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..