Done it!

Got here! 12.15 after a quick 38 miles, straight down the A30 from Penzance to save time and caught out the welcoming party despite their GPS tracking!
Happy and relieved.

Last leg

Weather forecast along the route 1% precipitation. Actual: 40 mins of rain, cloud down to 200ft.
Clearing up now as I breakfast on sausage rolls in Hayle, half way there but I expect some climbing before the final descent to Lands End.
Thanks for all the messages of support, birthday cards, donations still coming in. And we had a great night last night.

A great welcome from the fan club

Up early for a start before 7, knowing that I'd cut 15 miles and a lot of climbing from today's session was a good feeling. First target was Bodmin for breakfast in an old town hall office at the back of a bakery - see pic. Then through the tiny high-sided Cornish lanes, hardly any respite from the rollercoaster ups and downs, to St Columb Major for a doughnut and nectarine stop. After a chat up on the moor with an eighty-year-old cyclist Colin still very active and clearly fit, and who handed over a donation for my causes, I was tracked down by virtue of Garmin Connect GPS to St Newlyn East where the welcoming party kicked off celebrations albeit a day early! A further eight miles and I arrived at the Rose-in-Vale hotel where we are gathering for dinner tonight.
No time now as pre-dinner drinks await, so will post more later, and plenty of photos and a bit of video hopefully.
One remark - apart from thanks for some recent donations, blog comments, texts and whatsapps, if you have replied to the blog auto-emails I don't see anything so please re-send if you can.

Bodmin Moor signpost

....and another one

Unusual and remarkable cafe in Bodmin

Tracked down in St Newlyn East by the fan club

The Culme, Exe, Tamar and Tavy....and Cornwall

The George in Uffculme was a hostelry of contrasts - a welcoming Polish hostess and her husband (with a mouthful of carpet tacks) an excellent prawn tagliatelle that would not have disgraced any Italian restaurant, and one bath without even a shower attachment between the three or four rooms available. Anthony joined me for a chat about all things Devon and a few things Airwave. At 7.30 am on the dot he was outside and we made good progress along the flat route to Exeter, not the main road, not the prettiest but an enjoyable country ride from the beautiful Culme valley and over the Exe to.....Sainsbury's. There I was treated to breakfast, Anthony advised on the best route to tackle Dartmoor, he headed back home and I started to climb. I've driven over Dartmoor but this was different. Probably harder than the Lake District as it was so sustained, it was a few miles solid climbing to Moretonhampstead for a teastop, followed by a rollercoaster of great descents and subsequent ascent, with wild rolling moorland all around, very little traffic and lots of sheep and wild ponies. It seemed to go on for ever, but eventually a superb winding run down ended in the attractive town of Tavistock, whence the River Tavy. Fish and chips by the river, chatting with other visitors on my bench, and investigating an unusual automatic mechanical contraption that somehow sorts baby salmon and ensures they go up (or is it down?) the river and not the canal, and it was time to complete the extra miles I'd decided to add on so as to reduce tomorrow's total.  However I hadn't anticipated the unremitting climb out of Tavistock to the WhealTor hotel, so the added 15 miles were extremely hard-earned. Never mind, I won't regret it tomorrow. The clans are gathering, with daughter Rachel and fiance Rob now in the hotel at Mithian; Mum, Sue travelling down with friends Sue and Lawrence tomorrow. Another earlyish night and hopefully an early start so I don't miss my own party.
I did promise routes and stats the other day but didn't manage it. Today was the highest climbing day at 1437m for the main ride plus an amazing 643m post-Tavistock, but the landlord did say we're at 1000ft here. Mixed measures I'm afraid.
Pics
Try this link, mainly Dartmoor
https://goo.gl/photos/3NHSkvgmUfGhLZYZA
Last big day tomorrow.

Into Devon...three days to go

The vans had gone by time I left at 7.45 and the roads were busy as I headed for Sweets cycle-friendly tea room near Glastonbury for a rendezvous with Darren F of Airwave who looks after police forces across the Southwest. Earlier Gill and Andy C chased me down for a photo-opportunity by the roadside and met us again at Sweets. Lots of chat and a breakfast later off I went, only to miss a turning and waste a good 5 miles. It was hot but the scenery consistently good. Bypassing Taunton, lunch was a quick sandwich by the roadside, then to Wellington and the final approach over Sampford Moor and a good downhill stretch into Uffculme and the George Hotel. A 7% local cider and a bath later and I met Anthony McG, also from Airwave, for a drink and catch-up, and to plan tomorrow. We are to meet at 7.30am and ride to Exeter for breakfast, before I tackle Dartmoor!
An extended ride allows for a slightly shorter one on Saturday, as the table is booked for 13 in Mithian, an appointment I can't miss. Tooth still present if not correct but painfree. Off to sleep now if the George customers go home. My phone died so no pics from me but maybe some from Darren or Gill if they can get them to James.
Goodnight all.

Down the Wye, across the Severn, into the West Country

After the worst night ever in a hotel - the seagulls and the shouting locals only overshadowed by the revving girlracer, the mechanised street sweeper around 5am, followed by a major beer keg delivery - Giles and I left Hereford with the sun already warm and a hot day to look forward to.
Through country lanes, spotting skylarks and buzzards and chatting about this and that, it was idyllic cycling. Away from the main roads the lanes tend to follow the rise and fall of the land rather than cutting through it, and the sudden steep inclines had me wondering about the prospects ahead across Dartmoor and Cornwall.
Then we arrived via Llanwarne (ruined church pic) in the much-disputed town of Monmouth, currently in England, for our morning tea/coffee stop. From there we followed the delightful Wye valley, the river always nearby if not in sight, stopping at the Brockweir bridge (I think) for photos of salmon fishermen in the glorious valley surroundings, and a chat with a couple of slightly older cyclists out for a day trip. Continuing on we passed magnificent Tintern Abbey in its river bend, then climbed away from the water before a rapid descent into Chepstow, its castle and iron bridge (pic), where a Gregg's sandwich by the riverside sufficed for lunch.
Then it was up on to the M48 bridge to cross the Wye outlet and then the main Severn river, with great views upstream from the cycleway. (Pic later from the shore). Shortly afterwards Giles departed towards Bristol City Parkway and his train to Oxford while I continued into Somerset. Not a pleasant experience to begin with as the cycle path petered out and the A403 was a stream of fast cars, vans and lorries heading for Avonmouth industrial and maritime complex. I then had to find my way to the M5 crossing of the Avon. This proved a little bizarre as I stopped to check my route with a pair of young riders who were clearly returning from school across this half mile crossing alongside the thundering motorway traffic. Two other pairs of lower end secondary children were walking across also, alongside the odd adult going to and from work as it appeared. On the other side was a long track meandering round huge industrial or storage facilities and massive car parks of new motors large and small awaiting delivery across the country. A strange environment for me but seemingly mundane for these local youngsters.
Suddenly everything was normal again and I headed into Portishead and along a busy rush hour B-day to Clevedon, and my accommodation for the night. I'd booked into a holiday camp expecting families and young couples but none were to be found. There was a clear divide between the owner-occupied bungalows with their pot plants and little gardens, and my end which was unadorned by any embellishment and seemed to be occupied almost exclusively by male workers presumably servicing local industry, and in their spare time barbequing their evening meal, phoning home to Poland, Ireland or wherever and drinking beer. The Jordanian and Egyptian in the adjoining cabin to mine offered some of their food and said they were training for their UK/EU pilot's licence conversion at a near Bristol Airport facility. I left having used the laundry and cycled into town for some dinner, feeling like a fish out of water, but just found the same sensation at a seafront, well, a  Severn Estuary-front pub full of families and couples in the still bright evening sun (pic). I went back into town and was happy as the sole customer of the Bangla restaurant eating chicken Tikka drinking Tiger beer and setting the world to rights with the owner.
Now back in this potentially noisy drink-fuelled young men's environment it's as quiet as the grave.
More tomorrow as I head into Devon and a couple of rendezvous. And an update on the tooth situation: the ache has disappeared but tonight an errant poppodum seems to have  partially broken off a section of tooth which is hanging in limbo not knowing whether to break clean away or hang on in there.
What fun. More ramblings tomorrow.

Salmon fishermen on the Wye

The Severn estuary from Clevedon

Tintern Abbey

The (new) Severn bridge

Salmon fishing

The Wye at Brockweir

Ruined church at Llanwarne

Stopping for morning tea in Monmouth

Where's yer bin? Through blue-remembered hills to Hereford

Brother Giles (sibling as opposed to holy orders) has pointed out that Wem is in Shropshire not Herefordshire. I thought maybe A.E. Housman was associated with the town but it seems not. Look up his poem 'A Shropshire Lad' and all the sources kick off with the 'fact' that he never set foot in the county before writing the poem. They then riff on his penchant for not letting facts get in the way of a good story (an early Trump?), quoting examples such as a reference to a steeple on a church that has always had a simple tower only, and similar others. Which to me begs the question - if he exercised his poetic licence that much, why do they believe the not-visiting-Shropshire part? No satnav or GPS then so he could easily have taken a few sneaky rides round the county any time. Talking of which reminds me of a certain bike-ride that is subject to modern technology and consequently auditable from top to bottom.
The pub didn't do breakfast until 9 so they knocked up a couple rounds of sandwiches and some crisps - for 2 quid! - and I left nice and early for a full English in a friendly cafe (please bring your bike inside sir) - in Shrewsbury, lovely town, see pics. On the way I got into a surreal dance with the local binmen in a little village out in the wilds. Having got stuck behind them in a narrow lane I stopped to answer a phone call from Darren F, and they came up behind to empty some bins, then overtook me but actually parked right next to me so I couldn't hear a word, this being otherwise in the back of beyond.
The rest of the day was relatively incident free, apart from a detour to avoid road closures for a level crossing upgrade. And what countryside! Into the Shropshire hills at All Stretton then Church Stretton, and a quick stop overlooking either Wenlock Edge or possibly the Long Mynd (pic), then through green, tree-lined valleys and typical English fields to lunch in gorgeous Ludlow next to the castle. More country lanes to Leominster, then, railway detour apart, a final stretch into Hereford, an interesting cathedral city, and the huge, imposing if slightly tatty Green Dragon hotel.
Giles turned up around seven at the bistro where I was already ensconced and later read the hotel history - Edward IV stayed here when Earl March - and the hotel still has WW2 armour plating from when it was an air raid shelter for the town's residents.
A great day's ride in all and only a little unexpected rain in the first hour. Tomorrow promises more of the same, down to Tintern and Monmouth. If you don't know this Welsh border country, come and see it, you can't beat it.

Photos (in reverse order...)

Shrewsbury

Shrewsbury

Blue re membered hills

11:33 - probably the only reason Dad didn't pop in here for a swift one

Selfie £2 lunch

We're all going to Wem...

...'b'lie 've it or not, that headline took 8 hours and 76 miles to work out so I hope you like it. There was no tickertape and no one was singing as I rode into the little market town of Wem, just as well as I was bound for the Burlton Inn seven miles further on and a well--earned venison steak.
This morning Sue drove me back to Wigan and left for home, while I hit yet another canal en route for the Mersey. A decent surface and not many people was good news but there was a succession of complicated barriers with sort of bike-shaped gaps to slow you down (and presumably keep motorbikes out). Another cyclist riding by said his mate had been out with an angle-grinder and certainly after that point most of the gates were wide open.
Then reality in the form of fast A roads intervened and I was briefly not sure of the route. After I found it Darren C informed me I'd just ridden past his brother's house, would have been useful if he'd been there to help but it's the thought that counts. Soon I found Great Sankey, a country park leading all the way to Widnes and the Mersey bridge. A little slow but a most enjoyable off-road section. Spotting the impressive bridge at a distance I thought there was a lot of work going on, lorries, people, equipment everywhere. Then I found a sign saying the  route I was on was suspended while the new bridge was built. Panic set in...do I have to ride up to Liverpool and the tunnel or ferry? Obviously the old bridge was in fact still running so over I went (sole pics for today). On stopping for photos I found the cycleway disconcertingly bounced when anything heavy drove past so on I went.
The route thereafter was flat and fast with little wind and apart from half an hour lying flat out beside yet another little canal in the sun, it was full speed ahead to journey's end.

At this point, more than half way through the challenge, I feel pretty confident about finishing and will provide a few stats and route detail soon. Tomorrow: Hereford and meeting my brother who is coming over for a ride on Wednesday.

Wem the original inspiration for the Wembley arch..?

...no, it's actually the Silver Jubilee bridge linking Runcorn and Widnes

View up the Mersey from the bridge

Canals and county town

This morning Sue and Paul dropped me off back at Milnthorpe, and straight into some back roads down to Lancaster. This is what I love about England, within 5 minutes I was riding in front of Dallam Tower and its herd of (?) roe deer, then through villages of grey stone called Slack Head, Yealand Storrs, Yealand Redmayne and Yealand Conyers, then Nether Kellett and a sign to its companion Upper Kellett. Later a pub called the Shovel Inn - they didn't say but surely they welcome big eaters...
At Carnforth I sat on a handy garden bench on a corner to have a drink and watch classic cars chug by and up the hill to a rally. The bench owner had set it out specially for some visitors but once we'd sorted out that little difficulty we watched a stream of identifiable and unknowns roar or puff by - Moggy Minors of course, an A40, a Morgan, an Austin Healey (a 3000 I thought), some three-wheelers and lots more.
Later I rolled in to Lancaster for morning tea and cake. One of the pics if James has them uploaded should show a domed building in the background which you may recognise from trips up the M6 rising above the trees on the left around J34 or so.
Next came a stretch of the Lancaster Canal, but the towpath was bumpy and both uncomfortable and slow, so I reverted to the A6 for a while, not too bad on a Sunday. The sun came out and I stopped at a convenient point for sandwiches lovingly provided by Sue who was enjoying a visit to a National Trust property, Rufford Old Hall. Later I reached Preston, not much to report there, but an extensive country park and then the Leeds and Liverpool Canal provided an attractive and traffic-free ride, apart from Sunday strollers that is, in the fine afternoon sun. So with relatively slow progress I eventually abandoned the canal and hot-footed it into Wigan (even less to be said, just glum faces drowning their sorrows after some sporting event) where Sue was patiently waiting to drive back to our castle home. Takeaway pizza from the pub at the bottom of our drive, and supposedly an early night to get me down to Wigan again for tomorrow's journey to Wem (me neither, first time for everything, I think it's in Herefordshire).

Our home for two nights in Hornby

The old Tramway near Preston

Lancaster Canal

Leeds and Liverpool Canal

River Lune at Lancaster

Deer at Dalham Tower, nr Milnthorpe

The biggest climb

Please try the link below - I think you can all see recent photos.

https://drive.google.com/open?id=0B5kY9_T1TmtXZWlpd0lRdC1tRnc

This morning after breakfast I tried to adjust my brakes which had lost their effectiveness over a few days. Not seeing any difference I rode down to Carlisle city centre and found a bike shop where they immediately took the bike into the workshop and fitted new pads. Apparently a combination of weather throwing up wet grit, plenty of use down some steep hills, and extra luggage weight was enough to wear them out over 500 miles.
The first part of the ride was along small country roads with light traffic in sun and just a little wind - perfect. The village of Unthank is no doubt hundreds of years old but sounds like a modern way of withdrawing your appreciation for a gift that wasn't quite as good as you thought it was. Greystoke followed, (pics) the home of Tarzan or at least of Lord Greystoke upon whom the stories were based. A great run down to Dacre took me to the shore of Ullswater (pic) and along to Glenridding for lunch. Then it was time for the big one. I've driven over the Lake District passes but never cycled up one. A gentlish ascent turned into Kirkstone Pass proper, 20% and then 15% gradients up to 1500', a few hundred feet higher than Rannoch Moor and a lot steeper, bending this way and that to make the climb. I divided it into sections, looking upward and deciding on a lowest gear stretch followed by a slightly higher gear standing up stretch and then a minute's rest before starting again. That way I managed the entire climb without walking and stopped just past the summit (pic of low cloud).
Now for the descent. Several miles of 25-35mph round sweeping bends was fantastic, then maybe fifteen miles of up and down, all through the more intimate Lake District countryside I love. At Milnthorpe Sue had just arrived and we put the bike in the car. Tonight we are staying in an Airbnb in a genuine castle
https://www.airbnb.co.uk/s/Hornby--United-Kingdom/homes?allow_override%5B%5D=&listing_types%5B%5D=3&s_tag=lIdqbaJh&type=bnb
with Paul, an old friend from Northampton who has come over for an early birthday celebration.
Tomorrow: Milnthorpe to Wigan or thereabouts.

Proof that he's actually riding it and not just doing a tour of the North of the UK's pubs!

Getting in the way of that bull or getting in the way of Dad sailing...not sure which would be more perilous