Jeremiah Watt Cycling around God's Creation

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.

We hit the beach a runnin boys, we turned those bikes around………well something like that as Johnny Horton sang. We rolled off the Ferry that took us from Belfast to Douglas on the Isle of Man at a leisurely 2.5 hours time frame. Arrived later afternoonish like 4pm or so. I had already bought food and had it packed on the bike, 15 packs of cookies and a tub of ice cream……okay kidding about the ice cream.

Before I get to carried away with cycling antics, I need to tell you about Cheryl and Brian, because they weave thru my next few days of life like a kilim rug. Our meet begins in Belfast as we all sat waiting for the Ferry. A simple conversation, as is usual, begging with a comment about the bike and the direction. Well it all gets turned around pretty quick into a discussion of Trump, Christ, carbon foot prints, Al Gore etc. And I am confused, opinionated, but still confused. Confused because I am not making the mental connections as to, how these subjects and people are connected.

So, as it regarded Pres. Trump, clearly my two new friends had taken in everything the media had dished up as being a truism. I assured them he was not red headed villan in my books. And that what he has achieved thus far from a business standpoint, is well, nothing short of miraculous looking at the stats. Now, about Gore, I was not so kind and gentle. Albert is bag of wind, a catastrophe of thought and theory, a man riddled with negative anecdotes and not ONE SINGLE solution…….oh, and please send $7.95 to help me save the world would be my description of him. We all boarded pretty much amicably agreeing to disagree. I did find out Cheryl is the minister at cute little stone Church in Dalby.

Up the road I go, and Douglas and Amarillo grow smaller in my rear view mirror. Traveled on an A sized carriageway for a few miles. As soon as possible I got off onto the smallest of backroads headed for Injebreck. Which as it turns out was once a fancy Hotel with a large pavillion where folks would come to picnic in the summer. Long gone now, the building is still glorious and the surrounding yard a botanical masterpiece. I know this because by pure God willed luck, I was out of water right at Injebreck…..and knocked on the only door around. A wonderful gal came to the door, Julie Stipple. She filled both my bottles with outstanding spring water, then gave me a tour of what used to be the old hotel. Outside she walked me thru her late husband’s garden masterpiece, with rhodendrens, honeysuckle, lilac and double Rose’s of every color.

A long and winding route up and around Snaefell, I was darn glad for a chance to roll downhill for a change. At least half the mountain top is fully exposed and the wind will RIP your hair out by the roots. Rolled down a mountain bike track for a couple miles, it was pretty rough on old Shirley, crossed a damn spillway and then roared down the mountainside into Thuly a Will. Wow, what gorgeous little piece of the world that is.

Basically followed the creek down it’s very stony path for several miles. Waiting for a junction that would take me north towards Ramsey. Everywhere on IoM, is 5 miles apart, and Ramsey not much further than that.

Ramsey, sits at the north end of the IoM, and faces the north like a rampart set against the mountains that back it to it’s south. The flats that make up the northern tip of the island lay stretched out in front. Its estimated the flats were created by advancing ice flows during the ice age. Who am I to argue, I am just a guy on a bike. By the way, I am wearing normal hiking pants, and lined ones at that it’s been from cool to downright cold somedays.

Backroads, mountain bike tracks would lead me now westerly and south. Balllaugh, I stopped at the Raven Bar to have a flat white and charge a few batteries up. My phone is dying a slow death me thinks, it does not hold a full charge for even half a day if I am not careful. And yes, I do keep it plugged into the hub at all times while riding..

The sage of the Raven Bar, there is one in every bar I think . He is the town’s unofficial greeter, self appointed world and local historian, and all round go to guy for the latest gossip or off color joke. I went for the joke first, then the gossip.. I found out some interesting possible stats about the island, that I have to say over time and meeting others they would seem to be quite accurate it seems. ITo begin with, it’s an expensive island to live on. The highest GDP of all Europe, the 9th largest economy in the world. Not to mention more billionaires and millionaires than you can shake a Wall Street Journal at.

It’s the result of creating a income tax haven for corporations etc. For some islanders, this has proven to be a wise decision, while for others they feel that it has brought an income level that has changed the intrinsic feeling of the island. Hard to know, but I bet there is a double sided blessing to it for sure.

Heavy cloud cover greets me as I roll back the tent door ( I am beginning to get along better with my tent, hate to admit it, but it’s not really that bad) I rode what is left of an old rail line between Balllaugh and almost into Peel. It was fun, even exciting as you ride past sheep, sheep, then more sheep and a few overweight cows. I am not accustomed to seeing cows that appear to be RIB-LESS. They are standing there, almost bouncing, like helium inflated cow-ballons. Its unnatural it is.

Rolled into Peel and it was early so I hit a tea shop, had a flat white and cranberry tea scone. Wonderful visit with the other 7 people who occupied the tiny shop. The morning discussion was about Police work, the dangers of it, and how so nobody had actually brought a pistol to the island. No telling what sort of trouble this could lead to? The citizens of this fIre isle are taught to immediately call FART, not to fart, but to call FART. of course, as a non-islander I am app,ying all sorts of thoughts to this notion. Finally it is just to much, these folks are. zrrying on about the tactical advantages of FART, The superior training ing………..and I am thinking I have never trained for farting, maybe that’s what I am missing. Turns out to be the police Fast Action Responce Team. And be it known that those who retire out of this unit are truly the ONLY ones to have actually earned the title of ……you got it, Old FARTS

Archibald Cox son, he is a world famous silversmith, you should go check him out says the man with but 2 teeth as he sips his fea. Still sitting in the tea shop I am. There is a big display of his work up at the cathedral, just oop the street lad. So I wander back up the hill, and make it to the Cathedral. I immediately run into a gregarious and jovial fellow named Henry as seen center below. To his right and seated is Connor who is a Music major, and specialist in pre- 1700 organ music. He didn’t know a lick of ZZ Top or AC-DC…..music schools these days fall so short on their promises. And lastly is Andrew, a Thoelogy Masters student, and soon to enter the Vickerage. Certainly looked at the Cox display of work, very impressive, not only his smithing skills but also his oils, drawings etc as well. Time for lunch said Henry, will you join us he asks. Certainly. The Vickers house, a multi roomed affair, with several men living within its rock walls. It’s not really a halfway type house, just an invitation to stop and stay should you feel like working for your room and board and possibly while their develope. closer relationship to Christ himself as a result.

As it turned out, these guys also knew Cheryl and Brian whom I had met on the ferry trip over. We had fresh sea spinach, fried, very good. Shaved carrot salad with wild dill and Gorse petals ( which are edible as it turns out ) Sister Margaret’s meat loaf, also very good……..oh yes and French fries. 2 this is I have found synonomous with the island eating habits, TOAST and FRENCH FRIES. I thought Jeremiah has a serious TOAST addiction, but I am sadly la king what it truly takes. Henry as it turns out has a degree in environmental science, and came to the island to open an art store. He found the church work more rewarding and gave up the store front. And by the way he says as I depart late afternoon, be sure to stop in DLby and say hello to Cheryl and Brian for us.

I set out of Peel towards DLby, but its hilly. I had been having some chain skip issues, and looked things over several times to no avail. This evening however it would become k own. The bottom wheel on my rear driller finLly gave way, just hanging by a thread. I was done. Mostly downhill back to Peel, I went I. the morning and sat and had tea in my favorite tea shop till the bike store opened. Got my part…..sort of, it was a used item and did not actually match perfect but got me by. Took a moment to wash a few items before again leaving for Dalby. When I finally did make it, I seen the quaint tlittle rock church right away. Met up with Chryk

And bRian and wwent to there very quaint little cottage to have lunch with them, more talk about Christ working thru us, a little talk about the environment, and then it was time for me to head up the hill and into the forest heading south. Dalby 5o the top is steep…..sorry Brian, I know you said it wasn’t much of a hill, but it is a hill. As suggested I turned of onto a mtb track out today Lashlin, what a great place. You can see the headlands s they call it, the Calf of Man and a great blue vista that is the Irish Sea. Steep hills covered in bright yellow gorse and white cotton ball shaped sheep. Up to the top and turn right and head for Rushen, down thru that and into Ballakilpheric. Turned back notherly at Colby, and rode one of the bigger roads that I had been on, the A2. Maybe 2 or 3 miles, and took to the tiniest roads and tracks I could find. Douglas now lay in front of me, and my time on Isle of Man would come to n end, sadly, but it has to happen sometime.

I have been told that “you ain’t been to the Isle, less ya tried some Queenies, smoked Kippers and had ya some Davidson’s Ice cream. So last night I had the Queenies, which are on friend baby scallops laid over a crisp slice of sour dough toast, then they pour a white wine and mustard sauce over all that. The sauce has lemon grass and bits of bacon in it. Fabulous, and JW is not a fish lover………….I don’t remember where it says it, but I k ow God said eat beef, I made fish for the cats. Today, apart from getting this blog posted, I will find Kippers and dang sure find that ice cream. I am officially having a heck of. time with my new Go-Pro Hero7. It does take stunning images as well as video for me. But the app that connects to my phone is a tedious little bugger and always disconnects or becomes unpaired. And lastly, I was going to edit on my tablet but my tablet OS is not capable of doing such. Job. Apart from that folks, I am feeling healthy, blessed indeed and fortunate that there are some out there praying for me and reading the blogs. Thank you all, and my prayers for all who mY be reading this.

Once again I have been fighting to get the images downloaded off my camera from the SD to my tablet. Finally got that done today, and I think the issues are resolved going forward. So with that in mind, this post will be primarily images. All images have been taken between Dublin and Belfast.

 

So, no trip can begin till you get all your luggage…well, as many of you know, what I was missing was my bike. Kind of a big thing on a bike trip. The airline was nice enough about it, a few rather short remarks on both sides. But in the end we made it. In just one day, I learned to swear in Gaelic…..and apologize in English. I just love that languages come so easy to me.

Camped out in a small grove of trees some 5 miles from the airport. I actually went over that direction to stay at some cheap rat trap apartment that I had found on line. I was told to call again when I got there and someone would open the apartment for me. Tried calling quite a few times and finally just gave up. Threw my gear over the fence beside the bus stop and walked a couple hundred feet out and behind some trees, set up my BRAND NEW tent and went to sleep. Rained all night, nothing new, it seems to do that every night….and quite a bit thru the day as well.

I have been wet steady for a week, I am seeing new green shoots just above my ankles.

So the following day was a day of total mis-direction, that’s for sure. Go here, ……sorry we have no idea, …….why are you here, ……..you need to see this desk, ………your at the wrong desk, …….have you called lost luggage that’s where to start, ……no, o, you need to go down that hall and talk to…….we have it, …….just kidding, …………please come thru here sir for a full rectal scan and pinger frinting process…….that’s a bout how the day felt and went. I actually got my bike at about 5pm from a very nice fellow who actually walked back and done a real visual search. By 8pm, I was out the door, bike fully assembled, and riding north on tiny back roads. Felt good to have frensh air blowing strait thru ( strait thru, I hadn”t eaten all day). I got about 20 plus miles in and it was getting too dark and rain ing to hard.

I have a new tent, it’s made by REI the maker of my last tent as well. My last tent was basically a superb tent except for its ability to stand heavy wind. Needless to say, I really liked it. This new tent is the newer version and the redesign sucks like a vacuum cleaner. I have set it up quite a few times now and can honestly say, if you think it’s going to rain, stop a day early and get started…..yup, it’s that much of a pain. There are a few other things that are really annoying. The inside walls sag to much, mostly because there is no tention across the front quarters of the tent. Secondly, the doors leak like a rain gutter when you open them and the rain that falls hits right at the edge of the sleeping bag. The gear vestibule on each side are large enough they can be seen, but not large enough to truly function for a biker with panniers, for that they are too tight. The footprint or rain stop, all it as you will. Does not fit the tent floor very well, and not enough locations to fasten it down. I do like the color, all joking aside. The color for those of us who wild camp (wild camping, is finding any spot that you feel is safe and secure that is not an actual camp ground ) this tent is a safe green color, Definately not worth the $299.00 price tag.

I write this, was a rather meandering course. From village to village, one tiny 2 lane road to the next. The countryside is a verdant green, and the trees here are just now coming into bloom as compared to back in California where the bloom is over. The houses, while quaint and cute for sure, they are also a much more modern dwelling. I would expect possibly the thatch grooves and white wash calendar shoots we are all accustomed to seeing, will be off on the west coast more so.

Some will say, holy cow, he is in Belfast already. Yup, I sure am……. it’s only like 100 miles so we shouldn’t be so surprised. I have an apartment for a couple days as I sit waiting for the ferry over to Isle of man, my next leg of this journey. For now, I am going to walk a wee bit of Belfast and maybe buy a new stove since I am having a heck of a time finding alchohol fuel to burn…….may even get wild and look at a better tent?..

The trip north to Belfast where I sit now as a write this was fairly flat to Dundalk, but then we done some climbing after that to get up and over into the Lagan River valley that is Belfast proper. Took in the Titanic Museum today, pretty epic really, the size and scope of that is amazing. There were actually 10 completed ships of the Olympic class built that same year that the Titanic was built. +How bout this Titanic story. Violet Jessup, she was on board and survived the sinking of the Titanic. Upon arriving back in England she swore her feet shall never stand upon another ship. She was a nurse, and early during WW1, nurses were badly needed upon the HMS Brittanica, also built by the same ship yard. That ship was torpedoed and sunk…..and again she survived. Pretty lucky gal right there, you can stand next to her in a lightning storm, just don’t let her pick out a ship to sail on.

The Kilts and Shamrocks Tour- commences Monday, May 6th of 2019. If all goes well, meaning that I am not turned into a hood ornament along the way. Then the trip begins in Dublin, Ireland, and the ride starts by heading north towards Belfast. Once we are far enough north to hitch a ride on a ferry I will get over to Isle of Man, ride its length north and then a second ferry to get to the coast of Wales. The plan is to ride the tiny back roads, so the going may be a wee bit slow. In the UK they have these remote cabins or cottages called Bothies, I plan on sleeping in a few if at all possible.

From Wales we ride south basically, a few spots I would like to hit like Snowdonia, and Cardiff by the sea for instance. On into England and further south, heading towards the coast someplace near say Plymouth. From that point we turn to the east now and ride on or close to the south coast all the way round until we hit Hadrians Wall and cross over the border into Scotland.

Before I cross over into Tartan and Bagpipe country, Colleen will fly over and meet up with me in England’s Lake District, we will spend a week or so touring around and enjoying some time together. Once I get started into Scotland, its up around the east coast crossing up over the top and headed back towards Scotlands western coast. I will finda ferry to once again take me back over to the northern end of Ireland.

After blog post 1- all images for better or worse will be my own and not used from the photo service known as Unsplash. The end game is to ride around the western coast region of Ireland and on into the south, where Colleen will again fly over and join me for a week or so or relax and enjoy some time together. It will feel good to pry the cycling foam out of the crack of my butt for a week I am sure. After Mom leaves, I will continue on and eventually make my way to Dublin once again, dismantle my bike and get headed home. I have to say thanks to our very loyal customers who keep our business going and who tolerate my absence. Thanks to the friends and fans who follow along, take a moment to comment and make the whole trip more enjoyable. And I have to say thanks to the Lord above, who sustains me on a trip such as this.