Day One

How exciting. After a good nights sleep, we awoke anticipating a long but beautiful day cycling through Cornwall's hills, with good views of the ocean to our right for the first few hours.

Then we noticed that is was raining. That didn't exactly make for a great start, but it had stopped just as we had clipped in to our pedals and we even had a bit of blue sky as we set off. A few miles to Lands End, and then about 85 miles to end the first leg of the trip.

Lands end is a bit of a touristy place, feeling a bit like a small amusement park, but at least it was well presented and clean. Properly done. The views along the cost and out into the ocean beyond were nice, and we got some other people also setting off for John O'Groats to capture the moment before we left, eager to get moving.


It was actually a nice start. A bit breezy but mostly behind us, the sun was out most of the time, and decent roads with beautiful scenery on either side of us, it only took a few minutes to feel like we were right in the middle of it, not being able to fully appreciate the mileage ahead of us.


Cycling through the UK is great because for most of the country, especially the bottom half, you don't have to go terribly far to reach the nearest town. This makes water and food stops no problem at all, and if something terrible happens you don't have to go far for assistance. The little towns and villages themselves just add to the scenic rolling countryside, and we passed many along the way.

It didn't take long for the clouds to roll in off the Atlantic and bring the rain. On went the jackets for the first of many times, and on we went, up and down hill after hill after hill. Sun, rain, ascents and descents pretty summed up the day. This was supposed to be one of our toughest days in terms of elevation, and it didn't disappoint.

We dove into Tesco (probably the UK's biggest supermarket) a couple of hours into the ride to grab lunch to be eaten later, which ended up being our routine for the entire trip, and worked out quite well. The day pretty much unfolded like the morning had, with scattered showers and constant hills, with a really punishing one thrown in every few miles for good measure.


I have a hard time being beaten on a bike. Whenever someone passes me, be it someone I'm riding with or a total stranger, I automatically speed up. It's an automatic reaction. I'm like a greyhound when they release the rabbit. Myra hates this. Hills are the same for me. I take great pleasure in attacking hills and beating them, and feel almost ashamed at the thought of having to walk the bike up. I told myself that I would do the whole trip in my saddle, pedaling the whole way.

The combination of pulling an extra 40lbs and hills that get well beyond 10% at points and last for miles in some cases, meant that I very quickly came to terms with the idea of walking the bike. It didn't happen all that often, but there was no way around it. Without the trailer I'd like to think that I would have been fine...

The trailer made itself known on more than the climbs though. I discovered, while traveling at 30mph down a hill, that trailers of this nature have a habit of picking up a bit of a speed wobble if you're not careful. It was at it's heaviest today, having not eaten into any of our supplies yet, and I don't think the weight was distributed perfectly evenly. It all helped to enhance a small wobble I had from either a gust of wind or a small diversion around something in the road, turning it into a trailer that was flailing wildly side to side, taking my bike with it, and just getting worse and worse. I'm not sure how I managed it, but I eased on the brakes and the bike stayed upright, and I got to keep the first few layers of skin on most of my body. That certainly got the old heart pounding, and Myra's (who was behind me, taking this all in) was in her throat.


We ended up taking too much time when we stopped for a quick rest, water, food, or pictures, so the day very quickly progressed from afternoon to evening, and we still had a good few miles to cover before we were done. Very much looking forward to a nice warm shower, warm food and cozy bed to fall into, and being well past dinner time, we were definitely ready to be done for the day. 6pm turned to 7pm, 7pm turned to 8pm, and with our estimated 6000ft of climbing already past us with no sign of it stopping, we started to get a bit... anxious, to say the least. I can't remember if it was a decision or if we made a wrong turn, but we ended up seeing our 85 miles appear on the computer with a little less than 10 to go, and it was getting quite dark with all the stormy clouds hovering above us...

We reached our first really low point on the first full day of riding. The rain had stared to fall and we were only a few miles from finishing, but were in the middle of nowhere and didn't feel totally confident that the GPS was taking us on the right route, said route being down a seldom used track that kept descending at a fairly alarming rate. The brakes were wet, out hands were cramping from having to squeeze them so much, and we knew that at some point we'd have to go back up.

That moment arrived sapping our will to live, and then the heavens opened.

We were maybe one or two miles from our B&B, and we were soaked to the bone and completely spent, walking our bikes up a stupidly steep and narrow track. We eventually found the place, arriving at a very dark and miserable 9:30pm, got out of our dirty, wet clothes, had a quick shower, and found the only place in Callington open at that hour for dinner, having a not so bad but extremely far from ideal Indian curry for dinner, at 10pm.

We staggered back, just glad to be clean and dry, hung out wet clothes to dry in the bathroom, and collapsed into bed, in what was an extremely nice B&B.

Day two, finished.