Blog 12-Shamrocks and Kilts Tour


































2 days, colder than blazes here in central UK. I got the blog caught up after 17 hours and 35 minutes working on it alone. Feels good to be finished up.
Pack up and leave Harrogate by about 9am, after I buy some much needed groceries and water. My friend Randy tells me that I should not miss the Yorkshire Dale’s, so I make changes to my route which had been headed towards Newcastle upon Tyne. This next part is wee bit embarrassing, but a good lesson and I will share it with all of you. I don’t think I had ridden 5. Miles out and the rain came hard out of the north, along with a cutting cold wind. I was cycling thru an RAF Military Base, and was riding past a dense stand of trees. I actually rold off the road into the trees, I began by getting my full rain suit on….rubber pants that will hold 5 gallons of water per leg and most of that is sweat. A second shirt to cut the wind, a full rain jacket and a pair of seal skin rubber gloves……..you guessed it, I am already drenched and wondering the wisdom of it all. While I stood there, partially sheltered by the dense stand of trees, I seriously thought of throwing up my tent till the rain quit?? Right then, not but 10 feet from me……..two riders pass, bare legged, no rain gear, just wind proof anoraks on. They were busy talking back and forth and didn’t even see me.
That’s it, what the heck if two kids on bikes can pedal thru this rain as if it’s not there, surely I am either as tuff of dumb as them……I mean ain’t I. Out I go, suited up and chasing them down. But the little buggers just seem to have vanished in the rain screen ahead of me. Up, down, right turn, left turn, another lane junction and still nothing. Ah, what the heck they must have pulled over and put their tent up I bet. Nope, about 3 maybe 4 miles ahead, I make a tight turn left and downhill on yet another tiny lane, and passing thru a corpse of small trees, there they are standing fully exposed to wind and rain, smiling and eating fold-whiches. Those are the type of sandwich that a lazy person makes, slam in a slice of cheese and bologna, fold the slice over and gett’er down in 2 bites. That’s exactly what they were doing. SORRY, I FORGOT TO TAKE A PICTURE. Anyways, they were almost same age as me, a man and a woman, bare legged, walking shorts and a singlet and an anorak is all…….and I am standing there freezing. As we briefly visit, we figure out we are all basically headed in the same direction, me fully loaded, and them not loaded. I left before they were done, and about 5 miles later as I grunted my way up a hill, they passed me…YES, on the dang hill. EMBARRASING, may have to send my man card back.
Caves, cafe and tea the sign reads and I roll in like its magnetic. First things first, ask if they have a bathroom and I am praying they have one with those blower dryers. God is good, they do. 45 minutes later, I have a dry jacket, pants, and both shirts, all dried nicely under that blower……not sure if the blower is still working today? I head upstairs, dried out, and warmed up, have a hot tea and a soda biscuit. As I sit, it rains hard, so I drink slower, as it lightens up, I got ready to leave but dressed differently this time. Shorts only, unzipped sleeves on my rain jacket and I headed out in wind and rain to ride further.There were much bigger hills ahead, and it didn’t take long to get heated up. The outer edges and tops of the Dale’s area is pretty sparse with any sort of trees, and the wind is really howling strait out of the north and more often than not it is directly in my face. My little tent needs some wind protection to make a stand thru the night. I need a grove of trees, or the protection of a rock wall for instance, and that’s is what I am on the hunt for as I ride.
The following day was heavily overcast, the weather report had said rain for the next 6 to 7 days. I rode without expectation of sunshine that day, and fully expecting to get soaked again. But God indeed had different plans for me. Rode up a ton of short but real steep little hills. It’s not just that the hill is pitched at say 15%, it’s that you hit a literally 90 degree corner then the climb so all momentum is lost, you are frantically shifting down and the chain is wondering which cog it is actually supposed to stay on…..would you please make up your mind. All total that day, we done 6 hills at 16%, one at 20% and I can’t remember how many at less than that……I was pooped. Riding along and it’s about 6afterish PM and I am thinking of a place to camp. Wow, look at that, right beside the road, a 2 story rock barn, rock fences and a 12 foot gate totally swung back leaving an open entry. Checked it out and it looked perfect, found some flat ground tucked in behind the rock fence and set up my tent……even sat down in the door of the tent and ate a simple cold supper. My mistake I think, was getting up to walk out and enjoy the beautiful sunshine that had poked thru the clouds.
Mere minutes later a car rolls up and a young fella jumps out. He is on the prod, and it’s not hard to tell, he is just waiting for me to pop off, ……he tells me to get the F off the place…..NOW. So, I pack it all up, and get on my way again. But by now heavy rain clouds had built up right out in front of me, and I thought oh crap, there goes my dry camp for the night. Rode hard for the next 2 miles, and spotted a cricket pitch and set my tent up right there. Had a quick visit with a fisherman who was walking back to his car. Lots of nice Browns and Rainbows, best to just use worms when the water is this high he tells me. Do that and you will go home with fish he says.
The following day could not have been more glorious, huge puffy white cumulus clouds greeted the morning sun, and brilliant blue sky enveloped the expanse above. The angling rays of morning sun added depth and character to the rugged landscape, bleating sheep with lambs in tow grazed around lazily, song birds and wild blossoms adding to the natural tapestry of the Dale’s. There were eye hurting greens, and purest of whites, broken by absolute miles of hand stacked rock walls and Laiths. If you pay close attention, and start counting there are thousands of simple 2 story barns, which are called “laiths” by the locals. These act as protection from severe weather for the sheep, but also they are for hay storage in the worse seasons. It would be very common for these barns to be 16 by 30 feet in dimension, and all dry stacked rock meaning no mortar.
The number of miles of hand stacked rock is staggering, it would be a huge number for sure. To see it in person on a clear day, to see how far up into the moors ( moors are the top most country which is treeless and covered in a variety of weather that turns deep purple in the fall ) and upon how steep of ground the rock has been stacked is mi d boggling. Apart from all that, the sheer size of the base rocks is just frightening, given the time frame when this work was done, it leaves me wondering how did they actually manage the rocks themselves. The men must have been like iron for sure, as many walls are a full 8 foot height and of tapering thickness from several feet thick to about 18″ width at the top. As if that were not enough, there is often one faith per small fenced field, a field varies in size by seldom do you see one that would be over 50 acres in size. The Dale’s we first inhabited by the Vikings they think, Lord knows where they parked their boats???? So who stacked all this rock and does it still go on today, all God questions. Certainly the Vikings stacked some, but the bulk of the rock was stacked between 1600 and 1800 time period.
There are professional rock stackers today, of course they are universally known as stone masons. But dry stack, which is a Yorkshire trait, is a different breed from that of stacking brick and mortar. Dry stack requires careful thought and planning as small shim rocks are inserted in JUST THE RIGHT SPOT to aid it keeping a wall strait and level. It is the most time consuming method on one hand, but also the cheapest as it requires no mortar etc.i did see a brand new lrock house being erected all dry stack, and walls of a out 2 foot thickness, two story with huge wooden beams laid in place for second floor supports. The roof was just going up as I rode by, bare and naked with the heavy timber rafters exposed, left me the I impression that these were timbers cut green and framed up from that state, not a load of lumber from a yard.
While riding, I did not see one person walking with his trusty order collie companion, seen tones of “trekkers”, re recognizable in there brilliant colored gear, but not one old fellow walking with his heavy wool sweater and the iconic black and white dog we know and love. So who tends the sheep, and who repairs the walls. Obviously, many men today who may have been out walking the moors. y day in James Herriots day, have a town job somewhere, that would be my best guess. As to the walls, while they are very expensive to maintain, they are exceptionally expensive to build today. That cost is. ore in large part by an agreement with the EU Farming Protocol. To assure the continuation, and enhancement of a unique cultural region and experience, the maintainenece is in part shared thru the whole of the EU. To what extent, of that I am not sure, but the program does exist.
Well hello I say, as a fellow long haul cyclist and I meet on an incredibly steep hill. His name Terry, hails from New Zealand, also a world cyclist. Older than I, he being 73, you will find that the UK has some of the toughest cycling you can find he assures me. Barely a s ow capped peak, save for but a few further north. Here you can encounter five 20% climbs within a single mile in some areas, and then a long grade at 10-15% for as much as 2 miles. Terry is tall, rugged and fit for his age, causing me to ask what he done for a living before he retired. Well he says, do we simple workers ever really get to retire?? When life began I was a school teacher at the High School level, had a wife and all the rest. But the wife up and left, and the kids are more painful to deal with each day it seems. One day while sitting having tea in the comfort of my English home on a Saturday morning. I noticed an ad in the paper that read ” wanted, apple pickers in New Zealand”, that was in 1972. I have picked apples and other things every season since, I live quite simply on the west coast of the best island, that being the south island he says with a wink. Of yes, I do some substitute tea thing and fill ins at the Post Office when regulars goes on holidays. Basically, I try to make enough extra every year to simp,y escape the New Zealand winter, which is rain everyday for three months. I love to go to USA or Australia, get out I to the outback of OZ or into Nevada and Arizona. Just dry out a little he says with a smile. I love USA he claims, the rest of the world could use a little of your countries freedoms.
We part ways, me to the north and he to the south. I cycle thru Thwaite and have tea and reflect a little on the conversation with Terry. It reminds me of a similar talk I had with Chris and Jennifer just 2 days before while standing on a brilliant stone bridge in Bainbridge. I sure wish we had a flaming red headed Prime Minister says Chris. This country could use a swift kick in the economical pants, it’s just atrocious how these politicians run the country. Barry a one of me has ever worked out here where us stiffs make a go of it. Ah Chris, but he is so rude isn`t he says Jennifer, his wife. Yeah, I`all grant ya that gun. So, I ask them if they ever tire of political merry-go-round answers. Where they talk for 5 minutes but never answer the actual question. Of my God yes, we are both so sick of the verbal escape plan. So I says, when President Trump stands up and says XYZ without and extra fluff, why is he all of a sudden crude and uncouth? Well you have a point there says Jennifer……..maybe he could soften the tone just a tad says Chris. We have been to USA several times they tell me, just love it, especially southwest, like Cody and Sedona. I bought a hat and boots I was so impressed with cowboys, seen them all over on the streets of Cody, had ta have me a pair as well. Those boots, they make a person walk funny now don’t they. Did not have the heart to tell him that good boots don’t make you walk funny, and most of the cowboys he seen where other tourists who arrived the day before. None of that was important, the essense of what made America great to him was our apparent freedoms. Praise God above, for the greatest nation on earth JW added this.
Blog Post 6- Shamrocks and Kilts Tour A sky dark grey sky of rain laden clouds greets me like a British anthem when I awake, no rain thru the night, but I am betting that we get rain thru this day. Rolled my tent, made some toast and tea then headed out. I had layed in bed, looking at my map on the phone, I knew I had to begin riding east to smaller country.
That was the only realization that I had come to at that point, the rest would be revealed as I rode, by the people that I met and the country I passed thru. One such fellow was a guy who said he was the mayor of this little town I passed thru.
We of course came to know this thru conversation and my lamenting the abundance of vehicles. He proceeded to tell me that something like 70 plus percent of English head for the lower southwest corner of the country on holidays. Quite simple he said, it’s the warmest, the best beaches and plenty of parks and hikes for the children. So just avoid the southern half of the UK I says in jest. If it were me, YES he says. Try Scotland he says with a smile…..I hear its lovely up there one day a year. We both got a chuckle.
On we go, and I am now searching out roads, tracks, etc that are listed as lanes or roads given a name but not a number. In some places there are plenty, others it is really a struggle and you end up having to hit a major road someplace just as a connector between the littles. These prove to be very intimidating each time. School is out, school is still in, heck I don’t know, so I begin asking. Schools here are on a rotational summer holiday agenda. Meaning g that each county is given a 2 week date and during that time only that school is out. That’s the best explanation I have had to date.
Another issue with using the gorgeous country lanes to travel by, a two fold problem really. You cannot see a darned thing, not kidding, rock walls and or 8 foot tall hedge rows impede you seeing anything on either side of that lane. So you watch for gate openings etc to stop and take a peek at the lay of the countryside.
It is truly beautiful, really is. Another thing I noticed was laying in the tent at night my legs tired, and I know I had done some serious sweating thru the day. My ride miles would be 40-50 miles, close to my usual ride pace of 55 average. But when you look at the distance by a major road it was only getting me in the mid twenty mile range down the road. So at this pace I would not be back home till like……2026.
I simply cannot spend all my time zig zagging if I want to get round this place and back home. Down a hill, up a hill, maybe a little spurt across a flat, then up a hill and down a hill was my routine for the day. Rode down and around a corner and met 2 cyclists stopped and looking at their phones. As it turned out, they are 2 guys run a cycling tour package company. On this day, they are mapping out some new loops as he called it. One guy done most of the talking, and was rather a heartless chap it seemed. I told them the trouble I was having, to which he said, welcome to cycling UK. He says we map out loops that offer different challenges to our groups, we try to plan a loop in which we can stop to eat twice, and maybe have an interesting historical item to visit. We ride 2 maybe 3 loops from a small town, then move by van to the next location and do it again. That’s what I would suggest that you do. I says, well. I don’t have a tag along van, and these country lanes while beautiful, they don’t get me very far across the UK at any point time. No, that is true he says, but you will be safe, so stop your whinging. Right I says, giving him my fishmongers eyebrow.
I think my phone is trying to tell me that it needs a rest. Can’t keep it charged up all day, even with the front hub working just fine, battery just loses to much juice. So about 2pm, and since every cross roads seems to have a tiny pub. I pop in, have a tea and charge me phone. I have only eaten at a pub one time so far while I was riding. Still making supper at night for myself. But one of the options that I have considered, is sending most of my camp outfit back home, even lighten my tool pack. But on those days when you get rained on thru the day, it leaves with no way to have anything hot at night before you climb into bed. I don’t mind not having my dinosaur pajamas to wear while I am out traveling, but if I can’t have my hot milk and biscuits, there may be hell to pay. The hills are getting smaller and smaller as I make my way further east, trying to slip under Birmingham and on east from there.
Ever vigilante to be watching that I don’t box myself in and force myself to tackle a road to big, especially those roads marked A. Zoomed down a steep hill and banked hard right……..dead flat and fresh mowed grass on each side, no rock walls or even a hedge……was I on the moon? Put the tent up, right on the side of the road, so few cars. The tent and sleeping bag needed to be aired out, so in the last few ray’s of sunshine, they waved in the wind. I sat there eating tuna in tomatoes (Dan Quail) sauce, and a couple slices of bread and cheese. Just looking out at a field of fat round clean sheep…….so, do ya think that one day a guy sees a sheep with a random branch stuck in the wool as it drags behind the sheep, and that’s the origin of the CUE TIP.
Anyways a fellow, badly winded from running, rounds the bend not but 200 yards to my left. He can hardly breathe as he walks past so we get to talking…..well, okay, I talked and he huffed for the most part. He is runnin another ½ marathon but wants to get into triathlon. I was a swimmer while in University he says, so I have that handled pretty well. Running was always a part of the swim season training, but the cycling has me really stymied he says. Why is that I ask, the traffic, the bloody traffic. Sorry, you will have to stop whinging on about the traffic my mate, that whining belongs to me I says. We compare notes, but his is far worse and happened right here on one of these tiny little country try lanes. My friend was cycle training ing for a triathlon, was struck and killed by a young kid just going way to fast, not but 10 miles from here in that direction he points.
So needless to say, my wife is not to happy when I tell her I am going to go train for cycling. I am a teacher, so I ride a spinner alot, at school and at home, but as you may know, it’s just not the same. Yeah, I can appreciate it I says, my wife is always disappointed when I get back home too.
Bright colors and activity on the opposite side of the passing hedge row bring me to a halt. I thought it was a farmer market, but if so, it was a long way out in the country for one. So, I mozzy in and low and behold it was a go cart racing competition. Plenty of carts, maybe 50-60. And they raced from 4 years old on up to 16. Twin engine carts capable of doing better than 70 mile an hour, and the little tykes raced bantam carts with 1 engine.
First guy I walked up to, and I spoke a few words, he says I used to live in Oregon for 8 years. Beautiful state he says totally tree covered. I asked him if he ever crossed the Cascade range and seen the other side. No, why. Well next time you go back, when you head over that way bring a tree with you so there will be a least one on the east side. Nice guy, an aeronautical engineer. Stopped to talk to another fellow, James. He is a lorry driver and he build operating rooms in hospitals. Yes I know a very unusual combination. He delivers medical equipment all over UK and Scotland. We visit about his cart, and his sons last year of racing. Just to expensive to move up to the next level, a out 100K a year for cart and crew at the next racing level. But he says, if you can shine in that stage you may win your way into sponsorship and the next level of racing which is an actual car. But very few make it he says. He proceeds asking about myself, and the bike. End up talking about roads etc. Well the south is crowded out by the English, the east coast is crowded out by the folks who come over from Belgium, Holland etc. Let’s just say that it’s already crowded, but in the summers it is especially crowded. Get to Scotland mate, that’s my advice, it won’t be much better but they are less crowded in the middle and over crowded along the edges so you may find somewhere to ride. I am sitting in a cheap hotel in Banbury at the moment, and the guy in the next room is smoking joint after joint. I have been leaning out this window for half and hour, inhaling like a mad man, still can’t feel a thing, must be cheap stuff he is rolling. Speaking of just that, I think that every other Brit is a vapor, little old ladies, young men and women, it is everywhere. Sort of surprised me really, being socialized medicine and all, I just thought they would have come up with a manner to curtail the practice.
A word to the rest of us Trump supporters. If he doesn’t do something about cutting spending, what we will have seen is McConneell will have traded Trump his executive orders strait across for NO-LIMIT spending. Sure worries me, that we are not making inroads on lowering the level of the swamp, nor working our way thru some true budget cuts. Okay, my political rant is over……Whitney, don’t read this paragraph. Not about cycling, just observations and comments. I
have finished 4 books so far. The case for Trump, by one of my favorite authors Victor Davis Hansen was a very interesting read. Followed by Remi Adelekes story called Transformed, also a very interesting read and a great chance to see a man’s heart changed toward Christ in a powerful way. A Dan Silva book, I like his fictional books spy thrillers. I wanted something a little heavier, and my son suggested Fountainhead by Ayn Rand – I have this book but not read it yet. I did also download another book by Ayn Rand, called We the Living. I really think that if you have a brain numbed adolescent with ripped skinny Jean’s sitting on the couch exercising his thumbs, slap him, then hand him this book. So many of the young ( of which I am one- young that is) feel that Red Bernie Sanders has the answers to their problems. Dang, they need to read this book by Ayn Rand. And I am just now on chapter 5 of Drain the Swamp. Interesting for sure so far. Once again, here is a guy calling on us THE CITIZEN to act. The take away is that we complain, we reelect, and re-complain.
I know that God never sends me where I can`t go, He sends me where others cannot go. And for this I am very grateful. I asked for advice, I asked for wisdom, I asked him to make my path clear. And to my way of thinking, he certainly did thru the people that I met over the last few days. So, I rented an apartment overlooking the beach, and will be home in 3 months…….ya right, Jdub is not a beach guy. Give me a lawn chair to reweave with Baler twine while sitting in the evening sun in ……..Quartsite. Holly doodle, did I really say that?
I am in another rat trap room, looks like a motel room right out of 1960 in Alturas California for instance. But it’s a room, my clothes are all washed…..yes they badly need the washing. My intention was to train it north to Newcastle. Last night I found a cycle route planner and after playing with it for several hours, I have decided to ride out of here….unbeaten for the moment at least. My ride is 235 miles north to Newcastle. If the ride and mapping prove to be an issue there are 2 cities along the way that offer train service north as a way out. Good night and may God bless us all.
Another issue with using the gorgeous country lanes to travel by, a two fold problem really. You cannot see a darned thing, not kidding, rock walls and or 8 foot tall hedge rows impede you seeing anything on either side of that lane. So you watch for gate openings etc to stop and take a peek at the lay of the countryside.
It is truly beautiful, really is. Another thing I noticed was laying in the tent at night my legs tired, and I know I had done some serious sweating thru the day. My ride miles would be 40-50 miles, close to my usual ride pace of 55 average. But when you look at the distance by a major road it was only getting me in the mid twenty mile range down the road. So at this pace I would not be back home till like……2026.
I simply cannot spend all my time zig zagging if I want to get round this place and back home. Down a hill, up a hill, maybe a little spurt across a flat, then up a hill and down a hill was my routine for the day. Rode down and around a corner and met 2 cyclists stopped and looking at their phones. As it turned out, they are 2 guys run a cycling tour package company. On this day, they are mapping out some new loops as he called it. One guy done most of the talking, and was rather a heartless chap it seemed. I told them the trouble I was having, to which he said, welcome to cycling UK. He says we map out loops that offer different challenges to our groups, we try to plan a loop in which we can stop to eat twice, and maybe have an interesting historical item to visit. We ride 2 maybe 3 loops from a small town, then move by van to the next location and do it again. That’s what I would suggest that you do. I says, well. I don’t have a tag along van, and these country lanes while beautiful, they don’t get me very far across the UK at any point time. No, that is true he says, but you will be safe, so stop your whinging. Right I says, giving him my fishmongers eyebrow.
I think my phone is trying to tell me that it needs a rest. Can’t keep it charged up all day, even with the front hub working just fine, battery just loses to much juice. So about 2pm, and since every cross roads seems to have a tiny pub. I pop in, have a tea and charge me phone. I have only eaten at a pub one time so far while I was riding. Still making supper at night for myself. But one of the options that I have considered, is sending most of my camp outfit back home, even lighten my tool pack. But on those days when you get rained on thru the day, it leaves with no way to have anything hot at night before you climb into bed. I don’t mind not having my dinosaur pajamas to wear while I am out traveling, but if I can’t have my hot milk and biscuits, there may be hell to pay. The hills are getting smaller and smaller as I make my way further east, trying to slip under Birmingham and on east from there.
Ever vigilante to be watching that I don’t box myself in and force myself to tackle a road to big, especially those roads marked A. Zoomed down a steep hill and banked hard right……..dead flat and fresh mowed grass on each side, no rock walls or even a hedge……was I on the moon? Put the tent up, right on the side of the road, so few cars. The tent and sleeping bag needed to be aired out, so in the last few ray’s of sunshine, they waved in the wind. I sat there eating tuna in tomatoes (Dan Quail) sauce, and a couple slices of bread and cheese. Just looking out at a field of fat round clean sheep…….so, do ya think that one day a guy sees a sheep with a random branch stuck in the wool as it drags behind the sheep, and that’s the origin of the CUE TIP.
Anyways a fellow, badly winded from running, rounds the bend not but 200 yards to my left. He can hardly breathe as he walks past so we get to talking…..well, okay, I talked and he huffed for the most part. He is runnin another ½ marathon but wants to get into triathlon. I was a swimmer while in University he says, so I have that handled pretty well. Running was always a part of the swim season training, but the cycling has me really stymied he says. Why is that I ask, the traffic, the bloody traffic. Sorry, you will have to stop whinging on about the traffic my mate, that whining belongs to me I says. We compare notes, but his is far worse and happened right here on one of these tiny little country try lanes. My friend was cycle training ing for a triathlon, was struck and killed by a young kid just going way to fast, not but 10 miles from here in that direction he points.
So needless to say, my wife is not to happy when I tell her I am going to go train for cycling. I am a teacher, so I ride a spinner alot, at school and at home, but as you may know, it’s just not the same. Yeah, I can appreciate it I says, my wife is always disappointed when I get back home too.
Bright colors and activity on the opposite side of the passing hedge row bring me to a halt. I thought it was a farmer market, but if so, it was a long way out in the country for one. So, I mozzy in and low and behold it was a go cart racing competition. Plenty of carts, maybe 50-60. And they raced from 4 years old on up to 16. Twin engine carts capable of doing better than 70 mile an hour, and the little tykes raced bantam carts with 1 engine.
First guy I walked up to, and I spoke a few words, he says I used to live in Oregon for 8 years. Beautiful state he says totally tree covered. I asked him if he ever crossed the Cascade range and seen the other side. No, why. Well next time you go back, when you head over that way bring a tree with you so there will be a least one on the east side. Nice guy, an aeronautical engineer. Stopped to talk to another fellow, James. He is a lorry driver and he build operating rooms in hospitals. Yes I know a very unusual combination. He delivers medical equipment all over UK and Scotland. We visit about his cart, and his sons last year of racing. Just to expensive to move up to the next level, a out 100K a year for cart and crew at the next racing level. But he says, if you can shine in that stage you may win your way into sponsorship and the next level of racing which is an actual car. But very few make it he says. He proceeds asking about myself, and the bike. End up talking about roads etc. Well the south is crowded out by the English, the east coast is crowded out by the folks who come over from Belgium, Holland etc. Let’s just say that it’s already crowded, but in the summers it is especially crowded. Get to Scotland mate, that’s my advice, it won’t be much better but they are less crowded in the middle and over crowded along the edges so you may find somewhere to ride. I am sitting in a cheap hotel in Banbury at the moment, and the guy in the next room is smoking joint after joint. I have been leaning out this window for half and hour, inhaling like a mad man, still can’t feel a thing, must be cheap stuff he is rolling. Speaking of just that, I think that every other Brit is a vapor, little old ladies, young men and women, it is everywhere. Sort of surprised me really, being socialized medicine and all, I just thought they would have come up with a manner to curtail the practice.
A word to the rest of us Trump supporters. If he doesn’t do something about cutting spending, what we will have seen is McConneell will have traded Trump his executive orders strait across for NO-LIMIT spending. Sure worries me, that we are not making inroads on lowering the level of the swamp, nor working our way thru some true budget cuts. Okay, my political rant is over……Whitney, don’t read this paragraph. Not about cycling, just observations and comments. I
have finished 4 books so far. The case for Trump, by one of my favorite authors Victor Davis Hansen was a very interesting read. Followed by Remi Adelekes story called Transformed, also a very interesting read and a great chance to see a man’s heart changed toward Christ in a powerful way. A Dan Silva book, I like his fictional books spy thrillers. I wanted something a little heavier, and my son suggested Fountainhead by Ayn Rand – I have this book but not read it yet. I did also download another book by Ayn Rand, called We the Living. I really think that if you have a brain numbed adolescent with ripped skinny Jean’s sitting on the couch exercising his thumbs, slap him, then hand him this book. So many of the young ( of which I am one- young that is) feel that Red Bernie Sanders has the answers to their problems. Dang, they need to read this book by Ayn Rand. And I am just now on chapter 5 of Drain the Swamp. Interesting for sure so far. Once again, here is a guy calling on us THE CITIZEN to act. The take away is that we complain, we reelect, and re-complain.
I know that God never sends me where I can`t go, He sends me where others cannot go. And for this I am very grateful. I asked for advice, I asked for wisdom, I asked him to make my path clear. And to my way of thinking, he certainly did thru the people that I met over the last few days. So, I rented an apartment overlooking the beach, and will be home in 3 months…….ya right, Jdub is not a beach guy. Give me a lawn chair to reweave with Baler twine while sitting in the evening sun in ……..Quartsite. Holly doodle, did I really say that?
I am in another rat trap room, looks like a motel room right out of 1960 in Alturas California for instance. But it’s a room, my clothes are all washed…..yes they badly need the washing. My intention was to train it north to Newcastle. Last night I found a cycle route planner and after playing with it for several hours, I have decided to ride out of here….unbeaten for the moment at least. My ride is 235 miles north to Newcastle. If the ride and mapping prove to be an issue there are 2 cities along the way that offer train service north as a way out. Good night and may God bless us all.
Another issue with using the gorgeous country lanes to travel by, a two fold problem really. You cannot see a darned thing, not kidding, rock walls and or 8 foot tall hedge rows impede you seeing anything on either side of that lane. So you watch for gate openings etc to stop and take a peek at the lay of the countryside.
It is truly beautiful, really is. Another thing I noticed was laying in the tent at night my legs tired, and I know I had done some serious sweating thru the day. My ride miles would be 40-50 miles, close to my usual ride pace of 55 average. But when you look at the distance by a major road it was only getting me in the mid twenty mile range down the road. So at this pace I would not be back home till like……2026.
I simply cannot spend all my time zig zagging if I want to get round this place and back home. Down a hill, up a hill, maybe a little spurt across a flat, then up a hill and down a hill was my routine for the day. Rode down and around a corner and met 2 cyclists stopped and looking at their phones. As it turned out, they are 2 guys run a cycling tour package company. On this day, they are mapping out some new loops as he called it. One guy done most of the talking, and was rather a heartless chap it seemed. I told them the trouble I was having, to which he said, welcome to cycling UK. He says we map out loops that offer different challenges to our groups, we try to plan a loop in which we can stop to eat twice, and maybe have an interesting historical item to visit. We ride 2 maybe 3 loops from a small town, then move by van to the next location and do it again. That’s what I would suggest that you do. I says, well. I don’t have a tag along van, and these country lanes while beautiful, they don’t get me very far across the UK at any point time. No, that is true he says, but you will be safe, so stop your whinging. Right I says, giving him my fishmongers eyebrow.
I think my phone is trying to tell me that it needs a rest. Can’t keep it charged up all day, even with the front hub working just fine, battery just loses to much juice. So about 2pm, and since every cross roads seems to have a tiny pub. I pop in, have a tea and charge me phone. I have only eaten at a pub one time so far while I was riding. Still making supper at night for myself. But one of the options that I have considered, is sending most of my camp outfit back home, even lighten my tool pack. But on those days when you get rained on thru the day, it leaves with no way to have anything hot at night before you climb into bed. I don’t mind not having my dinosaur pajamas to wear while I am out traveling, but if I can’t have my hot milk and biscuits, there may be hell to pay. The hills are getting smaller and smaller as I make my way further east, trying to slip under Birmingham and on east from there.
Ever vigilante to be watching that I don’t box myself in and force myself to tackle a road to big, especially those roads marked A. Zoomed down a steep hill and banked hard right……..dead flat and fresh mowed grass on each side, no rock walls or even a hedge……was I on the moon? Put the tent up, right on the side of the road, so few cars. The tent and sleeping bag needed to be aired out, so in the last few ray’s of sunshine, they waved in the wind. I sat there eating tuna in tomatoes (Dan Quail) sauce, and a couple slices of bread and cheese. Just looking out at a field of fat round clean sheep…….so, do ya think that one day a guy sees a sheep with a random branch stuck in the wool as it drags behind the sheep, and that’s the origin of the CUE TIP.
Anyways a fellow, badly winded from running, rounds the bend not but 200 yards to my left. He can hardly breathe as he walks past so we get to talking…..well, okay, I talked and he huffed for the most part. He is runnin another ½ marathon but wants to get into triathlon. I was a swimmer while in University he says, so I have that handled pretty well. Running was always a part of the swim season training, but the cycling has me really stymied he says. Why is that I ask, the traffic, the bloody traffic. Sorry, you will have to stop whinging on about the traffic my mate, that whining belongs to me I says. We compare notes, but his is far worse and happened right here on one of these tiny little country try lanes. My friend was cycle training ing for a triathlon, was struck and killed by a young kid just going way to fast, not but 10 miles from here in that direction he points.
So needless to say, my wife is not to happy when I tell her I am going to go train for cycling. I am a teacher, so I ride a spinner alot, at school and at home, but as you may know, it’s just not the same. Yeah, I can appreciate it I says, my wife is always disappointed when I get back home too.
Bright colors and activity on the opposite side of the passing hedge row bring me to a halt. I thought it was a farmer market, but if so, it was a long way out in the country for one. So, I mozzy in and low and behold it was a go cart racing competition. Plenty of carts, maybe 50-60. And they raced from 4 years old on up to 16. Twin engine carts capable of doing better than 70 mile an hour, and the little tykes raced bantam carts with 1 engine.
First guy I walked up to, and I spoke a few words, he says I used to live in Oregon for 8 years. Beautiful state he says totally tree covered. I asked him if he ever crossed the Cascade range and seen the other side. No, why. Well next time you go back, when you head over that way bring a tree with you so there will be a least one on the east side. Nice guy, an aeronautical engineer. Stopped to talk to another fellow, James. He is a lorry driver and he build operating rooms in hospitals. Yes I know a very unusual combination. He delivers medical equipment all over UK and Scotland. We visit about his cart, and his sons last year of racing. Just to expensive to move up to the next level, a out 100K a year for cart and crew at the next racing level. But he says, if you can shine in that stage you may win your way into sponsorship and the next level of racing which is an actual car. But very few make it he says. He proceeds asking about myself, and the bike. End up talking about roads etc. Well the south is crowded out by the English, the east coast is crowded out by the folks who come over from Belgium, Holland etc. Let’s just say that it’s already crowded, but in the summers it is especially crowded. Get to Scotland mate, that’s my advice, it won’t be much better but they are less crowded in the middle and over crowded along the edges so you may find somewhere to ride. I am sitting in a cheap hotel in Banbury at the moment, and the guy in the next room is smoking joint after joint. I have been leaning out this window for half and hour, inhaling like a mad man, still can’t feel a thing, must be cheap stuff he is rolling. Speaking of just that, I think that every other Brit is a vapor, little old ladies, young men and women, it is everywhere. Sort of surprised me really, being socialized medicine and all, I just thought they would have come up with a manner to curtail the practice.
A word to the rest of us Trump supporters. If he doesn’t do something about cutting spending, what we will have seen is McConneell will have traded Trump his executive orders strait across for NO-LIMIT spending. Sure worries me, that we are not making inroads on lowering the level of the swamp, nor working our way thru some true budget cuts. Okay, my political rant is over……Whitney, don’t read this paragraph. Not about cycling, just observations and comments. I
have finished 4 books so far. The case for Trump, by one of my favorite authors Victor Davis Hansen was a very interesting read. Followed by Remi Adelekes story called Transformed, also a very interesting read and a great chance to see a man’s heart changed toward Christ in a powerful way. A Dan Silva book, I like his fictional books spy thrillers. I wanted something a little heavier, and my son suggested Fountainhead by Ayn Rand – I have this book but not read it yet. I did also download another book by Ayn Rand, called We the Living. I really think that if you have a brain numbed adolescent with ripped skinny Jean’s sitting on the couch exercising his thumbs, slap him, then hand him this book. So many of the young ( of which I am one- young that is) feel that Red Bernie Sanders has the answers to their problems. Dang, they need to read this book by Ayn Rand. And I am just now on chapter 5 of Drain the Swamp. Interesting for sure so far. Once again, here is a guy calling on us THE CITIZEN to act. The take away is that we complain, we reelect, and re-complain.
I know that God never sends me where I can`t go, He sends me where others cannot go. And for this I am very grateful. I asked for advice, I asked for wisdom, I asked him to make my path clear. And to my way of thinking, he certainly did thru the people that I met over the last few days. So, I rented an apartment overlooking the beach, and will be home in 3 months…….ya right, Jdub is not a beach guy. Give me a lawn chair to reweave with Baler twine while sitting in the evening sun in ……..Quartsite. Holly doodle, did I really say that?
I am in another rat trap room, looks like a motel room right out of 1960 in Alturas California for instance. But it’s a room, my clothes are all washed…..yes they badly need the washing. My intention was to train it north to Newcastle. Last night I found a cycle route planner and after playing with it for several hours, I have decided to ride out of here….unbeaten for the moment at least. My ride is 235 miles north to Newcastle. If the ride and mapping prove to be an issue there are 2 cities along the way that offer train service north as a way out. Good night and may God bless us all.
On we go, and I am now searching out roads, tracks, etc that are listed as lanes or roads given a name but not a number. In some places there are plenty, others it is really a struggle and you end up having to hit a major road someplace just as a connector between the littles. These prove to be very intimidating each time. School is out, school is still in, heck I don’t know, so I begin asking. Schools here are on a rotational summer holiday agenda. Meaning g that each county is given a 2 week date and during that time only that school is out. That’s the best explanation I have had to date. Another issue with using the gorgeous country lanes to travel by, a two fold problem really. You cannot see a darned thing, not kidding, rock walls and or 8 foot tall hedge rows impede you seeing anything on either side of that lane. So you watch for gate openings etc to stop and take a peek at the lay of the countryside.
It is truly beautiful, really is. Another thing I noticed was laying in the tent at night my legs tired, and I know I had done some serious sweating thru the day. My ride miles would be 40-50 miles, close to my usual ride pace of 55 average. But when you look at the distance by a major road it was only getting me in the mid twenty mile range down the road. So at this pace I would not be back home till like……2026.
I simply cannot spend all my time zig zagging if I want to get round this place and back home. Down a hill, up a hill, maybe a little spurt across a flat, then up a hill and down a hill was my routine for the day. Rode down and around a corner and met 2 cyclists stopped and looking at their phones. As it turned out, they are 2 guys run a cycling tour package company. On this day, they are mapping out some new loops as he called it. One guy done most of the talking, and was rather a heartless chap it seemed. I told them the trouble I was having, to which he said, welcome to cycling UK. He says we map out loops that offer different challenges to our groups, we try to plan a loop in which we can stop to eat twice, and maybe have an interesting historical item to visit. We ride 2 maybe 3 loops from a small town, then move by van to the next location and do it again. That’s what I would suggest that you do. I says, well. I don’t have a tag along van, and these country lanes while beautiful, they don’t get me very far across the UK at any point time. No, that is true he says, but you will be safe, so stop your whinging. Right I says, giving him my fishmongers eyebrow.
I think my phone is trying to tell me that it needs a rest. Can’t keep it charged up all day, even with the front hub working just fine, battery just loses to much juice. So about 2pm, and since every cross roads seems to have a tiny pub. I pop in, have a tea and charge me phone. I have only eaten at a pub one time so far while I was riding. Still making supper at night for myself. But one of the options that I have considered, is sending most of my camp outfit back home, even lighten my tool pack. But on those days when you get rained on thru the day, it leaves with no way to have anything hot at night before you climb into bed. I don’t mind not having my dinosaur pajamas to wear while I am out traveling, but if I can’t have my hot milk and biscuits, there may be hell to pay. The hills are getting smaller and smaller as I make my way further east, trying to slip under Birmingham and on east from there.
Ever vigilante to be watching that I don’t box myself in and force myself to tackle a road to big, especially those roads marked A. Zoomed down a steep hill and banked hard right……..dead flat and fresh mowed grass on each side, no rock walls or even a hedge……was I on the moon? Put the tent up, right on the side of the road, so few cars. The tent and sleeping bag needed to be aired out, so in the last few ray’s of sunshine, they waved in the wind. I sat there eating tuna in tomatoes (Dan Quail) sauce, and a couple slices of bread and cheese. Just looking out at a field of fat round clean sheep…….so, do ya think that one day a guy sees a sheep with a random branch stuck in the wool as it drags behind the sheep, and that’s the origin of the CUE TIP.
Anyways a fellow, badly winded from running, rounds the bend not but 200 yards to my left. He can hardly breathe as he walks past so we get to talking…..well, okay, I talked and he huffed for the most part. He is runnin another ½ marathon but wants to get into triathlon. I was a swimmer while in University he says, so I have that handled pretty well. Running was always a part of the swim season training, but the cycling has me really stymied he says. Why is that I ask, the traffic, the bloody traffic. Sorry, you will have to stop whinging on about the traffic my mate, that whining belongs to me I says. We compare notes, but his is far worse and happened right here on one of these tiny little country try lanes. My friend was cycle training ing for a triathlon, was struck and killed by a young kid just going way to fast, not but 10 miles from here in that direction he points.
So needless to say, my wife is not to happy when I tell her I am going to go train for cycling. I am a teacher, so I ride a spinner alot, at school and at home, but as you may know, it’s just not the same. Yeah, I can appreciate it I says, my wife is always disappointed when I get back home too.
Bright colors and activity on the opposite side of the passing hedge row bring me to a halt. I thought it was a farmer market, but if so, it was a long way out in the country for one. So, I mozzy in and low and behold it was a go cart racing competition. Plenty of carts, maybe 50-60. And they raced from 4 years old on up to 16. Twin engine carts capable of doing better than 70 mile an hour, and the little tykes raced bantam carts with 1 engine.
First guy I walked up to, and I spoke a few words, he says I used to live in Oregon for 8 years. Beautiful state he says totally tree covered. I asked him if he ever crossed the Cascade range and seen the other side. No, why. Well next time you go back, when you head over that way bring a tree with you so there will be a least one on the east side. Nice guy, an aeronautical engineer. Stopped to talk to another fellow, James. He is a lorry driver and he build operating rooms in hospitals. Yes I know a very unusual combination. He delivers medical equipment all over UK and Scotland. We visit about his cart, and his sons last year of racing. Just to expensive to move up to the next level, a out 100K a year for cart and crew at the next racing level. But he says, if you can shine in that stage you may win your way into sponsorship and the next level of racing which is an actual car. But very few make it he says. He proceeds asking about myself, and the bike. End up talking about roads etc. Well the south is crowded out by the English, the east coast is crowded out by the folks who come over from Belgium, Holland etc. Let’s just say that it’s already crowded, but in the summers it is especially crowded. Get to Scotland mate, that’s my advice, it won’t be much better but they are less crowded in the middle and over crowded along the edges so you may find somewhere to ride. I am sitting in a cheap hotel in Banbury at the moment, and the guy in the next room is smoking joint after joint. I have been leaning out this window for half and hour, inhaling like a mad man, still can’t feel a thing, must be cheap stuff he is rolling. Speaking of just that, I think that every other Brit is a vapor, little old ladies, young men and women, it is everywhere. Sort of surprised me really, being socialized medicine and all, I just thought they would have come up with a manner to curtail the practice.
A word to the rest of us Trump supporters. If he doesn’t do something about cutting spending, what we will have seen is McConneell will have traded Trump his executive orders strait across for NO-LIMIT spending. Sure worries me, that we are not making inroads on lowering the level of the swamp, nor working our way thru some true budget cuts. Okay, my political rant is over……Whitney, don’t read this paragraph. Not about cycling, just observations and comments. I
have finished 4 books so far. The case for Trump, by one of my favorite authors Victor Davis Hansen was a very interesting read. Followed by Remi Adelekes story called Transformed, also a very interesting read and a great chance to see a man’s heart changed toward Christ in a powerful way. A Dan Silva book, I like his fictional books spy thrillers. I wanted something a little heavier, and my son suggested Fountainhead by Ayn Rand – I have this book but not read it yet. I did also download another book by Ayn Rand, called We the Living. I really think that if you have a brain numbed adolescent with ripped skinny Jean’s sitting on the couch exercising his thumbs, slap him, then hand him this book. So many of the young ( of which I am one- young that is) feel that Red Bernie Sanders has the answers to their problems. Dang, they need to read this book by Ayn Rand. And I am just now on chapter 5 of Drain the Swamp. Interesting for sure so far. Once again, here is a guy calling on us THE CITIZEN to act. The take away is that we complain, we reelect, and re-complain.
I know that God never sends me where I can`t go, He sends me where others cannot go. And for this I am very grateful. I asked for advice, I asked for wisdom, I asked him to make my path clear. And to my way of thinking, he certainly did thru the people that I met over the last few days. So, I rented an apartment overlooking the beach, and will be home in 3 months…….ya right, Jdub is not a beach guy. Give me a lawn chair to reweave with Baler twine while sitting in the evening sun in ……..Quartsite. Holly doodle, did I really say that?
I am in another rat trap room, looks like a motel room right out of 1960 in Alturas California for instance. But it’s a room, my clothes are all washed…..yes they badly need the washing. My intention was to train it north to Newcastle. Last night I found a cycle route planner and after playing with it for several hours, I have decided to ride out of here….unbeaten for the moment at least. My ride is 235 miles north to Newcastle. If the ride and mapping prove to be an issue there are 2 cities along the way that offer train service north as a way out. Good night and may God bless us all.
What you are reading here is the 6th full blog post that I have put up. Many thanks to world press, which is a total pain it has erased all the work I have done on 3 posts prior to this. So JW will be in UK a little longer…..like 2 weeks longer. While cycling about, I happened to meet a WordPress Comp-engineer. I quickly bludgeoned him senseless with my tire pump, left him laying on the side of the road in a pile of computer shortcuts……that’ll teach him. When I was called before the magistrate to answer for my crime, I explained who he worked for and that I was a blogger. The judge awarded me a 2 week holiday in Wales all expenses paid, told me that beating should have happened years ago…..he was a blogger as well. All joking aside, this will be the last time I blog using this dang WordPress platform. Dad, just be patient my daughter would say.
So, where the heck were we because I have to run thru my memory bank, all the way back to leaving the Isle of Man by Ferry to Liverpool. I was told, that unless I had tried Queenies, Manx Kippers and Donaldson`s Ice cream, I was not really on the IoM. That leaves me, a man with a severe fish phobia, needing to try fish, ICE CREAM I can handle. Queenies and baby scallops, served on a piece of sourdough toast, then a white wine sauce is poured over them, along with a lite waist slimming salad of course its fish don’t forget. And since Mom was not there to remind me, the lady at the next table reminded me that “there just full of Omega 3.s as well, aren’t they delish”. OMG, would somebody please figure out how to make Angus Beef be chalked full of Omega 3’s. Enough already.
Ice cream, is chalk full of everything supposedly bad for you and goes down so easy. That’s what I love about BAD FOR YOU FOOD. Here is the taste for you folks at home. You can eat a chocolate bar wrapper and all, and it will go down with great enjoyment. Try that with a package of fish buddy, and see If I ain’t right. But back to the food blog, the Donaldsons Ice Cream was just okay, I had a small 2 kilo tub, they had family size but that would be just to much. Next morning is Ferry morning. So, following Mom’s directives I am at the Terminal 17 hours ahead of departure……..its 21 hours if your flying. GOSH she just knows so many things about travel……just amazes all of us. Sure taught all of us how to sleep in airports.
Lamenting that I had not had Kippers yet, the man I was talking to says, My God man, ya have 3 hours till the Ferry comes in. Ride right down there at that window painted blue, best kippers on the Isle he says. I done just that, rode right down, walked thru the hanging chain door and asked for Kippers. Sorry me mate the fella says fut we don’t have any BAPS, not to worry says I, I don’t drink beer anyways. He eyeballs me in that weird “fishmonger” manner, you know with one eyebrow higher than their hairline….its uncanny. Baps he says are just a soft dinner roll, that’s how they would be served on a Sunday brunch. No matter I says, I am trying them with or without. OKAY, so he just nuked them very lightly, flips and peels the silver skin off, reflips and serves them to me – 3 herring fillets that once smoked become Kippers. Now tell me there ain’ta GOD, that’s no miracle of cosmic collision folks that’s FISH as the Master intended. Evolving right before our eyes. They were fantastic, really liked them, and they would be better with a Bare Bottle Brew for sure. I bought 8 extra packs, 3 per pack and sent them to Nevada and Levi, and to Pine and Whitney to try out. They will be good for about 18 days packed like that. Never heard if the box made it.???
Ferry ride was nondescript, lasted 3 hours on calm seas. Off loaded in Liverpool around 6pm, and just went to cycling east bound. This is where my life on this trip began to change, and from this point on, its affect becomes more and more pronounced. But more on that later. There is z fellow, Nigel Armitage, a very popular fellow on YouTube and Vimeo. He is a master stitcher, and his uploads are very informative and brilliant to watch on the platforms mentioned, plus you can sign up for a membership which gives you access to much more of Nigels informative student package. I spent the full day with Nigel and his lovely wife Emma, we dined at a local pub and they made sure that this Yank had a well aged British steak in his belly before he left in the morning. Thanks Nigel for your easy friendship.
The ride out of Burton, was a cross between riding small roads and some of the many miles of antiquated canals that weave thru England. Which brings me to a point about canals. Primarily hand dug of course from approx 1740 – 1800. The canals are typically 25 feet wide by approx 5 feet in depth, they are hand dug then the vertical walls have been rock lined, and the bank edges have all been stoned to stave off edge erosion and eventual destruction of the canal bank. My research shows some 5000 miles of canal had been dug historically, and today about 3000 miles of canal remain in daily use. Every canal has a “TUGWAY”, which is where the heavy horse teams would be walking as they pulled the boats along. Of course over time these canal boats have transformed from simple vessels for hauling raw product, to very ornate oats that are full fledged homes today with every modern convenience…..heck I seen some that had pencils and erasers on board. I can’t tell you how many Locks there are, but indeed there are a bunch. Each lock handles just one boat at a time, and passing thru a lock takes15-20 minutes. The runways today are cycle and walk paths.
My intention was to head over into Wales and cycle some of that area. I even sent and email ahead to. Fellow whom I have only met thru Instagram, Black Mountain Leather Supply, I warned him I would do my best to stop and visit if at all possible. My intentions were good, but the on the ground reality was very different. It was a combination of several thi gs really. An absolute over abundance of traffic on even the smallest of roads was a primary issue. But tired legs, or maybe too old legs were also an issue. I simply could not climb these steeper hills with enough speed to feel safe doing so.
The road to Ludlow, was my personal road to Emmaus. Rock walls lined both sides of the road for many miles, ivy, and other greenery clung to the rock walls and a silhouette of the shape of the average car was carved forever into this verdant green covering. The black top is ruff edged, no lines, and where it ends, quite literally its about 12” distance to the rock wall itself. I seldom if ever counted the 12 count between cars that were just on my lane, and it was every type of vehicle, from heavy trailer type lorries to young kids with Dads car for the first time. One particular climb was extremely tight, and when I finally could pull off on a farm lane entrance, I had ivy leaves captured within the folds of my jacket sleeve, and abundant discharge within my pants. I was officially done. Someday, my children will have children, and I want to see them on that day. Zt this rate I will the picture on the mantle that is always turned backwards for some reason. Here’s our Dad, the HOOD ORNAMENT, they will say to there kids.
I sacrificed and rode back I to Ludlow convinced that I had had it with this trip. Had a flat white tea, and thought long and hard about this whole process and what quitting would mean to my own psyche. It just seemed ominous to me too up and quit. It’s not like I owe it to anyone to either ride or quit, we don’t do this for applause and accolades, it’s really a much more personal thing than that. Several hours later, reading maps, thinking issues thru, I conclude. Several people had already warned me of just how much h traffic I would encounter when headed south, plus you pretty much have to avoid any road that starts with A, even many B roads are to congested. Stay with farmlands was my decision.
And with that, I cleaned my pants, and started my way more or less east on nothing but farm lanes which are given names and not a number designation. If the lane had a number given it, I would totally avoid it. For the next few days, I would ride 30 to maybe 45 miles in distance, only to arrive at the conclusion that as it regarded a linear distance it was barely 20 miles in some cases. Also a huge problem, as you wear yourself out and only getting 20 miles closer to the final goal of making it around the UK. It forced another great debate within my soul. That of achieving the sort of distances it demands in order that you get around in a reasonable amount of time, al with consideration for your personal safety as well. More on all this later, many have prayed for my wellbeing g and for wisdom to be shared thru the people I meet, and Gods gentle hand guiding me. Thanks to the saints who have prayed for me, they have not been wasted.