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I left the Youth Hostel at Street fairly early, but I still managed to run straight into rural Somerset’s rush hour. A transiting dairy herd had entirely blocked the narrow country lane I was on. Two young cows stopped just by me and started ‘head sparring’ like two rutting stags. It was entertaining at first, until one decided the handlebars of my bike looked ripe for a challenge. Disaster was averted by quickly turning the bars side on in submission; I was happy to let this cow have the moral victory.
Once going again I very quickly made it to the bottom of Ebbor Gorge in the Mendips. Last night in the Youth Hostel cyclists of all ages delighted in telling me their horror stories about getting up Ebbor Gorge. In the end it wasn’t actually that bad. I stopped at Wookey Hole to catch my breath, then engaged the granny gear and spun up the 200m climb in one very slow go. Apparently the view from the top is spectacular, but the weather had closed in by then so I cracked on through the persistent drizzle..
Not long after dropping out of the Mendips I tackled Bristol. Cycling in cities that you don’t know is never fun, but in this case the extensive and largely dedicated cycle paths that cross the city made it pretty easy. The national cycle network is much improved in recent years and route 3 and 4 (I think) through Bristol are great examples of how good they can be.
I stopped for lunch just north of the M4. I met up with Dan, an old friend from Sheffield days. After a long morning it was just the morale boost I needed (especially as it was his shout!) – thanks Dan!
The day finished with a valuable lesson in route planning. I followed the cycleway along the canal north to Gloucester Quays. What the maps didn’t say was that this cycleway is pretty rough and certainly not roadbike territory. On my tourer I was just about OK but I now feel like I’ve spent a day flying in a Chinook trough a hail storm. Beer will fix that…
Tomorrow – Nuneaton.