Day 7 - Keswick to Lochmaben

Waking up after a 'rest day' is horrible. Our legs seemed to have realised what we're putting them through and refuse to move. Eventually we forced ourselves up and ate the usual granola breakfast. After putting on freshly-washed clothes i once again had the amazing pleasure of placing warm, clean-smelling socks and feet into horribly damp shoes for the third day running. At least the sky was refusing to comply with expectations and was remaining dry for the time being.

We're not out of the lakes yet - a hilly start to our 120km day

There is always a conflict while deciding which route to cycle. While the back roads are usually quiet and make for a more enjoyable ride they can be almost continually up and down, especially in the mountains. A-roads on the other hand tend to be on average much flatter and more direct. Constantly being overtaken by inconsiderate drivers isnt exactly fun though.


Today we experienced both as we left the Lake District from Keswick towards Carlisle. Initially we had found that rare balance- a smooth and direct road without much traffic. Then we hit traffic hell for 20km - the busy A595. Despite the road being no wider than previous routes, drivers felt it neccessary to overtake on blind corners, at uncomfortable distances, and even roll down their windows and hurl abuse at one point. We managed to escape onto a back road and rolled into Carlisle for lunch.

And what a lunch it was. We found that students paradise, a Wetherspoons, and gorged ourselves on Steak (it being a,Tuesday) for almost an hour. Bloated with all the meat, we found a minor road alongside the M6 and headed towards the Scottish border where, remarkably, the sun was beginning to break through the thick white clouds that had loomed over us all morning.

We entered Scotland in the town of Gretna, famous as the marriage destination for eloping couples since 1830. We felt no distinct change in atmosphere across the border, but it certainly felt like a milestone for us as we enter the final section of the trip. There are still 4 days cycling to reach Fort William though, so were not becoming nostalgic just yet.

Into Scotland!

After a long stretch westwards from Gretna along a boring agricultural stretch we turned inland. Our route steadily became more undulating and we occasionally passed forests and estates. This was beginning, superficially at least, to look like the scotland i know from books, tv and film.

The campsite we found also conforms strictly to stereotypes, with a view over a Loch and a golf course. I can only hope the highlands reach my lofty expectations of stunning vistas and deep blue lochs.

Stats:
Distance: 105km
Average Speed: 20.1kph
Total distance: 494km
Midge count: 5/10

Rainy-ness: 2/10
Roadkill seen: 3 Hedgehogs, 2 Rabbits, 1 Badger :(

Day 4 - Preston to the Lake District

# Lack of Orange 3G signal means this wasnt published until Sunday night. Apologies. #

The days route complete with an uber-hilly last 25km 

Some touring cyclists might say that taking a train to avoid a 25km round-trip is cheating. We, however, see it as just... opportunistic.

The morning was spent dodging rain showers as we moved up through Preston and followed the M6. A similar route is taken by Lands End to John O'Groats cyclists, a few of which we passed and met on Lancashire's back-streets. Im not saying theres such a thing as tour-envy, but LE-JOG is certainly more impressive than our route.

The incriminating train journey took place just north of Lancaster, where we had stopped for a late lunch and met up with Vicky, probably the only person we know living on our long route to Scotland. Having set off along back roads northwards we noticed that the route to the southern tip of the lake district needed a huge detour inland around a wide estuary. The local train, however, took a serious short-cut and hopped across the river in 10 minutes. Without much deliberation we decided to pay the £1.20 and enter Cumbria in style.

The sunny view from Arnside Station towards the 23km round trip we avoided.

Sometimes opinions of things can change extremely rapidly. Take my thoughts on Cumbria today, for example. We had just arrived in Grange-by-Sands, a busy and picturesque sort of place stuck between a steep hillside and the sea. Maybe it was the sun on the well-kept trees and bushes, maybe it was the bustling streets, but whatever it was - I liked the feeling of the place. Cumbria, I decided, was my kind of county. Fifteen minutes of jelly-legged, 15-percent-gradient hill-climbing later the honeymoon period was over and I was hurling abuse at the place. Steep hills definitely aren't a cyclists best friend.

The final hour of cycling was spent getting lost in Cumbrias rolling hills. The great thing about getting lost while cycling in england is that all it takes in a 20 second glance at google maps and you're back on your way again. We finally struggled up a long dirt track to our campsite of choice and, having paid, found a slug-filled empty field with a metal shipping container for a toilet block. Exchanging nervous glances we explored the loo block and found the nicest (and free-est) hot showers we have encountered thus far. I guess, with toilets and counties alike, first impressions arent always insightful.

Tomorrow we cycle 30km to our campsite in the langdale valley and spend the next 6 hours climbing England's highest point - Scafell Pike.

Stats:
Distance: 104km
Total Distance: 320km
Average speed: 18.5kph

Rain score: 2/10.
Cumbrian slugs squished: 23.