Take me to the station and put me on a train

THW Big Borders tour - Newcastle to Durham to London, 17 June 2007

Last day, I'm a little sad to go home but I guess I'm also ready too. I would like a nice night's sleep and my own stuff again. We can go inland today or around the coast. Everybody seems happy with the inland option so we mark up the maps for that then. We don't really have breakfast stuff so we have to find somewhere out to eat. Ian seems keen on the train station so we go down there. The cafe is attached to a large lounge/ballroom. It was rather shiny inside and ornate and everything. Not sure if I like it or not but it was interesting.

We order like 12 bacon sandwiches and sit and wait for the overwhelmed staff to sort that one out while we discuss maps and options. Matt wants to take his own route so that he can visit people on the way so we leave him to that.

Back at the hostel, we assemble, wheel the bikes out front and pack it all up. Gursh heads down to the station to take his train back home and the rest of us head down to the river to ride around on the bridges. We go past the castle, fairly small, I'm not sure if it has a name so it must just be the Newcastle castle. Or maybe it is just New Castle. Anyways, over the Gatehead Millennium Bridge and then a loop back over the Tyne Bridge and we head down the path heading west along the river.

There are lots of informational plaques about the history of the river and the industries. The river seems low, it must be low tide and there are a few wading birds, but not all that many. It is vaguely pretty but not so much. We turn south and Rob gets another puncture and Dave A stays with him to help fix it and keep him company as we head on. Packs and packs of guys on mountain bikes pass us coming back into the city. It was sort of like last weekend on the east coast, 98% guys out biking. They are pretty muddy and they are already heading home before even 11 am. They must have gotten an early start.

Much of the path today is old rail lines and it is slightly dull. Mostly under cover of trees, mostly upward until Consett and slightly downhill into Durham. There are loads of gates to go through and they also have the annoying habit of having a steep short uphill and a downhill right before crossing any road.

So, blah blah, nothing real exciting until Consett. Dave and Rob catch up with us there and we go in search of food. (Need to just cut and paste that phrase everywhere in these things too.) We make the wrong choice and head down the hill where it says services 200 meters, but nothing down there was open and we had to head back up to get into the center of town. Which is actually a park and there isn't anything there either. More wandering around, up more hills and eventually we come across a cafe that is open for a Sunday like the first time in its history. I'm so tired of bacon by this point, I get an omelet instead of a bacon sandwich. Probably a much better choice.

We try to figure out where we are in town and think if we just go that way, we can bypass a bit of the trail, and where we would have to backtrack and cut off a little bit of it all. Half of us have train tickets for a train leaving a bit before 5 and the other half at after 5, so we don't have a lot of time to mess around. Our lead group completely misses the turnoff back onto the trail and end up on a rather busy A road. But it is incredibly fast and we zoom down the sleep hill and wander though Lanchester trying to find where we can meet up again with them.

So, again, not an overly exciting trail, very same-ish and I'm disappointed that we come into Durham without a fantastic vista of the castle and cathedral way up high. It seems like that from the other side on the train, but not here. Zoom to the station and both groups have enough time to catch their trains. I'm with the later group and we have just a bit over an hour to zip through town quickly and see what we can see and pick up some food. The cathedral seems like the logical place to head, up the steep narrow streets and there we are. It is a pretty good one. But since we have bikes to watch over and limited time, two groups get allocated about 15 minutes to run around and see what they can see.

My camera card ran out of room so I stay behind for the first shift and root though my bag looking for my other one before it is my turn. So, a quick run through of it and then off to find something we can take on the train to eat and we make it to the station with a little bit of time to spare.

Luckily there is no hassle about the bikes this time. The conductor is pretty friendly and he says he rides to work most days, even up that super steep hill. So, loaded on and heading back to London now. Which is probably a good place to leave this then. 38.42 miles for the day and 457.91 miles for the entire tour.

Thanks go to Dave A and Caroline for their fantastic organization skills and all the work they put into pulling it all off. It was a fantastic time and I'm glad I went on the trip. And I'm looking forward to whatever one there will be next year.

Foggy Mountain Breakdown

THW Big Borders tour - Alnwick to Newcastle, 16 June 2007

So, hopefully a better day today. It does seem somewhat promising. It looks foggy in the morning but it doesn't look like it is raining. There are some different plans, either riding all the way to Newcastle or trains from some of the intervening stations. But I suppose unless you take the train from Alnmouth (only like a few miles away), none of the other ones save you much distance. And the day turns out to be a much sunnier one. Ahh, and swimming too helps my spirits.

Breakfast, served in the main dining room, yet another full English breakfast day. The guy scurries about bringing more tea, more toast, more tea again, etc. But enough, time to go then. Alnwick has what is supposed to be the biggest used book store in England or something. I'm sure that would be nice but not sure I want to do that when I would have to carry everything and don't really have enough time to look around properly. (Besides, it probably nowhere near as amazing as Powells in Portland, OR.)

I kind of want to set off on my own too. There is a castle to see in Warkworth and we are supposed to meet up in Newbiggin by the Sea for lunch (one of the most wonderful cafes in the world on Caroline's research list), so whatever happens, I know where that is and how to get there and all that. Many times, it is nice to just follow behind somebody who knows where they are going, just along for the ride, but it is also nice to find your own way through it all. I'm still feeling a bit anti-social and want to wander on my own and find my own way for a while.

The only strange part is getting out of Alnwick. I'm slightly confused by it all, there are a few confusing choices but I figure if I follow the signs to Shilbottle, the worst that can happen is I'll be a mile or so off course. But I think I navigated just right and the turns in the road match what I expect from the map. I love the fog. It isn't raining either, which is really nice. The roads and the hills disappear off into the distance in the mist. It isn't an overly difficult ride and I make it to Warkworth.

The castle is off up in the distance. The town seems quite cute. The castle isn't quite as dramatic as the other ones, but there is a whole lot more of it. Going through the gate, I see that Matt's bike is already there. Wonder how he got past me, he must have taken a slightly different road since I didn't see him go past.

The keep I assume was pretty rebuilt, almost all of it is still there. It is a pretty neat design too, it is all clustered around a central light well. I assume it would still be fairly dark most of the time but that probably helped quite a bit. I click across the stone floors, climbing up to the upper stories and see the new view from the upper windows. Others arrive and I want to at least walk some of the way to the hermitage before I go. It looks kind of involved to get there, taking a boat across the river, so I don't do much more than kind of look at the river and in the general direction. I guess I'm about ready to go then.

Amble isn't far down the road and has a segregated path so I can slowly ride along and look at the river and the harbor. Going through Amble itself is a little confusing. The signs seems to have stopped so I just kind of head towards the ocean and figure if I follow that around, it will take me where I need to be eventually. The plan works pretty well and into Hauxley Nature Reserve. Hmm, warm day out, the ocean is right there, I probably have about 30 minutes on most everybody else, I start plotting a swim as I head through Druridge Bay.

One likely spot is filled with ramblers eating and drinking so I keep going. Slightly further down looks perfect. I can stash my bike in the grass and dunes and change there and the beach looks pretty deserted. Well, it is so foggy too, you can barely even see the water from up here. The water looks a bit rough and this is the North Sea too, that might be a bit cold. But I'm determined.

Changed and ready to go, I run down and jump in. Ok, I wade in just a tiny bit and then walk out a bit further, avoiding the large rocks underneath and then flop around in it all and get hit by some pretty big waves. Wow, that is breathtakingly cold. I don't really last all that long but I'm glad I did it. Funny, as I'm just starting to come out of the water, I see like a small car park just further down the coast and everybody pulls up and looks out over the water. I wonder if they can see me here. Or just think some crazy person is in the water. They hang out a bit and then move on. I still have to dry off and change back and that takes a little bit of time.

My swimming mission done and a bit behind everybody now and ready for lunch, I speed on to see if I can possibly catch up. The pretty parts start to petter out. Around a power station and a metal mill, you know you are approaching civilization when you pass the first burned out patch on the ground from a burned out car. And a syringe by the side of the road. Civilization, ho!

On to Newbiggin and everybody else is just queueing up for lunch in the cafe. The place is pretty funky, lots of 60s/70s type stuff, but I'm not exactly sure what makes it, in the words of one cafe reviewer, like the best cafe ever. A sandwich and tea. I'm rather disappointed when I miss the last of the berry/apple pie and just have to have plain apple pie.

Onward again, with the rest of the group this time. Another power station and Blyth seems a bit bleak. The wind farm and pier area is kind of nice but I'm not overly excited by Blyth. We come to Seaton Sluice, which is a pretty clever channel, an opening on one side and another one blasted through a hill, so the tide will wash out the silt keeping the channel clear. Onward, down past St Mary's lighthouse, which is barely visible with the fog.

Whitley Bay has yet another one of the highly wonderfully reviewed cafes. I'm mostly amused by the staff, who all seems under 18 and seems highly bored. As we leave, they lock up the cafe and pull down the shades. We go past surfers in Tynemouth, taking advantage of the rather rough waves. The castle and priory ruins look nice on the hill, but there is no time to stop and look at them. We head inland and follow the path along the Tyne.

Part of the rest of this route to Newcastle is pretty decent and pretty but so much of it is that whole mixed bag of Sustrans stuff, confusing mazes of turns, back alleys covered with broken glass, and other strange things like that. We go past what I think is the eastern end of Hadrian's Wall at Segedunum. There was a bit of wall sticking out into the path. But a few more miles and into Newcastle itself.

I'm not sure there was all that much in Newcastle that seemed all that interesting to me. We hit the town in the evening of a Saturday in what was probably the peak of hen/stag party season. If it had been winter, I assume the women would have been wearing a whole lot less, it seems to be an inverse proportion to the temperature. Mostly they had on sashes proclaiming their different groups. And all the guys looked exactly the same, the same shirt with the kind of rolled up sleeves, the same trousers, same haircut and all with a phone to their ear, mate, where are you, I'm at such and such street now, etc.

The backpackers place is somewhat of a dive. I'm most impressed by the vomit on the doorway to the first floor bathroom. So, generally I go up to the second floor after that. Search parties are sent out to find suitable food. Chinatown seems to be a reasonable destination, if we could figure out where it is. A few false starts and we finally end up there with a variety of choices. How about a buffet then. Seems cheap and you can pick what you want and have as much as you want. A whole lot of fried stuff and a lot of it is a bit dried out under the heat lamps but I find enough to eat. Well, I do eat a bit too much and feel a little sick.

Back to the room, all 12 of us in it together, sort like a calm bit in the middle of a storm. As Newcastle heaves outside, drunken groups come up the stairway in the middle of the night, singing at the top of their lungs, I sort of fear to see what the outside world will look like the next morning. But sleep, it was a full day. And 54.18 miles.

Castles made of sand, or woah, give me shelter

THW Big Borders tour - Belford to Alnwick, 15 June 2007

That phrase, the weather is unsettled. Funny, I don't think the weather worries so much about that. It does what it wants and then does something else. Maybe it isn't for us to understand but it seems settled on what it is doing. But we are left with a decision, it isn't all that far to Alnwick tonight, so what shall we do on the way there, castles, bird watching, off road, on road, just so many choices. Bambaugh Castle describes itself as "the finest castle in England". There are cruises to the Farne Islands to see puffins and loads of other birds. There are supposed to be fantastic kippers in Craster. Dunstanburgh Castle is supposed to be the most dramatic castle in England.

I guess for me, weighing the options, I've seen lots of castles. I don't particularly need to go into them. Blah blah, more Chippendale. We will go past Bambaugh, so I can see a bit of that and I would really like to go see the islands and cruise around on the ocean. If we get to Seahouses early enough, we can check and see if the boats are running today, if not, there are other things to do. But in the rush to get out on time, Dave and Caroline and myself end up leaving first, and I have a bit of a feeling that things are not quite right as I'm leaving.

Ok, I won't keep you in suspense, I left my sandals at the place and when I emptied my bag out that evening in Alnwick, I realized that I had rushed off and left them. Oh, it ends happily, Matt saw them on the way out and he brought them with him. So, I was reunited with the prodigal sandals and we were a happy family again.

The weather wasn't so awful this morning, it was still rather windy but the rain wasn't so bad. It is a quick few miles to Bamburgh. We go past Bundle Bay and it is rather attractive. Hmm, swimming, but still too windy and cold. Lindisfarne looms off in the distance too as we ride away from it. We are quickly in Bamburgh and the castle dominates the skyline. It is an impressive looking place. We stop for a minute to look and then head off to Seahouses. The ocean looks rough on the way and we can see the Farne Islands off in the distance.

When we get there, our fears are confirmed and none of the cruises are running due to the sea conditions. It is rather disappointing but there isn't really anything to be done about it. So now we have a few extra hours. Caroline says that Low Newton by the Sea has a really nice pub in it and I'm pretty keen to go see Dunstanburgh Castle, which will probably require a bit of off road and pushing to get there.

Low Newton is a little bit out of the way for us, but it was a nice stop. Dave and Caroline discuss where the National Trust cottage is, whether it is the thing up on the high hill with the radio mast. If it is, it looks like a pretty cool place to spend some time, up high right on the edge of the ocean. Down the hill then into Low Newton. I believe most of the village is owned by the National Trust, however that works. The pub there is pretty interesting, very rustic feeling. It is hard to imagine how they could have made it even a tiny bit more woody inside. But it looks like it would be a nice cozy place to spend a blustery rainy day. Hmm, kind of like today.

We go outside and witness the most epic sparrow fight. At first I wonder, is that a bit of hanky panky, shouldn't they get a room somewhere? But it seems much meaner than that. It goes on for a few minutes, rolling around, pecking at each other with a third bird standing by watching. After a while, it does appear that one is getting the advantage and the other one is on the bottom a lot more. Can they really do serious injury to each other like that? But we are not so sure we want to see if that is the case so Dave walks over by them to try and break it up. The weaker one darts off followed quickly by the other one right on its heels. Wonder what caused this blood feud? It probably continued on somewhere else right after this. They seemed really pissed at each other.

We watch somebody get out a kite and skate around on the beach pulled by the wind. Yeah, it is windy today, did I mention that anywhere yet? But then back to the main road and to find our path to the castle. Actually, the path there isn't so bad. We had heard that we might have to push as far as a few miles. But it is relatively smooth and easy to ride on. It is only when we get within sight of the castle and go through a gate, one of the worst smallest gates to try and squeeze through, we have to walk around the hill the castle stands on.

But they aren't kidding, the thing is rather dramatic. It is so cool how the walls had fallen apart, just narrow wobby columns of stone. The silhouette against the skyline is rather dramatic. I suppose the gloomy weather and the increasing rain helps with that too. There is also a sheer cliff wall there and lots of birds are swooping around, landing on the cliffs and then jumping back into the air. Guillemots and kittiwakes I believe. Into the castle, there isn't much of it left anymore but it is pretty cool and the views from up top are really good.

My favorite part of the day was the slope right past the castle. It was smooth and grassy and had fun rollercoast like bumps to bounce up and down on. It was good fun riding down that part. The rest of it was fairly ridable too, pasture mostly. It isn't far to Craster, which is good because I'm hungry and ready to be out of the rain. We look for somewhere to eat. The restaurant which is connected to the seafood shop seems to be closed, so nothing doing there. I guess the only other option is the pub across the street. That turns out to be a good choice though.

The seating area is in back with large windows looking over the sea. It was pretty fogged up but you could still see some nice big waves coming in. Crab soup and kipper pate for lunch. A seafood taste sensation. Very nice stuff.

But as we sit there, I'm just totally falling asleep. Maybe it was the food, something in it acted as a drug, or something but I can just barely stay awake. Not that I'm too keen about going out into the pouring rain either. I suppose there isn't all that much further to go but I'm feeling pretty unambitious at this point. My legs can get over whatever but I'm not sure I can be bothered to push them to do it. But this time, it is the whole deal, full waterproof stuff, overshoes included, and we head off to Alnmouth. The plan being we will see about train schedules in case anybody wants to just take the train to Newcastle tomorrow.

Part of that route will be fairly industrial and not the most attractive ride. But credit to everybody, in the end, everybody rides the whole thing and except for a few days where some take slightly different and shorter routes, everybody finishes everything.

Lots of this whole last bit are a bit blurry. I remember coming into Alnmouth and it seemed fine. You know, ocean there, town over there, yeah yeah, what next. We look up train times and then head off to Alnwick. Dave says later that about then it is fairly obvious that I've about had it, the fun and joy has left me. I'm tired of the rain. I just want to be somewhere dry where I don't have to ride around anymore. A lot of the last bit, I just try to go fast and get it all done.

I think there were hills, I think there was rain, whatever, eventually I'm there and the B&B is in front of us. Hurray. In spite of my crabbiness, I try to be a good person and take the triple room instead of the oh so tempting single one. I guess it doesn't matter, I'm somewhat oblivious to a lot of things now. 39.17 miles in a lot of rain today.

Dinner in town, there are a choice of Italian places, sounds fine to me. Chicken with rosemary on it, or something like that. I order salad and a bread (must have green things). A few go out to pick up wine and beer to have with it. So red wine to go with it. My bread seems to have ended up at the other end of the table. When I finally realize where my bread ended up and get it in front of me, it is good. Butter it and stuff it down. Gursh's arm darts into the bowl and grabs one. Aack. Will be nice, it is just bread and there is more of it. Then another one disappears, getting a bit distressed now. I make sure I at least get the last piece in the bowl.

Yeah, I know it isn't really even expensive and they have plenty more bread, but I can't snap just because somebody took a few pieces of bread. It was that kind of day, the rain, the endless rain. Gursh realizes then and somebody orders another order of bread to replace it, which is fine. It wasn't even the bread, I'm not even sure if I was super hungry, it was just the day, you know.

Walk back to the B&B and bedtime.

I am a rock, I am an island

THW Big Borders tour - Berwick to Belford, 14 June 2007

After I wake up, I want to go see Berwick. I didn't get a chance to properly explore it yesterday and it seems like there is quite a bit to see. We also have a deadline today, we are going to Lindisfarne, the Holy Island, and the causeway is flooded at high tide, so we have to be over it by 12:30. So, I set off and head down towards the river. That generally seems to be a good place to start.

There is a cute old bridge over the river, it says it is from 1600 sometime and was the main bridge until less than 100 years ago. Looks like a nice sturdy bridge. Off in the distance is the famous tall arched railroad bridge, which is one of the things I remember from the town all the times I took the train through it.

Berwick, like this whole region we rode across, went back and forth between Scotland and England a number of times. I guess the whole region is all about border disputes, going back to Hadrian's Wall, and probably before that too. So, the city is walled and fortified and walking along the walls and ramparts makes for a nice walk.

I head north up onto the Elizabethan ramparts which climb up over the city and overlook the ocean. I also walk past a bunch of signs for the Lowry trail, showing the streets and buildings that inspired various Lowry paintings. He was apparently, according to the signs, a much beloved British painter. Hmm, I had never heard of him before. But then back and down south past the Royal Border Bridge, the arched railway one. It is a nice walk and has taken me about an hour. The water is nice too, a few herons stand around and fly around. I guess I consider that I've seen Berwick now. Seems nice but I'm not sure I feel a burning need now to rush back.

Most everybody is finishing their breakfast when I get back. I scrounge what is left of the cereal and various bits of bread. I have to rush and pack too, we are supposed to be out by 10 and there is also high tide to think of. I'm feeling a bit anti-social and am quite happy to ride off by myself when everybody else decides to ride through town a bit before they head off. It is nice finding your own way and going at your own pace. And it is a pretty cool route too. It isn't the easiest one. The first part of it goes up along the ocean side on top of the cliffs. It is grassy pastures, occasionally with an actual path. It doesn't matter, it is a bit slower this way but it is grand to be riding up over the ocean this way, lots of dramatic views of cliffs and the ocean.

I come up to a herd of cattle who are milling around the gate. Not quite sure how to get through. I try my bell and they seem unmoved by that. Umm, excuse me cows, I'm going through that way. If you tap a few key ones, they slowly move off and the rest of them sort of follow. I get enough of them out of the way to get the gate open and through. Then they start mooing and making that high pitched sort of whine. I guess they thought I might feed them or something and were a bit disappointed.

The trail goes from road to paved path to rocky and puddly and back and forth between them all. But mostly it is a bit rocky and wet since a lot of it is access roads for the railroad tracks. A bit of indecision when I come to a branch in the road. It appears that the route 1 continues down the coast but another sign insists that it is a private road with access only to the beachcombers house. The map looks like it might just end up on the waters edge there, so I decide not to risk it and follow the road inland. I guess this is where I could have kept going and ignored the private road signs.

The trail kind of sucks here still, all the rain recently has made huge puddles to avoid, along with the large rocks and bumpy surface. I have to weave back and forth looking for the best bits of it. And I come to the most miserable rail crossing ever. As I was riding up, trains pass by going either direction, so I am somewhat sure there won't be another train for a little bit. But it has the most difficult gate(s) ever to open and close. Generally, you can hold onto your bike with one hand and open the gate with the other. But this one, the locking thing is incredibly hard to move. I have to prop my bike up, use both hands and really tug as hard as I can to get the stupid thing open and then closed too. I guess they want you to be really serious about using the crossing.

But Lindisfarne is in sight now. I go past what looks like the route 1 trail, a straight route from the direction I came that avoids all the stuff I had to go through. Oh well, too late now. Off to the causeway, I only have like 40 minutes to make sure I'm across before it floods. I guess I can kind of see how people would get caught there. It is a large mudflat, and absolutely flat at that.

The whole basin must fill up almost instantly. Apparently it can reach up to about three feet over the road surface. And I later hear that they have to rescue a couple of people a month who end up trying to drive across it just as the tide is coming in and they get caught in it. But for now, no water in sight and I made it safely across without incident.

I love the line of poles stuck in the water, it is such a cool image, of them disappearing into the water off in the distance. They are supposed to mark the safe route across the mud and sand.

So, on the island a bit before everybody else gets there. I guess I'll go and wander around the ruined priory for a while. Parts of it are fairly complete (wonder if they were reconstructed) and a whole lot of it is just bare foundations. My favorite part of it is what the years and weather have done to the sandstone. They make this cool ridgey holes, for some reason it reminds me of those Dante faces in hell pictures, or like Edvard Munch's the Scream.

So, having seen that, back into town and I see everybody start to assemble outside the cafe on the main road. The town is a bit funny, it was absolutely heaving over the last hour or so but then everybody quickly rushes away. Everybody in our group made it over just slightly before the tide came in and the island has emptied off in that time. So we are stuck there for about six more hours until the tide goes out. We head into the already fairly deserted cafe and order some food and drinks. As seems typical, they start locking up and bringing in the signs from outside as we are finishing up and when we leave, they shutter everything up. It looks like most of the rest of the shops and things in town are also closed. I guess most of them are only really open during low tide. That would be a funny schedule to base your business on.

I had been really keen to swim somewhere. I did on the west coast and I really wanted to get one in on the east coast. But the day is absolutely freezing. I didn't even want to unzip my jacket let alone strip down and jump in the freezing ocean. Hopefully a better opportunity will present itself. We leave our bikes in front of the cafe and head off to see the castle. The town is so deserted and well, where could anybody go, we leave all our bikes sitting there unlocked. It feels slightly freaky.

Those six hours are probably the longest my bike has ever remained unlocked except when it has been locked in my flat. Later that evening when I put it in the shed at the bunk barn, I lock it, even though it seems fairly secure there. I feel like there is some sort of lock karma that needs to be paid back, to put everything all back in balance.

So, the castle was ok. The setting is really cool, up on top of a high hilltop surrounded by ocean. It has been quite modernized though. Whoever owned it like 100 years ago ended up adding a lot of rooms and making it into more of a vacation cottage. I guess I like castles, I like standing on top of one and looking out and I even like kind of seeing how people have adapted to living in them, like what do you do with a home that would have been cold and damp and smelly. I never really know how to look around one. I mean they all kind of look the same inside, look, lots of old oak furniture, Chippendale or blah blah blah. Do you pretend that you are really interested that it is a old mirror from 1723 made by whoever or do you just kind of blow though it quickly.

The English Heritage volunteers were kind of the most interesting thing at the castle. They were all on these working holidays and mostly they make fun of all the idiots who try to drive over the causeway at high tide and have to be rescued by the RAF.

The walled garden is quite sweet too. It seems rather well designed and has a nice variety of things in it and it looks really nice there in the middle of this otherwise kind of barren setting.

So, we have lunch in one of the remaining open cafes in town and afterwards I go wandering off to see what else is on the island. Then I can't quite figure out where everybody else has gone so I continue to wander until I see Rob looking at his bike. The rest of the group had quite a challenge getting him across the causeway this morning, fighting the clock and having to stop a lot to keep pumping up his tire. The Puncture Fairy has taken his wheel and fixes it for him.

But the Puncture Fairy couldn't be completely omniscient because I think he/she would have remembered about my dynamo. A few days ago, on the rocky pass as I was trying to fix my flat front tire, I completely forgot about my dynamo and ripped out all the wiring as I took off the front wheel. Oh well, I guess I can do that now, figure out how it all goes back together, which I do and it is working again.

Once the tide is back out again, it is only a few miles to Belford where we are staying the night. I don't remember a whole lot from that ride there, about 10 miles or something. There was a cool flock of crows that swarmed as I was making my way up the last big hill into Belford.

We find the bunk barn, which I guess was slightly nicer than it sounds. The bathroom was an old shed but the rest of the house was pretty ok. The owner herds his ducks (raised from eggs) back into their area, or tries to, they don't seem to listen to him very well. Then the courtyard is taken over by another few really strange geese. I've never seen anything like them, white with red beaks and faces. They do a funny dance as they drink.

The kitchen is tiny and nobody seems motivated to cook so off to the chippy just around the corner. Really, I must learn, I really don't like fish and chips all that much. I did hopefully ask for chicken, which looked really nice, roasted and all, but they sold the very last one just before I ordered. Damn. So, greasy stomach, I feel slightly sick as I go to bed. First a quick drink at the pub and looking over the maps for tomorrow. 28.13 miles for the day. Plus probably 5-6 miles of walking around on the island.

Climb every mountain

THW Big Borders tour - Byrness to Berwick, 13 June 2007

Today we need to get an early start. Brenda needs to catch a train in Berwick tonight, 50 miles away. We read all the notes left around about how to operate breakfast, brought in cereal and bacon sandwiches. Not spectacular, would have rather had porridge, but I guess it is fine. Rob checks the bikes and warns me that my back tire was a bit low. I had just changed the front one last night and knew that the back one was slightly low already.

I had broken part of the valve off a week or so before the trip and I could only either leave it the way it was or just change the entire tube, so I had left it the way it was. Once we set off, I make it about 50 yards before my tire really gives up. I guess the rocky road must have finished it off yesterday and it expired during the night.

Crap, but at least this time all my tools and tubes are on the top of my bag. Once the tire is fixed, the mud guard is scraping and making a horrible noise. I've had this trouble all along. I've taken it back to Condor a few times to have them try and adjust it. It just has so little clearance there and once the pressure approaches where it really should be, hard to do with a tiny portable pump, then it scrapes again. A few stops and starts and finally Dave A is able to work that workshop magic and it is perfect. Perfect to this day too, so happy with my bike again.

Problems fixed, off to Scotland now. Waterproofs on since it is raining, I'm sweltering as we start climbing the pass to Carter Bar and stupidly take them off since it stops raining then. Wow, on the way down the pass, it just opens up and it is like riding through a waterfall. I feel beat up in every direction by the wind and rain. But it is so fast going downhill and I keep hoping I'll be to the bottom soon, I don't bother stopping. At the base of the pass, it is much more reasonable, just a light rain then, gee, hardly even noticeable.

This next section is just really pretty. The way to Kelso winds through a few valleys. A few sections are really steep. A gas truck rumbles behind us as we make our way up one of them. We all pull off, except for Brenda, who doesn't want to break her stride. Once out in the open country, is it a bit more gentle. At one farm, a crazy sheep dog comes out to attack us. I really hope that it doesn't get in front of me because the way I'm struggling up the hill, I'm not going to be able to avoid it if it decides to be right where I'm going. No way I can manage any sort of manoeuvering besides just going straight. But I do have to say, it was a really nice stretch of road to travel.

In Kelso, we search for a suitable cafe. A series of signs leads us around in a circle, through a graveyard and past a church to one, but even though it says it is the best cafe in Kelso, or in the world or something, nobody can quite justify paying the prices they are asking. Apparently there is one by the castle, slightly out of the way over that way, so we decide to go try that one. On the way, I spot another candidate, looks organic, crunchy and all that, seems like it might be nice.

The menu looks pretty nice although the portions are a bit small. The soup is good but I get bread envy when later people order the same soup and they get like twice as much bread. No fair. Brenda dubs my open face sandwich as merely a half sandwich. But it is pretty good, mushroom pate, and lots of little things on the side, vegetables and stuff like that. It seems like after a few days on the road, and after too many bacon sandwiches, I'm really craving anything that is green and doesn't have lots of grease in it. So it goes down fine. Apple pudding for dessert and when the rest of the group arrives, we really should go. There is still 25 miles left to go.

We really did kind of peak on this last part. The four of us have our system down perfectly, the road is slightly downhill over all although it is rather lumpy in places. The rain has mostly stopped. We go 17 miles, into the wind, in a single stretch, stop for a quick snack, and realize how sore we are before we rush off to do the last part of it. We cover the entire 25 mile stretch to Berwick in a little bit less than 2 hours, which seems pretty good.

We have a humorous moment as we come to the A road which circles the city. A car pulls up beside us and the guy in the car yells out at us, you guys should be ashamed of yourselves. Huh? I mean we have gotten our share of abusive comments over the last week and fingers and all that. I've been following you for a while and you guys should be ashamed of yourselves for drafting off a lady like that. Brenda had been in the lead for the last mile or so into town. We laugh as he drives off.

But we have gotten to town in plenty of time. We have time to stop by the grocery store for some food, to the Backpackers to check in and leave our stuff there and then we accompany Brenda back to the station to catch her train. As we wait, Dave T makes it there followed a little bit later by most of the rest of the group, so it is a largish delegation to see her off. And then on top of that, when the train arrives, the conductor is rather nice and helps load the bike on the train. GNER, what can you say, they are so much nicer to deal with.

Back to the rooms, can we do some laundry, no, can't do any, ok, maybe you can but you can't dry anything, well, maybe you can dry things if you want. It is probably best because it starts raining again and nothing would have dried on the line very well in that. I feel slightly guilty since I had obnoxiously grabbed the single room. It is a rather strange room, much like the rest of the place. It overlooks the courtyard and the ceiling slopes madly down towards the window. It has a rather cavelike feel to it.

It also has the world's scariest steps leading up to it. The hallway is completely pitch black and the stairs split off into a V shape and are completely irregular. Every time I need to walk up and down them, I have to creep along, feeling ahead at every step so that I don't tumble down them.

We go looking for a drink before dinner. The pub across the street seems fine but doesn't appear to have anything local. So we have to wander around town for another 45 minutes looking for another one before asking somebody in a liquor store for advice and they point us back to the original pub. It had seemed fine to me in the first place but what do I know, I don't quite understand pub culture anyways since it is a somewhat foreign concept to me still. The beer I had there was fine though.

The walk around town was somewhat enlightening though. All of the times I've ridden a train through Berwick, I've thought it looked like the coolest little town and I've always wanted to actually see it up close. The actual reality of the town seems slightly run down and seedy but there are still parts of it that seem really neat. I don't have much time to explore town on my own tonight, I'll have to try and do that tomorrow morning before we leave.

Dinner is in the Indian restaurant across the street. Again, the whole curry concept is somewhat foreign to me, so I don't probably have the mad desire to have it all the time that seems to infect so many here, but the food seems to be good enough, not the best Indian (ok, not actually real Indian, but whatever gets called Indian) but not the worst either.

Back to the room, zoned out after the fast 53 miles today. I'm slightly embarrassed to admit that I watched a little bit of the top 101 most embarrassing celebrity slipups, or whatever it was and ended up half asleep before I switched it off and went to sleep.

Rocky Mountain high

THW Big Borders tour - Grindon to Bryness, 12 June 2007

This morning, it was another eerie day. I walk around a bit outside in the fog before breakfast. Not raining though. Yet. That will be later. The hostel owner is running around a bit, checking to see if everything is ok, mostly in the way. It seems as he slept all night on the couch, with the tv on rather loud. Most everybody seems annoyed by the tv and eventually he turns it off. But then puts on classical music, also rather loud. Creating atmosphere, I guess. Mostly pretty annoying. He really does seem bewildered by us.

He has set out some boxes of cereal and stuff and we mostly finish it off and then try to pack. Now, this was probably the most challenging task here. I got tired of trying to pack in the inches of room in the bedroom and eventually drag my stuff out into the hallway and finish it there.

We are promised a possibly tough day today and it doesn't disappoint. Although my bike rebels a bit about the treatment. We have a few different choices for routes. All of us at least decide to go to Bellingham and then decide from there. A bit down the road from the start, we come across Mithraeum. It is a ruin of a Roman temple, it looks even more mysterious in the fog. It seems like a surprisingly complete ruin, but I guess probably a bit of it had been reconstructed.

About now, I could probably say that it starts raining a little bit and it could cover just about any point of the day. It mostly stopped and started all day long and then poured for a little bit later on, but at this point it is just a bit misty. The roads we take are a bit small and we have to stop a few times to consult the map, make sure, yep just going over a stream as the road turns this direction, this must be right. The back road part is pretty pleasant. We go by a few farms and houses. As we are in Simonburn, somebody asks, so are we in Wark yet? Strangely, some lady from inside a house yells back that no we are in Simonburn. Does she hang out by the window all day hoping to talk to anybody passing by? Somebody else in the group says there is a funny joke about Wark but I don't get it.

Around Wark, we join a slightly more major road and travel briefly on the most glorious road surface, just freshly paved and silky smooth. I notice a section of road on the map, just a bit west of where we are that has three up and down chevrons in a row within a mile or two. That would be one horrible section to go through, but we miss it. Our route is pretty hilly though. A last steep section and then a fairly nice glide down into Bellingham. Just on the outskirts of town, Brenda says that her gears are not working anymore and has to limp in the rest of the way on a fairly high gear.

Since we are there first, we look around for somewhere suitable for tea and snacks and probably a early lunch. There isn't all that much until we get to Kielder. Brenda also asks around, seeing if there is somewhere she can get a new cable for her gears. No luck there but fortunately when everybody else arrives, there are a few spares that she can use. But for now, we should have some food.

Ian comes in with a cycling map of Northumberland he got from the visitor center but that the woman manning it is a bit weird about giving them out, like she doesn't have very many or just doesn't like giving out informational things. So, of course all of us go and ask for one, I mean a free map, who wouldn't? I get scolded for asking for one, although she does give me one. It was rather helpful during the trip, so I'm glad I did get it. I had to promise to not tell anybody else where I got it. So, if you go there, ask for one and tell them I sent you.

Fixing Brenda's cable becomes a huge production. Dave A takes the lead and starts in on it as everybody crowds around and watches, taking pictures, etc. Brenda feels left out and insists that she wants to help, can I oil the cable? Ok go ahead. Umm, so where do I put that? Soon it is all done and we are ready to go. At this point, Matt and Dave T decide they are feeling a bit rough and want to take main roads instead of the proposed rocky road in our future. Maybe they were the wise ones here, but oh well, I survived.

The road through the forest and then around Kielder Water was actually really lovely but in retrospect, I'm not completely sure it was worth it. It rains, heavily at a few points and then stops and starts again. I'm just going to copy that last sentence and cut and paste it into random points in the next few paragraphs. Brenda and I arrive in Kielder a bit ahead of everybody and wander though town to see if there is anything open. The cafe in town seems to be closed and there isn't anything else. So we head back and head everybody off and we go to the fall back option of the castle.

Now, this must have been one of those fake castles, it is too perfect and all that to be all that old. But they have a cafe in it so that's the main good point about it. And I'm disappointed, they really missed out. They had signs to the Lords and Ladies room but they couldn't even keep the theme up and when I get there the door is just labeled Gents like every other one in this country. A tea and a bacon sandwich (see, no more of them for a long long time) and some soup. But we can't put it off much longer. The Forest Drive has a few warning signs on it about the suitability of the road.

Really, the first few miles of it were actually really good. One section was so fantastic that at that point, it all seemed totally worth it. Gursh zips by on his mountain bike and big tires. We overtake him a bit after that and don't see him or anybody else for the rest of it. The scenery is really remarkable, although a bit too much of it seems to have been clearcut and then replanted tree plantations so a bit of that sameness. But it is eerie and foggy and rather isolated. There were only a few cars the whole way and most of them were pretty patient, although there were a few, logging trucks especially, where were rather terrifying as they flew by inches away. One lady in a car stops and talks to us and seems rather concerned that we are even on the road, you know it is just this bad the entire way? Hmm, maybe should have listened to her.

The road was a fairly steady climb up to like 400 something meters and lots of ups and downs and then a slow descent down the other side. Well, I thought it was slow. A few times I reached what seemed like a terrifying 14-15 mph and still saw Brenda pulling off into the distance. That just seems crazy. Unfortunately, about 3/4 of the way through the road, my front tire decides it is done. Crap. This is where I realize that all my stuff is in the very bottom of my bags and it is raining pretty steadily. And the midges are feasting on us the whole time too. Brenda has a spare tube easily available and I change the tire as quickly as I can before the midges finish me off.

It is just so exciting exiting the woods and getting back on a normal wood. I can't quite believe it for a while, like it will get really bad again just to mess with me. But we are back on the B road and Byrness is only a short distance up the road. Matt and Dave T are already there and gets us some tea and we come in and try to dry off. We put things in the drying room, at least that's what it is labeled, it was a room and you could hang things up to dry but it just didn't happen. The showers are bewildering too. There are elaborate instructions on the wall on how to use it. But if you turn it to 4 like it says, you will be a charred mess. Putting it barely on 1 was still a bit too hot.

Dinner is funny there. They have a freezer full of meals to heat up and salad and dessert brought in. Although freezer is the keyword here. It takes about an hour more than anticipated to actually heat things up, even with the beer run to a far away pub to bring in some drinks. For frozen food, it is decent enough and it seems to be plenty. Bedtime again, what a day. 49.20 miles for me. I realize too, I really need to make sure my bed is made up and I don't have all my junk on it well before everybody else goes to bed. It is annoying trying to handle all that stuff in the dark.

Mother, did it need to be so high.

THW Big Borders tour - Carlisle to Grindon, 11 June 2007

Morning again. I slept fairly well finally. I was slightly worried about the dog I could hear outside the window who seemed to bark at everything, but either it stopped or I was too tired to hear it. Breakfast was served at 730 sharp. Our big pile of laundry we left with the guy was done too and I picked through it to find my stuff. This was the first English breakfast stop, wasn't it? I'm still undecided on that whole issue, was it good to stock up on that much of a meal for the later ride, along with the slightly queazy gut feeling, or would I have been much happier with porridge? But it was there in front of me, so I ate it.

Now some people wanted to find the local bike shops and find supplies or spare parts or something like that. Apparently Alex tried on every overshoe in town to find the perfect one. Brenda and I accompany Matt to his bike shop stop, can't remember what he bought, and they fill his water bottle. We hit the drug store too for stuff and Caroline joins us and we head through town to find where the route starts. You know, for a town with three bike shops within a few block radius, the bike lane on the main street was comically narrow. It almost seems suitable for the Warrington site.

The four of us head out of town, stopping a few times to check if we are heading the right direction. We make it through the rush hour traffic and find ourselves finally on a pretty obvious bike path. It runs for a bit along a river and then through a park (a few sheep running through it). It is a pretty nice trail here through a largish city. We miss the part that runs along the side of the road but are still able to find where it leads after that.

Brampton isn't all that far and it is the possible place for a tea stop. We park and wander around town seeing if there is anything that looks suitable, and end up crowding into the place we found originally. A bit too early for lunch so tea and cake here. We are finished and ready to go by the time everybody else pulls up. We hand off our table and head out again. There are lots of ruins and forts to see today so no time to waste sitting around.

First past Lanercost Priory, which we don't stop at. Possibly we might have if Matt had his English Heritage membership at this point, but I have to be satisfied with the view from the road as we circle around it, the back half of it a shell of ruins. Looks pretty though. That leads into a fairly steep climb past Banks and we find our first bit of ruined wall. Bank Hill Turret 52A is up top a high ridge and the view is quite nice. Although, I have to assume that the Roman soldiers stationed here didn't really think too much of it all, being stuck in a cold miserable place on the very edge of the frontier.

Not a lot of the wall left here, but I guess I can get a vague sense of what it used to be like. There were just a few people milling around when we got here but a coach comes and drops a whole big load of people off and then starts a painfully slow process of trying to turn around just as we want to leave and get past it.

Birdoswald is just a bit further up the road and we plan to stop there and have lunch and see the fort. The attendant lets us bring our bikes through the gift shop and park them in the courtyard. Nice, so no need to lock them then, it would have been a pain getting all that stuff off to get to my lock. The foundations of the fort are fairly extensive but there isn't all that much left besides that. Brenda seems a bit disgusted, especially about the walls, "that's all there is of it?" The walk past the back of it and overlooking the valley beyond is well worth it. It is a nice view of River Irthing and we enjoy the nice sunny day, sitting on the edge and looking out at it.

Having seen it all, we head back and get some lunch from the gift shop cafe. A simple sandwich and soup but it is pretty ok. Brenda and Caroline start their tradition of indecisive about which of two deserts, split it in half and have a bit of both. We wander through the exhibit and then are ready to leave as the rest of the group pulls up.

The wall extends a little bit past the fort and we see it head off into the distance as the road turns off the other way. Some annoying Australian woman wants to chat about how some day she is going to get into shape and blah blah blah as I try to get away on my bike. Really, no time to chat, I'm going that way.

We end up getting a bit lost around Thirlwall Castle. We totally miss where the route goes off right before we cross a railroad track and end up climbing a rather steep hill. Or I should say Matt and Brenda do, I was about 3/4 of the way up before Caroline realizes the mistake further behind us and starts yelling. They are just approaching the summit and I have a bad vision of them disappearing over the top and having to go chase them down the other side but they notice in time and back track again and find where we went wrong.

Really, it is a much easier trail then, one of those flat roads beside a railroad track sort of thing. Which is good because we have just a horrendous climb outside of Greenhead. At least the track goes off the main busy road, but it is extremely steep and rocky and the very beginning of it forces you to go through a gate so that there is no way you can actually get any sort of speed to help you up. Not that parts of it were all that ridable anyways.

Next into Haltwhistle, which apparently is the center of Britain. Not a terribly exciting town but they do have a grocery store and we are cooking this evening. We need to get all the stuff for dinner since the rest are fairly far behind and dinner will be extremely late otherwise. Packing it all on the bikes is a bit funny. For some reason, Caroline ends up throwing like 5 cans in her bags.

I end up with a lot of bulky squishy stuff that extends far over the tops of mine. When it starts to lightly rain later on, I worry that open waterproof bags in the rain would be a bit of a disaster, since they would retain the water so well. I have a few extra grocery bags and am able to bunji them on and it holds pretty well. Whoever it was that invented the bunji cord, fricking genius.

So, weighed down by groceries, still with about 15 more miles to go and a number of large hills to go over, we head off. The road really sucks for part of it, unbelievable that it was actually paved considering how bumpy it was. And two large hills to climb. The worst of all, just on top of the last really awful hill, ready for a nice fast ride down, stupid truck blocks the way and we have to stop half way down to at least preserve as much of the ride down as we can. Brenda ahead, goes over the last hill and spots the place first and waves her hands in victory. The Old Repeater Station is a lonely isolated looking place. Although in some ways, it seemed bleaker on the inside. What a really strange place.

The guy has packed 14 into a place that really should sleep about half that. Well, since all the rooms were taken, he has to end up sleeping on the couch that night, or maybe he just passed out there. The kitchen is absolutely jammed packed with junk and we struggle to cook anything given the complete lack of counter space and the impossible logistics of cooking a large batch of chili in the only three tiny little pans we could find. Some can't eat meat, Rob doesn't want anything strange. The salad has to go in a strange plastic container because there really isn't anything else to use.

Very little of that kitchen actually embodied the essence of kitchen-ness. Although, if we wanted to microwave anything, we had quite a choice of machines to choose from. Really, the whole place kind of oozed bachelor pad. Very strange seeing the guy's mail lying on the counters, doctor stuff, bills, etc. After the ordeal, dinner is still nice. Time to crowd into the tiny bedrooms and call it a night.

42 miles for me today. But probably the saving grace of the evening was the fantastic sunset. It was misty, foggy, and colorful. And Gursh joins us at this point, arriving from the east before dinner time. Was this the many puncture day for him? I can't remember, one of them was. Although he didn't get lost once this trip, those of you who read last year's report. That task got passed onto Ian (Dave A gets to chase him down for 1 1/2 miles tomorrow).

Take the skinheads bowling, take them bowling.

THW Big Borders tour - Cockermouth to Carlisle, 10 June 2007

Morning again, up before most everybody else again today. I didn't sleep so well most of the trip, so if I got a bit crabby at times, sorry all. But I had been eyeing that river for a few days now and was determined to try it out. If those local kids could manage it, then surely I could too. I wander around the garden and trees before hand, steeling myself for it. Supposedly there are red squirrels out here somewhere but I never end up seeing them. I did see them in Scotland just back in March, so I'm not overly disappointed. I try to figure out how the mill works too.

There is a waterwheel, but the water must have come in from pretty far upstream, or the river has sunk quite a bit since they used it. Not really sure. But enough goofing around. Yeah, it was cold, quite bracing. It was a hot evening though and my arm wasn't feeling so well, so it was quite refreshing despite the cold.

So, my porridge seemed to go over pretty well yesterday, so I go in and start to make more for breakfast today. We need to move on today, so things have to be packed up and ready to go soon too. My glorious plan to have the perfect packing system in my two bags is already starting to fall apart. When I get a puncture a few days later, the merits (or lack of) of having my tool thingys in the very bottom of my bag are highlighted. Everybody assembles outside and packs their bikes up.

I end up taking one of the left over wine boxes from last night since there is room on my rack. Rob grabbed it off my bike when we reach Carlisle later that evening and I never see it again. Wonder what happened to it.

Our route today will take us west to the coast at Maryport and then we will work our way north and east along the Solway coast and then cut over to Carlisle from there. Matt, Brenda, and I end up in front and speed our way to Maryport. The day is nice and the route is somewhat downhill much of the way. We are quickly there and we stop first to see if we can find any food and then head down to the harbor to take a look at that. It is pretty, lighthouse, Scotland off in the distance, and all that stuff. Eventually we think we should go look for the rest of the group, surely they would be here by now.

We find them on a high overlook and we all decide to head on north to Silloth. But we are not sure of the cafe situation there, so maybe picking up some food, maybe even a picnic sort of situation would be nice. Unfortunately, not much is open in town and the sandwich shop we pick seems completely unprepared to handle more than maybe one or two orders a day. Every time you order something, they have to run upstairs to see if they have it, then to place the order and then keep running up and down to see if it is ready. Maybe one of those hollow tube things they yell into on ships would help them (engine room, full speed ahead). So, it ends up taking absolutely forever to get the food. It is getting so late that I'm tempted to just eat it right there. But I'll hold out. Well, for a few minutes at least.

Back on the road again. We encounter a rather stubborn small child on the north side of town. We have to pass through a gate, the type of go into it, swing it around you and then go through that opening type. (I'm amazed at how many different ways there are to secure a gate. I think in the 10 days, I'm not sure I saw more than 4-5 gates that were secured the same way.) But the gate was barely big enough to take a bike, especially one loaded down with baggage. But he insists on standing there with his tiny bike watching us try to squeeze past him. But that done, off to face traffic and the wind. Our drafting skills are greatly improving now, forming a rather efficient peloton.

But Matt complains about sore feet and wants to stop and shift his shoes around. I take the opportunity to devour my sandwich. So much for waiting for lunch, which is fine because 2nd lunch is at least 20 minutes away. When we arrive, we park our bikes in the park in the center of town and go and join the queue for fish and chips across the street. Still, I don't understand fish and chips. Maybe it would be better if you could slather it with ketchup or something to actually give it flavor, but then again, they always charge like 20p for each of the tiny little bags of ketchup. And so much oil too, it hits hard in the stomach. (Fish and chips moratorium, in addition to the bacon one.)

We set off again after lunch. Dave A seems keen to try the drafting rotation. Although the first time he leads, he zooms off and we all have to try and chase him down. Well, his first shift was on a horribly potholed road too and that adds to the challenge. His next shift, he never takes his eyes off the speedometer and maintains a steady 12.77 mph. A little practice and we all have it down pretty well. Around the coast and inland for a bit until we pop out on the north side and see the ocean and Scotland off in the distance. We stop just inside a gate for a snack and then head off again for Port Carlisle for the meet up point for lunch.

The rest of the group was supposed to take the shorter route and not take the whole route around the peninsula. Maybe they did, maybe not, I don't know, out of sight, out of mind. But they show up for lunch a bit after we get there. And Gary and Aileen had a train to catch in Carlisle so they had to rush out there ahead of us.

The town of Port Carlisle is hopping. A bowling tournament is in high gear across the street from the pub. They all look sharp in their whites. The competition looks fierce. Apparently the home team eventually wins, so all is right with the world. We try a variety of tables in the pub and eventually settle on one outside in the back. Four teas please. Umm, and a latte. Brenda makes the poor bartender struggle with the machine, taking, it must have been five minutes to make that latte. All that work and he charges like a ridiculous 80p or something for it. (Ok, compared to what prices they normally command.)

We try a variety of industrial strength pre-packaged cakes. They claim to be different flavors, but mostly they seem to be a bit of spongy doughy things with a thick coating of sugar on the outside. Amazingly, some of them don't get finished.

Once the rest of the group arrives and has their drinks and food, we wander off to look at the old canal, see, Port Carlisle is the port for the inland Carlisle. Then back on the bikes and off for the last bit of the day. I can't remember much of the stuff before Carlisle, so I don't think it was terribly memorable then.

Carlisle is fairly big. We have no idea where we are going, just have an address and a map that vaguely shows us where the train station is. We could have sworn that Caroline and Dave A were right behind us as we get to town but maybe not. We go way out of the way, busy roads, large circle off ramp and end up down in the pedestrianized central part of town. We find the train station but Gary and Aileen's train already left a few minutes before, so we couldn't say good bye. Hmm, now where, anybody know where we are going? We have an address but have no idea where it would be. Eventually we ask a few people and get a general direction to travel.

Once we find the place, we are slightly surprised that we were the first ones there since it took us a really long time to find the place. The B&B owner seems slightly stressed out by the room arrangements and spends about 10 minutes going over and over them with us. Brenda gets a single room and Matt is slightly sick so he takes the other one to not spread whatever it is he has. The remaining rooms are some sort of arrangement of twins, doubles, triples, or I'm so glazed over from his explanations (and the sun and the need for a shower) I have no idea what they are. The only thing that ends up registering is that here, you are in this room number, it is a double, and something about Dave T. Then he explains it a few more times and it makes even less sense.

See, I see where I went wrong, just tell me, this room has one bed, this one has two, etc. Don't deal with technical terms like twin/double/etc. Especially when I'm tired and just want him to stop so I can go take a shower.

I get to the room, oh no, this can't be good. That bed (the one bed in the room) is tiny. Now, I have nothing against Dave T but I tell you, that bed would be much too cozy sharing it with anybody, whoever they might be. First things first, must shower then I can be distressed later. So, after Dave A and Caroline arrive, my panic returns and we go and get the explanation again from the B&B guy. Dave T is actually in another room, so everything is fine. I still don't know what that guy was going on about, but all was right in my world, so that's good then.

So dinner, it is a B&B so we must go searching for food then. Caroline had been in town before so she said X, can't remember the name of the place, was pretty cheap and the food and beer were fine. And yeah, it was, nothing amazing but the chicken sandwich was fine. What was it, black sheep ale or something, was nice too. And apparently my sandwich isn't sold without a beer, so I had to have another one when that arrived too. Great trauma, I tell you. We sit outside and enjoy the night, the last warm and nice day for a while.

Bedtime. I think like 57 miles for the day.

Take me to the water

THW Big Borders tour - Cockermouth to St Bees to Cockermouth, 09 June 2007

Up really early this morning. The room was really hot, a bit noisy with snoring, fortunately though, nobody reaches Steve levels. I get up at 6:30 and wander around outside and dip my feet in the river. It is pretty cold. I help start breakfast, make a vat of porridge, which seems comically gigantic but ends up being completely devoured in the end.

We have a number of options for the day. Nothing is planned and we will be at the same place for the evening. The "we want to go to the beach for a swim" crowd (proud member of) wins the day and we decide to head for St Bees for the day. But more options, the long way, the short way, over big hills. Oh, Dave and Caroline, lead us, don't force us to make decisions. Anyways, hilly group and less hilly group. I join the hilly longer group and go to prepare my bike and all that for the day.

We assemble, Gary and Aileen are going to go off on their own (hee hee, more on that one later) since they just have folding bikes. Brenda, Dave T, Dave A, Matt, Ian and myself form the hilly group. Everybody else (anybody not involved in things I do ends up lumped hereafter with "them", "doing something else", well, unless it is funny like Gary's adventure today) goes on their route.

On the road, we avoid the rocky path up from the hostel and take the flat path through the park and past the fire station. We head out of town and head south looking for our turnoff. We pass Gary and Aileen on the side of the road, looking at maps or something like that. (Yeah, wait for it, be patient, I'll get there.)

The pace is pretty fast and we make it to lonely country roads. Well, lonely except for the kamikaze tractor driver (woman, we think, looked like long curly hair as she sped off into the distance) who barrels past us, possibly under control but I doubt it. The bouncing trailer she is pulling seems to come awfully close to many of us as she gives us inches of clearance.

We miss our turns twice, once we decide to backtrack and find the correct road and the other time we just keep going. Brenda and Matt are speeding ahead as Dave A and I see the bench. I had been asking about birds, my typical question, umm, what's that bird? It might have been buzzards. But we get rather excited when we realize, that's one of Ray's benches. I believe it was either number 3 or 4 on his top 10 list. It really is a pretty setting and the view is just great.

It overlooks Drummock Water. We take turns sitting on it and taking pictures of each other sitting on it. Brenda must have realized that nobody was behind her anymore and comes back to find us.

We set off again, Brenda and Matt slightly reeled in and head for our planned meet up with the other group near Rowrah. It turns out there is a home and garden center with a cafe in it. You English people are weird. So, we sit in chairs and at tables with large price tags on them. I guess you can try out the furniture before you buy it. But is it is tea stop or a lunch stop? I decide to split the difference and declare it both, sandwich, tea and a bit of cake.

We eat lunch and sit in the sunny patio and then the reports start to come in. So apparently, mere minutes after we saw Gary and Aileen on the road, Gary had managed to lose her. Completely. For the rest of the day. On their anniversary. So yeah, we might never know exactly what happened, we only have a bit of forensic evidence as clues.

Dave T horrifies us with his camera which is haunted by a mysterious ghostly naked man picture. He blames it on something that must have happened when his sister borrowed it, but again, we have no real evidence about this mystery.

Anyways, we have a beach to get to. Brenda changes, again. Now we can go. The part after Rowrah is on an old rail line. I'm not quite sure of the theme of the trail. Apparently all the sculpture and benches and stuff are made out of the old pieces of the line, rails and bridges and stuff. Beyond that, I'm not sure what links them together, like there are old rail tie benches and large sculptures of phoenixes. But there isn't really time to notice because it is a smooth road and slightly downhill and we fly on it.

We go so fast that we overshoot our hoped exit point and end up in the outskirts of Whitehaven instead. So we have to detour back onto the main roads and over a rather steep hill to St Bees. It is a long climb and it is a luggage free day and it isn't so bad. Coming over the other side, it is a fast nice descent into St Bees.

We park on the overlook to the beach and those who are swimming change, or somehow prepare themselves. It was a rocky approach to the beach and I regret not bringing my sandals today, but I was trying to travel light. Ouch ouch, and finally to the sand. Stepping into the ocean, ohh, it is so nice and warm, this is fantastic. Keep walking and oh my, it got cold really fast.

But there is nothing to be done, the pain will only last so long. Some plunge in and the rest never make it past the warm water parts. It is a funny ocean, there are warm and cold pockets. Once you find a warm pocket, it is nice but then they seem to move and you have to go search for another one.

The tide is coming in and the wading group notices that our shoes and towels are in danger of getting wet. Ahh, thanks. It is getting a bit late too and we should start heading back. Dinner needs to be made and all that. A few decide to zip off and catch a train to Maryport (I think) and the rest of us head back the same way we came, meaning up the steep hill. Down in the village, there are loads of matching tents (well, in about 3 different bright colors) lined up on the green. As we climb up the hill, a mysterious unmarked military looking helicopter takes off and patrols back and forth along the valley.

The rail section again, it is nice but this time it is just slightly uphill. Still, we make a pretty fast pace on it and quickly make it to Rowrah again. We stop at the bridge there and wait for the rest of the group to catch up before heading onto the main roads. We don't particularly mess around and decide to take the A road back to Cockermouth, with the option of ducking off onto the smaller roads if it gets too bad. But it is fine. We make a fast pace and Brenda, Matt and I start the beginnings of our little team to fight the wind. We haven't quite gotten the transitions of switching the front position down yet but it works fairly effectively to get back to Cockermouth quickly. 51.15 miles for me today.

Dinner, two different sorts of pasta, I believe, salad, a fair amount of wine. Quite nice. Gary and Aileen are heading off tomorrow to go home, we try to find out what happened today, but it is still a mystery.

Ray entrusts us with the task of locking up at 11 pm so that he can go to bed. We finish dinner and drinks and a grumpy old man comes down to tell us off for being noisy. (Still intrigued by this "ticking off" expression which seem to be the opposite of the Americanism, or at least somebody is ticked off at somebody (annoyed) as opposed to being ticked off by somebody (told off).) And bedtime.

Jumping somebody else's train

THW Big Borders tour - London to Penrith to Cockermouth, 08 June 2007

Friday morning comes early. I've mostly packed last night. There have been piles of stuff on my floor for a few days now and I've gotten them all stuffed into my panniers. I think about how completely unprepared I was for last year's tour. I have waterproof bags this year, much nicer bike, better waterproofs, in better shape, I know what to expect and what I should pack. Still, it will be a long way to go and I hope I got it all right. Being more ruthless with the packing helped but there are still a few things I can do better next time. I'll have to revise that kit list and post a new improved copy. One without 3-4 different sorts of caps.

Anyways, because of the way the train tickets were purchased, I was given the crushing responsibility of holding the tickets for the three other people traveling with me. I'm a few minutes late leaving for Euston, but I figure I can just haul ass and make it up on the way. Traffic is mostly ok but it gets a bit bad near the station. Still, I make it there in about 25 minutes, so far so good. Ok, where is everybody. Eventually I spot Ian waiting. One down, two more to go.

Train goes up on the board, still no Tom or Alex. We go and wait by the gate but still not there. Caroline had sent out all sorts of techy details about what the train will be, which end to board, and all that, and warned that there might be a hassle about bikes. But I completely expect that. I'm trying to think of a long train journey I've taken where there hasn't been some sort of hassle about bikes, not many come to mind.

Anyways, finally Tom and Alex show up and we head to find our places. The train manager intercepts us and four bikes, he radios somebody, sorry, only three spaces on the train, one of you can't go, even though we had reservations for all four of them. Crap crap. We argue with him for a while and eventually just blow past him and try to get our bikes on anyways. Even if one gets denied, no point in the other three missing the train which is leaving in a couple of minutes. The engineer at the front helps us load the bikes in and he doesn't see much problem with there being four. The train manager comes up then and starts lecturing us about trying to get the fourth bike on.

He relents and says there are actually four spaces after all but if there had turned out to be three, he said he would have waited until we boarded and then chucked one bike off onto the platform just as the train pulls out to screw us over. Prick. (Note to self, must file complaint with Virgin about this one. Late update - reference 4-1694659, better get some satisfaction from them.)

The rest of the train journey was fine. Nothing exciting to report there. Arrival in Penrith a few minutes late. Had texted Caroline to let them know as she and Dave were waiting for us there. It is a bit after noon when we get there. Nobody is really starving, snacking on the train, so the six of us decide to head out for a lunch stop in Keswick. So, Greystoke, there is a Tarzan link (I think) but the castle was closed, nobody really wanted to see it anyways. The village is pretty typical small village. But there was a "Cycle Cafe" just before town, although I couldn't see what was all that cycle-ish about it except that they made cars park a few hundred meters away in the village parking lot.

So, Sustrans routed us through a rather odd diversion. As we head through it, it strikes us as kind of the perfect Sustrans route, or one that seems to meet almost all their criteria. Small road which heads two miles up a valley and two miles back, saving about 1/2 mile on a main road, check. Lots of gates to go through, check. Steep off road sections, check. Plenty of sheep and other animals (highland cattle, llamas) to go through and past, check. Somehow they missed a cattle grate though, not sure how they didn't have one put in just for the occasion. Still, the route was lovely and worth the diversion. We stop at a bridge across the stream at the top of the route and admire the view.

The llamas were funny. After observing them for a few minutes, we came to a number of conclusions about llama society. All of them sit in the exact same spot, every day, all day. One of them rubbed its neck on the ground, and the grass there had been worn down by endless repetition in the exact shape of his neck. They all face the same direction every day, all looking in different directions, never looking at each other. Presumably they would have to come up with small talk if they did, and who knows what llamas would talk about.

A lot of the rest of the way to Keswick was on an old railroad line. So, it was mostly flat, gravely, through woods and over funky bridges. We hear a cuckoo somewhere off in the woods and spot a heron in a stream as we cross a bridge. The pace here is good and we are approaching lunch. The road switches to paved and starts winding through hills. There is a big concrete bridge (Greta Bridge) that we cross under that has a plaque saying it is the concrete structure of the millennium (or something like that.) Didn't seem to be all that great to me, but whatever.

In Keswick, looking for lunch. Most everything seems to be closed. And everybody seems all picky, we want to sit outside, we want good food, blah blah blah. Ian says somewhere is the "best vegetarian cafe in the world" or something like that nearby, but it seems to be closed. Near to that, is a cafe that seems to meet most of the criteria (the key one being that they are actually open) and we stop there. I think I had tea and cake there. Or maybe it was a bacon sandwich. (As of today, I'm on a bacon moratorium for at least a month. I had too much of it over the week.) As we sit afterwards looking at maps, they seem pretty anxious to bring their signs and tables inside so that they can lock up and go home. That seemed to happen a lot on the trip, cafes would lock up their doors seconds after we left.

Last section coming up now. There are three possible paths to take, one over a pass, one flat along a lake, and another further north, maybe on a busier road. We opt for Whinlatter Pass, I can't remember the reasoning now, something like it would be a tough quick up hill and then a coast down into Cockermouth and good training for the rest of the trip, something like that. It was a steep one, two chevron sections and about two miles up.

I've decided that I absolutely adore my bike, although it is geared in a stupid Italian Campagnolo way, meaning way too high for a touring bike. I find that the second I put any luggage on the bike, that I always want to ride on the small front chain ring. Ok, after a few days, I was much stronger and it all worked better, but still, I want to change it eventually. It is nice having the really high gearing to try and break Dave T's downhill speed records, but I want my lowest gear to be a bit lower. There wasn't anything I could get up in low gear, but I would like to be a bit lazier and spin a bit more up the really long hills.

The view from the first lookout, after the first chevron section, looked out over the lake we might have gone around. It was a tough climb up to there and the day is pretty hot. We rest and admire the view and wait for the rest of the group to walk up. There is a grave across the road in the grass looking at the same view. From 1847, I guess J.W.S. gets that view all the time. But another mile up on a steep section before the eventual summit, wherever it is, it isn't marked. I go ahead and climb by myself, it is nice to be able to pace myself and just look at things.

It is pretty fast coming down the other side and fairly quickly make it to Cockermouth. Just one small little hill coming into town. Well, besides the very steep rocky one down the hill to the hostel. At least we get to go down it in the daylight. It is a pretty cool building, an old converted mill building next to a small river. Very stony and rustic looking. Local youths are swimming in the river. Hmm, swimming, noted for later. Gary and Aileen are already there (well at the pub already eating) and Dave T and Matt arrive a bit after that.

We have no food ready so we also head off to the pub to have dinner. It does take a while to pick the place because Ray, oh what can be said about Ray, the warden of the hostel. He has lots of opinions and information. His book of information about the hostel, the local town, stores and restaurants, his top 10 favorite benches to sit on (yep), and so on. Impressive but funny too. A lot of the pictures of the stores and restaurants have his bike sitting in front propped to the building.

Dinner, I believe I had sausage, I mean when in Cumbria, don't you have to. And Jennings pretty much dominates the beer market, it was pretty good though. A few stop at the store on the way back to pick up breakfast stuff. And deadlines, the doors get locked at 11 pm and Brenda and Rob haven't arrived yet. They took a late train to Maryport and seemed to be delayed a bit and had to rush from Maryport in the dark. Then when they are in town, it was hard to find the place. We sent out a few envoys to meet them and guide them back. Dave T encounters the "most boring person in the world" and just can't get away from him. We wait and watch the clock and field calls from the field, trying to give directions, dealing with conflicting information about location, that street might be on this side of town or maybe the opposite. All ends well, on time, nobody gets locked out and there is a quick batch of pasta cooked up for them and off to bed.

42 miles for me today. Excellent first day. Lovely warm weather too.