Overland to Carlisle – part two

Continued from Overland to Carlisle…

The pints were served until 0100, to support the snooker tournament… but we were asleep well before that.

Well rested, the next morning, we realised how much yesterday’s ride had built up our appetites, and The Blackcock Inn rose to the occasion once again. Why are you laughing?

The granola was delicious, and I sensibly went for poached eggs and bacon, rather than the full English which was calling to me from the menu. Over breakfast, we chatted with the owners about the Tour Divide, Highland Trail 550, and Transcontinental, as well as their swimming exploits in Guernsey, marshalling the 20km swim in Kielder Water, and elsewhere. They’ve got big plans for the inn – it was a fantastic place to stay.

Well-fuelled, we retrieved our bikes from the garage, faffed around a bit, and set off back along the road on the South of Kielder, before peeling off into the forest.

We’d seen a lot of trees felled by Arwen already, and were alert to the risk of them still blocking trails, especially when we were descending. It was here that we first started to be hampered by them, even though the trunks had been cleared from the trail. There’s clearly so much for the park authority to do, that they really just cleared the worst and as long as the heavy plant could move over the remnants, that was job done.

For us on our gravel bikes, this made for some fun technical riding (and falling off!) Even at little more than walking pace, you can feel like an absolute hero making it through some line that looks a bit sketchy!

Honestly, we walked a lot. It was beautiful though, and very different to the riding from yesterday. Slow, but that’s the thing about off-road riding, at least in the UK, you really don’t know what the path will be like until you get there, and even when you’re on it, any corner you turn can bring a fresh surprise.

Fortunately, the midges stayed away.

We cleared the forest, and came to wider, well made gravel trails which we could easily ride through the more open moonscape which forestry works had created. We didn’t see anyone, for hours.

These trails took us on and on, rising and falling with the landscape as we thought it would from the profile. It was hot, for the north of England, but the gentle northerly breeze, that same wind which had done so much damage to the forests, kept us cool when we stopped.

We did eventually bump in to someone. He was walking Britain end-to-end over three stints, raising money for Multiple Sclerosis charities. Seeing people walking long distances always makes me grateful to be on a bike… I enjoy long distance walking, but it takes a toll on your body in a way that cycling just doesn’t, and when you’re in a rough patch, it can take a very long time to get through it.

As we got to the end of the national park, the landscape started to change. Forest gave way to sheep fields again, and the gravel to country roads. Nothing makes you grateful for smooth tarmac like 30km of up-and-down gravel, much as I enjoy riding off road!

We were more able to look at the view as we rode this, seeing the line of Hadrians Wall and the changes in the limestone landscape. Lunch in Haltwhistle, with half a beer and a bit of faffing around.

We knew we had a non-stop 35km climb to Alston for the afternoon… but we didn’t really know what it would be like. It turned out to be perfect: old railway line, with a good gravel surface and plenty of shelter from the midday sun. It went on and on, so easy that I kept thinking it was going downhill, but Ben assured me/swore blind that it was still going up.

He was right, but I still don’t really believe him.

Lumbley viaduct was a highlight. We did ride over it, despite the railway being blocked by someones garden afterwards (I don’t really understand why they would ever sell sections of the track like that!) The climb down the steps was… fun…

Alston came, with a long, lazy dinner of chicken and ham pies, followed by ice cream. We reminisced about the last time we were there, when Ben was really suffering after the Hartside climb on our three-day Coast to Coast ride in 2018, Ben’s first long-distance ride, and probably my first multi-dayer.

The Great North Trail had been wonderful, but we chose the road for the last 10km, looking forward to our beds at Garrigill. This was no great hardship: they were lovely and quiet, and we arrived five minutes before the rain. Not that a shower would have been bad, we were very hot, but it was good to keep the bikes and our gear all dry.

After we were all clean and refreshed, a Pennine Way walker joined us in the bunkhouse. He’d been over Great Dun Fell, and had a familiar-looking hobble, which I recognised from my own weekends on the tough Pennine Way. We shared some whisky and gels with him, and as Ben swithered on the route choice and whether we should go up to the heights or save our strength for the night wide, we mentally prepared ourselves for going over the top the next day.