Crossing the bridge into Wales was fine this time round. Back in 2015 we were plagued with a gusting side wind which left me feeling very unsafe, so I dismounted and walked across. This time it was a steady head wind which made the going tough but for me manageable. As I pushed into this headwind it felt a bit like riding with your brakes on and left me wishing for the conditions on the first time I crossed the bridge, during LEJOG 1, in completely calm weather where I zipped across at twenty miles per hour, thus exceeding the speed limit of fifteen miles per hour.
After the stink and potential dangers of the road to Avonmouth I was looking forward to the long descent down the Wye Valley passed Tintern Abbey and the gentle climb up to Monmouth where we were due to stay for the night. I like this part of the Wye valley with the picturesque ruined Abbey and the winding river with its wooded banks. I have come this way at least four times, twice by bike and twice by canoe. This simple pleasure however was not to be this trip.
From the bridge we climbed for a mile or so in order to get on the right road. On reaching the turn off we discovered a sign which indicated that the road ahead was closed. We ignored it for the simple reason that most of the time you can get around road works, at the worst you have to shoulder your bike and walk round the obstacle, remount and off you go on your merry way. A few miles up the road we came across a similar sign telling us the road ahead was closed. We didn’t pay it much attention and just pressed on in the hope of circumnavigating whatever was in the way. After a couple more road ahead signs, we came upon one which informed us that the road was closed to cyclists and pedestrians. We stopped and held a council of war. This sign seemed a bit too specific to be ignored. We decided that it would be foolish to push our luck any further and that we needed to find an alternative route around the obstacle, whatever that might be (we shall never know).
At the first opportunity we turned left up a very narrow country lane hoping that it would take us in roughly the right direction. The Garmin was of no use as we were of the route programmed into it. The map on the phones, when we could get a signal, wasn’t very helpful and so we ended up following our noses in the hope that we would eventually come across a signpost which would point us the right way. We cycled on mile after mile, mostly climbing and not being sure if we were getting neared to Monmouth or further away. Painful legs, anxious minds.
Eventually we came across a turning onto a main road and the hoped-for sign appeared like a beacon of hope before our eyes. The good news was that this road was the road to Monmouth, the bad news was that it was another eight or so miles. Fortunately, after all that climbing, much of the final miles entailed fast descents as Monmouth sits beside the river Wye and thus in the deepest part of the Wye Valley.
Eventually arrived at our destination around 7.30pm after eleven hours on the road; tough, to put it mildly. However, the hotel where we were booked in for the night was superb and a steak meal and a couple of pints of Guinness revived me no end. Getting the Ribble up to the room to charge the battery was easy as none of the staff could observe what we were up to.
Well today’s little excursion put a goodly number of extra miles on the day’s riding.
Ezekiel's Wheels 