Carl’s Poppy Pootle mk2 day 5 Richmond to Osmotherly

Back on the right track today, shame it’s all on the road but at least its flat and short, about 25 miles to do. Flat apart from those bloody short sharp hills out of Richmond, so today starts with a push.

We’re soon on the level and zipping along in glorious sunshine.
This is turning into the best and easiest day far, flat hills, beautiful countryside and hot sunshine but with the Yorkshire moors looming in the distance, we’ll worry about that tomorrow. Things are going that well and I’m feeling good I think it’s time for a song! Well more of a laa dee daa dada.

On the right track

Hmmm, enough of the yelling there’s people about and its time for lunch, looking at the map theres a couple of miles to the next village. But that’s a couple of miles up hill, probably the only hill of the day. Time for another push.

The heat is getting to be a bit of problem, arms are starting to burn and there’s far too much sweat coming out of me, I need to find some shade and rehydrate (no pleasing some people, a couple of days ago I was moaning about the rain).

Finding the next village and a pub was no problem, it was finding some shade was an issue though because the sun is high, so I’m squeezed into a corner looking like a vampire.

According to the pub sign, I got 60 miles to go to get to the coast but it’ll probably end up being more. But sat here with half a pint, half a coke and a glass of water I don’t care how far it is, I’m happy.

Rolling along on the flat again for a few miles, happily tootling and singing even when we start to climb onto the moors and you know what they say about the moors…

https://www.strava.com/activities/364695182

A weekend in The Hope Valley training (15/5/2015)

The plan for this weekend is a simple one, a weekend camping, a bit of xc on Saturday and hill training ride home on Sunday with the usual couple of pints along the way…

Friday 15th, get the Old Girl loaded with all my kit for the weekend and get the train out to Hope and meet a friend in Sheffield for a few drinks at night.

Adventure machine!

Tents up, off into Sheffield now. See you tomorrow for The Hope Valley Watershed ride.

Saturday. 5am-ish. My head hurts. In fact it feels like Thor is in there bashing Mjollnir about. No worries, I’ll sleep in off and be fine in a couple of hours, simple. But then the dawn chorus kicks off, bury head deeper inside sleeping bag, sorted. Just dozing off again then the sheep are at it! I must be breakfast time for them but I can’t help but think about them being dinner time for me! People are starting to wake up as well so there’s no chance for any more sleep now.

After lying in my tent for 2 hours feeling as rough as badgers bum, I’ve talked myself out of doing the ride that I’d planned for today going on the theory if I knacker myself out today on the short-ish ride today I’ll be in even a worse state tomorrow on the bigger ride home. Decision made. Ride home today if I’m up to it but first the “wonderful” Hardhurst Farm full breakfast.

Struggling to get my tent away due to the wind and struggling to find the motivation and energy to get going but meh…lets sit down for a bit.

Eventually after much faffing we’re away for about 10.30 and time for another decision. Left or right? Left to Tideswell, Monsal trail and the A6 or right through Castleton up Cave dale onto the Pennine bridle way,, high peak trail then the A6. Xizang chuckles at the thought of going right, the state you’re in, you’ve got no chance matey. Shut up wench, we’re going left anyway.

3 miles in and I’m a wreck, legs aching, sweat leaking from every pore and thinking about turning around and getting the train home. Time for a walk. “Lightweight” “shut it”.

Bike packing = pushing your bike and kit over hills… as I’m pushing her up hill a roadie comes past and asks if I’m ok. Yes mate, just a tad unfit. Top of the hill and thinking its down hill all the way into Tideswell but no, I can see 2 more bumps in front of us with another one a bit further on… more walking. Now its down hill and flat into Tideswell.

Time for a rest in Tideswell, can of coke sat outside The Cathedral of the Peaks. While having the drink a group of Lycra cad roadies pull up and soon they’re bobbing off about how far they’ve been today and bragging about other conquests on their skinny bikes. Quite a rowdy bunch and too noisy for me and a little village like this so I’m soon on my way again.

Out of Tideswell for 2 miles to Millers Dale on a slight downhill then suddenly the road drops a way to a very steep incline, Strava tells me I hit 35mph down here but Garmin Connect says 25 plus if I was going 35 I’d be screaming with my eyes shut!

Bottom of the hill and onto the Monsal trail, an old railway line that runs Bakewell to Buxton. At the car park for the Monsal Trail there’s an old station that now serves as an information centre with a little cafe trailer thingy, there’s a few people milling about, families, other cyclists and group of women swigging on bottles of Budweiser which reminds me I’ve been carrying 2 can of BrewDog Punk on my back all morning, so bottoms up!

Hangover cured and we’re away again onto the trail and finally got the wind behind us, this is more like it! The trail is on a slight down hill all the way along to Bakewell so we’re soon going at a fair lick but soon we come to the first of 3 long tunnels and have to dig the lights out

All the way through these tunnels I’m giving out the usual shout of “cyclist behind” because there’s people all over the place and even though you can’t really tell on the photos its very dark.

Soon we’re getting close to Bakewell and thoughts turn to the A6 (yawn). There is bridleways that run along the side of the road through Rowsley and Chatsworth but I’ve got nothing planned and my legs are starting to twinge a bit, but first things first, a couple of pints and people watching in Bakewell at the Red Lion. Bakewell is a lovely place but on a sunny Saturday lunch time its full of tourists so I tuck myself into the corner of the beer garden and keep myself to myself listening to people swap stories about Chatsworth and Bakewell tart (its a pudding!!).

Back on the road again and nothing interesting happens apart from motorbikes flying up and down going to and from Matlock Bath. Does the speed limit apply to these people? They always seem to be in such a rush to get into Matlock Bath and by a coke and bag of chips and look at their bikes.

In Matlock (Matlock Bath is a different place) we stop and seriously think about getting the train back to Derby, this starts a bit of an argument between me and Xizang…Me; I’m knackered. Xizang; we’ve got to get the miles in, we’re training remember?! Me; hmmm but… Xizang; shut the fuck up and ride me! Argument over.

Rolling again though Matlock Bath, past all the chip eating motorbikers and into the village of Cromford. There’s a lot of history here with Arkwrights mill being the first water powered mill in the world (or something like that) but I know its a world heritage site. Anyway I need to get off the road before boredom kills me. Turning off the main road we go up to the Cromford canal which flows from here down to Ambergate and the river Amber. Its disused now but it used to serve the mills, but for me its time for another can of Punk 🙂 Sat on a bench I get talking to an old-ish couple about our adventures, they had seen the bags on Xizang. They were asking about where I’d been and was going I get to telling them about the big ride that’s coming up in August and they told me I should wild camp, it seemed strange hearing about wild camping from a couple in their 70’s but I’m inspired and its something that I’ve always wanted to do anyway.

Its a lovely ride along the canal from here, mallards and coot splashing and dipping on the water and the sound of the wind in the trees, its almost tranquil if it wasn’t for the noise from the A6 right next to it but all too soon we’re in Ambergate and back on the A6 which takes us all the way into Derby, through Belper (no hand signals, they’ll have your watch) Duffield and Allestree.

In town we stop at The Derby Tap, bad manners not to and have a couple of pints of Brooklyn but the ride and previous beers are starting to catch up with me and I’m nodding off in the garden and its starting to fill up with Saturday night drinkers, “Come on girl, time to go home”.

https://www.strava.com/activities/305785135

Sunday 24th August

We plotted routes last night from the bible and uploaded them to the GPS for the Middleton and Grangemills circuits on and around the High Peak Trail near Cromford and Matlock Bath. So its going to be the 9.55 train to Matlock Bath then play time.


The bible

We’re up at 6am because I need to put the knobblys on and tweak Xizang’s brakes because they keep seizing up (I think its an age thing but don’t tell her that). I should of done this last night but Doctor Who was back on TV.

After getting up so early I’m quickly losing enthusiasm to go out, so much so I end up sitting around until about 9am before I actually did anything to Xizang, so thats the 9.55 train missed and I can’t be bothered to sit around and wait for the next one 2n hours later.

New plan needed. Sod the plan…come on girl, lets ride!

Heading for  town, and the only place I can think of doing is an old loop around Little Eaton and Holbrook with only one short bit of dirt, we’re in the mood for getting mucky off road. And then a light bulb moment! Chevin. I’ve not been up there for years and never on a bike, its always been on foot. Its a plan.

Its easy to get through Derby city centre by bike as Sustrans route 6 runs straight along the river around the edge of town. Going along the back of the Silk Mill museum, we get stuck behind 2 blokes on bikes going really really slow, I’m not the fastest of riders but these 2 are holding up traffic! The path is narrow round here with the river on one side and walls on the other so there’s no room to overtake until we get to Darley Park. Its not far but stuck behind these 2 it seems like miles. We’re getting bored, but we’re soon passed and away, up the A38 to Little Eaton the usual way on Duffield Road, but instead of turning of up Station Road towards Coxbench we carry on up Eaton Bank. I now see why I alway ride down here, its a bit of a slog but we make it up (we must have got fit in the past 500ish miles we’ve done over the past few weeks).

Coming up to the top of Duffield Bank there’s an orange sign, the kind that advertises Sunday car boot sales, what a way to spend a Sunday buying other peoples shit. But this sign is giving me something to focus on while we’re hoofing it up this hill, reading the sign as we get closer it turns out its not a car boot, its a beer festival! Bonus! Its at The Bell and Harp which could be on the last leg of todays ride if all goes well.

Save that for later, I want to get some riding in first and its going to be hard enough to get past the Holly Bush, but we’re on the main road that’ll take us below the pub, we’ll come back later.

Bugger…20 yards past the sign for the Bell and Harp beer fest…

We’re not stopping, we’re not stopping…but someone has other ideas and starts pulling over to the narrow lane up t’bush and I suppose it would be bad manners not to. Pint of Endless Summer please. I love this pub its one of my favourites in Derbyshire, I could sit here all day listening to the banter and chit chat of the locals but we’ve got to move, we’ve not come out on a pub crawl, we’re out to ride.

A quick scoot down the road and we’re on the A6, over the Derwent and up Chevin Road, its a bumpy up and down ride up here but pretty much a straight line. Even though its all local we’re going off the reservation a bit so I’m not ready for these hills, they’re a tad steep and sharp!

This bugger is hard work. After about 2 miles I’m ready to get off and push Xizang the rest of the way but the road levelled out at Belper Lane End and the Bulls Head. This isn’t a pub crawl. This isn’t a pub crawl. Pint anyone?

The last time I was in here I was in my early 20’s and it was a fantastic pub so why am I pour a foul tasting pint away?  Lets go.

Turns out the pub is on a false ridge and the hill carries on up for another mile or 2. Now its time to ride, time to explore because we’re on unfamiliar ground up here. Now its time to pick a path and follow it, just go with the flow and ride!

I have a Satmap GPS on the bars and its fantastic for this kind of thing. With its built in 1:50 map and the 1:25 Derbyshire SD card you just find a path and go for it without messing about with paper maps.

Path found. This is totally brand new to both of us, so we’re tip toeing along a what could be some sweet singletrack if I knew what I was doing.

We’re getting the hang of this track and the sand thats all the way down when all of a sudden, rocks! Bugger! Wasn’t ready for this! Bounce, Boing, Wobble…ooops moment.

Its soon over and we’re back on a tarmac downhill road to what looks like a major road crossing at the bottom…I hope I’ve done the brakes right or we’re toast! Zooming downhill and checking the GPS while braking is tricky but the road is clear which is lucky so a fast right turn then another sharp left turn and a river…soggy gusset time.

The ford brought us to pretty much a complete stand still which didn’t help because there’s a steep sharp uphill, so its a walk up through the gate until its flat again. So sweeping long country lanes and there’s a pub! A new one I’ve never been to which is a rare event around these parts. Bad manners not to. Pint of Peroni here and a seat in the garden. I’m feeling a bit underdressed. I’m not wearing a shirt and tie, or trousers for that matter. Sat there with my pint trying to hide from the upper class a bunch of lads ride up on their flash full sussers. The Old Girl gets the nods of admiration with comments of proper old school.  When they were leaving I said to them, don’t wait for me there’s no way I’m going to catch you up. I let them go and finished my pint and about 10 minutes later we were going the same way. I caught them up! I was flying past them going up Chevin hill! I was even talking to them as I went past! I waited at the top for them to pass me cos I’m not the best at downhill and I did it again! I love my old girl, she knows how to put these young whipper snappers into place. Grins all round!

Thats the Chevin loop done, time for The Bell and Harp beer fest. But its crap, no is there and it looks like they’re sold of beer because they just have their usual drinks on so its a quick half and back to The Hollybush via Dark Lane, no photos here because its a fantastic short twisty downhill that comes straight out pretty much in the pub car park which is a bonus! 

Another pint of Oakhams Endless Summer and I get chatting to a bloke on an electric bike, which he just got today. He says its fantastic, top speed of 16mph and it will be great for commuting. We have good long conversation about bikes, he wants to eventually upgrade to a mountain bike as he gets better, so I recommend a Specialized Hardrock because thats what I started on. We’re talking that much its time for another pint, but all too soon I’m starting to waffle and wobble so its time. Come on girl. lets go home.

http://app.strava.com/activities/184824120

Carl’s Poppy Pootle Day 8

Awake early again, so more sneaking around the house as not to wake the baby.

Outside its freezing, the wind is blowing a good un. With nothing to do for a bit I take a walk into the village, the only place thats open is the paper shop, so with a bottle of orange I sit by the canal for half hour waiting for the Co-Op to open so I grab some breakfast.

Come on girl…time to go home.

Only 25 miles to get home, through Loughborough, open track to Shepshed, couple of miles of country lanes and on to the the cloud trail straight home…dead easy!!

2 miles back through Quorn and we are in Loughborough. It’s pretty much a direct line through here but the sign post for Shepshed are conflicting, 2 right next to each other pointing the opposite way but we decided to stick to the planned route and carry on through. 

Soon we’re around the houses and onto the track to Shepshed. I’m looking for a left turn of the track. The only turn.

Slowing down to give a woman and her dog a wide berth. Unfortunately I make her and the dog jump which makes me jump, and I miss the turning but I don’t realise for about half a mile so about turn back up the hill. On the way up I see the woman and her dog, I mention that she made me go the wrong way, after a brief chat and giggle we’re back on the right path into Shepshed.

Through Shepshed back onto the open roads, looking for another left turn, but this time instead of missing it there’s a diversion in place, the detours takes me about 3 miles out the way before we’re back on the right road again through Belton and Osgathorpe until we’re on the edge of Breedon and on the Cloud trail with the first signpost for Derby and home.

Big grins all round!! We’re on the home straight!! Pub time. Off the track and into Wilson and the Bulls Head. I ain’t been here for years, it used to be a cracking little pub. Its shut! Not open until 5pm! Bugger that I’m off to the Bluebell in Melbourne. A cracking pint of Shardlow Goldeneye later we’re away with arrangements to meet a friend at the Lawns in Chellaston. Back on the Cloud and down to the Trent and Mersey canal. Time for the last “Life Behind Bars” photo.

Off the canal onto Swarkestone road that runs straight into Chellaston, sat waiting at a junction waiting for the traffic to clear, there’s a pink four wheeled thing coming down the road indicating to turn left so I pull out to cross the road. But this bint carries on straight!! She stops and starts ranting and raving at me as if its my fault! That is until I calmly point at her car and the indicator flashing. Without a word or an apology she gets back in her car and buggers off! 400 miles without a hitch and then as soon as I’m just near home someone nearly wipes me out!! Welcome to Derby and careful driving.

Time for the last drinks of The Pootle at the Lawns with my mate Claire who works there. Cue remarks like you mad sod, you must be crazy and so on, along with laughs and giggles. After a couple of drinks we’re onto the last 5 miles. I need to pick up the key from Martins place.

With less than a mile to go, I start to feel a bit emotional with a sense of achievement and maybe a little relief that we’re about done.

All of a sudden we’re home! Job done! 405 miles in 8 days. 45 miles in the saddle. Numerous wrong turnings and mishaps but its been worth it to raise money for The Royal British Legion and I’m immensely proud of myself or the Old Girl.

All I can say now is thank you to everyone who made a donation, supported me, encouraged me and put up with me along the ride. I’m eternally grateful and I love you all. 

http://app.strava.com/activities/178733199

Carl’s Poppy Pootle Day 7

Heading for Barrow upon Soar today and my old mate, Nigel’s house or rather his back garden in my tent.

I’m awake about 6 but breakfast isn’t until 9, they let the cook have a lie in on a Sunday. Time for a walking into Market Harborough thats a mile or so down the road. Oooh the skies a bit black today. I’m getting bored walking down this road so I hoof it back to the pub just in time before the clouds open and it hammers down.

Breakfast finally done, we’re away in full waterproofs into Market Harborough, the noise of the rain on my is almost deafening but the sound of church bells ringing is rather soothing. Soon we’re going through some back streets and a big park then back onto the Grand Union Canal into a wharf area…hmmmm this shouldn’t be here. Time to get re-navigated. We get sorted and take the easy clean option and take the road to Foxton Locks.

By the time we get there its stopped raining and my waterproof trousers and getting sticky and clammy against my legs, which is a tad uncomfortable. So they come off, right in front of a boat load of old ladies. Best view they’ve had all day.

After a coffee we’re up the locks back to the road. The locks are impressive, about 6 right on top of each other.

Turning turning back on to the road, the wind gets up and the heavens open…a lot. 

We’re in open countryside so there’s no shelter from the weather and soon have soggy feet and wet pants. After the heat of down south its quite refreshing but then it starts running into my eyes and along with sweat, its not a good mix and soon I can hardly see. I need to get out of this rain because it’s not safe, I’m riding blind so I dive in the Queens Head at Saddington to shelter for a bit.

I get talking to a man and woman in there about the ride and having a laugh, when I notice water all over the window ledge from my bike helmet and gloves, I ask the barmaid for a cloth because I’ve made a puddle and she automatically looks between my legs!! Not that kind of puddle!!

Its still hacking it down outside so I get another pint as a birthday party comes in and they start chatting as well, I love village life. Through all these chats and talks, I received a lot of donations and I’m eternally grateful.

As much as I want to stay here I need to push on even though its still raining and I need to get through Leicester town centre.
On the edge of town I spot a cracking pub I’ve been in before for a pint and its stopped raining and the sun is coming out. Things are looking up.

Even Leicester is good to me, straight line ride directly through the middle of town, then its on to the river Soar, we come across a puddle that goes on for quite a distance, deciding to go through it because we’re wet already, that is until this puddle turns into the river and we come to a sudden stop. Unable to turn the pedals I get off and walk. I’m knee deep in water with no choice to press on. I’m hoping Nigel takes pity on me and offers me his sofa instead of putting my tent up in his garden.

After having a dip and scoot around a housing estate, we’re on the A6, we could follow this road all the way to the end of my street which is only about 30 miles away so its doable, but I’m cold, wet and shattered.

Through Mount Sorrel and into Quorn, checking for the GPS to line us up with the turning for Barrow, when I spot a cycling sign post for it before we got to the right place on the map. Around more houses, a long road and over the A6 we’re in Barrow. Nigel told me to give him a call from one of two pubs in the village, I spot the first one straight away but there’s a big Everards sign outside and I’ve had enough of that, its not my favourite brewery, so we pedal on up the hill to the other one he mentioned, get a pint in and give him a call. Wrong number?!? In fact the number doesn’t exist! Shit. Now what? Head scratching time. I know. Phone Andy. He’s a good mate of Nigel’s, he’ll have the right number. Nah mate, not spoke to him for years apart from on Facebook. Bugger. More thinking. Ahhhh Facebook! Send him a message on there. Sorted. Within minutes he’s on the phone saying sorry for getting one digit wrong in the number he gave me. Anyway, alls forgiven. But typically he lives closer to the first pub I passed so its back down the hill to meet him there.

I’m there before him so I get a drink in, as I’m sitting back down he’s coming across the road with a grin, after shaking hands, insults about phone numbers and swapping life stories, we’ve not seen each other for the best part of 20 years, he drops a bombshell…instead of putting my tent up do I want to sleep in his spare room? Bingo!!

After putting Xizang to bed and having a shower, I got up into the village on my own for food and drink with strict instructions to be as quiet as I can when I come back because Nigel and his wife have a new born baby.

After a couple of pints and a pizza and another pint, I’m starting to feel the days rain and splash in the flooded river and I’m nodding off in the pub so its time to head back, tip toeing around trying not to wake anyone especially the baby.

I get into bed about 10.30 and drift off with thoughts of being home tomorrow and sleeping in my own bed.

http://app.strava.com/activities/178461665

Carl’s Poppy Pootle Day 6

A door bangs somewhere in the hotel. Whoa! Where am I? What time is it? 7am? A lie in, but still a hour before breakfast so time for a wander around and check the route out of town.

After breakfast and repacking its time to go. We’re about 10 miles from Milton Keynes, which I’m not looking forward to because its a hell hole. Grey and drab with dead straight roads, we’ve got lost round here too many times, but at the moment we’re happily scooting along a bridleway in the middle of nowhere and its great.

Unfortunately we’re there all too soon, and things are going unusually well. Outside the train station, we stop at a shop for a drink and some sweeties. There’s a man and woman arguing. Welcome to Milton Keynes. Standing outside the shop with my back to the domestic, suddenly there’s a bang and a scream. Spinning round the woman is rolling to the floor, it appears as the man she was rowing with has ran her over! No time to think about that, someone needs help. Ambulance and police turn up so I have to give a statement, I won’t go into details but I’m delayed for about a hour.

Back onto the streets of Milton Keynes, if you don’t know this place its built on a grid system with a cycle path on every road which is great if you live there, but when you’re looking for one its a pain in the arse. Deciding to walk to play it safe until we get through the main shopping area, we’re soon on top of a vantage point looking over the fields of Buckinghamshire and Northamptonshire A quick drop down the side of the hill and we’re in parkland the pretty much surrounds Milton Keynes town centre and there’s some kind of fair on. A big one so its safer to walk because there’s people all over the place, all the time looking for NCN signs because a few national routes split from here but there’s posters up for the fair covering the signposts and we’re soon at a lakeside which I’ve can’t remember from times before. Time to check the map and the GPS and we’re about 4 miles off course. Are you beginning to understand why I hate this place?

About turn back through the park, head for the canal and up a bloody long road and we’re back on the right track. In fact I’ve never seen this part of the route before, it must be a new bit or I actually am on the right path for the first time ever and soon heading for Hanslope and another pub I’ve been in before. Time for the 300 mile pint!! We’ve got no time to celebrate because I’m recognised again. It’s a hard life being a celebrity. The usual questions are asked, “who you doing the ride for?” “Where you heading”? Where you rode from?” blah blah blah…

Back on the open roads, we’re soon skirting the outskirts of Northampton and into the town centre. So more shoppers and wrong turns, especially around the suburbs. Some bloke in a car pulls up next to me and asks for directions. Does it look like I know where I am never mind where I’m going?!?

Finding a track that I think is in the general direction of the way I think we should be going, but I still check the map just in case and bingo! We’re away on the Brampton Valley Way, a disused railway line that runs straight into Market Harborough. Another look at the map, checking distance and time because its starting to get late and we’re getting tired. Decision made on Great Oxendon and a pub there for the night, a couple of miles short of Market Harborough.

Checking the map on how to get up to the pub from the track I see there’s only footpaths and the guide says its inaccessible to bikes, so I go along the road, up a big long hill. Its starting to rain, heavy. This is the last thing I need especially at the end of the day with tired legs and this road seems to be going on forever.

Looking like a drowned rat I check in at the George definitely ready for a shower, beer and food.
345 miles in and I’m on the home straight, with one more overnight stop to do.

Early night tonight for both of us.

http://app.strava.com/activities/177915799

Carl’s Poppy Pootle Day 5

Awake at daft o’clock again, about 5ish, with nothing to do I go for a wander round Wallingford. There’s a lot of signs and posters about historical events and figures, something about Dick Turpin and Henry 8th.
There’s a market setting up in the town square, I hope I can get out of here before this kicks in.

There’s a Waitrose and a Costa, But they’re not open yet so I go back to the room to look at the maps and see where I’m heading. Going to try to get to Milton Keynes, which isn’t going to be nice. I hate the place. We’ll be going up through Didcot, Oxford and Bicester so its going to busy.

Breakfast time and nearly all my moaning about the cost of the room is gone because they have Marmite! I’m a lover not a hater and a few packets go in my pocket but don’t tell anyone…

 Heading out of Wallingford for a few miles through a another small village, we hit a short sharp climb that I hit in the wrong gear. Time to walk, its only about 50 metres but its a killer. Pushing Xizang up with my head down, I glance up to see if we’re nearly at the top and there’s a sign at the side of the road. Its as if someone is watching over me or one of my friends has been around here ahead of me and it gives me hope.

Its a proper confidence booster, at the top of the hill I can see for miles over what seems like the whole of Oxfordshire, over Didcot, Abington and Oxford. Plain sailing all the way. Well thats the theory anyway.

Through another village and a can of coke at local shop, we turn onto a bridleway for a couple more miles and we’re in Didcot. Round the back streets along the main road and we’re back on a bridle path around the edge of a power station the back on the Thames and straight through Abington. These country lanes heading for Oxford remind me of my training route around Ashbourne, so we’re happily pootling along daydreaming that we’re at home which is emphasised by nearly going head on into a milk tanker! 

In the centre of Oxford its packed out with tourists and street stalls, so its safer to walk. Grumbling through the crowds and the back streets and through Kidlington.

Going along a road in Kidlington a side street catches my eye…it’s a claim to fame!

Riding along thinking about Bicester and the problems I’ve had there before with getting lost, I soon realise I’m through and out the other side. My navigational skills must be getting better because it was a case of blink and you’ll miss it.

Since leaving Oxford things are rather familiar because I’ve rode around here before, once on Xizang and once on Old Roxy. Coming through a village about 15 miles from Milton Keynes I spot a pub I’ve been in before so it would be bad manners not to stop. While I’m sat there with a bottle of Corona, I decide I’m not going as far as Milton Keynes simply because I don’t fancy it with Friday night drinkers. With another bottle a bloke comes out and sits staring at me, “Do I know you?”  “Yes mate, I’ve been in here a couple of times but not for a couple of years”  “Ah yes, you were doing some daft long distance bike ride wasn’t you, but we all got you drunk in here”  “Yep, thats the one, but not this time”

At the bar I ask if there’s anywhere about that I can stop the night, they point in the direction of the Bell in Winslow thats about 6-7 miles up the road. A quick call to check if they’ve got a room and we’re on our way.

We’re soon in Winslow, it looks like Bakewell. 

Once checked in, a quick pint and shower in the best room I’ve been in so far this week, it back in to the bar for some food. Before eating I decide to go and explore but its hacking it down!! Within half an hour of checking in, its changed from brilliant sunshine to heavy rain. Bugger that, I’m stopping here.

After food and a couple more pints, its bed time. It’s still light outside, but I’m shattered, the miles are catching up with me, so its a early one today.

http://app.strava.com/activities/177364597 

Carl’s Poppy Pootle Day 4

Awake and feeling fresh after a good 8 hours sleep and a full breakfast, we’re moving again over Windsor park with ideas of making Oxford, feeling a bit more confident today after previous mishaps.

Its not as hot today which is a good thing because the heat has slowed us down over the past couple of day but its still ice cream time when we get into Windsor and back on the Thames.

A quick fight through the photo happy tourists and we’re back in open countryside heading for Maidenhead.
A couple of wrong turnings followed (nearly ended up on the M4) and we’re in Reading, which as strange as it sounds is a real confidence booster because we’ve rode here before a few years back when we did the Bristol to Derby ride.

Just before Reading i check the mileage we’ve covered so far, and we’ve done just over 200 miles!! Around half way! It’s been a hard slog so far with heat, getting lost and batteries going on the second day, so me and Xizang give each other a look that just says “Pub”.

 Its only a bottle of Corona in a estate pub, but we don’t care. We’ve earned it!

Once through Reading its back in the open space of Berkshire and Oxfordshire.
Just outside Reading town centre we’re going through some woods up a very steep hill with very loose terrain. Its a good walk up it. And this kind of track makes you question the Sustrans route designer because in most parts its unrideable going up. I wouldn’t like to be out on a family ride on here going up or down.
After much moaning, ushing and grumbling we get to the top and we’re treated to a cracking view over the Oxfordshire countryside.

Speeding down a hill into Stoke Row we pass a couple of a weird looking tandem thing, it looks like a Apache helicopter cockpit with the gunner sat behind and slightly above the pilot….hmmmm, I’ll leave you to it.

In Stoke Row there’s signposts for The Chilterns Cycleway, so its time for a action shot of the old girl looking mean and dirty trying to pretend we’ve just done the Chilterns. But in reality, we’re both getting knackered and thoughts are turning towards food, beer and bed.

 It’s about 20 miles to Oxford from Stoke Row, I don’t think we’re going to make it today. We decide on Wallingford which is about 8 miles down hill. 

Straight into the centre of Wallingford and the first pub we see is a Hungry Horse, not looking promising but we go in anyway and ask the question if they know of any B&Bs or campsites. A few calls round and things are looking bad, everywhere is full until the last one…£105 for the night!! Desperate times require desperate measures so we book in. Its nothing special just a olde worlde pub that looks Tudorish and an expensive menu. Take away pizza anyone?

In the room its a typical pub trying to look like a hotel but at the price I decide to use everything, even the hair dryer!

With all the lights and tv on to get my moneys worth, its time for bed.

http://app.strava.com/activities/176952395

Sunday 27th July

7am.

I managed to get up on time this week, but I’m not sure what time Crusty Carl said we were going out. I send him a text saying that I’m up and he comes back with “Be ready for 8” piss off “Make it 9”.

We’re doing the ride we planned for last week and its my last training session before me and Xizang set off on our epic ride for The Legion http://www.bmycharity.com/carlspoppypootle https://www.facebook.com/carlspoppypootle?ref_type=bookmark

I need to go the distance carrying a full weeks worth of kit and see how it handles on hills, so we’re off up round Ashbourne and Carsington. So a good 60 miles should be done today, nice day for it as well and I’ll try and stay out of the pubs this week.

8.22am

Text from Crusty Carl. He ain’t coming out, he can’t be arsed (isn’t that a surprise?). Its a good job I don’t mind riding on my own and I don’t depend on him or I’d never go out. So just me and the old girl today…again.

After rushing about like a headless chicken just to be let down, I’m slowing down a bit but still want to get out before opening time so they don’t jump out in front of us. 10ish start then.

10.34am

Away after some fine tuning of the Alpkit stuff, quick zip around the houses and onto the old Derby canal towards Swarkestone, still mumbling and grumbling to myself about Crusty Carl (it must be bath day) and onto the long drags towards Willington and Etwall I’ve told you about this before so I won’t bore you with the details apart from its windy, very windy on those long straight roads, its a bit hard going until we get through Etwall and onto twisting country lanes beyond.

Sheltered from the wind by the high hedgerows and trees we’re flying along then we see a big pile of horse poo thats just screaming to be ridden through, its good for the complexion, until it moves! It flaps! It squarks! Its a chicken!! Engage evasive action now!! The chicken had other ideas though and decides to run in front of my front wheel! Why can’t these things fly? They have wings don’t they? Finally it sees sense and runs off into a hedgerow. Phew, that was a close one.

Trundling through Longford still with thoughts of Carl being a let down, its also the last day of The Bore de France, he’s such a roadie. And thoughts of the close call of the Milk Tanker I nearly face planted the other week on the single track lane out of the village when another one looms out ahead of me!! I’ve got a bit more notice this time to get out of the way but I can’t help but think “Infamy! Infamy! They’ve all got it in for me!!

12.33pm
The Shire Horse at Wyaston.
The good looking bar maids working again today, and she’s quite chatty asking about how far I’ve been and if I’m doing anything for The Legion because I’ve got thier bike jersey on today again. I really should come here when I’m not a sweaty mess but its busy in the pub today so I leave her to it and take my bottle of Peroni outside.
Outside I’m happily chatting away to my 2 biking buddies about the bar maid, the weather and where we’re going. After about 10 minutes gossip I realise I’m talking to the 2 Lego Star Wars key rings hanging from my Camelbak. Time to move on…

On the edge of Ashbourne, I’m at the low bridge under the A52 with the steep descent and even steep climb out, that I’ve never made it up but this time I’m feeling confident, I can do it, I can do it! I did it!! A big YAY from me and a pat on the back for Xizang “well done done girl, I knew you wouldn’t let me down”

Riding through Ashbourne my mind starts to stray towards lunch, so we dive into the love tunnel at the start of the Tissington Trail.

We stop at the bike hire and cafe shed and tuck into a cheese ploughmans sandwich and a can of coke. Frame this picture!

Its really busy here today, the sun has brought out all the families, so there’s plenty of trailers and ill fitting helmets about. A family come to a halt in front of me discussing going to the stepping stones at Dovedale and how far it is. I had to interrupt and tell them its 10 miles back the way had just come. “We’ll drive then”.

3 miles up the trail to Tissington and its time for a ice cream…smarties and ice cream!! Bonus!! Until I drop it trying to get the smarties out.

Sulking we come of the trail onto Bent Lane and long twisty paved downhill with 3 or 4 cattle grids and a ford at the bottom.

Because neither of us are used to cattle grids with all the added weight we decide to take it easy and pause to get our wits together, looking around, taking in the scenery I fall in love with Derbyshire all over again, I’ve seen this view many times but I can never get bored of it.

Come on girl, lets do it and straight away we’re flying! Rattling and bouncing over the 4 cattle grids then suddenly the road drops, feels like its pretty much vertical! I hope the brakes are up to this plus there’s 2 Range Rovers coming up!! Bugger bugger bugger!! Stop stop stop!! Please? We managed to slow down enough and get off the road to let them pass but it was a scary moment there for a second so a minute or 2 is needed to slow my heart down and get my breath back. Rolling again, it seems steeper this time, teasing the back brake but still going like the clappers, must be doing +30mph and then theres a ford in full flow. Water? Bridge? Water? We bottle out because of the extra weight we’re carrying and go for the bridge, plus theres a gate on the bridge so a chance for a rest but someone decides to hold it open for me…some people have no consideration.

Pass the ford and onto probably the shortest piece of cycle path in Derbyshire for all of about 2 metres, across the Wirksworth road and onto some sweet singletrack, time to play and test out the Alpkit bags offroad. Through the gate, up a bit and its flies stuck to teeth time.

Zipping along grinning away, the Alpkit bags are fantastic! I can’t even feel them on Xizang, the balance is spot on. You’re reading this and thinking of doing a long distance ride you need to get the Alpkit Koala saddlebag, the Kanga harness plus a dry bag to attach to the Kanga, you won’t go wrong. They’re perfect.
There’s a bloke coming towards me on a bike, its a old day glo Klein thats about as old as Xizang. We give each other a nod and a grin that says, “the old ones are the best” and we squeeze past each other which involves me brushing a nettle bush, thats gonna sting a tad. But its all over too soon and we’re back on tarmac.

Up a steep hill towards Bradbourne there’s a roadie in front of me wobbling all over the road, “I’m having you. I don’t want to be looking at your Lycra clad backside” Through Bradbourne and up a very steep hill thats a nice walk. Up to the top and its flat with a few bumpy bits towards Carsington Water, there’s a few black patches on the road that looks like a motorbike or something has been burnt out, then I realise its proper fresh tarmac from filled in potholes. You can tell the difference between Derby County Council and Derby City Council who would of just left a few bits of gravel over it in the hope that traffic will bed it in.
We go along like this for a couple of miles until we hit a another main road into Wirksworth but first there’s the Knockerdown more commonly known as Knickers Down.

1449pm.
The Knockerdown.
Newcastle Brown.
I have no idea why this pub is called The Knockerdown but its great pub with fantastic views over the dales. Its packed out today with Sunday diners. I take up a bench next to the ornamental pond in the garden.
I sit there with my bottle of dog, making notes for the blog when a bloke in his 50s with his trophy wife/daughter on the next bench asks me to move because I’m smoking (I know, filthy habit).”Errrrm…No! The non-smoking room is inside!” Take that do-gooder!
Taking in the panoramic views of the Peak District I spot the play area, and the sign that says “You’ve got to be shorter than this sign to play here” Sulking with thoughts of putting the sign on stilts for a bit of a play I realise I might get noticed…bloody do-gooders again!

Back on the road, the way we came for a couple of hundred yards and the road down to Carsington, after a while the cycle path comes up on the left and a bit more dusty singletrack fun down to the carpark, on the way down there’s 2 old ladies in off road mobility scooters shredding it, it just goes to show that you’re never too old.
Through the carpark and back onto the path that runs around the reservoir, on days like these its a tourist trap for cyclists and walkers, so there’s plenty of cyclist behind calls. Its a great track round here plenty of twisty bits, up and downhill and views over the res…fun for all the family.

Out onto a road which is pretty much downhill to a junction and a bridge with the High Peak Trail running over the top, there’s a gate to a path leading up to the trail, a nice steady pootle to a sign post for the Rising Sun in Middleton.

1614pm
The Rising Sun.
Middleton.
Whenever I’m in this area I always stop off here, its lovely friendly village pub. Pint of Blue Monkey’s BG Sips for me, a nice crisp pale ale.
Sat outside in the shade protecting my natural solar panel after being out in the sun all day I started uploading some photos to Instagram and Facebook that I didn’t have chance to earlier due to lack of signal.
There’s a few scooters zipping up and down the hill at the end of road, scooters of the Vespa/Lambretta type with high pitched engines disturbing the peace and what appears to be go-carts with engines, strangely shaped bits of fibreglass wrapped around a person, spluttering up the hill.
I seem to have my tourist info sign on today because another couple ask me for directions, this time for the High Peak Trail. Up the hill, under the bridge and immediate left up the path.
Pint finished and we’re going the same way.

Onto the trail again and soon its time to stop for the customary life behind bars photo and one of Middleton Top pump house that used to pull the trains up from the High Peak Junction down at the canal, its a bit steep from down there.

 It’s another nice walk down from here (remember my fear of downhill). Time to decide whether to walk all the way down the couple of miles to the canal or turn off down Intake Lane to the centre of Cromford. Intake Lane is rideable but fast, very fast but a lot smoother and safer than riding down the trail. Engage Hyperdrive! After a short down bit of XC its on to tarmac and Mach 10! In what seems like seconds we’re down on the A6 and in Cromford. Scoot right at the lights around Arkwright’s Mill and onto the Cromford canal. It’s busy down here with dog walkers, the worse kind of dog walkers who let the animals run loose, there’s dogs of all sizes running all over the place, nearly taking me off into the canal, lots of shouting and swearing followed along the lines of “Get that animal on a lead!” “Read the country code” “Keep them under control!”
It soon clears up after a couple of miles and no ones around, just me and the old girl until we reach the tunnel through a hill, thats very low, narrow and dark. The walk way is just a bit wider then the handle bars and the arch of the tunnel is only just above head height so we get off and walk through.

Back in daylight, we’re soon batting along at speed when I need to wee, quick glance round to make sure there’s no one about and do what I need to do and avoid the nettles.
A couple of arty farty pics of the canal and Xizang in a sexy pose, which is tricky trying to take photos on a iPhone while wearing gloves so I end up taking about half a dozen blurred and random ones.

A few more minutes and we’re in Ambergate and the boredom of the A6 through Belper, I’m starting to feel a bit tired now (shut up legs, you love it) after about 50 miles so far today, so it’s straight past the Hollybush in Makeney which is blasphemy in the act, over Eaton Bank and down the other side into Little Eaton. Pint at the New Inn? Why not? You’ve earned it

Its getting on for half 6 now, so a small bottle of Peroni. Not much happening here so the beers necked back and away towards town, I think about going to the Abbey but cancel it since I’m getting tired.

1909
The Brewery Tap.
Birra Moretti.
Settled down in the garden with the last pint of day, miles are starting to catch up with me and I’m really starting to feel tired now, I can feel my eyes getting heavy but one of the bar staff comes out for a smoke and begins to chat about the day and ask about the big ride, I just want to go home but I’m too polite to say anything. After about 45 minute to a hour he finishes his break and I’m finally away, down the river through Alvaston Park and home.

Time for another ice cream.

And a well deserved beer.

http://app.strava.com/activities/171770980

Sunday 20th July

Kit packed for the week away and alarm set for 7, ready for a full days training.

9am.

Shit. Overslept a tad. Oh well, outside isn’t going anywhere.

Crusty Carl* from Mercian cycles is supposed to be riding today on his fixie but he says its going to rain, bit of a lightweight is young Carl or he doesn’t like water because its like washing.

11am.
Text to Carl, “I’m ready when you are” No reply.

11.30am.
Phone call to Carl, “Are you on the way?” “Nah I’m not coming, its too late and I can’t be arsed”.
Thanks for letting me know.

New plan needed because it is getting a bit late for the 60 plus miles I had intended for today. Let’s just go wherever the wind takes me.

Onto the A6 and through Alvaston shopping area, past the locals nipping in and out Tesco and the chavvy families waiting for the Blue Peter to open for the Sunday carvery.
Sharp turn onto a side street with a bit of a wobble because of the extra weight hanging from Xizang, past the local junior school and the estates, over the A6 slip road and BOOM!! Open countryside and Elvaston Castle Country Park. In about 5 minutes pedal from home and the hustle and bustle I’m out in the Hulu.
I love this place, been coming here since before I can remember, but no time for sightseeing, I’m on a mission.
Along the cycle path that runs all round the castle, past a couple of women on horses (always slow down for horses) past the Golden Gates and into Thulston and then Ambaston Lane, which I hate, long drag that’s like a wind tunnel no matter which way you’re going.
Back on the A6 through Shardlow, its a strange feeling not stopping here because there’s more pubs than there is houses, with me still moaning to myself about Crusty Carl being a wimp and Xizang moaning about passing pubs we push on over the border into Castle Donnigton and Leicestershire. No stopping here either because there’s a big hill out of the village. Couple of minutes rest at the top and a hand full of Haribos we’re away again with the sound of planes coming into land and taking off, cars/motorbikes going round the track, the wind whistling in my ears (maybe I need to trim my ear hair) and The Tardis! All this cycling on my own is sending me doo-lally! I’m hearing things now. But then it goes again! It’s at this point I remembered I’ve change my text message alert on my phone “CLAIM PPI NOW!” No, bugger off.
Back in Derbyshire now on the edge of Melbourne trying to remember where The Paddock is, stopped at a junction consulting the GPS with open cycle maps card in it, these maps are fantastic, every pub is marked! But no sign of The Paddock. This can’t be true. The GPS never lies. Maybe I’m too far out. A bloke and his young lad stop next me asking if I’m lost, “Nah mate I’m trying to remember which road The Paddock is on” “You’ll be lucky, its all houses now” Hmmm Bluebell then.
At that moment both me and Xizang decided today’s training ride had turned into a pub ride.

1228pm
The Bluebell.
I parked Xizang up in the village halls front garden and got myself a pint of Shardlow Breweries Golden Eye, an old favourite which is nice and refreshing on warm day like this and got myself comfy on the patio watching and listening to the locals. To give you an idea of village life in Melbourne there’s 3 mobility scooters parked outside the pub.

As I sit there I overhear someone talking about Leatherbritches brewery, that rings a bell! “sorry for ear wagging but is the Leatherbritches at the Bentley Brook?” “Yes mate, I guess you know it?” “Aye, been to a beer festival there drinking green cider, it was foul” chuckles “that’ll be green sleeves”
Pint finished and it’s up the hill and out of Melbourne but not before The Melbourne Arms.

1312pm.
The Melbourne Arms.
The Melbourne Arms is a strange pub, it has a split personality. On one hand its a quiet country pub, on the other its a curry house! And it smells great!
They’ve got Pedigree on the bar but I’ve had a bad pint here before, so I had a pint of Cobra instead, I’m not saying its always bad, I’m just fussy like that. Nearly asked for a flake with my pint.

Outside there’s a bouncy castle. A bouncy castle!! Me and Xizang look at it then each other, grin and look back its then we see the sign. Bloody do-gooders.

Sulking into my pint of fizzy stuff, a family turn and the kids start playing on the castle, me and their dad give each other a look that says “life is so unfair”.

Up Robinsons Hill to the junction of Cocksure Lane (never been down there for some reason) and turn left downhill towards Ticknall.

1414pm
The Wheel at Ticknall is more of a restaurant these days, the kind of place you take your parents on their anniversary. Everyone is in their Sunday best and then there’s me, a sweaty mess sat in the corner of the garden with my expensive pint of Peroni (£4!) but there’s a family of Americans which balance things out. Not much happening here so we’re soon on our way.

Couple of yards up the road we turn into someone’s driveway. Looking innocent we quietly scoot back onto the road. We stop at the right junction this time deciding on which of the three ways to go when Xizang starts pulling to the left… Staff of Life then?

1443pm.
The Staff of Life.
Bottle of Corona here. I get talking to a couple about The Legion (I’m wearing a British Legion bike jersey) and the big ride I’m doing for them. www.bmcharity.com/carlspoppypootle words like nutter, you must be fit and good luck were thrown about.
At the table opposite, there’s a bloke who looks like Sean Lock, he isn’t funny either.
The couple is was talking to left so I managed to get a photo of Xizang looking like a donkey with all her Alpkit stuff

Back out to the road some proper twisty bits, long straights and fast downhill, missed then turning for Repton, no worries there’ll be another one in a few miles.

Went in the Admiral Rodney in Hartshorne, no idea of the time, no idea of what I drank. All I know is I did a bit more PR and spoke to a bloke who had a Cannondale.

Rolling again, getting a little bit worse for wear now, heading for Repton. I got the right turning this time with more twisty down hill bits. I hit 33mph somewhere along here, which is surprising for me because fast down hill scares me, I’ve had “The Big Crash”.

1633.
The Bulls Head.
Packed and hot in the covered garden here, the heat from the kitchen making me sweat even more and feel tired, I only had about 3 hours sleep last night and the smell of food reminds me that I’ve not eaten today.
Armed with a bottle of Corona and a slice of lime so big I thought I was going to have to stamp on it to get it in the bottle, I settled down on the floor, holding the wall up in the tropical garden and started to feel the effect of riding, the heat, the lack of sleep and food plus the beer. Then 2 bears walked in and jolted me awake! I really am losing my marbles, first the Tardis and now bears! Turns out they were Rottweilers. One lumbered over to me and started sniffing and licking my hand. Then the other one came over, by this time I’m giving it the dead routine. I decide to be brave and give them a scratch behind the ears, this sends them loopy! Tails wagging they start licking my face, legs and arms, I’ve not been licked this much since I can’t remember! But then there’s drool and slobber, then a growl… time to play dead again. “Don’t worry, that a playful growl” the owner reassures me. I’ll take your word on that mate, its time for a cool sharp harp.

I’m starting to wobble a bit as I climb back to Xizang, its a good job the roads are dead straight from now on. Repton is the old capital of Mercian, so the Romans and Vikings have had a hand in making this place I think.

Anyway, I’m pedalling again over the old causeway and the bridge over the river Trent into Willington past the 2 same pubs we didn’t stop at last week, left turn along another boring long straight over the A38 (I think. I’m not a driver). A right turn another long one into Etwall. (that few miles from Repton to Etwall rides as boring as it reads).
We pass 2 more pubs… there’s something not right here, there’s no moaning from Xizang. I think she’s decided I’ve had enough and she’s doing a cracking job of keeping me upright, which is a major effort with the extra weight of the bike packing stuff she’s carrying as well.

We’re on the Great Northern Greenway again, same as last week, stile, pedal pedal gate gate pedal… time for the standard #lifebehindbars photo, a wee (I don’t think I’ve been all day, that’s good) and send a text to Andy who I’m meeting in town for a pint, these things was done all at the same time. This man can multi task even when drunk! But the text message didn’t go quite to plan “edge of Mickleover 20-30omitrs” I got no reply but I guess he got what I meant.

We passed The Great Northern pub without a thought of going and turned into Radbourne Lane and got stuck in traffic?!? A traffic jam on a quiet country road on a Sunday afternoon! Temporary traffic lights, got bored quickly and just started looking around looking at nothing in particular, but the car in front of me caught my eye, there was something not quite right about it… MY GOD!! A Transformer!! A Autobot! (Vauxhall) Omega Supreme! If my childhood memories are correct. Made my day this encounter did, thoughts of getting up late, gone, being let down gone. Life long ambition achieved! I’d met a Transformer. Smiles for miles 😃

Still grinning as I ride through town, I suddenly break into song. Well I suddenly break into lots of laa laa dee dee dah with a bit of Monty Python’s Always Look on the Bright Side of Life thrown in, I think I was rather loud going on the looks I was getting as I rode through the Market Place but I didn’t care. I’m happy!!

The Brewery Tap.
Time. Gizza clue?
Pint of Birra Moretti.
Andy’s here waiting for me as I stumbled of Xizang.
“How do matey what you having?” I can’t remember what he had it was probably some weird and wonderful concoction from The Derby Brewing Co.
Me and Andy have been friends since we were in our teens and was in the army cadets together. Both of us have always had a love for the outdoors, I go biking and camping, he goes walking and wild camping (Nutter) look him up at http://andyswildadventureblog.weebly.com so we had plenty to chat about, swapping stories and generally shooting the shit for a couple of hours and 2 pints. I know we both had a phone call that went something like “Where are you?” “I’ll be home soon”.
It had been decided for us, it was time to go.


Then waking up at 3am with one shoe on…


*Crusty Carl. So called because he did The Pennine Cycleway with me and he didn’t take a wash kit him.

http://app.strava.com/activities/168816093