Would you do it again?

From Leominster we had only 40 miles to Shrewsbury. It had been on signs since the previous afternoon, we have become used to seeing these places come and go. When you combine this with a reasonable starting time, and a lot of flat ahead of us, I told Will this would be our easiest day. We were on the lookout to recharge our batteries and restock our bags with supplies before the big ride up to Wigan tomorrow.

There was a little drizzle, fo shizzle. After twelve o'clock and twelve miles we were into the medieval town of Ludlow. Medieval towns weren't known for their supermarkets, but their markets. Without a 24 hour Tesco, Team Rogers had to settle with a Spar for stocks and lunchables. I don't want to stain the reputation of this dealer but their sandwiches and pasta were some of the least appetising things I have seen in a while, and those who know me best will have seen me eat some pretty inedible stuff. Meanwhile, on the other side of the automatic doors, monsoon season arrived in Shropshire. Will had taken shelter beneath some branches in the square while I did that well known event, the 60 metre dash in the rain. I think that we should sneak that as a taster event in London 2012, puddles and all! Enforce T shirt and trainers as the official kit. Furthermore, don’t let the competitors know when the race is about to start. Anyway, I digress. Ludlow, like so many towns we have passed through, has a castle. “£4.50 entry? You can see half of it from out here” one commentator said. He was right. It was too much for outlaws like us, unable to spend too long in any one place. We went for a little walk around the outside and in the gift shop (free entry!).

Out of Ludlow the clouds cleared and we made good time going up to Shrewsbury with Ben (off of Day 1) in convoy. It was an enjoyable ride with the sun on our backs, the flat at our fronts and the company around us. This really gives me the taste for this kind of riding. I asked myself, and my colleagues, “would you do it again?” It might be 500 and odd miles too soon to ask this question but it has been very enjoyable so far. Maybe it would be nice to do it again, but differently. Without the weight perhaps! Ask me again in a couple of weeks.

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

"Taking it easy?"

These immortal words were spoken to us at our brief stop in Wales, 12 miles before today's endpoint. It doesn’t feel like we are taking it easy. This guy was travelling with his friend for 3 days carrying little to no luggage, while said friend did his own LEJOG trip. I suppose he thinks 50miles a day is a ride in the park! I can assure you that it isn’t. We are feeling the effects of our 250 miles. Our legs have become to know and resent the sight of a new hill, giving a little groan as they effort up the steep sections. But up the steep sections we do go. After a little warm up on flat-ish ground we met an almighty hill. It had everything. It was steep. It was long. It was beautiful. At this point I should note that I regard each hill with a certain fondness, once I have made it over the brow. As such, I do not yet have a fondness for any of Scotland. Will claims that this was no Devon or Cornwall affair, but maybe I have gone gradient blind from hours on the bike.

We were suitably rewarded at the top with a fantastic view, of blue skies filled with chartered flights of budget airlines settling into Bristol airport. Descending towards the city we picked up some speed, and brake pads from Halfords. We did not venture into Bristol but just brushed by on our way up to Avonmouth. This section was flatter with water never far from sight, though none could be found in our bottles. Eventually we made it to the Severn bridges. Doing our little bridge weave, we went under one then over one and into Wales.

Lucky for our egos, we didn’t just see downtalkers in Chepstow. Within moments of getting off the bridge we ran into Robin and Donald travelling at just our kind of speed. Coincidentally we had met them back on day 2 in Okehampton. Their route took them to near Wellington, and then Cheddar the following night. Sound familiar? Well, it seems like we have ourselves a pair of shadows, also taking it easy.

Newtrition

Having lived with a dietitian for a few years, I would like to think that I know a thing or two about nutrition. It might only be two things, but that is still not bad going by my reckoning, and it has never stopped me trying to share my two cents at a work lunchtime. I am comfortable with the term glycemic index, and know that each gramme of fat contains a whole 9 calories. I am also somewhat aware of some interaction between calcium and iron, and one preventing the absorption of the other, and that is the only reason why you shouldn't put a steak in your glass of milk. Or maybe it was some other vital nutrients, but you get the idea, I am obviously very well informed.

Despite this blatantly broad and extensive knowledge of the food sciences, I have discovered a few new things about eating whilst on this cycling 'holiday' of ours. The quality of my cycling is directly related to the amount of food that I have eaten. Not being a particularly short person, I find it a struggle in my daily life to eat enough food to prevent me wasting away. Exercising for a number (too many) of hours every day means I have to eat even more. Getting enough energy into the muscles is a continual struggle. 'Carbs', as us cool cyclists like to call them, work best. Unfortunately my favourite breakfast usually involves lots of fried meat, and this doesn't contain many of these precious 'carbs', as was to my error a couple of days ago. For budding long distance cyclists I would recommend eating as many 'carbs' as you possibly can, and I have coined a phrase 'Carbohydrate Loading' for such activities.

A known downside of particular eating habits is excessive wind. Wind was an issue today, but of the head variety (as opposed to bottom). Our book describing the route labelled today's cycling as 'relatively flat'. Relative to Cornwall and Devon it certainly appeared flat, but to compensate we had wind to deal with. At least with a hill, not only do you get to the top, but you get the satisfaction with seeing how far you have climbed up. None of this you get with wind.

Whilst pedalling into the relentlessness of the wind I have made an observation of Somerset. It appears as though every farm we pass produces their own cider, ready to buy, and most of it is award winning too! Disappointingly it doesn't warrant the extra weight, but is added onto the 'to do when doing LE JoG in a car' list. Anyone would think they were famous for their cider round these parts.

We have just spent a night in a B&B with a lovely view of Cheddar reservoir, and we have been given a good tip to avoid unnecessarily going over a hill on the way to Bristol.

Love, Will

Outlook for Devon

What I don't think Will made clear enough, quite how nice people are. Today we ran into Nigel and Tim from Skedaddle, again. We first met Nigel back in Launceston. Back then he kitted us up with enough raisin cereal bars to feed more than 2 cyclists on their way to John O' Groats. This time we got a sandwich and a pork pie too! From what I gather Skedaddle run groups of LeJoGers like us over 3 weeks, looking after them and showing them a route. It sounds like a good idea to me! The generosity doesn't stop there. At every stop we have people say hello and wish us luck, we even got a nice donation from a stranger today.

After another English breakfast with more healthy sides we set off from Okehampton with around 45 miles to our destination of Wellington. Today's route was a lot more scenic. We managed to escape the A30 for country roads, which have a lot more personality, you might say. The enemies became potholes, STEEP hills and lorries in narrow areas. The hills were steep, that's for sure. Will was clocking 38mph on the downs with no pedalling and maybe even 0.38 on the ups, grinding through in the lowest possible gear. All these hills really take it out of your legs. We learned the hard way that cycling gets really hard when your muscles don't have access to a good base of sandwiches, pasta and soft drinks. Despite the magnitude of the climbs we put in through Devon we were better off by the end of the day thanks to food. It seems like my body is starting to understand this, allowing me to sneak in more meals than days 1 and 2. We made a couple of roadside repairs, the hills had taken their toll on Will's back brake pads and unclipping from pedals made our shoes require a bit of tinkering.

The weather today ranged from summer sun to moderate drizzle, with cloudy spells. Stops for lunch occurred in Crediton and Tiverton with intermittant snack breaks in the region of hills. On a personal outlook, spirits today were higher than ever. However, Will has decided to first bring up my character faults at this early stage in the journey and (relatively) late point of my lifetime.

We are settled watching Shaun of the Dead and looking forward to taking on Somerset. Night all

Ups and Downs

I don't think Dan made it clear enough, exactly how difficult it was at the end of yesterday. After being rather pleasantly surprised with my own ability for the first 40 miles, things were looking good. Then that sign, "Bodmin 20" was to be seen on a road sign. It was unnecessarily difficult to climb every hill we came across. I think it took us an hour to get the point where the sign said "Bodmin 16". But all the time I though to myself, tomorrow all I have to do is 40 miles, so I would be all done by now.



After a pasta dinner, and a good size breakfast, I imagined everything would be good for the next day. Little did I know, that those first 10 miles would be even worse than the suffering that went into the last 20 of the day before. At this point I had my first "I have to give-up" moment. I was expecting the first part of the day to be the easy bit, and it to more difficult from then on. Imagine what was yet to come! It took a few energy bars, energy gel, lucozade, water, and a nap at the side of the road before I was feeling any better. But during this time I decided to make a list of all those things that were not my friends:

Hills
Hills
Hills
Hills (even the down ones, because these are usually preceeded by an up, or you can see the next up looming in front of you - or worse, both)
Wind
Bumps
Lorries
Hills
Cats Eyes
My saddle
Cycling

We evenually made it to Lauceston, about half way for today. There we had a pasta salad, ice scream, a rest, a look around the local bike shop (Lauceston cycles), and a glace at the local castle (looked like too many steps to visit it propoerly.

With our tummies full of carbs, we set off for the second half, and were in Devon within moments. Now with my legs feeling strong again, and the very long flat or downhill sections, I was full of confidence and optimism - more than ever! I decided to make a list of things that were my friends:

The flat
The friendly cornish people (or non cornish people sat outside their broken down cars)
Pasta
Sleep
People that leave comments or send me texts!
Cycling
Other Le JoG ers (they feel or pain)

Before I set off to do this expedition, I found my emotions to be in one of two states. This was either extreme confidence, believing it would all be easy and good. Or ultimate terror, believing that I would probably die, or worse, be forced to give up. Nothing has changed since I started, except that the pain is now real. I would be true to say that Cornwall has not been without its ups and downs.

Day one and our target was Bodmin. After our long trip down to Land's End we felt that a lie in was in order so after forcing down as much of our full english breakfast we got back into bed, stretching the time until we checked out. By the time we had got to the very tip of the country, explored and done the compulsory photo taking it was almost approaching noon with our target 60 miles away. At this point we met a couple of lads who just finished the journey in the other direction and they warned us that they found Cornwall to be the hardest part of the journey because of continual ups and downs. It isn't mountainous but "even worse, hilly". With worry, we set off for the long haul.

"Hilly", it was. At first we made good time getting to Penzance and agreed that it was certainly easier the other direction. Perhaps the hills were better viewed from a different angle. More likely, a good night's sleep in a comfortable bed and some food played a bigger role in bringing down the difficulty setting. From then on the hills got steeper and longer. We were lucky to see other end to enders, in particular riding for a while with a great guy called Ben. Like a modern popular artist of the last few months he was riding solo for Unicef and camping.


We took a slight detour through some villages due to roadworks on the A30 before rejoining the main carriageway and splitting company. Our new hobby became watching the number next to Bodmin go down, very slowly. As we got to 20 miles from our final destination and hitting the wall it appeared that the town was actually moving away from us. We passed place after place and the distance literally did not alter. Once we passed this weird area of space-time it did get flatter and easier with us finishing by climbing a steep hill up to our B&B for a well earned hot shower and cup of tea.

Now in an overelaborate wetherspoons in the centre of Bodmin I have the chance to use the Wi-fi thanks to John, who let us share his table so we could use a plug socket. We will sleep well tonight...