We've done it

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.

Location:Port Isaac,United Kingdom

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.

Location:New St,Great Torrington,United Kingdom

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.

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.

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.

Location:George St,Bridgwater,United Kingdom

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)

It rains in Wales

A lovely morning rolling across Gloucestershire in the sunshine and in to Newent where we found the "Good News Coffee Shop" which, in addition to sharing the Good News in the bookshop, served a first-class espresso (and a Mars Bar rice krispy cake - Matt). Next stop was Coleford, but some big hills along the way. Plump Hill was the first big climb which saw us in the clouds by the top. All made more exciting by sharing the road with some big lorries and negotiating gas main roadworks.









We found Mum and Dad as planned in the Market Square in Coleford and Dad joined the team for the ride into Shirenewton. We set off as the heavens opened along the top of Wye Valley. We sensed that there were spectacular views lurking in the cloud but they eluded us.









We crossed the river Wye in Chepstow over a really cool old bridge and then cycled the 5 miles up to Tony's birthplace. We managed to find the house where Tony was born and stopped for a quick pic.

We returned to England by crossing over the old Severn Bridge which was an amazing experience, not least because the rain stopped. You really experience how much the bridge can move as it carries the traffic, as the entire structure shakes under your feet.









Tomorrow we aim to meet up with our children in Marlborough for a big family lunch, and we're really looking forward to it.


Today's route

Location:Bristol,United Kingdom

The morning routine

Big breakfast, route plan, load up the bikes and we're on the road. Newent and Coleford are this morning's stops where we meet my folks. Dad joins the team for our afternoon ride through his birthplace.

Location:Shannon Way,,United Kingdom

Monday morning commute

We left our Tamworth overnight-stop this morning with the commuters but we had the promise of a more memorable day than most. A quick wave to the animals at Twycross zoo and we picked up a lovely B-road route with some stunning views across the Midlands.

We didn't fancy cycling through the centre of Birmingham so we criss-crossed our way through the gap between Birmingham and Coventry. Being the London-centric souls we are, we were taken aback by the beautiful countryside and desirable real-estate on the way. Better still we found ourselves in a deli with a decent espresso in Balsall Common. Matt started to wonder how many players Birmingham City has judging by the number of footballers wives we spotted.

We carried on through Shakespeare country and then headed west. Before we started today we had planned to ride 60-odd miles the number from the AA Routefinder, but we knew we wouldn't be riding on the main roads so expected a longer distance on more cycle-friendly roads. Forewarned is forearmed as they say, so when the daily mileage went through 70 with no sight of Tewkesbury our target we didn't panic. Then came a road sign "6 miles to Tewkesbury". Good news, until the sign half a mile later saying 7 miles (more accurate as it turned out).

So 77 miles done today, a distance that neither of us has covered in a single trip before, and we both feel better than we have at the end of either of the two previous days. We're winding up the day with a nice Rioja (me) and a Fosters (Matt) and hoping that's the perfect preparation for the Wye Valley tomorrow.

Day Two. Our first big day

Our first stop today was at Hardwick Hall, one of the country's finest and biggest Elizabethan houses, and now owned by the National Trust. But it wasn't just an interest in architecture that took us there, it was the cakes. For I believe that the NT bake the best home made cakes. So Catherine tucked into a chocolate drizzled flapjack whilst I tried the Derbyshire shortbread. Me turning down a chocolate drizzled cake is certainly a rarity and looking back I don't know what came over me. I just sat there suffering from cake envy!



We carried on our way, crossing high over the M1 (it's impossible not to feel smug as you watch the traffic) and on across Derbyshire. Eventually we left behind the desolation of the old coalfield villages and moved into pottery territory. A lunch stop at the Denby factory cafe and off to negotiate our way around Derby. We rolled through the hills (shallower gradients but they go on for longer) and into Leicestershire and our overnight stop near Tamworth.


65 miles completed today and its no surprise that my legs are feeling sore. Perhaps more surprising is that my arms are feeling sore too, but that's due to sunburn. I now have an awesome "cyclist's tan" on both arms which is looks even more ridiculous with bright pink biceps. I am hoping they stop glowing by the morning.

Day one route

Day one - the Tour de Doncaster

The Route to Roots is underway. We left a soggy London this morning and loaded the bikes on the train to Wakefield under the watchful eye of Steve, the very helpful train guard.

Two hours later we'd read the weekend paper and munched our picnic and it was time to get going.

We enjoyed a tail wind as we wizzed east along the Doncaster Road to our first 'birthplace', Pontefract where Matt's Dad started life.

Then it was 35 miles south, through the former coalfields of south Yorkshire and across the Don valley. A few hills along the way and some stunning views in all directions before we came into Dinnington (home of last year's TV 'makeover' colliery band) to put our feet up with a nice cup of tea at our B&B.

All in, 45 miles under our belts ... but the last road sign we passed pointed to Doncaster, just as the first had done!

Location:Sheffield,United Kingdom

Ten years on ...

At 2 o’clock on Saturday 19th August 2000 Matthew Fletcher married Catherine Stock at High Street Methodist Church, Maidenhead in a ceremony filled with family, friends, words and music. Tomorrow we start our Route to Roots, celebrating our 10th Anniversary.

We made some big promises to each other, ten years on they're still going strong ...

I Promise
Dorothy R. Colgan

I promise to give you the best of myself
and to ask of you no more than you can give.

I promise to respect you as your own person
and to realise that your interests, desires and needs
are no less important than my own.

I promise to share with you my time and my attention
and to bring joy, strength and imagination to our relationship.

I promise to keep myself open to you,
to let you see through the window of my world into my innermost fears
and feelings, secrets and dreams.

I promise to grow along with you,
to be willing to face changes in order to keep our relationship alive and exciting.

I promise to love you in good times and in bad,
with all I have to give and all I feel inside in the only way I know how.
Completely and forever.

£4,000 raised so far !!!!!

Thanks to all our awesome supporters the total raised so far is now over the £4,000 mark. We set off in 2 days and are really hoping to get to £4,500 as that will be a cool £10 a mile.

Last training ride

Some pics from this mornings training ride in Richmond Park

 



and the handy reminders on our garage wall!

War Babies - the Roots of our Route

In January and November 1942 two baby boys were born at opposite ends of the country, Yorkshire and Monmothshire. Two years later, again in January and November, two baby girls were born, in the West Country – Wiltshire and Cornwall. They grew up, the girls married the boys and had families of their own. Their firstborns met, married and ten years later decided to go on a bike ride. This is the story of the roots of our route.

Shirenewton – Catherine’s Dad
Roger Anthony (known as Tony) was born to Beryl and Arthur Stock on Thursday 29th January 1942 in a nursing home in the village of Shirenewton, Monmouthshire. The couple had moved to Wales at the start of the war when Arthur, a chemist, was transferred from the Royal Naval Cordite Factory, Holton Heath near Poole to a new Admiralty munitions factory at Caerwent. The family lived in one of a number of Nissen huts in Caerwent, built to accommodate the sudden influx of people working at the munitions factory. Tony recalls family outings on bicycles with his father’s homemade child-seats. Tony is joining us on a slightly more sophisticated bike as we ride the Shirenewton leg of our trip.

Pontefract – Matthew’s Dad
Alan Nicholas (known as Nick) was born to Anne and John Fletcher on Wednesday 4th November 1942 in a nursing home in Pontefract. Anne had come out of the WAAFS to have her baby son and lived with John’s widowed mother in Leeds whilst John trained for Mini (X craft) submarines in Scotland. John’s mother had many friends in the medical profession, her husband having been a General Practitioner, and so was able to arrange for Anne to go to Pontefract for the birth, away from the smog-prone air of home. Nick didn’t see his father until he returned from the Med in mid-1945 having spent three years as commander (RNR) of a tank landing craft; his ears couldn't stand the pressure levels required of a submariner. Nick recalls being scared stiff on being introduced to his father. Although christened Alan, his names were reversed and he was known as Nicholas when his grandmother could no longer bear the reminder of her own son Alan, killed when he lost control of his Blenheim bomber in Norfolk in June 1940.

Wadebridge – Catherine’s Mum
Mary Kathryn was born to Gladys and William Walters on Tuesday 11th January 1944 at the Blenheim Nursing Home in Wadebridge. The couple lived in Launceston but chose to go to Wadebridge for the birth as Gladys’s great friend “Auntie Brownie” (as she was always known to Mary) was a district nurse and midwife there. The family tale has it that Will had a broken wrist at the time of Mary’s arrival – sustained whilst crank starting a lorry with a starting handle. He was a road transport manager, managing a fleet of lorries at the time. Will’s brother and his wife were also expecting a baby at the same time and both mothers wanted to call their daughter “Mary”. As it turned out, Mary arrived ten days before her cousin, Margaret.



Marlborough – Matthew’s Mum
Rosalind Elizabeth was born to Kay and Morris Nicol on Tuesday 21st November 1944 at Savernake Hospital on the outskirts of Marlborough. She was delivered by Mr Tim Maurice, one of the 217-year dynasty of Dr Maurice’s to practice in Marlborough. Kay was living with her in-laws in Pewsey, seven miles down the road from the hospital in Marlborough. Morris was away, serving with the RAF in Bomber Command as a navigator and bomb aimer. The family remained in Pewsey after the war, with branches of the Nicol family still living in the area.

Hi Doc, one of my testicles is swollen.

Swollen, that's what I thought. I couldn't feel any lumps or bumps and to me it felt the same shape as the other one, but one of them was definitely bigger than the other, and probably bigger than it should be. I say probably because a size differential is normal and that makes it difficult to know whether there's a real problem or not. So how should you decide? Of course, the answer is that you don't, instead you go along to the GP and ask them. Now I would love to say that that is exactly what I did, but it isn't. The details of my faffing around are for another time but with hindsight let me say that the correct action is to go to the GP right away and present the problem to a trained professional.

The first 5 minutes of my GP appointment saw me squirming with embarassment as I completely failed to see that questions about my "lifestyle" were his way of asking if I might have an STD, but once we got that one out of the way we got to the point where we agreed a physical examination was going to be necessary. More embarassment as I get undressed but 30 seconds later the GP has called it cancer.

There are four stages to testicular cancer and the stages relate to how far the cancer has spread. In stage one the cancer is contained with the testicle and if caught at this point the treatment is simple and your chances of survival are greater than 90%. Wait until stage four and the cancer will have spread through your lymph system, into your lungs and beyond. By now your chances are less than 50% and the treatment will be prolonged and severe.

So an early diagnosis is crucial to a successful outcome and the screening test could not be any easier. There's no need for doctors, appointments or blood tests, you just need to get your hands on your bollocks and see how they feel. So if you're a bloke give them a check the next time you're in the shower and if you're a wife/girlfriend/partner make sure that he checks them. Its such a simple thing and yet it can make such a difference, so ladies, maybe, just this once its OK to nag.

The MacMillan website is a great place for cancer information and it has sections on testicular cancer and how to examine yourself.

And finally, here is the last ever picture of my left testicle.

Our route takes shape

Day One : Saturday 31st July
Train to Wakefield ... cycle to Rotheram via Pontefract

Day Two : Sunday 1st August
Cycle from Rotherham to Appleby Magna (Tamworth)

Day Three : Monday 2nd August
Cycle from Appleby Magna to Tewkesbury

Day Four : Tuesday 3rd August
Cycle from Tewkesbury to Alveston (Bristol) via Shirenewton in Gwent

Day Five : Wednesday 4th August
Cycle from Alveston to Pewsey via Marlborough

Day Six : Thursday 5th August
Cycle from Pewsey to Bridgewater

Day Seven : Friday 6th August
Cycle from Bridgewater to Great Torrington

Day Eight : Saturday 7th August
Cycle from Great Torrington to Wadebridge

Day Nine : Train from Bodmin to home

Check Up Time

Every four months I return to the Royal Marsden for a check up. It is reassurring to know that you're being given the medical once over but returning to the Marsden, a hospital that only deals with cancer, is good for the soul.

I mentioned this to someone recently and when they asked me why I fumbled my answer. So today I am sitting in the outpatients department waiting for my appointment and attempting to answer that question.

It would of been easy for me to continue to live life exactly as I had been doing before cancer, and simply ignore the whole episode. But if I do that then I fear I will of learnt nothing. It's not that I feel the need to change everything, it's just that I've been given a second chance and I mustn't waste it. I must remember the promises I made to myself during darker days. So sitting here now, in a place that deals with cancer every day, I am reminded of what a great chance I now have.

You're going where?

Being a bit time starved we were looking for a breakthrough idea on how we could find the time to do a decent training ride together when we were presented with one by the Cyclists Touring Club. They organise a completely mad event known as the Friday Night Ride to the Coast; one friday every month they meet at midnight on Hyde Park Corner and then ride to somewhere known for its beach. So last friday they were riding to Bognor Regis and we joined them for the 70 mile trip through the night.

I like to think I have done some mad things but I have to say this one is right up there, it was really magical. The group of cyclists was 70 strong and as we cruised through central London we caused quit a stir, for sure we elicited a few beeped horns but we did always stop for red lights.

As we crossed the river and headed through south London we were cheered on by endless numbers of revellers whose alcohol intake led them to confuse us with the Tour de France. Clapham had become Alpe D'Huez. When we did stop they'd ask us where we were going and the stock answer was "to the seaside!"

Crossing the M25 on a deserted A24 we came across our first roads with no street lamps and that's when I realised my single beam headlamp was not going to cut it. Now, normally on a group bike ride I feel my masculinity is challanged by the fact I have no carbon fibre parts on bike at all. But on the FNRttC the big boys all have big lights. So I acknowledged my lack of manliness and rode in front of someone else and stared at my own shadow. Fortunately for me we soon stopped for breakfast at a cool truckers cafe and by the time we came out it was daylight.

We rode an easy pace all the way to Bognor which is just as well as it was very social group and no one had any breath left for riding hard. We both loved the experience and if you ever get the chance to do this ride you should, but do go and buy yourself a big headlight first.

Our friday night ride to the coast

Our Route from London to Bognor, (or more accurately the route from Hyde Park Corner to the first cafe stop when my iPhone battery died)

MapMyRide - fnrttc part 1 in London, United Kingdom

What's it all about?

Our route ...
We're setting off on a 450 mile unsupported bike ride from Yorkshire to Cornwall to raise money for the Royal Marsden Cancer Campaign's Children's and Teenage Cancer Centre Appeal.

Our roots...
We're riding to mark our 10th wedding anniversary and wanted a challenge that was unique to us, so our route takes us through the birthplaces of each of our parents ... Pontefract in Yorkshire, Shire Newton in Monmothshire, Marlborough in Wiltshire and Wadebridge in Cornwall. We'll cycle for eight days at the beginning of August, covering 60 - 70 miles each day.

You can support us at www.justgiving.com/Route2Roots