Mungrisdale - Garrigill Friday 6 October
7.30 and we're up and the news is on. The GMTV weather girl's hat is tied to her head by her scarf as she rocks round in a force ten gale and has what appear to be countless buckets of water thrown over her. The forecast is not good and a warning of 70mph winds on exposed places is issued. Sigh.
Luckily our clothes are dry and we set off, in the now predictable and relentless, downpour on an undulating road, which by mid morning has taken us to Greystoke - me Tarzan - and eventually to Penrith. In a bike shop, damp and near useless waterproofs are abandoned, and myself and Nigel purchase new water proof jackets. All the while Simon stares dreamily at a two grand road bike which we virtually have to drag him away from.
7.30 and we're up and the news is on. The GMTV weather girl's hat is tied to her head by her scarf as she rocks round in a force ten gale and has what appear to be countless buckets of water thrown over her. The forecast is not good and a warning of 70mph winds on exposed places is issued. Sigh.
Luckily our clothes are dry and we set off, in the now predictable and relentless, downpour on an undulating road, which by mid morning has taken us to Greystoke - me Tarzan - and eventually to Penrith. In a bike shop, damp and near useless waterproofs are abandoned, and myself and Nigel purchase new water proof jackets. All the while Simon stares dreamily at a two grand road bike which we virtually have to drag him away from.
Nigel & Simon at the famous Hartside Summit
Off we go into the deluge with the knowledge that we're less than an hours ride from the punishing Hartside Height - the highest climb of the journey. The approach is actually very pretty and we spot a good number of low flying buzzards, which alarmingly appear to be circling over us. Hartside soon appears, the countryside becomes more barren, and its heads down as the climb begins into the North Pennines. Predictably, Simon attacks the climb and soon disappears from view, Nigel pulls ahead of me and we both struggle up - breathlessly wheezing and climbing for at least 45 minutes until we reach the café at top. Simon waits, as fresh as he was at the bottom - while Nigel informs me he feels fine and enjoyed the climb, my legs feel like jelly and my lungs appear to have been set on fire. However, we enter the café with self satisfied and healthy glows; all is of course ruined and northern stereotypes met by us collectively ordering pie, chips and gravy.
Meal finished, pictures taken and customary banter with the owners over - we start our, very fast, descent into Garrigill our next place of residence. This takes me slightly longer then my care free colleagues who descend with manic abandon, while I take a more sedate 'senior citizen' style approach.
About 5 ish we arrive at the Old Post Office in Garrigill, a quaint village. The owners turn out to be very pleasant if not a little over enthusiastic at putting up signs. The bathroom contains over 12! and the quirkiness is compounded when it turns out that we have to watch the same TV channel as them. That night we return early from a satisfyingly good pub meal and beers to watch telly, only to find they've turned it off and gone to bed. Doh. An early night it is.
Meal finished, pictures taken and customary banter with the owners over - we start our, very fast, descent into Garrigill our next place of residence. This takes me slightly longer then my care free colleagues who descend with manic abandon, while I take a more sedate 'senior citizen' style approach.
About 5 ish we arrive at the Old Post Office in Garrigill, a quaint village. The owners turn out to be very pleasant if not a little over enthusiastic at putting up signs. The bathroom contains over 12! and the quirkiness is compounded when it turns out that we have to watch the same TV channel as them. That night we return early from a satisfyingly good pub meal and beers to watch telly, only to find they've turned it off and gone to bed. Doh. An early night it is.
