Cycling Blind

This morning I woke up in the guard room of Saint Briavels Castle. We had not done a great job acting as guards due to sleeping on the job, but modern youth hostels are quite well defended these days. I slept well, but my legs were not feeling any better for it. In fact, climbing down from the top bunk was quite an effort in itself! Many things that I would have previously considered easy non-events are a continual struggle now. Climbing down that short ladder was one of these. The guard room was located on the second floor of the castle, with a great view of any potential intruders. This was not so great for guardsmen with weary legs, who would have to go up and down two flights of stairs for breakfast.

After the weary climb back up, I suggested looking in our route guide book. Dan did. I wasn't allowed. "You can't look in the book" he screamed. Knowing how much I was struggling to do even the simplest of tasks I feared the worst.

Given that our accommodation was slightly off the route to begin with, I devised a short cut to Hereford that would pass through the village of Berry Hill. I have a tip for any budding end to enders out there - do not plan your route through places containing the word "hill" in their name. These do not tend to be the flattest of routes. In fact, this was so steep on the way down that I had to stop and push. My brakes not have the might to overcome gravity at it's worst.

We climbed and descended a number of hills on the way to Hereford, all of which were manageable. Although my definition of manageable is continually changing, and usually for the worse. Each hill we went up I remember thinking "this one wasn't thaaaat bad, so the worst must be yet to come". This paranoia stuck with me, despite the hazards that the roads tried to throw at us. Gusts of winds almost knocked us over, and lorries made their overtakes with the narrowest of margins. One such lorry thought himself kind enough to knock a great swathe of dust into my eyes, blinding me as I approached a busy junction.

I was still blind to the great hill that Dan had worried me about until we left Hereford. Then I could see a ridge approaching. After a short break to build up courage and strength we set upon it. It was nothing like I had imagined, but for the better. A whole day of anticipation made it seem flatter than the killer hills of my mind.

I now feel good in Leominster, partly for managing the hill, partly for passing the £3k mark. Thanks for all your support.

Will