After yet another good nights sleep I awoke to shower, get ready and head down for what would be for the time being my last full veggie Scottish breakfast for the time being. I'm not really an expert in the world of cooked breakfasts, and I don't want to start some form of regional dispute, but the Scottish veggie breakfast was delicious (another veggie haggis and oatcakes...), would the English equivalent being as good?
All eaten, teeth cleaned, bike packed and once again I headed off with Sat Nav set up and ready to direct me. The plan today was simple; another 81 or so miles to get to Kendal, trying to avoid too many mountains, cross the border between Scotland and England.....and once again try and enjoy the experience along the way.
Sadly within a few minutes of leaving the hotel I had to stop and try and remove the many flies that I had cycled through......at least one of which had made it into my right eye!!! It hurt a lot, especially given the small size of the fly. Luckily I wasn't too sweaty and with relatively clean hands I was able to remove the fly and carry on.
The first few miles were a continuation of a route parallel to the M74 southwards and whilst I didn't really think this at the time this was the last 18 or so miles cycling in Scotland on this journey. As I cycled away from the traffic on the M74 I was quickly back into quiet roads and a relatively flat route. Ecclefechan was another place with a great name to add to the list.......and before I knew it I had ridden into the outskirts of Gretna Green on a mission to find some lunch.
Gretna Green on a Saturday was pretty quiet, a few locals heading out mid Saturday morning. As I followed sat navs route through the town I stumbled across a Spar shop. Not my more usual Coop, but I was confident that a meal deal of some sort would be available so once I had locked up Red the bike I wondered into the store.
However I felt like I might have stepped back in time ever so slightly, the choice of crisps (Bobby's) was slightly different to anything I'd seen for a while.....but once I had located the sandwiches in a small fridge at the back of the store I stumbled across the absolute highlight of the Spar shop in Gretna Green......something on reflection I should now head off and submit a google review such was the quality of the offer.
It was almost as if a light was shining down from heaven, or from the ceiling tiles at least, because there on the counter only a metre or so to one side of the till was a glass fronted counter with an incredible selection of freshly baked cakes. It almost appeared as if this display counter was quite possibly in the wrong shop because it didn't match anything else in the slightly tired looking Spar shop in Gretna Green.
After an excellent cooked breakfast I didn't feel the need to choose a large selection of these cakes to fuel the rest of my day, but a large slice of chocolate pizza was added to the sarnies / crisps / flapjack and Irn Bru I had placed in my basket. Once I had paid I then had to take a little while to get everything packed away on the bike.
Less than 5 miles later I decided to stop for a quick pit stop, so was able to try the chocolate pizza slice (bit like a cheesecake base, rocky road topping plus a drizzle of icing ....) and my last Irn Bru from Scotland. Now fully loaded with sugar (and possibly other more essential nutrients...) I set off to continue the journey towards the Lake District. I should also go back approximately 4.5 miles to note that I crossed the border between Scotland and England as I cycled out of Gretna Green.....a small sign welcomed me to Cumbria, and on I went. No crowds had gathered, no fanfare....just how I like it!
Sat Nav once again guided me on my way and I soon found myself cycling around the city (town maybe - note to self, improve blog / cycle journey research!) of Carlisle. Whilst I apologise to my parents now, my Dad specifically for my general lack of geographical knowledge, whilst I was relying on Sat Nav for guidance I had done very little research for these last two days of the ride heading first to Kendal and then on to Liverpool. This lack of research meant that I was riding with a sense of mountain related fear......my childhood recollection of the Lake District was a beautiful place full of mountains, and even after a week of cycling my fitness levels might be tested as I cycled through / over the Lake District.
My relationship with Sat Nav was pretty good at this point, so obviously she realised my concern and continued to guide me onto quiet but relatively flat roads. From Carlisle I headed to the beautiful village of Dalston where I was guided through some historic industrial buildings, alongside a stream.....it was all very peaceful and once again I was fully immersed in the moment. On the horizon, in almost every possible direction I might be cycling in over the next couple of hours there were very clearly mountains in my way.
As I continued south from Dalston I can only describe the country as Postman Pat like. For those of a certain age, like me, Postman Pat delivering post and helping the people of Greendale was part of your childhood TV viewing, and whilst I apprecaite that Greendale might have been set in North Yorkshire, not Cumbria or the Lake District, Pat drove his van up and down some hills on his rounds.
My cycle for at least the next ten miles or so was exactly the same, all very curvy hills to climb and steep hills to descend then straight back up another hill to climb.... repeated again and again. At one point I stopped to put on my rain jacket - my first real rain of any sort on the journey so far, but within 15 minutes the shower had passed, rain coat packed away again and I continued up and down these hills.
As I write this blog with a google map to refer to I see that my cycle route which remained close to the M6 was slightly east of the Lake District, so a view towards the mountains including Hellvelyn was about as close as I got to the heart of the Lake District, and as I joined the A6 towards Kendal I was almost lulled into a sense that I had missed out on all the climbing I could have suffered.
Sadly though this wasn't quite the case; as I headed along the A6 with a sense that I only had around 20 miles to go until I reached Kendal and my overnight stop, I arrived at Shap. Shap is a relatively small village / town around the A6 (or quite possibly a small village / town that has been cut in two by the A6) . Nothing major to report here, but Shap is the last stop before a long climb over Shap Fell / Shap Pass over which the A6 climbs and then descends.
Being a main road there was a reasonable amount of traffic, and a reasonably wide road. Dropping down a few gears I was about to fully exploit the calories consumed earlier as the first stretch of climb was attempted. Main road in this case equals reasonable gradient, making the climb pretty long but pretty consistent. As I reached the top I was about to congratulate myself for getting to the summit of a mountain for the second time on the adventure only to spot that I'd only actually completed the first half of the climb as the road appeared in front of me to continue upwards.
Quick stop for a photo and a drink of water and off I set again; once again climbing the gradual gradient until I reached the top.....only for a second time to realise that I hadn't actually got to the top as the A6 continued to climb ahead of me further up the pass. The elevation was high enough for warning signs about snow and a refuge point being available which were both firsts on my cycling adventures, so once again I dropped down a gear and continued to climb up the road.
Luckily this third stretch of climb got me to the top - 1397 feet / 425 metres / 1 mountain ! Unlike earlier climbs along this cycling adventure this climb was pretty manageable. It was a long climb on the bike, but a gradual gradient compared to the far more brutal climb on day two, but at the same time my level of fitness had improved, and lastly the weather was more normal (aka a bit cloudy) making the energy sapping heat no longer a factor.
From the top I then descended hoping that the payback of 1397 feet of elevation was going to be a long descent, which it was until I encountered a second far smaller climb back up to another summit followed by a long descent into Kendal which probably lasted for four or five miles, an almost perfect end to the day on the bike.
Almost...... after a quick stop to pick up some food and a couple of gifts (more on this later) I cycled through the town centre of Kendal, onto a cycle path and on towards my stop for the night, the Station Inn at Oxenholme. This involved a last climb uphill past the train station and finally stopping at the Inn. The blog so far hasn't made much reference to days of the week or any specific dates that this journey was undertaken, but my arrival here at the Station Inn was the Saturday before Fathers Day and I was not the only person at the Inn, in fact the car park, bar, restaurant and hotel was pretty full of fathers (and families) undertaking an early Fathers Day celebration!
Once checked in, with the bike joining me in my spacious room for the night I showered and refreshed once again headed over to the bar hoping I might be able to get some dinner. Very kindly I was allowed to queue jump, placed a food order and enjoyed my dinner in the corner of the bar whilst everyone else (and it was very, very busy ) was placing orders and being told the kitchen was very, very busy. Once again, and in all honesty I don't know why, I was given excellent treatment by the staff , an experience I had received everywhere I had travelled over the previous week or so.
Its easy to only hear people complaining, but for almost 550 miles of cycling I had been really well treated by everyone I had encountered which was, and in fact is really reaffirming that actually most people are good, customer service is alive and kicking and as a lone traveller on this adventure made the journey less lonely. After dinner I returned to my room to encounter the first example of people being less than good.
The wooden construction of the hotel part of the Station Inn meant that noise travelled easily - as people came in and out of their rooms or ran up or down the wooden stairs I was able to tell through the resonance their feet on wood provided. Not a big issue after lots of fresh air, exercise and dinner but I was awoken by someone feeling a little "delicate" as they visited their bathroom a few times between 2 and 5am!!!
We've probably all been there (and I am not going to moan or make too big a deal of what I encountered) but it wasn't quite the restful nights sleep I was hoping for before my last day on the bike to Liverpool.....but more of that next time, in between someone else visiting the bathroom I tried to get a bit of sleep ready for the adventure ahead.