Here we are, the first proper day. So we made sure we got a good english brekkie down our necks, said good morning to the weird woman who spent the whole of yesterday sitting in a chair outside with a fag in her mouth saying “hioh”. Then it was time to start. Well, it was time to start sorting out everyone.Pump up tires, dust off Brendons breaks, attach Span’s panniers, attach spans multiple other bags – take some things out of Spans bags and put them in the car – wait for Brend to get his big camera out – but, eventually we cycled the half mile to the start… After a few obligatory pictures at the start point off we went…
10 mins and a couple of miles in it rained.
It wasnt long before we came to our first grads just outside of Canton, going through a sort of park place – it was quite steep and i think this was a sign of things to come. At the top we noticed something – no Brend. What had happened to Mr Powerful, the awe inspiring Big Bad Brend, he was suffering on the grads!!! Oh dear. Thats what you get for spending the last year taking photo’s and doing no cycling… It starting raining more heavily.
The rains came down, the Brend struggled, we went up and down until the leader of the pack suggested it might be an idea to pause for cookies at Canton. It was bucketing down. We unpacked and walked into a little empty cafe and were served by a simpleton. As we sat dripping into our tea Span went off to the toilets only to return looking quite perturbed. He notified us that there were 100’s of spiders in the toilet, and told the simpleton in no uncertain terms how silly this was. I dont like spiders, I would have liked a wee. The rain rained, heavily.
After tea and cakes we set off again, wet and cold – in search of the safety of Settle and some lunch.After leaving Clapham we took the main road to avoid the rubbish cycle path, and at Austwick we tried to re-find the cycle path. Marrsy as always led the way and we were worried. We dared to subtle question his navigation, but he was sure – positive in fact (and too be honest slightly dismissive) so we followed like the lambs were are. Up and up we went with no sign of a cycle route – we passed signed which told us lunch was only 5 miles away whilst we headed in the opposite direction. But what-u-know, Farmer Marrs was right finally, after a 237 mile diversion we were back on track – and looking for nosh.
Nosh came inside a little cafe, which had others cyclists in – who warned us about the “big *laugh* hill” just outside Settle. No probs we thought as we stuffed down our toasties. Fully refreshed and a little cold we started the famous climb out of Settle, the biggest hill on the route, and in fact the biggest hill in the world. It was steep, it was probably the steepest hill I had ever cycled up, but it was long too. Very long. Really very long, and steep. And long. I had gone up so far and then had to steer across the road to make the incline slightly less, each revolution of the pedals was harder and harder I just. could. not. pedal. around. again. As I had clips on, I had to try to get my feet out, at .012 miles an hour, I just manged, but then collapsed under the weight of my fat gut (and napsack) and literally slid a few feet down this hill. But pushing was almost harder. I pushed around 15 yards with Span then we managed to get back on board and way we went. The hill went on for ages, and had some other steep bits but the worst was behind us – it was uphill all the way.
Once we got over this though we pretty much had down hill for miles, wonderful and the rain had stopped and all was well with the world. Then it started raining again and we got wet, within 34 seconds it went from a light smattering of water to a torrential downpour and we sheltered outside a chruch, under the cover they have on the gate. It really rained, it was cold.
Coming to the end of the day, we started the final climb. Well the first of a number of final climbs. Everyone was tired and cold and wet, and we knew it was a hill up, then a very quick drop into the night stop over. The hill went up and up and when we got to the top it went up some more, and more and more and then we were at the top, but no, it still went up and up – but finally we were at the top. Then we had to go up some more. Marrsys bike broke at this point – his “bearings” had gone – and he was the navigator!!! Anyway, we did finally get to the top and Span the fearless shot down the hill at 1000 miles an hour, I went down with my breaks on all the way and Marrsy went down s-l-o-w-l-y. But we were there, first day of cycling complete. Easy Peasy Lemon Squeezy.
Stayed in a place called Lyndale Guest House which was very good. Big rooms, great shower and 5 mins from the pub. Got sorted and escaped to the crown as soon as poss.. Had a coupl eof pints of Stella “4” which was nice, and got my head spinning nicely, so we needed good cycling grub so nipped down the road to the Indian – bring your own booze. To say it was slow would be a slight understatement, it took around an hour to get our order taken (lucky we brought our own beer), then another half hour or so for the nosh. But we were hungry by then, and the curry was top draw. Up to the “other” pub then for some more beers and a whisky for the navigator (and another Sparkly Water for Brend) and listened to some bloke singing songs which Brendon guessed before he started everytime. Then Bed.