On a Roll?

 After last week's 100km (nominal) ride, this weekend I thought I'd try an step it up a bit, so I planned on riding 150km. I did think about riding the "Cotswold Goat" Audax, starting from Warwick, but I rode that a couple of years ago, so where's the fun in that? In fact, every time I go out for a ride, I try to ride somewhere I haven't yet been. This is fairly easy to do, because I use Strava, the activity tracking app to track my rides.

Roads I have ridden on are orange, whereas roads that I haven't ridden on are mostly blue - someone else has ridden them, but not me. When I go out to ride roads that I haven't ridden, I call this "colouring in", which has become quite addictive. I have found some pretty little villages, even nearby, by colouring in, riding down roads that I wouldn't ride down, just because they're not on the way to somewhere else. It's the epitome of "the road less traveled".

This weekend I picked Ludlow, as a rough destination, but as Robert Louis Stevenson said "I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel's sake. The great affair is to move". As such, the trip to Ludlow would be an adventure in itself. After all, I've been to Ludlow on several occasions.

Saturday dawned bright and cold. I woke at 5.30 am to take Stella and Lucy for a walk, as I do every morning and my weather app told be it was 3°C, (feels like -1), but the dogs didn't seem to mind. I was back after 45 minutes, fed the dogs and fed myself. I dressed up warm and went to grab my bike. I chose my Thorn Sherpa - the bike I rode back from Morocco in 2024, because it has big chunky tyres, and some of the lanes I was going to ride were undoubtedly going to be a little bit worse for wear after the winter. I'd checked it over on Friday night, pumped up the tyres, lubed the chain, etc, so it was ready to go.

It's become impossible for me to leave Worcester on a road that I haven't already ridden, with the exception of the M5, so the first 20km at least are always going to be on familiar roads. I headed off through the park , across the A38 and towards the river Severn, but It wasn't long before I noticed a rubbing noise. I obviously hadn't checked the bike that well. Fortunately, it was only the tyre rubbing the mudguard. I tried unsuccessfully to bend it a little, but gave up. It would just have to rub. I crossed the river and headed north through St. John's, stopping at the red traffic light, as do all good cyclists. I waited for the green light... And waited... Unfortunately these lights were "smart", but not smart enough to sense a cyclist. I gave up and pressed the pedestrian crossing button. Off I sprinted, turning north again and riding for another couple of hundred metres before being stopped yet again, by the level crossing. Was this going to be one of those days?

Once the train had passed I was off again, joining the A443 road shortly afterwards. I don't like riding A roads, I just don't like the traffic, but I assumed that it would be reasonably quiet, because it was still only 8 am or so. There was quite a lot of traffic, but it was mostly heading in to Worcester on the other side of the road. It wasn't too long before I joined the B4196 at Holt Heath anyway, so much more pleasant. Again, this is a road I've ridden loads, so it wouldn't present any surprises. I spun along, enjoying the early morning sunshine, despite the cold and taking in the sights and sounds. "Full English Breakfast, two for £20", boasted the Lenchford Inn. Another day, maybe. "Shrawley Village Hall - space to hire". "Under New Ownership - The New Inn".

My Garmin beeped at me "Climb 1 of 10". I stood up on the pedals and made short shrift of climb 1 of 10 up to Astley - home of Astley Vineyard and some surprisingly good wine. A couple of hundred metres further and my Garmin beeped at me to turn left, in to the first of many back roads and lanes. Just before the turn my eyesight was caught by the bright graffiti in the bus shelter. "Punk's not dead", it proclaimed, along with some other deeply meaningful messages.

Quite why someone would travel to what is, while not quite the middle of nowhere, somewhere not far from it, to impart such a message, I don't know. Top marks for the apostrophe though.

Before long I was back on the A451, but only for a short while before turning on to "Shavers End". According to my Garmin this wasn't actually a hill, but I'd have to disagree. At least at the slower pace I could enjoy the extremely green field to my left and the imposing, jagged face of the disused quarry in the near distance, where limestone was once extracted. Despite fencing it off, the quarry and the "blue lagoon" has been the site of several fatal accidents for wild-swimmers. No swimmers today, perhaps, but a couple of dog walkers at the top of the hill, before I dropped down the far side. I paused to take in the view to the north from the top of Abberley Ridge. A little further on I paused again. "Must take more photos", I thought to myself, so here's a picture of some of the locals:

These would be the first of many sheep. In fact, today turned out to be very sheepy. It's obviously been a good year for them. I rode on through Abberley Village, past the turning for a road named simply "The Hill", which I rode last year. I can confirm that it lives very much up to its name. I did manage to ride it without walking, although at times it was difficult to keep traction on the back wheel, while keeping the front wheel on the ground at the same time. A little further on I passed St Mary's Church, which I thought was quite picturesque, so I took yet another picture.

My little lane came to an end at the Village hall and I turned on to a bigger, slightly busier road. I noticed "School Meadow" opposite; "Abberley Meadows, an exclusive development offering a selection of beautiful 2, 3 & 4 bedroom houses. I've always thought it odd that developers bulldoze a meadow, but retain the twee name. Another favourite of mine is Wildlife Way, Droitwich, which while it may once have been a haven for some wildlife, is now a sterile collection of executive homes and block-paved driveways.

I continued northwards and upwards to Clows Top, where I briefly thought about coffee, but it was far too early. I forked off of the B road on to another little lane, effectively cutting off the corner that the B road took between Clows Top and Cleobury Mortimer (pronounced Clibbree Mortimer). There's usually a reason why main roads don't cut corners and this was one of those obvious ones, where the main road maintained elevation, and my route plunged down in to a valley and back up the other side. I enjoyed the plunging down, not quite the crawl up the other side. At least while plunging I had a nice view.

If you squint you can see the radar station at the top of Clee Hill, which was originally built in 1941, but now hosts a radar dome that is part of the National Air Traffic Service. The dome makes it stand out, but at 533 metres (1,749 ft) above sea level, it's not the highest hill in Shropshire, but it's only 7 metres lower than Brown Clee, slightly further north. I continued plunging until I could plunge no further in to the village of Bayton, before climbing out of the other side of the valley. More plunging then ensure as I dropped in to the River Rea Valley. Here, the road become much less of a road and more of a pothole-ridden quagmire, which I traversed carefully on my trusty steed. More climbing, then all at once I'd arrived in Cleobury. A few metres further up the road and I spotted a cafe. It must be time now, surely?

After a coffee, a piece of cake an a leisurely chat with another customer and the proprietor about life in general and the price of the honey in the window (£8.75), I set off through the rest of the town and swung off to the right towards Catherton and the appropriately-named Hill Houses. I rattled across the cattle grid at the top of the hill on to Catherton Common and stopped for a breather and a brief drink. Further on there was sheepy-traffic to avoid, just before I crossed the cattle grid at the other side of the common. A thought: If a cattle grid is clearly containing sheep, shouldn't it be called a sheep grid?

At Hill Houses the road was "closed". Nevertheless, "closed" doesn't always mean "closed to cyclists", or indeed "closed to pedestrians". I ignored the sign and carried on. There was some evidence that the road had been closed, but luckily it was not, as it would have involved a lengthy detour. I was now very much on Clee Hill itself, having climbed from about 250 feet at the aforementioned River Rea, almost continuously to where i was now, at nearly 1,100 feet. Not only that,I was heading in to a brisk North-Easterly wind. I passed a flag earlier that was quite clearly fully extended and snapping, indicating a force 5 "strong breeze", or 25 to 31 mph.

It was pretty bleak up here today - I can only imagine what it must be like in midwinter.

Shortly later I passed through Cleeton St Mary, which clings to the north-facing side of Clee Hill and must spend a large amount of time in the shadow of the same. It seemed very windswept and deserted, although not entirely devoid of life. According to the "A Church Near You" website, the primary occupations were farming, although mining and quarrying were also undertaken.Coal had been mined in short shaft Bell pits, the remains of which can be seen all around. I did not see any bell pits, but there again I wasn't looking for them.

I did see the Clee Hill Radar dome though, behind the church. After Cleeton St Mary, the rode rose yet again, before the highest point on the route, just to the south of Brown Clee, at 1,174 feet.

The next Ten miles should have been an absolute blast, given that it was almost entirely downhill, but the poor road surface and an impromptu hail storm made it somewhat less enjoyable. Wind I can deal with, and rain too, but hail is one of those things that, once it becomes a little heavier, is difficult to deal with. It started lightly, but after a few minutes it became heavier and it was just too painful to carry on. Under normal circumstances I'd find a convenient tree to hide under, or perhaps a bus shelter, but this was no bus route and the trees are still bare. All I could do was stop next to a tree that had a reasonable growth of ivy on it, which at least offered some protection.

The storm didn't last long and soon I was barreling downhill towards Ludlow and after a couple more hail-stops I arrived at the "Home of the Hedgecutter" (McConnel hedge cutters are manufactured here) about 45 minutes later.

I knew exactly where I wanted to go and what I wanted to eat, as I'd been here only a few weeks ago, so I headed straight for Bill's Kitchen in Castle Square, chained my bike to the railings outside and went in an ordered a "meal in a bowl", somewhere between a thick chunky soup and a stew. Combined with a granary roll and a can of cola it was just what the doctor ordered. Not only that, but because it's sitting there in a pot, it was ready to go. In fact, it was served and eaten in less than 20 minutes, allowing myself to be back on the road as soon as possible.

I left Bill's, unlocked my bike and rode off past the castle.

The castle is only a ruin now, but it has a long history dating from the 11th century. About the only part that I can remember is that Arthur Tudor, Prince of Wales and eldest son of King Henry VII, died at Ludlow Castle in 1502, at age 15. This means that his brother, Henry became King Henry the VIII, and we all know how that went. Badly, at least for most of his wives.

I didn't loiter, although one day I should go back and visit properly, but dropped down the hill to cross the river Teme. Again, I paused to take in the view and grab a photo.

The day was becoming a little less pleasant now. It was still cold and windy, but there were fewer "sunny intervals" now, the forecast predicting further showers all afternoon. I rode further North-West, in to the teeth of the wind, parallel with the river. I had worried that I wouldn't be able to ride through to Bromfield as the map showed a "Private Gate - no vehicle access" label, but bicycles seemed to be OK. The route went through Oakly Park, the grounds of an 18th century country house, although I didn't see the house, but there were plenty of walkers enjoying the grounds.

Before long I was back on the A4113, but not for long, as I began to turn southwards towards Downton. Here, I began to see signs for "Downton-this" and "Downton-that", as I passed through the "Downton Estate" (5,000 acres of magnificent English Countryside and divided by the River Teme, apparently). I didn't see any signs for "Downton Abbey", although there was one for "Downton Church". More sinister is the naming of "Killhorse Lane", although allegedly this typically refers to a location for disposing of dead horses, rather than criminal offenses...

Shortly later I turned eastwards, heading for home. This involved riding through "The Goggin", which sounds like an interesting place, but basically involved a big hill, although not the highest of the day, most certainly the steepest, at 17% (1 in 6). The ride through the wooded valley and the nature reserve at the top was very pretty though, and obviously a popular destination for hikers, some of whom congratulated me on my strenuous efforts riding up the hill. "Not far now", one of them offered in encouragement.

On the descent on the other side there was a spectacular view, although it would have been more spectacular on a sunnier day.

Nevertheless, you can see the many masts of Wooferton radio station looming in the distance. Again, established in WWII, the site remains and is still used to transmit the BBC World Service. I wonder if the Antarctic Midwinter Broadcasts that I listened to at Faraday in 1993, 1994 and 1995 were broadcast from here?

Dropping down from The Goggin to Orleton was at least very pleasant, not least because the wind was now at my back, as it was to remain for the vast majority of the trip home. The weather was otherwise deteriorating and the showers becoming more frequent and the trip home was much more direct, aside from some wiggles for more "colouring-in". I was also starting to feel the pressure of a pre-arranged dinner with a friend in the evening, so was obliged to press on somewhat. Aside from a brief flirt with the A49 I stuck to the back-roads though, weaving through the patchwork quilt of fields that is the British countryside. On any other day I would have dropped down in to Bromyard for a cup of tea and some cake at the Cosy Cafe, but today I stayed up on the Bromyard Downs. I was rewarded by the sight of a Red Kite circling low overhead. I had seen a few today, but this one was particularly low, so I took a photograph of it.

Unfortunately it zoomed out of the frame just as I pressed the shutter. Oh well...

After crossing the Bromyard-Tenbury road I dropped down through the grounds of Whitbourne Hall, another fine country house with beautiful grounds that I wasn't entirely sure I should have been cycling through. Nobody stopped me though, so that's a result! I would have hated to have been stopped and forced to ride back up the hill again.

This brought me back out on the A44, but a short blast along to Knightwick and I was back in the lanes again and picked up along roads I'm only too familiar with. Through Alfrick, Leigh, Bransford and Powick, along the dual-carriageway A4440 (thankfully on a cycle path) and shortly to home. 

All in all an enjoyable, but hard day, with 95 miles covered and 7,835 feet climbed (153 km/2,388m). The weather (apart from the hail) wasn't too bad, although it was getting a bit nippy towards the end and I was glad of a hot shower. And yes, I made it in time for dinner.

Next long ride? I don't know. I'd like a ride a 200 km Audax, perhaps as part of a qualifying series (200, 300, 400, 600) for the Paris-Brest-Paris next year? After last years fiasco at the London-Edinburgh-London I still feel a bit deflated. What do you think? Feel free to let me know in the comments.

Hiatus...

It's been a while. It's not that I haven't been riding my bike; well, that's not entirely true, I haven't ridden my bike at all in January or February, deciding instead to just lose some weight. After Christmas in Somerset my weight rose to 13 stones and 12 lbs (88kg) and I'd decided that was enough and planned to spend January and February on the Cambridge diet, or the 1:1 diet, as they like to call it now. I've done it a few times now and for whatever reason I know it works for me. This meant no bike riding, but fortunately that also meant that I've missed the wettest winter ever!

By March the first my weight was down to 11st 3 (71kg), so over 16kg lost.

I celebrated by going out for a couple of short rides in the evening, but due to commitments on the farm in Somerset I haven't been able to do anything longer.

This weekend has been the first opportunity for a ride in daylight, but what should I do? Well, one of the first Audax rides of the season would have been the "Snowdrop Express", but I missed the organised event. That wouldn't preclude me from riding it on my own though, as a DIY event. So I purchased my DIY brevet and entered on Friday.

Saturday morning arrived and with sunshine promised it looked like it might be a nice day for it. I didn't get away until about 11am after walking the dogs, but as it's "only" a 100km (actual 119) I didn't think it would matter.

I also decided that as it was "only" 100km that I'd ride it on my Pashley Guv'nor, described as "a revival of one of Pashley's oldest designs, the 1930s Path Racer, but updated to cope with the demands of modern life". I did the Snowdrop Express last year on the Guv'nor, including riding to and from the start point near Kidderminster, a total distance of 110 miles, so I knew it was possible.

After too much faffing around I eventually set off and almost immediately remembered that I hadn't brought a bicycle pump. After a short burst of expletives I decided that I couldn't be bothered to go back and get one and decided to carry on without one. If I did get a puncture perhaps I could flag down another cyclist, or walk to a garage.

With that thought put to the back of my mind I wound my way though the outskirts of Worcester and headed north towards Droitwich. I had the route in my GPS, but to be honest I was on autopilot, having used this route many times for riding to and from work when I lived in Kidderminster. I kept thinking "I ought to stop and take a photo or two", but just didn't I'm rubbish at social media. Maybe I'm just antisocial?

As I passed through Tibberton I noted a placard announcing "Save Tibberton Bridge", which apparently is suffering from being hit by too many HGV's. This is a narrow bridge that crosses the Worcestershire and Birmingham canal just at the exit of the village. I also noticed that the pub, also called "The Bridge" looks like it needs saving too, as it appeared to be closed and surrounded by Heras fencing, another casualty of the current public house crisis.

I passed through Droitwich, past the golfists, that seem to take great pleasure in crossing Crutch Lane from one side to the other without practicing the Green Cross Code. Just before Elmbridge I stopped to take off by neck buff, as it was beginning to warm up and the morning mist was burning off. Joining the A442 at Rushock reminded me exactly why I generally choose to ride the back lanes, as cars sped past impatiently heading to wherever it was that they were going. Luckily I didn't have to ride along the A442 for long as I turned off towards the Whitlenge Gardens and Tearoom, which under normal circumstances would be the start point of the "Snowdrop Express".

I'd only covered 25km and it was barely midday, so possibly too early for lunch and too late for coffee, but as the saying goes, "it seemed rude not to", so I settled for the latter and ordered a slice of raspberry and white chocolate sponge cake and a latte.

My next "stop" wouldn't be until Evesham and I was a little concerned that I might be "too late for lunch" and "too early for tea" when I go there, so this would keep me going for a while. I scoffed my cake and downed my coffee and headed outside, where the Gur'nor was looking quite handsome propped up against a gazebo, so I took a snap of that too.

I turned left out of the garden centre and rode past the Wienerberger brickworks at Hartlebury. There was a conveyor belt across the road, with a net strung beneath it, presumably to protect passing cyclists from falling bricks, although the net had seen better days, so I'm not sure how effective it would have been.

Again, these were all familiar roads to me and familiar sights. Perhaps I should have take a picture of St Mary's church in Elmbridge, (rebuilt in 1873 but retains a 12th century south doorway and Norman pillars and capitals in the north arcade) looking quite pretty in the sunshine. but I didn't.

From Elmbridge I headed across to Wychbold, home to the Droitwich Transmitting Station, which these days transmits BBC radio 4 and 5, but during World War II used to transmit coded message to the French resistance (cue visions of Rene Artois from 'allo 'allo). I continued towards Hanbury, home to the 1700 National Trust Hanbury Hall, which I've never been to, but probably should.

I rode along a slightly busier road now, that links Droitwich and Redditch and began to notice a much more significant amount of little on the roadside. This has always been something that annoys me - this is obviously litter that has been cast from moving vehicles. You don't notice it as much when you are driving along at 60mph, but when you are riding along at 12mph to very much do. I'd like to think that I've traveled fairly extensively, particularly through South America and Europe, but I think that the United Kingdom has some of the worst littering anywhere. Ironically, shortly later I passed a lady near Inkberrow, who was litter picking her local stretch of road. I stopped to tell her that I appreciated her efforts, even if it appeared that others may not. We had a short chat about the kind of mentality that litterbugs must have. She noted that, as I have noticed in the past, that a large proportion of litter consists of so called "energy drinks", especially those that give you wings. Now, I've been known to look for some extra energy, especially when 100 miles in to a 120 mile ride, but I've never discarded my empties on the roadside, so if you're driving a two-ton lump of metal you have even less excuse?

Anyway, I passed through the Lenches (a group of villages that share the name Lench, deriving from the Old English hlenc meaning 'extensive hill slope', noting that the house in Church Lench seems to have run out of the extremely pleasant honey I bought back in November and finally dropped down in to the Vale of Evesham and Evesham itself. I zipped through the town centre and headed for the excellent cafe at Hampton Ferry. I'm not sure if there is even a ferry anymore, but the cafe is a frequent stop and fortunately for me, they were still serving food, even though it was nearly 3pm. I opted for the broccoli and Stilton soup, which arrived with a freshly-baked mini baguette. It was quite possibly the best broccoli and Stilton soup I've ever had, although it was hotter than the surface of the sun and took quite a while and quite a lot of blowing to cool down enough to eat.

Leaving Evesham I headed towards Pershore before forking off towards Elmley Castle on the "Blossom Trail". Google informs me this is "a 50-mile scenic route through Worcestershire’s Vale of Evesham, showcasing vibrant fruit orchards from mid-March to mid-May. Renowned as a top spring attraction, it features pink and white plum, pear, and apple blossoms". I didn't notice a huge amount of vibrancy, but I do admit there was some blossom to be seen.

I passed through Little and Great Comberton, before stopping to admire the view over the valley of the river Avon towards Eckington.

For most of January and February the River Avon has burst its banks, giving the impression of a large inland lake, but today it had behaved itself and hadn't even closed the bridge at Eckington. I believe that this years "Snowdrop Express" was able to cross, but it was touch and go for a while...

I was pushing quite hard now, as it was getting late, although the weather was still very pleasant. I'd removed my leg warmers and long-sleeved top in Evesham and was surprised at how warm it was.

The route now took a loop south from Defford, a former WWII airfield before heading to Upton upon Severn. Under normal circumstances I'd have stopped at the Stable Tearooms in Upton, but they looked very closed and it was nearly 5pm.

To be honest, I didn't really need sustenance at this point (although I was a little disappointed that the ice-cream van wasn't there) and I was only 10 miles or so from home, so I thought it best to crack on. From Upton I followed National Cycle Network route 45 home - again a route I've ridden many times. In fact, I rode it only a couple of weeks ago, but disappointingly had to stop a couple of times to pump up my tyre due to a puncture. No puncture today though, just as well as I had no pump, remember?

I rolled on to my driveway at about 5.45pm, a little over 7 hours after starting out. Time for a shower, a quick bite to eat and take Stella to the park for a walk again.

With a bit of luck I'll be able to get out again next weekend for a slightly longer ride and build up the miles again. Watch this space, as the saying goes - but don't hold your breath!

Day 22, Faringdon to the Amicii kennels!

Well, after an absolutely brilliant night's sleep at The Old Crown Coaching Inn in Faringdon (probably one of the most comfortable beds I've ever slept in) and a proper breakfast (none of your pinchos or croissants here), I set off about 10am on the final leg (on my final legs).

It was fairly flat and fast across the Thames valley and I made pretty good time, although I very nearly got distracted by a tractor parts sale, but I can't have been paying attention to the route planning, as I had a fairly long stretch along the A361 and another on the A40, neither of which were very pleasant. 

After Burford I cut across to Bourton on the water, which was as busy as it always is, then I headed off up the long hill towards the north side of the Cotswolds. I had a wonderful surprise when I arrived at the top, as there was my work colleague Stephen, waiting with his family to cheer me on and, more importantly, they had donuts!

There followed the long drag across the Cotswolds, before the well deserved drop downhill in to Broadway. I had to stop for food in Broadway, as I was running low on energy.

Then it was another unpleasant blast along the A44 in to Evesham and finally there was an unpleasant surprise in the form of a couple of steep hills after Lenchwick and Church Lench, a final sting in the tail!

After that, it was a short run to the Amicii Dog Rescue and Rehabilitation UK kennels, where a reception committee was waiting with coffee and cakes!

So, after over 1,700 miles and three weeks this adventure is over, and what an adventure it's been. Last year's trip (apart from the food poisoning) was a breeze in comparison. There was more than one occasion where I was ready to throw in the towel. The day to Seville in the heat and at least one time riding up the west coast of France in the pouring rain. Everyone's comments spurred me on though, and the generosity of all of you that have donated to the cause. The Amicii Dog Rescue Romania team and the team here in the UK work so hard in often not the best conditions to help all the dogs and without your funding none of this would happen. 

Once again, thank you for all your support and no, I won't be doing this again!

Special thanks is reserved to my wife, Jill, without her support none of this would be possible. 

Sorry, I didn't take any photos today, but here's a photo of my Amicii Dog, Stella.

#abitofabikeride 

https://justgiving.com/campaign/a-bit-of-a-bike-ride

Day 21, Portsmouth to Faringdon, 82 miles.

Not a huge amount of sleep last night on the ferry. Got on and went to have a shower and straight to bed, but after all the announcements about turning off alarms and putting your handbrake on (not applicable), about the bars being open (unwise) and what to do if the ferry sank (it didn't) it was about midnight. Five hours later I was woken by more announcements telling me breakfast was available, etc...

Rolled down the ramp at about 6.60 and headed off in to the darkness. Managed to navigate through multiple roundabouts and avoided cycling down the M27 and within 30 minutes had found my first hill. There were hills a-plenty today, the south downs and the north Wessex downs mostly, but plenty of ups and downs along the way. Apparently according to a 77 year old cyclist I met at the top of one hill we were at the highest point in Hampshire. 

I managed to remember to stop for food a couple of times, which was oh so much easier to find than in deserted French and Spanish villages.

The weather was good, although the wind was a bit cold to start with, but OK after a while. The route, while a bit hilly and busy with traffic at times, went through some beautiful villages, which I stopped to take pictures. 

And so I've stopped in Faringdon, Oxfordshire. I feel a bit guilty, because the entire distance from Portsmouth to the kennels is just 130 miles, a distance I've ridden many times and usually takes me about 12 hours. However, that's with a bike that weighs 10kg, not 40! Hopefully a night's rest will sort out the cramp in my calf and tomorrow the remaining 50 miles will fly by!

#abitofabikeride 

Amicii Dog Rescue and Rehabilitation UK 

Amicii Dog Rescue Romania 

https://justgiving.com/campaign/a-bit-of-a-bike-ride

Day 20, Domfront to Ouistreham, 72 miles.

I probably should have stayed in bed earlier, or had a more leisurely breakfast, because despite riding as slowly as possible, I've still arrived at least five hours too early. I blame the French cycling routes, they're just too good.

I left Domfront at 8.20 and almost immediately headed out on about 15 miles of old railway. When that ended, it was a bit up and down for a while before I hit the Voie Verte Normandie Suisse, which took me all the way to Caen. Passing through Caen was also very efficient due to the well designed cycleway, then there was another traffic free ride all the way to Ouistreham. 

I must admit, it was a bit nippy in Normandie Suisse, because it was cloudy and there was a sharp north wind. I stopped at Le Caillou - Restaurant et Café in, well in the middle of nowhere, but it was just in the right place for me. Nice cup of hot chocolate and a cookie and I thought "that'll tide me over until lunchtime". Now lunchtime should have happened at Thury-Harcourt, but the cafe by the side of the Voie Verte was closed. For lunch. Whoever heard of a cafe that closed for lunch? Only in France. 

Anyway, I just carried on to Caen, which wasn't much better by this time, unless I was prepared to divert to the centre. Salvation came in the form of a German supermarket. 

From there it was just a slow ride along the Caen canal to Ouistreham, and now I must wait...

#abitofabikeride 

Amicii Dog Rescue and Rehabilitation UK 

Amicii Dog Rescue Romania 

https://justgiving.com/campaign/a-bit-of-a-bike-ride

Day 19, Château-Gontier to Domfront, 70 miles.

There's an author who's books I read who coined the phrase "Mercedes Day", when all things told, you'd rather have done the trip in a chauffeur driven Mercedes than on a bike. Today was not a Mercedes day, although heaven knows, I've had a few on this trip... The day riding to Seville, when the temperature hit 45°; The day riding from Bayonne in the pouring rain and hail; the day to Saumur when it couldn't make up its mind if it was going to rain or not, and yesterday, when it rained continuously for hours. I may get another, but let's hope not.

I left Château-Gontier at about 8.30, after a good night's sleep and a good breakfast, and almost immediately went back on to the riverside path, following the Mayenne for miles and miles. And I mean miles and miles, about 40, to be precise. It wasn't paved, but the surface was so good I made excellent progress.

After a couple of hours (as explained in this morning's video update) I heard this voice "Steve! Steve! C'est moi, Pierre" and I was caught up by the guy (I assume the manager/owner) of the bike shop from the previous day. "Thanks for the (Google) review!" He was just out for a morning ride, but I guess he got to Laval a lot faster than me, because I saw him on the way back too!

I stopped for a coffee and a lemon pie in Laval and in a typically French scene, the post lady pulled up outside with her e-bike and stopped for a coffee too.

Just before Laval there was some serious work being undertaken on one of the weirs, and all the lock gates had been left open to let the river level fall enough to perform the works. This continued all the way up the river until the town of Mayenne itself, but nevertheless the riverside scenery was very pretty. I stopped taking pictures of lockside buildings after a while...

After Mayenne, I left the riverside, but followed an Avenue Verte, on a disused railway for about 15 miles, followed by a short stretch of roads and another railway for another 10 miles. It makes me wonder why we don't have so many of these in England? Imagine the Taunton to Barnstaple greenway, now that would be exceptional.

I arrived in tonight's stop of Domfront at about 5.15 pm, time to walk up to the old town before returning to digs.

With a bit of luck, tomorrow should be my last day in France, I have less that 75 miles to the port and the ferry doesn't sail until 23.30 or something silly. Then it's Portsmouth on Friday morning and homeward bound...

#abitofabikeride 

Amicii Dog Rescue and Rehabilitation UK 

Amicii Dog Rescue Romania 

https://justgiving.com/campaign/a-bit-of-a-bike-ride

Day 18, Saumur to Château-Gontier, 75 miles.

Well, what a day! I knew it was going to be wet, but that was ridiculous! Six hours in the pouring rain, until eventually I just rode out of the north side of the storm. It doesn't matter how good your waterproofs are either, if you ride long enough and hard enough you're going to get wet.

I hadn't even gone a mile before I got to the first "route barrée" sign either, so it's been another one of those days too. I think there were four divisions, two that I knew about and two that I didn't. All required some weaving around the houses to get me back on track.

I'm sorry, I didn't take many pictures in the rain, I just don't like my phone getting that wet. The exception had to be when I got to the DIY chain ferry across L'Authion river/canal. I'd heard about it, but to be honest I'd put it to the back of my mind in the "I'll deal with it later" cubbyhole. Well, I had to deal with it today. Typically the thing was on the other side of the river, so I had to pull it over so I could use it. Then I was concerned I'd slip in to the river getting on, or that I'd drift off down the river like Corporal Jones in the Dad's Army film. Fortunately, nothing like that happened and after a lot of heaving on the chain I was on the other side. The only casualty was my cape, which got muddy. The pouring rain soon washed that off.

I rode through the old Angers slate quarry, which looked like it could have been worth more time, but again, not in the rain. I made my way through the city and headed off up the path by the river Mayenne, which I'm sure would be delightful on a sunny day, but the path had turned in to a muddy quagmire through which my tyres squirmed their way.

About 2pm, the rain stopped and I was near Montreuil-Juigné by this time, so I took a few photos when I could. The river Mayenne is obviously navigable as there are plenty of locks and attractive lock buildings. I don't know if they are Mills too. The odd château kept materialising too.

On one of the diversions it became obvious that something was very wrong with my brakes, as the back one was making a horrible grinding noise and the front one wasn't working very well at all. At one point I went straight past a turn, because there was no chance of me stopping! I investigated and the grit and water of the paths had totally worn down my brake blocks, so they needed replacing urgently. I did wonder if they'd make it to the UK, but there was no way. My odometer was approaching the 75 miles mark as I pulled in to Château-Gontier, so I searched for local bike shops and picked one nearby. I didn't hold out much hope, but Espace Cycles 53 came up trumps, I bought two pairs and sat outside the shop in the sun and fitted them. I even oiled the chain. After that was done it was time to look for somewhere to stay, to have a shower and wash of the grit and grime.

A bit of quick arithmetic says I'm 145 miles from the port and I have two days to do it in, so I should be fine. I just hope it doesn't rain too much!

#abitofabikeride 

Amicii Dog Rescue and Rehabilitation UK 

Amicii Dog Rescue Romania 

https://justgiving.com/campaign/a-bit-of-a-bike-ride