Riding to Geneva

I've started to see cycling as a way to get to see places. I've read a few accounts now of people who have ridden their bikes around the world and the stories are full of the excitement of the journeys.

I wanted to get some long rides in as part of my training for an upcoming race and I decided that instead of the usual rides out to the hills and back, or out to Windsor and back, it is much more fun to go from one place to another and travel some distance.

Over the last few months I've been trying out carrying my new tent, I did a one night stay in Wittering then another one night trip to Brighton. All went well so I planned a bigger trip.

Brighton

New tent at East Wittering

Geneva is about 700km away from Dieppe and looked like a good target to achieve in a week, without stressing too much over daily mileage. I also wanted to plan as little as possible and push myself a little into the unknown of where I'd end up each night.

My main problem was how to get my bike home safely in the plane from Geneva... A sturdy bike box is really the only option for a carbon fibre road bike.
After looking into buying one in Geneva (expensive) or buying one online and having it delivered to a friend's address over there, it all seemed pretty complicated.

I found a long term solution to travelling with a bike... A few clicks and a stronger little bike for touring arrived on my doorstep a couple of days later. Say hello to Gertrude, my new GT Grade!

Here's Gertrude loaded with luggage and ready to go.



She's a tough little aluminium framed cyclocross bike with a basic gear setup that hopefully I'll be able to get spares for all over the world.
I can put Gertrude into a cardboard box for the flight, sourced locally. Sorted.

Dieppe ferry booked and return flight booked and we were all set!

I planned my route, avoiding Paris centre, but I wasn't too worried about following it exactly. I took a compass with me and intended to head South East, referring to the map route for rough direction.

Day 0 Saturday.
So I finished work and grabbed the bike. Jumped on the train to Clapham and should have had about an hour to spare.
Except my train didn't stop at Clapham because the crew had turned up late... Strikes and more
cancellations meant a bit of stress getting to the port at Newhaven, but finally I arrived with 5 minutes before the cut off time!

It turned out to be a blessing, because the guard on the train had been on part of my route several times and told me the way to the start of the Avenue Verte, an off road cycle route all the way to Paris.
I'd been this way before, en route to Paris and back, but a few years ago.

Got absolutely soaked in a downpour at Newhaven in the ferry queue! I also slipped off my pedals and cut my ankle. I didn't dare look how badly until the ferry was under way, but I could feel the blood running down onto my foot! Turned out it wasn't life threatening :)

After a little bit of sleep it was time to get off at Dieppe. Still raining and pitch black. Off we went, Gertrude and I.

Day 1 Sunday.

My 4.30am start wasn't particularly glamorous but I found the way onto my route and I had the first 20 miles to myself, not one other person on the Avenue Verte!
Dawn came about 6 but it was still another couple of hours until the coffee shops would open. I stopped and had the breakfast I'd brought in a little cycle picnic place.



I'd made some onigiri, Japanese parcels of rice covered in seaweed. I filled mine with bacon and cheese.

          

My first coffee was 4 euros! But I finally felt like I was on holiday.



I kept pedalling, seeing familiar places from my previous Paris trip.
The countryside opened up to rolling fields.



Because I'd started so early my whole food routine was out of sync with the French system. I was looking for somewhere for dinner but my watch said it was only lunchtime! All the restaurants were closed by the time I was really hungry, but in the end I found a really good Moroccan place.

After my mid afternoon dinner and half bottle of wine I looked ahead on the map and planned a stopping point. Triel sur Seine looked good and there were two campsites on Google maps, on the bank of the Seine.



First day went well and I'd already covered 168km, at a very easy pace, with lots of stops.

Day 2 Monday.

Somehow I managed to sleep 13 hours! Maybe made up for only 1 hour of broken sleep on the ferry!
I packed up and set off, soon stopping for breakfast.

This would be the last bit of the familiar route, now I headed away from Paris and past the front of the Palace of Versailles.

Versailles is a small city with cyclists sharing paths with pedestrians so progress was slow and I had to stop a frustrating number of times to find my way out of the city!

Eventually I got out and back into the farm landscape.

I'd realised that there would be limited opportunities to charge my phone, so it was only switched on for really worthwhile photos...

The other thing that was in short supply was places to buy food. I saw a busy boulangerie and stocked up on baguette. No room on bike to carry it but luckily my cycle kit manufacturers had thought of that.

As the sun started to go down I started to think about a campsite for the night. I asked a couple of locals but nothing seemed nearby. Google found one 8km away so I followed Google's cycle route... Through a dark forest track then a farmer's field.... Just as well I had a cyclocross bike! Gertrude was not impressed and got shaken up but everything stayed on the bike.

I knew I'd gone round in a big circle when I passed a field of mint for the second time... It was really refreshing on a hot evening! Daytime temperatures were 30 degrees.

I found the campsite as darkness closed in. No one in the office so I pitched up and sorted it out with the man in the morning.

Really friendly bloke and a lovely clean campsite in Mondeville. If I remember the name I'll add it here later!

I learnt my lesson here though, I'd left it too late to find a campsite on this day and had to double back to get one before darkness.

Didn't get a huge mileage in today, but 113km closer to Geneva.

Day 3 Tuesday.

I'd really started to enjoy my trip now. I was well into France and the scenery was spectacular.

Clear blue skies and 30 to 35 degree warmth. Very glad I was in no rush and I was stopping in every place that looked interesting.

Lunch here.

More smooth roads and sunshine. Car drivers in France pass you slowly and give you about 3 metres of space when they pass. Completely stress free.

I looked ahead on my map and thought I might be in Chablis at around dinner time. Sounded like a nice place to pitch up for the night as well.

Vineyards everywhere.

Found a lovely campsite next to a stream. The lady owner spoke very good English and told me that restaurants stop serving at around 8pm.

A bit of a rush to get the tent up and shower and I just made it to get my steak and chips with lots of wine.

Camping here is so cheap. This one was 7 euros.

Had a chat to another cycle touring guy here, he'd come from Holland with his friend but his friend had been called home and he was continuing alone.

154km today.

Day 4 Wednesday.

The days were really warming up and my routine had developed into stopping at every opportunity to refill my water bottles. A lot of villages looked deserted and windows shuttered, no shops at all.

I found a beautiful little town for breakfast. It was market day here.

There was a small group of Americans on a sight seeing trip, but we were in the middle of know where!

Just as I was leaving, my friend from the campsite arrived on his bike. He was headed away from my route from here but it was nice to see a friendly face!

Although I'd rehydrated and topped up my water, it was a long stretch to the next village.

Every sign gave hope that in a few kilometres the next village would have a shop or bar for water, but one after another they turned out to be ghost towns, nothing open and not a soul in sight.

One village I saw a farmer in his barn so I stopped and asked him if there was a shop or bar in the village. 'Non' came the sharp reply and he turned and walked away. Fair enough, there's always one.

I went on and saw some builders working. I asked a guy and he said there was a shop in a village 10km further down the road, but it was in the wrong direction for me. I thanked him and was about to go when he asked if I needed a drink. I gave him my 2 empty water bottles and he smiled and filled them up, reaffirming my belief in humanity.

I did have my water filter with my, so could have drunk out of a stream or puddle, but that was best left for an emergency.

A bit further on I arrived, sun baked and sticky, in an ancient city with cobbled streets.

A restaurant was the first thing I saw and after a beer I was served the best salad I've ever had!

Back on the road and it looks like the Tour came this way.

I picked up an extra bottle of water and put it in my rear (baguette) pocket.

I'd got quite used to the solitude of the road and was quite happily rolling along, when all of a sudden a girl overtook me on her bike, also loaded with luggage.

We both said bonjour, and she rode away ahead. I was really tempted to slightly speed up, to have a conversation or some company, but I was here on the trip to do some easy paced training, so I carried on at my slower pace.

A couple of miles up she was stopped. I asked if she was ok and she was working out her route. She asked where I was headed and we were going in the same direction but she was taking a route alongside the river. She said I could go that way too but I decided to stick to my route.

We said bye and both headed off.

Ten minutes later I heard a shouting behind me and I stopped. She was back, she said she couldn't risk a puncture and thought it was better to ride with me.

She was an American living in Paris and her name was Natalie. She told me several times that she had a partner who would be joining her soon. She said she had to be careful travelling alone. 

It turned out that Natalie had decided to go on a solo 6 day cycling trip just the previous day, and this was her first day. She was pretty flustered but it was nice to have someone to chat to, we rode together for 20 miles or so. 

She was buying a house for 35,000 Euros that had no roof, but for now she lived in Paris.

At the turnoff for my campsite we stopped and said goodbye. I hope she finished her trip, I looked up where she was going that day and she still had another 20 miles to go. She only had a sip of water left but wouldn't accept any from me.

My campsite was lovely! The lady in reception was really friendly and talked to me for ages, laughing and chatting. Unfortunately my French isn't very good, but it sounded like a good conversation she was having!

What I did catch was that they had a Zumba class at 8pm. Tempting.

They had a little restaurant on site here which made it really easy for me. Unfortunately my burger came out at the same time as Zumba started. Then after that I ordered another burger and more beer.

Very hot day, 104km covered.

Day 5 Thursday.

There's a road out near Windsor, Berkshire called Drift Road. All the cyclists around here know it because it's long, straight and unforgivingly relentless in it's duration. No reason to stop pedalling at  any point along it's length... Must be 2 or 3 miles of dead straight road.

Well after an initial 20 miles into a town called Beaune, I hit a road just like Drift Road. 

Then a slight bend and... Another Drift Road duplicate ahead.

Nearly the whole day transpired to be one endless straight road after another! 35 degrees with sunshine on hot tarmac and I was praying for some bends, hills, anything other than more straight exposed road!!

I got to a tiny village and stopped for some refreshment. By now I'd skipped the formality of eating before drinking and went straight for the bar and ordered a beer.

Opposite was a boulangerie which, as luck would have it, was open. By luck I'd arrived at the one single hour the shop was open each day.

I went back in the bar and asked the bar lady if I could eat a baguette from the boulangerie with my beer.

'No! You cannot have a picnic here!' was my translation of her swift reply.

Initially taken by surprise and made to feel silly, I remembered that the French use the term picnic for any dining outside of a restaurant and she wasn't insulting me!

She went on to say that she could sell me a baguette from the bar though, and it all made sense.

I ordered a cheese and ham baguette, paid, and she walked over to the boulangerie and brought me one back. 

I was too hungry to laugh at the irony.

Arrived finally in Lons le Saunier after covering 124km.

Day 6 Friday.

I knew that today would be a day of cycling up through the Jura Mountains. What took me by surprise a little was that it was 80km of cycling up... and up, the mountains!

Nearly at the top I passed through the Swiss border. No one there so cycled straight through and up to the top through Swiss chalets and fields with cows with bells. Beautiful.

The descent which followed, around hairpin switchbacks on smooth tarmac, through pine forests, was worth every bit of the day cycling uphill.

I pushed my luck as much as I dared on my luggage laden Gertrude round the wiggly road down. It was a buzz!!

Lake Geneva came into view and I stopped for a quick photo.

Before long the road flattened out a bit and I rolled down to the edge of the lake, to stop for a celebratory beer and an expensive bottle of Swiss water!

I waded into the lake here in my cycing shorts and had a little swim.

Carried on for a few miles and found a campsite next to pub-restaurant place on the lake.

I hadn't really thought about what Switzerland would be like, but it turns out that they don't like taking Euros, you need a different type of travel adaptor, and the green signs are for motorways... Don't ask how I found out the last one :)

I got my phone charged in a restaurant and again by a couple at the campsite. I was here for a couple of nights so I met a few people who chatted about cycling.

Sunrise from my campsite was stunning.

So I'd got to Geneva with 2 days to spare. I went into town and looked round the designer shops, admired the flashy cars, ate and drank lots and ventured onto their man made island in the middle of the lake.

My friend was climbing Mont Blanc, which is in the centre of this picture. Unfortunately it was unseasonably hot, meaning rockfall which made it too risky to summit.

There was a climbing wall in the water, which was more slippery than I'd expected, but I did make it to the top. Not quite Mont Blanc, but satisfying all the same!

The last piece of the puzzle for my trip was getting my bike home. I rode up to the airport early and investigated cardboard boxes.

20 Swiss Francs seemed steep so I went to the arrivals area and my luck was in, a guy had just unpacked his 2 bikes and dumped his boxes, so I had a choice of 2 for free.

All went swimmingly until I got back to Gatwick and missed the last train home. No problem, I'll cycle the 35 miles.

Only at some point in Geneva I'd half broken my chain and Gertrude needed nursing home if we were going to make it.

I reassembled the bike on the departure ramp then stripped naked and put on my cycling clothes, half shielded from view by my cardboard box.

No one seemed to notice my public indecency until a security guard came over and asked if everything was ok, then took my box away.

Gertrude and I rode away at almost midnight into a foggy night. 

My phone was flat so I navigated by street signs. If the chain had snapped I would have been in the middle of nowhere facing a long walk!

Luckily I'd taken good lights, the roads were mostly unlit for the first 20 miles.

I'm very glad to say that the chain held together and we made it home at around 1.30am, giving just enough time for some sleep before getting up at 6.30 for work.

All in all a very successful adventure. I really enjoyed every day, so much to see and experience. 

I expected to feel a bit lonely and isolated at times, but this didn't happen until I was in Geneva. 2 days was more than I needed here.

I'm hoping to pick up where I left off next time, fly out to Geneva and head East toward Vienna or down through Italy. 

I feel like this trip has given me the experience and confidence I needed to open up possibilities all over the world!

Russell :)

John O'Groats to Land's End 10 day cycle

The last 18 months this adventure has been simmering away in the background, a huge amount of cycling trips, research, testing and equipment purchases have been little steps towards this, the biggest cycling challenge for all UK riders. The epic journey from the most north easterly point of the United Kingdom, John O'Groats (JOG) to the most south westerly point, Land's End LE). This trip is known as JOGLE, the opposite is LEJOG. If that isn't enough of a challenge there's always LEJOGLE as well!

The route we took was 929 miles, apparently it's possible to do it in 874 miles but a lot of the roads are treacherous for cyclists. There are many stories of fatal accidents during attempts on this long pilgrimage. Besides, the quieter roads are more scenic and less stressful.

Saturday after work I drove with Heather to Manchester, where we broke the journey before continuing on Sunday all the way up to Wick, just south of JOG where we would spend our last night of anticipation.

We picked up Heather's dad Robin in Inverness, he would be our driver for our attempt on the JOGLE, ferrying our clothes and bike spares between our pre booked accommodation and providing much needed warm tea throughout the trip!

Full of excitement we went up to JOG the evening before our departure and got our official End to End Club forms stamped and to get our bearings. The night was warm and calm and the feeling in the air was palpable.

And then it started raining! A little at first but by the morning it was hammering down. We left our guest house in Wick in the car and arrived at a very wet JOG. I took the bikes to assemble them in a bus stop shelter and we didn't hang around too long before we made our brave depart towards the south.

The gloomy weather forecast turned out to be slightly inaccurate and the wind direction was in our favour! We were blown in a chaotic fashion for most of our first section along the northern coast of Britain, from East to West.

First stop was at Dunnet's Head, which, for the sticklers to the rules, is actually the most Northern point of the UK but doesn't have the reputation JOG has.

We carried on to Bettyhill before turning south towards our first night's accommodation.

The wind was now directly in our face, 20mph made for tough going in the bleak landscape of Scotland, but we were on our first day of this challenge and nothing could knock our spirits.

The sun came out to give us some encouragement and off came the rain jackets.

What a difference the sun makes! Smiles all round :)

Day 1 was completed, 89 miles and we arrrived happily at The Crask Inn to a warm welcome. The Inn was the only place for many miles and we had a great dinner with the other guests. 

With dinner we asked for a jug of water, which arrived at the table several shades browner than I'm used to... I didn't touch it but I noticed Rob, our driver, had a glass. I made a mental note to question him in the morning as to the state of his stomach.

Come the next day, over breakfast, I realised we had no option but brown water for the water bottles on our bikes. Reassuringly Rob had no unpleasant side effects from the peat stained liquid and as a bonus we barely even needed tea bags to make a good strong brew!

Breakfast started with porridge oats, steeped in water overnight and served in a gelatinous state requiring remixing at the table, with the chef's recommended addition of milk and sugar. It was delicious.

Day two's cycling started as it was going to continue all day, straight into a 20mph headwind. Hard work cycling but we got our heads down and pushed through it. 

We passed a big group of cyclists going the other way, zooming along with their big tailwind.

We'd seen quite a few End to Enders going the other way, nearing the end of their journeys to JOG. 

A couple of young men stopped at the Crask Inn for a quick beer, and gave us some of their experiences of the roads coming up for us.

The owner of the Crask Inn said that 80% of the End to Enders he saw we doing the route South to North, but as he said, some of them wouldn't make it as far North as the Crask Inn. 

The last section of this day's riding was alongside Loch Ness. We didn't see the monster but we did stop and got some postcards. It was beautiful.

Around 10 miles from the end of this day's riding Heather had a bike crash. 

The edge of the road surface simply broke away in many places and in a moment of lost concentration Heather hit a series of potholes off the edge of the tarmac and came down heavily on the road.

I heard that nasty noise of scraping metal on road surface and shot a look behind to see Heather and bicycle at an unnatural 45 degree angle to the road. Scrape, scrape, thud, scream. 

I slammed on my brakes and threw my bike off the side of the road and sprinted the 20 metres or so to the limp carcass of Heather that was screwed up in the road. 

A million thoughts rushed through my mind but the most urgent was to try to get her out of the road if possible, before she was hit by a car. We were on a fast single track road.

Heather was able to move so we got her onto the verge laying down and I picked up her bike and the scattered lights and items that had been strewn in the impact.

A car quickly stopped in the middle of the road and a kind lady rushed over to see how she could help. We did a quick assessment and decided there was nothing broken on Heather, so we thanked her and reluctantly she went on her way.

Heather kept asking me to check her bike, but I ignored her for a while because I had already seen the rear derailleur had bent through the spokes of the back wheel, I hadn't even looked to see what else was damaged.

After a few minutes she was back on her feet. She said she had taken the impact and assured me she hadn't hit her head.

I straightened out the derailleur luckily, and the handlebars, then noticed there was a puncture too. Quick change of inner tube and we set off again, rather judiciously.

Things seemed ok and fortunately we soon arrived at the guest house at Fort Augustus.

We had some spares for the bike so I changed the bent bits and got them ready for the next day's departure.

92 miles covered on day 2 and we were lucky to be able to keep going.

Day 3

Today started cautiously, but luckily the impact from the accident didn't slow our progress too much. 

What did slow us up was the 20 mile section ahead off the roads and onto a wooded path alongside lochs and canals. 

We'd done some research and the road option here was perilous for cyclists, the surface of the forest paths was the unknown. I had skinny 700x23 tyres on my bike and Heather had some 25 wide Gatorskins. They weren't really appropriate for the rough surfaces we had to travel on. 

Some of it was just compacted dirt with protruding stones, but in other places there were long sections of freshly laid one inch diameter rough jagged stones. 

We made it through without puncturing and nothing got shaken off our bikes! It was slow progress though and today was to be our highest mileage day over some hilly terrain.

We were pretty happy to be through the off road section and back onto tarmac.

The rain started next and as we headed toward Glencoe it really began to hammer down.

Glencoe is one of the most dramatic, spectacular and eerie places with the road cutting through mountains on each side. We stopped at the visitor centre to warm up and dry out.

This is Glencoe on a clear day. It wasn't worth taking a picture on the day we went through! Image from summitpost.org.

We got soaked. Full winter cycling gear got soaked through to the skin and I was glad to have the car full of dry stuff to change into before hypothermia set in! A few miles down the road and we were soaked again but as long as we kept moving, we were ok.

The weather continued to batter us all of the rest of that day's 120 mile route. 

In the last 40 miles Heather got a second wind of energy and we pushed hard along the slick wet roads alongside Loch Lomond before finally arriving at the guest house at the south of the loch.

Robin was there to meet us and warned us that the hotelier was particularly fussy about his rooms and we were not to use any products that smelt, a previous occupant had used Deep Heat on his muscles and the owner had needed to replace the bed and carpet to get rid of the smell.

As we both stood, dripping wet, shivering and covered in grit and road grime on his doorstep the hotel owner told us how he used to be a racing cyclist and that we'd clearly overstretched ourselves. At that point he was the most inhospitable host we would have for the whole trip.

Heather asked if he had a bin liner she could put her dirty clothes in and after a delay he came back with two black sacks. Still on the doorstep Heather started peeling off overshoes, raincoat and gloves but we were soaked to the skin.

The landlord looked on disapprovingly while we started shivering uncontollably. It was at this point that, for me, common sense took over and I insisted that Heather run straight to the room and get in the shower. After much persuasion she ran off and I followed.

I understand this man's concern for his furnishings but we needed to get warm urgently.

Rob was sent out for takeaway fish and chips and we were told we must eat it in the dining room which would be locked in 15 minutes.

We would quite happily have eaten it in the road outside now we were dry and warmed up!

The next morning the landlord was more hospitable and explained how he had been exposed to a radiation leak onboard a nuclear submarine causing him many serious health problems. 

We won't stay there again!

Day 4.

Given how friendly the hotel man had been I was sure he wouldn't mind me using his garden hose, so I didn't bother asking before washing the worst of the grit off our bikes and re oiling the chains and moving parts.

He came out to bid us farewell and good luck.

Better weather today and we passed through Glasgow and stopped to have a photo with this guy.

It all seems better when the weather's in your favour! Here's a cafe we stopped in and John had the first nibble on the gingerbread men.

Who's John?!

John the Sheep is our cycling mascot. He first joined us at the Brecon Beacons Visitor's Centre in Wales early last summer.

He's been on cycling trips from Wales to London, Edinburgh to London, London to Cornwall, the Pyrenees as well as climbing up South Wales' highest peak, wild camping in the Peak District, and going to Glastonbury festival and more.

He normally travels peeking out of Heather's bike's top tube bag and recently got the cycling helmet and was knitted the cardigan he's wearing here, for colder days.

Had good scenery today and we both got a little sunburnt!

In the last 10 miles or so we saw a road cyclist up ahead. It was the first time we'd seen someone out for a ride in our trip so far. 

We were catching him slowly so, with Heather ahead we started moving up towards him.

As we got closer he realised we were there and seemed to up his pace. Heather tucked in behind him with me behind her as we decided whether to go past or not.

The guy had now really upped the pace and if we did go past we would have struggled to keep ahead of him.

I considered giving Heather a little push to give her the surge to pass, I expected the bloke would struggle to hold the effort on the hillier bits.

Don't get me wrong, we don't go out to race everyone we see, but this was a good distraction from cycling at our self selected pace and made this section quite fun!

After a bit I could see we weren't going to pass him so I thought I'd go up front to do some of the effort in breaking the air. The cyclist who is in the front does more effort than the ones behind and so you normally take it in turns.

I said hello and that it was only fair that I did some of the work for a bit but instead of sitting behind me the guy came alongside and started a conversation.

We were really putting in some effort to hold the speed now and Heather was hanging in right behind us.

He seemed to want to have a battle of wills so we zipped along at over 20mph chatting as if neither of us were putting in any effort.

He's come out for an evening ride and was doing a 30 mile circuit. We told him about our trip and then he asked the question that I was waiting for, how far had we come that day? 104 miles, looking down at my Garmin, 105 now!

It was at that point he eased off slightly and we were all relieved!

A nice guy and he came with us the last few miles to our accommodation for the night before heading on down the road.

It was a good boost to our spirits.

We'd passed our support driver a few miles back asleep in a lay by, so we had dinner in our cycle kit before he arrived. 

The lovely lady here made us feel very welcome and washed and dried all our cycle kit ready for the next day.

That's my Alfa which was the support car outside the Villiage Inn just north of Gretna Green.

105 miles covered today and we were close to the border with England.

Day 5.

Early start today because we were on a mission! Heather had booked us the treat of a massage at our destination in Lancaster, 86 miles away, the only downside was that 4pm was their only availability so we would have to get a wiggle on!

This section of the route we had ridden before, last year on our Edinburgh to London trip. I'd thought it might be comparatively slightly dull, repeating the same roads and, more importantly, knowing how hard the journey was!

This turned out to be unfounded, and it was actually good to see places that we recognised and had memories of.

We quickly passed through Gretna Green and over the border from Scotland into England.

One of the standout memories from E2L was going over Shap, a big climb that seemed to go on forever. This time it didn't seem so bad with our better levels of fitness and having ridden up mountains ten times bigger in the Pyrenees last month.

We zipped along and arrived at our Holiday Inn with no time to spare.

Got changed and sped off to the town in the car and arrived at the massage 15 minutes late. It was well worth it even if it was 15 minutes short!

138km/86miles covered down to Lancaster.

Day 6.

Doing this kind of challenge where we are pushing ourselves to exhaustion every day takes a lot out of the bodies. Our energy levels go up and down as well as our moods and we have worked out strategies to reduce the effects of these tough times over the course of our training and practice adventures.

We need to eat to have the energy, we need to rest and we need to physically get off the bike at regular intervals to stretch our backs and reapply essential chamois cream!

We take care of each other and make sure we both eat something at snack time and drink at least a little. Sometimes you feel fine and don't want food, but an hour later your body is crashing because you're out of energy. On multi day adventures you are eating for the energy today, tomorrow and the next day. Not getting enough in has a knock on effect.

So of course at times we get grumpy with low energy, this trip worked well and mostly we took it in turns to have bad mood phases. Being a generous sort of person Rob shouldered most of the burden of being the moody one! It often gave Heather and I a common enemy, and this motivated us to work together!! 

But on day 6 we were all grumpy, Heather, me and Robin!

Some time in the afternoon Rob made us all a cup of tea and we got off the bikes. He asked for some tea bags from the main store to refill his portable container and I passed him some decaf ones. I went to pass him the normal caffeinated ones and he shook his head, saying he'd got enough.

It took a couple of minutes for us all to realise that for the last couple of days we'd all been drinking decaf tea, or simply brown water, with no caffeine! No wonder we were all grumpy!! As if cycling 929 miles wasn't challenging enough, we'd also been going cold turkey on caffeine addiction!

This lightened the mood for the rest of the day and the tea supply was repopulated with the essential drug filled pyramid bags.

We crossed over the Mersey and dipped into Wales today. Going through Liverpool we'd headed to the tunnel and I couldn't work out whether cyclists were allowed to use it or not.

There was no cycle path or pavement and it looked a bit precarious to ride through so we stopped to think.

As luck would have it there were two policemen near us who were already looking through the rule book as we approached them! It seemed cyclists could go through, but only early in the morning or late at night.

We would need to take the ferry.... Across the Mersey...

We arrived at the ferry to a Beatles tribute band blasting out some hits and a Beatlemania themed area surrounding the ferry.

We bought the tickets for the 'cruise' and waited 20 minutes for our 30 minute crossing, to the music of the Beatles playing 'Ferry, cross the Mersey'. It was unbelievably cheesy!

Rolled off the ferry and we were overtaken by another cyclist for the first time in 6 days. To make it worse he was on a mountain bike and had a large suitcase under one arm!

Just after we had this photo taken we cycled up to the next stop and Rob had got the whole cafe staff outside to cheer us in! It was a real boost to our day and felt great! 

Only a quick trip to Wales and then we were back in England. 

For the first time ever, my Garmin 310xt gave up on it's faithful routing and kept telling me we were 6,000 miles off course!

Switched over to a manual system and sellotaped a set of instructions to my handlebars. 

We made it to the end with only a few extra miles from going off course.

177km/110 miles to Shrewsbury covered.

Day 7 was another day pedalling into the wind. 

There are some odd things you see on the road while cycling and a pair of red boxer shorts with marijuana print pattern in the gutter didn't rate highly enough for either of us to mention it as we pedalled past.

At least, not until several hundred yards later when a second, green pair appeared! A bit further along and the third pair had us in a frenzy.

By the time we'd seen the fourth, uniquely coloured, marijuana print pants discarded on the roadside, we were in hysterics!

It's sights like these that fill your thoughts and imagination as well as the conversation for several hours a day. What peculiar set of circumstances could have led to this phenomenon??!

159km/99miles to just south of Gloucester.

Day 8.

This was mostly on one main road, with occasional detours onto sidestreets, seemingly Strava wanted to show us hills and scenic tracks.

One of these diverse excursions took us across a ford in the road. I'm sorry to say Heather's bike slipped our from under her on the algae and she hit the ground again, although on the other side of her body.

John the Sheep had an unexpected bath and I had a paddle to rescue them both!

More bruising but again, luckily we were able to carry on. Heather felt good enough to take a picture of me rescuing her bike and John!

Today took us through Cheddar Gorge. We'd been looking forward to this and it didn't disappoint!

The weather had cheered up from a rainy start to sunny for the Gorge and we both took our shoes and socks off to dry in their cafe!

145km/90miles covered through Bristol and down to Taunton in Devon.

Day 9.

We said a temporary goodbye to Rob today, he headed back to home in Cornwall and would meet us midway through the next day, our final section.

The reality of our adventure coming to an end had crept up really fast. I'd expected some days of repeated cycling to be boring at times but this really hadn't happened. The days had almost flown by.

We were headed through Dartmoor today, a beautiful unspoilt landscape of brutal terrain and few inhabitants. There is a prison here for the most hardened criminals. If there is an escape legend has it that the road signs are taken down and escapees struggle to navigate through the endless moors, finding themselves going in circles and eventually handing themselves in!

Just as we passed over a cattle grid and past a sign saying we were in Dartmoor, my gears stopped shifting.

This was to be our hilliest day and the likelyhood of seeing a bicycle shop was about the same as a prison resident escaping.

After some examination it seemed the cable was frayed inside the hood mechanism. I could still ride the bike but it made going up hills an immense effort. After some fiddling I got the gears to stick in my second cog. A low, hill climbing gear, but not as low as I would have chosen for some of the climbs. 

The unfortunate side effect of this was I couldn't go at any speed by pushing the pedals, unless going downhill. 

Heather, being a competitive cyclist, was in her element!

My riding style changed to being either stood up out of the saddle going up, pedalling like mad to keep up with Heather on the flat and then in the most aerodynamic tuck going downhill at perilous speeds to make up lost time!

At one point we passed a Park Ranger Land Rover going the other way, he was glaring because we were at breakneck speed going downhill, well over the 40mph speed limit!

At the peak of one of the biggest climbs we stopped and made full use of an ice cream van. Devon ice cream in a cone topped with Cornish clotted cream. Delicious.

At some point we went past a cyclist going the other way who had stopped and was bent over, holding his knees. I asked if he was ok and he said his knees were hurting. Already! he added. 

Behind him was a motorcaravan and we looked in envy at the superior support vehicle. He even had signs for 'cycle event' on the back

A few days later we found out he'd been doing a world record attempt on LEJOGLE but had abandoned it on the way back down after 3 days. The world record there and back is 5 days 21 hours!

We started becoming very aware that the end of our adventure was approaching. Instead of seeing road warriors, weathered and seasoned at the end of their rides in Scotland, we were seeing the ones who had just set out. Probably on their second day of cycling and a long way ahead of them.

Throughout the journey all the other End to Enders had waved and smiled, no matter what the weather or the angle of road they were cycling up at the time. There was some commeradery between us.

We'd seen riders who looked like the horsemen of the apocalypse, blackened and silent as they passed. We'd seen a group of women with helmets modified with horns, in a Viking style. All of them pushing forwards on their quest.

The day ended with a last surprise hill, must have been a good 15% or more gradient, the sides of the road lined with fresh milk! The source of the milk was a pasturising plant once we'd got to the top, supplied by the fields of cows on each side of the road we'd just climbed up!

Our Landlady that day was very chatty and helpful. She'd booked us a table for dinner at the local pub where we walked in our cycle kit and cleats for our final Jogle supper.

152km/94miles covered today.

Day 10.

We'd got lots of encouragement and support from friends on social media, and one thing I took particular note of was a repeated comment 'Enjoy your last day!'

I decided it was going to be a lot of hassle and delay trying to locate and fit a new campag gear cable, so I opted to carry on stuck in one gear for the remaining 94km/60 miles through Cornwall.

I selected my one gear as a hill climbing gear!

The weather got better as the morning progressed and our thoughts turned towards what the finish would be like.

Our End to End registration forms said that if we let them know in advance then they would announce us over the Tannoy as we got to the Land's End Visitor Centre. After several phone calls that morning to Josh, the End to End coordinator, it transpired that this service was unavailable at present... 

We took an easy ride through to the end of the country. As the last mile approached I decided that I would go against all my normal road ettiquette and I would ride side by side with Heather, holding up some cars rushing to Land's End but feeling it was the right way to finish our adventure.

The Visitor Centre was approaching fast and the toll booth for the car park came first, we were waved through with some applause :)

Then we could see Heather's Children, her Neice, her Mum and her Dad Robin were all at the finish line to cheer us in. 

The kids had made us a banner that said Well Done and they presented us each with a trophy of a Land's End finger signpost ornament. 

We felt fantastic.

This is the official End to Enders journal, where we added our entry.

There is an End to End exhibition at LE.

I had to peel a visitor away from the exhibits to take a photo of us, the latest adventurers to complete it! 

Us with our trusty driver, Rob.

1494km or 929 miles travelled in 10 consecutive days through all types of weather and all types of scenery.

We never did see the three girls who stayed in the same place as us in Scotland, I hope they made it. We didn't see anyone else doing JOGLE either, just the people going the other way.

We did stop and chat to a girl who was pushing a hospital bed 1200 miles over 60 days from JOG to LE. She slept on the bed every night and when we saw her the previous day had been heavy downpours. I hope she made it safely too, she'll still be out there as I write this.

We only had one puncture on the whole trip, and that was in the accident. The 15 spare inner tubes and 20 CO2 tyre inflation cannisters I took should now last a while!

Heather's bike has suffered a scraped derailleur, a bent rear mech hanger and scuffed bar tape. She also needed one new helmet.

On mine there was the gear cable, both wheel's bearings are completely worn out and there's play in the wheels! My pedal bearings are very loose and because one day I turned the bike over to find the frame was full of water, I suspect the bottom bracket bearing may not last much longer!

I think the rain accelerated the wear on everything but we had spares for most eventualities, including a spare set of wheels. We made it through.

This is from my tracker, which kept our friends up to date on our progress.

The gaps are when the gps couldn't get a signal through the rain!

The food symbols are where I used it to send coordinates for Rob to find us.

Conclusion.

10 days cycling the length of Great Britain has been a great adventure.

From the blustery bleak wild rocky terrain of Scotland, with it's hills, valleys and lochs, very few towns or developments, then through the flatter Midlands with urban areas becoming more frequent and the wilds being lost to man's need for homes and business.

Then back to the hilly wild stretches of the West Country, Dartmoor's untamed beautiful bleakness and unspoilt views as far as you can see. Then Cornwall with it's sharply undulating terrain. Steep hills followed by hair raising descents before the road just goes up again, repeating over and over.

The smells of the sea, the bracken and heather (not the smells of Heather, she is a lady and doesn't smell!), the aroma of industry, of fields and of food cooking in warm pubs passed by.

In my opinion this is the best way to see our country, if you have two weeks to spare. Being outside in the open air, passing slowly enough to capture the sights, hear the sounds, smell the scents and taste the air and the rain, all unimpeded and direct to your senses.

If you're thinking of attempting this trip I would wholeheartedly recommend it :)