One for all and all for one?

Day 10

Route Carlisle to New Lanark

Distance: 77 miles

Time: 5 hrs 10 minutes

The blog to this point has functioned as a chronicle of the team’s daily adventures; however this has been put somewhat to the test today due to the day’s events. Despite starting the morning gathered around the Travel Lodge all you can eat breakfast buffet, this ‘all for one and one for all’ theme fell apart as the morning progressed. As such, it seems apt that the blog be written in sections this evening, so that our avid readers can get a little sample from a day in the life of Team CF Cycle….

Katy - The ankle has become more painful overnight, in fact, rather too painful to cycle on. Despite attempting the two miles out of Carlisle it became quickly apparent that my ankle was not going to hold, and reluctantly, I agreed to get of my bike and make a quick trip to AandE  to see what the problem was.  I was less than amused to be missing crossing the border, something I had really been looking forward to, and even less impressed when the nurse who treated me primarily in A and E offered me paracetamol.  3 hours, one x ray, a top tip from the same savvy nurse to stop in his local at New Lanark for a deep fried pizza ( we were definitely getting closer to Scotland with this recommendation) I was free to go; the doctors prognosis was a stress injury – perhaps a torn ligament which needed ice, elevation and rest. In the meantime the boys had parted way from Lucy, somewhere outside Lockerby, so the day became a case of catch up as Lucy had no water bottle, little food, and no rain jacket.

Joss – Nice wet cycle, had a really good time. Wish you were here….

Lucy- Well it all started promisingly as we set off from Carlisle. I was not flagging too far behind the boys with their well abled cycle legs. However it all took a turn for the worst (literally) when I unknowingly decided to take the more scenic route than that which we’d planned, taking me up some rather unnecessarily steep hills. After referring back to base a.k.a the van man, I set back on the correct route a mere 30 odd minutes behind the boys, who informed me we were going to stop for lunch at a little place called Abington which they assured me was a ‘wee’ distance away. Little did I know this was to become the 3 hour journey from hell. My supplies were not just low, but non-existent. I’d eagerly set off without food, water or rain provisions on the belief that the white van man would appear shortly after out departure from Carlisle….this was not the case.  I optimistically left Beattock with a good pace and reassurance from a local that there was a petrol station a mere mile up the road where I could buy supplies. As fate would have it, there were no petrol station, nor villages, nor houses for a good twenty five mile stretch. A wave of delirium set in about 8 miles in, which drove me to frantically scanning the verge for discarded bottles that had collected rainwater to drink from. After five separate attempts to drink from such vessels failed due to the overwhelming stench of urine and/or foreign chemicals, I decided this was maybe not a good idea.  A further 5 miles into the cycle from hell, I dismounted my steed and was about to get down on my hands and knees in order to lap water from an overwhelmingly large roadside puddle, when several lorries thundered past and shook me from temporary madness. Eventually I made it to Crawford a little village which hosted the most appealing corner shop I’ve ever come across. Soon after the Van man arrived with a bag full of Percy pigs, and all was right in the world again.