Dales and Lakes Bicycle Tour 2020: Day 8 (End)

Shimmering Thirlmere

Leaving Stonethwaite Campsite at ten past noon, I chatted to a guy from Bolton-le-Sands,  near Carnforth. He asked me if I would be passing through there on my way home to Lancaster. I told him it depended on how late it was when I got to that area. I wasn't sure if this would be the last day of the tour. I had a Grizedale wild-camp in mind.

Leaving Derwentwater 

I rolled back up Borrowdale past Derwentwater for the last time and stopped for another veggie burger lunch in still-bustling Keswick. Battling up the steep hill to Castlerigg afterwards I pragmatically decided to get off and push. This could turn into a long day, I thought.

 
The trail re-opened in  December 2020 exactly five years after being devastated by Storm Desmond.

A delightful ride through timeless St Johns-in-the-Vale brought me to a short section of gravel track that ended just across from Thirlmere aqueduct. A fresh, brisk wind blew right in my face all the way, but my enjoyment could not be curtailed. The dam wall was closed to cars so I was pleased to know it would be a very serene cycle around the quieter side of the reservoir.

It was just that, with the road running high above the lake delivering spectacular views down this central Lakeland valley. It reminded me of a recently aired TV show in which a hot-air balloon flew straight above towards Windermere.

The peace of this lane was welcome but eventually it dropped me down onto the busy A591 and I had to stay on this road for most of the way to Windermere. At Grasmere I was surprised to hook up with NCN 6 for a period, I hadn't realised it came this far. The glorious tranquillity of Grasmere never ceases to amaze or induce awe in the beholder.

                                     

Tranquillity at Grasmere

A confusing junction between Grasmere and Rydal Water tried to send me over Loughrigg Terrace. I watched a number of people, riding those lightweight gravel bikes, appear through the woods down the track and on to Grasmere. It was definitely a no-go-zone for a loaded touring bike, but I've got that route logged for future reference. It was the gear not the gears.

I even had trouble getting back up onto a boardwalk section of path, but a very kindly gentleman voluntarily held the back end of the bike for me. Then I was back on the main road and heading to Ambleside.                        

                         

Pastoral Grasmere

I was still seriously considering wild-camping options. Grizedale had been discounted as I thought that would be too relentlessly vertiginous. An ideal looking pitching spot in a pretty glade near the River Rothay was already occupied, although it was too early in the day for me to be stopping anyway. It was about four in the afternoon.      

Approaching Ambleside

At Bowness-on-Windermere the dusk was creeping in as the daylight faded behind the Old Man of Coniston. After consuming a much needed portion of fish, chips and mushy peas on a park bench overlooking Windermere, I prepared myself and my bike for a night ride. A chilly and windy night ride at that; the block headwind showed no sign of attenuating.

However, this is a tour, a tour of the Lakes, so I set off down the darkening lanes along the eastern shore of Windermere, determined to ride the full length rather than take a more direct route home. 

Wild-camping was still in my thoughts. I had a few places in mind,  all of them involved a steep and sweaty climb, which I didn't fancy just before bedtime. Eventually I gave up on the idea altogether and resolved to ride all the way home. I had rain to beat now too!

Around Newby Bridge I served a happily-short sentence on the A590, before turning off up through the dark lanes over High Newton and Cartmel. I drew an appreciative honk from a 4WD vehicle high up on a single-track lane. If I had been a Christmas Tree, the fairy would've needed shades.

Soon I was grinding up the long hill leading to Grange-over-Sands where I knew I'd hook up with the familiar NCN 700, that salty-old-sea-dog of a cycle route. Once I got through Levens, I planned to tuck under the wind and time-trial my way back down to Lancaster. I was determined to get home before the rain  if I could.

Having tackled the last short-but-steep hills in Levens, I emptied out onto the A6 near Levens Hall. At ten thirty I reached the Spar at Milnthorpe. It had closed, the trusty workers still  stocking and stacking. I used the garage forecourt for respite and stirred myself for the final push. Now I was racing a failing front light as well as the rain.

I stopped to replace the batteries once but my hands were so cold they lacked the dexterity to remove the casing from the light. So I rode faster instead. Before getting to Carnforth I decided I had to get it sorted. I stopped properly in a well-lit gateway and took my time over calmly fitting the new AA.

It was HDAU the rest of the way, apart from shouting "Hi" to the guy in Bolton-le-Sands. A few hints of rain had started but it was only as I got to Beaumont, on the north-side of Lancaster, that the rain started properly. At five past midnight I pushed up the hill and into my driveway. The rain was gathering force but the time-trial effort had saved me from a proper ducking.

This is why I prefer drop bars on my touring bicycle.

Route: Day 8