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.
Saturday, 21 May 2011
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…
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