Can I do 65 miles in a day? Or will it be a call of shame.....(with pics this time!)

Let's just backtrack a bit, if you don't mind!  Husband finally managed to bluetooth my photos  across from the old phone to his new phone, and from there to the PC. Isn't modern life complicated sometimes.... The first one is at Windrush, near Burford, where I stopped for lunch on my first day. I just put this one in as it's the best one I've got of what I was carrying on my bike. Incidentally another last minute decision before leaving home the day before was to carry the rucksack (on the bench) my Deuter speed lite 5 litre, rather than using my home made cotton drawstring one which I normally stuff in my panniers and then just take out and carry when necessary. It was all to do with freeing up space. I thought I might find I got sweaty with it on my back, but in fact it was fine and didn't bother me at all.

My beast of burden

Now here is the campsite at Aston Somerville, a few miles south west of Broadway, called Manor Farm Glamping, where I stayed the first night. As you can see I was most definitely not in the glamping bit, but the wild camping bit. I knew very little about campsites before I went, and found this one just by searching the internet. It was £10 a night.

My pitch

Compost toilet straight ahead, washing facilities (with shower) on the right, my pitch over to the left.

Now on to my ride home.

I'd asked for breakfast as early as possible today, which was 7.15, and was up about an hour before. I didn't sleep as well as the night before – the kind of tiredness you get from wandering round the NEC all day obviously doesn't make for as good a night's sleep as cycling/awful camping/more cycling did on my first night there! I polished off the same breakfast again, and left about 8.30. As I was attending to my bike outside the B and B the same Mature Redditch Lady I had spoken to at the bus stop the day before passed by, walking her dog, and we chatted again.

Then it was off down the road opposite, towards Sambourne, and very soon I was on the West Midlands Cycle Route. It was chilly but promised to be a lovely day, although it was still windy. The first few miles I was sailing along thinking “Oh isn't this lovely!” - the countryside was beautiful, particularly where the road crossed over a ford at Coughton. Some dogs rushed into the lovely clear water, swam around and then ran off again to find their owner, who probably didn't realize that I was there or he would have done his business a little more privately....at least he had his back to me. 

The ford at Coughton

The route passed over a footbridge, where I followed it to Great Alne and then I left it and headed south towards Welford-on-Avon, Long Marston and Mickleton. As usual I went a bit wrong and did two or three extra miles as a result. I thought -

“Better not do that too often or I really won't make it home today....”

I'd resolved not to stop properly before I'd got 20 miles under my belt. I did have a banana break and a salted peanuts break, but that was all and I was sorely tempted to stop for coffee before this as there were several enticing signs to cafes. I even resisted the temptation to branch off a short distance to Hidcote Gardens, not that I'd have paid to go into the gardens – I just thought there might be a very nice National Trust cafe there with, you know, very nice facilities.

I actually stopped after 22 miles in a little village called Ebrington (Gloucestershire - by that time I wasn't sure which county I was in so checked with the lady watering the hanging baskets) where I had coffee in a pub garden – and what a lovely garden it was too! 

Pub garden at Ebrington

 I'm sure it was as good as Hidcote would have been..... Good coffee too, and in a nice mug! By then I'd already used hedgerow facilities so didn't need the pub's. As I was pausing down the road afterwards to text Husband to let him know where I was (as pre-arranged), two cyclists appeared and I saw them looking down the hill at me and joking - 

“Well she's looking at her compass so she's lost too!” (Compass? No, my ancient Nokia.)

I called back that I wasn't lost! They boasted that they'd got maps. I said I'd got maps too so na na ne na na!

Beefore I pootled off again they called out, kindly -

“So you're not lost then, you're all right?”

“Yes thank you, just texting my husband to let him know I'm not lost!”

By then it was warm and sunny, though that pesky wind was still there, and I cycled off on my way towards Moreton-in-Marsh. I came across the two cyclists again, sitting on a bench, and they said -

“Are you sure you're not lost?!”

“No, just checking my map!”

Then we chatted a bit. They were working out a route for a bike event, and were quite impressed when I told them about my ride. They pootled off again, arguing a bit, and adding -

“We're like an old couple – we always bicker!”

Then I did get lost........ and finally gave in to technology and to save any more lost time (pardon the pun!) I turned on the GPS to find out where I was. Having sorted myself out, I turned round and cycled back, only to pass the two cyclists again! This time they were sat outside a pub having lunch and they called out -

“You ARE lost aren't you!”

“Well I was but I'm not now!”

Not long after this I stopped to obey the call of nature again. I climbed over a gate into a field, did my business behind the hedge, and then got the shock of my life. No, not someone watching me, or a bull approaching, but literally the shock of my life! For some reason I had put my hand on the fence wire......not realizing it was electrified!! Quite a jolt to say the least. There was no warning sign – I suppose there didn't have to be as it wasn't by a footpath, but all the same I did think that maybe the farmer out of the kindness of his heart could have labelled it, just to be nice to potential climbers-over-his-gate-and-users-of-his-hedge.

Just before Moreton-in-Marsh there was quite a long hill - 600 feet of elevation to be precise. I did do quite well in getting up hills on this ride generally, although I wasn't averse to giving up and pushing either. The wind by then was VERY strong and it was quite tough going. I was very glad when I finally reached the top, although because of the wind I found I was still pedalling when I should have been freewheeling. That weather expert of mine told me later that the winds might well have been up to 30 mph.

I spotted a Budgen's supermarket just near the junction where I came into Moreton-in-Marsh, and made a beeline for it. I really wanted cherries again and thought they were bound to have some nice English ones as we were not far from the fruit growing area, i.e. the Vale of Evesham, where I'd got my lovely freshly picked ones at Boston Farm, but would you believe it they only had SPANISH ones! How stupid, I thought, and refused to buy them. Too many food miles. Instead I bought a punnet of ENGLISH strawberries. Then I spotted the hot cooked chicken counter, and thought that I could very happily gnaw on some drumsticks, so bought a couple of those, and then got some freshly squeezed orange juice and a bottle of water. I'm putting in this foodie detail because I find it very interesting knowing what other people eat, or don't eat, when they are cycling, or running. I read a fascinating book recently by the ultra runner Scott Jurek all about his vegan diet. Not that I have any desire to go vegan.

And the reason for eating the salted peanuts earlier was because our next door neighbour, who is one of those cyclists who does MILES AND MILES every day, had recently done a 200 miler (nutter!) and got cramp near the end of the ride, but had solved the problem with salted crisps and Coke and finished the ride. As I have a tendency to get cramp anyway I thought eating salted peanuts would be a good idea. And I didn't get cramp.

I relaxed on a bench in the middle of the main street, eating the chicken and some of the strawberries, drinking the juice, and doing a bit of people watching. Moreton-in- Marsh was a handy place for me to refuel and rest, but like Bourton-on-theWater on my first day, it's spoilt in the summer by all the cars.

Moreton-in-Marsh

Then it was off into the wind and sun again towards Milton-under-Wychwood. If I'd had time I would have gone through Adlestrop rather than just skirting round it, as Edward Thomas's words were going round my head – Oh come on, let's have a poem, it's not very long -

Yes, I remember Adlestrop
The name, because one afternoon
Of heat the express-train drew up there
Unwontedly. It was late June.

The steam hissed. Someone cleared his throat.
No one left and no one came
On the bare platform. What I saw
Was Adlestrop -- only the name

And willows, willow-herb, and grass,
And meadowsweet, and haycocks dry,
No whit less still and lonely fair
Than the high cloudlets in the sky.

And for that minute a blackbird sang
Close by, and round him, mistier,
Farther and farther, all the birds
Of Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire.

As it was, I, like Edward Thomas, only saw the name.

Did he see willow-herb in “late June”? If he meant Rose Bay Willow Herb, it's actually flowering now, in August.

It was pretty hot by now and when I saw a sprinkler at the side of the road I thought

“Well how kind of someone to provide a passing hot cyclist with a nice cooling shower!”

Can you see the water jets just there on the left?

and I dashed through it a couple of times, before riding off again much refreshed. Actually it was there to water the verge which I thought was ridiculous. What a waste of water! It also seemed to be watering the road as much as the verge! Verges won't exactly die from lack of water. But this was probably a bit belonging to someone rather rich who clearly didn't want his verge brown.

By the way, on this day I did so enjoy the sights and smells and sounds of harvest - the smell of freshly cut corn, the chugging noise and dust from the combines, the tractors hauling trailer loads of straw. It all seems so familiar, even though Husband has not worked on the farm since 2003. He says he sometimes misses the work, but not the long hours. Now he knows when he starts (7 am) and when he finishes (3.30). It's a rare day when he has to work an extra hour in the warehouse, and he can map out his days off for months ahead. It's hard physical work though and there's that thing of - are the workers achieving their rate? No? Well why not? Work a bit harder even if you are already working as hard as age and health permit! (even though some don't.....) It's just like in the Amazon warehouses.There's a cost to cheap food in the supermarket.....

I paused again at Kingham, for more strawberries and juice. And then it was pretty much on into Burford, another oh so pretty village utterly spoilt by cars. I wouldn't want to live there, especially in the summer. Here they are, blocking both lanes, at the top of the very steep hill I'd just pushed up and where I stopped for yet more refreshments. My supplies were now getting low but I reckoned I had enough to get me home.

Cars blocking the road both ways at Burford

Now I was beginning to feel that I was really getting near home, as I only had about another 20 miles to go. I can't believe I'm writing that as only a few years ago I thought I was doing well to cycle 5 miles into our local town, and back! 

I skirted round Carterton, and came south through Clanfield (stopped to dig deep into all pockets and polish off almost all of my last bits of food) and Faringdon, still with very strong winds, and finally - home at 8 pm, 11 1/2 hours since I'd left Redditch. 66.7 miles, the furthest I've ever done in a day. Then straight into the shower. Husband dished up food for me, and then I just about managed to clean my teeth before collapsing into bed.

I was really pleased not only to have made it home but to have done so without experiencing the bonk. I think I've learnt a lot about what to eat and what not to eat on a long ride.

And now I can't wait to go on another tour.......

I hope you've enjoyed reading this!

Lizzie