C2C Day Three: Roll Into The Mist

The previous night had been a big a great time to relax and enjoy a beer and some salty food. On the drive out to get the Chinese I'd thought up a very naughty thought. As we were now off the C2C it would do no harm grabbing a lift back up the hill, back to the start of the hill. Only no one seemed to agree with me. So we were to head back up that endless wonderful downhill we'd done the day before, only this time it wouldn't be so wonderful.

Heading in to the hotel adjoining our accommodation we all stocked up on an all you can eat breakfast, including my Dad who didn't have any riding to do! Still as we sat in our Lycra under a massive chandelier we could see a lot of people in a worse state than us as the leftovers of the previous days wedding tried to eat their hangover cure.

We had an added luxury that morning in that we could shed some weight and not just by Andy heading to the toilet. With the Love Bus leaving us at the start and then meeting us at the end we could leave all non essentials behind and ride like the rest of the people on the route. The previous night we'd had fresh 'disco' clothes as Jon had called them, today we had fresh riding gear and nothing else needed.

Heading out of the hotel we were down the now small feeling descent and on to the climb. Tapping out a steady rhythm Spanners pulls level "I'm not letting you have this one". "Oh no, we're still doing this are we" I thought. "You can have it" I said, hoping to bluff him and he'd ride at a steady pace. Of course he didn't buy it, of course he didn't. How did I not realise he was going to take this seriously. Looking back he'd shed his panniers AND his pannier racks. Not only that but he'd announced it! Now he was accelerating away from me.

No Panniers For Spanners

Tired and not ready I thought I'd see how my legs felt. I pressed a bit harder and responded OK. Keeping him ahead of me I started to enjoy the climb. It was a beautiful day and the steep start of 15% had changed to a much more flattering 5%. The hill had duped me, I'd thought my legs were getting better, that I was improving as the climb went on. I started putting everything in to the climb, trying with all my might to pull him back. I was nowhere. He was disappearing around corners ahead of me and the gap wasn't dropping. In fact looking back afterwards on Strava's excellent Flyby feature (where you can see where you are on the road compared to them) I can see I matched him early on but at the end when I was putting it all in he was opening up the gap. The last hill was Spanner's, it had been great having a sparring partner and he'd really pushed me on, I'd enjoyed the last hill as much as the others, especially in the sunshine.

Sweaty and overdressed we all stripped to the waist, applied sun scream and we were off downhill. It was now free wheeling territory and not just because of a mechanical issue this time. It was a weird feeling, great to have an easier ride but it also meant we were getting closer to the end of the ride. We'd had such good weather and a great time in beautiful surroundings. We were off road for most of the ride in to Sunderland and able to chat our way back to the bus.

We took in the sights, The Stadium of Light came in to view and now we were beside the water we knew any uphill would have a downhill. Neither were particularly welcome on tired legs and the more it dragged out before getting to the end, the more we just wanted to see it end. Andy and Jon were certainly looking forward to a pint at the finish. If only we could find it.

Even when we got to the sea and the beach we couldn't find the official end. Having been slowed down by a lifeboat training exercise we'd travelled around the last couple of miles with my Dad on foot. With it out of the way we'd headed out in to the mist to the lighthouse. Photos taken there and on the beach, we were done. The end it turns out was an arty piece with a hole in the middle which was great for photos. So Andy and Jon got their pints and we got to eat our weight in saturated fat for one last time. Job done.

C2C Day Two: The Wheels Come Off

It’s all in the name and we’re not called Team Pannier for nothing. Carrying our own gear may slow us down slightly but it also gives you a great sense of freedom and independence. This is never more the case than on the second day, travelling from one hotel to another with only the supplies you brought with you. It does also make you vulnerable, you have to make sure you take everything you’ll need but at the same time you have to keep the weight to an absolute minimum. Famously on our first ride Spanners brought such a large array of items you might guess he’d got his nickname from that. He brought a massive box of tools and bike parts amongst other important things such as his electric toothbrush and a pile of not-so-light reading material. Well over the years we’ve managed to get the amount we take down to a bare minimum which does result in the strange sight of Spanners going out for his evening meal in shorts and flip flops - no matter what the weather is.

Getting up that morning and heading out to The Rooster café we were just looking for weight to put in our stomachs to fuel the day ahead. After five plates of full English or sandwich variants of the sodium filled breakfast tradition, we were ready for the off. We had an exciting day ahead of us as we were about to travel across the North Pennines and all the beauty and hill climbing that that involves.

Out of Penrith we headed out straight up a hill in the sunshine, what a lovely day and what a good decision to take the correct route this time. Of course last time we took a massive detour (you can read about it on the original C2C posts) setting off from Penrith at lunch time. This time we got to experience a new section of route and Andy wouldn’t hear our “one time at band camp” comments for a while. Or so we thought, in a laughable amount of time we were at the pub we’d reached around 5 last time. The amount of detour we did really came to life and was in full view as we crossed the village green and gained half a day.

That was good because on everyone’s mind was Hartside, a hill that held many memories for us from the previous trip, Neil having a melt down, me and him pushing up the last sections (never too proud to push) and the café being closed at the top. From what I could remember at the start you couldn’t see the top or even the climb ahead and so you were always guessing where it started. This time we had a clearer idea and we knew what to expect.

As we felt we were near the start of the climb we had a quick pit stop to de-robe, take on supplies and have a final psyche up before hitting the pedals. As we crossed the road on to what we thought was the start of the climb we were hit with something we hadn’t planned for or expected – a head wind. It wasn’t a small one either, it made the lower levels a lot harder than expected and made any great effort futile. Dropping back to chat to Rich we rode side by side looking at it from a positive point of view “hopefully when we get closer to the hill we’ll be more protected” “as the climb zig zags at least we’ll get some tail wind”. With one last stop to gather together we then pushed on.

It soon became clear me and Rich were happy to battle the wind together and we chatted as we climbed up the winding road. Looking back down below us we could see clearly the bright jerseys and windcheaters of our cycling buddies. Yet despite our lower than normal tempo, every time we looked back the gap seemed to have grown. As the wind hadn’t died down I sat in behind Rich’s big frame and sheltered from the wind as we came on the main road section of the climb. The desired shelter from the hill had worked to some extent but we were still feeling a lot of wind resistance, then we turned a corner and we had the most wonderful feeling – a tail wind! Never had climbing up hill felt so easy, Hartside isn’t the steepest of climbs, it just drags on and on but now, for a short window it felt like a breeze to ascend.

Arriving at the (thankfully) open café we took on plenty of food, raiding as much supplies as possible without risking a shortage later. Being on the summit Rich and I were now fully open to the elements and quickly added as many layers as we could. Having eaten our snacks and got changed, the other three now arrived. Andy had some mechanical issues and had to stop a couple of times of the ascent to try to fix them. That explained the gap that had opened up and the wait at the top. Not questioning it any further we decided to head out of the wind and grab a hot cup of coffee. Eyeing up the tray bake we all snacked and drank, content knowing the big climb was done. Having bought our drinks through the outside hatch Rich and I headed inside for some quick warmth. Finding the last two seats in the café – it’s popular with both bicycle and motorbike riders – we shared a table with an oldish couple.

Having finished I left Rich at the table and stretching my legs, I stood enjoying the view from the window. Turning around I could see a tall attractive blonde woman asking Rich if my seat was free, looking her up and down Rich seemed quite keen for me to confirm I was indeed done. However he soon finished up as her biker male friend came over to join her.

We now had two nice steps to look forward to. Taking our team photo at the summit sign and then a long, long descent in to Garrigill. We remember the long down hill drag fondly from before as after what felt like hours of climbing we were finally ticking off the miles. However setting off this time we knew it was going to be different, Andy set off quickly and keeping up with him was a task. The headwind was making the descent a pedalling affair and not much fun. Soon however I was catching Andy up as was no longer pedalling and just taking the freewheel ride down. Passing him he shouted through the wind about struggling with traction. Spinning his legs I could see what he was on about, his legs were on but his cogs weren’t home. We all pulled over as the route took us off the main road and paused to look at the problem.

Neil, Jon and I thought about the problem and came up with two solutions:

- Andy could walk for an hour or so to the nearest pub and my Dad could pick him up. He was at the football so it would be quite a few hours from now. Andy could at least watch the last day of the football league unfold.

- Andy could walk for an hour or so to the nearest pub and then order a taxi to take him to the nearest bike shop.

By the time our great minds had come up with this Spanners had taken the wheel off and had a screwdriver at the innards of Andy’s bike. Poking about at the rear cassette (the rear cog thing so I gather) we could only watch on in wonder and awe. We had no idea what he was doing and he would probably modestly say that neither did he but clearly he did. All of a sudden he had the wheel responding to the cassette again and we were very excited that he’d fixed it. However not happy with how it was then responding he took it apart again. This turned out not to be his smartest move as he then chased ball bearings across the tarmac that dropped out. Painstakingly putting them back in he put the cassette on again, only this time it didn’t work. Not knowing which way it tightened he tried one way with the screwdriver and then the other.

Next we needed oil. Who had oil? Anyone? We had enough sugar to sink a ship but nothing oil based. Or did we? Neil suggested sun cream. So Spanners is there putting one ball bearing after another back in to Andy’s bike, coated in sun cream as teams of riders road up past us. As it got on to an hour later we were finally cheering and hugging Rich as he got Andy’s bike going again. It might not have had his lower gears which may make going up steep hills but we could get going again. The only problem was that a brief look on our phones found that the nearest bike shop on route was just the other side of Garrigill, UP over the other side.

The hill out of Garigill was a hill I’d not forgotten and had in fact being psyching myself up for. I knew it was after Hartside and was the climb that had stopped us getting to the pub before it stopped serving food last time. There wasn’t a danger of us going without food at this point, it was still only early afternoon unless Andy’s bike gave in of course. Last time we’d come off the long, sweeping descent from Hartside and hit the wall that is the bottom of the climb and a wall mentally as we had to walk pretty much all of it.

As we came down towards the climb we all let Andy push on just in case anything went wrong. Andy and Jon hit it first with Neil and Rich just ahead of me. As I turned the corner in to the steep climb I could see Andy stopped ahead taking off layers. Spinning my legs quickly I closed the few yards to Neil and Rich and pushed on towards Andy at the side of the road. At first I thought we’d all be stopping with Andy but looking back everyone else seemed to be pushing on so I did the same. I opened up a gap on Rich and thought that would be it, I’d be away. However as the road continued to climb I turned and could see Rich slowly closing the gap. I pushed on, now the early exertion and steep ramp at the start we starting to tell. Again Rich closed and before we crossed the road (B6277) he was beside me. We crossed together and we were both at our limit, neither wanting to cede ground.

The previous year Rich had left me for dead on Holme Moss, asking me to come round him on a steep climb I had burnt myself out early on and never recovered. There weren’t those doubts in my mind this time, I was going to keep with him until the top. Dropping in behind him I let him lead and sat on his wheel, occasionally coming level with him as the gradient eased. Riding side by side I could see another sharp rise in the road ahead, I had to be ready to spin my legs through the climb to keep with him. As we hit the base of the incline I increased my cadence and pulled away from him, across another shallow rise to a steep section again. Once more I span my legs and I was away, the elastic had snapped and I could see the summit. Giving everything I had I finished flat out, cresting the hill breathless but happy in the sunshine.( You can view the climb and its gradients on http://veloviewer.com/segment/4140450/Garrigill+climb a wonderful web site set up by a gentleman named Ben Lowe from Sheffield.)

Rich drawing up beside me only a short time later gave us time to hatch a plan, Rich would ride down to the bike shop in Nenthead and explain the issue with Andy’s bike and see if he could help. I’d wait for the others and then we’d meet him down there. It had never occurred to me that Andy’s bike could have failed again and luckily it hadn’t. I can’t imagine what that hill must have been like without the full range of gears but he certainly didn’t make as much of it as we had seven years ago. It was just a question now of whether he could make it down the steep descent to Nenthead, oh and whether a small bike shop in the middle of nowhere has the right parts for his bike.

Arriving at the bottom we were greeted by Spanners telling us the man in the bike shop could fix it. So we had no choice but to sit in the pub and have a bite to eat and a drink. This was a really pleasant experience, we could sit in the sun, eat a baguette and Andy could even enjoy a pint of Timothy Taylor’s Landlord while wearing his cycling jersey of the same brand.

The man at the bike shop was an absolute star, a real bike lover and an old school teacher. You could tell he just loved working with bikes, talking about bikes and being around other people who liked bikes. We chatted outside and inside his shop as he worked. Parts, boxes, magazines and postcards scattered around his small shop / workshop it was a fascinating place. He’d been cycling in Peru and his favourite place was New Zealand from what I remember.

He explained what was wrong with Andy’s bike and also what was right. Turns out Shimano something or others are better than the other type you can get. As he found another fault with the bike he then overheard us talking about Viz and brought out his own copy for us to read. He charged a very reasonable rate for parts and labour to say we were in the middle of nowhere and he could have  charged whatever he wanted. We were happy we were back on the road, Andy had new parts on his ten year old bike and the bike shop man moved on to the guy next to us to discuss his bike.

As the C2C is a popular route we often pass and are passed by the same people. Often riding in groups there are charity rides and friends like us out on a ride. We’d been passed by a group of guys all riding Genesis bikes at Hartside, they were all working their way through pint after pint at the pub. Another group of Scottish riders were riding in charity t-shirts and one guy warned us the hill we were now about to climb out of Nenthead was the worst of the lot. After getting him to repeat this a few times and deciphering his thick Scottish accent I worked out that it’s 1.5 miles of climbing. Surely not, how can that be?! Of course we’d finished here on day two last time and that first climb was straight after breakfast when we were at our strongest. I wasn’t prepared for this, I’d given my all on the climb out of Garrigill and now I had to do it again.

It was now 3pm and the mechanical issues had sapped quite a bit of time out of our day. We’d cycled 30 miles and still had another 30 to go. Admittedly apart from this climb we were pretty sure it was an easier second half left and we should make good time. Jon was always a good voice in these situations, often optimistic with timings and usually not that far out. The previous night he’d been out by an hour and a half but his optimism probably stopped it being two hours.

We now had full fat coke and white carbs inside us, it was time to press on. Jukebox led the way and he was off, Rich following him. Andy and I riding side by side as team Genesis passed us on their bikes, no panniers of course but pints to carry. They also didn’t have far to go for their evening meal, stopping in Allenheads just up the road that night.

Whether it was the energy from the pub or wanting to get to our accommodation in good time I don’t know but Neil pushed on, even on the descent he was ticking the miles off. We soon passed the place where we stopped for lunch last time, astounded that we’d stopped so soon after breakfast we’d obviously either found the climb harder last time or they’d let me listen to my stomach. As Neil set the tempo in the valley (any excuse from me to make it sound like we’re in the Tour de France) we reached a café where we stopped last time (did we do any riding?) and Neil was waiting for us.

That led us on to another climb, do they ever stop coming? This was actually my favourite climb of the weekend, I’d just finished yet another fun size Mars Bar and was in the mood for it. The road out of Allenheads (I struggle typing that, I hate where an extra ‘S’ is added where it shouldn’t be, it’s Tesco not Tescos, ASDA not ASDAs and yet it is Allenheads we’d agreed before we got there). Anyway, the road out of Allenheads is a beautiful climb, snaking through trees before bringing you out on to the tops above the trees. Amazingly it has its own ski / snowboarding centre so it must be pretty high. On the ride itself I had Jukebox and Spanners chasing me and I really pulled away from them opening up a sizeable gap, more proof that I’d trained well for the ride and was doing well. Or so I thought. Having seen video footage since the ride I now know that Rich was videoing as he rode and Neil looked like he was out for a casual jaunt, sat up vertical on his seat with one arm down by his side. Still it felt good.

Sheltering from the wind on the top, we worked out we just had one climb to do. An off road section that took us up to an old railway type station on the moors. As we dropped down in to Rookhope we knew that this was it. Signposted off the road we took a quick comfort break and set off uphill yet again. Only it wasn’t that easy, the surface was not suited to our thin tyres. We may have been riding hybrids and mountain bikes but everyone was on thinner tyres for the roads. Slipping everywhere we went from side to side trying to find a better line. Spanners led the way and I tried to follow. Faltering on the surface Jukebox passed me and Jon and Andy closed in. With no other choice and unable to continue Andy, Jon and I pushed our bikes. As the other two pedalled they kept the same pace as us on foot, the conditions not allowing them to pull away. 13% gradients and rocks don’t make easy riding.

As the gradient eased so did the surface and they started to pull away. Jumping back on (it was easier to ride than push) I set off after them. As with other climbs, the top never reveals itself until you get closer. Riding up Neil and I were struggling, I was trying to keep going as long as he did. Agreeing we only had to get to the pile of rocks we could see at the top. Thighs were now burning as we fought our bikes and the hill. Still a rocky surface it was the hardest I'd had to push and with the summit so close to our grasp we couldn't stop. With a consistent 12% gradient on an uneven surface there was no surprise we were on empty when we got to the top of the climb. Collapsing with an Aldi or Lidl version of a Snickers bar (swaps are great in these situations) I knew we were pretty much done for the day.

Heading down from that high point, we were on a rough, raised stone dirt path / road. Bone jangling and concentration sapping it was hard going. Jon, Rich and Andy made good headway and Neil and I steadily followed, struggling to maintain a fast pace that the descent should have served up. After a short while we crossed a road and we were now on a surface more akin to a goats trail than a cycle path. With our pedals catching every so many yards it was all we could do to stay on and keep progressing. Constantly choosing the best track and regretting it twenty yards further on. It started to get wetter and soon coming around a corner we were faced with a big puddle to get through (I'd make it sound more manly but it was just a puddle really). Going through half of us managed to end up with a wet foot or two. It didn't seem to matter. We knew it was downhill all the way to Consett now and soon we were on proper cycle paths. Riding all together the conversation turned to food and Chef and I discussed the prospect of a Chinese that night.

Not much later we were getting text messages saying my Dad was at the accommodation, it couldn't be far now. Getting this close to stopping always made the last miles hard, every turn you're longing for it to end, it wasn't challenging any more, just a drag to the end. We reached the point at which we needed to turn off the official route and what a treat we were in for. All down hill in to Allensford, a great long ride downhill hitting some great speeds, down, down, down. Wait a minute, what's this? Uphill? Steep uphill? Right in to the accommodation? That's not on! Still within minutes we were at the front door of our luxury accommodation, all booked at a bargain price - thank you AirBnB.

With the "love bus" and our chauffeur now with us we had the choice of any Chinese restaurant. We chose the one with the best reviews and headed out. However seeing the prices inside we ate our complimetary prawn crackers and got up to leave. You can take the boys out of Yorkshire... The hostess quickly called us back with a 30% discount for takeaways and we were happy! Two pints later and plenty of the best prawn crackers (ever) we had our takeaway. Wanting to grab some takeaway beers on the way back we stopped at a Tesco Express and ended up with discounted hot cross buns and cookies we didn't need - you can take the boys...

C2C Day One Again - Some Things Never Change

So you've met the Team Pannier Six before but now one of them has got a bit older, thinner on top, considerably taller and wears a 'tache. Or more accurately, John AKA Dancing Bear put career ahead of enjoyment and we were a man down. Quicker than you can say "grave", "jump" and "in", we offered up his prepaid accommodation to our chauffeur for the weekend, my Dad, Ced.

Off we set at a ridiculously early time. Well 8am. That would have been considerably early back in 2009 when we last did this ride, only this time we were doing it a little differently. Older and a little wiser we were hoping to not get lost and do it in two and a half days this time. This was compared to three and a half days last time and they were well packed days with twelve hours in the saddle on two of them!

So our early departure this time was not on the bike but was in the love bus, our mini bus hired with trepidation, hoping we could fit 7 people and 6 bikes in. As you now know, Dancing Bear's absence gave us extra room and the panic was over. Vanilla and Jukebox stripped out the seats and the bus and Team Pannier were a perfect match.

Trekking up north, we had no idea how we would fair this time. What we did know is that some things don't change and I was thinking about my stomach and planning food stops on the way up. What kind of pit stop strategy would we be engaging, a one, two or three stops?

I'd like to say, "soon we were in Whitehaven" but we weren't. We had many miles to cover and travelling the route in the opposite direction we'd be cycling didn't help either. Arriving at Penrith having still not cycled a mile and knowing we had to be back there that night was not ideal. Neil and Ced had been sharing the driving and as Ced did the last leg he gave us the option of getting out early at Penrith and saving ourselves some pain. We joyfully turned him down and headed to the start of the C2C.

Unloaded and no doubt breaking some traffic laws by parking in a pedestrian area, we were ready for the photoshoot. That was after we'd hunted for a toilet (they'd got rid of the public ones since we last were there) and spent a long time getting ready for departure. With our back wheels in the sea, 3-2-1 we were back on the trail to Sunderland. That's right, this time we were going to the original end of the C2C, no visit to Newcastle and Tynemouth this time. Yet some things never change, within minutes of leaving we were stopping for one thing and then another - including toilet breaks, having still not found a public toilet.

There's always something 'technical' that's not quite right at the start, a seat too high, a squeaky wheel, a faulty phalange etc. Well Andy (AKA Vanilla Stripe) had issues with his new pannier bags and pannier rack. He had been singing the praises of Aldi's gear on the way up but soon we were riding back towards Whitehaven looking for a missing bracket at two miles an hour. After not finding the needle in the haystack, Spanners came to the rescue with what is the cycling's equivalent of Blue Peter's sticking back plastic - a cable tie.

Looking at the start of the route it was a steady uphill for the first ten miles and yet with our enthusiasm and our services Greggs inside us we didn't even notice. By the time we hit High Lorton however we were ready for some refreshment and a village store sign pointed the way. Walking in to the most perfect village store in a wood log cabin style building we saw the idealistic rural village setup. Money on the counter left from the previous customer as clearly the shop owner was on the phone. We took some of the home-made cooked goods on the counter and did a runner! Not really, we left our money, motioned to the owner what we were doing and stepped outside. As we filled our boots on the most wonderful chocolate brownie / rocky road / tiffin we could even fill our bottles up at the signposted tap around the back. Not content on just one piece, Spanners nipped back in for a further two bricks of sugary explosion. It turns out the whole village were addicted to the stuff and it was made by the 'chef' at the school - clearly the shop keeper was off the phone when he went back in.

We knew from there it was on to Whinlatter Pass, the first climb of the ride so far and just one of the two that we'd heard about before we did the original ride back in '09. From somewhere we'd heard that it compared to Hartside as the hardest on the whole route, yet we'd found it fairly easy last time despite having had a drink at the time (I'd only had a pint, some of the others were riding on two pints and a whiskey chaser).

One thing that the two climbs did have in common was that they snook up on you, you started climbing before you knew you had reached the bottom. Little 'undulations' that added up and before you knew it you were out of breath and fearing the main event. Yet that's the thing, that's what makes these climbs hard. Steady and sapping. Looking at Strava I make it out to be 3 miles of climbing.

On the officially diverted route due to unstuiatable surface it started off sharp and steep, followed by some false flat and an endless, breathless, wait for the climb to start. As we finally headed off the main road on to the off road track we felt like we were properly hitting the climb. A rough track made up of stone that had clearly seen lots of HGVs rolling over it, it was fine for their big wheels, a bit trickier for ours. Spanners attacked the climb, spinning those big old legs of his, I (Little Horn) chased with Jukebox not far behind. Slowly I closed the gap and eventually edged ahead just before the steep climb flattened out. As we dropped the tricky surface certainly wasn't straight forward and Spanners bombed pass - clearly his bigger balls giving him more speed on the descent. That and his better bike handling.

As it lifted again I thought "I've brought him back once, I can do it again". How wrong I could be, I managed to start bringing him back but Spanners better bike handling again gave him an advantage as we hit shoe deep mud. How do I know it was shoe deep? Because I was pushing through it as Jukebox pulled up behind me. We all gathered at the end of that section with only Spanners having got through it without pushing. Andy had taken a hit, we're not really sure how big as he had what appeared like tractor marks on his back. He never did really explain what happened to him when he came off.

Andy's Tyre Marks Shown Clearly On His Back

It was very much a case of checking our brakes after that before a descent in front of us. We hadn't been through a car wash but we definitely needed to check those pads and discs before leaving the green light. This was even more evident as we went past the point where Spanners went over his handle bars last time. We may have been laughing about it but we all concentrated on the decent - an off road section which was more suitable to mountain bikes tyres than the slicks we were riding on.

It was now after 4pm and we still had half of the day's miles ahead of us. However, apart from an unknown detour towards the end we were pretty confident the hardest climbing was done. However we hadn't eaten anything substantial since the services on the way up and entering Keswick we knew just where to call.

Ever since we'd started the ride we'd been saying "last time we did this", "last time we did that", it had started to become "this one time at bandcamp" and poor Andy was probably tired of it. He'd been polite, listened to our stories and nodding despite having heard them before. However I think he liked our knowledge as we led him to a pub with a decent  pub garden, real ale on tap and FOOD! We had a small bar snack ("Mega Lasagne"/chicken burger/chips) and a drink. This time we knew this pub wasn't our last stop and we certainly weren't round the corner from our bed for the night. We'd save ourselves for our curry later.

Coming out of Keswick there was a little kick up to a stone circle, something I'd got used to seeing in the south-west but didn't realise how many there were in the north. Always glad to have an excuse to stop at the top of a kicker we had a mini photoshoot by the stones before pushing on.

And push on we did, the next fifteen miles were pretty tough. As we got closer to Penrith we needed to deviate for a couple of reasons. Firstly there was a bridge out of action and a diversion would be in place any way. Secondly our accommodation was based the other end of town from the cycle route so in theory it made more sense to take a direct route to the hotel.

After a period of off road paths and fields (often shared with ewes protecting their lambs) we started to zig zag around roads to keep off the main road. They were sapping to the legs but they were doing a lot more damage to our minds as time after time we turned away from the direct route and hit another hill. Jukebox kept us going with a rendition of Lump by The Presidents of the United States, think it was something to do with a "boggy marsh". Chef and I chatted at the back as we hit another gradual climb, a conversation of what would we have at the curry house later keeping us entertained for another mile or two. I was now very jealous of his mega lasagne and wish I'd gone for more than just the chips in Keswick.

Neil (Jukebox) had warned me that we needed to travel down to Pooley Bridge first before we could head on to Penrith. This, I gathered was a bad thing and something Neil was not keen to do. Not that there was an alternative but a mental block I think. It was now getting harder by the minute as our energy reserves were running down and time was ticking on.

Back home it was the kid's bed time and I was keen to call home before it was too late. Spotting my opportunity I pushed ahead on a climb to buy myself time. Panting and sweating at the top of what turned out to be the last, tough hill I grabbed my phone quickly. *no service*. Thankfully my phone came to its senses as I dialled. It didn't matter though, all I got was an answer phone. So leaving what can only have sounded like a heavy breathing pest message I jumped alongside everyone else to try to bash out the last however many miles.

The problem with going off route means you can no longer rely on Sustrans to have planned the route to not be too undulating. It also means you don't know exactly how many miles are still to go and have to keep stopping to check Strava to make sure we're on route. This, the lateness in the day, and breathing difficulties had worn Neil down completely. Whether he was just trying to give Vanilla his own bandcamp moment but Neil flashed-back to our first ride and proclaimed he couldn't make the last 7 miles.

As always we're a team, Team Pannier leaves no man behind and we all struggle at some point. The back seat is taken up by all of us at some point and no one bitches about waiting as we know around the next corner it might be us. So again we pulled together, Andy with his medical training gave Neil some steroids (AKA he let him use his inhaler). And that seemed to do it, Neil was soon off the front guiding us to the meca that was Travelodge.

This was not the time then to get my call returned from home, riding up a slight rise in the road I answered on speaker phone. I probably sounded the same as my answer-phone message and we decided to end the call. How my wife believes that I'm away at a cycling weekend and not some deep breathing weirdo thing I'll never know.

As we questioned Rich and Strava's ability to get us to our bed for the night he came back with some sort of phrase that suggested we could spit on it, or something, from where we were. Sure enough by the time we'd got around the corner Jukebox was stood outside Travelodge. At half past eight we'd finally made it to Penrith, the same place we'd passed through all those hours previously.

The inside of a Travelodge never feels like a new experience and when we've got inside the room the only difference is where we plug in our devices. A quickish turnaround saw us in a taxi driven by a very well dressed and polite local. Agreeing with our choice of Indian restaurant he dropped us at the door. An hour and a half later and he was picking five full and tired men up and taking them back from they came. Pointing out where to go for breakfast he earned his tip and we'd earned our sleep.

Discovery Road - Book Review

I have just finished Discovery Road and thoroughly enjoyed it. It is very much in the same vein as Why Don't You Fly and the excellent Thunder & Sunshine / Moods of future joys. The difference being that this is written by two guys (three of them started the trip) and the real joy is that they seemed to enjoy it and really took the adventurous nature of it in.

The challenge was to cycle across three continents unaided and therefore cycle around the world. They may not have ridden unaided but they didn't camp out in the open quite as often as Alistair in Thunder and Sunshine but that's just sensible isn't it. I guess I could relate to these guys a lot more (if you can relate to someone who gives up work and cycles around the world). Even when there was a lot of conflict during the the first stretch as they cycled across Australia with one of their ex-girlfriends (when did they ever think that was a good idea) they still portrayed a sense of adventure and enjoyment to the reader. There was humour throughout the book and they found joy in so many different situations. It's a big book (it took them each 6 months to write it) yet I still didn't want it to end. It was like a Team Pannier coast to coast to trip amplified by one million times.

I recommend you read this if you like travel and cycling, it's a corking read to dream to...

Way of the Roses Day 3: York to Bridlington

"No Dad I can't talk I'm going around a roundabout... well we're meeting you at the end, wherever that is"

Day 3 started like all the other days, stuffing our faces with as much food as possible and then watch Neil pump up his rear tyre as the slow puncture took effect overnight. The weather was still holding and we were hoping we could race ahead of it all the way to Bridlington. We knew we had a pretty flat day ahead of us with only a small bump in the middle of the day.

We pushed on, wanting to get the miles done as quickly as possible but sadly it wasn't quite the easy ride of the previous afternoon. Every so many miles we'd turn in to a head wind and suddenly we found it sapping our legs. While Spanners pushed on as he had done the whole trip my legs were having none of it and groaned every time I tried to raise the tempo. Taking my turn at the front of the Pannier Train in to another wonderful patch of headwind I pushed through through the pain, leaving myself empty as the others had no problem holding my wheel.

All morning it went on like that. A quick stop at Judson's Wine Bar in Pocklington didn't make me feel any better as Rich tucked in to a pint of his favourite bitter - it wasn't even lunch time yet, even Chef questioned him so it must have been early! I was hoping a cranberry juice would free my radicals or whatever it is that it's supposed to do.

Sadly setting off I discovered that it hadn't rejuvenated me and the pint certainly hadn't slowed Rich down. There's nothing worse than being at the back on a bike ride, everyone is pulling away from you while waiting for you at the same time. They're wanting to make progress and you're just struggling to turn the pedals. Jukebox kept me company but as soon as the road started to rise I just went backwards. We've been doing this long enough to know that everyone has a bad day now and again but it doesn't help when you're at the back and everyone is being so polite about it.

As we hit the hill to Huggate I just wanted to get off and walk but the road was barely rising, it would have been painfully slow and embarrassing. Jukebox kept dropping back to keep me going and as the pint hit Rich's bladder and they took a comfort break I pushed on up the hill with Jukebox. Reaching the top of the hill I actually dropped Jukebox which is not the polite thing to do when he's been waiting for you all morning but once you're in a rhythm you can't stop. Thankfully it was then downhill to Hutton Cranswick, where we stopped for lunch.

When I read Aron Ralston describe cutting his hand off in Between a Rock and A Hard Place, he said about the first pool of water he came across as being the best tasting water. He later went back to look at the water and it was the murkiest, dank water he'd seen - I think it even had a dead bird in it. Well Hutton Cranswick was like that for me. To stop for one hour and have a picnic by a pond was the best relief for me.

We basically raided the local Spar shop and had some baguettes, crisps and fizzy drinks but seemingly that was all I needed. We set off again and I was a changed man or more accurately my legs were like new. Suddenly I could keep the other guys wheels. I felt like a bit of a fraud, suddenly I could go up what little hills there were in a flash. I could have kept riding all the day. We hit the last few bumps and I raced up them past Rich who laughed and told me to piss off, I wasn't sure if that was because he'd been waiting for me all day or that his legs were now feeling three days effort but it certainly felt better being within earshot of the other guys. I'd been so preoccupied with my own woes I never thought any of the others could have been suffering. Yet Jon had mentioned aches and pains from carrying his luggage in a rucksack rather than panniers and Neil had certainly had a hard first day. Maybe I wasn't the only one.

As we headed in to Bridlington, Neil regaled us about his childhood holidays in Bridlington. I asked him if it had changed much and he said he didn't know as he was mainly by the seafront and it was a long time ago (one of the reasons Neil gave for his difficult first day was that he was the oldest in the group - I have 8 years on him) and then going around another roundabout someone in the team asked "are we going the right way". All of a sudden the penny had dropped, were we just following cycle route signs and no longer heading for the end of the Way of the Roses? Luckily we were fine and within seconds were heading to the seafront. Just as my Dad rings wanting to know where to meet us. As I explained we'd meet him at the end of the route, he pointed out there wasn't anything telling him where the end was.

Well we found it and eventually so did my Dad, the sign may say 170 miles but with a detour to Earby ours clocked in at 200, dead on. I can say that it was my favourite and the best C2C yet. The weather, the route, everything was perfect. What next? Well we could have ridden this one on a road bike so maybe next time we'll all have drop-handle bikes - or will we be dusting off the same two wheelers having not ridden them for a year? Probably the later but you never know.

Way of the Roses Day 2: Earby to York

And at that moment Spanners knew our Coast To Coast ride was over

We've been fairly lucky on our expeditions so far - expeditions is probably making us sound more intrepid than we are but still over all the miles we've covered we've not had many mechanical failures. Chef got a flat as we dipped our back wheels in at the end of our first C2C and his panniers fell apart early on that same trip but they were easily overcome and we've not really had any big problems. Not until Day 2 of the Coast to Coast, a beast of a day. Hilly in the morning and miles and miles to cover in the afternoon. In fact this was due to be our longest ever day in the saddle with 80 miles to cover.

As the route skirted Grassington we headed up and down the rolling hills. At our level of cycling (truly amateur) your ability to get up hills is often dependent on you hitting the right gear at the right time. Myself and Spanners came down a short decline and both tried to hit the hill at the same time. I smugly went pass Rich as he shouted "balls" as his gears and chain clunked and clicked as he tried to find any gear he could. The clunk and click turned to a crunch as Rich ground to halt and shouted a lot worse than balls.

I assumed his chain had come off and kept pedaling for 200 yards. Then it became clear that it was more than just a slipped chain. His chain had snapped, a brake in the chain that Rich knew he couldn't fix. Despite his Spanners nickname, he'd trimmed down on the amount of tools, nuts, bolts and general weight he'd carried with this time. Yet this didn't matter as he'd never carried anything to fix a broken chain with him in the past and certainly hadn't got anything now.

At this point he knew there was nothing he could do. Even if he could push to Grassington or we could ride there, get supplies and get back it would still put us back hours that we didn't have to spare. Neil and Jon were not long behind and soon took in the grave situation. "I've got the tool to fix the chain" said Spanners "but I don't have a spare link". "Oh I've got one of those" said Jon. Well we thought Spanners was going to make love to him there and then, from desperation to elation in five minutes Spanners was happy as anything as he set to work on fixing his stead.

Happy as a pig in mud or a biker with chain muck on his hands Spanners set off with his bike back in full working order. The pace had been steady all morning, knowing that we had a fairly bumpy morning, a big climb before Pately Bridge and then lunch after medium climb out of Pately Bridge it was going to be flat all the way to York.

The climb before Pately Bridge certainly didn't disappoint and this time the whole team were up to the challenge. It's amazing what a days cycling in your legs can do for you. While the legs felt yesterdays work they also had more to give and we all pushed on, keen to get a photo at the highest point of the route.

We stopped at each point that seemed the summit, ready for that much sought after photo. We remembered from our early plans that Nidderdale was a point of reference so we had our picture there. Was that it? Nope.

Surely Highpoint View, a farm, was the highest point?

Each corner we came around there was another short incline, nothing testing, just frustrating as we tried to have that photo to celebrate the metres we'd climbed since we left Morecambe and sea level. In the end we never got that photo, as we crested what turned out to be the top of the hill there wasn't anywhere to stop and we were already thinking of lunch - or I was, as I became known as "Stomach".

Heading down in to Pately Bridge is some ride, I certainly wouldn't want to do it in wet conditions. I seem to remember in a blur Neil and Jon missing a corner and having to adjust as they came down. It is unbelievably steep and I couple only tip my hat/helmet as I saw riders at the bottom setting off to climb it.

Arriving at Pately Bridge we hunted down the local chippy and tucked in to protein and carbs washed down with energy water. Well that's what we told our bodies as we enjoyed a deep fried feast. I later found out that my Grandad used to go cycling with the owner of the chippy years and years ago. There are only hills out of the place as far as I can work out so they must have had some good cycling miles in their legs.

After the short climb out of Pately Bridge we were on to the promised flat heading to East Yorkshire. Having had constant climbing since we left the seaside we were enjoying the flat for a change and soon were in Team Pannier train mode. Slip streaming each other in a long line, getting the miles in the bag while the weather was on our side.

The weather had been fantastic so far and watching forecasts we could see there was a bad weather front chasing us, we needed to keep moving. For now though even the wind was behind us and we sat comfortably at higher speeds than we ever used to travel at. With less weight on our bikes and an understanding of what's involved we were able to tick off those miles comfortably. You wouldn't have thought it was going to be our furthest day in the saddle.

There wasn't much else to tell from that point onward, we simply churned through the miles and in really good time we arrived at York. Well that's how it seems now looking back on it but as the picture above shows we were a bit tired when we hit Ripon for a quick ice cream / banana stop. Getting in to York was easy. We even found the Purple Palace easily after brief directions from a bus driver. The Premier Inn was just next to the route and that felt really comforting after the detour of the day before. After depositing our bikes in the rooms and a quick change we were out in the neighbouring pub with a taxi ordered to take us in to town.

Quite why Neil was kissing Jon's head I have no idea, maybe it was in celebration of completing 80 miles, maybe it was finding a great spot in the sun to have a beer or maybe it was for convincing me and my stomach to put off food for one more beer. It was a late night by the time we'd finished our Chinese banquet and got our taxi home but the hardest two days were done and it was due to be pretty flat in to Bridlington the next day.

Way of the Roses Day 1: Morecambe to Earby

"That Hill Can F*$k Off"
Not my words but as the "all the gear no idea" lycra clad cyclist spouted his venom as he reached the brow of the hill I couldn't help but agree with the sentiment. We'd just climbed the steepest part of, what we would later find out to be a category three climb. Using the same classification that they use in the tour that makes it the fourth toughest type of climb in the world ever! "Is that all" was our response as we'd just climbed what felt like a sheer cliff face.

Earlier that day it had been a now customary send off by putting our back tyres in the sea at beautiful Morecambe. An easy, traffic free ride led us out of Morecambe and in to Lancaster and to an historic waterfront where, and I have this on high authority, Spanners once went jogging. It's true I tell you, of the two times in his life he's taken to pounding the streets, one was along the same path we were now powering along.

Team Pannier had come a long way since our first C2C venture in 2009 and so has cycling. On our first trip we came across a couple of organised charity groups and a few true bike nutters but that was about it. Now bikes were everywhere and you could tell, the locals seemed bored welcoming us."Oh here's another group who think they're the first in the world to do this trip" - they didn't say it but you could see it in their eyes. We'd meet other cyclists and say we're on the Way of the Roses, they'd look at us gone out and say "we are too" as in, why the hell do you think I'm up this big hill in the middle of nowhere.

Coming in to Clapham (Clapham, Lancashire, not the Clapham district in London) we soon realised the true popularity of the route. We pulled up to New Inn, a pub overlooking the river. Spying a perfect spot we parked the bike as Spanners went to recon the food situation. Coming back he declared the landlord was a grumpy bugger (or some other similar rave review of his hospitality) and we decided to try the cafe yards down the road. Seeing cyclists waiting outside for food we were informed they were overrun and so we tried the next place along, cycling really has taken off and taken over the cafes!

Clapham's a picturesque place and the cafe was perfect. Pie and peas for the northern lads, plus real ale on tap for those who wanted it - for the record I stuck to a Gay-2-O. We were ready and loaded and hoping our food had settled by the time we hit, erm Settle.

So out of Settle we hit the aforementioned hill and we had a new leader striking out in front. All morning I had been chasing Spanners and proving that despite all his training I was able to keep up but now as the moment of truth hit me I realised I was no match. Chef, with his bulldog style just dug in behind Spanners and the two of them left myself and Jukebox trailing in their wake.

We've decided that Team Panniers motto is Never Too Proud To Push but it certainly hurt as my pedals would turn no more and I had to dismount as the two front runners headed off and me and Jukebox put in nearly the same amount of effort to push. As me all met up at the middle point of the hill and we were bored by some guy telling us he'd cycled from Blackpool, the bloke did at least make us smile. His mate pulled up who was training for an Iron Man. Carrying a large bag on his bike the Blackpool bore said "alright Arnie? - We call him Arnie 'cause he's brought Danny DeVito on his back". Sadly smiling at his comment meant he stayed around for another 5 minutes to tell us how good he was.

As was the pattern for the first two days we kept passing the same people, and they kept passing us - including "Mr I Cycled From Blackpool". Fat or thin, male or female, fast or slow it always seemed you were catching each other up as one team waited for another or one faded as the other pushed on.

On our first C2C we finished the hard days (47 miles and 63 miles) late at night, ending up at our accommodation around 21.30. So it was looking positive as in the late afternoon sun (we had awesome weather on day one) we turned off the main Way of the Roses route and headed for our accommodation. Jukebox the man with the least amount of training in him* soon declared he didn't have a mile left in him. We knew we had a bit of a detour to the accommodation but there was a debate as to how much and from where the detour started.

The great thing about national cycle routes is that they are designed to be generally flat or at least they seem to dodge the roller-coaster effect that a more direct route can take. As soon as you leave these routes you realise how they protect you from busy traffic and more importantly unnecessary gradients. Having had the wind behind us for the majority of the day we were now facing a steady climb in to the wind.

That mile Jukebox had in him was used over and over again as our moral was dampened knowing we had to retrace any miles we were now riding. It felt worse than it probably was and soon we were riding toward and hopefully in to Earby waiting for a tell-tale establishment that named itself after the area to know we'd arrived. We wanted a Earby Engineering or an Earby Hairdressers, Anything that told us we were in the right place. I think it was Earby Car Sales that confirmed our location but we were soon seeing the layout I'd sussed out on streetview months before. We ticked off the Co-op hopefully the place to purchase our breakfast, Chilli Pepper, the Indian where we would be having tea and of course the local pub - not to mention the newsagent excellently named Have I Got News 4 You.

Within minutes we were at our destination, Earby YHA. Ditching our gear we hit the pub and the curry house. Myself and Jukebox turning in early as Spanners and Chef took in the Champions League final and a few beers as well I'm sure. Day one done and some good miles ticked off.

* Read least amount as none, his bike hadn't been touched and in fact the back tyre was flat as he dug it out days before we left.

Way of the Roses - The New C2C

Back in May we set off for our next coast to coast challenge, the Way of the Roses. A new route taking us from Morecambe, Lancashire (wrong side of the Pennines, I am a Yorkshireman after all) to Bridlington in wonderful Yorkshire. Along the way we would pass from area of outstanding natural beauty in to national park in to area of outstanding beauty and through the true capital of England, York - I'm not sure even I believe that as I type it. Over the next few posts I will breakdown day by day our expedition but here is a basic outline of what we planned to do:

• Drive from Sheffield to Morecambe (with a quick stop over in Holmfirth to pick up the driver* and Spanners).
• Cycle from Morecambe to Earby (Earby slightly off route but all the accommodation was full in Grassington, and Pately Bridge we decided was too far on day one). Staying in the YHA there.
• Cycle from Earby to York. Staying in a Premier Inn right next to the route and then having a night out in York.
• Cycle from York to Bridlington where our driver* would be waiting for us to take us home.

*By driver, we mean our Dad's who kindly volunteered / were roped in to helping us.

C2C Cycling T-Shirts

I've found a place that sells C2C t-shirts and I'm thinking about getting one. Not sure when I'll get chance to wear it (OK I've got an inkling but that's for another post, another time) but I feel like we should have something to wear to show what we've been through / achieved.

They're available from Baytree Press and are £24.99 plus £2.50 delivery. I don't think that's too bad compared to the cost of other cycling jerseys.

and we're off again

After many discussions in pubs and at various weddings and stag dos we've finally decided that we're off again. Well kind of. We're aiming for April next year and the route will be the Devon Coast to Coast. I think. If anybody knows more than that let me know.

Day 5 - I Can See The Sea

Waking knowing they only had a short distance before it was all over filled the team with mixed emotions. Yesterday they'd been able to really enjoy themselves and today it was all to end. With everything they needed in the bunkhouse the Team were able to set off early. Jon had been up for hours and soon had the bikes ready for the final day's ride. Enjoying the luxuries of a TV the team were well aware that rain was predicted within the hour.

Setting off it soon became clear John was struggling. With painful knees he was getting left behind at any slight incline, it was obviously his turn to have the bad day today. Stopping at the petrol station he stocked up on pain killers and the team turned on to route 14 to Newcastle. Riding side by side the team chatted away as they headed towards the east coast. The track was pretty much downhill all the way to Tynemouth, their final destination.

Cycling along the river Derwent the intrepid travellers arrived at the Tyne with Neil leading the singing of the Fog on the Tyne. As it turns out it's all mine, all mine. With a quick check of the map it was up and over the Tyne and alongside it towards Tyne Bridge. Unusually it was Neil rather than John who was keen to stop for a drink and snack. Spotting the Baltic Flour building, Neil cycled across Millennium Bridge and found the last stop before Tynemouth. With coffees and cakes in front of them, the team enjoyed a brief rest. John receiving a text from a friend who had been following their progress. Explaining where the finish line was he joked they should join them for lunch in Tynemouth.

With refreshments on board Team Pannier had one last target, to be in Tynemouth for 1. Where not only would Ced be meeting them but now Steve and Becky were on their way. Being in Tynemouth for one o'clock required them to cover 15 miles in an hour. Could their tired legs handle it? Cycling out of Newcastle and on to Tynemouth was not the picturesque journey the boys imagined. Riding through road works, tired housing and industrial estates was not what they had in mind at all. With tired legs they pedalled on, getting closer and closer to their destination. Well so they thought, the number of miles remaining went up and down as the sign posts varied.

Pulling in to Tynemouth and along side the sea the men (they were no longer boys) rode side by side. It seemed an age to reach the finish and what an anti climax that turned out to be. With only a blue sign, surely this wasn't the way to mark the end of an epic journey. In fact Neil and Rich had to call the other two back as they rode straight past the finish. With the photos taken it was down to the sea, to dip the front wheels in. There may have only been a blue sign to mark the finish but there was also a massive blue sea.

By now they had met up with Ced and he was chief photographer. Team Pannier wanting to capture the moment from every angle despite the lure of beer in the nearby pubs. Then something amazing happened, something that hadn't happen throughout the 167 miles before. They got a flat. Jon, pushing his bike in to the sea had got a puncture. Surely signifying the end of the journey, the four Yorkshiremen had done it. It was then off to the pub and, as they pushed their bikes to the car, Steve and Becky joined them. They were soon sent on their way to scout out pubs for lunch. In the meantime Team Pannier with the help of Ced loaded the bikes on to the car and cracked open the champagne. Well, the Sarah supplied Cava. CHEERS.

With that done it was on to the pub and a couple of beers, food and a change of clothes later they were back on the road. This time it was in the car and to head home. They had done it, they had climbed Skidaw, they'd cycled to the M6, twice and they'd overcome so much. Cycling 167 miles, 30 miles more than the "normal" C2C, Team Pannier had conquered the C2C+

30.61 lovely down hill miles, 169.61 (let's call it 170) miles in total, it's supposed to be 147 miles. 18 hours 37 minutes of riding, 10.7 mph average.

Day 4 - The Biggest Breakfast Ever

After three Wheatabix, two slices of toast and a full English you'd think John would be satisfied. "So where are we stopping for lunch then?". There wasn't a concrete answer so he cycled on up the hill out of Nenthead. Quite a hill to start the day but with the wind behind them the team made quick progress soon reaching the highest point of the C2C.

Rich was tired and cold, he'd had to be coaxed out of his bed after his breakfast. It was his turn to have a bad day after Neil's struggles the day before. He didn't let that stop him bombing down the hills and in to the first coffee shop the team spotted. Caffeine and sugary cakes all round. With only one major hill to go the team were again buzzing and even dreaming of being in Consett before bed time.

Ah, Consett, Team Pannier had been warned of their next finishing point. "You want to lock your bikes up there" "what are you going there for?" "I'd keep riding if I was you". The locals sharing the bunk house the night before certainly didn't have a high opinion about it. Nevertheless the team pressed on, keen to see their accommodation in daylight. Climbing away from their coffee stop they arrived at their second to last major summit. A free wheel for a good few miles saw them arrive at a pub in the sunshine. John of course was the first to venture that they should stop for lunch.

After a swift pint the team sat down to eat beef baguettes with gravy. Neil, causing problems with the waitress for his requests for mustard was soon labelled 'spicy'. As the baguettes were brought out the second waitress turned to Neil and said "oh you must be spicy" much to Neil's enjoyment/embarrassment. The sarnies flew down quicker than the team had done down the hill and conversation was soon taken up with the cyclists on the next table. "Yeah we got lost and ended up in Great Strickland" they said, and one of them had done the C2C before! Then again they were a bit older (see their blog here). Turns out everyone takes that route. With a little pride back in their map reading the team mounted their bikes to leave. Suddenly the bar man ran out of the pub, somebody had forgotten to pay! Searching around for the kitty Rich was unable to find it. Luckily it was sat inside, waiting to pay the bill.

An off road climb was punishment for an enjoyable lunch and it was taken at walking pace to the final summit. Going pass ruins at what appeared an ancient train station. Then a run across a disused railway, really disused, with often no space to pedal for heather. Neil and Jon's bike tyres came in to their own as they dealt easily with the off road. Like an episode of junior kick start the team worked their way through a series of water obstacles and eventually on to the road. With team jukebox Neil singing out the theme tune at the earliest mention. On the road and there was a C2C sign, last services for 10 miles. This was a sight for sore eyes for the boys. They didn't need the services but it meant they were only ten miles from Consett, beer and, a special treat, CURRY. Not daring to dream too much earlier Team Pannier had discussed the possibility of a couple of cheeky beers followed by a curry. First they had to cover 10 miles and, judging by previous performances, this could turn in to 25 miles taking the rest of the day - and night. That wasn't to be the case this time as the team cycled in each others slipstream and gobbled up the miles. The straight, flat track no match for Team Pannier. Stopping only briefly for a viaduct photo op the team arrived at their farm bunk house at four.

Excited by the possibility to 'potter' and just chill out the team eagerly got off the bikes. The owner opened up the bunk house to reveal a brand new building with all the mod cons you could wish for. Told to help themselves to tea, juice and toast the team did just that and dug out the pate they had been carrying since Booths. Showered, changed and raring to go the lads left the farm to see the delights of Consett. With the tip of a local real ale pub Team Pannier wandered in to town. Greeted by signs for Matalan and Morrisons the team had well and truly hit civilisation. Manoeuvring their way past the bank holiday drinkers the team ended up at the desired local pub. With the ales names all related to the local steel industry Jon was keen to know how steel was made. As Neil began to explain, the beer flowed and so did the conversation. Everyone brimming from the cycling done safe in the knowledge there was only an easy ride in to Newcastle left. One pint turned to three and soon it was time to head on to the curry house. Back up the road and past a group of similar looking gents, Team Pannier soon found the Station Road Indian. Destroying the kitty Jon, Rich, Neil and John enjoyed beers, poppadoms, curry and chili nans. Well Neil and Jon were the only ones to suffer the heat of the chili nans. Drinking the curry house dry of beer (it wasn't hard, it only had 8) the team left sated and ready for bed.

Looking out of place dressed up in warm clothes the team walked through Consett towards home. Walking past the local nightclub the boys weren't to be disappointed as Consett lived up to its reputation. No, not women in short skirts, although it had plenty of those, but a fight. One young lad took the force of three others and then got up and did whatever any tough northerner would do in those circumstances. He ran, like the wind. Satisfied they'd seen the sights of Consett the team decided not to stand around and wait for a taxi and walked. Rich by now was walking with his eyes closed as the cycling and beer had caught him up. It was straight to bed for him as Jon and Neil shared Neil's much travelled brandy. John, Jon and Neil enjoyed sitting, watching MotD2 before retiring to their bunks.

27.71 miles, 138 miles in total. 15 Hours 43 minutes of saddle sore, 10.3 average.

Day 3 - Great Strickland

A restless night of sleep was broken by daylight and the first question was raised by Jon. "What are these beds made of, crisps?" He was referring to the noise they made when anyone turned over. We'd all slept in our clothes with hot water bottles to battle the cold but it was the noisy beds that had kept us awake. So much so that when one person got out of bed to go to the toilet the noise started a relay of runners to the toilet. Despite the crisp beds spirits were high and the team look forward to a cooked breakfast - of sorts. For £3 a head the team had been able to buy eggs, bread and beans for breakfast - to be fried of course!

There was no bacon because there wasn't a fridge but there was a selection of yogurts and cereal for those who wanted it. Team Chef Jon cracked (excuse the egg pun) on with the cooking as the team of four monitored their own mini grills to cook their toast. Once filled with breakfast the team washed up and readied their bikes for the day ahead. Setting off down the soft track it wasn't long before there was another fall. John falling sideways down the hill, a really unspectacular fall but a fall none the less. Three down one to go...

Neil was again having problems with his gears and as the team reached a tarmaced track after an hour it was over to Spanners once again. It was slow progress with only 3 miles covered in that first hour. However Martin at the YH had promised downhill all the way back to the C2C route and that soon materialised. The team were now travelling at 25mph and covering distance fast. Before long they were back on route but with this due to be the hardest day there was no time to rest on their laurels. Cycling on they knew their target was Penrith for lunch. An important target for John who always liked to know where his next meal was coming from.

It wasn't long before Team Pannier were again cycling along side other C2Cers. However the team didn't take long to mention they were doing it the hard way, still no other cyclists seemed to have panniers. It was as Penrith got nearer the team passed under the M6, a real milestone in their journey across the country. On entering Penrith the team found a local chippy and soon tucked in to a hard earned lunch. With that done it was quick errand time while in civilisation. Jon nipped to Boots and John nipped to a bike shop to get some more brakes. With the previous days efforts taking their toll on his bike John's brake pads were totally worn away. Of course it was Spanners who helped fit them as well as giving Jon's bike a quick once over. It was soon back on the road and Rich and Jon seemed a lot happier. Mainly due to the fact they had joined John and Neil riding commando.

Riding out of Penrith there was a loud screech as Rich's heavy bike hit the ground right in the middle of town. With a girl laughing loudly it was his pride more than the scrapes on his leg that hurt. Needless to say he wheeled away quickly. Leaving Penrith the two Jo(h)n's headed out up a steep hill with Rich and Neil following behind. It was soon pointed out we'd taken the wrong route. The two Jo(h)ns had followed Route 7 and not route 71. Having not done any map reading they were none the wiser and it was only twenty yards to get back on track. With a good lunch inside them and having passed up on the beer and whiskey chasers the team were powering ahead. Within no time 10/15 miles were covered, stopping only briefly as they came back parallel with the M6. Neil's gears were still not right "you can fiddle with them until the cows come home you'll not get them working". Well that's was just red rag to a bull as far as Spanners was concerned. As everyone topped themselves up on Jon's sugary Maoam sweets Spanners sorted Neil's gears once and for all.

Riding on they came to a little place called Great Strickland which happened to have a pub serving the team's favourite Jennings. Jon and John riding on past the pub were called back by Neil and Rich. Thinking it was a strange time to stop for a beer they reluctantly cycled back to find Neil and Rich pouring over the map. Sure enough route 7 was the correct route out of Penrith. The Jo(h)ns had accidentally taken the right route and Team Pannier had now ridden 10 miles off route. With the team now off the maps they had with them they gathered around a tourist map posted outside the pub. Feverishly taking notes Jon, Neil and Rich plotted a route back on course. John then popped in the pub and appeared moments later with their own copy of the tourist map. No notes needed.

By now the team had drawn attention from the pub and the scouse (we assume) landlord came out. He was not surprised by our predicament and said they get loads of cyclists ending up there when they shouldn't. With a route back to the C2C from the landlord we got on our way. Going over rolling hills and then climbing in to the woods. "Nobody said it was easy" sang the Team Jukebox as Coldplay seemed the order of the day.

Pushing on ahead John cycled up the steep hill in the woods and stopped to wait for the others as he reached some gates at the side of the road. Soon to be joined by Jon they spotted what a nice track it was the other side of the fence. "It looks just like a holiday village" said John. By the time they'd been joined by the others the penny dropped, Whinfell Forest said the sign, we're at Center Parcs! Loaded up on more sugary goods the team headed on, down a steep hill with Rich reaching a heady 44.2mph. As the team pounded away on their pedals the miles to Penrith came down. Getting back on track was demoralising, seeing Penrith 6,5,4 1/2, 4 miles. Team Pannier really started to motor determined to get back on route as quick as possible.

Around 5 as the football scores came in the team finally got back on track. Stopping at a pub for brief refreshments there was still no sign of beer as the team had learnt from the lessons learned the day before. Knowing they had a long way to go the team phoned loved ones and then set out again towards the biggest climb they had faced so far. There was a long way to go, leaving the pub behind after 5. Had they kept on the right track they would have been in the same position two hours earlier. It was then up and down, up and down, Team Pannier cursed every downhill knowing the height they had just gained had been wasted. At 6.30 the team started to climb with a feeling this was it, this was the hill. With the knowledge that there was a cafe at the top of Hartside but it was now closed did not help. The start of the climb was tough, straight up, with only a bit of winding road to hide the summit. Coming round one corner, there it was, the cafe, not in front of us but high in the distance. The team stopped to regroup and take on supplies. "Shall I take a look at the map" said Neil. Mistake, big mistake. With the time now at 7 and a lot of the climb plus many more miles to go Neil was desolate. "I'm worried we'll not make it we'll die of htpothermia" said Neil. "Don't worry" said Jon, "we can stop in the next village and get accommodation there". "But we did try there" Neil replied, "and it was all full". Jon then took the map and predicted we'd be at our destination by 9.30. Wishful thinking the rest of us thought. John reassured Neil he would get him there in one piece, installed as team psychologist and masseur he would get Neil's legs working again in the morning.

So the team started again on the hill, the road switching back on itself many times ahead. Cars making slow progress themselves in the distance. A camper van passed with empty bike racks on the back, each member of the team thinking to themselves about hitching a ride. As we climbed the road was not as steep and the wind picked up - in our favour. Pushed on by the wind we made quicker progress than we thought and reached the summit to see a welcome sign "Cafe Open". Sadly the joy was not long in our minds as it was clearly shut. Sheltering from the wind behind the cafe we put on extra layers and got out what food we had. Oatcakes, houmous and a pack of crisps. Devoured in seconds we were soon on a houmous high if there can be such a thing. Knowing we had another big climb left to go there was talk of one person going on ahead and the food order in at the pub near our accommodation. With no one feeling up to the task we motored on "they'll be an all night garage we'll pass" said Jon thinking we were heading in to London.

The ride down from the cafe was 4 miles of the best pick-me-up the team had had. Averaging 25mph the team soon swallowed up the miles. Suddenly there was a belief we'd make it in time to put our food order in. Arriving in Garrigill the team passed a pub, cyclists squinting out of its window in to the low sun. Pressing on Team Pannier knew they had one more climb before bed. Not wanting to make the same mistake of stopping before the end as yesterday. Turning the corner they hit a wall, a shear climb out from Garrigill to Nenthead. With all legs tired there was only one option, push. So the team pushed for an hour up a shear hill as the sun set behind them. Passing them were three cyclists, the first they'd seen on the road for hours. Stopping to chat the (pannierless) cyclists told of their challenge, the C2C and back in three days. "Yeah but they haven't got panniers" the team said when they'd gone. With daylight gone the team reached the summit a little after 9. With Nenthead lit up below them they brake squeaked their way down the hill. The noise got a local's attention and he gave directions to the two B's, bed and beer.

Arriving at the Nenthead Mine Museum, site of the night's accommodation, the team found the bunk house locked up. "She said she'd leave the keys on the table" said Rich relaying his earlier conversation with the lady running the place. "But she didn't say which table or where". Luckily a local neighbour had a spare key and sure enough, locked inside on the table was our key. A quick shower and turnaround was suddenly greeted by some other cyclists coming back from the pub. "They're still serving food", "someone just ordered a pizza as we left" they regaled. The team were down there in a shot but sadly to no avail. The kitchen had stopped serving. So Team Pannier sat back and enjoyed a beer, watching Match of the Day and eating 6 packs of crisps, 5 packets of pork scratchings and a packet of nuts. Bon appetit boys. Not quite making it all the way through MotD team Pannier headed by torch light through the freezing cold air to bed. With shared accommodation it wasn't the best night sleep with snoring and any movement keeping the team awake.

63.80 miles today, 111 miles now covered in total. 12 Hours 41 mins on the bike so far. 8.6 mph average