Saturday 10th September - Loch Lomond to Crianlarich

The day dawned wet again, and with only 30 miles to do yesterday we were in no hurry to leave the hostel, and spent a while on the computer updating the blog and catching up on emails. Then I had a quick walk round the grounds, and took a few photos. It's a magnificent setting overlooking the loch. This tree trunk was artistically decorated with bits of bike,


and this was a rather unusual bird box.


We rejoined the cycle path alongside the loch until Luss, where we had a break for coffee and cakes. Two Italian women were skinny-dipping in the loch. Those crazy Mediterraneans. Had to restrain Don from stripping off and joining them.


From then on we stuck to the main road until Crianlarich, with a stop at Ardlui to shelter from the rain and get a bite to eat. The hostel and Crianlarich was excellent, and we spent some time relaxing and blogging before going down to the hotel for a meal. Don gave a definitive rendition of The Two Rochdale Mashers which is now on youtube for the listening pleasure of all.

Songs of the day - Wednesday 31st August to Thursday 8th September

Catch up time, otherwise it will be October by the time you find out what music has been inspiring us as we pedal across the country...

Wednesday 31st August - Oundle to Nottingham
Martin - a nondescript kind of day, just One Of Those Days In England
Don - Nottamun Town

Thursday 1st September - Nottingham to Hathersage
Martin - because we went there Electric Avenue
Don - because we travelled from Nottingham to the place Little John is buried Robin Hood theme

Friday 2nd September - Hathersage to Saddleworth
Martin - because it was Over The Hills And Far Away
Don - because we came across the Snake by Kinder Scout, scene of the mass trespass in the 1930's Manchester Rambler

Saturday 3rd September - Saddleworth to Malham
Martin - because there was a cove (not the Stornoway sort) there Down Along The Cove
Don - because we passed by Rochdale - Two Rochdale Mashers

Sunday 4th September - Malham to Dufton
Martin - because I visited Pendragon Castle and this makes me laugh (warning: it's a bit risque!) Galahad
Don - because we were passing through the edge of the Yorkshire Dales Dalesman's Litany

Monday 5th September - Dufton to Carlisle
Martin - because we got a bit wet, A Little Rain
Don - because he was ill Henry My Son

Wednesday 7th September - Carlisle to Moniaive
Martin - in celebration of the Mercury Prize, England
Don - because he went by train! Train Song

Thursday 8th September - Moniaive to Fenwick
Martin - because Rabbie Burns wrote it and came from Ayrshire, the sublime Ca' the Yowes
Don - same reason Green Grow the Rashes

Thursday 8th September - Moniaive to Fenwick

After a good sleep I had breakfast with Tim, Ruth & Morvern, then headed off towards Kilmarnock. I'd been warned about the brae coming out of the village, but it saved a mile or two, and I was determined to do it without getting off and pushing. It was up there with the Trottiscliffe and Malham hills, but I made it eventually. This rather strange sculpture was in the middle of a field shortly after I set off.



It was a long, uneventful, ride through Dumfries & Galloway and up into Ayrshire, and although the scenery was quite spectacular, it rained non-stop and various bits of me were starting to ache. The new waterproofs I bought in Carlisle seemed to be working fine, but it was a long slog through the Drumlanrig Estate on minor roads, and then along the main road towards Kilmarnock. I stopped for coffee and a snack at Kirkconnel, and met up with a group of end-to-enders, cycling from Land End to John 'o Groats in about 10 days. They had a backup van and one of them had already dropped out with an injury. Our more sedate pace seemed very sensible.

Near New Cumnock there is an opencast mine, and the coal passes under the main road on a conveyor belt.




Later on, I passed the national Robert Burns memorial, but it was only open by appointment.



After getting lost in a housing scheme on the outskirts of Kilmarnock, and inadvertently venturing on to the sliproad to the decidedly cycle-unfriendly A77, I finally made it to John and Susan's house at just before 5pm. Don had spent the afternoon sunning himself in the front garden with the Guardian while I was battling the elements. Hereon our narratives converge again (until he loses me again).


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Vaguely interesting roadsigns of the trip 6

Now I can see where they're coming from but technically a dead squirrel would still be red. For a while. Maybe even redder.


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Thursday 8 September - another rest day

Still not feeling any better so decided to cash in the prescription for steroids given me by the GP in Carlisle.  (John Walker says he hopes I don't get stop and tested.

Walkers Cycling, Kilmaurs, Ayreshire

Headed off with John and Susan to see their shop at Kilmaurs where I enjoyed tea and biscuits with their staff.

 Then had a tour of the business and helped John transport a few bikes around.  Then back to Fenwick for lunch and a restful afternoon, with a look round their new campervan which is very impressive.  Then time spent sittng outside reading the paper , waiting for Martin who arrived exactly 4 minutes before his ETA of 5 pm.  After a tearful re-union (actually I told Martin to go away and come back at the correct time of 5 o'clock!!!) we gave him a chance to shower and change before heading back to Kilmaurs where we had booked a table at The Weston Tavern.  I was trusted to drive the firm's van back as John had to take the car for Susan.

Unfortunately Susan couldn't join us for the meal and in any event had to go to Glagow for choir practice.

We had an excellent meal (but only one real ale unfortunately) and after unloading stuff from the van headed back to Susan & John's to catch up on the TV news before going to bed.

Back in the saddle

Well the beery birdy bikers are reunited and enjoying morning refreshments in the Hungry Monk at Lochwinnoch. Just off to the Erskine Bridge, then up to the hostel at Balloch.


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Location:United Kingdom

Wednesday 7th September - Carlisle to Moniaive

Don was still not feeling 100% so very sensibly decided not to cycle yesterday. We agreed that he would track me by train and meet me tonight in Fenwick, near Kilmarnock. So that meant two days on the bike on my own, without his jovial banter and witty repartee to keep me going.



As my parents live beside Cumbrian Way, which is a national cycle route, I foolishly thought it would be a good plan to follow this route through the town centre and up towards Gretna. I would not recommend this strategy to other cyclists. The signposted route started out fine and took me down towards the castle. It then ended up on the pavement with no clear markings to show where the pedestrians are supposed to go and where the cyclists are supposed to go, and headed off down a back street behind the railway line. When I found myself round the back of the sewage works I realised that something was wrong, and retraced my steps, to find a tiny arrow on a lamp post directing me down an alley, under the railway, and out into the middle of a park, with no signs. I pedalled across the grass and managed to find another sign. This went on for half an hour, and I eventually ended up at the main bridge over the River Eden, which I could have reached in about 10 minutes by road if I'd gone straight there. Really, Carlisle City Council (assuming they are responsible for cycle routes) should get their act together, or not bother with cycle routes at all. It was a bit better from then on, and I was soon in Gretna, celebrating the crossing of England.



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I carried on following the cycle route through Dumfries & Galloway, skirting the Solway Firth as far as Arran.  Without Don to distract me there was ample time to stop and look at the birds on the estuary, although in a gusty wind with no scope this was a bit tricky and I only managed a few easy ticks like Oystercatcher and Curlew.  On the approach to Annan, I was intrigued by a sign promising The Devil's Porridge, but no, this was not an item off the Little Chef breakfast menu but the the raw ingredients for making cordite, and it turns out that during WW1 the area between Gretna and Eastriggs (about 9 miles by 2 miles) was one gigantic munitions factory turning out tons of explosives.  The actual recipe (but don't try this at home unless you're wearing wellies and rubber overalls) is:

Nitroglycerine 48.5%

Nitrocellulose 45.5%

Mineral Jelly 6.0%

It was mixed by hand by an imported workforce of thousands of women just like this:

The only downside to my visit was the fact that when I asked how much the admission was the woman selling the tickets said it depended if I was under 60 or not.  Now I may have aged somewhat with the stress of sharing sleeping accommodation with other men and keeping Don out of mischief, but I don't think anyone with their faculties intact would think I was quite pensionable yet.  Anyway, she made me a nice cup of coffee so I forgave her (kind of).

 

It started raining after Annan, and continued in this vein for the rest of the day.  What's more, with the cross country route I'd opted for (bypassing Dumfries) I didn't pass a cafe or pub, for over 3 hours, so when I came across a welcoming-looking hostelry at Auldgirth I pulled over to get something to eat.  It was closed. I wheeled my bike into the doorway to get out of the rain and ate a soggy gluten-free chocolate wafer.  It tasted soggy and gluten-free.  There were still 12 miles or so till Moniaive so I'd given up hope of finding anywhere to stop, but mirabile dictu there was a cafe just down the road, and I spent a happy half hour with an instant coffee, a scone, and last Wednesday's edition of The Archers.  I set off up the road to Moniaive with the earphones in listening to my last Spotify playlist.  It was good to hear some music for the first time in nearly a fortnight.

 

It was good to catch up with Tim and Ruth (my brother and sister-in-law) and my favourite niece Morvern!  I got to read a bedtime story about a princess and a frog (bit dodgy from an ethical point of view, but she seemed to enjoy it), and Tim and I went to the pub later for a couple of pints and a few games of pool.

Tim and Morvern

Wednesday 7 September - Big disappointment

Enid, David and Martin

Woke this morning still not feeling up to cycling but I have a cunning plan - I'll shadow Martin by train until I'm fit again - I hope that this is acceptable to sponsors.  (We  had agreed at the start that if one of us was unable to continue for any reason then the other would carry on). 

Having already lost a day, Martin needs to carry on, so after breakfast Enid, David and myself wished him  farewell. farewell

Then goodbye and many any thanks to Enid and David for putting up with the"invalid".



















A short bike ride into Carlisle City centre to collect my (still not completely charged) camera battery from Jessops whose charger is held together with elastic bands and sticky tape, my usual double esspresso followed by a couple of halves and lunch in Carlisle's oldest pub, The King's Head. 



This was one of the 363 pubs and 5 breweries which the Government acquired in 1916 in order to control drunkenness.  This was the "temporary" Carlisle Experiment which lasted 55 years until the State Management Scheme was abolished in 1971.

Unfortunately this was not my means of transport north!

Then on to the railway station where I was fortunate to see the steam train just in from the Settle - Carlisle run. 

And so on to the scheduled service to Kilmarnock looking out for a lone cyclist along the way!!

Felt a twinge of regret at crossing the border and into Gretna station at not pedalling through here.

A quick look around Kilmarnock and then a short but very soggy ride to Fenwick to the home of Barbara Morrison's daughter Susan Walker and her husband John.




Granny Susan with Finlay and Grace

  They had two of Barbara's great grandchildren with them and made me very welcome, and I've never seen antics like those performed by their mad greyhound Bonnie!!. 

As Susan and John are the proprietors of Walkers Cycling at Kilmaurs, Ayreshire, John gave my bike gears the once over and fitted a new rear derailleur which should make all the difference (beware of amateurs who think they can build bikes - I put my bike together myself!!!)

After a good meal, a glass of wine and and a shower I had a chance to gradually fall asleep over a computer.

Friday 2nd September - Hathersage to Saddleworth part 1

Little John and Little Don

We discovered that Little John's grave is in Hathersage churchyard, so we left our bags at the hostel and set off to view it. The grave is 11 ft long. In 1794 they dug up the body and it's been calculated that the occupant was over 2m tall, which was quite something in those days.

The original headstone with the letters 'L I' clearly visible





Hathersage's other claim to fame (other than being the centre of the needle and pin industry in the 19th century) is the Jane Eyre connection. Apparently Charlotte Bronte used many local settings in the book, and got the Eyre name from one of the local worthies. We went on a very long bike ride up some very steep hills in order to see the original of Thornfield Hall. Whose idea was it to do that trip before we'd even set off?!

Arrived knackered back at the hostel to collect our bags and set off towards the Snake Pass. On the way we passed Ladybower Reservoir, where the Dambusters squadron trained and the film was made. The ride up to the top, interrupted by refreshments at the Snake Pass Inn was not as difficult as anticipated. We crossed the Pennine Way and then it was an exhilarating descent into Glossop, where we stopped for lunch.





Then on to Saddleworth via the the Station Buffet at Stalybridge and the canal towpath.

Along the canal towpath from Stalybridge to Mossley

Here we met up with my old friend Bobbie Brunt, her partner Dave, and my old mate Martin Stimson. 

We had another delicious meal prepared by Bobbie, a few halves at the pub (including probably the WORST BEER IN THE WORLD!!) and then back to Bobbie's for a good night's sleep..

Don, Bobbie, Martin & Martin (confusing eh?) in the Rising Sun, Mossley

When I got to the border...

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Location:Gretna

Linda and Don's 26th Wedding Anniversary - TODAY!!!

All my love to Linda and thanks for putting up with me for all these years - I think you deserve the 3 week's break that you're getting just now!!

Saturday 3 September to Tuesday 6 September

This is a bit of a catch up as I've felt a bit under the weather for the last couple of days.

Sibling aggression - Alison keeping Don in order! 

a late lunch with Alison and Ivan

Heading for Milnrow out out of Saddleworth my waterproof came out for the first time as we climbed the hill out of Denshaw.  After the initial downpour we had a mainly sunny ride to Todmorden where we stopped for coffee and I indulged in a bacon roll.  A few more showers as we went through Burnley, Nelson and Colne.  By phone I coordinated a meeting with my sister Alison and her husband Ivan and we met at the Punch Bowl just north of Earby.  By this time the rain had become quite persistent and the landlord kindly covered our bikes with a couple of boxes.  Time to catch up on some family news (unfortunately not all good) and another 4 beers to my tally.

Then off to  the YHA at Malham in the rain for a welcome shower and then down to the visit the pubs in the village for food and more ale.  I'm not sure whether Martin's choice of music on the jukebox had a possitive or negative effect on the bar takings!!

Next morning (Sunday) we headed north  past Malham Cove.  Martin was keen to see this, and it is spectacular, but I had visited a couple of times on school field trips and didn't altogether appreciate the climb up.  Cycling down to the main road we hit a particularly hairy hill which tested the effectiveness of my brakes.

Once we hit the main road north I was ahead of Martin (this appears to be the theme, with Martin being "King of the Mountains" but me excelling on the down-hills and the flat).  I reached Horton-in-Ribblesdale and thought it was time for a coffee so stopped at the first pub, left my bike outside, in full view and went in to order two coffees.  Sat outside and chatted to some guys who were doing the "3 peaks".  Also got a mobile signal and had chats with Ben and Alex.  After a while, no sign of Martin, so I rang him and left a voice-mail message that his coffee was going cold.  A while later I left my bags in the pub and, with the necessary tools in case he had technical problems, head back a couple of miles to no avail.  I flagged down a car and asked if they'd seen him, but no!!  So back to the pub to pick up my bags, down a swift half and chase him up the road after a delay of nearly an hour and a half (Briony, make an appointment for him with Robert Doig or Clare Wyman (opticians) when he gets back!!!).

Ribblehead Viaduct

Then off to the spectacular railway viaduct at Ribblehead on the Settle to Carlisle line where a lady stopped her car and gave me a message from Martin that he would meet me in Hawes.  After a pleasant ride in the sunshine down to Hawes it was immediately apparent that there was no chance of finding anyone - the place being mobbed with bikers, tourists, day trippers and locals just out enjoying the weather.  Another half and a sandwich and off to Kirkby Stephen where we finally met up.  During the day my breathing had become more laboured and so out came the inhalers that I hadn't used for over 12 months.  A pleasant ride on to Appleby (the location of the famous gypsy horse fair) with Martin taking a diversion ON HIS OWN to see the  house at Great Asby where his parents used to live.  Then a few challenging hills to round off the day before arriving at the YHA at Dufton,  There was a convenient pub just over the road where I managed to persuade the chef to feed us although they had finished serving food. Today would have been Linda Norgrove's 37th birthday so we toasted her memory in silence,  After a meal and a couple of pints I left Martin blogging in the pub and returned to the hostel for an early night.

I was oblivious to Martin's attempts to get into the hostel after he was the last one to leave the pub.

Monday started with torrential rain which stopped just before we set off.  I have never been bothered when cycling in traffic but the quarter mile that we had to take along the A66 (reputedly the most dangerous road in the UK) was horrendous.  A stop off in Penrith to get advice from a pharmacist and a coffee and teacake (not the Tunnock's variety).  I rang the group practice in Stornoway and  Martin asked his mum to arrange an appointment for me with a GP in Carlisle which she kindly did.

Torrential rain accompanied much of our journey to Carlisle but the last stretch was a pleasant and dry run along a cycle track by the River Caldew which brought us right to Martin's parents' front door.

We received a warm welcome from Enid and David and David took me into the city to Jessops to get the batteries for my camera charged and then to the surgery.

Dinner with Enid and David

By coincidence, as I was in with the doctor, Brian Michie rang me back from Stornoway so I handed my phone over to her so that they could discuss me (not quite behind my back as I did hear one half of the conversation!).  Anyway it seems that I have a slight lung infection so have been prescribed anti-biotics and advised to rest.  I'll decide about the "rest" tomorrow.  Back to Martin's parents for a lovely meal prepared by Enid and off to bed at 9pm!!

Took the sensible decision  to rest up on Tuesday with a long sleep in the afternoon.  This means rearranging accommodation for the rest of the trip and us imposing ourselves for an extra night.

Songs of the day - Tuesday 30th August

This was a pleasant ride through Cambridgeshire & Huntingdonshire up to Oundle. On the way we passed a village green with an old pump, which explains Don's choice. I saw a Red Kite.

The Village Pump at Laxton

Don

The Village Pump (sung by the bloke who used to play Tom Forrest on The Archers, and not available online, so you'll have to imagine how this one goes!)

Martin

Kite

Sunday 4th September - Malham to Dufton

It's not easy to sleep in a dorm if you're not used to it. The bunkbed springs creaked every time anyone moved, so I woke at first light, got up and went for a walk. Another fine day. Having had a very good breakfast courtesy of the YHA, and being full of bonhomie, Don kindly agreed (after some persuasion on my part) that rather than take the obvious route down the valley to Settle to pick up the main road we should take the scenic route via Malham Cove, which is a "curved crag of carboniferous limestone formed after the last ice age". Very impressive it is too. The only problem was that it was up a very steep and long hill, and it took us over an hour to get to the top. I suspect he will never again take my advice on matters of route planning.

He took his revenge by giving me the slip at Horton in Ribblesdale. He was riding ahead, and for obvious reasons it's as well to keep your distance when cycling together, so when he decided to make an impromptu stop for coffee (leaving his bike in full view it has to be said) I was blissfully unaware of this fact, and kept pedalling for another 6 miles until I came to a junction and finally realised that he was probably not in fact in front of me. Now an interesting feature of the

Yorkshire Dales is that Vodafone don't have any masts there (probably the locals won't let them) and there is no coverage whatsoever, so our arrangement whereby if we lose each other we don't turn back and just get in touch by mobile phone didn't work very well. So I waited for

him for an hour, and he waited for me for an hour. And then we both carried on. It was Kirkby Stephen by the time we eventually met up again!

This means that Don will have to write his own post, as I have no idea what he got up to for most of the day. I continued on through the dales to Hawes, which is a mecca for motorbikes (though

sadly not, as far as I could see, 1952 Vincent Black Lightning), and full of cafes and fast food joints.

I stopped for a coffee and to charge my phone. Then it was on to Kirkby Stephen following the Settle Carlisle railway all the way.

I spotted a red phone box along the way and thought I'd try calling Don in case there was mobile coverage where he was. It had not been used for so long that I could hardly get the door open for vegetation, and it was full of flies. Amazingly I got a dial tone, but it didn't take cash, so I had

to use my credit card. Needless to say I couldn't get through to Don.

On the way down the valley to Kirkby I passed Pendragon Castle, which is reputed

to have been founded by Uther Pendragon, the father of King Arthur.

According to legend, Uther Pendragon and a hundred of his men were killed here when the Saxon invaders poisoned the well. It's in private ownership but you can open the gate and go and have a look. It's got a proper moat and everything. And sheep.

I also stopped at the church of St Mary in Mallerstang. This is notable for having the graves of navvies who died during the construction of the (as it was then) Midland Railway. There's a

rather poignant memorial in the churchyard, and a list of all the names of all 25 who died there. The most shocking thing is that nearly half of those who died were young children, so they obviously took their families with them.

Having re-connected with Don at Kirkby Stephen by the miracle of mobile technology (readers will not be surprised to discover that I found him outside the pub), we completed the last dozen miles to the youth hostel at Dufton. After the crowds at Malham, this was a much more exclusive affair, with only 6 or 7 people staying there. We had a meal in the pub, then Don headed back for an early night (I kid you not!), while I did a bit of blog posting. When I did eventually get back to the hostel, the place was in darkness, and the code for the key pad that Don had given me didn't work (maybe I misunderstood), so I had to go round tapping on windows until someone (not Don, note) woke up and came to rescue me. Next morning at breakfast, I kept getting asked if I'd had a good session in the pub, and I don't think they believed I was only keeping our avid readership up to date rather than downing pints!

Generally a good day, and as night comes in I hear a Tawny Owl hooting in the distance. One more tick for me, and I need all the help I can get...

Vaguely interesting roadsigns of the trip 5

Not as common a street name as it should be, probably. And it reminded me that Don had eaten all the pies...