The Lakeland Loop: Day Four - Buttermere to Eskdale

Day 4 of our Lakeland Loop trip was also my 46th birthday and the day we were destined to go over Black Sail Pass. The previous three days were catching up with me and I woke up tired or rather didn't wake up despite the fact that I was riding my bike. I was pretty much asleep as we tried our best to cycle the route that led between Buttermere and Crummock Water and then over the top to Mosedale Beck but it seemed an impossible task. The route had turned into some sort of rocky hell hole that then digressed further into intermittent boggyness and finally impossible upwards gradients. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing to be at least three quarters asleep. Eventually we got a rapid descent down into Ennerdale for all our hard work and found ourselves on a pathway with high walls on either side. This became rather awkward when a fallen tree totally obstructed the path but with a bit of manoeuvring we managed to squeeze underneath it although Mark was abruptly reminded that he still had a rucksack attached when he couldn't quite fit on his first attempt.

We were under the impression that there would be 'tea and buns' at Bowness but there was not so much as a crumb to be had and it was the same story at Ennerdale yha and Black Sail yha. We should have booked a packed lunch to bring with us from Buttermere yha but we hadn't ... The most difficult aspect of the fire roads through Ennerdale Forest turned out to be a man and his dog. The dog walker obviously knew the score because he did his best to put as much distance as he could between us and his dog. Mark, on the other hand, was oblivious to the possibility of attack pretty much until the moment the dog nipped him quickly on the ankle. The dog was lucky as clip ins prevented a swift retaliation and Mark was still cursing the dog when we arrived at Black Sail Hut from where we could see the towering mountain pass for which we were destined on the other side of the valley. 

It was at this stage in the proceedings that I finally woke up. As usual Mark was leading the way over what is 'the Loop's second official carry'; feeling a tad sorry for me he came back to offer me a hand with my bike. This kick started me into action as there was no way I was going to forego the pleasure of claiming I had done the Loop ALL by myself. I would get myself and my bike over every inch of said route if it took me forever ... it probably seemed like forever to Mark as he was forced to watch me creep ever higher up the pass. To cap it all there appeared to be a group of older gentlemen watching our antics from the comfort of Black Sail Hut. I would loved to have heard their comment  'eh, look at that fellow letting that poor woman struggle on up there without so much as lending a hand'. It cheered me up no end as I considered such imaginary conversations far below.

The good mood lasted to the col but carrying your bike downhill just doesn't seem right and the initial descent was so difficult neither of us could hold our nerve to ride it. We blamed the lack of food and extreme exertion for our shakiness but I think we might have been kidding ourselves. However, once the descent became slightly less radical it was pure delight as we zigged and zagged for all we were worth right into Wasdale Head Inn and two of the largest bar meals that money could buy. 

After gorging ourselves to bursting point it was onwards and upwards for the third time that day and a blur of wet, grassy, boggy, unrideable surfaces - I think I might have been a touch mardy until we final skirted Burnmoor Tarn. Then we had the pleasure of a wonderful techy descent all the way down into Boot and our bed for the night at Eskdale yha. Mad as it sounds I think I need to do this day again when I'm not quite so knackered before I start!

C2C Second Time Round: Whitehaven to Tynemouth

Every once in a while its natural to get the urge to do something a bit different and my mate Carol decided that the C2C was the challenge for her which is how I came to do the C2C for a second time in 2010 ... she persuaded me ... I persuaded my sister ... and then despite it being 'biking for girls' we all persuaded our other halves. A biking holiday would be a great laugh I said - Carol took exception to the use of the noun 'holiday' given the level of mental and physical torture she was anticipating but it was all for a good cause. She was raising money for the National Autistic Society and had already advertised the fact that she was doing the Whitehaven to Tynemouth route when we realised that entailed a longer and somewhat more strenuous start to the trip. There was much cursing before hand but as we sat feeding our faces in Siskin's cafe at the top of Whinlatter Pass it was agreed by one and all that the scenery we had just passed through was more than worth the extra effort. Definitely the best place to start from so far!

The route from Keswick to Penrith was familiar from last time and we were blessed with a sunny rain free day which was pretty exceptional given the rain and wind that we'd had all week. These may seem like inane comments but when you've cycled in the latter you are very grateful for the former and we arrived at our B&B with plenty of time for a good soak in the bath before wandering down to The George Hotel for food. It had been a 5am start and a 54 mile route over terrain somewhat hillier than that found in Rutland where Carol normally does her biking - she could barely keep her eyes open and eat at the same time. There was just time to purchase painkillers and snacks for the next days riding before sleep claimed us all.

While four of us headed out of Penrith on Saturday morning, the other two made a detour to the local bike shop to pick up some bar ends. It wasn't until we had completed the first major climb of the day and made it to the warmth of Hartside Cafe that we all regrouped for lunch. Everyone was elated with the climb, no one more so that my hubby who appeared to have a waterfall of sweat cascading down his face as he bounced through the doors of the cafe claiming he'd 'just taken it steady' up the hill. Obviously!!

I had been concerned about the cycle from Penrith to our bed for the night just outside of Rookhope. There were some serious hills to be conquered and in truth you were either inching your way painfully up a monster climb or burning brakes on the next descent - there was no middle ground. I need not have been worried. Carol's satisfied countenance appeared over the top of every climb, 'amazing' she would pant before pedalling on. Red legs meant she was on the way up and blue legs signalled a descent in progress. 

The long, winding descent from Hartside down into Leadgate is fabulous payback for all the hard work done but then comes the climb out of Garigill for me the most gruelling of the four climbs of the day. Last time round we'd broken this climb up with some well earned rests but there was no such luxury this time much to Fee's consternation. Still she had enough breath left to articulate her feelings over this minor oversight so we figured she couldn't have really needed the rests. Must be getting fitter! Next it was the vertical descent into Nenthead. Steve had brought the kitchen sink with him and so aided by gravity and a kamikazi mentality he went for it clocking 40 mph plus before rounding the final corner of the descent to find a fast approaching T junction in his view. There was a distinct smell of smoke and burning brakes when the rest of us arrived at a more life preserving pace sensible moments later. 

From Nenthead we pressed upwards again to Black Hill, the highest point of the route and into Northumberland before swooping down to Allenheads and finally being allowed a hot drink at the cafe. Then it was yet another ascent over the top this time into the County of Durham and a glorious sight - the road winding downhill as far as the eye could see. We could almost taste the finish line for the day and at least this time round it would come as no surprise that the B&B was at the top of yet one more hill! 

Day three and we were all still alive and kicking. There was just that wee hill out of Stanhope and it would be down hill all the way to the sea. Crawleyside Bank was not going to defeat us no matter how long, how steep or how cruel it was. One by one we pedalled our way up and on to Parkhead cafe where it was hot chocolate with marshmallows to celebrate. Mark J had cycled every last one of the climbs despite biking not really being his sport and a rather ancient stead - another convert?! 

After that we were on a roll, literally, the Waskerley Way flew by and then on the edge of Consett we turned left and headed towards Rowlands Gill and Tynemouth. It was easy cycling compared with the day before but still scenic as the old railway line wended its way through peaceful woodlands. There was the occasional bridge or viaduct to bring a frisson of excitement as we looked down on tree tops and contemplated not jumping. The threatened rain never materialised until we were pedalling through the centre of Newcastle and we dived into a Witherspoons Pub for our last meal together. By the time we emerged for the final ten miles it was sunshine as usual. We were so intent on finishing that we were caught by surprise by the American cyclist tucked in close (on the wrong side of the road) as we all converged on yet one more corner. A bit of a pile up ensued as Mark L went head to head with the poor man and I slammed into the back of them both. Luckily it was only cuts and grazes and the smell of the sea soon distracted us. What a fantastic three days, not only great cycling but great company and memories that will last long afterwards. Thank you Carol for giving us all such a good excuse to get together - when can we do it again?

The Lakeland Loop: Day Three - Bassenthwaite to Buttermere

Day three dawned and we left the civilisation of our  Lakeside Country Guest House for another day of needless toil. As if to emphases this point, as we headed towards Braithwaite, we managed forest detours via Wythop Mill and Whinlatter just for the hell of it, or so it seemed. Still there was a whizzy little descent through Wythop Woods that I'd missed on my C2C route earlier in the year and the bike shop and cafe at Whinlatter Visitor Centre both came in useful. Then we were flying down Whinlatter pass avoiding eye contact with those poor souls creeping past in the upward direction.

The floods earlier in the year had taken out a vital bridge in Newlands Valley and the road was besieged with signs alerting us to this fact but we were not keen on any further detours so we manhandled our bikes across both river and new flood defences before wending our way up onto the Cat Bells bridleway. The sun shone and the scenery sparkled as we paralleled Derwent Water just far enough away to maintain our serenity. Then as the bridleway descended into a rocky avenue lined with stone walls the mind became more focused on the loose surface and plentiful drop offs. Confidence blossomed and I over estimated just how far the forks could travel before bottoming out and dumping me unceremonishly over the bars in front of a group of elderly walkers. Oops!

As we free wheeled into Grange it seemed to me that a ice cream was called for but my suggestion was met with a grumpy response. I pointed out that this was suppose to be a holiday and that a woman can be pushed too far - I didn't really know what was ahead of me otherwise I might have had two!! The road up past Ashness Bridge was steep and winding and the sun was merciless as I slowly hauled my sweaty body past more sedate tourists; 'are you mad or are you sick' asked one cheerful group ... But it was worth it, Surprise View provided a stunning yet secluded vista of Derwent Water and was the perfect resting spot before continuing onwards. We exited the woods above Surprise View to see, what appeared to me, some new and undiscovered valley reminiscent of the 'hidden valley' of childhood films laid out before us. A truly magical place which only improved with our arrival at Watendlath cafe tucked away at the very end of the unwinding tarmac.  'Mr Smith I can confirm you were correct in your assessment of the flapjack!'

Refreshed from large quantities of tea and flapjack we continued off road over Grange Fell and then made the most of the hairy descent to Rosthwaite before killing a few more gentle miles to Seatoller. Anticipation was building as I knew Honistor pass was looming near and all that that entailed. I didn't know if my determination to ride the pass would really see me to the top, the gradient was punishing in places and endless, endless, endless. I tried desperately to distract myself from the torturous ascent, the heat, the lack of respite but it was the bare fact that pushing up wouldn't actually be any easier that kept me going. And then suddenly Mark was there taking photos and cheering and I realised that this was as far as the road went and that I'd done it - oh yeah! The descent was awesome. It started cool, in the shade of the fells and windy; eerily different from the ascent as if marking a transition. The road surface was rough and uneven like the tarmac had set in watery waves and then it unfolded into glorious, dazzling light, a carpet of lakeland greenery scattered through the dizzy descent ending with trees and rhododendrons and a picturesque youth hostel complete with sunny veranda. Obviously I tried out the veranda while Mark found a home for the bikes. Day three done and dusted.