Daily entry

Day 3: Launceston to Sanford Peverall

| Zapfly

Total mileage: 59
Terrain: Hills – some tough hills

We were waylaid in the morning in the local cycle shop as the guys bought some gloves to help with the handlebar sores. The ride out of Launceston was a long, continual climb that certainly had us all in a sweat.

From here we passed into Devon and Dartmoor. Although we got slightly lost and ended up on an A road for a while, the day was most pleasant, albeit fairly hard cycling. The hills of Dartmoor were something I had worried about prior to the trip. As it turned out, they were indeed formidable but the views were stunning.

Lunch was in Crediton, after the most severe hill. I think we were all knackered. From here, we took the main road north towards Tiverton. Unfortunately, this is a road of virtually continuous climbing. When we made it to the crest of the hill, Pete and I cracked our bikes into top gear and cycled like made buggers. I managed to hit 37mph and Pete almost made 40mph.

From there on in to Tiverton, we all lost our mojo a little. After finding some supplies for the evening, we were directed along the Great Western Canal. This had been specifically updated to allow cyclists and pedestrians along it. It was stunning, with the setting sun to our left and the canal to our immediate right.

At the end of the track, some 8 miles from Tiverton, was Sanford Peverall camping ground, an extremely pleasant campsite, certainly better than the dodgy room in Launceston.

Day 2: Perran Porth to Launceston

| Zapfly

Total mileage: 57
Terrain: Hills – challenging

Another fantastic day of sunshine for us, which considering the crappy weather we had had the previous week, was a blessing. We made our way from Perran Porth, up and out of the coastal town and along the north coastline.

We stopped for lunch at Padstow, a really pretty seaside port, festooned with about a zillion holidaying tourists. We were warned in the fish and chip shop where we purchased our food to watch out for the seagulls, which tended to dive bomb people’s lunches, aiming to grab some tasty swag. As it turned out, this was handy advice as we saw other folk being hassled by the crafty birds.

After lunch, we wheeled our bikes down to the beach, via a series of step stairs. Unfortunately, this reset Mary’s bike computer to zero and did some damage to Pete’s as well. From the beach, we waiting patiently in line for the ferry to collect us and take us to the other side of the channel, to a small enclave called Rock.

The ride from the coast to Bodmin Moor was unremarkable. However, Bodmin Moor itself was incredible; definitely one of the highlights of the trip. There, we started a long decline that saw us almost all the way to the outskirts of Launceston. We bumped into a local cyclist who kindly escorted us to the town centre and helped us find digs for the night.

Launceston itself is not so bad but the hostel we stayed in was pretty rough, especially after the two lovely campsites we had stayed at the previous nights. That said, we had an enormous supper and the guys began their campaign to try and get me drunk each night.

Day 1: Lands End to Perran Porth

| Zapfly

Total mileage: 53
Terrain: Hills – very challenging

The first day of the cycle ride was quite challenging. We bought breakfast from the natty van with fresh produce pulled into the campsite. After gorging sufficiently, it was time for us to head down to Lands End for the obligatory photos and signing of the register. Alas, we had to wait until10am for the people who own the sign post to turn up, after which, our register signing mojo had been duly sapped as we were keen to get on our way.

The day was glorious and the sunshine ferocious. By the time we made it to St Ives for lunch, it was in the late twenties. As we were in Cornwall, it made sense for us to try the local delicacies of the region, namely a pasty. Fan-bloody-tastic!

Back on the road and we all plugged into our iPods to bliss out on some fine tunes. The landscape became ever more challenging as the north Cornish coastline undulated, dropped down dramatically to greet the sea, then rising sharply towards the heavens thereafter.

Mary had been concerned that Pete and I would zoom off, so she became the official pace setter for the journey, as well as the map reader. This turned out to be one of our finer decisions as both Pete and i are rubbish at orienteering.

Arriving in Devon

| Zapfly

Saturday, 26th July

Finally, we are off. I boarded the train from Paddington to Penzance. Two stations down the line, Pete and Mary joined the train in Taunton. I was still worried that my bike was far too heavy yet equally concerned that I did not have all the kit I needed with me. However, once we got off the train at Penzance, the warm afternoon sun and calm roads soothed my worries.

We ended up cycling about 12 miles to the camp site, where we were greeted by perhaps the most hospitable campsite owners in the UK. They cracked open a few beers and chatted away to us for a while. The setting was serene and incredibly quiet, which was great as we needed to get some sleep.

Prior to sleep, we headed out to get some grub. However, Lands End ain’t London and nothing was open, so we ended up having to carve slithers off from the picnic table and garnish them with some woodlice. Nice.

Only a few hours now…

| Zapfly

So, the night before the big adventure starts and I have to admit I have a sizeable dosage of the jitters. Not for any bad reason I just always get them before I embark on some new adventure. As far as endurance events go, this will be longer than any mountaineering or trekking campaign I have undertaken thus far.

The bags are all packed and even though I have ditched a load of stuff, I am not convinced that I am as lightweight as I should be. That said, carrying a few extra kilos might mean better preparation for any extreme moment we might encounter.

It would be great if anyone who reading these blog entries leaves a comment or two along the way as otherwise one feels disconnected to the rest of the world.

Anyway, off to sleep now, perchance to dream even (of cycling no doubt).

One day to go

| Zapfly

I would have to admit at this point in time, I am a little nervous – nervous in a good way but nervous nonetheless.

Tomorrow is the day I leave for Lands End. Pete and Mary are due to catch the ferry over from Guernsey this afternoon. For them, the reality and enormity of this adventure is even more immediate.

Strangely enough, the most poignant thing I am concerned with is not fitness or the route but weight. I have packed my bags and they were heavy. So, I ditched a load of stuff, repacked and guess what, they are still heavy! One of the most common things I have read from other cyclist’s blogs and books is that they wish they had taken less stuff. However, we are likely to see all types of weather along the way and the last thing you want to be is cold, wet or uncomfortable.

Having to wash kit pretty much every day to keep the latent weight down reminded me of my time in South America, whilst on an Operation Raleigh expedition. Though the day was far less complicated in terms of activities vying for one’s attention, it was the necessities that were first and foremost: Collecting wood, building a fire, cooking, sleeping and chores. Long evenings were spent entrenched about the campfire, regaling the collective with stories and jokes. Mercifully, there were no ‘Kum Ba Yah’ moments.

We hope to maintain this blog on a regular basis, provided Orange can get their act together and deliver my new mobile phone to me today. It has been fantastic not having a phone for a month but I think the poor bugger who was passed on my old mobile number will probably be thankful if I manage to get reconnected so people stop pestering him.

Stay in touch and keep reading!

Friday’s ride to oblivion

| Zapfly

After purchasing a few final additions for my cycle ride on Friday, I made my way to the Condor ferry terminal at St Peter Port terminal. Unfortunately, as the ferry was due to arrive at 18:20 in Weymouth, I knew I would have a fairly full on ride to make it by the time it got dark.

Things did not start well; the ferry was over an hour later departing. It had been due to rain all day Friday and to my great fortune, the weather had abated. Indeed, on the journey over to the mainland, the skies cleared and large swathes of blue were visible. This perked my spirits up as I realised that I would have about 2 hours of sunshine to cycle 50 miles. No problem on my road bike but how would the Thorn perform?

Matters became instantly more complicated when us cyclists were hemmed in by a ferry load of cars waiting to disembark. We had to wait almost 30 minutes until we were able to leave the boat. Precious time was slipping away and the evening light was already beginning to filter through the progressively more patchy sky.

I had prepared my route at Pete’s place and listed out a series of directions. Alas, I was not able to find the first marker and ended up having to follow the queuing line of traffic to exit Weymouth. Here, the cycle was in its element as I was able to jump most of the tailbacks.

It was at this juncture that the sneaking suspicion that the evening’s ride was not going to be as straightforward as I had hoped began to creep in. The landscape around Weymouth is quite spectacular and decidedly hilly. With the additional weight of the steel framed bike and the three panniers, the cruising speed was down from 25mph to a far more modest 12mph. I did some quick maths in my head and realised that I would not make it to Ottery St Mary until after dark. My original expectations were that I would arrive in Weymouth and be off the ferry by 6.30pm followed by a leisurely saunter to Ottery, arriving at around 9.30pm riding the coattails of sunshine for the day.

With the much reduced pace, my delayed arrival in Weymouth and the fact that I managed to get completely lost so early on, I estimated my time of arrival at closer to midnight. Thankfully I had some lights with me but they were small, city lights, to ensure that motorists could see me on well lit urban streets. They were really not up to the task of illuminating a jet black road as I ploughed through the night on the A35.

Another problem was that after just two hours, I had exhausted almost all of my 2litre water supply. Having originally believed that I would be cycling earlier in the day, I had concluded that I would be able to refill my water bottles at service stations en route. Regrettably, it became abundantly apparent that this would not be the case as each and every petrol station I cycled past was closed.

I had also not counted on the road being so perilous. Cars hurtled past me at 60mph, inches from my rear panniers, buffeting me with strong gusts of displaced wind in the process. With the ever dimming sky, I prayed that my pathetic lights were up to the task of forewarning these motorists of my presence.

The route I followed took in some very long hill climbs, which many cyclists are not fans of. With the additional weight and my inexperience of handing the bike, I wobbled precariously as I steadily scaled each hurdle.With all the weight hanging over the rear wheel, the front end tended to weaver frantically as I spun the pedals in 4th gear, averaging a speed of around 5-6mph.

Finally, after more than three hours of exertion, cycling through the undulating Devonshire landscape, with no light save for the modest pool afforded by my front LED, I stopped in mid ascent, exhausted. It felt like I was climbing Mount Olympus to speak with the gods. I lay down next to the road and drained what little water I had left. It was dark. The stillness of the evening was broken only momentarily by the infrequent, speeding cars that whirled past me. I was running on empty. I had no chocolate bars or water to consume or a mobile phone to contact Bryony with, to inform her where I was. Indeed, I had no real idea at that point where I lay. Determined to make the remaining journey as fast as possible, driven by the need to quench my insatiable thirst, I pressed on after a 15 minute rest.

Finally, with an exultant whoop, I pulled in to Honiton and located a phone booth to call Bryony. After an emotional conversation (it was 12.30am I and was in fact 3 hours late), she said she would drive over to collect me. I asked a local policeman where I could acquire some water and he took me back to the Honiton police station where I drank to my heart’s desire.

It was quite an adventure; exhilarating, exhausting, educational. I realise that I am capable on my road bike, unencumbered by the weight of the panniers. However, my cycle ride across the UK was going to take more effort than I had first thought. Bizarre as it sounds, one of the reasons I was keen to undertake such a physical test was to push me well out of my comfort zone. This cycle ride informed me that I would indeed be pushed hard but that the reward afterwards would be far more than I had first thought.

Only through a great challenge can one achieve a great victory.

Google map of today’s cycle route

Arrival of the third Thorn

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After taking the bikes out for a spin, we settled down for some decent pub chow

Last Thursday I journeyed over to Guernsey to collect my new Thorn touring bike. The first thing I was struck by was the sheer size and weight of the bike. My Specialized road bike is a lightweight speed machine. I can lift it with two fingers and have hit 50mph on it. Although I may have a backpack on most of the time I am cycling in London, the bike is awesome out on the open road. 50 miles in 2 hours is well within the realm of possibility.

The Thorn on the other hand, laden with two rear panniers full of my possessions and a bar-bag is a completely different proposition. The steel frame is so much heavier and less responsive than my carbon / aluminium Specialized. Tackling hills is all together a completely different affair.

Pete and I took the bikes out for a spin on Friday night. Although we only clocked up about 7 miles, I was impressed by the sheer workmanship of the Thorn. Everything felt just so, mechanically pleasing. Although much lower geared than my Specialized, it was very comfortable on the winding Guernsey roads.

We spent most of the rest of Thursday customising the bike, adding all the additional kit I had brought over and testing the brakes, which are incredibly squeaky!