With the Gurkha motto in my mind I was off and out making the most of the morning sunshine and blue sky.
I am not joking, I mounted my bike and it stated to rain. It didn’t last though and before I knew it I was in Wales. Ahhh… BRAKE. Errr….STRAVA off…. Continue.
The Severn bridge was another big marker for me and my journey. It’s a bit open to the elements though….The bridge is 1.6km long, a real feat of engineering that was built it 1966. Pretty impressive eh? It’s brother the Prince of Wales Bridge was built in 1996. It has 6 lanes (nothing for a bicycle though)
The stretch from the Severn to Avonmouth along the coast is industrial. I’ll rephrase. Was industrial. The amount of factories left to the rats is a sorry sight. No doubt there is lots of exporting things happening but there are lots of SME’s now filling the industrial estates I assume due to cheap rent etc. I can’t help thinking we’ve gone backwards.
With a magic wand or about 50 years of change i would… (standing on my soapbox now) reinstate this coastline to housing or better still appropriate industry and, after turfing out the endless salons, gambling haunts and kebab shops send those SME’s back into our towns and cities…
VOTE Haste for change….
As I crossed the Avon near Portbury things stated to go wrong. Firstly I went wrong, very wrong.
There is a cycle Lane along the M5 bridge but I took the turning down the M5. I was quite scared for a minute but I managed to walk back the 20m and cross.
Then it hailed and the wind blew. I don’t know what it was blowing earlier but it’s saying 23mph now.
Then I got a puncture. The back wheel, which means I have to take all my kit off my bike to change it. It was raining heavily still so I found shelter outside a Starbucks.
BREATHE… have a drink first then tackle the problem.
My coffee was disappointing. 50%milk / 50% froth. Then I noticed a spoke was broken – this is a problem with the amount of weight (c.90kg + me c.85kg). Then I got another puncture. Different wheel. About an hour later I was off but the wind was so hard and the roads were narrow to clevedon. It was 4pm and with 12 miles to go to my destination. I aborted. By the time my taxi arrived it was 4.30pm and dark.
So I made it to Weston-Super-Mare (40miles) …sort of…(30miles) let’s call my last hour my first mulligan….
Due to the looming national lockdown I’m cashing in my kind B&B cheques. Thanks to The Murch family for tonight. It’s a joy as ever to have a warm shower with my clothes at my feet. Washed and drying now. No. Not me. My clothes.
Days like this happen don’t they… but although today has throw everything at me, it’s just made me more determined to go on…
As time has gone on. Day by day, we get stronger and it definitely becomes easier to see solutions and make the right choices amid the fog. Like today’s sensible one to ‘dial a cab’ and not panic. Panic is fear and I know where that can lead… no thanks.
Right I’ve got to check my drying, polish my beard and sleep. I hope you all are well and staying safe. Smile.
Big thanks though to my Whitby friends too. Yes these cycling lunatics who are still swimming every day. Nina is a….spiritual problem solver, aren’t you and I’ve needed a bit of healing help over the last 24hours.
Nina, I’m feeling great again 😉
Right. Over and Out