Sunday, 8 August 2010
Saturday, 7 August 2010
We're nearly there
Our route to roots is very nearly done. We're enjoying one last caffeine shot sitting high on the hills looking across Cornwall with five miles to go into Wadebridge, our final root.
We've had a great morning's ride despite some heavy showers (feet have been waterlogged since 8.30 this morning). After yesterday's struggles we made an early start and did some careful route planning. Holsworthy, Canworthy Water, Davidstow, Delabole and on to Wadebridge.
Plenty of hills again today but we've taken them in our stride. We haven't seen many bikes, and have been greeted by looks of bemusement by the locals in the hilltop villages.
North Cornwall is the place I identify most as my roots, generations of Mum's family have lived here. It's been really weird to find myself here having arrived by bike.
Matt reckons it must be downhill from here - being on the highest hilltop for miles and Wadebridge being in the valley. I'm always sceptical there's another hill hiding somewhere.
It's been a monster trip, a great way to see the country and a huge achievement. It's been hard at times (it was meant to be) but great fun too.
We've had a great morning's ride despite some heavy showers (feet have been waterlogged since 8.30 this morning). After yesterday's struggles we made an early start and did some careful route planning. Holsworthy, Canworthy Water, Davidstow, Delabole and on to Wadebridge.
Plenty of hills again today but we've taken them in our stride. We haven't seen many bikes, and have been greeted by looks of bemusement by the locals in the hilltop villages.
North Cornwall is the place I identify most as my roots, generations of Mum's family have lived here. It's been really weird to find myself here having arrived by bike.
Matt reckons it must be downhill from here - being on the highest hilltop for miles and Wadebridge being in the valley. I'm always sceptical there's another hill hiding somewhere.
It's been a monster trip, a great way to see the country and a huge achievement. It's been hard at times (it was meant to be) but great fun too.
Location:Port Isaac,United Kingdom
Friday, 6 August 2010
It's time to break out the pink wafers
There is a tradition when Matthew and I hit the big challenges on our little adventures (mountain trekking, child-birth etc) of breaking out the pink wafers, and today, it was time for pink wafers on the Route to Roots. It was an inauspicious start when we both winced our way down the stairs of the B&B this morning, our legs showing the strain after nearly 400 miles pedalling. 65 miles across the Quantock Hills and Exmoor nearly defeated us. With 5 miles to go to our Great Torrington stop, the second 25% hill climb was more than I could manage, especially with the traffic whizzing past at 60 miles per hour.
To be precise, it was the half mile downhill on a 25% gradient between the two climbs that finished me off, my hands ached from pulling my brakes on to the max to try to keep the bike speed down to 20 mph and my sense of enjoyment on this holiday of a lifetime evaporated as I was certain a pothole or passing tractor would result in a sticky end.
We turned off the main road and came slowly and carefully through the lanes, dodging a couple of frisky goats and some chickens finally rolling in to town at 6.30, nine and a half hours after we started out.
So here we sit in a pub full of locals, looking like a right pair of "down from town"-ers writing our blogs on our iPhones glad to have got the end of Day 7.
Not enough phone signal to post the pics tonight so just text.
To be precise, it was the half mile downhill on a 25% gradient between the two climbs that finished me off, my hands ached from pulling my brakes on to the max to try to keep the bike speed down to 20 mph and my sense of enjoyment on this holiday of a lifetime evaporated as I was certain a pothole or passing tractor would result in a sticky end.
We turned off the main road and came slowly and carefully through the lanes, dodging a couple of frisky goats and some chickens finally rolling in to town at 6.30, nine and a half hours after we started out.
So here we sit in a pub full of locals, looking like a right pair of "down from town"-ers writing our blogs on our iPhones glad to have got the end of Day 7.
Not enough phone signal to post the pics tonight so just text.
LEJOG
We are now riding along the official cycling route from Lands End to John O'Groats ( LEJOG when you're in the know) so there's a chance to say hello to other riders of pannier clad bicycles. The best encounter so far occurring in a small town this morning when we pulled up outside a cafe at the same time as a young girl whose panniers were clearly carrying more kit than ours and also had a tent strapped on the top.
We sat outside the cafe, Catherine with a double espresso and me with a cappuccino that had a very generous helping of chocolate sprinkles on top alongside a very gooey flapjack.
Our rider friend meanwhile eschewed the cafe and instead sat on the nearby bench and assembled a small meths cooker she pulled from her bike and started to cook up some rice.
Really, it was enough to make a chap choke on his cappuccino froth. All I could do was sit there in stony silence looking like a complete part-timer, munching on my flapjack and contemplating membership of the bloody prawn sandwich brigade.
We sat outside the cafe, Catherine with a double espresso and me with a cappuccino that had a very generous helping of chocolate sprinkles on top alongside a very gooey flapjack.
Our rider friend meanwhile eschewed the cafe and instead sat on the nearby bench and assembled a small meths cooker she pulled from her bike and started to cook up some rice.
Really, it was enough to make a chap choke on his cappuccino froth. All I could do was sit there in stony silence looking like a complete part-timer, munching on my flapjack and contemplating membership of the bloody prawn sandwich brigade.
Thursday, 5 August 2010
A bonus root
Although not on the official itinerary we passed through my birthplace today, Shepton Mallet. I left when I was 10 years old and haven't been back since so I was really looking forward to seeing our old house and my first school.
Seeing our old house was particularly cool as it meant we had to cycle down the road where I first learnt to ride a bike.
Finding my old school was a bit harder as I wasn't so sure where it was. We pottered slowly down a lane until we came across a building that had the same shape as the one I remembered, but was only about half the size and was clearly not a school any more. There was, however, a lovely lady in the old playground who happily confirmed that we were in the right place and that they had converted the school into their home, some 10 years ago. The change in size was just the difference in perspective that thirty years of growing up brings.
Seeing our old house was particularly cool as it meant we had to cycle down the road where I first learnt to ride a bike.
Finding my old school was a bit harder as I wasn't so sure where it was. We pottered slowly down a lane until we came across a building that had the same shape as the one I remembered, but was only about half the size and was clearly not a school any more. There was, however, a lovely lady in the old playground who happily confirmed that we were in the right place and that they had converted the school into their home, some 10 years ago. The change in size was just the difference in perspective that thirty years of growing up brings.
And the west wind did blow
Just enough cloud cover to keep the temperature pleasant for riding and plenty of blue patches to make for beautiful views today, but you know it's bad news when you have to pedal hard down the hills. We headed west for 66 miles into a strong headwind skirting Salisbury Plain and on into Somerset.
A better day for photos today and some stunning landscapes - the payback for the climbs has been pretty spectacular. Here are a few tasters.
A better day for photos today and some stunning landscapes - the payback for the climbs has been pretty spectacular. Here are a few tasters.
Location:George St,Bridgwater,United Kingdom
Wednesday, 4 August 2010
And it pours in England
Today we started and finished our ride wearing short sleeves and sunglasses, but boy was the weather different in the middle. We rode into Wiltshire during a complete downpour that caused horrendous riding conditions. The road was awash with water and it was like riding through a river. As each car or lorry passed it threw a wave of water over us, these waves might not have been Southern Ocean size but I did watch one go over Catherine's head (I ducked of course).
Driving us on through the rain was the knowledge that our children, Daniel(5) and Toby(3) would be waiting for us in Marlborough, ready to wave the flags they had made whilst staying with Grandma. (The flags were supposed to be a surprise but the boys were so excited they'd let slip the secret on the phone the night before).
Marlborough is my mum's birthplace so that's three out of four 'roots' complete. Tomorrow we head for Cornwall where the challenge continues as there will be harder hills and a forcast of more rain. So time to end on some words given to me by someone who knew something about persistence:
Nothing in the world can take the place of persistence.
Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent.
Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb.
Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts.
Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent.
(posted on Thursday when we returned to a land with modern comms)
Driving us on through the rain was the knowledge that our children, Daniel(5) and Toby(3) would be waiting for us in Marlborough, ready to wave the flags they had made whilst staying with Grandma. (The flags were supposed to be a surprise but the boys were so excited they'd let slip the secret on the phone the night before).
Marlborough is my mum's birthplace so that's three out of four 'roots' complete. Tomorrow we head for Cornwall where the challenge continues as there will be harder hills and a forcast of more rain. So time to end on some words given to me by someone who knew something about persistence:
Nothing in the world can take the place of persistence.
Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent.
Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb.
Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts.
Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent.
(posted on Thursday when we returned to a land with modern comms)
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