Shed-loads

Well, I can tell you, walking up Fleet Moss is a pickle harder than pedalling up it!

Oh, where to start? 
Sometimes you have such incredible luck, it's hard to comprehend. 

I had a quick google before I left to see whether there was a recommended cycle cafe in Hawes. The pub I normally go to serves a mean jacket but the coffee's naff and food isn't served until 12. 

Bonanza! A cycle shop/cafe just round the corner with gluten free in capital letters.

So, with a tailwind, I set off at 8. 

All was going well until I braked coming into Kettlewell and heard a strange noise. I couldn't see anything so carried on. Approaching the absolute bottom of Fleet Moss, I heard it again so stopped for a bar and another good look and poke around.

Nothing. 

A few yards later, after a couple of gear changes that felt a bit soft, I felt a pop.

I knew what that was... Snapped gear cable. 

I sniggered at being at the base of a very long climb, noted how even the softest incline was mighty tricky in top of bottom gear (now the lowest of two available), laughed and continued up based on the two alternatives: 

Option 1: pedal all the way home on two gears. No.
Option 2: walk up Fleet Moss and hope upon hopes that the new cafe had the bike mechanic in today. 

Onwards and upwards! Chuckling on and off at the magnificent tailwind that was supposed to get me up faster than usual, pedalling where I could and pushing the majority. 

Well, it kept me warm, didn't go on for as long as I expected and boy, did I enjoy that descent!

The cafe was a grand success. Wonderful people, and the main man was there to sort my gear cable out while I ate lunch. And we were both finished at the same time! 

So, 12.04 and I'm on my way while the pub has only just started serving. How lucky am I?

Now for that shed.
Did I tell you about the shed?

That was the real reason for not turning back. He knew when he said it, I wouldn't be able to help myself. I’m fairly certain he does it on purpose:  

"You must visit Kettlewell next." (or the next village over the next hill (doesn't mention the latter)), 
"Four wonderful descents into Swaledale." [Clears throat] Forgot the four ferocious uphills?
"I can recommend a lovely little road" (usually miles away and terrifically steep (he always omits that part!))
And this time, "Do you know where that shed is?" (Almost in Cumbria!)

But I do have to say, being drip fed the delights of the Dales over the last three years has been a complete pleasure to discover. 

I love the luxury of being able to live in the moment. I think it's a big reason why I enjoy cycling on my own so much. Just taking everything in that's around me. Lapwings lolloping and laughing overhead; curlews calling and soaring; rabbits tearing up the hillside; tiny lambs wobbling in the fields; wide, wide panoramas; and yes, little, little me. 

Yep, admit it, completely overwhelming at times but in such a good way. I sang and sang a whole repertoire, (dreadfully, naturally) and no one was around to care. In the whole ride, I met one person going the same way.  

Buttertubs in newly found bottom gear and with a tailwind was over all too quickly and then the hunt was on.  

I was a touch worried I might miss it with old stone barns magnetising every corner of my eyes. I stopped I forget how often! This has to be my new favourite ride.

But where was it?  

Eventually, I left picturesque barns behind and found wilderness.  And, just coming over the brow of one of the hills, I discovered a rather wide grin developing.  

There it was!

And the joys of the ride didn’t end there (although my luck pretty much did).  The descent into Nateby was exhilarating.  Being early, I found out where the train station was, which platform to wait on and went off for an explore down a little lane beyond to pass the time.

I could have passed a little more to be honest.  The train was 50 minutes late; on it, I was served a black tea instead of peppermint (still downed it!); the train ended up terminating in Skipton; and I discovered I was going to miss the bus by 5 minute.  I could have caught another two trains home but worked out cycling 16 miles would only be marginally slower despite being into the headwind that I’d surfed out on.   

I wasn’t actually intending to blipcopy the shed but it’s become too symbolic not to.

I count my blessings for having a shed full of perfectly timed luck today.  It’s also a good reminder to accept that serendipity cannot last - sheds have a maximum capacity! I was getting my head around that on the platform waiting for the late train, spotting it wasn't going to Shipley but knowing the journey would be stunning in itself, however I made up the miles.

The upper half of my body was very accepting of it.  My thighs were a little less good humoured when they started the last leg home.  
But my spirits were high.  

And still are!

The hugest of thanks to my BlipBuddy for sharing such a magnificent ride. 
I found it!