Bradford to Reeth - 60 miles, 6:00 hours in the saddle, 7.5 hour journey time
Left the Brock household on a full belly of porridge and clean kit (thanks Lara) - I was so excited to be off again I nearly forgot my flag and had to turn round at the end of the road and retrieve it. The first 20 miles passed very quickly as I headed north out of Bradford along the Airdale valley, I am sure it should be called Building Society Valley, as I went through the suburbs of Bradford, Bingley and Skipton. All very lovely Yorkshire market towns with stunning buildings and antique shops.
It wasn't until I was in Grassington that I felt I had entered the Dales (if you didn't know a Dale is a valley), classic drystone walls, limestone escarpments, 'Emerdalesque' villages and too many sheep to mention. Never did there exist a more stupid animal than a sheep, ugly too. How can something so lovely and tasty as a lamb, grow up to be something so horrible, I can't stand them - you have to be really careful at speed on a descent in case they run out in front of you, if this happened the trip would be over, the damage would be huge.
I met my first cyclist, he was training for the JOG (The Lands End to John O'Groats) he allowed me to draft behind him and he chatted for a while and took my mind off the pain in my legs. All of sudden 5 miles had gone by and it was time for lunch, I was at Kettlewell.
I was capitally ripped off for a pot of tea at £1.80 at the Cottage Cafe, and had to endure the ramblings of an elderly Geordie lady, who proceeded to tell me every walk that she had ever completed in Scotland, all I tell you, were on the West Coast and of no use to me whatsoever as I was going up the East Coast. I told her this on several occasions I was going to Iceland via Aberdeen and she still didn't get the point, she would say "That's nice for you love, why don't you visit the isle of Mull!" I started to read the writing on the little packets of sugar out of sheer boredom, and she didn't take the hint.
Half an hour our after lunch the hills started, I had a monstrous climb out of the Wharle Valley over the Langstrothdale Chase, this lasted about an hour and then was rewarded with a 4 mile descent through the Bishops Dale - wonderful.
The last climb of the day was the horrific, Redmire Moor, within 10 minutes I was off and pushing the bike (this is not why they are called Push Bikes, this term is from 1818 when the first bike was only a wooden frame and 2 wheels and the rider sat astride and pushed the bike along with their legs on the ground.) I was quickly overtaken by a lady running up the hill, I didn't like this and got back on and endured the pain of the climb. The hill at its steepest was 16%, I puzzled over this for a while (it is amazing how you can distract your mind from pain!) What did 16% mean? Was 100%, vertical or 90deg, or was it 45deg also how did 16% correlate to 1:4 like the hills in the South of England, namely the infamous Porlock Hill which is 1:4, is that 25%? Answers on a postcard (send to me c/o Post Office in Aberdeen.)
The descent was wonderful, if not hairy, at 17% my brakes were boiling at the bottom, and with 10 minutes I was at my campsite (Orchard Farm in Reeth) and into the hot showers.
A great 2nd day - still no rain....yet
Left the Brock household on a full belly of porridge and clean kit (thanks Lara) - I was so excited to be off again I nearly forgot my flag and had to turn round at the end of the road and retrieve it. The first 20 miles passed very quickly as I headed north out of Bradford along the Airdale valley, I am sure it should be called Building Society Valley, as I went through the suburbs of Bradford, Bingley and Skipton. All very lovely Yorkshire market towns with stunning buildings and antique shops.
It wasn't until I was in Grassington that I felt I had entered the Dales (if you didn't know a Dale is a valley), classic drystone walls, limestone escarpments, 'Emerdalesque' villages and too many sheep to mention. Never did there exist a more stupid animal than a sheep, ugly too. How can something so lovely and tasty as a lamb, grow up to be something so horrible, I can't stand them - you have to be really careful at speed on a descent in case they run out in front of you, if this happened the trip would be over, the damage would be huge.I met my first cyclist, he was training for the JOG (The Lands End to John O'Groats) he allowed me to draft behind him and he chatted for a while and took my mind off the pain in my legs. All of sudden 5 miles had gone by and it was time for lunch, I was at Kettlewell.
I was capitally ripped off for a pot of tea at £1.80 at the Cottage Cafe, and had to endure the ramblings of an elderly Geordie lady, who proceeded to tell me every walk that she had ever completed in Scotland, all I tell you, were on the West Coast and of no use to me whatsoever as I was going up the East Coast. I told her this on several occasions I was going to Iceland via Aberdeen and she still didn't get the point, she would say "That's nice for you love, why don't you visit the isle of Mull!" I started to read the writing on the little packets of sugar out of sheer boredom, and she didn't take the hint.
Half an hour our after lunch the hills started, I had a monstrous climb out of the Wharle Valley over the Langstrothdale Chase, this lasted about an hour and then was rewarded with a 4 mile descent through the Bishops Dale - wonderful.
The last climb of the day was the horrific, Redmire Moor, within 10 minutes I was off and pushing the bike (this is not why they are called Push Bikes, this term is from 1818 when the first bike was only a wooden frame and 2 wheels and the rider sat astride and pushed the bike along with their legs on the ground.) I was quickly overtaken by a lady running up the hill, I didn't like this and got back on and endured the pain of the climb. The hill at its steepest was 16%, I puzzled over this for a while (it is amazing how you can distract your mind from pain!) What did 16% mean? Was 100%, vertical or 90deg, or was it 45deg also how did 16% correlate to 1:4 like the hills in the South of England, namely the infamous Porlock Hill which is 1:4, is that 25%? Answers on a postcard (send to me c/o Post Office in Aberdeen.)
The descent was wonderful, if not hairy, at 17% my brakes were boiling at the bottom, and with 10 minutes I was at my campsite (Orchard Farm in Reeth) and into the hot showers.
A great 2nd day - still no rain....yet
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