An enormous day starting at 8 a.m. and finishing at 7.30 p.m. For most of the time we were either pedalling or pushing up very steep hills and across miles of forest track, in thick fog and relentless rain.

 

Only 2 miles into the journey we came to a sign stating “Route Closed, By Order, Unexploded Munitions have been found in the area”. We selected an alternative way to get to a point further up the track where we assumed it would be safe to continue on our original route. After negotiating a tough ascent through miles of forest track we came to a gate bearing the same message, albeit with the addition of an explanation that the munitions were unexploded 2nd world war mortars and that the area had been used as a mortar range for many years. The sign added that whilst we were not to enter, if we did so, it would be at our own risk.

 

With that bit of good news we slung our bikes straight over the chained gate and headed off along what appeared to be a well used track. A few hundred meters on the track had dwindled to a mark on the grass, and shortly after that it ended altogether. The mist had settled over us, but we had just enough time to get a compass bearing on a trig point set upon a distant hill. With that bearing dialled in we fought our way across open moorland (complete with hidden unexploded mortars of course) towards an invisible destination.

 

Occasionally we came upon burnt out circles in the peat, leaving the mind free to wonder if some poor sheep, or cyclist for that matter, had met with an unexpected demise. Treading with the grace and lightness of a royal ballet dancers the three clumsy men in tights pirouetted their way to safety.

 

Our stop for coffee at Knighton is worth blogging.

 

Arriving in the town we headed up a pedestrianised zone towards a sandwich bar. Once there we set up outside using the somewhat damp table and chairs plus umbrella.  Coffee and sandwiches were ordered and brought to us by a rather tipsy gent. Just as he began asking us about our cycling the rain started pelting down. “Fancy a flat” he asked.

 

Paul, who had just arrived after having gone to the library to check his emails, looked on with surprise, and sent a glare in the man’s direction, thinking that he was threatening violence towards our bikes. “A flat” the man reiterated, “we have one vacant downstairs should you wish to stop cycling and have a rest”.

 

Maybe not…

 

All in all a very big day and one that we paid the price for that night when we turned up at Much Wenlock.

 

The decision was that we would eat out. We found place at an Indian curry. Each of us were so hungry that we ordered way too much food.
Still, we managed to eat it all; and the walk back the campsite in total darkness.

 

I was like a zombie.

 

Nice one guys

 

Gavin