More than just a ride

Well, if I don't see another 25% sign for a while, I won't mind!

Today has been extraordinary! Far more than just the challenge that had taken over my head. And completely unexpected emotion-wise.

I set off at 6.45am. I was in my finest trundle mode as I headed around to start Kirkstone Pass. It was cool and still as promised. My favourite part of the hill was hitting the 17% sign and finding a red squirrel right next to it on the wall cheering me on. It clung to a tree for a time looking at me with its fist thumping the air. I haven't seen one for a long time. What a great start!

There was zero visibility at the col so I stopped for a photo at the top looking back at the pub and headed on down to the hut at Hartsop for a water refill, stopping here for my blip photo as I dipped under the clouds. I'd realised at home that the huts were perfectly placed so I'd only ever need one bottle of water until the last stretch. That worked out well, carrying almost a kilo less up every hill.

I had an enjoyable flat section up to Ullswater although my legs were wondering what had hit them so early in a ride! 

The next incline took me up to the A66 and west to Keswick. The top third of the hills were shrouded in mist and they felt majestic as I cycled on by the northern peaks.

It was a good feeling to get on the quieter roads again as I turned down Borrowdale. It hit me here how many memories this trip was evoking.  Before beginning the Honister climb, I stopped at the hut at Rosthwaite and had a quick chat with a couple of blokes hoping the sky was going to clear. I'd remembered the steep start from a cycling hut-to-hut trip years ago with Liz, but also the fact we sang much of the way up so I knew it wasn't going to last. It did go on a touch longer than I remembered before easing off. And a view from the top too. Just!

Then, what an amazing descent! Probably the best one of the outing as you could see far enough ahead to pick up some speed without hitting a hairpin and the gradient was just right.  

Buttermere was such a beautiful polished mirror, it took my breath away. Adding to my photo collection, I headed on to my lunch stop in the village. It was here that I met Mike Kyle, the farmer who owned the cafe. Well, what a lovely man! One of those people you just want to chat to because of the warmth they emit. He clearly wanted to share stories too and told me that he'd grown up in Yorkshire, taking me round the side of the cafe to his yellow pickup truck. Here he went in the glove compartment and fished out some old pictures of him in his vintage car outside the school he went to near Gargrave. He told me about how he never wore a jam jar (helmet!) But, once his handlebars broke so he fixed them by using a stick instead. Which broke! Caught in his spokes and sent him flying ...to hospital. He lived to tell the tale and that was his justification for not needing them. Barry Beans then arrived, much to Mike's pleasure; you could see it in his eyes. So I was introduced to him too before making it into the cafe for lunch. 

He was waiting for me when I got outside and put his hand back on my shoulder again with a squeeze. He told me about cycle rides down Coverdale and to Richmond. I think we both enjoyed sharing those feelings of a special place.  

I stopped a bit too long but it was worth it for that little connection with someone special. Newlands Pass next. Tough but acceptable. Arriving at Braithwaite was decision time. Right for shorter, flatter return. Or, committing to the full route by heading up Whinlatter. Thankfully, it was a no brainer; my legs were getting into the swing of things. 

But I was hungry again by the time I reached the top of the hill. I'd only planned a water refill here but decided flapjack was a worthwhile investment in calories.

A delightful descent around to Ennerdale and a few memories from a couple of C2C trips, one on my own and another with Rich & Dave. 

I'd found a cafe at Ennerdale Bridge which was fantastic. Following another baked potato and a caffeine hit, it was off for the last 30 miles. My body was feeling it a bit but my legs were OK. Once the caffeine kicked in and I'd taken a few deep breaths, I started singing. 

All was well!

Another hill and the sun was starting to get through for the first time in the day. I could see the sea! Blue sky too which was heading my way. It warmed up but never too much and I took it steady towards Hardknott, hoping I might cycle some of it but, in any case, with a newly purchased pair of covers for my shoe cleats in case I needed to walk the lot. 

Amazingly, my legs were good to go & I actually managed to get up two-thirds of the hill. I came to a standstill on the last set of hairpins, just round the first corner. With an encouraging cheer from a guy in a car that was following me up, I did feel chuffed to bits! I got off and walked to the flatter section and cycled over the summit which wasn't too far away. 

Had I overdone it for Wrynose? Nope, although that felt hard. 

I stopped on the way down both of the last two descents for photos but also to let my rims cool off. The last thing I wanted now was a puncture. There is no room for picking up speed and I think I've pretty much used an entire set of brake blocks (glad they were new!) 

Just before the final turn, Mrs Harryman's came into view. A young lad stood in the road instructing me to stop as the Herdies were on their way to the next field. I took the opportunity for my last few photos. It was middle school when we stayed here with mum and dad. A farm B&b. They served hot grapefruit for breakfast and fantastic hearty meals in the evening. We've been back since with Rich and mum and dad for one of my birthdays too. Mrs Harryman was still there then, but not anymore. 

When I turned left for the last hill, I had a few surprise emotional tears as I realised how much more of an experience this 100 or so miles has been.

They didn't last long though as I discovered one last 25% sign to get past. But I wasn't being stopped now! 

Onwards! 

Alongside the beauty of Blea Tarn with the Langdales in the background and a final joyous flat stint back to the hut in magnificent evening light.

 I think I arrived back around 7.30 (nope, 8pm!) Quite a day out! I'm now tired but determined to write up my day so I don't forget the memories and feelings. 




For my record of memories rekindled.  You can stop now if you managed to get this far.  You'll get bored with these.  It's been one huge trip down memory lane, finding something that came back to me in every corner of the Lakes...

- Little corners for wild camping in the van
- Hoping to camp in the cinema one cold November birthday camping trip
- Car turned over in snow one Christmas (not ours)
- Tuna crunch sandwich treat from the corner bakery in Keswick
- Hiding out in George Fisher in the inevitable rain 
- Holding hands under the Bowder Stone & night climbing with head torches from the hut there.
- Climbing at Shepherds Crag and being served a pint of milk in a bottle with a slice of cake.
- Climbing on Troutdale Pinnacle
- Honeymoon at The Borrowdale Hotel and the two biggest scuffs eating cream tea on the lawn (that's us two!)
- Blencathra with dad a couple of years ago
- The man who fell on his knees at the 'top' of Skiddaw, praising the ground & shouting Skiddaaaaaaawwww! Only to find he was on the wrong summit.
- A cafe treat with Rich and Liz at the quaint slate bridge at Grange in beautiful sunshine sitting outside
- Winter hut meets in Patterdale and the trip when everyone on the meet told me it was an hour later than it was (always loved my sleep and famed for going to bed first, getting up last, but still managing to be ready before everyone else in the morning!)
- Mrs Harryman's and the drooping lead glass windows
- Family outing to Blea Tarn on dad's 70th

Will probably add to these!
And finally, the ride itself.  I reckon this will be imprinted in my memory for a long time.