For the past few weeks I have been been averting my gaze whenever the weather forecasting folk show the VERY BIG map of the UK. It’s HUGE and seems to be there not to tell us about the weather but to demonstrate what a MASSIVE land mass this UK place is. Or is that just me?
For the same reason I have been avoiding planning a route which will involve me writing lots of place names and thereby once again demonstrating the sheer madness of visiting them...by bike...in 13 days.
But I can delay the moment no longer, and without further ado or hesitation, without a moment’s more procrastination or a second’s second thought, this really is it, now, coming right up, here, any time, 5 4 3 2 1, now...
Day One - Well if I’m going to have a heart attack I may as well do it on the first day and save a bob or two on bed and breakfasts. I am starting off with a 100 mile ‘loosener’ from Land’s End to Okehampton. I will pass close to Penzance, Redruth, Bodmin, Launceston and skirting Dartmoor before I collapse in a heap and have a little cry.
Day Two - I’m not entirely sure yet how I’m going to get there, but I’m heading for Glastonbury where I will lay my head and dream dreams of rock greats and quagmire fields. Distance somewhere in the mid-80’s, I think.
Day Three - Only 65 miles today - virtually a day off - as I make my way from Glastonbury to Monmouth. Hang on, I think I’m over the border in Wales at this point. Blimey, not only is it 1000 miles, it’s also three countries. To get to Wales I will be going through Wells, across the top of the beautiful Mendip Hills, no doubt cursing all the way.
Day Four - Another shortish day of 57 miles from Monmouth to Clun. I’m told this bit is quite flat. Yeah right! I go through the city of Hereford, watching out for stray SAS deserters at all times. Clun I understand is ‘a friendly village with real ale pubs’ - job’s a good ‘un.
Day Five - This is an 80 miler from Clun up to Runcorn, calling at Bishops Castle, Ellesmere and Chester. These roads have been described as ‘an uncovered gem’. We’ll see about that. I guess Runcorn is about as close as I get to home on the trip and that’s not very close.
Day Six - Leaving Runcorn I set a course for Slaiburn 64 miles away. As this day involves some tricky navigation I could clock up a few more miles. Canal towpaths, motorway underpasses and city cycle tracks are involved...I fear the worst!
Day Seven - 75 miles through some areas of outstanding natural beauty. Good! I look forward to the look on the day trippers’ faces as I emerge from a cloud of cursing and abuse to bid them good day. Some challenging ascents in the latter stages of the ride will doubtless add further colour to the unpleasantries. God willing, I wind up in Keswick for the night.
Day Eight - A 72 mile slog from Keswick to Moffatt, passing by the historic city of Carlisle, home to the legendary King Eddie of Stobart. I’m running out of steam already and I’ve not even got on the bike yet.
Day Nine - Sees me in the third country of the ride as I traverse the Carphairn Forest (?) and try and save enough energy to pedal very fast through Glasgow. Interesting sights today will include the Clydebank Docks, Glasgow Harbour and me trying to outpace a Special Brew-fuelled villager through The Gorbals (only joking Glasgow, we love you and your reputation for high-volume drinking). The day comes to a grinding halt after 83 miles on the bonny bonny banks of Loch Lomond.
Day Ten - Loch Lomand to Glen Coe - ‘Amazing scenery’ apparently. I don’t like the sound of that one little bit. In my experience ‘amazing scenery’ could be loosely translated at shocking great hills, specially designed to try and kill cyclists. It’s 66 miles and sounds as though it could be the longest walk of the trip.
Day Eleven - I sense it’s not going to get much flatter as I aim the bike at Inverness. It’s an 83 mile day and takes in some beautiful Scottish lochs including the one that’s home to Nessy. I think there’s a pretty good chance I will see the famous monster, as by this stage I will be seeing all sorts in my exhausted, and confused state. I’ll try and get a picture.
Day Twelve - Across the Moray Firth and up an ascent the locals call ‘Struie’. A guidebook explains how I will be rewarded with impressive views of Dornoch Firth. I’m already guessing this reward will be insufficient unless the vista is served up with two pints of Kronenbourg, a big bag of peanuts and a Mars bar for desert. It’s a 66 mile day concluding at Crask.
Day Thirteen - The final stage is an 82 miler featuring ‘unforgettable backdrops’ that is also code for stinking great hills. The very last bit is quite flat and so I’m hoping to be able to put my feet up and get a cigar on for the final cruise in to John O’Groats.
So, for those who are quite interested in the route but didn’t want to sift through all the banal waffle above, here’s a summary...
Day 1, May 22 - Land’s End - Okehampton
Day 2, May 23 - Okehampton - Glastobury
Day 3, May 24 - Glastonbury - Monmouth
Day 4, May 25 - Monmouth - Clun
Day 5, May 26 - Clun - Runcorn
Day 6, May 27 - Runcorn - Slaidburn
Day 7 - May 28 - Slaidburn - Keswick
Day 8 - May 29 - Keswick - Moffatt
Day 9 - May 30 - Moffatt - Loch Lomand
Day 10 - May 31 - Loch Lomand - Glen Coe
Day 11 - June 1 - Glen Coe - Inverness
Day 12 - June 2 - Inverness - Crask
Day 13 - June 3 - Crask - John O’Groats
Jez
Sunday 27 March 2011
Saturday 19 March 2011
Right! That’s a Plan (sort of)
One big worry I have about this two weeks in purgatory (actually I suppose that’s a worry in itself) is the planning, and my complete inability to plan something to the point where it works, rather than the point where I get bored and just go with whatever fragments of a plan we may have shuffled together on the kitchen table at the time.
I know it makes sense to plan to the point of perfection, plan to the point where not even an tinsy winsy rogue factor can undermine the grand scheme, but I’m simply not capable. I think it must be a genetic disorder...
Take the route planing for example. No sooner had I started plotting the big adventure, day by day, than I lost one! A day had gone missing. The two week trek had suddenly and mysteriously become a 13 day ride. Despite ‘extensive’ hide and seek with a big pile of maps and website print outs the missing day was nowhere to be seen. A Saturday I think it was. I’ve had problems losing Saturdays before - but that’s often explained by the events of Friday nights.
I probably should have stuck at it because that missing day could be crucial. But did I see the planning through to a satisfactory solution - did I ******* . No, I called off the search, settled for lucky 13 and headed to the boozer. “And here’s to planning,” I could be heard to bellow three pints and a bag of salt and vinegar later.
I believe that for some people the Internet and on-line shopping has done much to hone planning skills. Battle plan goes something like this; research outlets, swat up on technical detail, compare prices and finally make a purchase. For me it has just brought out an inherent impatience which typically will see me begin with the best of planning intentions, but I’m only just in to the initial technical detail-gathering phase before it starts to go all ‘google’.
Internet’s too slow, fuse too short, and patience too thin. Before I know where I am I’ve hit the panic button - otherwise knows as ‘Checkout’. All thoughts of correct size, right colour, competitive price have been trashed and trampled, but I have bought ‘something’ and that was my initial plan. So that’s a success then? Well at least for a few days until the parcel is delivered.
I acknowledge that I have not made a particularly accomplished start to the planning part of my end-to-end adventure, but I fear worse could still be to come...
I still need to work out what clothing to take and, based on previous holiday wardrobe planning escapades, there is potential for a problem or two. On one occasion my top-half attire for a 10 day stay in ‘beautiful sunny’ Spain consisted of t-shirts, a polo shirt and t-shirts. When ‘beautiful sunny’ failed to show its face I ‘layered up’ and went through my shirt selection inside three days.
And what equipment and spares should I be planning to take? That was actually a question - help me - what equipment should I be planning take?
At the risk of becoming Baldrick - I have another plan, and that is, given my previous convictions, to excuse myself from all planning duties and leave future planning to my favourite project manager - Lady Luck.
Jez
I know it makes sense to plan to the point of perfection, plan to the point where not even an tinsy winsy rogue factor can undermine the grand scheme, but I’m simply not capable. I think it must be a genetic disorder...
Take the route planing for example. No sooner had I started plotting the big adventure, day by day, than I lost one! A day had gone missing. The two week trek had suddenly and mysteriously become a 13 day ride. Despite ‘extensive’ hide and seek with a big pile of maps and website print outs the missing day was nowhere to be seen. A Saturday I think it was. I’ve had problems losing Saturdays before - but that’s often explained by the events of Friday nights.
I probably should have stuck at it because that missing day could be crucial. But did I see the planning through to a satisfactory solution - did I ******* . No, I called off the search, settled for lucky 13 and headed to the boozer. “And here’s to planning,” I could be heard to bellow three pints and a bag of salt and vinegar later.
I believe that for some people the Internet and on-line shopping has done much to hone planning skills. Battle plan goes something like this; research outlets, swat up on technical detail, compare prices and finally make a purchase. For me it has just brought out an inherent impatience which typically will see me begin with the best of planning intentions, but I’m only just in to the initial technical detail-gathering phase before it starts to go all ‘google’.
Internet’s too slow, fuse too short, and patience too thin. Before I know where I am I’ve hit the panic button - otherwise knows as ‘Checkout’. All thoughts of correct size, right colour, competitive price have been trashed and trampled, but I have bought ‘something’ and that was my initial plan. So that’s a success then? Well at least for a few days until the parcel is delivered.
I acknowledge that I have not made a particularly accomplished start to the planning part of my end-to-end adventure, but I fear worse could still be to come...
I still need to work out what clothing to take and, based on previous holiday wardrobe planning escapades, there is potential for a problem or two. On one occasion my top-half attire for a 10 day stay in ‘beautiful sunny’ Spain consisted of t-shirts, a polo shirt and t-shirts. When ‘beautiful sunny’ failed to show its face I ‘layered up’ and went through my shirt selection inside three days.
And what equipment and spares should I be planning to take? That was actually a question - help me - what equipment should I be planning take?
At the risk of becoming Baldrick - I have another plan, and that is, given my previous convictions, to excuse myself from all planning duties and leave future planning to my favourite project manager - Lady Luck.
Jez
Saturday 12 March 2011
Ah yes, the training...
Once we have all the usual witticisms out of the way - “Be easier to drive you know,” “Why are you staring at Land’s End - it’s uphill...” etc etc, we then move on to the one I can’t politely smile at, the one that renders me speechless (well almost), “So, how’s the training going then?”
At this point I really ought to be able to whip out my pre-prepared list of ‘training issues’ - issues that have ‘complicated’ my brilliantly-conceived, studiously-compiled training regime. The ‘issues list’ goes something like this...
- weekend footie on Sky
- blog writing
- twitter tweeting
- Spotify
- The Cross Keys
- midweek footie on Sky
- Sainsbury takeaway curry
- flat tyres
- bad back
- bad attitude
- too windy
- too cold
- too just right
Need I go on?
It’s a sorry tale of a mass conspiracy by satellite broadcasters, fatty food producers, beer brewers, social media moguls, and weather makers, to derail my grand scheme at this crucial stage of the preparation.
So, as it appears I cannot rely on their backing, I am resigned to formulating a brand new plan which involves riding my bike and cutting back on stuff that makes you a great lardy blob. I know it’s drastic, but that’s the kind of committed athlete I have become. When? About two sentences back I think it was.
Yes! This is where the serious stuff starts! Calorie intake, resting heart rate and optimum cadence will all be scientifically monitored as I widen my search for stalling tactics before I have to actually inflict true cycling pain on my tired old body.
So, when you ask me in two week’s time (actually, make that three/four) how the training’s going, I will be able to confidently assure you my previous ‘training issues’ are well and truly behind me...and I now have a new, but equally impressive, list!
Jez
At this point I really ought to be able to whip out my pre-prepared list of ‘training issues’ - issues that have ‘complicated’ my brilliantly-conceived, studiously-compiled training regime. The ‘issues list’ goes something like this...
- weekend footie on Sky
- blog writing
- twitter tweeting
- Spotify
- The Cross Keys
- midweek footie on Sky
- Sainsbury takeaway curry
- flat tyres
- bad back
- bad attitude
- too windy
- too cold
- too just right
Need I go on?
It’s a sorry tale of a mass conspiracy by satellite broadcasters, fatty food producers, beer brewers, social media moguls, and weather makers, to derail my grand scheme at this crucial stage of the preparation.
So, as it appears I cannot rely on their backing, I am resigned to formulating a brand new plan which involves riding my bike and cutting back on stuff that makes you a great lardy blob. I know it’s drastic, but that’s the kind of committed athlete I have become. When? About two sentences back I think it was.
Yes! This is where the serious stuff starts! Calorie intake, resting heart rate and optimum cadence will all be scientifically monitored as I widen my search for stalling tactics before I have to actually inflict true cycling pain on my tired old body.
So, when you ask me in two week’s time (actually, make that three/four) how the training’s going, I will be able to confidently assure you my previous ‘training issues’ are well and truly behind me...and I now have a new, but equally impressive, list!
Jez
Sunday 6 March 2011
The Art Of Bike Maintenance
Me and bike maintenance - ALERT ALERT - invalid sentence - incompatible noun and pro- noun!!!
The main reason I am devoting an entire blog to a subject on which my knowledge levels are pathetically inadequate is the forlorn hope that someone will read this, remember it, feel sorry for me, find me shoulder-shrugging in a lay-bye just south of Keswick, remember reading this blog, recognize me, feel sorry for me and put my chain back on for me.
Ok I realize it's a long shot but you have to realize long shots are the premise on which this whole adventure are founded, so, if it's ok with you I will continue.
I could recount an entire mini-series worth of content to support the case for my maintenance buffoonery, but to set the buckled wheel in motion...
Arrived at work one day two weeks ago after a particularly noisy ride in. "Got a serious creak going on." I said to my biking mate at the office. "Could be your head set," came the swift response. For the next 20 seconds I marvelled at the beautiful harmony I had clearly developed with my bike whereby my mental state could translate into a mechanical disfunction. Clearly all I need to do to rectify the problem was adopt a more positive frame of mind and I would once again be cruising silently along. Now this was my kind of maintenance!
This is possibly an exaggerated example of my incompetence, but I do definitely have more of an affinity to the type of skewers that feature chocolate and pineapple rather than those you push through wheels. And as for dropouts, well, I don't know about you but I'm talking Leeds Polytechnic 1979.
Strange thing is no one enjoys thumbing through the Handy Hire catalogue as much as me. There's a good hour plus entertainment in the shiny line-up of jet washers and glistening array of 2000 piece socket sets. But that's as far as it goes - looking and longing, but not using. Anyone who buys my tool collection is in for the deal of a lifetime - 'hardly used' will be very honest product description.
I almost bought a bike stand the other year, but realized just in time it would be used to make my bike look better - the amazing flying machine - rather than having any practical application.
But, if you were starting to form an opinion of me which contains the sentiments "useless oaf" and "clueless moron" let me stop you right there! I have not wasted the time I maybe should have spent polishing chains or greasing brake blocks. No, I have been busy formulating a plan for the ultimate addition to any toolbox - it's a spray, in a can, a bit like WD 40, with one of those thin little tube attachments to reach those tricky spots. You spray it at the problem area and 'job's a good 'un'. It works thanks to a scientifically formulated mixture, heavy on essence of magic. One squirt and you're sorted!
If by any chance the boffins haven't got their act together before I set out from Lands End on 21 May and It's not possible to stash a can of magic mainti-spray
In my back pocket, then please look out for me in that lay-by. You'll recognize me, I'll be wearing a gormless expression and rummaging through my collection of allen key.
Jez
The main reason I am devoting an entire blog to a subject on which my knowledge levels are pathetically inadequate is the forlorn hope that someone will read this, remember it, feel sorry for me, find me shoulder-shrugging in a lay-bye just south of Keswick, remember reading this blog, recognize me, feel sorry for me and put my chain back on for me.
Ok I realize it's a long shot but you have to realize long shots are the premise on which this whole adventure are founded, so, if it's ok with you I will continue.
I could recount an entire mini-series worth of content to support the case for my maintenance buffoonery, but to set the buckled wheel in motion...
Arrived at work one day two weeks ago after a particularly noisy ride in. "Got a serious creak going on." I said to my biking mate at the office. "Could be your head set," came the swift response. For the next 20 seconds I marvelled at the beautiful harmony I had clearly developed with my bike whereby my mental state could translate into a mechanical disfunction. Clearly all I need to do to rectify the problem was adopt a more positive frame of mind and I would once again be cruising silently along. Now this was my kind of maintenance!
This is possibly an exaggerated example of my incompetence, but I do definitely have more of an affinity to the type of skewers that feature chocolate and pineapple rather than those you push through wheels. And as for dropouts, well, I don't know about you but I'm talking Leeds Polytechnic 1979.
Strange thing is no one enjoys thumbing through the Handy Hire catalogue as much as me. There's a good hour plus entertainment in the shiny line-up of jet washers and glistening array of 2000 piece socket sets. But that's as far as it goes - looking and longing, but not using. Anyone who buys my tool collection is in for the deal of a lifetime - 'hardly used' will be very honest product description.
I almost bought a bike stand the other year, but realized just in time it would be used to make my bike look better - the amazing flying machine - rather than having any practical application.
But, if you were starting to form an opinion of me which contains the sentiments "useless oaf" and "clueless moron" let me stop you right there! I have not wasted the time I maybe should have spent polishing chains or greasing brake blocks. No, I have been busy formulating a plan for the ultimate addition to any toolbox - it's a spray, in a can, a bit like WD 40, with one of those thin little tube attachments to reach those tricky spots. You spray it at the problem area and 'job's a good 'un'. It works thanks to a scientifically formulated mixture, heavy on essence of magic. One squirt and you're sorted!
If by any chance the boffins haven't got their act together before I set out from Lands End on 21 May and It's not possible to stash a can of magic mainti-spray
In my back pocket, then please look out for me in that lay-by. You'll recognize me, I'll be wearing a gormless expression and rummaging through my collection of allen key.
Jez
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