Day 08 to Day 09

Day 08 – a not very easy Kirkby Stephen to Clitheroe (by Stuart)

Last night was the last chance where we had the pleasure of a proper bed, before this ride is over anyway. We had a great time in Kirkby Stephen at Ken and Barbara's B&B, and had the chance to enjoy a curry, and a wondrous draft beer in the pub! The problem with Scotland is it's very difficult to get a decent draft beer, whereas in England, there are plenty of real ale pubs, so it was a relief to finally whet our appetites with good beer.

Both Alex and I took the opportunity this morning to fuel up on a full English breakfast, one of the delights of B&B's. Today was going to be a tough ride so we would need the food, but also today marked a few milestones. We have crossed the half way mark in terms of mileage, but would also be the first day where we would have visitors!

We were joined by Ruth and Russell (and their son Alisdair), my Father's sister and brother-in-law (I'm under pain of death to not use the 'a' and 'u' words!) They arrived early enough in the morning, and the plan was for Russell to ride with us, whilst Ruth would follow with Alisdair in their van accompanying Mum and Dad in theirs.

After several worried text messages the day before, we are sure that Russell is relieved that he wouldn't be left behind by Alex and I, but more the opposite. While we are younger and arguably fitter, we have 500 miles behind us so are a lot more tired. Russell has no need to worry about us riding quickly, so in fact he had the task of 'domestique', a term applied to professional cycling where a rider provides the work throughout the day, and those behind have an easier ride for the finish. We would need it. Still I'm of the opinion (at the end of the day), that Russell might have picked an easier day, as this one turned out to be the most strenuous day yet.

Day 08 depart - but there are three of them!

So it is only a 54 mile ride today. Easy right? No. The route took us out of Kirkby Stephen and up the valley following the route of the Settle and Carlisle Railway. Almost straight away Russell was introduced to undulations, or should I say updulations, that much hated word that Alex and I invented. The route took us towards Garsdale Head and on to Hawes, and then turning off (just before Hawes), to follow the B6255 uphill to the Ribblehead Viaduct.

The Ribblehead Viaduct - I was hoping to see a train on it, but alas it was not to be

Nearby Ruth and Alisdair stand poised with the cameras waiting for us to arrive

Lo and behold... here they are!

The cycling, despite being very hilly, wasn't that bad for the first half of the day. The climbs up to the Ribblehead Viaduct were long, but mercifully not that steep. We arrived at the pub by the viaduct where we all agreed to meet for a break. This was supposed to be the place of fabled pork and black pudding pies, but alas we were all dismayed to find they didn't have any (despite it being a bank holiday weekend). We were also dismayed that they wouldn't agree to serve food, even though it was not that long before noon.

Alisdair deduces that the weather is.... sunny!

After a tea and a thumbs down we left, to enjoy a fast descent down to Ingleton. From there it was across to High Bentham, and ascend the long and relentless climb up on to the moor at a height of 427 meters. The road gave no chance for a break, being steep right from the beginning, and every time you had a chance to get some sort of rhythm on the gentler bits, the gradient would ramp up again and again.

Russell was starting to tire, as he began to drop behind as we approached the top, which rather cruelly is where the road is steepest. We met up with the vans at the top for a hot chocolate and cake break. We were within 15 miles of our destination, but we still had three more tough climbs, so it would not be an enjoyable finish.

We all got to enjoy the first descent, a technical single track road with plenty of twists and turns, but I still managed to knock up a top speed of 43mph. On the way up the penultimate hill just after Slaidburn on the B6478, a 16% goit, we had the pleasure of being shouted at by an impatient road user, who promptly was offered three sets of fingers and orders to foxtrot oscar! Dropping down the other side into Newton, the road turns left and launches us at the feet of the final whopper which rises up near to Bradford Fell, a long way from where it started, before descending towards Clitheroe. Russell sadly was dropping back, but managed to get to the top where Alex and I were waiting. From this point on it was downhill all the way to Clitheroe.

Still we didn't get to enjoy the descent all the way as we had to pay attention and pull off half way down near Waddington near to this evenings campsite. You could imagine our despair if we had got carried away and descended all the way down, only to climb two miles back up again to get back to the campsite!

The trio finally arrives at the campsite

With the ride over we had the chance to enjoy a pub meal with our extended family, and joy of joys, a pint of draft Timothy Taylor Landlord, which in our opinion is possibly the worlds best beer! After bidding farewell to Ruth, Russell and Alisdair (who have to drive back that night), we are now winding down in the van. I would have thought that the 107 mile ride we did from Fort William to Luss was the most tiring overall, but I feel that today was the most strenuous. We still have some more big hills tomorrow, but I'm hoping that they will level off as we pass through the built up areas of Manchester and Liverpool (and that the weather isn't as bad as predicted).

Both Alex and I are tired, and the miles are certainly taking their toll. It was however a great pleasure to have some company today, as it certainly helped to keep the spirits up. There are plenty more people who will be joining us over the next few days and we will look forward to seeing all of you.

Thanks to Ruth, Russell and Alisdair for joining us today, we certainly appreciated it! :)

Cheers

Day 09 - It's grim down south, Clitheroe to Delamere (by Alex)

Today, day nine, we have been cycling south for the best part of 560 miles. We were staying under canvas, our first night in a 7 night stretch, in a place just north of Blackburn. After yesterdays intense day of riding¹, it seemed unlikely that we would be going fast today.

It started off well. The sun was shining, with not too much of a breeze. It was cold, but not overly so. Appropriate clothing was donned, and it was time to set off. We knew that the weather was likely to turn colder and possibly wetter later, so I wanted to set off as early as possible – in the end, this turned out to be about half eight².

Sunny for now

The first couple of miles were easy – they were all downhill. It didn't last long though³ before we were slogging back up hills that seemed no less fearsome than the brutes of the day before. Sure, the height gain may have been less, but the gradients were just as fearsome – rolling hills, how lovely! Just what the tired legs wanted first thing in the morning.

We were just on the fringes of Blackburn when we lost the sunshine, for the whole day as it turned out. We knew it was coming, but it was no less depressing. What was more depressing, though, was the discovery of something we have been incredibly lucky to avoid too much of. Headwinds.

We worked our way through the south-eastern fringes of Blackburn, into the moors to the south, with the wind steadily getting harder and the day steadily getting colder. The fierce hills of earlier in the day actually didn't seem all that bad in hindsight – we hadn't had much of a headwind to contend with.

The low point was probably the climb up from the south of Blackburn to a little place to called Tockholes. Steadily up slope against the wind is never a good thing, especially when you are exposed. It gets very depressing indeed when you are struggling to go faster than fifteen miles per hour whilst going downhill.

We slogged our way onwards, skirting around the edge of the moors whilst battling the headwind. Things began to improve after a hard ten miles of battling when we left the village of Belmont to start a steep one mile climb up and over to Rivington. With our change in direction, the headwind became a tailwind and we found ourselves in the odd situation of going faster⁴ uphill than we had been going downhill.

There followed a fun descent into the village of Rivington, where Mum and Dad waited to ensure we didn't overshoot the village hall, where tea and cake awaited in the extremely well received Rivington Village Tea Rooms⁵. Boy did we need the break!

Quick! Stop!!

Tea and cake (or death)

After a short break, Stuart and I made the extremely fortuitous decision to ditch our lighter tops in exchange for waterproofs, warm coverings for our shoes and warmer gloves. It was only a few miles⁶ to the built up area between Manchester and Liverpool where the more serious route finding could begin.

Then, somewhat predictable, it began to rain. We've gone the majority of Scotland⁷, all of Cumbria and Yorkshire without getting rained on, and as soon as we get to Manchester it rains.

Fortunately, though the next fifteen miles involved a lot of busy, urban riding. As a result of this they were largely flat and the buildings proved quite effective wind-blocks. Dodging car drivers who seemed intent on cutting us up, navigating busy streets that were completely unknown to us, all under constant rain. It all seemed quite new and exciting⁸!

Soon we were in Cheshire and suddenly everything looked different. What had happened to the hills? The mountains? It had taken some time, but we were back in flat country. Good news? Maybe not. By leaving the buildings behind, we had nothing to stop the wind. It was back to the same, familiar slog.

It came as somewhat of a relief when we came across the support crew, a few miles after leaving the built up areas behind us. By now, the rain had stopped, but with the piercing wind it was cold enough that Stuart and I decided to keep our waterproofs and thermals on. A brief stop for soup and a bread roll to recharge the batteries, and off we went for the final twenty miles.

The good news, or so it seemed to us as we set off, was that soon we would be swinging towards the west – most of the preceding miles had been (funnily enough) heading south. The wind, which had been pounding us from the south-east, would therefore be behind us for the run in to the campsite!

Yeah, right. Almost as soon as we turned, the wind died down. So much for a tailwind. Instead we had to grind out the last twenty miles, though at least the fearsome headwind had gone. Incidentally, so much for Cheshire being flat. Five miles out from the campsite we met the last big mile climb . The gradient wasn't too bad but after the best part of 630 miles it was most certainly not what the doctor had ordered.

We arrived at the site completely drained. The miles are certainly telling, the hills are unrelenting, the wind and the rain have found us. Welcome to England!

Insert beer here...

...and here

(Incidentally, my mobile phone charger turned out to be in an obvious place. Always is, but tired heads do not always make the best rational decisions.)

1 Stuart and I have cycled in the Alps. After cycling in the Yorkshire dales and the Forest of Bowland, they don't seem all that fearsome any more.

2 On a bank holiday Monday - these cycling types are crazy!

3 These things never do in the UK, with few exceptions. That's one definite advantage of the Alps.

4 Faster, not fast. We were now going at a crawl rather than a virtual standstill.

5 Home cooked cakes and a thoroughly deserved hot chocolate, accompanied with piano music played by a very friendly elderly gentleman who, though interested in talking to us, was as deaf as a post.

6 With a few ubiquitous tough climbs. Honestly, if it was flat, we wouldn't know what to do!

7 I'm going to ignore Dingwall and the brief shower north of Moffat. Artistic licence is a terrible thing.

8 We even had another mechanical – the constant pounding on rough roads shook the screws loose on the bracket that held Stuarts saddle bag to the saddle. All very exciting!