Thursday 11th July: Day 12, Golden Inn to Lands End, 106 miles!

The porridge knew this was the last day and had one last serving. I packed up and left the Golden Inn at 8am, pretty good for me. From here though there is no natural diagonal route heading SW. The A30 takes that line but I wanted to advoid it at all costs, so pedalled west through Holsworthy and towards Bude. Finally, it was the A39, crossing the county border and heading towards the final goal.

Crossing the river estuary at Wadebridge

Planning the last 30 miles. I was now on the last page of the map.

Everyone had said how bad the hills would be in Devon and Cornwall but after the Highlands, the Lake District and the Shropshire hills; I'd seen it all, though this is probably the most continuous section of hilly roads. But as ever, with every uphill grind and muscle screaming climb, there is the instant relief of the other side and all's forgotten.

I passed through Redruth, then busy dusty Camborne, then... flat tyre, not now! With over 900 miles cycled this was the first one and with only 15 miles to go. The spare tube I was carrying had earn't it's place in the bag and I was quickly under way again.

Deflated with only 15 miles to go 

Penzance. Even Tesco's here has palm trees.

I watched the Scillonian sail into Penzance harbour, arriving from St Mary's in the Scilley's. When my kids Sam, Charli and Abi had been younger, Julie and I had had the most tranquil of holidays amongst these beautiful white sand islands.

Lichen on sparkly Cornish granite. 

My best climbing memories are on the granite cliffs around here: Terrier's Tooth at Chair Ladder with Julie, Suicide Wall and Little Brown Jug at Bosigran with Andy - what a place this is!

After a short section on the A30 (going direct to Lands End) I stayed true to my roots (and routes) and headed off to St Buryan, reluctantly passed my favourite pub round here- the Logan Rock Inn, with it's great story of drunken sailors pushing the Logan rock off its perch into the sea and then being ordered by the Admiralty to haul it back again.

I passed the best beach - Porthcurno, overlooked by the fabulous open air Minack Theatre and then the end of the land was approaching. My friends Andy and Karen clapped me over the line. It was done.

12 days, 992 miles, 37 Mars Bars.

Andy and Karen had cycled to meet me. They'd previously done a Cape Wrath to Cape Cornwall variation of the End to End on their tandem.

The end of everything: the journey, the day, the land.

What's next?

Wednesday 10th July: Day 11, Arcacia farm campsite to the Golden Inn nr Holsworthy, 80 miles.

I tried to get an earlier start but the best I could do was 11 am. I'm not sure if I'm fit, knackered, or if it's just advancing years making everything ache.

I decided to keep faith with the A38 and was rewarded with a good 20 mile run to Taunton, bought lunch in Sainsbury's and looked for a good place for a picnic. As I took the shot below i was approached by a Police Officer who'd had reports of someone taking photo's of the Nat West Bank. 

Once he was satisfied that a dirty, scraggly-bearded lycra clad cyclist wasn't casing the joint, he told me he also was planning on doing the End to End with some friends but wasn't sure whether to do it supported or not. 

For me, forward planning each day in terms of accomodation would have halved the experience. However your day turns out you are always supported by the great British pub/Inn, motels, hotels, hostels and campsites; whatever fits your budget. And you can find it all on your phone with Google maps etc.

I happened upon a sign showing me the way to a good spot for lunch - seriously, this is not made up!

At the end of the alley was this:

That will do nicely

So then on to Devon and Tiverton.

Tiverton is a smart looking town and patrolled by an immaculate looking policeman who watched me cycle into town one way and then tracked me as I cycled back again looking for a coffee shop. He reminded me of Sargeant Angel in Hot Fuzz.

After Tiverton it was the A3072 to Crediton, then heading west to pick up the A3072 to Holsworthy and eventually the A39.  Overall this is a great cycling road (3072) and I really enjoyed it, but eventually I had done another day's decent mileage, the sun was sinking below the hills and I needed a campsite fast. I hauled myself up a hill and then another sign stopped me in my tracks (maybe I was an Indian scout in a former life).

This was potentially the last nights camping, and a 16th centuary pub with cask ales at the top of the hill with camping in the beer garden? Was it written that a weary 'End to Ender' would be passing this way at this time? This was the perfect stop before my last day in the saddle and Tony, the landlord was the perfect host. The view from the tent was one of the best and the stars shone brightly that night as I contemplated a 100 mile plus day on Thursday. I'd need to get up early.

Tuesday 9th July: Day 10, Hereford to Rooks Ridge, 89 miles

I'm blessed with another sunny morning and it looks set to continue for the rest of the week. 24C today. I'm having extra porridge this morning as after yesterday I want to try to get well beyond Bristol, hopefully near Cheddar. Trouble with this campsite is that it's right next to the A49 to Hereford and all I can hear is the drone of traffic (especially the lorries) so not exactly hurrying to leave.

Successfully found a quiet back route into Hereford and although I wanted to see the town I pressed on and promised myself lunch and a drink in Monmouth.

The A466 forms a straight line from Hereford to the Severn Bridge at Chepstow and is obviously traffic heavy so I took the A465 SW to Abergavenny which was fast and quiet, then the B4347 at Pontrilas which closely follows the English / Welsh border all the way to Monmouth. This turned out to be a great choice: following the valley edge up small hills, sharp down sections - hitting another 40 mph and fast flats, arriving in Monmouth for a deserved slap up lunch. Well, tuna & sweet corn baguette from Greggs to eat by the river and washed down with something suitable from the Gatehouse behind me.

From here I opted to stay on the B4293 to Chepstow immediately cursing my decision as I zig zagged up a hill for 3 miles. Of course the upside of this is always the downside - if you know what I mean, highest gear, head down, watch out for the drains & potholes and go for it! All the way to the Severn Bridge and a huge landmark in more ways than one.

Then on to Bristol where I got lost in the city centre for the umpteenth time. It should have been quite simple. A38 in, A38 out but it seems none of the signs in the centre have any road numbers on, just local names. It took a while to get out even with Google maps.

Lost in Bristol again.

Once back on the A38 the cycling was good and eventually a brilliant down hill saw me hit the highest speed of the trip so far; 44 mph,  and then kept on going as far as I could before it got too late.

I found Acacia campsite through ukcampsites.co.uk just a few miles down the road and was a friendly (when confronted with an oily sweaty cyclist at 9pm) relaxing stop with good facilities.

Monday 8th July: Day 9, Green lane campsite to Cuckoo wood campsite, Hereford - 68 miles

There was a convenient route through the lanes via the pretty village of Wem. I was happy to be off the A49 and 16 miles later i was in Shrewsbury.

This was my kind of town, old buildings, atmospheric alleys and the birth place of Charles Darwin - my last major contribution to my local pub quiz. Darwin conducted his experiments and lived with his family in Downe village, Kent; not far from my home but also where my dad and his wife live (John & Peggy). The whole village is strongly influenced by Darwin's legacy, with his wife and children buried in the churchyard there and their home Down House a popular attraction.

Charles Darwin outside buildings that were Shrewsbury school where he was educated. Now the library.

Whilst I was snapping away I heard a shout "Steve" from across the street. I squinted to re- focus and realised it was Craig who I'd met in Inverness and in John O Groats on the morning of departure. I thought he'd be well ahead of me but although Craig had started on a more direct route, he'd since been exploring more of Scotland travelling round the Ayreshire coast before crossing the border.

We chatted about our experiences over the previous 8 days discussing quirky B&B's, different types of tarmac and how we both felt that since leaving the highlands there had been more downhill than uphill. 

Lands End to John O Groats seems to be the way most people do it, i think because the prevailing wind is generally from the south west it's obviously better to have the wind behind you, but when it's not strong, it doesn't make any difference. I liked the idea of finishing on a beach in Cornwall and then an easier trip back to London.

Craig was off Gloucester way to stay with his parents but hoped to be at Lands End on Thursday like I did.

It was time to get going as it was the afternoon and still only 16 miles under my belt. Next town was Ludlow and all the way there the fine looking hill Caer Caradoc got nearer and nearer.

Ludlow was another attractive medieval town with a castle. I could easily spend a weekend here.

Hereford had been my target and fortunately as the sun had almost disappeared behind the trees, a friendly brown campsite sign came into view. Time to get the pasta on, again!

Sunday 7th July: Day 8, Galgate to south of Whitchurch- 84 miles

I left the New Inn about 9.30 after a fine breakfast and headed on down a not too busy A6 towards Preston, then navigating through the city centre out to Wigan along the B5254/A5083 then picking up the start of the A49 to Warrington. Nothing much to report except the day was about getting south as quickly as possible and back to the countryside. All became a lot greener after Warrington and I stopped at a couple of pubs to see how Andy Murray was getting on, but couldn't really hang about.

The only pic I took today. Great weather!

It was now late and time for the usual 'where am I going to eat and sleep tonight'. The mobile battery was seriously low but got a quick answer from a campsite just 15 mins away off the A41 and £10 a night. Unfortunately, while i was cooking, a group of gypsy teenagers arrived on the other side of the fence and spent ages laughing at how small my tent was. I felt I was a curious exhibit in a human zoo.

Friday 5th July: Day 6 - Crawford to Glenridding: 89 miles

Today was the day I'd be crossing the border into England. Leaving the Crawford Arms I was back on the B7076 and for the next 30 miles it really was downhill all the way. The only problem was the now tedious sight and sounds of the A74. 

After a quick coffee and carrot cake in Lockerbie it was on to Gretna and the border. Unexpectedly and more than welcome, NCN signs took me away from the A74 through quiet lanes and a back route into Gretna. Finally I crossed the border. A good feeling but I wasn't half way yet and I wondered if I was going to make Land's End by next Thursday.

Gretna to Carlisle was easy enough then keeping off the A6 I chose a brilliant parallel quiet country lane out of Carlisle taking me past the race course towards Penrith. 

Relaxed cycling towards Penrith

The 'normal' route appears to be the A6 over Shap fell, but a signpost to Greystoke village reminded me of the Christopher Lambert Tarzan film (not connected) and the proximity of the mountain Blencathra lured me towards the centre of the Lakes. When I was about 18 I climbed Blencathra via the impressively exposed Sharp Edge with my Dad who had no trouble at all considering he wasn't really into hill walking and scrambling. I remember after leaving the summit, speedily descending the 'Tongue' all the way to the Whitehorse Inn at Threlkeld for a well earned drink.

At Greystoke, cyclists were arriving from all directions. Some were obviously club cyclists and i chatted to four guys who had just arrived from Whitehaven on day 1 of the Coast to Coast route. After a quick pint I was now settled on camping at Gill Farm campsite in Glenridding at the foot of Helvellen. I'd camped there before and knew that with continuing good weather it would be an idyllic place to chill the next morning. 

As the evening approached this was the first time I really started to feel tired. It may have been due to not having decent lunches the last couple of days and although the cycling round the edge of Ullswater on a rare cloudless summer's evening kept me going, at mile 89 I wearily pushed my bike into the campsite. This was about half way.

This is a hilly campsite and a chap sitting outside his tent watched me approach looking around anxiously for a flat pitch and offered to move his car. As I set up my stove to get the inevitable pasta under way, David introduced himself and kindly invited me to breakfast in the morning. 

Fit for a king? Tomato soup and bread roll starter followed by tuna, pasta with tomato and chilli sauce, grated cheese with Rocket and Spinach side salad. All washed down with my favourite Newcastle Brown Ale. Fantastic!

The end of a long day. My little tent next to David & Sam's palace 

Saturday 6th July: Day 7, Glenridding to the New Inn at Galgate - 51 miles

UHalf way summary:

6 days, 511 miles, 21 Mars Bars

I slept the longest so far, a good 8 hrs and although the heat of the morning sun forces you out of the tent, it's a lovely feeling - especially when camping in this country to know the sun is out there waiting for you. This was going to be my half day off. As promised, my neighbours Sam & David from Tynemouth cooked sausages and egg rolls and made cup after cup of tea - much appreciated hospitality and good company.

Camping neighbours, Sam and David

So, after sunning the middle bit of the body and taking in the glorious mountain scenery it was time to go. Fully rested, fed, creamed up and wearing sunglasses, it was time for the 1500 ft Kirkstone Pass. No contest!

After being passed by at least a 100 Harley riders I huffed and puffed up what should be the hardest ascent of the trip and it was going to take a few rests to get to the top. I'd lightened the load yesterday evening by drinking the Newcy Brown but I was still lugging a tin of rice pudding. I probably rested about 8 times and what a relief to reach the summit. 

Looking back down the way I'd come with Ullswater in the distance.

From the top of the pass came the reward. The descent all the way to Lake Windermere (below).8

With no traffic behind I was able to make use of the full lane width, leaning left and right round tight bends, down steep bits, up over small rises and generally had an absolute blast over several miles, reaching nearly 40 mph in places. The small diversion into the mountains had been more than worth it. At Bowness-on-Windermere it was lunch and then onto Kendal.

Following a minor road out of Kendal to Natland I soon picked up NCN route 6 signs to Lancaster, linking rarely used lanes that nature was starting to reclaim.

Quiet lanes on the way to Lancaster from Kendal with grass growing through the tarmac.

Eventually you join the A6 but then get an opportunity to follow the Lancashire Canal tow path. I enjoyed this so much I spent too much time on it and again it was getting late and I had nothing arranged for the night.

Views from the canal looking out towards  Morecambe Bay.

Google maps to the rescue and I got a room at the New Inn at Galgate for £31 B&B. Perfect.