Back Part 2 Home
The omens were not good. Parents started behaving more strangely than normal, bikes began to break, and time was running out. In preparation for cycling the length of the country, Richard and I went to Basildon, approximately five and a half miles away, to get some last minute shopping. Richard’s own bike was ‘Work in Progress’ so he was riding Lister’s bike. I was practising using the panniers to feel what a difference it made. After getting the equipment on our list, we went to the nearby Gloucester Park to practise going up hills. I found it fairly difficult, but I was going to have to get used to it. Rather more disheartening was the way that the pedal on Lister’s bike fell off, so we had a total of one working bike a couple of days before we were to set off on our big adventure.
On the day itself, we couldn’t have had a worse start. Having arrived at the station on time, with three semi-working bikes, we decided that the best course of action was to get to the back of the train, where it was easier to store the bikes, and less inconvenient for the other passengers. However, the train was somewhat longer than we anticipated, and so we raced to get to the back of it, only for the doors to close before we could get in. Having missed this train, we had a rush to cycle across London to catch the next train from Paddington. London was surprisingly quiet and we made good time to catch the train to Penzance. During the trip to Penzance, we started playing cards and started a game that would keep us occupied in our spare time for the entire fortnight.
At Penzance, it seemed remarkably hilly to start with; just coming out of the town centre was a struggle. At the time, I thought that the hills were rather unremarkable and that I was very unfit. This did not bode well for the journey ahead.
After the cycle to our campsite, during which we had to get off and walk a few times, we put the tent up for the first time. This was going to become a very familiar process during the fortnight, but it was complicated by the strong winds. After putting the tent up, we decide to cycle on to Lands End, while the high winds attempted to blow us off our bikes sideways. It was so strong you could almost lean into it. At Lands End, it decided to start raining heavily, so after sheltering in the gift shop a while we went back to the campsite, getting soaked in the process. It was a relief that the site had a tumble dryer, and an unexpected surprise that they had a bar. One wonders how much money the Geordie (I think, but I’m not very good with accents) proprietor made from it. We continued our card game over a few pints before going to bed.
The next day, I changed my opinion of the hills we had cycled up the day before, as we raced back down them. We started on the A30 toward Altarnun. The A30 didn’t seem to be able to make up its mind what sort of road it was, at one point it was six lanes wide but at others, barely two. The hills didn’t seem to be massively steep, just very long. Lunch was at a service station where I managed to demolish a picnic bench just by sitting on it. This service station was one of many, because although the food is expensive, service stations are readily available. Having passed through Bodmin, which did get quite hilly, we eventually got to Altarnun.
Having left Lister to put the tent up, Richard and I engaged in the futile exercise of searching for open shops on a Sunday evening. We decided we should find a pub to get dinner. Unfortunately, the nearest pub was not serving food, so we set off in search of another on foot. About four hours later, we fell upon an open service station on the A30 on our way back. Next day, we set off for Launceston, on the border of Cornwall, where we bought our lunch, which we had later on the A30.After Launceston, the next place of interest we passed through was Okehampton, where Lister bought some Deep Heat as he seemed to be suffering most from the cycling (probably due to his bike being in pretty bad condition). After coming out of Okehampton, I got the first of many punctures.
We cycled on to Somerset where we tried to get a campsite for the night. The first campsite we came to was several miles short of our target, so we decide to press on. This was quite a mistake, as the next one we came to had a “No Tents” sign outside. Shortly after leaving to find the next campsite, Lister’s bike broke. I don’t know what it was, something to do with the gears, I think. Anyway, I got sent on to find the campsite, with a very vague description. I decided that I’d cycled past it somewhere after I got to Taunton, some six mile later and phoned the others to see where they were. They said to cycle back, so I started on my way. They met me slightly sooner than expected to report that the campsite did exist but wasn’t open. We had dinner at a nearby pub where I got IDd. We decided to find a field for the night, and so ended up cycling all the way through Taunton to find a field on the outskirts. Having got to bed very late the night before, we had to get up at five in the morning to avoid being discovered by whoever owned the field we were in. The idea was that we set off really early and got to our destination early to have an early night. This was in doubt from almost the minute we got on the bikes because Lister broke down after about twenty yards. I was sent on to Bridgwater to find a bike shop. Luckily, I came up trumps and found a Halfords. Having made temporary repairs to Lister's bike the others caught me up and we waited outside Halfords for it to open, eating a healthy breakfast of dry cereals.
Halfords didn’t have the part in stock, so we headed off to Bristol, via Cheddar. Cheddar was a bit of a diversion from our route but worth visiting. The gorge itself is quite spectacular and we stayed in Cheddar for quite some time, having a cream tea and lunch, and admiring the scenery. Since we were in cheddar, we all decided we should eat some of the local cheese. However, Richard went a bit over the top by eating a whole lump all at once. Leaving Cheddar was less fun, as the gorge had an 18% slope, and my lowest gears had decided to give up on me. After leaving the gorge itself, we were in the Mendip hills, and they were very scenic, and steep. They did seem to go on a long way though, so when we got to the next main road, we had a quick map stop. It was there that we realised that we had gone off course and cycled across the whole length of the Mendip hills and were ten miles off course. To complement this bad news, there was a bit of pathetic fallacy, as it started to rain.
The cycle to Bristol was slow and hilly, especially for a city meant to be at sea level. I managed to get ahead a bit at one point and waited for the others in the rain. Their delay had been caused by Lister falling off his bike. We had a McDonalds meal coming into Bristol. Normally I’m dead against McDonalds because the food tastes naff and all the pointless packaging that goes with it. However, these were desperate times and it did fill a hole. Going around the Bristol ring road, Richard got a puncture. As soon as we fixed it, it went straight back down. This happened about four times and was caused by the tyre getting two holes each time, rather like fang marks, a pattern which was repeated in later punctures, and never explained. This led to us getting to our campsite at eight o’clock in the evening. This was the first of several scout campsites, and probably the most hospitable of the lot. On getting there, they offered us a hut to sleep in for the night, which turned out to be quite comfortable, as we arranged our sleeping bags on rows of padded chairs. This was luxury. Also they had a ‘free’ tumble dryer (you put the money in, but the bit where the money was kept wasn’t locked, so you could take it back out again).
We decide to have a lie in the next morning after our efforts the day before. Also, we got a nice cold shower (my only one for the fortnight – I’m a filthy beast sometimes). This proved to be a mistake as Gloucestershire proved to be a bit hillier than we gave it credit for. It was fairly steady going until Stroud, where it decided to start tipping it down with rain. We decided to avoid it by popping into the nearest supermarket, a Tescos. Outside was a children’s motorised ride thing featuring the children’s TV series Tots TV. This triggered many nostalgic memories of children’s TV, and the annoying theme tune got lodged in our heads for at least the rest of the day. Cycling out of Stroud toward Cheltenham is very hilly, and we had made it to the village of Painswick, when disaster struck. Richard was cycling along when he pulled over because there was something seriously wrong with the back wheel. Fearing a snapped axel, we pulled over to inspect the bike. After a long time wondering what the problem was, Richard noticed that the race on the back cogs had snapped. This made it virtually impossible for him to cycle the bike safely, so he got back on and carried on as best he could. I was again sent on ahead to look for a bike shop. Unfortunately, I found a shop that sold bikes, but not parts, but I was given directions to a bike shop in Gloucester. I waited for the others to catch up, then cycled ahead again to locate a bike shop in Gloucester. I was again lucky to find a Halfords, where I waited again for the others to catch up. The assistant at Halfords was trying to be helpful but didn’t really seem to understand what we were asking for. Eventually the mistake was rectified, although it cost a lot because Halfords did not have the individual race, but only the whole back cog.
We had the second and last McDonalds of the fortnight in Gloucester, and then set about looking for a campsite. I got to ask a lot of people where the nearest campsite was. The reason I did the asking was threefold; firstly, apparently I inspire sympathy in people (so the others told me); secondly, my appearance, especially when wearing my bright orange cag and highly reflective (almost disco-like) waterproof trousers may have disturbed people enough (slightly more plausible); and finally, I am not as good as the others at mending bikes or putting up the tent etc, so this was a useful contribution I could make.
As it turned out, Gloucester has very little in the way of campsites, so we ended up going to another pub where we played pool, before going to another field. We were quite worried that the field was very close to the main road, and thought our fears were going to be confirmed when a man came over from the other side of the road toward us. Instead, he said that people often camped there, and he wanted to help in any way he could. He even told us where he lived in case we needed anything, and was the friendliest person on the whole journey. The field was very bumpy, but it was free, so we couldn’t complain.