Well, we made the first part in one piece.

I think my main concern before the Scotland bit will have to be to buy, beg, borrow, bike-hire or burgle a faster bike. Trouble is, I don't think I'm likely to want to do this again, so I don't want to spend the £600 plus required for a road bike or tourer. Any suggestions, offers, would be welcome.

A large number of very generous people have contributed- thank you all very much. Though I do have to say I'm a bit disappointed about the number of people in my office who didn't contribute, despite having worked with me for over 10 years in many cases.


May is an excellent time to do this. The weather is as likely to be good as you can get, the roads are not too full of holidaymakers, and the countryside is spectacular.

In some ways, my main memory is of the pungent smell of wild garlic. The picture of the top is of a particularly smelly bit, so much so that you can just about smell it from the photo.

Other comments.
1. The CTC routes are useful, as a start, anyway. Distances (average 70 miles per day) however would tend to be excessive for any except hard core cyclists. Don't forget that they tend to be obsessed with speed, and it may be possible and advisable to find quieter roads. Try the NCN network, too. Give yourself time to enjoy the scenery.
2. Having a support vehicle is extremely useful. It would have been very much harder if we had had to carry all our gear. Also, when I had the breakdown with the chain coming off, it would have been very difficult to work out what to do if we hadn't. Very many thanks indeed to John and Maggie for their literally invaluable efforts on this.
3. Thanks to Norman for being so conscientious in continuing with the support when he wasn't able to cycle, and generally for being easy-going and organised.
4. Thanks very much to all the people who put us up en route.
5. We did quite a lot of training beforehand, but we should have done a week-end or longer to test the whole system.
6. This blog was quite difficult to get on to the internet (to say nothing of trying to write it when exhausted at the end of a long day). I've mentioned that the countryside is short of shops, banks, mobile phone signals, bike shops, things open at the weekend, etc. It's also short of fast broadband connections.
7. We met with a lot of kindness from many people. Thank you all very much.

Day 12: Sedburgh to Carlisle

Again a very long steep slog out of town, but eventually we find ourselves on a delightful small road going past Shap, parallel to the M6 and the A6. Weather again is gorgeous, though I have to admit my legs are getting pretty tired.
We eventually make it to Carlisle, relieved that we weren’t trying to get here three days ago. End of part one (England). Back for part 2 (Scotland) in September.

Day 11: Slaidburn to Sedburgh

SEDBURGH CHURCHYARD WITH TRAMP

With Maggie now here to do the logistics (thank you very much, Maggie), Norman decides that he is sufficiently recovered to try cycling again. The day starts off, as we are coming to expect, with a long slog of a climb. At one point, we seem to have reached the top leading to a plateau, but Kate, who knows the area, is suspiciously quiet when I suggest this. It turns out to be merely the top. We go whizzing down, and then have to climb up the next lot. I’m getting to hate the downhill bits of hills almost as much as the uphill bits: just wasteful really. Later, the declivities get a bit better designed, and can be dealt with by swooping. We meet up with Liz and Hugh (in-laws) about half way along.
The days is absolutely beautiful, warm and sunny, everything bursting out all over. All the meadows are full of buttercups, so dense that they might almost be a crop. It’s been like this all the way up. It’s such a wonderful day that we decide to take a scenic detour up a little valley: tomorrow is a relatively short day, and we should be able to make up. Lambs are everywhere, in some cases in the middle of the road. Also some calves and foals, some so new that they are still unsteady on their feet. I’m beginning to sound a bit Fotherington-Thomas here, I know. When we pass flat areas of the valley, the weather has enticed everyone to strip off and sunbathe or play football.
Appleby is absolutely full of horses (it’s the start of the Horse Fair Week), as well as police, more police, RSPCA inspectors, travellers and their caravans. Caravans, some traditional and horsedrawn like covered wagons, some modern and expensive, and some in between, as far as the eye can see. Horses of all shapes and sizes on the road, and by the roadside. More dangerously groups of young travellers are taking their little jogging carts (?)/ sulkies (?) along the roads, and even racing despite the fact that there are cars on the road at the same time.
Norman seems to have made it through successfully.

Day 10: Leigh to Slaidburn

DOUGAL AND NORMAN




NORMAN, KATE, DOUGAL



KATE (SISTER IN LAW)

My sister-in-law Kate joins us today. As a redhead, she’s in even worse case for sunburn than I am, and requires if anything more covering up than I do. It is good to have the company.
I haven’t got stiff at all, but I have got tired! I’m finding that I’m getting fitter each day, but that the increase in fitness is being balanced by the cumulative fatigue from unrelieved exertion day after day.
The direction finder works well until about lunchtime, when it seems to get a bit tired, and the direction arrow disappears. At one stage, anyway, it directs us round in a circle. I’m fascinated by English place names: we go through Whalley, and Great Mitton, into the Trough of Bolan. Gorgeous scenery, though again extremely hilly. On either side of the road, we see grouse, pheasants and partridges. Also a huge hare, with black ears.
Maggie (Norman’s sister, and our new support driver) is waiting for us at Slaidburn.

Day 9: Nantwich to Leigh

Day 9: Nantwich to Leigh (I’ve stopped quoting distances, as they’re mostly guesswork)
I’m still wearing cycling shorts and jog pants, and even then I seem to be getting sunburnt through them. Since there are no secure pockets in the jog pants, I’m keeping money in the cycling shorts, which means that I have to undo the top layer to get money out. This tends to provoke some startled reactions in shops when I come to pay.
It’s a long day, pedalling along on my own, but I’m surprisingly un-bored. Just putting one foot in front of the other seems to keep my mind occupied. It’s also a very good day, and the countryside is beautiful. Also, this is the first day in which the wind isn’t in our faces. We signed up to the South to North route on the basis that the prevailing wind would be behind us, so it’s about time! We really have been lucky with the weather- only two days with rain. The route goes along a toll road, with tolls of 27p and 51p. How do they manage to make a commercial proposition of this? Unfortunately I don’t think to get my camera out in time.
As I’m watering the hedge out of sight of the passing cars, a double decker bus goes passed. To my horror they spot me and start waving. I’m tempted to wave back, but a moment’s reflection convinces me that neither of the possible ways of doing this would be a good plan.
As we arrive in Salford, the shocking news is starting to come in of the gunman’s rampage in Cumbria.

Day 8: Bridge to Nantwich (42 miles)

Another rainy day, but I eventually persuaded myself that it was getting lighter. I managed to get through to Hugh, to arrange to meet half-way or thereabouts.

The weather clears up and then sets in again. What I call efficient rain- doesn’t waste time falling noisily or blowing into your face- just gets you wet.

Eventually, round a corner, and we meet Liz and Hugh Frost (in-laws), both looking very well. Nothing around to provide a meal. I’ve been astonished at how rural the country is. Looking at the map, there are apparently small settlements at every corner, but there’s nothing there- perhaps one house, or two, or even none at all. Pubs are few and far between, and shops are almost unheard-off. Garages are 30 miles away, and often not open. And as for cash points. Credit cards are not accepted as often as not- even cheques are preferable.

We go back to Ellsmere, and they buy me a lunch, which is most generous. I go into the Gents, and realise that I could use the hand-dryer to dry my trousers, which looked a bit odd.

We spend the night a Bram and Jane’s, who turn out to be keen and vastly experienced cyclists, who are doing the route but in sections, but have also cycled all over the continent, and provide us with loads of helpful advice!

DAY 7: Sollers Barn to Bridge (35 miles)

A frustrating morning to start with. By 10 am we have got no replies from the bike shop. The landlady suggests that the other people in residence are expecting a cycle firm to deliver a map for their weekend, so when a van arrives we leap out and ask the driver if he can recommend a bike shop that would be open. I can do that nae bother he says- just take it up to our premises in Ludlow. And he does. Seems a nice place for a cycling holiday. Suddenly a better day!

It starts off warm and sunny, but gets cooler and overcast. Pleasant cycling weather- I just meander along enjoying the view. I’m working from a couple of pages torn out of the road map, so I’m back to asking directions. I find myself stuck on a road with no directions, no distances and no road numbers. What’s the next habitation along this road I ask a passing ancient. He looks a bit startled, as well he might, but eventually suggests it’s Hoptonheath. Back in business.

Eventually I reach the Youth Hostel, where the Warden could possibly be more welcoming, even though Norman was wearing the T-shirt. After dinner, we went down to the pub, where there was a singing evening- some of the performers were quite good. We get into conversation, and Norman starts telling a pair of total strangers about his injury.

DAY 6: St Briavels to Sollers Barn, Leominster.

COWS LYING DOWN. MEANS SOMETHING,I KNOW (BUT WHAT?)


DISASTER DAY 2. I set off on my own about 9.15. It was sunny and quite warm though with a coolish breeze. Norman has very kindly lent me his direction finder and we make quite good progress. It’s quite an impressive little gadget. I’m still a bit tired from yesterday but we don’t have so far to go. Also, while it’s not so much fun not having the company, at least I don’t have feel guilty about holding Norman up. Also, while it would be an exaggeration, ever, to describe a saddle as comfortable, it at least it doesn’t seem to be getting any worse.

Maggie is taking John back after his stint as support. Thank you very much John for your conscientiousness.

I’m getting near our lunch time meeting when- kerrang! Oh, just the chain come off: I can do that nae bother. But when I try to sort this out, it’s got wedged on the inside of the wheel, and no amount of work on my part will move it. I call up Norman, who’s beginning to wonder whether I’ve got lost again, and we agree that nothing can be done without the right tools. What we need is a bicycle shop. And are there any open on a Bank Holiday Sunday? Obviously not.

We decide to head to tonight’s B & B and get it fixed tomorrow.

We go out to a pub for an evening meal, and everyone is most sympathetic. The landlord even goes and looks up the details of the best bike shop on the internet.

Street to St Briavels (long way, including detours)

DISASTER DAY. We had been feeling pretty pleased with ourselves, if a little chary about the longer day today, but of course fate is always waiting round the corner with a sock full of wet cement.

Norman is looking uncharacteristically glum when I come down for breakfast. It soon comes out that he has got an injury which means he probably can’t cycle. We go down to the local medical centre to get an informed opinion before we decide what do next, but in the event they are closed until after the weekend. We agree that I shall go on on my own for the day, and John and
Norman go looking for an A and E department in Bristol. Norman kindly writes down the points on the route for me.

To add to everything else, it’s a miserable day, coldish, windy and rainy.

Past Wells, I start to climb up along the Old Bristol Road into the Mendips. It is now so misty that visibility is down below 50 metres. The climb is very steep, and seems to go on for ever. Also the Tour de Wessex are coming in the other direction. Some of the oncoming cyclists are complete lunatics: on a narrow public road in wet weather, they are passing 3 abreast on blind corners.

In retrospect, I think that I should have bought an OS map, for the day, but the upshot of trying to navigate using a road map means that I get lot more than once. They got rid of the road signs to frustrate German invaders, or turned them round , and the locals have not felt the necessity to put them back. This means of course that John and Norman are waiting a long time to met me at the waiting point.

Next stage is the cycle across the Severn Bridge, which is really quite impressive. We agree that they will go on to meet Maggie at St Briavels, and I shall just keep pedalling until I get there, which I do, around 9 pm, as the light will soon be starting to go. Norman’s sister Maggie is waiting for us at the hospital. The Youth Hotel is actually a castle, with walls 10 feet thick, and we are put into what they call the Oubliette room, obviously by someone who didn’t know a lot about castles. Maggie, Norman and John very kindly buy a meal from the pub.

We decide that the plan is that I shall go on, with Norman offering support as required. It’s been a very long day and I’m exhausted, but feeling pretty good on the whole. I promise myself that I will never make smart comments about Norman’s direction finder again. I’ve even fallen off the bike; it’s been that sort of day.

Honiton to Street (48 miles)

We drove back to Honiton, located our small piece of wood, and set off again. Again the weather was bright and sunny, with a cooling breeze. Delightful cycling weather, and the verges bursting with wild flowers. the road is only moderately hilly for most parts except when we find ourselves on a farm road, with a slope of about 1 in 5, and which goes on for about half a mile.

We are navigating by the navigating system. This seems to be reasonably well functioning, but unfortunately it tends not to give you a decision on the next stage until you are slightly past. So, at each junction or potential turn-off this involves either

a) charging ahead in the most likely direction and hoping for the best,, Nine times out of ten this works, but on the tenth, we have to go back to the turn-off and start again. The way of avoiding this is for

b) Norman to stop at each junction and wait the rest of the party, ie me. He then find a bit of hedge to give some shade, and wakes up the screen.


The new saddle seems to be working adequately. I stop at a small village called Rawridge, and take a photo of the sign.

We finally reach Street hostel, for some reason quite exhausted. There had been talk of doing some extra for tomorrow, but somehow this gets forgotten. The place is full of cycling enthusiasts, doing the Tour de Wessex. 3 days each of over 100 miles a day. Funny people, cyclists.

A very nice thing happens to us at the Hostel. A fellow guest sees John’s T-shirt, and enquires: She is sufficiently impressed, to volunteer a donation!.

DIVER'S LOG - DAY THREE

JO, DOUGAL, NORMAN



WHO STOLE NORMAN'S SCONE?



DEMMY THE DIVER

Okehampton to Honiton

Towards the end of yesterday’s journey, there was a loud twang, and it turned out that one of the springs on my saddle had broken. If the other spring broke, I could envisage a sharp piece of metal coming through the saddle, so one of our first actions was obviously to get this fixed. I find that most bike shops are very friendly, and the one in Crediton was no exception. As well as producing a new saddle, and fixing my pedals, they were able to suggest a less hilly route to Tiverton.

We asked Clifford and Jo to join us for this stage, but unfortunately Clifford couldn’t make it as he was working. Thanks to them, we have now each had a plastic bath frogman toy attached to our bicycle. If you wind it up and let go the string, it will pedal like mad, and put a boost of at least 10 mph on our speed, though not for very long. It was a beautiful day, still sunny but not quite so warm.

The Devon countryside was not so hilly as Cornwall, so we were quite relieved. I predicted that after Days 1-3, with fatigue piling up from the previous days, Day 4 was the day that things would start to look up, and that seemed to be about right. Scenery was spectacular- long rolling hills when you could manage to look over the deep lanes.

John reckoned that he had managed to fix the direction finder, so Norman took it out with us again to navigate from. I kept my road map close to hand though.

We carried on in the usual way- me sometimes leading, but more often Norman haring on ahead and waiting for me to catch up. I reckon that left to his own devices Norman would probably be in Carlisle by now. John was waiting for us in a layby outside Honiton, We marked our spot with a small piece of wood and drove down to Exmouth to stay with Bill and Diana.