with the world.
We arrived at the quayside just in time to catch the ferry so there was no wait and before we knew it we were in Dunoon stocking up on sandwiches and general provisions for the next 50 odd miles. The weather had improved greatly for the crossing and we were treated to some rare sunshine that hung around for the first couple of miles out of Dunoon. As we continued on the A815 though the weather really began to change dramatically for the worse. The rain set in as heavy as I have ever known and the winds became unbelievably fierce.
We stopped at a remote filling station and enjoyed hot coffee inside whilst watching the rubbish bin being tossed around outside like an empty crisp packet.
We pressed on, but still with the wind behind us and despite the atrocious conditions the miles were being eaten very quickly and much faster than we had become accustomed to during the preceding 10 days. When the A815 met the edge of Loch Fine is became apparent that the weather was extremely serious indeed, the usually tranquil Loch has waves of 7 or 8 feet in height. The wind which at this point was still behind us, meant we went quicker and quicker until we were having the brake to slow down the force that was coming from behind us. Freewheeling along flat and gentle inclines at speeds in excess of 30mph thanks to a wind behind you is a surreal experience and one I’m not sure I’ll ever experience again.
Excitement, extreme adrenaline rush and abject fear all rolled into one as we came across more and more fallen trees, phone and power lines that had been blown like match sticks across the road. The road is tree lined for most of the way, and whilst trying to manage speed, steer to avoid potholes etc and be wary of potential trees coming down, made for multi-tasking like I had never endured before. All of this along with huge lorries and the usual issues of traffic on a truck road meant I was laughing out loud at some points, drinking in the whole ludicrous experience because I knew it was one of those life time moments that would probably never be repeated.
Things were to get worse though.
Anyone that knows Loch Fyne will know that to get to the ‘staging post’ of Inveraray, you have to travel around the Loch. This means effectively travelling north west, then making a ‘u’ turn and travelling south east until you hit the small town.
As we made the sweeping ‘u’ turn at the end of the Loch, there was a brief moment of calm, we saw flocks of birds gently swooping through the low cloud and the trees seemed calm. However nothing could prepare us for the end of the curve as we began the 10 mile South East section to Inveraray. The wind hit us like an army of battering rams. My breath and front wheel were taken away from me and for a moment, I thought I would be swept clean off the road – a main road with cars, trucks and other such potential killing machines. Struggling to keep the bike straight in the face of 70mph gusts took all my physical and mental strength. We paused at the Loch Fyne Seafood restaurant car park and watched as parked cars rocked violently as the winds attempted to tear them away (I’m NOT kidding).
Russ told me that we were stuffed and we had little choice but to carry on to Inveraray. He told me to think of it as some sort of mad computer cycle simulation game. So we continued. I have no idea how we made it, but we did. I was about 3 minutes ahead of Russ and as I crossed the hump bridge 1/4mile from the town I could see blue lights flashing on the twon’s outskirts and watched amazed as waves from the Loch crashed over the road ahead. As I rode into the town, I realised that the police had closed the road we had just endured and drivers wondering what to do looked at me in total amazement as I rode into town like some swaggering cowboy, back from a successful bounty mission.
I pulled up and took what shelter I could in the bus stop as I waited for Russ. The police were speaking the each driver in turn in the queue of traffic and telling them basically they had no choice but the wait - the road we had just ridden was too dangerous for cars and trucks (!!!)
Oh how I wished our original plan of staying at The George Hotel in Inverary had worked out (the hotel was fully booked when we tried to get a room).
As Russ arrived and joined me I realised I was beginning to get extremely cold (remember I only have cycling shorts, my bare legs have been sunburnt, wind shredded and peppered with horizontal rain so far on this trip). Shivering uncontrollably as I rammed a roll and Boost bar down my throat, Russ said we might as well get stuck in and make Dalmally, some 16 miles ahead where our accommodation was booked.
The Police confirmed the road to Dalmally was road was clear and open (but didn’t recommend we tried it given the conditions) but somewhat reluctantly I decided not to argue with Russ but to dig in. For the first couple of miles I had serious doubts and almost turned around. My neck hurt badly, I was tense with pain and I could barely summon the strength the change gears. Stopping at Inveraray had drained my body heat and I knew my only chance of getting through this was to cycle harder and try to regain some body heat. Eventually I managed to settle and get some warmth going as my heart rate quickened.
Someone must have been looking over us, because this piece of road – 16 miles and an ascent of 700 feet, was completed in not much more than an hour. Not a superhuman effort but purely driven by the monumental winds which, by the grace of God, were behind us the whole way.
We arrived at Dalmally to find that the electricity was out throughout the whole village, mobile phone masts were down and as I type this in bed by candle light at 10 in the evening, things are still not returned to normal. There was just enough water for one bath and although I followed him, Russ can be delighted in the knowledge that his dirty water probably just about got my body temperature back to where it belonged.
There’s much I haven’t said, much it is impossible to convey through the medium of this Blog and it is no cliché to say that unless you were there, you cannot possibly understand what we had to endure today. It was a monumental effort on both our parts and took physical and mental strength that I certainly had no idea I possessed.
Oh and on top of it all, one of us ruptured a haemorrhoid.
Goodnight all.
Total distance: 67.61 miles; total ascent 4744 feet; Ave Speed 11.2mph; Maximum speed 32.68.mph; total time in saddle 6 hours 3 minutes.
As anticipated, when we peered through our bedroom window this morning the weather was as bad as we could have imagined. Driving wind and heavy rain, all dressed in a sky painted by Baellizibub himself.
Somehow I was up first, Russ looked particularly tired after yesterday’s exploits, but we both had breakfast, which was less than ordinary and I remarked that I have no idea why we felt obliged to cram down so much food first thing in the morning, particularly food of such poor quality.
Anyhow, after the usual pannier packing ritual (this seems to get more taxing every day) we made our way to the bikes that had been left padlocked to some ladders behind the ‘best little whore house in Largs’ (see previous entry).
Here our day’s adventures started to unfold. Whilst securing the bikes last night, I had idly observed to Russ that on Brooks Saddle’s Facebook page an entry had been made about how saddles themselves were being stolen from chained up bikes. This prompted Russ to remove his and I did the same (even worse than me, he seems to trust no one and suspect everyone, particularly in dubious areas, which is pretty much anywhere further than outside his front door). As a result of all this, we therefore had to re-secure and fix our saddles back on. When Russ said “I’ve got a major problem” I sort of knew immediately what had happened. He had over tightened the bolt that secures his seat post to the frame and it had snapped in two. This was indeed serious.
For some unknown reason, I was particularly practical and positive about all this (Larri would be astounded, given my usual glass half empty style, it must be all this fresh air) and suggested that there had to be a bike shop in Largs. Thanks to the iPhone, my suggestion was confirmed to be correct and 30 minutes later we had been sorted. I also purchased some very neat l.e.d. front and rear lights.
We set off at around 9.45am for the 15 odd miles to Gourock to catch the Western Ferry to Dunoon (we had been told this line sails in any weather and for very reasonable rates, unlike the thieving feckers Calmac further up the quayside).
It was on leaving Largs for this 15 mile journey that it soon became apparent today was going to be a bit different. Upon joining the A78 the wind was not only extremely strong, but was right behind us. We polished off those 15miles in just over an hour 10 at an average pace of 14.5mph, quicker than I have ever achieved in training and certainly quicker than anything we had done before on this trip. The rush of feeling like you have a second person propelling you is really quite strange at first, big cog engaged, one can gently pedal with no effort and maintain 15 – 20 mph with ease. The novelty of this was enough to detract from the fact if was raining hard, and with effective overshoes and my top notch waterproof coat all was exceeding well with the world.
We arrived at the quayside just in time to catch the ferry so there was no wait and before we knew it we were in Dunoon stocking up on sandwiches and general provisions for the next 50 odd miles. The weather had improved greatly for the crossing and we were treated to some rare sunshine that hung around for the first couple of miles out of Dunoon. As we continued on the A815 though the weather really began to change dramatically for the worse. The rain set in as heavy as I have ever known and the winds became unbelievably fierce.
We stopped at a remote filling station and enjoyed hot coffee inside whilst watching the rubbish bin being tossed around outside like an empty crisp packet.
We pressed on, but still with the wind behind us and despite the atrocious conditions the miles were being eaten very quickly and much faster than we had become accustomed to during the preceding 10 days. When the A815 met the edge of Loch Fine is became apparent that the weather was extremely serious indeed, the usually tranquil Loch has waves of 7 or 8 feet in height. The wind which at this point was still behind us, meant we went quicker and quicker until we were having the brake to slow down the force that was coming from behind us. Freewheeling along flat and gentle inclines at speeds in excess of 30mph thanks to a wind behind you is a surreal experience and one I’m not sure I’ll ever experience again.
Excitement, extreme adrenaline rush and abject fear all rolled into one as we came across more and more fallen trees, phone and power lines that had been blown like match sticks across the road. The road is tree lined for most of the way, and whilst trying to manage speed, steer to avoid potholes etc and be wary of potential trees coming down, made for multi-tasking like I had never endured before. All of this along with huge lorries and the usual issues of traffic on a truck road meant I was laughing out loud at some points, drinking in the whole ludicrous experience because I knew it was one of those life time moments that would probably never be repeated.
Things were to get worse though.
Anyone that knows Loch Fyne will know that to get to the ‘staging post’ of Inveraray, you have to travel around the Loch. This means effectively travelling north west, then making a ‘u’ turn and travelling south east until you hit the small town.
As we made the sweeping ‘u’ turn at the end of the Loch, there was a brief moment of calm, we saw flocks of birds gently swooping through the low cloud and the trees seemed calm. However nothing could prepare us for the end of the curve as we began the 10 mile South East section to Inveraray. The wind hit us like an army of battering rams. My breath and front wheel were taken away from me and for a moment, I thought I would be swept clean off the road – a main road with cars, trucks and other such potential killing machines. Struggling to keep the bike straight in the face of 70mph gusts took all my physical and mental strength. We paused at the Loch Fyne Seafood restaurant car park and watched as parked cars rocked violently as the winds attempted to tear them away (I’m NOT kidding).
Russ told me that we were stuffed and we had little choice but to carry on to Inveraray. He told me to think of it as some sort of mad computer cycle simulation game. So we continued. I have no idea how we made it, but we did. I was about 3 minutes ahead of Russ and as I crossed the hump bridge 1/4mile from the town I could see blue lights flashing on the twon’s outskirts and watched amazed as waves from the Loch crashed over the road ahead. As I rode into the town, I realised that the police had closed the road we had just endured and drivers wondering what to do looked at me in total amazement as I rode into town like some swaggering cowboy, back from a successful bounty mission.
I pulled up and took what shelter I could in the bus stop as I waited for Russ. The police were speaking the each driver in turn in the queue of traffic and telling them basically they had no choice but the wait - the road we had just ridden was too dangerous for cars and trucks (!!!)
Oh how I wished our original plan of staying at The George Hotel in Inverary had worked out (the hotel was fully booked when we tried to get a room).
As Russ arrived and joined me I realised I was beginning to get extremely cold (remember I only have cycling shorts, my bare legs have been sunburnt, wind shredded and peppered with horizontal rain so far on this trip). Shivering uncontrollably as I rammed a roll and Boost bar down my throat, Russ said we might as well get stuck in and make Dalmally, some 16 miles ahead where our accommodation was booked.
The Police confirmed the road to Dalmally was road was clear and open (but didn’t recommend we tried it given the conditions) but somewhat reluctantly I decided not to argue with Russ but to dig in. For the first couple of miles I had serious doubts and almost turned around. My neck hurt badly, I was tense with pain and I could barely summon the strength the change gears. Stopping at Inveraray had drained my body heat and I knew my only chance of getting through this was to cycle harder and try to regain some body heat. Eventually I managed to settle and get some warmth going as my heart rate quickened.
Someone must have been looking over us, because this piece of road – 16 miles and an ascent of 700 feet, was completed in not much more than an hour. Not a superhuman effort but purely driven by the monumental winds which, by the grace of God, were behind us the whole way.
We arrived at Dalmally to find that the electricity was out throughout the whole village, mobile phone masts were down and as I type this in bed by candle light at 10 in the evening, things are still not returned to normal. There was just enough water for one bath and although I followed him, Russ can be delighted in the knowledge that his dirty water probably just about got my body temperature back to where it belonged.
There’s much I haven’t said, much it is impossible to convey through the medium of this Blog and it is no cliché to say that unless you were there, you cannot possibly understand what we had to endure today. It was a monumental effort on both our parts and took physical and mental strength that I certainly had no idea I possessed.
Oh and on top of it all, one of us ruptured a haemorrhoid.
Goodnight all.
Sunday 22 May 2011
Day 10 - The Weather Closes In
Thornhill to Largs
Total distance: 74.53 miles; total ascent 2785 feet; Ave Speed 9.4mph; Maximum speed 32.8.mph; total time in saddle 7 hours 58 minutes.
As agreed with our hyper-efficient German guest house proprietors, we rose at 7.15 for breakfast at 7.30 sharp. I need to say that the breakfast we were served was nothing sort of exquisite. Pure white crockery, set to precision placing, everything, including cereal, served to us and the most delightful and wonderfully cooked Scottish breakfast, with excellent haggis, all presented with military proficiency. No greater example of German efficiently can be found anywhere I’ll wager.
We sat at a table by a large bay window, from where we watched the rain lashing down against a dark and foreboding sky. We both sensed today would probably present our biggest challenge to date. We had reviewed the route last night and decided to take the more direct A road approach today and speculated that being a Sunday, the A76 would be quiet.
We left the Guest house around 8.20 and first off paid a visit to the local Co-Op to stock up on rations for the day. Upon hearing of our challenge and the charity we had chosen to be sponsored for, I was given £10 by one of the check out girls.
We set off in heavy rain and started our 35-mile plus navigation of the A78. It was indeed quiet to start with, most Scots enjoying a Sunday lie in no doubt, but as the rain continued, the traffic got heavier and worst of all the wind got stronger and stronger. We both knew today would be a no nonsense, head down kinda run and indeed this is how it turned out. We just needed to crunch the miles and get on with it. The wind was cruel though. We are both very tired tonight and although ascent wise today was not substantial at all, we had to pedal all day non stop to counteract the driving wind which didn’t relent and chose to face us head on throughout.
Sanguhar, Kirkconnel, Cumnock came and went until eventually after what seemed like hours (it was) we reached Mauchine and veered off left onto kinder, less frighteningly busy roads. By now the weather had changed from completely overcast to sunshine then showers which was more of a relief, although the driving wind continued unabated. I was very glad I had purchased a new waterproof (with hood that fits perfectly under my helmet), along with waterproof over shoes. I’m also pleased to report that the panniers are, so far totally waterproof. Wet gear at the end of the day (let alone a wet laptop) would not have made Giles happy at all.
We finally made the closely linked towns of Troon, Irvine, Stevenson and the rather depressingly named Saltcoats and thanks to well-made and signposted cycle paths, navigated through this potential maze with ease. Finally, and once again the last stretch of the day was the best - a costal run up the A78 following the adjacent cycle path to Largs. The early evening sunshine, intermingled with heavy black clouds made for interesting light and Arran and Bute looked particularly beautiful as we inched our way to the Guest House Ally had arranged for us. We think it’s a knocking shop in disguise, but can’t be certain.
So after 10 days and 730 miles (it’s amazing to think we only have c350 more to go) how am I bearing up? Well my backside is a little better although arse cream has to be applied liberally to the padding of my shorts in the morning with a least one further dressing to keep matters under control. Inevitably cracking skin that I suffer with anyway has attacked the end of my right index finger and is proving painful and difficult to keep under control. My neck gets a little stiff after a few hours without a break, but by and large I’ve surprised myself with how well I’ve coped physically. Mentally, it’s getting harder and harder to separate the days. I had to force myself to think very hard today of exactly where we have stayed and in what accommodation since we started. It’s almost inconceivable that a week ago today we completed a 90+ mile run which included our run over Exmoor. Have we really been going this long?
Russ was too tired to go out and eat tonight, so I volunteered to go and get some stuff in, which included a trip to Tesco Metro and the nearby Kebab house (which I’m regretting already). After we had eaten we began to look ahead and it’s quite exciting now to begin to see the end in site. The weather will be our biggest challenge though I think, with the next two days forecasting very heavy rain and winds that warrant a weather warning. But at least we are now asking Ally to think about booking a few days ahead and it’s looking more and more likely that we will make JoG on Saturday ☺
As the accommodation we wanted in Inverary is fully booked we will push on to Dalmally a further 15 miles or so up the road (we have to make this, there’s nothing in between), which means another 70 odd miles tomorrow and at least 4500 feet in climbing. We have to make good progress as the only restaurant in Dalmally apparently closes at 9pm. Here’s hoping the weather won’t be too unkind.
Off to bed now, Last night I had my usual reoccurring dream about seeing an airplane crash and a more bizarre one in which David Cameron advisors told me he would be taking in own life in order to boost his popularity ratings (!!??!!). Tonight I don’t think I’ll dream, I’m too tired – I might even sleep right through Russ’s snoring..
Total distance: 74.53 miles; total ascent 2785 feet; Ave Speed 9.4mph; Maximum speed 32.8.mph; total time in saddle 7 hours 58 minutes.
As agreed with our hyper-efficient German guest house proprietors, we rose at 7.15 for breakfast at 7.30 sharp. I need to say that the breakfast we were served was nothing sort of exquisite. Pure white crockery, set to precision placing, everything, including cereal, served to us and the most delightful and wonderfully cooked Scottish breakfast, with excellent haggis, all presented with military proficiency. No greater example of German efficiently can be found anywhere I’ll wager.
We sat at a table by a large bay window, from where we watched the rain lashing down against a dark and foreboding sky. We both sensed today would probably present our biggest challenge to date. We had reviewed the route last night and decided to take the more direct A road approach today and speculated that being a Sunday, the A76 would be quiet.
We left the Guest house around 8.20 and first off paid a visit to the local Co-Op to stock up on rations for the day. Upon hearing of our challenge and the charity we had chosen to be sponsored for, I was given £10 by one of the check out girls.
We set off in heavy rain and started our 35-mile plus navigation of the A78. It was indeed quiet to start with, most Scots enjoying a Sunday lie in no doubt, but as the rain continued, the traffic got heavier and worst of all the wind got stronger and stronger. We both knew today would be a no nonsense, head down kinda run and indeed this is how it turned out. We just needed to crunch the miles and get on with it. The wind was cruel though. We are both very tired tonight and although ascent wise today was not substantial at all, we had to pedal all day non stop to counteract the driving wind which didn’t relent and chose to face us head on throughout.
Sanguhar, Kirkconnel, Cumnock came and went until eventually after what seemed like hours (it was) we reached Mauchine and veered off left onto kinder, less frighteningly busy roads. By now the weather had changed from completely overcast to sunshine then showers which was more of a relief, although the driving wind continued unabated. I was very glad I had purchased a new waterproof (with hood that fits perfectly under my helmet), along with waterproof over shoes. I’m also pleased to report that the panniers are, so far totally waterproof. Wet gear at the end of the day (let alone a wet laptop) would not have made Giles happy at all.
We finally made the closely linked towns of Troon, Irvine, Stevenson and the rather depressingly named Saltcoats and thanks to well-made and signposted cycle paths, navigated through this potential maze with ease. Finally, and once again the last stretch of the day was the best - a costal run up the A78 following the adjacent cycle path to Largs. The early evening sunshine, intermingled with heavy black clouds made for interesting light and Arran and Bute looked particularly beautiful as we inched our way to the Guest House Ally had arranged for us. We think it’s a knocking shop in disguise, but can’t be certain.
So after 10 days and 730 miles (it’s amazing to think we only have c350 more to go) how am I bearing up? Well my backside is a little better although arse cream has to be applied liberally to the padding of my shorts in the morning with a least one further dressing to keep matters under control. Inevitably cracking skin that I suffer with anyway has attacked the end of my right index finger and is proving painful and difficult to keep under control. My neck gets a little stiff after a few hours without a break, but by and large I’ve surprised myself with how well I’ve coped physically. Mentally, it’s getting harder and harder to separate the days. I had to force myself to think very hard today of exactly where we have stayed and in what accommodation since we started. It’s almost inconceivable that a week ago today we completed a 90+ mile run which included our run over Exmoor. Have we really been going this long?
Russ was too tired to go out and eat tonight, so I volunteered to go and get some stuff in, which included a trip to Tesco Metro and the nearby Kebab house (which I’m regretting already). After we had eaten we began to look ahead and it’s quite exciting now to begin to see the end in site. The weather will be our biggest challenge though I think, with the next two days forecasting very heavy rain and winds that warrant a weather warning. But at least we are now asking Ally to think about booking a few days ahead and it’s looking more and more likely that we will make JoG on Saturday ☺
As the accommodation we wanted in Inverary is fully booked we will push on to Dalmally a further 15 miles or so up the road (we have to make this, there’s nothing in between), which means another 70 odd miles tomorrow and at least 4500 feet in climbing. We have to make good progress as the only restaurant in Dalmally apparently closes at 9pm. Here’s hoping the weather won’t be too unkind.
Off to bed now, Last night I had my usual reoccurring dream about seeing an airplane crash and a more bizarre one in which David Cameron advisors told me he would be taking in own life in order to boost his popularity ratings (!!??!!). Tonight I don’t think I’ll dream, I’m too tired – I might even sleep right through Russ’s snoring..
Saturday 21 May 2011
Day 9, Nicely Shorter
Total distance: 55.24 miles; total ascent 2215 feet; Ave Speed 10.2mph; Maximum speed 28.mph; total time in saddle 5 hours 26 minutes.
Today has been a day of unexpected r&r thanks to a reassessment of the route over breakfast. Russ couldn’t understand why he’d incorporated a couple of dog-legs into the route, which when removed, lost nothing in pleasure, but more than 16 miles off the days planned 72.
As a result I’m sitting in our room at the Gillbank Guest House in Thornhill at 5pm writing this entry. We are still a full day ahead of schedule, but were able to achieve this will only 56 miles for the day. This was actually pretty good news all round. We both looked and felt decidedly worn out this morning and after a miserable last hour’s ride in the rain, things have worked out pretty well and it was good to finish at around 3pm.
It was grey and very overcast as we left Carlisle this morning, but before we knew it we’d made Gretna and as a result obviously crossed into Scotland.
Russ hasn’t been to Scotland before and to be honest it’s not particularly impressive until you get north of Dumfries, when the countryside rolls out before you and immediately you begin to feel and understand that solitude of the Scottish countryside in a way that the Lake District and other touristy areas of beauty can’t quite deliver.
The cycle paths of Dumfries were up to the standards of their English counterparts before them, although they did take us through a particularly depressing council estate before the countryside enveloped us once more and we made our way towards Thornhill. Sadly it was this last part, the most attractive of the day, that delivered steady rain and when we arrived at the Guest House in Thornhill we were particularly pleased the be shown a nice room with large shower.
Russ dived in first and has also decided to wash some stuff, quite whether it’ll dry for the morning we’re not sure. More disappointingly I was about to have my shower when it seems all the hot water has gone. The guest house owner cannot give a decent enough answer as to why this should be, however I note from the guest information in the room they are heavily into green issues and make great play about showers operating at half pressure and only boiling enough water rather than filling the kettle blah blah. I guess therefore they only fire up the hot water for half an hour a day. Not impressed, still at least I can write this whilst waiting for the ‘boost’ button to work it’s magic.
We eat at a pub next door at 8 and then to bed. We’ve asked for breakfast at 7.30 so we can make progress to Largs, tomorrow’s planned destination.
Today has been a day of unexpected r&r thanks to a reassessment of the route over breakfast. Russ couldn’t understand why he’d incorporated a couple of dog-legs into the route, which when removed, lost nothing in pleasure, but more than 16 miles off the days planned 72.
As a result I’m sitting in our room at the Gillbank Guest House in Thornhill at 5pm writing this entry. We are still a full day ahead of schedule, but were able to achieve this will only 56 miles for the day. This was actually pretty good news all round. We both looked and felt decidedly worn out this morning and after a miserable last hour’s ride in the rain, things have worked out pretty well and it was good to finish at around 3pm.
It was grey and very overcast as we left Carlisle this morning, but before we knew it we’d made Gretna and as a result obviously crossed into Scotland.
Russ hasn’t been to Scotland before and to be honest it’s not particularly impressive until you get north of Dumfries, when the countryside rolls out before you and immediately you begin to feel and understand that solitude of the Scottish countryside in a way that the Lake District and other touristy areas of beauty can’t quite deliver.
The cycle paths of Dumfries were up to the standards of their English counterparts before them, although they did take us through a particularly depressing council estate before the countryside enveloped us once more and we made our way towards Thornhill. Sadly it was this last part, the most attractive of the day, that delivered steady rain and when we arrived at the Guest House in Thornhill we were particularly pleased the be shown a nice room with large shower.
Russ dived in first and has also decided to wash some stuff, quite whether it’ll dry for the morning we’re not sure. More disappointingly I was about to have my shower when it seems all the hot water has gone. The guest house owner cannot give a decent enough answer as to why this should be, however I note from the guest information in the room they are heavily into green issues and make great play about showers operating at half pressure and only boiling enough water rather than filling the kettle blah blah. I guess therefore they only fire up the hot water for half an hour a day. Not impressed, still at least I can write this whilst waiting for the ‘boost’ button to work it’s magic.
We eat at a pub next door at 8 and then to bed. We’ve asked for breakfast at 7.30 so we can make progress to Largs, tomorrow’s planned destination.
Day 8 - Friday, In God's Country
Total distance: 75.53 miles; total ascent 5157 feet; Ave Speed 9.7.mph; Maximum speed 33.6mph; total time in saddle 7 hours 49 minutes.
Surprisingly when Russ opened the curtains this morning the sun was shining. This was not expected.
After a below average breakfast served to us by the cleaner, we gathered our stuff together and prepared for what we both knew was going to be a big day. Gathering our stuff together is becoming a chore in itself. Every night everything explodes out of the panniers and every morning it has to be repacked maliciously to ensure that the panniers close ok and provide a water tight seal. Keeping stuff clean and fresh is difficult and my cycling gear is beginning to smell decidedly unpleasant. Hopefully soon we'll find a B&B or Guesthouse where we can properly wash and dry some stuff.
Unbelievably and no joke, the moment we made the first pedal stroke of the day it started spitting with rain. Immediately Russ decided it was not worth the risk and unpacked his waterproofs (jacket, trousers and over shoes). I followed suit with the over shoes (I already had on the jacket I bought yesterday and I don’t have any trousers).
As we followed the tow path to Carnforth (not a pleasant town) it rained, steadily but not heavily. We followed minor roads through the Yealand hamlets, past Beetham, Milnthrope, Underbarrow and then crossed into the Lake District country park. The wonder of this, my most favorite part of the country, stretched out in front of us, although the mountain tops looked ominously covered with black cloud, and it was generally grey and very overcast.
At Windermere we took the ferry and then followed the Hawkshead loop (v steep inclines) before joining up with the A591 at Rydal, just north of Ambleside. Before commencing on the A road, we purchased an ice cream, from the most garrulous ice cream seller north of Blackpool. The ice cream was excellent though , so good in fact that I had two (both with flakes).
Once on the A591 we headed north towards Keswick and tackled the longest incline yet – approx. 700 feet over nearly a mile. At the top I pulled over, hid behind a bush and lavished arse cream onto my shattered bum. Today the pain factor was in the 8s and 9s, I need things to sort themselves out and soon really, otherwise I fear I could be permanently crippled in this most sensitive area. (It was comforting though that when Russ caught up, he too took cover behind the same bush to engage with the arse cream, that made me feel a bit better).
Before Keswick we veered off right towards the wall of mountain that is Blencathra and stopped for photos and bananas. We then crossed the fearsome A66 and followed the adjacent cycle path until effectively turning left taking minor roads through Mungrisdale, Bowscale Fell and the enchanting Hesket Newmarket where we stopped at around 5.50pm for more food, which was well overdue, particularly for Russ.
The rain and dank morning had transformed itself into a beautiful late afternoon/early evening sunshine which bathed the beautiful vistas surrounding us. This part of the Lake District is truly unspoilt and left untouched by tourists, a real must for checking out and it was wonderful to be able to enjoy it, via the laziness of a push bike.
We finally made Carlisle around 7.30 and both agreed that the day had been quite intense. Not surprising seeing as it involved more the 5000 feet of climbing. A basic, but comfortable guest house was organised by the brilliant Ally who is really coming into her own in forward booking our accommodation – a task that will become even more important as we venture into Scotland.
Finally a big thank you to Stu and Silv, who organised a table for two at the Vivaldi Italian restaurant – by sheer fluke a stone’s throw from the Guest House. Even better the bill had been ‘taken care of’ – thank you so much guys, you are too generous!
Finally a sad note to end. Before we arrived at Windermere, we came across a beautiful owl that had become tragically stuck in barbed wire at the roadside, it's wing torn and bleeding. We could do nothing for the poor creature and being the animal lover that I am, the day was scarred somewhat by continually thinking it’s painful fate :’-(
Surprisingly when Russ opened the curtains this morning the sun was shining. This was not expected.
After a below average breakfast served to us by the cleaner, we gathered our stuff together and prepared for what we both knew was going to be a big day. Gathering our stuff together is becoming a chore in itself. Every night everything explodes out of the panniers and every morning it has to be repacked maliciously to ensure that the panniers close ok and provide a water tight seal. Keeping stuff clean and fresh is difficult and my cycling gear is beginning to smell decidedly unpleasant. Hopefully soon we'll find a B&B or Guesthouse where we can properly wash and dry some stuff.
Unbelievably and no joke, the moment we made the first pedal stroke of the day it started spitting with rain. Immediately Russ decided it was not worth the risk and unpacked his waterproofs (jacket, trousers and over shoes). I followed suit with the over shoes (I already had on the jacket I bought yesterday and I don’t have any trousers).
As we followed the tow path to Carnforth (not a pleasant town) it rained, steadily but not heavily. We followed minor roads through the Yealand hamlets, past Beetham, Milnthrope, Underbarrow and then crossed into the Lake District country park. The wonder of this, my most favorite part of the country, stretched out in front of us, although the mountain tops looked ominously covered with black cloud, and it was generally grey and very overcast.
At Windermere we took the ferry and then followed the Hawkshead loop (v steep inclines) before joining up with the A591 at Rydal, just north of Ambleside. Before commencing on the A road, we purchased an ice cream, from the most garrulous ice cream seller north of Blackpool. The ice cream was excellent though , so good in fact that I had two (both with flakes).
Once on the A591 we headed north towards Keswick and tackled the longest incline yet – approx. 700 feet over nearly a mile. At the top I pulled over, hid behind a bush and lavished arse cream onto my shattered bum. Today the pain factor was in the 8s and 9s, I need things to sort themselves out and soon really, otherwise I fear I could be permanently crippled in this most sensitive area. (It was comforting though that when Russ caught up, he too took cover behind the same bush to engage with the arse cream, that made me feel a bit better).
Before Keswick we veered off right towards the wall of mountain that is Blencathra and stopped for photos and bananas. We then crossed the fearsome A66 and followed the adjacent cycle path until effectively turning left taking minor roads through Mungrisdale, Bowscale Fell and the enchanting Hesket Newmarket where we stopped at around 5.50pm for more food, which was well overdue, particularly for Russ.
The rain and dank morning had transformed itself into a beautiful late afternoon/early evening sunshine which bathed the beautiful vistas surrounding us. This part of the Lake District is truly unspoilt and left untouched by tourists, a real must for checking out and it was wonderful to be able to enjoy it, via the laziness of a push bike.
We finally made Carlisle around 7.30 and both agreed that the day had been quite intense. Not surprising seeing as it involved more the 5000 feet of climbing. A basic, but comfortable guest house was organised by the brilliant Ally who is really coming into her own in forward booking our accommodation – a task that will become even more important as we venture into Scotland.
Finally a big thank you to Stu and Silv, who organised a table for two at the Vivaldi Italian restaurant – by sheer fluke a stone’s throw from the Guest House. Even better the bill had been ‘taken care of’ – thank you so much guys, you are too generous!
Finally a sad note to end. Before we arrived at Windermere, we came across a beautiful owl that had become tragically stuck in barbed wire at the roadside, it's wing torn and bleeding. We could do nothing for the poor creature and being the animal lover that I am, the day was scarred somewhat by continually thinking it’s painful fate :’-(
Thursday 19 May 2011
Day 7 - Thursday
Total distance: 77.80 miles; total ascent 3118 feet; Ave Speed 9.3mph; Maximum speed 35.4mph; total time in saddle 8 hours 20 minutes.
I seem to be more tired than usual tonight, although I put that down to the hulking great portion of Sticky Toffee pudding I've just rammed down. The Royal Hotel is very nice with above average food for this kind of place.
We are in Bolton-le-Sands, 3 miles short of our scheduled stop of Carnforth and we are a full day ahead of schedule. Tomorrow we should pass 550 miles total so far, which will mark the halfway point.
The days now seem to be coalescing into one. On reviewing the past 7 days on Runkeeper with Russ tonight, it was hard to remember what events happened on what day. It is even harder to believe that is was exactly one week ago as I write this, that I met with Russ at Reading services and we prepared for the off.
Today started slowly, the first 20 miles barely averaging 8 mph. Breaking out of Runcorn was a relief, although crossing the Runcorn-Widnes Bridge via the cycle path brought a degree of pleasure as we sailed past weary commuters stuck in queues of traffic. We then picked up the Trans Pennine Trail, passing Spike Island (where the Stones Roses played their legendary free gig on the wasteland) and threaded our way beside the Mersey and various heavy industry locations. We watched bewildered as men with fishing rods, who had clearly been positioned all night, seemed to be welded to their canvass chairs, staring blankly at the still water in front of them. We noted that at one point the air smelt thick with Formaldehyde and wondered why on earth the fishing fraternity wanted to plunder these waters anyway!
Warrington next and a fine set of cycle paths took us through leafy green parks, before we crossed the M62 and headed into Newton-le-Willows and Haydock.
I had my first bike problem in Haydock. Without warning I lost the ability to find the biggest three rear cogs. We pulled up and tinkered around a bit with cables until the problem was fixed. I'd had new gear and brake cables fitted before we started the trip and I guess it was only natural that some adjustment would be needed. I sensed we got away just in time, as from nowhere a couple of likely lads seemed to be worryingly loitering close-by.
We picked up a sandwich at a filling station (where I can't recall) and pressed on, zig-zagging across the M6.
Somewhat inevitably I guess it was time for my backside to start complaining and in some consideration pain, I stopped to apply the 'arse-cream' - a tub of Chamois Cream that looks uncannily like clotted cream. It needs to be applied as a lube, not rubbed in. I also took some pain killers for good order. I think the cream works it's way into my system more than is actually needed as since I've started using it, I had a really bad taste at the back of my mouth which I can't seem to shift - not pleasant, but infinity better than a bum that really does feel like it's being horse-whipped.
We stopped again at the pretty village of Scorton as I was getting hungry. Whilst parked up and munching, we realised there was a bike shop right in front of us. This enabled me to not only top up on the arse-cream supplies, but also to purchase some water-proof over shoes and a Gore waterproof which is more robust than the one I have at the moment and will probably be called into action tomorrow as the forecast sadly looks like it's changing.
Speaking of the weather, today was gorgeous and perfect bike weather. No wind, good long spells of sunshine with high clouds and about 16 degrees. In fact looking back, it's been amazing that so far we've only had about 30 minutes of rain.
The last 15 miles was perhaps the most memorable of the trip to date. The cycle path 10 miles south of Lancaster that starts at Condor Green was tremendous. Dead flat as it follows the River Lune until eventually coming into Lancaster, one of the best cities so far for cycle routes. Once north of Lancaster we followed the canal path, the air sweet with the smell of freshly cut hay meadows, wonderful gardens with private jetties and bowling green lawns, plus numerous examples wildlife. Even the dog walkers had more up-market canines with not a Staffie or No1 haircut in sight. Plus the arse cream had worked it's magic and to be honest I could have cycled for miles, soaking up the atmosphere. I really felt on holiday, which is, after all what this is.
Tomorrow we pass the halfway mark in our journey and hit my beloved Lake District and should end up at Carlisle (although hopefully not IN Carlisle as we have been warned it's really not nice and Russ has had enough of places with no reason for being).
Well that's about it for another day. I sense tomorrow will be a difficult one, the wet being prime culprit for that. But you never know. The Lakes tend to have their own micro-climate..
I seem to be more tired than usual tonight, although I put that down to the hulking great portion of Sticky Toffee pudding I've just rammed down. The Royal Hotel is very nice with above average food for this kind of place.
We are in Bolton-le-Sands, 3 miles short of our scheduled stop of Carnforth and we are a full day ahead of schedule. Tomorrow we should pass 550 miles total so far, which will mark the halfway point.
The days now seem to be coalescing into one. On reviewing the past 7 days on Runkeeper with Russ tonight, it was hard to remember what events happened on what day. It is even harder to believe that is was exactly one week ago as I write this, that I met with Russ at Reading services and we prepared for the off.
Today started slowly, the first 20 miles barely averaging 8 mph. Breaking out of Runcorn was a relief, although crossing the Runcorn-Widnes Bridge via the cycle path brought a degree of pleasure as we sailed past weary commuters stuck in queues of traffic. We then picked up the Trans Pennine Trail, passing Spike Island (where the Stones Roses played their legendary free gig on the wasteland) and threaded our way beside the Mersey and various heavy industry locations. We watched bewildered as men with fishing rods, who had clearly been positioned all night, seemed to be welded to their canvass chairs, staring blankly at the still water in front of them. We noted that at one point the air smelt thick with Formaldehyde and wondered why on earth the fishing fraternity wanted to plunder these waters anyway!
Warrington next and a fine set of cycle paths took us through leafy green parks, before we crossed the M62 and headed into Newton-le-Willows and Haydock.
I had my first bike problem in Haydock. Without warning I lost the ability to find the biggest three rear cogs. We pulled up and tinkered around a bit with cables until the problem was fixed. I'd had new gear and brake cables fitted before we started the trip and I guess it was only natural that some adjustment would be needed. I sensed we got away just in time, as from nowhere a couple of likely lads seemed to be worryingly loitering close-by.
We picked up a sandwich at a filling station (where I can't recall) and pressed on, zig-zagging across the M6.
Somewhat inevitably I guess it was time for my backside to start complaining and in some consideration pain, I stopped to apply the 'arse-cream' - a tub of Chamois Cream that looks uncannily like clotted cream. It needs to be applied as a lube, not rubbed in. I also took some pain killers for good order. I think the cream works it's way into my system more than is actually needed as since I've started using it, I had a really bad taste at the back of my mouth which I can't seem to shift - not pleasant, but infinity better than a bum that really does feel like it's being horse-whipped.
We stopped again at the pretty village of Scorton as I was getting hungry. Whilst parked up and munching, we realised there was a bike shop right in front of us. This enabled me to not only top up on the arse-cream supplies, but also to purchase some water-proof over shoes and a Gore waterproof which is more robust than the one I have at the moment and will probably be called into action tomorrow as the forecast sadly looks like it's changing.
Speaking of the weather, today was gorgeous and perfect bike weather. No wind, good long spells of sunshine with high clouds and about 16 degrees. In fact looking back, it's been amazing that so far we've only had about 30 minutes of rain.
The last 15 miles was perhaps the most memorable of the trip to date. The cycle path 10 miles south of Lancaster that starts at Condor Green was tremendous. Dead flat as it follows the River Lune until eventually coming into Lancaster, one of the best cities so far for cycle routes. Once north of Lancaster we followed the canal path, the air sweet with the smell of freshly cut hay meadows, wonderful gardens with private jetties and bowling green lawns, plus numerous examples wildlife. Even the dog walkers had more up-market canines with not a Staffie or No1 haircut in sight. Plus the arse cream had worked it's magic and to be honest I could have cycled for miles, soaking up the atmosphere. I really felt on holiday, which is, after all what this is.
Tomorrow we pass the halfway mark in our journey and hit my beloved Lake District and should end up at Carlisle (although hopefully not IN Carlisle as we have been warned it's really not nice and Russ has had enough of places with no reason for being).
Well that's about it for another day. I sense tomorrow will be a difficult one, the wet being prime culprit for that. But you never know. The Lakes tend to have their own micro-climate..
Wednesday 18 May 2011
Wednesday - Day 6
Total distance: 82.35 miles; total ascent 3638 feet; Ave Speed 10.5mph; Maximum speed 32.4mph; total time in saddle 7 hours 50 minutes.
We made an effort to leave a little earlier this morning and were breakfasted and on the road by 9.15. (A little later than planned as we had to take some emergency measures to get the 19th century toilet in our room tio flush).
We both slept well, although I seem to continually awake with a sinus related headache and have suffered all day today with a bad taste in the back of my mouth - I suspect this because I am obverdosing on the Otrivine nasal spray I am using like water right now.
We have changed our diets. Well not dramatically you understand - I have not become a fruitarian overnight, nor has Russ decided he can only eat raw fish. No we have just become aware that meat is probably more difficult to digest and therefore releasing the all important energy is not happening as quickly as we would like. Instead it tends to slumber and makes the 'graveyard' after lunch shift noticeably more tough.
As a result breakfast now tends to consist of Muesli and beans on toast, rather than hulking fry ups. Furthermore we are avoiding meat for lunch and today thanks to Tesco in Ellesmere, we both ate pasta salads (which DID actually come with a fork, so the entire plastic cutlery set I bought was rendered useless almost immediately).
I think meat in the evening is to be recommended though - hoorah for my ribeye steak tonight which was actually tremendous!
The day itself was very business like in it's progress. The early start meant by the time we rolled into Tescos we'd done 38 miles which was good. We had intermittent rain this morning. Much to my amusement, Russ was getting more and more frustrated by having to change in and out of his water-proof paraphernalia. It was heavy rain, just a couple of showers, but enough to be noticeable and for me to prey that the Ortleib panniers I bought on the recommendation of our friends at Thorn were going to be up to the job. Amongst everything else I have my £1300 work Macbook Air to think about and water in that fecker does not figure on the LeJoG agenda at any point.
Countryside was nice, in so much it is nice not to be in a town or city, but certainly this morning nowhere near as uplifting as yesterday. This afternoon was better as we passed through Manchester United footballers home territory to the east of Chester.
One highlight of the day was a early on. The downhill run into Minsterley on the A488 went on for about 3 miles and was hugely exhilarating - I think Imust have averaged 25mphon that stretch. It also helped to ensure the early average speed stats were the right side of 10mph - very physiologically important to the long distance biker rider!
The day ended in Runcorn, which, as Russ said is a town with no point. However, in it's favour is yet again a tremendous network of cycle routes and once more I have to proclaim my love for these things. The liberation of navigating seamlessly through large towns and cities without having to concern one's self with roundabouts, junctions, lorries and bicycle hating drivers is just wonderful. And there's a lot more of this tomorrow as we tackle Widnes, Preston and Lancaster.
Runcorn was not our planned stopping place. But the only place with rooms available was at a Camanile Hotel chain. Think of it as a sort of Premier Inn but for tradesmen and football supporters. It's the only 'hotel' I've ever stayed at where everything in the room is bolted down and there are two, yes two lockable doors that need to be opened to gain entry. Needless to say the bikes are sleeping with us tonight.
Russ has started to gently snore behind me, so it's about time I quit the blog and in anycase, with only one plug socket in the room, I need to juggle our multitude of electronic GPS orientated gadgetry.
Continental breakfast (£4) at seven and then a swift getaway. My legs will be turning more quickly than usual first thing tomorrow in my quest to get back to fresh air and green canvass.
We made an effort to leave a little earlier this morning and were breakfasted and on the road by 9.15. (A little later than planned as we had to take some emergency measures to get the 19th century toilet in our room tio flush).
We both slept well, although I seem to continually awake with a sinus related headache and have suffered all day today with a bad taste in the back of my mouth - I suspect this because I am obverdosing on the Otrivine nasal spray I am using like water right now.
We have changed our diets. Well not dramatically you understand - I have not become a fruitarian overnight, nor has Russ decided he can only eat raw fish. No we have just become aware that meat is probably more difficult to digest and therefore releasing the all important energy is not happening as quickly as we would like. Instead it tends to slumber and makes the 'graveyard' after lunch shift noticeably more tough.
As a result breakfast now tends to consist of Muesli and beans on toast, rather than hulking fry ups. Furthermore we are avoiding meat for lunch and today thanks to Tesco in Ellesmere, we both ate pasta salads (which DID actually come with a fork, so the entire plastic cutlery set I bought was rendered useless almost immediately).
I think meat in the evening is to be recommended though - hoorah for my ribeye steak tonight which was actually tremendous!
The day itself was very business like in it's progress. The early start meant by the time we rolled into Tescos we'd done 38 miles which was good. We had intermittent rain this morning. Much to my amusement, Russ was getting more and more frustrated by having to change in and out of his water-proof paraphernalia. It was heavy rain, just a couple of showers, but enough to be noticeable and for me to prey that the Ortleib panniers I bought on the recommendation of our friends at Thorn were going to be up to the job. Amongst everything else I have my £1300 work Macbook Air to think about and water in that fecker does not figure on the LeJoG agenda at any point.
Countryside was nice, in so much it is nice not to be in a town or city, but certainly this morning nowhere near as uplifting as yesterday. This afternoon was better as we passed through Manchester United footballers home territory to the east of Chester.
One highlight of the day was a early on. The downhill run into Minsterley on the A488 went on for about 3 miles and was hugely exhilarating - I think Imust have averaged 25mphon that stretch. It also helped to ensure the early average speed stats were the right side of 10mph - very physiologically important to the long distance biker rider!
The day ended in Runcorn, which, as Russ said is a town with no point. However, in it's favour is yet again a tremendous network of cycle routes and once more I have to proclaim my love for these things. The liberation of navigating seamlessly through large towns and cities without having to concern one's self with roundabouts, junctions, lorries and bicycle hating drivers is just wonderful. And there's a lot more of this tomorrow as we tackle Widnes, Preston and Lancaster.
Runcorn was not our planned stopping place. But the only place with rooms available was at a Camanile Hotel chain. Think of it as a sort of Premier Inn but for tradesmen and football supporters. It's the only 'hotel' I've ever stayed at where everything in the room is bolted down and there are two, yes two lockable doors that need to be opened to gain entry. Needless to say the bikes are sleeping with us tonight.
Russ has started to gently snore behind me, so it's about time I quit the blog and in anycase, with only one plug socket in the room, I need to juggle our multitude of electronic GPS orientated gadgetry.
Continental breakfast (£4) at seven and then a swift getaway. My legs will be turning more quickly than usual first thing tomorrow in my quest to get back to fresh air and green canvass.
Tuesday 17 May 2011
Postscript
Had wonderful meal in an Indian restaurant across the road from the guest house. It has no drinks licence so we stocked up on lovely lager from the Co-Op before demolishing exotic Indian cuisine cooked to perfection and all for the princely sume of £26.
Then another unusual event - I used a phonebox for the first timein about 10 years. O2 have been nothing short of a shambles today and with no signal since setting off this morning, I felt the urgent need to hear my wife's voice and to offer her words of comfort following her past few traumatic days.
If ever there was a time I should be at home rather than gallivanting from one end of the country to the other, it is now :-|
Then another unusual event - I used a phonebox for the first timein about 10 years. O2 have been nothing short of a shambles today and with no signal since setting off this morning, I felt the urgent need to hear my wife's voice and to offer her words of comfort following her past few traumatic days.
If ever there was a time I should be at home rather than gallivanting from one end of the country to the other, it is now :-|
Tuesday - Day 5, Solitude
Total distance: 61.33 miles; total ascent 3189 feet; Ave Speed 10.0mph; Maximum speed 35mph; total time in saddle 6 hours 09 minutes.
Typing this in the lounge of the Porch Guest House, Bishops Castle, Shropshire whilst Russ languishes in an enormous bath. We actually cut today short because, well, not to put too fine a point on it, his arse is currently in tatters. It really doesn't matter though, as we are almost a full day ahead of schedule. We're confident though that thanks to Chamois cream and a shorter day in the saddle, normal 70 mile service should be resumed tomorrow.
There's not a huge amount to say about today other than the fact it was a delight to discover so much of this rich and fertile country that until now I had never seen or even knew existed. Our entire day was spent traversing through quaint hamlets, farms and countless homes to middle England's finest. We saw countless lush green fields with healthy looking beef cattle, grazing sheep and witnessed a wonderful galloping horse come rushing down his enormous hillside paddock as his owner called to him. Dogs barked, birds sang and the air was so fresh you could almost drink it in.
As I mentioned, we are staying tonight in an old traditional market town, probably the largest inhabited area we have seen all day, but even Bishops Castle, with it's traditional Inn (and bastard steep hill to the Guest House) cannot be home to much more than a thousand people.
Fuelled with an enormous breakfast, we set off at around 9.45 this morning and threading our way gradually northwards. Having not had any wifi last night we guessed that the terrain would be hilly, but it really wasn't too bad, or perhaps we are getting into our stride? The weather was overcast and there were a few spits of rain, but no wind to speak of meant our target pace of 10mph was comfortably achieved.
The bike's performing well, other than the fact it's the wrong one for the job (I shall be having words with Thorn Cycles when I get back - why sell a man who plans to undertake a two week touring event a fast road bike??) Still, with the exception of an annoying slipping large to middle cog at the front, everything else is holding out well, touch wood.
That's about it for now. I'm waiting for Russ to finish his bathing so I can get clean too. Frankly I can smell myself kicking up a bit and it's probably time to put the old shorts and base layer in the sink for a wash and soak.
There's a very good Indian across the road, we'll probably give that a try tonight and have an early night. Russ wants to be away earlier tomorrow to try and make up for the shorter day today. Oh Boy...
Typing this in the lounge of the Porch Guest House, Bishops Castle, Shropshire whilst Russ languishes in an enormous bath. We actually cut today short because, well, not to put too fine a point on it, his arse is currently in tatters. It really doesn't matter though, as we are almost a full day ahead of schedule. We're confident though that thanks to Chamois cream and a shorter day in the saddle, normal 70 mile service should be resumed tomorrow.
There's not a huge amount to say about today other than the fact it was a delight to discover so much of this rich and fertile country that until now I had never seen or even knew existed. Our entire day was spent traversing through quaint hamlets, farms and countless homes to middle England's finest. We saw countless lush green fields with healthy looking beef cattle, grazing sheep and witnessed a wonderful galloping horse come rushing down his enormous hillside paddock as his owner called to him. Dogs barked, birds sang and the air was so fresh you could almost drink it in.
As I mentioned, we are staying tonight in an old traditional market town, probably the largest inhabited area we have seen all day, but even Bishops Castle, with it's traditional Inn (and bastard steep hill to the Guest House) cannot be home to much more than a thousand people.
Fuelled with an enormous breakfast, we set off at around 9.45 this morning and threading our way gradually northwards. Having not had any wifi last night we guessed that the terrain would be hilly, but it really wasn't too bad, or perhaps we are getting into our stride? The weather was overcast and there were a few spits of rain, but no wind to speak of meant our target pace of 10mph was comfortably achieved.
The bike's performing well, other than the fact it's the wrong one for the job (I shall be having words with Thorn Cycles when I get back - why sell a man who plans to undertake a two week touring event a fast road bike??) Still, with the exception of an annoying slipping large to middle cog at the front, everything else is holding out well, touch wood.
That's about it for now. I'm waiting for Russ to finish his bathing so I can get clean too. Frankly I can smell myself kicking up a bit and it's probably time to put the old shorts and base layer in the sink for a wash and soak.
There's a very good Indian across the road, we'll probably give that a try tonight and have an early night. Russ wants to be away earlier tomorrow to try and make up for the shorter day today. Oh Boy...
Monday - Day 4 Into Wales
Total distance: 79.27 miles; total ascent 3383 feet; Ave Speed 10.mph; Maximum speed 39mph; total time in saddle 7 hours 54 minutes.
After a luxurious breakfast courtesy of our slightly ‘impatient’ Guest House owner, we set out around 9.30 from Burnham on Sea. It was distinctly overcast and quite chilly, I was surprised we didn’t see any rain, but once again, thankfully our day was rain-free.
First target was Weston Super Mare and after a comfort break at the largest Waitrose I’ve ever seen, Russ skillfully navigated us on cycle paths through the wastelands of WSM’s Council Estates. Once free of these scars, we continued to follow the cycle route effectively adjacent to the M5 until we eventually hit Avonmouth and the excitement of crossing the Avon bridge. This was a particularly novel experience. I hadn’t realized that cycle paths existed across these motorway bridges and it was quite surreal to stop in the middle of the bridge and take photos, whilst the traffic literally thundered past no more than 10 feet away and the bridge swayed beneath our feet.
The nation’s cycle network is a treasure that only some discover. Today I discovered. I was amazed as Russ’s meticulous planning took us through the Avonmouth metropolis, via heavy industry factories and across wasteland usually only ever mentioned when “bodies are discovered by dog walkers”. All these routes are clearly marked, the majority well made and, above all, a real delight to ride on and discover. We never once touch an A road or took our chances on busy junctions or roundabouts. I’m hooked!
Eventually we made the Severn Bridge an experience similar to it’s Avonmouth equivalent, albeit far more intimidating thanks to estuary winds strong enough to nearly knock over the modest Lycra clad cyclist. Once on the other side, we punched the air as we ticked off another landmark – our entry to Wales. However, what had been a previously flat 35 miles then turned nasty. A nastiness that sort of creeps up on you. Gentle slops become inclines, became hills, became mountains - well it certainly felt that way.
We stopped just outside Chepstow race course to call Ally to sort the night’s accommodation and for the first time I realised just how tired I was. As I rested my helmet clad head on the bars of a metal entrance gate to the race courses’ parking area, I contemplated the 25 odd miles we had yet to make to Monmouth – the point where we decided to make overnight stay decisions. I hadn’t hit ‘the wall’ but I certainly wasn’t feeling as spirited and agile as I had when we set out from Lands End. As we traversed the A448 to Monmouth, I marveled at how Russ held the lead and clearly had greater energy levels than myself. I found myself becoming insanely jealous at the fact that he stopped training 6 weeks ago because his knee was giving him jip – just at the time I was ramping up my training to what I had hoped would see my through this ludicrous challenge.
Nevertheless after a couple of banana, pine nut, Red Bull and chocolate Brazilnut stops we finally made Monmouth at which point Russ called Ally to find out what she had been able to sort for the night’s accommodation.
Our original plan had been to stop at Skimforth Castle, some 5 miles north of Monmouth, however I was sorely hoping that Ally had been able to find a wonderful 16th century Inn, with luxurious bedrooms, power showers and a restaurant that specialized in 16oz T-Bone steaks in the centre of town. Not quite. Accommodation awaited us at Grosmont some 10 miles further on, which would take our daily mileage consumption to nearly 80, probably 15 miles than either of us had hoped for.
At that exact moment, I received a call from my very good friend Stu Bayliss, who, by coincidence was on-route to Exeter for a business meeting in the morning and knowing that our possible end destination for the day was Monmouth, had parked up outside Pizza Express in the High Street and had expressed a desire to share a meal with the two cycling nutters. The time was around 6.45. I explained to Stu that accommodation was booked some 10 miles or so up the road and that by pedal that was 1 hour away. Because he is the top bloke he is, this phased him not one jot and we all effectively set off for Grosmont.
Russ was quick to point out to me that with a name like Grosmont, it was hardly likely to be at the foot of the valley and Stu, who had been kind enough to power his 520 BMW Tourer to the end point to check things out, quickly confirmed that after 70 miles, this was not a great place to finish our day. Monmouth to Grosmont added around 800 feet to our total daily ascent.
Ultimately this didn’t matter. The guest house where I’m typing this is utterly charming and run by a wonderful widow how has shown great kindness and hospitality. A huge house, overlooking the delightful Monmouthshire countryside, with more charm and character than Dickens’s finest. Stu has been kind enough to drive us to a pub some 6 miles away where we have been superbly fed and watered and we got our wish for some fresh vegetables – the first of the trip.
So there you have it. Another monstrous day. I’m still in awe of my own capacity to achieve what I have done so far. Tomorrow looks tough – very tough. Although as we are currently so remote, with no WiFi or mobile signal (hence a day late in posting this) we can’t test the altitude climbs for tomorrow via the website Bike Hike. Probably just as well, or I might have just decided to stay in Stu’s lovely warm, comfortable 5 Series and assist him with his business meeting instead…
After a luxurious breakfast courtesy of our slightly ‘impatient’ Guest House owner, we set out around 9.30 from Burnham on Sea. It was distinctly overcast and quite chilly, I was surprised we didn’t see any rain, but once again, thankfully our day was rain-free.
First target was Weston Super Mare and after a comfort break at the largest Waitrose I’ve ever seen, Russ skillfully navigated us on cycle paths through the wastelands of WSM’s Council Estates. Once free of these scars, we continued to follow the cycle route effectively adjacent to the M5 until we eventually hit Avonmouth and the excitement of crossing the Avon bridge. This was a particularly novel experience. I hadn’t realized that cycle paths existed across these motorway bridges and it was quite surreal to stop in the middle of the bridge and take photos, whilst the traffic literally thundered past no more than 10 feet away and the bridge swayed beneath our feet.
The nation’s cycle network is a treasure that only some discover. Today I discovered. I was amazed as Russ’s meticulous planning took us through the Avonmouth metropolis, via heavy industry factories and across wasteland usually only ever mentioned when “bodies are discovered by dog walkers”. All these routes are clearly marked, the majority well made and, above all, a real delight to ride on and discover. We never once touch an A road or took our chances on busy junctions or roundabouts. I’m hooked!
Eventually we made the Severn Bridge an experience similar to it’s Avonmouth equivalent, albeit far more intimidating thanks to estuary winds strong enough to nearly knock over the modest Lycra clad cyclist. Once on the other side, we punched the air as we ticked off another landmark – our entry to Wales. However, what had been a previously flat 35 miles then turned nasty. A nastiness that sort of creeps up on you. Gentle slops become inclines, became hills, became mountains - well it certainly felt that way.
We stopped just outside Chepstow race course to call Ally to sort the night’s accommodation and for the first time I realised just how tired I was. As I rested my helmet clad head on the bars of a metal entrance gate to the race courses’ parking area, I contemplated the 25 odd miles we had yet to make to Monmouth – the point where we decided to make overnight stay decisions. I hadn’t hit ‘the wall’ but I certainly wasn’t feeling as spirited and agile as I had when we set out from Lands End. As we traversed the A448 to Monmouth, I marveled at how Russ held the lead and clearly had greater energy levels than myself. I found myself becoming insanely jealous at the fact that he stopped training 6 weeks ago because his knee was giving him jip – just at the time I was ramping up my training to what I had hoped would see my through this ludicrous challenge.
Nevertheless after a couple of banana, pine nut, Red Bull and chocolate Brazilnut stops we finally made Monmouth at which point Russ called Ally to find out what she had been able to sort for the night’s accommodation.
Our original plan had been to stop at Skimforth Castle, some 5 miles north of Monmouth, however I was sorely hoping that Ally had been able to find a wonderful 16th century Inn, with luxurious bedrooms, power showers and a restaurant that specialized in 16oz T-Bone steaks in the centre of town. Not quite. Accommodation awaited us at Grosmont some 10 miles further on, which would take our daily mileage consumption to nearly 80, probably 15 miles than either of us had hoped for.
At that exact moment, I received a call from my very good friend Stu Bayliss, who, by coincidence was on-route to Exeter for a business meeting in the morning and knowing that our possible end destination for the day was Monmouth, had parked up outside Pizza Express in the High Street and had expressed a desire to share a meal with the two cycling nutters. The time was around 6.45. I explained to Stu that accommodation was booked some 10 miles or so up the road and that by pedal that was 1 hour away. Because he is the top bloke he is, this phased him not one jot and we all effectively set off for Grosmont.
Russ was quick to point out to me that with a name like Grosmont, it was hardly likely to be at the foot of the valley and Stu, who had been kind enough to power his 520 BMW Tourer to the end point to check things out, quickly confirmed that after 70 miles, this was not a great place to finish our day. Monmouth to Grosmont added around 800 feet to our total daily ascent.
Ultimately this didn’t matter. The guest house where I’m typing this is utterly charming and run by a wonderful widow how has shown great kindness and hospitality. A huge house, overlooking the delightful Monmouthshire countryside, with more charm and character than Dickens’s finest. Stu has been kind enough to drive us to a pub some 6 miles away where we have been superbly fed and watered and we got our wish for some fresh vegetables – the first of the trip.
So there you have it. Another monstrous day. I’m still in awe of my own capacity to achieve what I have done so far. Tomorrow looks tough – very tough. Although as we are currently so remote, with no WiFi or mobile signal (hence a day late in posting this) we can’t test the altitude climbs for tomorrow via the website Bike Hike. Probably just as well, or I might have just decided to stay in Stu’s lovely warm, comfortable 5 Series and assist him with his business meeting instead…
Monday 16 May 2011
Day 3 - The Pain and the Pleasure
Distance - 94.62 miles; total ascent - 5197 feet; ave speed - 9.6mph; max speed - 35mph; total time in saddle - 9 hours 53 minutes.
I'm typing this lying on the bed in the extraordinarily nice Guest House 'Magnolia House' in Burnham on Sea looking back at just what we have achieved today. It's almost midnight and we've only been here for just over 2 hours. Saddle time over nine hours and the day from start to finish over 12 hours. It seems an eternity since we set off this morning from the Royal Hotel in Bideford.
Russ and I have a mutual friend Paul Fryer who kindly came to see us last night at the hotel for a beer and to wish us well. Not really too much of a chore for the big fella seeing as he lives down the road in Barnstable. He brought with him a friend of his Robert and he agreed to join us today on part of our ride from Barnstable to Exmoor. We met Rob in the village of Gunn having got horribly lost first in Barnstable, at one point ending up in an estate that made Beruit look like Disneyland. Rob then proceeded to ride with us to the summit of Exmoor on his mountain bike and was top company. The 1600 foot climb was quite something although sadly yet again my bike's gearing meant I had to push for a bit up the steepest part. Photos taken at the summit we made our way down taking in some of the most wonderful views I have seen.
We had mistakenly thought that once at out of the national park area the terrain would immediately flattern out, but not a bit of it. Following cycle route 3 we took in some more killer hills which combined meant the days total ascent was once again well in excess of 5000.
We initially had decided to aim for Taunton and see how we felt in terms of how much we would attempt to do today. Before arriving though and after threading our way through some delightful and remote Somerset villages and hamlets, we came across a rather splendid looking inn which offered accommodation and good food. I was quite prepared to call it a day- having done 65 miles plus it was 6.30 and as a result I felt the prospect of a hot bath, good meal and a few beers to be the perfect way to round off our Exmoor endeavours.
Russ however was having none of it. He was determined that we should made Burnham on sea another 25 miles on, thus getting a full day ahead of schedule. "Let's treat like an evening ride, imagine it all starts now eh? And anyway it's all flat from here"
Somewhat reluctantly I agreed and in fairness he was right about the flat bit. Taunton to Bridgewater following the canal tow path would have been excellent, save for the thousands of midges invading every orifice as we tried to pick up the pace.
We arrived in Bridgewater at dusk to discover that Ally, Russ's Mum had not only booked our accommodation in Burnham but was coming down to meet us with some more supplies of protein and chocolate bars and some stuff for Russ (like Russ, she also lives in Bristol a mere 30 miles up the road).
What a godsend this was and, on arriving in darkness just before 10pm, Ally and the Guest House owner made us immediately welcome. Splendid room, the best shower I've had for ages and a chinese takeaway kindly bought and fetched by Ally, served to make the proceeding 92 miles one of the best journeys of my life.
Hard to believe we are almost a fifth of the way through the challenge....
Postscript - the only sad part of the day was to learn that my darling wife had spent most of the afternoon at the vets after Bally her beloved Lusitano mare had broken loose and run amuck through our paddocks and garden with a metal gate in tow. Thank goodness her rear leg wasn't broken, but she remains at the vets for the next few days and fingers crossed that she makes a full a swift recovery. Larri herself sports a black eye and some bruising. I'm thinking of you my love and so sorry I wasn't around to help out xx
I'm typing this lying on the bed in the extraordinarily nice Guest House 'Magnolia House' in Burnham on Sea looking back at just what we have achieved today. It's almost midnight and we've only been here for just over 2 hours. Saddle time over nine hours and the day from start to finish over 12 hours. It seems an eternity since we set off this morning from the Royal Hotel in Bideford.
Russ and I have a mutual friend Paul Fryer who kindly came to see us last night at the hotel for a beer and to wish us well. Not really too much of a chore for the big fella seeing as he lives down the road in Barnstable. He brought with him a friend of his Robert and he agreed to join us today on part of our ride from Barnstable to Exmoor. We met Rob in the village of Gunn having got horribly lost first in Barnstable, at one point ending up in an estate that made Beruit look like Disneyland. Rob then proceeded to ride with us to the summit of Exmoor on his mountain bike and was top company. The 1600 foot climb was quite something although sadly yet again my bike's gearing meant I had to push for a bit up the steepest part. Photos taken at the summit we made our way down taking in some of the most wonderful views I have seen.
We had mistakenly thought that once at out of the national park area the terrain would immediately flattern out, but not a bit of it. Following cycle route 3 we took in some more killer hills which combined meant the days total ascent was once again well in excess of 5000.
We initially had decided to aim for Taunton and see how we felt in terms of how much we would attempt to do today. Before arriving though and after threading our way through some delightful and remote Somerset villages and hamlets, we came across a rather splendid looking inn which offered accommodation and good food. I was quite prepared to call it a day- having done 65 miles plus it was 6.30 and as a result I felt the prospect of a hot bath, good meal and a few beers to be the perfect way to round off our Exmoor endeavours.
Russ however was having none of it. He was determined that we should made Burnham on sea another 25 miles on, thus getting a full day ahead of schedule. "Let's treat like an evening ride, imagine it all starts now eh? And anyway it's all flat from here"
Somewhat reluctantly I agreed and in fairness he was right about the flat bit. Taunton to Bridgewater following the canal tow path would have been excellent, save for the thousands of midges invading every orifice as we tried to pick up the pace.
We arrived in Bridgewater at dusk to discover that Ally, Russ's Mum had not only booked our accommodation in Burnham but was coming down to meet us with some more supplies of protein and chocolate bars and some stuff for Russ (like Russ, she also lives in Bristol a mere 30 miles up the road).
What a godsend this was and, on arriving in darkness just before 10pm, Ally and the Guest House owner made us immediately welcome. Splendid room, the best shower I've had for ages and a chinese takeaway kindly bought and fetched by Ally, served to make the proceeding 92 miles one of the best journeys of my life.
Hard to believe we are almost a fifth of the way through the challenge....
Postscript - the only sad part of the day was to learn that my darling wife had spent most of the afternoon at the vets after Bally her beloved Lusitano mare had broken loose and run amuck through our paddocks and garden with a metal gate in tow. Thank goodness her rear leg wasn't broken, but she remains at the vets for the next few days and fingers crossed that she makes a full a swift recovery. Larri herself sports a black eye and some bruising. I'm thinking of you my love and so sorry I wasn't around to help out xx
Saturday 14 May 2011
Day 2 - The Serious Work Starts
Distance - 79.67 miles; total ascent - 5850 feet; ave speed - 10.3mph; max speed - 36.2mph; total time in saddle - 7 hours 41 minutes.
Opened curtains to glorious sunshine which by and large has stayed with us all day. Certainly there has been no rain and I have a sunburnt calf.
After breakfast we set up off at around 9.30 and made out way to Newquay. Russ has done a fantastic job of sussing out cycle routes and the best off road options and we seemed to navigate through Newquay without even realising. The next session was cruel - Newquay to Padstow has frequent decents into tiny coastal hamlets and towns, which are invariably followed by vicious ascents back up to cliff top level and beyond at around 400+ feet high. One particular 1 in 5 climb saw me having to get off and push - my bike's gearing is not low enough to allow me to get up sufficient cadence to ensure I don't come to a halt and topple over. Russ was more determined than me, and helped on by his larger rear cog, he failed to succumb to getting off.
Eventually we arrived at horribly touristy Padstow, with people milling about in the middle of the narrow streets and we got a number of frowns even though we were riding on the roads. The Padstow to Rock ferry was a novelty, although we narrowly avoided a problem when Russ's bungee cords became tangled in his spokes when we disembarked.
Food next, a proper Cornish Pasty in a bakery outside Rock and then onwards with the job in hand. Eventually we joined up with the A39 and although it has been our intention to avoid A roads, this trunk route was unusually quiet. We had planned to come off and navigate via Bude to our ultimate destination of Bideford, however we both agreed that the road flowed well and as our progress had vastly improved (ave around 14mph compared to 8mph in the morning), we decided to stay on this road until Bideford itself.
Arriving in Bideford we found The Royal Hotel had a twin room and whilst the hotel itself is very nice, room etc, there is a wedding on, and as I type this, we're wondering how long the disco will go on into the night :-( On arrival having placed the bikes in what we hoped would be a safe place, I had to weave through scantily clad wedding female guests and nudge past the Bride Groom, all dressed in cycling shorts and racing jerseys (me not the guests) - all very embarrassing.
We've had to get the bikes moved into a room, to which I have the key as some of the children at the wedding were starting to fiddle around with Russ's bike.
So 80 miles, over 6000 feet ascent and feeling quite tired, but extremely elated and pleased with our progress so far. Quite whether I'll be feeling the same in a week's time remains to be seen...
Tomorrow we plan for more of the same, with the morning ascent into Exmoor being around 1500 feet, after which things even out and we should make good progress on the relative flat to Burnham on Sea.
Opened curtains to glorious sunshine which by and large has stayed with us all day. Certainly there has been no rain and I have a sunburnt calf.
After breakfast we set up off at around 9.30 and made out way to Newquay. Russ has done a fantastic job of sussing out cycle routes and the best off road options and we seemed to navigate through Newquay without even realising. The next session was cruel - Newquay to Padstow has frequent decents into tiny coastal hamlets and towns, which are invariably followed by vicious ascents back up to cliff top level and beyond at around 400+ feet high. One particular 1 in 5 climb saw me having to get off and push - my bike's gearing is not low enough to allow me to get up sufficient cadence to ensure I don't come to a halt and topple over. Russ was more determined than me, and helped on by his larger rear cog, he failed to succumb to getting off.
Eventually we arrived at horribly touristy Padstow, with people milling about in the middle of the narrow streets and we got a number of frowns even though we were riding on the roads. The Padstow to Rock ferry was a novelty, although we narrowly avoided a problem when Russ's bungee cords became tangled in his spokes when we disembarked.
Food next, a proper Cornish Pasty in a bakery outside Rock and then onwards with the job in hand. Eventually we joined up with the A39 and although it has been our intention to avoid A roads, this trunk route was unusually quiet. We had planned to come off and navigate via Bude to our ultimate destination of Bideford, however we both agreed that the road flowed well and as our progress had vastly improved (ave around 14mph compared to 8mph in the morning), we decided to stay on this road until Bideford itself.
Arriving in Bideford we found The Royal Hotel had a twin room and whilst the hotel itself is very nice, room etc, there is a wedding on, and as I type this, we're wondering how long the disco will go on into the night :-( On arrival having placed the bikes in what we hoped would be a safe place, I had to weave through scantily clad wedding female guests and nudge past the Bride Groom, all dressed in cycling shorts and racing jerseys (me not the guests) - all very embarrassing.
We've had to get the bikes moved into a room, to which I have the key as some of the children at the wedding were starting to fiddle around with Russ's bike.
So 80 miles, over 6000 feet ascent and feeling quite tired, but extremely elated and pleased with our progress so far. Quite whether I'll be feeling the same in a week's time remains to be seen...
Tomorrow we plan for more of the same, with the morning ascent into Exmoor being around 1500 feet, after which things even out and we should make good progress on the relative flat to Burnham on Sea.
The Journey Begins
Blog Entry Friday 13th May – Day 1 (Blogger was conveniently down!)
Distance – 45.85 miles; Total ascent 3642; Ave speed 10.2 mph; Max speed 37.5mph; Total time in saddle 4 hours 31 minutes.
Russ woke me at around 6.30 where I had been sleeping on his sofa, despite this got a decent night’s sleep. We had a quick cuppa, before gathering our stuff together and then getting the bikes fixed to the bike rack. This took a little longer than anticipated, so we didn’t make Russ’s Mum’s until around 8.30.
Russ’s Mum Ally had kindly offered to drive us to Lands End (approx. 200 miles from Bristol) and supervise our departure. Sandwiches, drinks and energy bars were bestowed upon us too, which was welcome.
Arrived at LE around midday and after about an hour of phaffing around getting prepared (not helped by me putting in a contact lens the wrong way round and Russ thinking he’d forgotten half his gear) we were ready to depart We did the obligatory piccie by the sign posts (without paying) and crossed the ‘start line’ at around 1:06. I was almost immediately overtaken and touched by a knob in a people carrier- seriously not even 25 yards into the bloody run. Let’s hope this never happens again!
Russ had been meticulous in making sure we took cycle routes wherever possible and the first 2 miles was on Route 3 (I think), before meeting up with the A30 for a mile or so and then veering off northwards towards Zennor, St Just etc. A brief shower didn’t dampen our spirits and generally the weather we perfect today. Just a breath of wind, gentle sunshine, but a couple of rain clouds rolled in from the Atlantic and gave us some showers. No complaints I know we’ll get a lot worse before too long!
Some of the climbs today were quite fierce. Even during training I’d never covered more than 2000 upwards feet in any one 50 mile run. I have also discovered that my bike, whilst perfectly balance and set for Audex runs, does not enjoy gear ratios as low as Russ’s bike – a Tourer. This meant that I had to rise up from the saddle for most of the sharper inclining otherwise risk coming to a standstill. Russ’s gear set up meant he was seemingly able to pedal much more quickly thanks to smaller/bigger cogs. Ah well, not to worry (yet)!
The bike performed well, it has some irritating squeaks and whines that seem to come from the front mud-guard, but try as I might with the oil, I can’t seem to find their source.
Impromptu fish and chips at around 5pm at Peneath gave us the will power to push on to St Anges and then 5 miles further to Perranporth, where we decided that at around 7pm that was enough for day one. After a failed Youth Hostel attempt, we ended up at a hotel the name of which escapes me, but was able to offer secure storage for the bikes, a decent shower and food and liquid refreshment.
It was so great to talk to Larri this evening and hear her bubbling with enthusiasm and bursting with pride. I miss her so much. She’s been watching our progress on Runkeeper Live and somehow although we are apart, what with text messages, Facebook and Runkeeper it’s amazing just how with today’s technology you can almost be together even though many many miles separate you.
The legs know they worked hard today and there’s the same tomorrow in terms of ascent, but overall we are feeling very positive about today, especially as it was only really half a day. I won’t feel like we are really into the serious business until we’ve got a couple of consecutive 70/80 milers under our belts.
I’ll sleep well tonight.
Thursday 12 May 2011
Work is Over, Now for the Pain...
By a lucky charm, somehow managed to leave the office much earlier than I had anticipated. Now, at last I can concentrate on the job in hand, although I don't want to think too much about what's ahead, as I might just decide to duck out.
Now at home, final packing arrangements are in hand, squeezing the most out of my two panniers. With careful planning, I hope to keep the weight to around 12kgs, which bearing in mind I'll be away for 16 days isn't bad going - ladies take note next time you take a weekend city break ;-)
My brother Chris has kindly offered to take me to Reading Service this evening where I'll meet up with Russ. We then drive to Russ's flat in Bristol where we'll stay the night, then up at the crack of Sparrows tomorrow to head for Lands End for the big off. Larri has volunteered for the biggest help of the lot - driving up to JoG to meet us and bring us home again, somehow I know that will be a huge relief, the thought of getting trains and buses and organising bike transportation after 1100 miles in the saddle, really would take the icing off the highs of achievement (assuming we do achieve that is).
Finally a short note of thanks to all those that have sponsored so far - I've been really touched by the number of people that have contributed to the Just Giving site. Customers, friends and staff, your generosity has been unbelievable. Thank you.
http://www.justgiving.com/Giles-Bowes/
Now at home, final packing arrangements are in hand, squeezing the most out of my two panniers. With careful planning, I hope to keep the weight to around 12kgs, which bearing in mind I'll be away for 16 days isn't bad going - ladies take note next time you take a weekend city break ;-)
My brother Chris has kindly offered to take me to Reading Service this evening where I'll meet up with Russ. We then drive to Russ's flat in Bristol where we'll stay the night, then up at the crack of Sparrows tomorrow to head for Lands End for the big off. Larri has volunteered for the biggest help of the lot - driving up to JoG to meet us and bring us home again, somehow I know that will be a huge relief, the thought of getting trains and buses and organising bike transportation after 1100 miles in the saddle, really would take the icing off the highs of achievement (assuming we do achieve that is).
Finally a short note of thanks to all those that have sponsored so far - I've been really touched by the number of people that have contributed to the Just Giving site. Customers, friends and staff, your generosity has been unbelievable. Thank you.
http://www.justgiving.com/Giles-Bowes/
Tuesday 10 May 2011
Final Preparations
The table in our dining area has been christened 'Mission Control' by Larri. A crumpled muddled mess of Lycra shorts, painkillers, spare spokes, GPS systems, power leads, in fact all the tools of the next 2 week's trade. How the hell it's all going to fit into two modest Ortlieb panniers God only knows..
Just returned from another physio session with Jim. He's trying hard to help relieve the pain I'm getting in the neck as I crane forwards against my embarressingly curved spine - he seems to think he'll be able to striaghten it right out if I keep up the treatment after the run. Time will tell.
Picked up two spare spokes today, I'll tape them to the frame just in case. I already have two spare inner tubes, brake and gear cable and the smallest puncture repair kit I've ever seen. Hopefully these things won't actually be required, but sods law says if I don't take them something will go wrong in the wilds of the Scottish Highlands.
I also purchased a ludicrously expensive pair of Clarks casual shoes - chosen only because they were the lightest shoe in the shop. Colour, style, sole - irrelevant. Everything is about weight and keeping it down if we are going to make total daily 4000 feet climbs without busting our boilers!
Russ sent through a summary of our trip in terms of daily miles. I studied the single sheet of A4 for a very long time and it has finally sunk in. We are really going to do this, baring disasters.
Can honestly say at last I'm beginning to look forward to the trip plus the weather for the first week doesn't look too bad either....
Just returned from another physio session with Jim. He's trying hard to help relieve the pain I'm getting in the neck as I crane forwards against my embarressingly curved spine - he seems to think he'll be able to striaghten it right out if I keep up the treatment after the run. Time will tell.
Picked up two spare spokes today, I'll tape them to the frame just in case. I already have two spare inner tubes, brake and gear cable and the smallest puncture repair kit I've ever seen. Hopefully these things won't actually be required, but sods law says if I don't take them something will go wrong in the wilds of the Scottish Highlands.
I also purchased a ludicrously expensive pair of Clarks casual shoes - chosen only because they were the lightest shoe in the shop. Colour, style, sole - irrelevant. Everything is about weight and keeping it down if we are going to make total daily 4000 feet climbs without busting our boilers!
Russ sent through a summary of our trip in terms of daily miles. I studied the single sheet of A4 for a very long time and it has finally sunk in. We are really going to do this, baring disasters.
Can honestly say at last I'm beginning to look forward to the trip plus the weather for the first week doesn't look too bad either....
Sunday 8 May 2011
The Real Work
Starts soon.
Bike was serviced last week, new, more robust tyres fitted and a number of other small mods made. Am now juggling exactly what to take, the key being weight and keeping it down.
Took a small ride out this afternoon to make sure everything was OK, and it was.
To be honest I just want to get started now...
Bike was serviced last week, new, more robust tyres fitted and a number of other small mods made. Am now juggling exactly what to take, the key being weight and keeping it down.
Took a small ride out this afternoon to make sure everything was OK, and it was.
To be honest I just want to get started now...
Monday 25 April 2011
For those interested, here are details of this weekend's exertions.
http://connect.garmin.com/activity/81579691
http://connect.garmin.com/activity/81579666
http://connect.garmin.com/activity/81579631
http://connect.garmin.com/activity/81579691
http://connect.garmin.com/activity/81579666
http://connect.garmin.com/activity/81579631
About time I started this I guess.
Now only 2 more training weekends left until we depart for Lands End and begin what still seems like 14 days of sheer hell. Nevertheless I'm determined to enjoy what will be my first 2 full weeks away from the business since I got involved with Pete and Concept some 11 years ago.
This extended weekend has seen me cover almost 150 miles across three runs. Thanks to the Royal Wedding and a further Bank Holiday there's another 4 training days ahead, after which I'm just leaving things to fate. Shheesh if I'm not ready now I never will be!
Still much to be sorted - the Scottish routes for one, plus I have a ton of cycle gear to get sussed. More to follow.
I promise to try and keep this Blog reasonably updated prior to leaving (once we are actually doing the trip, it shouldn't be a problem because what the hell else will there be to do once the days exertions have been completed?)
So now to bed, a bit tired but pleased to report that my recovery rate is exactly as I hoped it would be by this stage of my training schedule.
Oh and by the way, anyone that hasn't dropped a tenner into the sponsorship page, really should do - you'll get your money's worth of Bowes blood sweat and tears...I promise!
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