Sometime between laughs over the breakfast and discussions of our day ahead, the rain actually stopped and it looked like it could be a decent day. We took off carrying the bare minimum that we would need for the next 30 hours or so. Mark, the model planner/Project Manager, was a bit more weighed down with the extras- first aid kit, maps, phone, camera, bike lube, toolkits, etc. (this additional weight in his pack certainly/unfortunately didn’t slow him down on the hills!).
Starting at the sea on the west coast, we began our journey east with a ‘brilliant’ tailwind pushing us along. The tailwind was so strong that at one point I actually made the comment that I felt like we were cheating. The “cheating” feeling quickly subsided when we approached our first major hill- ~16% grade, steep, long, and painful. Completely humbled by the hill, I vowed: #1 to train more, and #2 to get more gears for my bike. We all survived the slow trudge through the hills along with some off-road trekking on mud paths.
At 1:00 p.m. we arrived at our “early morning break” destination. Realizing that we were a bit behind schedule, we stopped for a stretch and a quick lunch. Unfortunately, the nice weather passed and we left the cozy pub to enter the cold rain storm. The next couple of hours were somewhat of a chilly blur. Conversation waned and we simply focused on the road in front of us and on surviving the hills. With a 10-mile climb left between us and warmth and shelter, we stopped for one last quick break. I attempted to dry my gloves on a hand dryer, ate my PB&J, turned the blinking light on my bike and set out for the final miles in the dark. I finally saw Mark stop at the top of the hill ahead of me and I prayed that we had actually made it. There aren’t many feelings better than spotting your destination after 7 hours in the saddle. Seeing the blinking lights of Tan Hill, the “highest pub in England” (at a whopping 527 M!), was euphoric. Mark, Matt & I entered the pub to find a spirited group drinking a few pints, petting the pub dogs, and enjoying the warm fire. Although the setting looked ideal, my first priority was taking a warm bath to wash the mud off and recover my severely frost bitten feet. An hour later, we were all sitting by the fire and sharing stories of our ride. The pub owner soon brought a chalkboard out with the evening’s menu. To stick with my atypical food consumption, I ordered Roast Beef Yorkshire Pudding- a pastry filled with roast beef, gravy, peas and topped with french fries. It tasted phenomenal (as anything would after burning ~10k calories in a day!). We lucked out again in the entertainment category as the pub was hosting an Open Mic Night out in the barn. We spent the next few hours listening to a heartbroken woman belting her dismay, an up and coming pre-teen rock star, and a 60-something covering a damn good version of David Gray and Maroon 5. It was pretty much an ideal evening to relax, have a few lagers, and hang out with Mark and Matt.
Considering that it is January and I’m in England, I was quite surprised to hear the Saturday morning forecaster state that it would be a sunny day with no rain (he sounded a bit skeptical himself). With the blissful image of a dry day (and SUN), I instantly forgot about dehydration, chafing, or soreness and got dressed for day 2 of the journey. The morning was uneventful- Matt and Mark enjoyed the second morning of a Full English breakfast. I learned my lesson, listened a bit more carefully and helped myself to toast and cereal in lieu of the meat-heavy meal. It turns out the weather forecast was absolutely spot on, and we had quite possibly the best winter day I’ve experienced in England. We set out in the vast open countryside with absolutely nothing in the surrounding area. The pavement was ideal for cycling, the sky was blue and our spirits were high.
The first delay of the day occurred when we waited for a well trained dog to herd hundreds of sheep out of the road. At that moment I realized how thankful I was to have the opportunity to live in England. The second delay of the day was my flight out of the saddle onto a nice soft pile of mud! It was not exactly clear if it was bike or user error, but somehow I went from climbing out of the saddle to lying on the hillside with the chain off my bike. From what I hear from Mark it was a pretty sweet fall to witness from behind! No harm, no injuries, and we continued on our way to reach our destination over 150 miles away from where we had started. ‘Knackered’, we arrived in Sunderland greeted by the Bike Bus who took us back to our car on the other side of the country. The Walney to Wear ride was one of the best weekends that I’ve had since arriving in the UK. It is exactly the type of adventure that I was hoping for when I decided to move over here. I am thankful that I found Matt and Mark who are adventurous, athletic, optimistic and enjoy the same passion as I do. I’m looking forward to our upcoming travels: Polka dot Challenge, Etape Du Dales, and Tour of Flanders…
