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The alarm went off at 4:35am this morning and pressing "snooze" only once I was out of bed at 4:45. Wash, brush teeth, get dressed, quick check of the kit, brush the week old mud off the shoes and with a quick bowl of cereal we were out of the door. We stood on the cold platform of Wellington station and waited for Gemma and Garrick and the train to arrive.
Not long had passed before G&G were spotted cycling through the entrance, along the west bound platform and over the bridge to join us.
I had spent the night before worrying about whether I had enough kit or too much kit but had resigned myself to what I had to carry either way. Garrick and Gemma had only a backpack each but had spent the time between getting up and arriving trying to sort a puncture and remove a tyre from a too tight rim... In the end Garrick had given up all together and retrieved a spare wheel from the loft discarding the punctured original and cursing it as he told the story. He carried a bag containing snacks, lunch and a 203mm disc brake rotor he had yet to fit to the spare wheel.
The train arrived on time and we were off. On the journey the helpful ticket collecter advised of when connections would arrive and was far too cheerful for the time of day. Once in Wolverhampton we headed for the cafe and tall caffeinated drinks while Garrick attached his brake.
The connection for Crewe was boarded and the train to Carlisle met without question or incident and more caffeine was imbibed. I'm no longer sure what all the fuss was about yesterday.
We seemed to make good time, but after an age on the train passing through the sunny northern countryside with views of snow topped hills, it was still early. Our enthusiasm waning we eventually made it to Carlisle. Another large group of cyclists were already on the platform and headed for the same local train as us. While they bought drinks from the cafe, we secured our place on board the connection to the start of the trip.
The local train passed through very local stations, where signs informed potential passengers at the stations that if they wished to board the train they must first flag down the driver to stop! Eventually we arrived in Whitehaven and leaving the station we felt the warmth of the sun juxtaposed against the icy chill of easterly wind.
As is traditional we headed to the harbour to dip our wheels in the Irish Sea and have the obligatory photo in front of the C2C sign and with the wheels anointed we struck out west for the North Sea.
The first few miles were through the urban streets and alleys of Whitehaven. Avoiding shoppers, dog walkers and family's enjoying the sun before joining a disused railway line which would be followed for the next few miles. The track was flat (although deceptively climbing) and monotonous. An easy spin but with no opportunity to freewheel. After an hour, we were still on the track but following a winding gravel trail we hit the country lanes and spectacular views over Ennerdale water and the half snow capped fells beyond.
The roads moved fast, nothing too steep or rough and plenty to look at as the mileage racked up. The single challenge for the day approaching quickly was the Whinlatter pass. A steep climb for 300 vertical meters to join the main road followed by fire track spins to reach the visitor centre in the forest. The climb was a slog but nothing we couldn't handle and at the very least it generated heat to combat the chill. As we followed the foredt tracks of Whinlatter patches of snow and ice kept us on our toes but arriving at the visitor centre we knew we were nearly done for the day. A well deserved hot chocolate (with all the cream, chocolate and marshmallow trimmings) warmed us from the inside as we sat in the cafe. It felt like an alpine ski resort with views of pine forests and snowy crags.
The next few miles into Keswick were via a fun, fast fire road descent to Braithwaite. The air quickly chilled us again without any uphill to generate heat. Annoyingly we missed two opportunities to ride short sections of singletrack in the forest but had no intention of climbing back up the hill to undertake them. The 30+ mph descent of the the loose fire road trail went some way to compensate though and my misjudgement of the power of my brakes leading to a too fast pass through the final gate also left me giggling with the thrill.
The rest of the ride was straight forward and flat into the centre of Keswick. The hotel was found, bikes secured and showers turned up to 40 degrees. The hunt for food ended at the Bank Tavern accompanied by beers all round.
By 9pm we were back in the room and, well before 10, asleep. The very long, short first day over and done. Next stop breakfast...
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