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Guess and hope, the key to navigation

Tom
Aug 4, 2016
2 min read

It's 6.30pm. Gaz is inside Waitrose in Monmouth getting coffees and I'm looking at his brakes which just aren't working. It's already been a massive day; we were on the road at 7.30am in Taunton... It's not looking good. The thread on one of the screws has completely sheered after Gaz stacked it at a junction. 'OK don't panic, look at the map, how long have we got to go?' We have at least 40km left and who knows how much incline. It couldn't get much worse... then it starts to rain.

But this is exactly what we signed up for and we'd be dissapointed if there was no digging deep or little dramas. There's no adventure without the unknown.

We cycled 180km with over 1900m of height gain. I'm almost crying whilst texting my friend I'm so tired. We started in Taunton. Heading for Cheddar we make greet time on the A-road. Then my route takes us onto back roads and suddenly it says turn right through a hedge. With no signal we are back to the 'old school,' reading the highlighted maps I made up.

We get to Cheddar. Eat cheese, of course. Then crack on to Bristol. I tell you now, I would rather stick needles through my eyes than navigate that route through Bristol again. I start getting angry and Gaz is doing his best to temper my mood and starts laughing at me carrying my loaded bike down a set of stairs off a bridge. The tension is released.

3 light-years later we are crossing the Severn Bridge. Cameras are at the ready to mark the moment we reach Wales. "Wales! We are gonna be in Wales!" The winds across the bridge are humming and whistling through the bridge like harmonics. You can barely stay upright! It's tough going.

I must thank Laura and Gareth who put us up tonight and again we are in the presence of a handyman who has temporarily fixed Gazes bike with a wooden screw and a cable tie- I'm just starting to realise how useless me and Gaz really are at fulfilling our roles as men.

I also learnt today that you will be hard done by to find any part of the South West that is not selling logs or eggs. But the true Charlie Sheen's of the world sell both.