This is the tale of 6 intrepid souls who cycled the 140 miles from coast to coast.

Prologue

The idea of cycling from C2C was muted some time in the summer of 1997, exact date is a mystery, by Paul Steward. At the time he was still in plaster, and with more ironwork than the Clifton suspension bridge, after being rebuilt in a northern shipyard following a horrendous motorcycle accident. It was something I had thought about for some time, and so I agreed to research it. I quickly found information on the internet, on where to obtain detailed info. I sent off for the map and a B&B guide. The next time the C2C was mentioned was at Del Hartley's housewarming BBQ , many souls muted interest, including Del himself, and Ian Crow, Paul S was still in a wheelchair at this stage and didn’t even own a bicycle. Nothing much happened until after Xmas when Stewie now well on the way to recovery bought a bicycle, a Trek 6000SHX, Beautiful machine with front suspension. Paul trained hard, as did I, Dawn my wife put in a token effort, and Del did his best to deny any knowledge of ever agreeing to do it. When asked, a week before starting this ride,if he had trained, Del assured me he had ridden at least 30 miles in the last 6 months. With a month to go Paul Burr decided he would have a go and went out and bought a Bicycle, he bought one for Lisa too, but as she was pregnant she had the best excuse of all. To finish off our merry band John Sholine, (Jesus John to some , as he so resembles the messiah) my mountain biking buddy for the last 5 or 6 years, joined us.

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Day 1 "No, not that way !"

With the amount of lead-time we had the final arrangements all came very quickly in the last 2 weeks. The plan was simple (ha-Ha), all meet up at Del’s place on Friday night, then take Paul Steward’s car, and Paul Burr’s car complete with trailer (Bikes inside) up to Whitehaven to start the C2C Saturday lunch time. Kathy and Lisa would then drive the cars cross country as our support. So after a relaxed start we all stop at McDonalds for breakfast, and tuck into pancakes and the like. Then Northward we go on the A1. Del, The Essex boy living in Yorkshire, poo-hoo’d the plans to take the M62, M6, A66 route and insisted that we take the A1, A66 because as a "Local" he knew better. We reached the A66 turn on the A1 only to find the A66 was closed, thanks Del. After a brief discussion we decided to take the A689 across the Pennines, mind numbingly slow progress it was too. We arrived in Whitehaven over 3 hours late and pissed off. We finally get rolling at 4.00pm, after taking photo’s etc. At least we only had 30 miles to go to Keswick. Once we had picked our way out of Whitehaven we hit the C2C trail proper, a resurrected railway line. Progress was good, we would have to stop at Cleator Moor to get our C2C cards stamped. Del was struggling early on, he had been talked into (Conned into) fitting some "Green Tyres" these are modern Hi Tech devices which have the benefit of having no air in them, i.e. they are bloody solid, and Del was getting bounced around something awful. On numerous occasions my name was besmirched because of my Navigating, I had the map, and I knew how to use it, and may I say loud and clear "Told you so". Cards stamped at Cleator Moor, then off again. The route took us through some beautiful countryside and alongside lakes on quiet country roads. The only real climb of the day came at Whinlatter forest, where the road went vertical. The only way of climbing steep hills is to stay in a rhythm, I quickly dropped the others. Upon arriving at the Forest visitor’s centre I waited. We all regrouped, and had a short rest. Dawn, Del, and Paul Burr all decided to take the road, down into Keswick. Paul Steward, John, and myself decided to take the "Caution very steep and rough descent" trail through the Forest. What a rush!! 40MPH on a bicycle wearing lycra and a piece of polystyrene strapped to your head!. Words cannot describe the feeling, as the 3 of us plummet, sliding around corners with the brakes and the riders squealing equally. I had to ring my bell to warn some walkers of our approach, however how they could have remained oblivious to us is a mystery. We finally reach the bottom and have to haul on the brakes real hard. We stop to gather our thoughts, the 3 of us grinning like idiots. The next few minutes conversation must have sounded like aliens talking. The rims of our wheels were so hot they were barely touchable. Paul said "I’m glad Kathy couldn’t see me doing that, she would have had a fit!!" The ride on the road was not without incident either. Del rounded a corner and found himself on the wrong side of the road with a Volvo coming the other way. They missed each other, who says all Volvo drivers are myopic. We pick up the route back to Keswick, and meet up with the others with only a few miles to go. So it was a real nice end to the day’s riding to roll in together, and meet up with "Team Backup". A few of us met in the bar for a drink while our spouses /roommates took a bath. We then all later met up for a proper meal in the hotel Restaurant. Del tried his damnedest to charm the knickers off the Hotel receptionist, but Del was very soon made aware that she was married, to a very large gentleman. A post meal sortie found a very nice pub selling real ale and with real live music playing, the kind you listen to, as opposed to being deafened by.

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Day 2. The Day the Sky got closer.

We knew day 2 would be tough, the profile for the terrain had lots of bumpy bits, but nothing could have prepared us for what we were about to receive. Del took up Lisa Burr’s kind offer of the use of her bike (which had been taken as a spare). As we gathered in the Hotel car park gathering our belongings, and checking equipment, John say’s "Wait I can’t go!!" we all stop, bemused, as he adds "I don’t have a mobile phone!". We didn’t hit him!!. First stop the local Spar shop to get the C2C card stamped. Then we picked our way to the C2C trail, another resurrected railway line. This was truly excellent, nothing to tough to get us going, gentle inclines, passing through some beautiful terrain, the pace was quite sedate as we savoured the views. The route gets quite convoluted as we pick our way along quiet country roads and trails, we had to negotiate several gates along the way. Gated roads how quaint!. The route bumbled along fairly gently until we reached Penrith, where the road goes vertical once more. Del was now far more comfortable on Lisa’s MTB than on his own road bicycle, although he was now complaining of a sore arse. To alleviate this he had stuffed his fleece jacket down the back of his shorts, to the relief of his arse, and everyone’s amusement. We contact Team Backup and arrange a rendezvous for lunch. We finally come to rest at the Shepherd’s arms, I think that’s what it was called, where copious quantities of food and drink are shoveled down our necks. Cycling burns many calories and we needed sustenance. Del takes advantage of the offer of another saddle, which Paul S had bought along. The next section would be uphill, very uphill, and perhaps those beers lay heavy, as we slowly make our way towards Heartside, with a happy arsed Del in tow. I manage to get separated from the others, and end up miles off course. Fortunately I have a map (and I Still know how to use it!) and plot a course to intercept the rest of the crew. We regroup more by luck I suspect than immaculate planning. The map says "very steep rough track" and the "alternative road route" looks like a real detour. So we take the "very steep rough track". John is now in his element as he drops everyone. I get so incensed by this that I hammer myself up the next section, determined not to drop onto the "Granny" ring, and turn my legs into steel rods for about the next 2 hours. We hit tarmac once more, but it’s no picnic, and the climb seems to go on and on, and our legs burn. Dawn, Del, and Paul B were pushing, so we had a long wait at the junction with the A689, before we recommence for the final push up to Heartside. The section up to Heartside was terrifying, because being a Sunday afternoon and the sun was shining, every "Boy Racer" and "Fast Freddie" was out. On more than one occasion I was overtaken by Bikers so close that we brushed shoulders!!. 4 out of the 6 of us were Bikers and we were all disgusted with the lack of respect we received from people we considered to be kindred spirits. We finally reach the top of Heartside 580 Metres above sea level. It’s bloody windy and cold, so we all don windbreaks. After cups of tea, coffee etc. we set off once more. It’s downhill now, but we have a head wind, so there is little rest, we finally turn off the main road and onto a quiet road, where progress can be made without having to watch out for Hammerhead Bikers, and Drongo drivers. We ride on to Garrigil, all feeling fairly knackered, and looking forward to that evenings rest. We regroup in Garrigil, and deliberate whether to take the off road route to Nenthead or the paved route. The map warns of "very steep rough tracks" on the off road route so we opt for the blacktop. Big mistake!. As we turn the corner such adjectives as F^&*, S^&*, B*(&&%$& are uttered, this is the steepest hill I have ever seen, we press on as the options have diminished to zero. I drop John (revenge is sweet). The real killer about this climb was not the steepness but the number of false crests we had to negotiate. I arrive at the summit first. After a few seconds wait, I decide to press on alone, as it was freezing cold. The Descent into Nenthead is almost as steep as the ascent so I hurtle, sometimes at reckless speed down to the Village. At last I arrive at the Miners Arms, purchase a pint and sit outside waiting for the others. It was quite some wait, as unknown to me John had punctured a few metres from the summit. It was quite a sight, sitting outside the pub watching the others dropping down into the village. I was glad to see them as I was getting cold. We retire indoors to the warmth and shelter of the log-fired pub. We decide to eat here and all order meals. Resuscitated by the food and drink we ride to our Hotel about 2 miles away. The hotels a bit weird as the folk who run it are all ex-pats and are a bit prissy about things, we felt we were intruding into someone’s home. A few beers for a nightcap and off to bed again.

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Day 3 the Day the sky got closer (2)

We had all convinced ourselves that this day could not be as difficult as the one before. That was true, however the climbs of the day all came at the start. The first climb is up to Allenheads, although not as steep as the day before it was still tough. It was no help that it was now raining, cold and windy. The rain was no more than drizzle but the wind lashed it against our faces. John and I finally call a truce to our competetive antics and work together. We arrive at the summit with Stewie not far behind. The 3 of us regroup, we decide not to wait as it’s FO cold. A little further on once off the summit we stop and wait for the others, at this stage Dawn looked as though she would bale out, but a little encouragement and she was off again. We stop in the Village of Allenheads planning on getting a cup of coffee/tea however the local visitors centre is closed on Mondays, Joy!. So we push on to Rookhope, and regroup outside the local corner shop, which by a strange coincidence was on a corner. "Very steep rough track" the map warns, and it wasn’t kidding, this is a real grind, the only consolation is that this is the last climb and the rest would be all downhill (ish). John, Paul and myself wait awhile at the top, however it is bloody cold, so John and Paul decide to go on, while I wait for Dawn. Dawn arrives alone, Del and Paul B are nowhere to be seen. As we later discover they are noshing Pot Noodle in the corner shop!. Dawn and I push on, the team now split into 3 groups of 2. A slushy muddy ride and a slight navigational error leads us onto the Waskerley way, yes that’s its real name, and yes there were Waskerley wabbits. The Waskerley way is an old railway track, now a cycle trail, it was excellent, although the surface was a little loose it rode nicely, and we make good progress, which was only hindered slightly by the large number of gates we had to negotiate. We arrive in Stanley and meet up with the others at the Safeway Supermarket, which was the next stamping point along the route. We practically clean Safeway’s out of sandwiches, no time to stop for beer and food. It’s all-downhill now, as we make our way out of Stanley, and pick up yet another "Rail to Trail" type route. This is a great ride, the signposting is excellent, there is a Sustrans regional office in Stanley, what a strange coincidence! The weather is now much better, it’s almost warm and the sun pokes its head out now and again. John has to be rescued from a local who is giving him advice on the route, however the Geordie accent is almost impossible for John. The local asks John what part of the US he’s from, to which he replies "East Anglia". Paul B and Del get away from the rest of us and they take advantage, we can see them in the distance hammering away and running/ throwing their bikes over the stiles that we all had to negotiate. We decide to let them fry for a while before making any attempt to reel them in. We finally regroup at an area that has been arranged for mucking about on bikes. We all decide to have a crack at riding along the ridge of this structure, great fun. After 20mins mucking about onward we go. We cross what we believe to be the A19, John asks a passer by, in his best Dick Van Dyke accent "skewz me, wot mot’way is this", "It’s the Washington Highway" she says, "that’s the problem" says John, "we’re in the wrong State!" you can’t take him anywhere!!. There are a few navigational nightmares along the way as a construction site had cut the trail in two. We find ourselves travelling alongside a rather rough looking housing estate, with a pack of semi wild dogs milling around. Del’s missing Boysie (his Mutt) and so calls to the cutest looking one, whereupon we find ourselves being persued by said dogs. The dogs finally break off the chase, and decide to pick on less mobile prey. About 10 miles to go Dawn gets only our second puncture of the ride, that fixed we press on. Navigation in Sunderland is awful, however we eventually find our way under the famous Gateshead Bridge. As I climb out from under the bridge I collect puncture no. 3, it’s only slow so I pump it up hard and hope. We eventually arrive at the Final stamping point tired but relieved. After the photo call we throw the bikes back into the trailer, and head south. It would have been cool to stay the night in the area, and have good piss-up to celebrate, but some folks had work the next day. We stock up with beer at Del’s local offy and then phone in an order to the local Tandoori, who deliver and we all have a well earned nosh.

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This was a truly great adventure. Despite the problems, we had immense fun. Stewie was now even more entrenched in cycling and Mr. Burr was a clear convert, as for Del it remains to be seen, but I suspect we will see Del the cyclist in the near future. John has now left the UK so it was a great memory for him to take with him. Dawn finished with determination to continue riding and me well I just love being on 2 wheels. Very special thanks to Kathy and Lisa, Team backup performed like the troopers that they truly are, this ride would have been a lot less fun without them.