Yesterday was a blissful day on the bike. The new Ribble performed to perfection, the ride was challenging, the scenery was stunning, the weather played ball, I loved the National Trust pod where I was staying and I finished the day with a couple of beers and my favourite ‘on tour’ meal:

Yes! Pasta and pesto is back on the menu! Heston Blumenthal eat your heart out. Who needs snail porridge when you can feast upon this glutenous sludge that is guaranteed to keep a hungry cyclist turning those pedals. It was delicious.

Today was good but there were dollops of cycling reality mixed into the fun. When I looked at the weather forecast last night as I tucked into my pesto feast on the veranda of my pod, it was clear that the wettest of the weather was destined to be over the western parts of the country. As I was heading home today – and crucially east – it made sense for me to cycle somewhere en route. So, I drove as far as Sedbergh, parked the car in a car park and set off on a loop that would see me return to Sedbergh after 55 km. I’ve been using Komoot on this trip. I’ve used it once before and it sent me off along a path that was clearly not cyclable, but I thought I would give it another try. I did, and it worked out fine, both yesterday and today. I’d be interested to know if the routes suggested on Komoot are user-generated or AI-generated. The loop I followed today seemed to change slightly later in the day. I digress. This is the route I wanted to follow:

And I did. Initially, however, the weather was challenging. Should I have shifted my route further east? The road from Gawthrop heading south west was undeniably stunning… but on a nice day. Today wasn’t. I fought the rain and the wind for most of the first couple of hours. Mercifully the traffic was very, very light along the remote road. And I had in the back of my mind the fact that when I returned on my ‘loop’ (it’s actually more of an oblong but hey! You are not here for a maths lesson) the wind would be pushing me back to where the car was parked for much of the time.

I passed through Casterton without stopping but then the Casterton Gold Club appeared and it had a café. I had yet to eat so I paused for sustenance. Golf clubs aren’t my thing (far too many middle-aged men trying to proove they are still fit enough – pot? kettle? black?) but a café is a café. When I parked my bike next to a couple of golf buggies, I felt the front tyre of Rita (the Ribble bike, not an overweight member of the club…) and much to my horror, it was deflating fast. Arghhh! I’m a Schwalbe Marathon Plus man who doesn’t have to deal with such trivialities as punctures as they never happen. Rita sports Schwalbe G-One tyres. She had a puncture. Bugger. Annoying, obviously, but extra annoying when you know that although you have a spare inner tube with you, you don’t have a pump.

I asked in the café. The woman who served me had a son who cycled. He had left his bike in the back room… but not his pump. Looking at the map, I noted that Kirkby Lonsdale was close. I pushed Rita down the down, over Devil’s Bridge (jumping into the water not allowed) and into the centre, looking for anyone who might look like a cyclist who might have a pump. I arrived at a bakery where there were three bikes outside. They belonged to a trio of young women who were attempting to bike pack along the coast to coast route. They were somewhat disheartened by their experience so far and were about to abandon their trip. And I turned up asked them if they had a pump to lend me. Just what they needed. However, one of them did and I set about replacing the inner tube. It didn’t go to plan…

Not only did one of my tyre levers snap, the inner tube that I had bought only last week had the wrong valve and wouldn’t fit through the hole in the rim of the wheel. The last time I had to repair a puncture was in 2015, in Spain. That’s how good Schwalbe Marathon Plus tyres are. This was the third ride on a bike sporting Schwalbe G-One tyres and I had a puncture. That’s how shit they are!

With an incompatible replacement inner, I looked at the inner with the puncture and quickly found the hole. Mercifully, disgruntled coast-to-coast cyclist also had a repair kit. Phew… About 30 minutes later (I’m clearly no expert) the tyre was reinflated and I was ready to go. It did play on my mind however for the remainder of the day and I am now seriously considering fitting Marathon Plus tyres to Rita as well. Why wouldn’t I? “They are very heavy” say the sceptics. Hey! I’ve just lost 20kg. (See yesterday’s post.) I don’t really care…

The remainder of the cycle was very much a return to yesterday’s blissful experience. It was a classic day of cycling in the Dales. Here is the proof:

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