JOGLE May 2011

Monday, 23 May 2011

John O Groats to Lands End - May 2011

At the End

It all went okay. It was a very long way, like riding the "dragon ride" each day for 8 days!

I quite enjoyed being out in the fresh air, pedalling and exploring. I didn't enjoy the busy roads or the wind. The rain was ok, as long as I was off the busy roads, lorries rushing past you at 70mph in the rain is not enjoyable.

30% down and up.

Most of the time I was able to take time out from the fast roads and explore a little. Even though I had to travel further and over more hills the quiet roads meant I could relax and look at the lovely scenery. I even bumped into some "roadies" going for a morning ride, they were friendly guys and took me exploring over their best roads (and hills) and sent me off in the direction of some good cafes and the step climbs of the Cornish coast road. A took in loads of little bays, a few 30% hills and two "cream teas" and returned inland for the busy road before all the lads (who were waiting in the pub) got too drunk to ride.
It may be worth mentioning that the pub they found was on the beach and we had to pull/push/carry our delicate road bikes across the sand and salt water to it. It looked like a scene in a desert movie watching Steve H and Paul push their bikes through the sands to the "Watering Hole".

In search of the Watering Hole.


The Celtic Manor.

We had a good day through Wales: I left the scruffiest backpackers hostel in the Uk in Chester at 6:00AM, got through Wrexham before the world had woken up and into Shrewsbury by rush hour. It rained heavy for a while, but whooshing past all the commuters stuck in traffic made me feel better, especially as I was going out the other side of town and not to the office. My phone battery ran out (nowhere to charge my battery in the hostel) before Hereford so I had to navigate down to the celtic manor using the sun. I felt like an historic traveller crossing Wales in the 16th century (some of the smaller villages haven't changed much since then). I didn't know where the celtic manor was (apart from "above the M4 near the tunnels") and I didn't know any of the towns between Monmouth and Newport so I had a tricky time. I headed south, avoiding the A449 and A40 and rode into Caerleon and up the steep hill to the hotel. I had to stop for a picnic on the grass at the top and eat a "gel" (a little packet of sugary gel which tastes like concentrated cherries.) Got to the celtic manor and the chap at the door parked my bike for me and called me Sir (which was nice). I then found out from the nice receptionist that we didn't actually have any rooms booked. This wasn't great news as the last 16% hill from Caerleon had almost finished me off. I had slept in my clothes, cycled over 130 miles and I needed a bath. I couldn't get in touch with Peter to sort the rooms out cos my phone was dead and he was probably in a cafe somewhere miles from any phone signal. So I left for the pub. My spirits lifted after a curry and a pint of Brains. The sun was still shining and my family (who I had phoned from an old fashioned phone box (60p mind you)) were on their way to visit me. We did get the rooms sorted eventually and we got settled down on their comfy chairs about 9:30 and drank beer at £4 a go. Some of the stragglers who spent 15 odd hours in the saddle came in and collapsed on the hotels best chairs in their cycling gear. I thought that was quite funny but the golfers didn't.

Scotland was a great part of the trip. It is such a wild place: The top bit (JO'G) looks like god started drawing the landscape up there and forgot to add an detail for 50 miles. It's just short grass scrub which the North Sea "pressure washes" every day with cold rain. Eventually though the place comes to life and in a few sheltered valleys I even saw a few flowers. By Helmsdale the hillsides were bright yellow and the sweet coconut smell of the Gorse bush was everywhere.

Loch Ness

Loch Ness was good. It's huge, I never used to understand how they could "not know" if there was a monster in the lake. When you ride past it you realise, it's like the Bristol Channel! It rained on the way into Fort William and a taxi driver beeping his horn at me tipped me over the edge into a road rage (although there isn't much you can do on a bike if the other driver doesn't stop). A few hours in the cafe and three milky coffee's calmed me down, it was also enough time for my jacket to dry out and for the rain to stop. By the time we left for Oban the sun was shinning. The rest of the way, although really windy, was lovely. I spend loads of time stopping and taking photos, (the photos I did take on the bike were not very straight.). There were islands everywhere and the coastline was so detailed, on the mainland were huge mountains towering over it all. Very nice. I took a mental note to return one day and enjoy it properly.

We didn't go down past Glasgow, but instead went across the ferry to the isle of Arran. That was a good plan and avoided loads of busy roads. The wind was super strong that day though. We had a bit of a deadline for the ferry crossing so some guys rushed the first section (50 mile), I trusted Steve's calculations and his GPS and we made it without too much effort, apart from the last 5 mile into the fierce wind.

The ferry terminal.

We got to the ferry port, to find a small bus shelter (although it was fully enclosed and had a door), a small portacabin toilet, a clothes recycling bank (?) and a small ramp going into the sea. The waves were crashing up the ramp by about 10ft and there was a loud booming noise coming from the bus shelter as the wind flexed the plastic sides and it spring back. We all hid in the shelter, I got all my waterproofs and spare clothes from my pack and put them on. I still felt cold. The other guys looked like they were dressed for a quick sprint to the shops (typical road riding gear), most of them where shivering and some had gone blue around the edges. There was talk of the ferry being open to the elements! It was going to take an hour so to cross, maybe more in the increasingly choppy waters. I thought I may be warm enough to fend off hypothermia for a few hours, if I hid under a car or somewhere out of the cold wind. I wondered who would perish first? As it turned out, the ferry did have a room inside and even a radiator. It was fun getting on as you had to embark between the waves which would sweep across the ramp. Once we were onboard and paid up our spirits raised. The waves died down in the shelter of Arran and I noticed that all the guys who worked in the Steelworks were asleep. It may be coincidence, but maybe it was experience and years of practice.

Arran was a nice quiet place. When the huge island mountains sheltered us from the wind it was great. We all met up on the coast road on the far side of the island and had time to stop for chips before the next ferry left. This ferry was much bigger (think Dover to Calais) and we had time for more food onboard. Back on the mainland we had our first experience of busy roads. Everyone split up and rejoined then split up again. Those with GPS' rode off confidently into the traffic, leaving those without unsure who to follow. Ten minutes later I was alarmed to find the GPS route directing me onto a busy dual carriageway. It turned off before we got there but not before I saw Tom cycling happily along it. I did try to persuade him that there was a better way, but he waved a torn out page from the United Kingdom of Great Britain A-Z atlas at me and continued off on a "short cut". I was convinced that would be the last we saw of him. (I think he got in before us that night). We joined some quieter roads and we limped home. A few guys were tired and the road seemed to go on for ever, dead straight over the rolling fields and farmlands. The Royal hotel in Cumnock was great, and the food was excellent. Arnold our rescue van driver had even carried all our kit in from the van, which was impressive as he is almost 70 years old. We struggled to pull our heavy bags into our rooms, got freshened up and went for a lovely dinner.

We stayed in some nice hotels. Peter negotiated some good deals for us in places I wouldn't have dreamed of staying. We stayed in the Langdale Chase hotel at Windermere. It is really nice and well worth staying at if you have any excuse to be nearby. Its in a old building, with proper old pictures on the walls and wood carvings everywhere. There is a big garden for walking about and seats everywhere for taking your book and drink. There is one giant tree there, I came around a corner on the path and realised that everything I could see in my field of vision was one huge tree. It had to be 1.5m in Diameter at the base. The food was great and the waiter was excellent. I usually hate posh hotels as they can make you feel uncomfortable. This place was unassuming and friendly. Top place.
It was a big day getting to Windermere. It was tipping down with rain in Cumnock when we left. I was last leaving as usual and I couldn't put my phone on the handlebars of my bike to navigate using the GPS cos it was raining too much. Eventually I put it in a ziplock bag, but the touch screens of these new smartphones aren't compatible with plastic bags, you can't point to anything accuratly. We had some really busy roads that morning, the lorries would wizz past you push you about. It was really scarry and you had to concentrate hard to avoid falling (and getting squashed). Cross winds made things worse. I noticed two good things about the lorries: 1. They took a bit of care passing you and were aware of how big their vehicles were, car drivers have no idea how big their cars are and most of them didn't seem to care! 2. Lorries generate a big wind which "sucks" you along behind them for a few seconds. If you timed it right you could get ready and use the extra turbo boost to double your speed. If you had a few lorries in a row, you get enough speed to last a few hundred meters. Unfortunatly lorries comming the opposite way had the opposite effect. They also blasted spray at you if it was wet or dust if it was dry. Both stung. I haven't checked my sunglasses for pock marks. I escaped from the busy road for a while and road alongside the river. It was hammering down and my event jacket was beginning to let the water in. But it was quiet on my road, no cars came past for about 5 miles, so I didn't mind the rain. The little roads were great, you could relax and look about. You could weave around potholes in the road. There was some wildlife to spot, (lots of phesants in Scotland and I saw a deer in Devon). You could even sing to yourself (I didn't dare drain my phone battery with music, I was too worried about navigating). One accessory I would take "next time" is a dynamo phone charger. They do exist apparently.

Dumfries:
Riding through the cities felt fine. The traffic moved slowly and it was easy to keep in with the cars. Most of the time I acted like a car and held my position on the road. This prevented the cars trying to squeeze into a gap that didn't exist. I usually stopped for the traffic lights like a good motorist. I watched the havoc caused the rest of our group shuffling out across the traffic, it was easier to wait an catch up later. For once I wasn't late for work, I didn't need to rush anywhere, I had all day.
Outside of the city centre was a little risky. There were lots of cars pulling onto the main roads from sidestreets. I knew this was a danger as some car drivers don't see you aproaching, although I was wearing a very bright floresant yellow top. One girl in a little blue car was waiting to pull out in Dumfries, I could tell she wasn't concentrating, I was looking straight into her eyes so she would notice me, (drivers always seem to notice you if you look straight at them). She saw me so I assumed I wouldn't need any emergency action here. Then she turned to the radio and pulled out! I slammed on. She stopped too, right in front of me. I stopped about a foot from her door, she laughed appologetically and sped off. I didn't laugh.

Cars overtaking and various traffic complaints.
In the bordem of the miles I paid a lot of notice to the cars overtaking me. Most of the time I was on my own so the cars would usually find it easy to get past. I tried to keep moving as fast as I could to avoid a big tailback and infuruate the drivers, but obviously this is impossible at times. I did notice a few things which I will try and remember next time I have to pass cyclists in my car:
1. Don't blindly follow the car in front: I noticed that of the bad manouvers made by drivers, most of them were made by a car following another car. It seemed that the car behind would always try the same passing manouver the driver in front had taken, even though things had moved on by then and there was often no room left. Drivers who waited and passed when they were ready usually made a better job of it.
2. Patience: Some roads weren't suitable for both myself and cars on the same day. (One of us shouldn't have been there: Me. I should have been on a quiet country lane somewhere). On these roads the cars would wait until there was a suitable gap. If the road was twisty then they would be stuck behind for a while. Most of the time there was no way to safely slow down and let them pass so they sat there, getting impatient. After a while they would lose patience and pass in a mad manouver that left them facing the oncomming car. It is human nature to lose patience, but it leads to risky decisions and I will try and give things a little more time in future.
3. Cars who don't pass: Some drivers weren't as confident as others, these would often hang back for ages and miss many suitable passing opportunities. Eventually these would lose patience too and pass somewhere dull. I dreaded these drivers, although I knew they had seen me, I knew they would eventually try something stupid.
4. Driving too close: Car drivers don't realise how much room a cyclist needs. Many drivers would follow very close behind as they waited to pass, maybe a meter behind and .5m to my right. It is so dangerous, there would be no time to avoid the rider if he makes a mistake. Once I was being followed in this way. A bird or something flew out of the bushes which I was being squeezed towards, it flew straight out at wheel spindle height and into my front spokes. I knew there was no way to swerve or brake cos the car was right on behind me! I held the bars tight and leaned back thinking the wheel would lock up as it got caught between the spokes and the forks. Somehow the bird turned in the last few centimetres and went under my pedals instead (and probably under the car behind me). It was a lucky escape for me and I made sure I didn't get "squeezed" so much after that. I don't know what happened to the bird.

With the wind to Gretna:
The small roads through Dumfries turned into the A75 and after a mile I had had enough. I found a great road heading South East. It was called the "Scenic road to Gretna" and there were hardly any cars on it. I was leaning sideways into the cross wind for a while then the road turned East towards Gretna and the Scotish-English border. The wind was now almost behind me and I was flying along. I one point I switched my phone to "speedometer" mode and clocked around 55kmh on the flat for a few minutes. I stopped at the bakery in Annan for my last Scottish pastie and a refil of the water bottles then headed for the border and the M6. I left Scotland at 1:20PM, it had taken 3.5 days to ride down it. I was worried I would have to ride around the M6 and down the A7 but fortuantly Steve had found a way which involved a little road running parrallel to the M6. The road wasn't on my map, but it did exist so I followed it. (Actually that part of the M6 wasn't on my map, it was still the A74 "M6 extension due to open in 2008"). The road had a high fence alongside it that seperated it from the M6. The wind was really strong and I almost got pushed into the fence a few times. The night before Peter had mentioned stopping in Carlisle for dinner, but I didn't know if the others were in front or behind me. I didn't see a cafe stop which I could leave my bike outside unattended, so I continued on and grabbed a sandwich and a milky coffee in the last petrol station on the A595 out of the city. From there it was about 25km riding directly into the wind. It took absolutly ages! The road was busy and there was no quiet alternative. As I left Carlisle I caught sight of some windmills on the horizon, they were going like mad. Hours later I got to Bothel (which I renamed Bother) and turned south out of the the wind just in front of the windmills. I was so glad that part of the journey was over, I was really fed up with the wind. No matter how hard you rode, all my energy just got wasted on the wind. In a car it would have been a trivial 10 minutes ride like any other. On a bike it was hell.
Five minutes later I was heading into the lake district and life got a lot better.