AshWarP: LEJOG (End to End) Ride Done - Going Home

Travelling Home from Wick

The LEJOG (End to End) ride completed the night before, it was a strange feeling to be no making plans for setting off to ride our bikes long distances whilst we consumed breakfast.  We figured we still needed to help our bodies to rebuild after the big effort of the last 9 days, so we tucked into yet another big cooked breakfast.  We had been staying in the Norseman Hotel (www.norsemanhotelwick.co.uk) in Wick and there breakfast offering was ample, in a running buffet style, so it seemed rude not to eat heartily.

With the important task of nourishment out of the way, it was just a case of rounding up the gear, which was luckily all dry this time after using the bin liners in the pannier bags.  Packed up and ready to leave and ready to check out of the hotel we decided to have a wander around town and, smart phones in hand, see what options we had for the journey home.  Unlike the car hire to Penzance prior to our departure, we hadn’t decided how we would get home.  We both obviously needed to get home, but with it being a Friday the immediate pressure was off.  Other than the wedding Paul’s was going to attend on the Sunday, we didn’t need to rush home for anything on the weekend (apart from meeting back up with the WAGs).

The Spot in Wick  - Looks Like Just a Toy Shop

We visited the train station in Wick and had a look at our options.  The lady working there was extremely helpful and looked into everything for us.  She even looked at what was going to work best for us, considering we had the bikes, from both a cost and timing point of view.  She seemed to be struggling to get a guaranteed connection at Inverness that would have room for us to put the bikes on.  She suggested us seeking an alternative way of getting the bikes home separately and then our train options would be better.  That sounded like a good plan.  The lady recommend a local toy shop/bike shop that often offered a courier service for the bikes.  Obviously, being one of the larger towns in the area and with a number of accommodation options, Wick seemed to a common place for people riding their cycles End to End to stay.  From that point of view, the locals were all used to seeing cycling tourists and offering them services, help and advice.

We head of to the recommended shop.  It was called “The Spot” and did a large range of toys, models and games along with a range of everyday family cycles.  The man in the shop (Brian) suggested he could do each bike for £50 (fifty pounds), which included both the packing up and shipping of the bike directly to our doors.  We figured that we would need the bikes for a few days when we got home, and tot be fair we both have other bikes if needed, so letting somebody else take care of getting them home seemed like a great idea.  It’s one thing taking the wheels off and putting them in the back of a car, it’s another thing altogether rushing between connecting trains etc. with a bike in tow.  That bit sorted, we head off back to the train station to sort out our tickets and route home before getting the bikes back to the shop, so that Brian could organise the shipping for us.

On the way back to the train station, Paul suggested we look at splitting our journey between the train and bus an the journey home.  We hadn’t got a final price, but the cost of getting home on the train had been stacking up and considering that we’d already parted with fifty quid to remove the hassle of travelling on public transport with bikes, we needed to consider the cost.  Now that we were on foot and travelling with just our pannier luggage our options did open up a bit.  Paul had a look at the Megabus web site on his phone and reckoned that we could pick one up at Inverness and then get back to Preston (we have a big bus station there - was once the largest terminal in Europe, I think) with perhaps one or two changes on the way.  This seemed like a reasonable plan and would definitely save us a few quid compared to making the entire journey by train.  It probably wasn’t going to be a quick and would involve a bit more stopping, but at least we’d be sat down all the way and could rest a bit as we travelled.  We booked the mega bus online and then went back to the train station to sort out the train from Wick to Inverness.

The bikes dropped off with Brian, the travel arrangements sorted and checked out of the hotel, we set off the get on the train.  It wasn’t going to be too far to the first stop in Inverness and we were going to have a reasonable stop there to wait for the connection with the mega bus.  We picked up supplies at the local co-op and got on our way.  The train journey was fairly pleasant.  The train was pretty quiet and the scenery out of the window was good, but not spectacular.  It was a dry, but not overly bright day at this point and it was interesting to pass through a good number of the towns and villages we’d cycled through the day before.

Once in Inverness the weather had taken a turn for the worse.  We had a bit of time to kill, so we stocked up on more supplies, from another co-op, for the rest of the bus ride into the night and grabbed some reading materials (cycling magazines) to read whilst we were on the move.  However, the supplies this time did include a few cans of the local beer.  As we were walking around the rain was coming into my leaky trainer again.  Now that carrying things wasn’t as much of a problem, I set off to investigate what I could purchase as an alternative, more suitable footwear, in the local shops.  We got settled in another Wetherspoon’s first and it set off alone for a bit to explore.  Fortunately, I discovered the local Sports Direct and was soon in position of a nice pair of ’cut-priced’ Karrimor walking boots.  I returned to the Wetherspoon’s pub to meet up with Paul, had a few beers and dined out of burger and chips again.

We departed from the pub and had small wait outdoors to get on the appropriate Megabus.  I can’t remember too much about the journey on the bus, other than the early scenery.  I suppose because a lot of it was in darkness later on, as I don’t think we got back to Preston until something like three or four in the morning.  We did travel along the A9, which a totally different route to the one we’d cycled and that did afford us nice views of the Cairngorms into the early evening until dusk.  We had a change quite early on at Avimore (I think) and then a bit of a stop on the outskirts of Perth at Broxden Park and Ride.  Unfortunately, we weren’t allowed the alcohol on the bus, so we’d had to stash that in the hold with the luggage!  By the next stop at Glasgow, it was quite late at night and completely dark, so it was a case of trying to rest as much as we could and keep our lift from Preston informed (my girlfriend Rachel) as to how we were progressing.  I can never sleep properly sat upright on public transport.  I do doze a bit, but always feel worse when I wake up.  We were totally shattered at the end of the journey, and it was a great relief and pleasure to see Rachel in the bus station car par in Preston.

Our adventure over Paul and I parted ways at his home on the way back to mine.  It was great to be back, but it was a real anti-climax to be not thinking about were we would next be cycling to.  Oh well, maybe next year we can do something similar?

LEJOG (End to End) Day 5 - Out With the Club

Leg 5 - Walton le Dale (Preston) to Carlisle [RVCRC A Ride]

After what seemed like a two minute stop at home we were on the road again.  I’d last spoken to Paul yesterday evening just to check he’d got home OK after we parted in Euxton.  My girlfriend came over to stay as it was going to be the only opportunity to see each other for nearly a fortnight.  I’d been pretty busy with the ride, so it didn’t seem like we’d been away that long, but it always seems longer for the one left at home.  I arrived back before her, but she soon arrived with supplies and we feasted on a Curry to try and get the calories into my body following the one hundred and fifteen mile ride the day before.  There were a few checks to do and a few bits of kit to swap over.  We were possibly expecting to see some snow as we progressed further North, so a few more layers need to be put out to wear and carry.  I had a mental checklist, but decided it was better to get up a bit earlier the following morning and put it all together then.  I’m one of these people that need to take everything out again to check it if I pack the night before, so it’s better just to lay stuff out were I can see it.  I was a little bit stressed about forgetting something when there were other distractions and I wasn’t in the company of a fellow LEJOG participant.  All in all, it was a pleasant and relaxing evening.

The following days ride had been planned for a while in advance.  Paul and I normally ride with the Ribble Valley Cycling Club (RVCRC - Ribble Valley Cycling and Racing Club - www.ribblevalleycrc.com) on a Sunday when we get chance.  When the ride leader became aware that we were coming through Preston on the Sunday he planned a route that would allow him and the other riders to accompany us for at least some of the way.  We left our homes and headed up to Preston College in Fulwood, which is the usual meeting place for the RVCRC Sunday club rides.  That day’s ride leader (Mike Smith) had planned a route that would take us in the right direction but would keep us off the busiest road (A6) for at least the morning.  It was good to catch up with our team-mates and everybody was interested to see how we’d been progressing.  I was personally chuffed that we were going to be joined by one of the older members (Ken Stratford who’s about 80) for some of the morning.  Most people were amazed at the weight of our bikes with the Panniers and luggage.  I’m pretty sure they were glad not to be riding with them.

Ribble Valley CRC Sunday 'A' Ride - The Usual Suspects

After the usual Sunday morning banter, and a bit more because of this unusual long distance ride we got under way again.  I was very tired at this point and was glad to sit in the wheels a bit to start with and just have a chat with as many people as I could.  We got to some more undulating terrain on Mike’s A6 avoiding route and I was always mindful that we’d have to do some reasonably significant climbing to get through Cumbria (which ever way we did it).  However, Paul seemed to have a new lease of life and wanted to show his strength compared to the riders without the extra weight.  I couldn’t avoid doing the same as much as my legs were trying to tell me to do otherwise.  We are lucky to normally be living in this area, from a cycling point of view and we were reminded of this when we made a forced stop to fix one of the groups members puncture.  We had seen some great scenery so far along the way, but some of our local stuff was good enough to match any of that.

A Short Stop for a Mechanical - Fortunately Not Ours (Paul & Ash)

Some of Lancashire's Scenery - As Seen on Our Normal Club Runs

The next stop was Farletonview Tea room (next to Farletonview Fishery - www.farletonviewfisheries.co.uk), a café stop that I remember using once before on a previous Sunday club run.  This was as far North as the other riders could venture with us before heading back to Preston.  I parked the bike up away from where we were sitting in the vain hope that somebody may steal it and I wouldn’t need to do any further riding that day.  The café was pretty busy, but fortunately it was a reasonably mild spring day, so we opted to site outside to eat.  I recounted stories of Paul’s Mars bar and Full English breakfast sports nutrition diet as he tucked into yet another (full) English Breakfast.  We posed for a few photographs of the group before Paul and I bid them farewell and head yet further North.  The next stop was going to Kendal, which wasn’t too far away, to stock up on electrolyte tablets for our drinks bottles.

Ash and Paul at Farletonview Tea room - Not the Usual Club Run

Paul at the Cafe with Another RVCRC 'A'  Rider, David 

If I Park My Bike Here Will Somebody Steal It? - Please Do!

At Kendal we were going to reach a significant fork in the road, we could either stick to the main road route (A6) and pass over Shap Fell or we could venture into the Lake District toward Windermere and climb over Kirkstone Pass.  Our earlier discussions suggested that we were both favouring Shap Fell, as this should be a less steep more drawn out climb that could be taken by lorries.  However, we wouldn’t make the final decision until Kendal.  I’d only ever climbed Kirkstone Pass in the opposite direction (up away from Ullswater and Patterdale) and I remember dying a thousand deaths tackling it after I’d already ridden eighty five miles on the fateful trip.  I didn’t want to go through that again, and considering that we had all that extra weight Shap Fell seemed like a safer option.

Paul with Ride Leader Mike Discussing Our Exit Northwards

Saying Farewell to Our Fellow RVCRC Members 

Kendal Town Centre - A Stop for Electrolytes - Which Way North?

In Kendal we visited Evans Cycles to pick up a new supply of High Five Zero electrolyte tablets (I can‘t remember whether this was in Kendal or not now).  There wasn’t too much time to look around the shop, it was just a case of a quick in and out whilst the other rider minded the bikes.  We’d already earlier visited a health shop to see if they had anything suitable and we struggled to find anything, so the specialist tablets at the specialist bike shop was the only real answer.  Armed with new supplies, we continued Northwards and finally took the decision to travel over Shap Fell.

Views Back Towards Kendal from the Shap Fell Climb

The Road Northwards out of Kendal (A6) was fairly pleasant, but it didn’t take long before the climbing commenced, it was only gradual, but it was going to last for quite a while.  We were probably about half way through the journey, as far as miles to travel and days to ride at this point and the legs were really feeling the day after day long distance riding with more than twenty extra pounds in weight than we were used to riding with.  At this point I quizzed Paul about his ‘Gung ho’ riding style when we were out with the club earlier and admitted that my legs were really feeling it now.  He explained that he was actually feeling much better now, as he’d been fortunate enough to get a leg massage by his wife the night before.  He said the legs almost felt good as new now!  I had missed a trick here, I hadn’t made time for such an activity the night before at my house and was now wishing I had.

Views Over Gurnal Bridge Lane From A6

The climb up Shap Fell was a drag, but fortunately the road wasn’t too busy and the traffic was kept away from us in the latter parts of the ascent, as there is a passing lane.  For some time I was the slowest person on record, using the web site I upload my Garmin 200 activity to which is called Strava (www.strava.com).  There are sections of road marked on Strava, called segments, and riders submitting there GPS device files to the web site can see how they compare to other riders on the marked segments.  We had no means of uploading the files whilst out on the road, we could only recharge our Garmins when we stopped in the evening.  We had to wait until we returned home before we had access to computers to carry out the upload.  I had uploaded the first four leg’s data the night before and was now wishing I’d opted for the aforementioned massage instead.  The Shap Fell isn’t the highest in the world, but if you look at the profile of the day’s ride, it is a significant lump in the middle.  The Shap Fell Strava segment can be seen here:

http://app.strava.com/segments/1148300

As you can see, I am well down the leader board, but surprisingly I am no longer the last rider.  I can only presume that the people currently in 225th and 226th position are fellow End to End riders or very new to cycling.  I keep meaning to go back to Shap and post a time without the baggage, but it just a bit far to do a loop in one day from home.

Views from the Early Parts of Shap Climb - Any Excuse for a Rest

We eventually reached the summit of Shap Fell.  Whilst it wasn’t a County Border marker (incidentally, we must have missed the Cumbrian one by using the minor roads up to Kendal), it was a significant point on the ride and possibly the highest point we would reach.  It was much cooler at the top and there was a little bit of sleet and snow in the air.  Paul had been previously been talking about his new raincoat, which he’d christened the ’body condom’, but this was the first time it had been displayed to me and used.  Even if we didn’t need such garments for the rain and snow, we now had to do a lot of descending down towards Penrith, so we needed to keep the chill off.  It was good news that we were going to be going mainly down hill for the rest of the day now, but after working up a sweat you need to keep warm when travelling fast and pedalling less often.

Paul Sporting His 'Condom' Checks-In From Shap Fell Summit

The Road Leading South From Shap Fell Summit

The Road Leading North From Shap Fell Summit

Our Bikes Parked Near the Weather Station on Shap Fell

I really can’t remember much about navigating our way through Penrith.  Our thoughts were now to our next overnight stay and our accommodation.  Up until Preston every aspect of the trip had been planned out.  Each night previously we knew where we needed to be and exactly where we’d be sleeping.  For the second half of the overall journey, we’d decided to be a bit more flexible.  We hadn’t yet decided whether we were going to take a Easterly or Westerly route through Scotland and whether we were going to pass through Edinburgh or Glasgow.  Also, we were more nervous about the weather conditions (there had been reports of snow in Scotland) and didn’t want to book accommodation only to lose our money by not getting to the planned destinations due to unforeseen circumstances.

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We were fortunate, we now had things like mobile phones with Internet connection wherever we were and we were able to use apps (little computer programs on the phone) to help us find our way and book a place to stay.  Even though Paul had a more sophisticated Garmin than mine, with GPS map, we’d still tended to use Google Maps on the smart phones as a way of navigating when we were unsure.  I’d previously done quite a lot of last minute booking whilst out on the road whilst either travelling for work or on a couple of road trips I’d had to France and Spain.  The app of choice was booking.com, but we were open to keeping a look out for suitable establishments as we rode along.

Prior to leaving Preston the first time, Paul had done quite a lot of research around the options in various places.  Even though it wasn’t definite that we’d be visiting or staying in Carlisle, he’d become familiar with a few of the options, and knew that there was a Premier in on the run in on the A6.  With the down hill sections and some flatter roads, we seemed to get there in no time.  Whilst I often ascended the climbs a little quicker than Paul before regrouping at the top, I could barely keep on his wheel on the dual carriageway approach to the city.  We pulled up in a lay-by across the road from the potential accommodation and Paul had a look at the room options on his phone.  At the same time I had a look at the booking.com app on my phone and came up with some options in the city centre.  We opted for the city centre, as it meant we could progress further along the way towards Scotland on the Sunday, the offer was better at the hotel I’d found and our evening meal options were going to be better in the more built up areas.

Paul does the Final Check-In of the Day From Our Hotel Room

We chose the Cumbria Park Hotel in Carlisle, as we could get a twin room and breakfast for a very reasonable rate.  It was less than just the room out of town.  The staff were very friendly and whilst there wasn’t anywhere safe out front or a car park around the back to leave the bikes the desk receptionist allowed us to put them in one of the smaller function rooms that wasn’t being used that night.  We got to the room, which was spacious and pleasant but a little old fashioned, checked in with Facebook followers etc. and freshened up.  The hotel offered us the option of dining in that night also, but we opted to go out and have a little look around town.  Rather than going and sitting down in a restaurant, Paul suggested we have a look around for a take away establishment.  We found several.  There were two close together which gave us the option of Fish and Chips or things like Kebabs and Pizzas.  Paul suggested that there may be the potential of sampling a strictly Scottish takeaway delicacy, ‘battered haggis’, if we went to the chippy.  I liked the sound of this, and whilst I’d had haggis many years before, I had definitely never sampled the chip shop battered variety before.

Not Quite in Scotland Yet, But Time for a Haggis

Battered Haggis and Chips as Sampled in Carlisle

As we left the chip shop I had a near miss with the traffic.  It wasn’t busy on the roads (we were walking) and we’d started to cross the road in plenty of time, but a car appear to be approaching fast and I started to run to ensure that we’d get across in time before the car arrived.  However, my legs had now ceased to function properly, I was felling a twinge from every time I took a step forward and when I picked them up in an attempt to run absolutely nothing happened.  This was a worry, both in the sense of the looming traffic and for generally getting about.  The only saving grace was that they seemed to work better and not feel so bad when we were out on the bikes.  If I ever do this type of thing again (a long distance bike ride), I will try and take measures to look after my legs a bit better at the end of the day.  I had a deep heat ointment, which I used at the end of the day and often in the morning before riding, but on reflection I probably could have done with using some oils on the skin to try and rub out some of the soreness and toxins from the leg muscles.  When all said and done there were two of us, some it would have been feasible to help with the maintenance of each other’s limbs.  However, we were already taking some ’Facebook Flack’ for room sharing (somebody suggested we’d be pushing the twin beds together), so heaven forbid rumours would get out there that we’d been rubbing each other down with scented oils!

All in all Preston to Carlisle was a tough but enjoyable day.  It was great to share part of the ride with our cycling buddies and we were still being fortunate with the weather conditions.  Also, we’d been very lucky as far as any incidents that would impede our progress or cause us to have to abort the whole thing were concerned.  So far everything was going very well and according to plan.  It was by no means easy, but it wasn’t a case of hating every pedal stroke.  We could have done a few things better, but generally things were working out well.  Tomorrow we’d be in another country and soon I’d be venturing to places I’d never been near before.

LEJOG (End to End) Day 4 - Homeward Bound

Leg 4 - Ladywood (Birmingham, West Midlands) to Walton le Dale (Preston)

There were mixed feelings on this leg.  It had been a good night on Friday and we were sad to be leaving Birmingham and Dave’s hospitality, but we were looking forward to having a night back at base.  As previously mentioned, it wasn’t always the norm that riders doing the End to End would have the chance of passing their home town on the route, let alone stay a night at home in the middle.  We were going to be mainly following two of England’s historical A roads passing through Whitchurch.  We were going to be taking the A41 out of Birmingham and up to Whitchurch and then the A49 into Lancashire and home.  The road up to historical Shropshire town was new territory for us, and should at least be interesting, whereas the A49 was well travelled by us and was not going to give any surprises.

Saying Farewell to Birmingham - Dave and Paul

Prepared for the Homeward Leg - Dave and Ash

We departed form Dave’s well fed and head out of the city up towards Wolverhampton.  Fortunately the roads were reasonable quiet, as we were relatively early for a Saturday morning.  We soon stopped to get supplies for the day at a local shop on the outskirts.  Paul required another dozen Mars bars for the trip to the North West.  I was on bike watch initially, before going to obtain my fruit and flapjacks.  Whilst waiting I befriended a pretty large Great Dane left outside by another customer of the shop.  I was just a bit concerned about it’s interest in us with all our days supplies on show.  I’d had a slight altercation with a jogger just before, when he’d decided to stumble across the road inches in front of me when there was hardly any traffic and he could have crossed the road at any point to avoid the possible collision.  So in meeting the huge dog, it was nice to be dealing with a local that was more approachable.

Paul with Our Newly Found Friend the Great Dane - Watch Your Chocolate

We continued North up the A41 away from the Midland’s built up areas and into Shropshire.  Being on main roads we managed to find the County border signs again so continued with our new found tradition of capturing the moment and relaying the evidence back home via the Internet.  We didn’t feel a visit to the ELYSIUM Health and fitness club would be necessary, as we were doing more than our fair share of exercise during this ten day cycling stint.

Oops! Paul Caught Mid Comfort Break at the Border Check-In

Paul at the Shropshire Border

Ash Arrives at Shropshire - Our Gym is 1000 Miles Long & Outdoors

As we progressed along the A41 we passed another religious architecture photo opportunity on the outskirts of Tong, so I stopped to take it.  We got near to the Collegiate Church of Saint Bartholomew in Tong so graphical evidence was taken despite Paul’s quips.  The day was OK, but it was a bit grey, felt cooler than the day before and we seemed to be pushing into a slight headwind.  However, we couldn’t complain, as we were still dry and hadn’t yet needed our rain jackets.  That’s no mean feat when your venturing over three hundred miles through more than seven English counties in the spring (well any time of year, come to think of it).  The next stop was going to be for lunch in Whitchurch and we’d pass out of Shropshire and back into Staffordshire only to return to each county again.

The Collegiate Church of Saint Bartholomew in Tong

The Collegiate Church of Saint Bartholomew - Tong, Shropshire

Another Day and Another County - Paul at the Check-In

Ash at the Staffordshire County Border - We Passed In and Out Several Times

It was nice to stop in Whitchrch though, I’d passed this historical place a number of times previously, but had never before ventured into the town.  It just seemed to take a long time to get there.  In some respects the day was quite monotonous, as we were generally thinking about the night in our own beds rather than the days journey.  We stopped at Juan’s Café - Restaurant - Bar, for some refreshments.  Another hearty meal was consumed to help fuel the pedalling efforts, but at this point the novelty of photographing it was wearing a little thin.  We were certainly consuming enough calories, but I was sometimes concerned about the fruit and vegetable intake when I was travelling with a lachanophobic that that that potatoes qualified.  Paul genuinely though that if he had chip, crisps, mash, roast and boiled potatoes than he’d satisfied his ’five a day’ dietary needs.

Paul Approaches the Outskirts of Whitchurch

We were approached by a local, as we’d been before in many of the stops along the way, who was curious (seeing the luggage on our bikes) about where we were travelling to and from.  We made him aware that we were doing the End to End and he turned out to be a fellow cyclist who was reasonably knowledgeable on the subject.  He informed us that Whitchurch was host to many cyclists making the great journey, particularly in the summer months.  It seemed to be that whilst some, like ourselves would deviate slightly from a standard or preferred route, it was most common for people on the journey to pass through, stop or even stay in the town.  Either way, it was good to meet people who were genuinely interested in our endeavour and were keen to wish well along our way.

Saint Alkmunds Church in Whitchurch, Shropshire

After finishing our food and drink at Juan’s, we decide to hit the road again.  I suggested to Paul that he could get on the move again and I would shortly catch him up after photographing a few of the local landmarks.  This was something that we’d done quite often along the way already.  Paul set of and I followed him slowly down the High Street taking in views of the Black Bear pub and the Church of Saint Alkmunds.  I eventually packed up my camera and headed out of the town and towards the A49 to catch up with Paul.  As stated before this was going to be a fairly boring stretch as we’d ‘see it all before’.  I seemed to be pedalling at a fairly reasonable rate, but Paul had left some time before.  However, my catch up was taking much longer than it normally had.  I upped my speed a little and continued to chase down Paul.  After a good number of miles along the A49 I just hadn’t had a sight of him in the distance, let alone caught him up.  However, he’d left Whit church a reasonable time before me, so he therefore must still be ahead of me up the road.

A Typical Whitchurch Building - The Black Bear Public House

I continued to ride frantically Northward’s and was amazed at Paul’s new found power.  I was sure he’d need to stop for a natural break or to drop another couple of Mars bars at some point, at which time I should catch him up.  I stuck faithfully to the A49 and passed near or through Tarporley.  I’d been going for over an hour alone now and was starting to worry, but I found it strange that he would have deviated from the route.  It was pretty straight forward and we both already knew it fairly well.  I hadn’t had any emergency phone calls, or so I thought, so I pushed on.  I got to point where I was very nearly at Warrington had had travel almost thirty miles, it just didn’t seem right that we hadn’t met up yet.  I pulled over to call Paul on the mobile phone.  What I had missed is that he’d already called me several times and left voicemails.  This was somewhat easier for him to do than me as he’d been sensible enough to set-up a hands free way of using his iPhone to call people without stopping and getting off the bike.  I hadn’t!  I called him back.  During the conversation it became apparent that he’d taken a different (Southward) route out of Whitchurch and actually picked up the A49 after me even though I’d set off after him.  No wonder I never got to him, I was riding harder and harder and faster and faster to catch up with somebody that was actually behind me on the road.  I, by this time, was twenty to thirty minutes ahead of Paul.  I eased off, and we made plans to meet up in Warrington, before finishing the leg together.  It was a little bit cool hanging about near the bridge over the River Mersey in Warrington, but it wasn’t too long before Paul arrived and I spent a bit of time speaking to my girlfriend on the phone.




Back together now, the last stretch was mind numbing.  I had psychologically set myself up to arrive back at home by tea-time (about 6 pm), but it was nearly this time and we were still in Warrington.  At this point we’d have had roughly thirty more miles to travel and at our normal LEJOG pace, this was going to take about two hours.  We passed through the centre of Wigan and I guided Paul through some of the pedestrianised streets, past Mesnes Park and up towards ‘The Cherry Gardens’ (public house).  Apparently, he felt he was lost on previous visits to the town and was always under the impression that he was travelling the ’long way round’.  Hopefully, with my superior local knowledge (I’m long time Wigan Rugby League fan and used to visit Central Park often) we passed through the town a little bit quicker than he normally would have.

I just wanted to be home now.  There were no County border check-ins now, Lancashire was nothing new for us and other than seeing loved ones there, was nothing to get exited about.  Stopping would just delay that happening.  We got to the outskirts of Euxton and I needed a natural break, whilst only about ten miles from home, it was a bit cooler now and I couldn’t wait.  There was realistically another forty minutes of riding from hear.  This was very frustrating, as without the luggage, it would be about thirty.  We decided that it didn’t make any sense Paul waiting around for me, as we were ultimately heading for different destinations and Paul had three or four miles to cover compared to me (I’d have to make those up the following morning).  The end of the A49 seemed to take forever on my own again.  I final got to the edge of Bamber Bridge (the village next time mine).  This was a very welcome sight and I was very soon back at home.

All in all, this was my least favourite day of the entire journey, but there were some good bits and it was good to be briefly back at home.