We had a great breakfast supplied as ever by Julia and Mary, after which we gather outside in the courtyard of the Youth Hostel to pump tyres to full pressure and generally make ready for the off. And thus, it was that the first drama of the day unfolded before we could even hit the road. Scott couldn’t find his cycling shoes and after much searching, accompanied by suitable Anglo-Saxon adjectives, came to the conclusion that he must have left them on the carpark wall at Whalley. Two solutions to this dilemma presented themselves, either he would count his losses and go to the nearest cycle shop and buy a new pair (expensive), or Julia would drive back to Whalley to see, if by some slight chance, the shoes were still where he left them. In the event it was decided that Julia would drive back to Whalley, where we had second lunch yesterday. This she did and found them on a wall where Scott had left them. In the meantime, Adam, Lizzie and myself set off on some tough climbing over the Yorkshire Dales. The pain in our legs compensated for by incredible open vistas illuminated by bright sunlight. Marvellous.
The next drama involved Lizzie, who got a puncture when we were in the middle of nowhere. She had a spare inner tube but none of us had a pump (foolish). Two days of near fatal amnesia seemed to have gripped the whole team, not just Scott. Julia relayed to me after we met up later that day that she had prayed and sang hymns loudly as she drove back to Whalley that Scott’s shoes would still be there. Now it was my turn to cast the three of us on the Lord’s providential mercy. About five minutes after the puncture caused us to grind to a halt, three cyclists rolled up and saved the day. They replaced the inner tube and re inflated her back tyre, so we were able to press on. Now some sceptics might say that this was just a lucky coincidence; I, along with my mentor, Carl Jung, do not believe in coincidences. Or put another way, it amazes me how often it is, that I pray and so called “coincidences” happen.
Eventually we passed through the village of Wray, which marks the halfway point in our journey; and “there was much rejoicing in the land” (Monty Python and the Holy Grail). There is something about getting beyond the halfway point in a long ride which bolsters one’s confidence and belief that the goal will eventually be accomplished even though there is still a long way to go. Scott was back with us, having been reunited with his cycling shoes but the heat of the sun was rising minute by minute and so his chances of making it to the end of the day’s ride were slim.
We journeyed on until we came into the glorious beauty of the Lake District. A friend of mine from Croydon Folk Club, Nick Marshall, who had retired to Ambleside, was at the roadside to meet me, along with his wife. I stopped for a brief chat and he gave me a contribution for our worthy cause (Cancer Research) before wishing the me well as I rode out of town.
The last significant challenge of the day, Dunmail Raise, soon loomed into view. For a cyclist the word “Raise” suggests a gentle incline, however Dunmail Raise is anything but; it is long, steep climb up a dual carriageway with traffic thundering past. Not pleasant riding at all. The upside after this final climb of the day was a ten-mile descent into Keswick, our destination.
So it was that we arrived in Keswick after a long and hard day’s cycling. We found the Youth Hostel much improved since we were last there due to a complete refit after a flood in the latter part of 2015. Julia and Mary cooked Chinese chicken and vegetable stir fry. We then ended the day playing “Hum and Strum” at which I am useless, Julia won.
Ezekiel's Wheels 