Today was our last full day in the saddle and, following the two previous hard days, was intended to be a gentle ride through the Cornish country lanes from Bodmin to Hayle, a distance of about 50 miles. We’ve been incredibly lucky with the weather and today was no exception; the sun was shining when we left the Westberry Hotel in Bodmin and apart from a slight chill in the air and the occasional dark cloud it remained fine all day. The wind was again kind, coming from the north east. Despite my observations regarding the apparent frequency and severity of the climbs, Bryan remained resolute – today we would follow the planned route and no short cuts. The ride didn’t start well – having found the right road through Bodmin (inevitably it was up hill) we got to the roundabout on the edge of town and carefully selected our route. This time it was down a thundering great hill, allowing us to easily reach the days maximum speed of nearly 33 mph with ease. Unfortunately this turned out to be the wrong road, so back we went!  Something about incorrect road numbering I heard Bryan mumble. We then threaded our way through the maze of lanes, up hill and down, to avoid the main A30, eventually stopping for coffee at the delightful Lappa Valley Light Railway at the 30k point. On we pressed to Goonhaven for lunch, omitting the diversion to Perranporth from the itinerary  – pastie on a park bench! The afternoon’s route became more varied, taking in the ‘industrial’ valley of Porthtowan, with its tin mines and the coastal village of Portreath, where afternoon tea and flapjack was taken at the Tideline Cafe. The final big climb of the day, was 1:5 for 300ft, from the harbour at Portreath up on to the cliff tops. The last 20k to Hayle was one of the nicest sections of the whole trip, with quiet lanes, high Cornish ‘hedges’ and an absolute abundance of wild flowers – bluebells, cowslips, red campion, sea pinks, valerian…just magic! But just when you think you’re cruising to a finish, a safe landing – disaster struck. Bry noticed his cycle computer wasn’t working. A quick examination of the thing that clips on the spokes and WHAT – a broken spoke on the drive side of his rear wheel. Doesn’t sound much does it but I have it on good authority that it’s one of the worst things that can happen – difficult to fix on the the road but liable, at any point, to cause the wheel to become distorted or even collapse! We finished tonights ride in a high state of anxiety – will Bry’s wheel hold out for the final 30k to our finishing point at Land’s End? The only way we could deal with the stress was to pay a visit to a favourite Hayle watering hole of mine, The Bucket of Blood, for whale and chips, washed down with a few pints of St Austell ales. With no obvious Plan B for the morning will it all come down to luck! Make sure you read tomorrows blog to find out if we make or not!

Todays route statistics

A celtic cross – somewhere in deepest Cornwall

Coffee at the Lappa Valley Light Railway

Tin mine near Porthtowan

Bry trying to look nonchalant before facing ‘the last big climb’ at Portreath

The ‘home run’, with Hayle in our sights what could possibly go wrong?

This….a broken spoke on the drive side of Bry’s rear wheel. It’s touch and go as to whether he’ll finish!

Off to bed and a sleepless night….

These were the words that greeted me when I casually remarked to Bry about the challenge of todays ride – our last full day in the saddle. How true! Although shorter – only 50 miles, there is still a fair amount of climbing. The route and elevation profile is shown below:

If all goes to plan, and after yesterday’s experience there’s no guarantee, then we should meet up with Jane, aka ‘mission control’, at a B&B somewhere near Hayle, leaving us within spitting distance of Land’s End. We’re still assessing the practicalities of actually getting to the finish in the wake of the Olympic Torch leaving earlier on Saturday morning.  We’ll keep you posted.

Today we had one of those ‘reality check’ moments, a ‘wake up and smell the coffee’ occasion;  a ‘we’re just kicking the tyres on this one’ experience;  brought about within the first half hour of our mammoth day. The morning had started well, the alarm went off as usual at seven and, as usual, I’d been awake for ages waiting for it. We had a leisurely breakfast, psyching ourselves up for the big day ahead.  We’d packed up, paid up and set off. The landlord of the Rising Sun had explained that, by going up the lane behind the pub, we could join the Torrington road a mile further on and cut out a big hill – too good an offer to refuse! We pushed our bikes up the steep hill, got on and rode off feeling rather smug that we’d already reduced the day’s target by a whole mile. And then it happened – within another mile we were faced with a 1:5 hill, which we struggled to climb, but having done so and descended an equal amount on the other side of the hill we were immediately faced with a 1:4, which  completely defeated us! This crazy switch-back of a ride continued for the next few miles putting us into a ‘psychological tail-spin’. A black cloud of doubt and despair was rapidly descending. We took an early coffee stop at  Torrington to rethink our strategy. By this time we’d covered just seven of the seventy mile in an hour and a half. At this rate we’d still be riding at midnight – we urgently needed a ‘plan B’! Our various alternatives ranged from find a B&B in Torrington and sleeping for the rest of the day to catching a bus. Eventually we decided to abandon following the ‘scenic route’ via the NCN 3 and take the main road to Holsworthy where we could decide on the direct route to Bodmin or follow the coast road. The road to Holsworthy became increasingly more manageable and we made it there in good time for lunch. Our spirits, uplifted by the increased speed of the run-in and possibly more beneficially, the homemade pasty, we decided to take the direct route to Launceston and the A30 on to Bodmin. Fortified by lunch we set off to cover the 14 miles and seven hills to Launceston. On the approach we had another uplifting moment when we cross the  river Tamar and entered Cornwall, the last county of our epic journey. We climbed the steep hill on the approach to the town, quickly found the excellent cafe No. 8, Westgate, and ordered up a pot of tea and cakes. The proprietor, a biker himself, gave us some good advice about the various options for our final leg to Bodmin. A modicum of self-belief now restored, we tackled the remaining 22 miles along the A30 into Bodmin. We survived the traffic, potholes and strong cross winds to arrive at the Westberry hotel at 17.40 – a distance of  nearly 100k and a total climb of over 4000ft., a minor triumph, given our starting point earlier in the day. A pint in the superb Hole in the Wall opposite the hotel, a good meal and we’re already talking about the challenge of tomorrows route. Funny thing the mind, much stronger (-and weaker) than the legs! Like Bry says ‘it’s dealing with those daemons’ that really matters. Anyway, with all this going on, not so many interesting photos I’m afraid, but here is a selection:

..and this was even before we started!

The old bridge over the Tamar at Launceston and the entrance to the kingdom of Kernow

Launceston castle

View over  Bodmin Moor, taken on one of our ‘breather’ stops on the final leg of the day

..and the sign which, at the beginning of the day, we doubted we would ever see!

The grim statistics of todays ride (ordeal)!

Sorry for keeping you all waiting. Happy reading. I’m off to bed!

Amazingly todays mammoth stage, both in terms of distance and height gain, takes us to Bodmin – into Kernow and hopefully within striking distance of our goal! Yesterdays stage was tough, particularly since we tacked on an extra 12 k and a couple of hills, and it’s left both of us feeling tired and a bit sore – not a promising prospect for the ride ahead. We’re following our normal routine and we just take it as it comes – one mile at a time. Route for today is given below:

Follow Bry’s tweets for the days events – @bryanwilliams66

A blog of some sort, internet and physical fatigue  permitting, later tonight

We arrived tonight at The Rising Sun,Umberleigh in deepest Devon, ahead of schedule and with a thousand miles under our belts. There is also serviceable WiFi so, fingers crossed, there should be a full blog tonight! Todays route, which was just over 70 miles, started in Wells, took us across the Somerset levels past Glastonbury, along the towpath of the Bridgewater and Taunton canal and, after our lunch stop in Taunton, our  route followed the B3227 across ‘the top’ of Devon, through Brampton and South Molton to our night-time stop. Reveille was at the usual time of 08.00, when Mike our temporary travelling companion, appeared to be in in remarkably fine fettle. A good breakfast was enjoyed by all before loading the bikes, posing for the ‘team’ photo and ‘pushing off’. The route to Taunton took us through Glastonbury and Street, on the busy A39, and over the Somerset levels – which had the distinct advantage of being flat for a change. Mike putting a brave face on his obvious disappointment at not being able to put his new-found hill climbing skills to the test! An impromptu stop at Borrow Mump was greatly enhanced  when ‘magic Mike’ produced some Blackheath farmers market flapjack out of his saddlebag! A small detour to look for a coffee shop led to a chance encounter with the Bridgewater & Taunton canal. Now you know what a temptation that would have been for Bryan and, sure enough, we decide to go ‘off piste’ and follow the NCN3 to Taunton. The towpath took us all the way to our lunch stop at Morrisons, where, after refuelling, we said our ‘goodbyes’ to Mike and resumed our route on the B3227. As flat as the morning section had been, so the afternoon was characterised by hills, but not like any we’d encountered thus far. No, these were the  ‘Mother….Theresa’ of hills – long-lived, full of suffering and silent anguish! One in particular, between Wivelscombe and Brampton, seemed utterly endless. On the subsequent down hill, we crossed the county boundary into Devon, which brought on an inexplicable emotional moment  for me – not sure if it was anxiety or anticipation! Anyway, nothing that a good cuppa couldn’t put right and the Toucan Cafe in Brampton was definitely up to the mark with a slab of excellent apricot and almond flapjack thrown in. We pressed on to our original finishing point of South Molton (rather reminiscent of the ‘hill towns’ of County Down) and then, with over 100k under our belts already, we carried on. Are they mad?, I hear you cry …yes, undoubtably but mad with method. The additional miles this evening have put us ahead of schedule and give us a fighting chance of finishing tomorrows mammoth stage in more or less one piece. Cunning hey!

Stats from todays ride are presented below – look on in awe!

Looking through the gate house to Wells cathedral at our hotel, The White Hart

The ‘team’ ready for the off. Notice Mike is already wearing ‘green’ in recognition of his climbing efforts the day before

Burrow Mump

Mike and Bryan trying to avoid going off the edge on the towpath of the Bridgewater & Taunton canal

Bry approaching the summit of ‘Mother Theresa’

Views from the B3227, looking north across Exmoor

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Todays route took us from just outside Newport to Chepstow, across the Severn bridge, into Bristol and down to Wells, a distance of about 58 miles with some pretty big hills involved. We met up with Bry’s friends David & Rosemary for lunch and were joined by Mike who had kindly come all the way from London to ride a few miles with us. The day started well with a hearty breakfast, at the New Inn, and a reasonably prompt departure. Unusually for us the first leg into Chepstow was nearly all downhill so we made good progress on this 14 mile section, including comfortably completing the final hill up to the roundabout on the outskirts of the town. It was here that we were faced with our first navigational dilemma of the day – should we go right, following the GPS and the road signs saying Bristol or should we follow our instincts and go straight ahead into the town – you won’t be surprised to know that we chose the latter! We proceeded to descend down the other side of the steep hill we’d just climbed, into Chepstow, around the one-way system and taking in many of the lesser known sites along the way. Having tracked down a local and asked their advice as to the best way to get to the bridge, we were somewhat disheartened to learn that we had to go back up the big hill to the roundabout and follow the signs for Bristol! We picked up the excellent cycle path which took us down to and then over the Severn bridge. Having arrived on English soil we set about trying to find the cycle path which would take us to Bristol, for our imminent lunch-time rendezvous. Clearly looking lost, we were approached by a father a son on mountain bikes, who turned out to be local ‘sustrans cycle path’ rangers. They accompanied us through the the labyrinth of paths in that area and deposited us at the foot of the lane which would take us directly to the suburb of Bristol we required to be in for lunch. Thanks guys, your help was very much appreciated and you are both excellent ambassadors for your local area. We reasonably quickly found David & Rosemary at the White Lion, but Mike was missing – later to be found up the road at the White Hart. Not sure which GPS system was to blame for that one! A good lunch was had whilst dodging the hail stones and then the three of us departed on our afternoon adventure. Across the Downs, with their magnificent Georgian merchants houses, to the suspension bridge high above the Avon gorge, built by Isambard Kingdom Brunel – a masterpiece of civil engineering. Then down through Ashton park and more torrential hail storms before our afternoon tea stop at the Moondance cafe, in Chew Magna. Better Bakewell tart would be hard to imagine! We departed the cafe in bright evening sunshine on the remaining 14 mile section to the cathedral city of Wells. Our route taking us passed Chew Reservoir and up over the Mendip Hills. Finishing the day on such a steep and sustained climb certainly created an appetite and a thirst, both handsomely sated by the Ancient Gatehouse restaurant, with it’s magnificent views across the close to the cathedral itself. A great end to a memorable day!

Some of the lesser known aspects of Chepstow as seen on our ‘diversion’!

Back to Blighty.

One of our Sustrans Ranger chaperones

Lunchtime rendezvous with David and Rosemary

Isambard’s bridge over the Avon ( in the lovely city of Bristol – OK Debs?)

A nice house in Ashton Park, just before the hail storm

Two GPS are better than one….or are they?

On route, with Mike, for Wells

and the the Baby-eating Bishop of Bath & Well’s little pad!

Stats for the ride:

A few miles down the road from here is Chepstow and the English border. It’s also a location for people doing one of the more traditional End2End routes, with which we will be reunited shortly, after our ten day scenic diversion! Today we cross the Severn and the Avon, meet up with a friend of Bryan’s for coffee, visit a few old familiar family haunts and gain the pleasure of Mike’s company as he shares a few miles with us, on the final stage of our odyssey. Todays route is given below:

Looks decidedly arduous to me!

Following on from yesterdays ‘A Comedy of Errors’, todays offering focuses on Cardiff, which was just over half way on our journey of 96k – but more of that in a moment. The day started rather leisurely because it was raining when we got up. By the time we’d messed about, had breakfast and packed, it was about 10.00 before we set off. Not sure what is it about our over-night stops but they all seem to require a massive uphill effort immediately on departure – today was no exception! Once we were clear of the A48  and on the minor road to Llantwit Major, things got considerably easier, with the skies lightening and the modest breeze on our backs, we soon made it to our coffee stop. Amazingly, when we were looking to ask someone which road to take out of the town, we bumped into an E2E veteran! He helpfully put us on the right road and advised us on the best way to circumnavigate Cardiff. Entering Barry we suffered only our second puncture of the trip – this time it was in the rear tyre and nowhere near a cafe – bad call Bry! We were quickly back on the road, only to be brought to another abrupt holt by Bry’s chain coming off – luckily this time we were within spitting distance of a McDonalds, which doubled as a wash-room and lunch stop. The afternoon began with a pleasant meander through the lovely coastal town of Penarth (Yvonne, our corporate sponsor, if you are reading this, I’m not just saying this because you live there…!) which is also the beginning of the Cardiff Bay Barrage, once you find it! What a great way to see the city – almost on a par with entering Venice from the outer islands. No, hang on, I think I might have got a bit carried away there – but anyway it was very nice! Now this is where the ‘Tale of Two Cities’ comes in, because as pleasant as the entry into the city was, the exit was utterly horrible! Badly signed, appalling road surfaces, speeding traffic, no cycle paths and endless! Eventually, after miles of this stuff ,we did run out of industrial estates and landfill sites and found a B road that took us through miles of quiet cow pastures and into Newport where we were once again reunited with the infamous NCN ‘4’. A handy cash machine at a 24 hour Tesco on the edge of town and a couple of miles along the road and we arrived at tonights stop, the New Inn at Langstone, great value but lousy internet! So if you don’t get any pics with tonights blog you can amuse yourselves by looking at yesterdays, which I’ve now managed to load. Happy viewing.

Details of the route were as follows:

‘..the rain has stopped, I guess we’d better get off’

Only the second puncture of the whole trip, and not a cafe in sight, but yes, Bryan did get to use his ‘magic tool’ again!

Proof for Yvonne that we did visit her beloved town..

The beginning of the Cardiff Bay Barrage, looking towards the capital.

The view the other way, across the Severn to the coast of Devon (we’ll be there soon enough!)

The Norwegian church and some funny statue

Now you don’t get to see many of these…the transporter bridge at Newport. They never really caught on did they!

The birding today was interesting but unexciting – no new species added to the existing 110 for the trip.

The day started badly when our pre-arranged 8 o’clock breakfast was only an ingredient in the cupboard for mein host! Anyway, within half an hour we were ‘cooking on gas’ – well we weren’t, but she was! In the event, a super breakfast was produced and our very kind hostess, on hearing of our charitable endeavours, made a cash donation to the cause. So we left the Drovers Arms in high spirits – only to have them dampened almost immediately by the usual problem of which road out of town to take? We toured Carmarthen examining in detail each road sign before deciding on our exit strategy which, in the event  like on so many previous occasions, turned out to be up a bloody great hill! We valiantly  struggled to the the top of the hill, immediately stripped off a couple of layers, and carried on our way. Several miles up the road, having already taken a wrong turning Bry discovered he’d lost his mitt ( one mitt mind – he was wearing the other one!) and his watch. He sets off to retrace his steps – whilst I sensibly wait for him. Twenty minutes later he reappears, triumphant, having found his mitt in the hedge and his watch in the road. We then descend down to the coast to the village of Ferryside and follow the National Cycle Network route 4 to Kidwelly. By this time  it was clear that our planned rendezvous for lunch with a friend and former colleague in Swansea was beginning to look decidedly dodgy. We ploughed on, still following the ‘4’, across a disused airfield, around the estuary,  through miles of pine woods before emerging onto the coastal path. It was after noon by this stage and a 0ne o’clock lunch in Sainsbury’s, 13 miles away, was hastily put back by an hour. We thrashed on, mile after mile, with the Gower peninsular and Rhossili Down, a familiar landscape from former family holidays, in the background. Following the ‘4’ was proving to be difficult and at one particularly tricky junction I completely mis-judged the route, came to a grinding halt, couldn’t get my feet out of the clips, wobbled and then went crashing to the ground – to the obvious amazement of a nearby party of cyclists from Swansea. Bruised and grazed but nothing broken we continued on our way. A long leafy run in to Swansea bay and then along the water front to our two o’clock lunch appointment. By this time we’d clocked up over 45 miles  and our end was no where near in sight yet. A much deserved lunch and catch-up chat and we were on our way again. The ‘4’ now follows a route that was difficult to follow and even more difficult to describe. It turned out to be a tour of most of the back-alleys and railway sidings of the greater Port Talbot area. The path continued relentless on in the general direction of Porthcawl, with the notable cultural highlight being the abbey at Margam. Six miles from our destination roadside signs kept appearing saying ‘Road ahead closed’ – we both concluded that this couldn’t possibly be the case and we carried on! When we got to the spot and found the road was indeed closed we briefly considered the possibility of cycling back up hill for two miles before investigating alternative means through the fenced off obstacle! As the actions which now followed were, we were later informed by the security guard, captured on cctv I won’t go into too much detail – suffice it to say that we were invited to leave the site via a couple of locked gates, a herd of cows and several farmers fields!  The last few miles seemed to fly by before we reached the sanctuary of our nights lodgings! What in theory should have been a relatively easy and straightforward day turned out to be anything but!

The grim statistics of todays ride are presented below:

Birding highlight from today, and yes the were a few, included Reed Warbler Lesser Whitethroat, Jay and Little Egret.

…AND NOW WITH PHOTOS!

Lost already…and we’re not even out of Carmarthen!

View from the National Cycle Network route 4, looking down hill towards Carmarthen. It was on this verge that Bryan disgarded his mitt and watch.

Fabulous view up the estuary towards Ferryside

Kidwelly castle from the church yard – brought back happy memories of past family holidays, as did views of Rhossili Down where Joseph ran away, and the ‘pitch & putt’ on Swansea sea front where Daniel almost scored a hole in one!

We encounter all manner of obstacles on the ‘4’!

…and another one – what do they think we are, trick cyclists?

View along Port Talbot beach

One of the less scenic bits of the ‘4’!

Nw this was a nice surprise, Margam Abbey, nestling on the wooded hillside above the former steel works.

And finally…five miles before the finish, a slight diversion following an alleged Health & Safety incident!

Caught myself thinking, whilst starring in the shaving mirror, that working was easier than this – but don’t worry, I quickly came to my senses! Woke this morning to another sunny day and a promising forecast. Todays 100k ride is almost entirely on cycle paths, to avoid main roads and some of the less scenic aspects of this otherwise delightful country. A day of visiting old family holiday haunts and seeing old friends. The route is given below: