"Once in a Lifetime..."...

A civilised breakfast, knowing we only had a shortish pull to hand over at Cape Cornwall: a short pull that got longer with successive road signs "Newquay 12 miles" became "Newquay 13 miles", before peaking at "Newquay 15 miles".........."Road to Nowhere".......indeed. Bit of dodgy route finding saw me hit the A30 sooner than intended but at least the road surface was better than it would have been on the chosen route. Over the hills above St Ives, where the "Alice Blue" colour of the sea was an inspiration and I'm on the coast road......racing traffic, especially Roger, and giving it my best "racing" effort for the last day. Rocket down the 1 in 5 into Cape Cornwall to finish my stint. Hand over to John, then back out of Cape Cornwall and over to Sennen, where the bike is finally abandoned and we regroup to march over the coastal path to Lands End! A faster day on the bike: 70 rolling miles on the trusty old Tarmac in 3 hrs and 10 mins. Might be getting a bit fitter after all. Champagne, photos.......the crowds we could see on our approach turned out  not to be for us, just bemused tourists.......and off to the beach for a swim while Roger sits down to do some interviews with John and Marjorie. It's done. Sense of achievement? Well, as usual I think each of us values what the others did far more than his/her own contribution, so we'll have to hold fire on that analysis for a little while. Will follow up with one more post with some facts and figures.......probably reasonably impressive for four old gits with a combined age of  240......but in our own heads we still think we're all forever 17!!!!

"Well we know where we're going"........,,

Bristol to "somewhere on the North Cornwall coast" today. Somewhere at least as far as Bude and we'd be winning, I reckoned. Home turf through Devon so it's on with the County flag cycle shirt at 4:30 am and try and sneak out without disturbing Joanne too much. Still dark.......I guess I should have figured that might be the case but had obviously become accustomed to the shorter northern nights! Still, being a true "ex-triathlete" I still pop on the sunglasses......can't let a technical issue like pitch blackness get in the way of the right image, can we!! Lorries to Avonmouth, then through a bike- friendly Bristol and over the Clifton Suspension Bridge. " I said "Pig Pen, this here's the Rubber Duck; I just ain't gonna pay no toll".  So we crashed the gate doing 98, I said "Let those suckers roll, ten four"....disappointing, therefore, to find that there's no charge for cyclists......or pedestrians. I suppose that's so as not to discourage potential"jumpers". Anyway, the A 38 to Bridgwater was surprisingly interesting with a mix of run down and "still thriving" towns and villages. Approaching Bridgwater itself I was glad that the cellophane  works don't still blast out that foul odourI remember so well from water polo trips up and down the M5 from Exmouth. Round the back of the Quantocks and I soon remember just how "lumpy" today is going to be. Left at Williton (quick phone stop to check on Roger, who's getting a tyre fixed and Joanne, who's taking the speedier motorway route to intercept me.....somewhere) then it's up, up, up 20% for what seems like....and actually is....miles. Next stop Wheddon Cross for a sandwich and regroup and it feels great to sprawl on the warm Tarmac of the village store car park and take stock. Taking stock always seems to take some time so an hour is lost having food and a bit of a laugh. I love this part of the world: enjoy the challenge of training on difficult terrain and, once upon a time, won a couple of Age group races nearby! Hills across the moor then swoop into Barnstaple and on to the Atlantic Highway. Traffic is considerate in the main and we keep rolling along.....I've run out of H2Pro by now so the drink top ups are more frequent but less effective now....and we're over the border into Cornwall. Should I change the shirt?.......wouldn't want an "incident". Think I'll get away with it. Camelford (don't fill up the water bottle!)...... and finish for the day at Wadebridge. 180 miles today and only 70 to go............

Put me in the water.....

Amazing what Ibuprofen can do......we stood on the banks of Lyn Tegid on Sunday morning and looked at the perfect conditions. All we had to do was get a one-armed swimmer, her mother and a kayak across the railway line and past some sleeping anglers who would no doubt not appreciate our intentions to disturb their fish!
After all dissolving into helpless giggles not helped by the neoprene booties incident, we were off. I discovered I could still swim after all, just as long as I didn't pull properly!
This has got to have been one of the best swims of my life-perfect, beautiful conditions and we had it all to ourselves. After about an hour, the shoulders miraculously eased up and I could finally relax into a rhythm once more. It was all over too quick, quite tempting to turn around and do it again, but breakfast was calling and Richard had to be off on his ride through the rest of Wales on another hot and sunny day.

The ride started off hilly and then got a bit lumpy. We went through some beautiful places with strange names, New Invention, and I'm sure I saw a sign to Woebley Little Dillyn, as for what clientele stays at the Cock Hotel...........
After some brief stops to listen to the tennis - well done Murray! We headed for the Severn Bridge, where the promised bike path did indeed materialise and I didn't have to pay to come back over and pick up Richard from the hard shoulder of the M48!

A little bit higher now.....

I remember the last time I was in Llanberis in a heat wave. It was the day that Boris Becker won Wimbledon, he was 17 and about a third of his present size, I was 15, a skinny swimmer, about a.......
John was a rock climber in those days. Fell running was only done to get to the foot of the crag quickest, and to get home again 2hours later than you had promised, in the forlorn hope that your wife hadn't thrown away your tea and gone out!

Richard started the day with a 14mile hill climb from sea level to 1100+ft to handover to John and start the final run - the welsh 3000's. the early morning mist soon swirled away and evaporated to leave what Brendan Foster would term "inhuman conditions"! What a difference from 2 days ago. We of course spent the morning in Pete's Eats, making up for the fact we hadn't had a meal since Wednesday. We then rolled up the Pass and waited in the sunshine and I continued to persuade my arms that they might raise above shoulder height.
Of course the sunshine brought the crowds. The world, his wife, his cousin and their kids caught the train up Snowdon and then stood on the summit and wondered why. By late afternoon I had success with my right arm, almost full ROM, shame about the left! The substitutes were warming up for Llyn Tegid.
At 7pm John appeared at Pen Y Pass and Richard swooped off down to Bala!

"Cross eyed and Painless" (ful)

Another early alarm call at 4.15am, quick bowl of porridge and we were back at the lake. This morning's swim leg from Bowness to Fell Foot a little over 7miles. The water felt much cooler early morning though it was absolutely flat calm to start. From a swimmers point of view you don't really see much just vaguely aware of the scenery changing gradually and finally a beautiful sunrise. But other than a close encounter with a swan and a cameraman, nothing too exciting! After a few hours, the cold and leg cramps started to set in and I became aware of my shoulders starting to scream with the effort. The last few miles were awful which was a shame in such lovely surroundings-like having your own personal 11mile swimming pool. Nice of the RAF to give me a fly past as I finished. Unfortunately I am now unable to raise my arms above chest level so driving in support of Richard was a non-starter! He instead packed a rucksack of food and spares and set off, whilst I headed motorway-wards (no gear changes necessary) to Colwyn Bay. He arrived much later with tales of beer drinking and fighting his way through the North West - so a normal day out for him then!

"Water dissolving, water removing. There is water at the bottom of the ocean".......

Not only at the bottom of the oceanbut plenty in the northern skies as John set off up Skiddaw. With much of the country basking in glorious sunshine the weather gods assiduously continued to fail to send anything resembling dryness, sunshine or stillness our way. So his assault on the 3000 ft peaks in England began wet and windy; became mistier, wetter and windier before finally brightening up right at the end. Funny how that works. Inevitably, some time was lost early on and given John's role as mobile cameraman he would not get the chance to claw any back before handing over to me for a sprint to the lake, where Joanne would begin her epic! We'd always planned an evening swim but with John now not expected off Helvellyn until after 7:30 we would be looking at a late finish. The wind had swung round to the North West so we decided to put in at Ambleside and hopefully hit Bowness before total darkness set in. The water temperature was variable but Joanne soon settled into a rhythm and was moving smoothly southbound. Marjorie and Roger were in early support until Roger turned back to collect the van and film the finish. As darkness began to wrap itself around us we waited at Bowness for sight of the orange kayak, which duly hove into view at about 11 O'Clock. Not too cold but by the time we got back to the B and B we only had time for a bowl of porridge and 4 hrs sleep before getting up for a bowl of porridge and re-immersion.

" Find a city, find myself a city to live in".......

So three days of kayaking, running and cycling through the glorious scenery of the highlands.....I'm fairly sure there was scenery: we even spotted some of it through the clag from time to time.....is left a distant memory as the four forty five alarm kicks me out on to the mean streets of Glasgow. I didn't spot a " murrrderrrr" or any murrrderrrerrrrs, but even the quiet early morning comings and goings seemed so strange after the peace of the days afore. I know that Joanne and I live in a " local" community....every day a bit like an episode of The Archers....but this was a really strange experience. Unfortunately every traffic light was agin us and between that and getting slightly lost for a couple of miles the cross city traverse took a bit longer than anticipated. Even at that unearthly hour I was engulfed in clouds of cigarette smoke as I passed each bus stop and with many a passing car. We toured past signs for many a low ranking Scottish football teams: East Kilbride, Motherwell, Hamilton and eventually reached our B road heading south. So southbound and bumping along a lumpy road. No huge excitement unless you count my misnavigation up and on to the motorway......not my fault: Joanne and Roger also misinterpreted the same sign. Gretna: time for a photo stop and to finally shed a long sleeved layer. Find the sunnies which by now are buried very, very deep in the boot ...somewhere. Off to Carlisle and upwards into the Lakes. I'd forgotten what a long climb it is from Carlisle to Bothel. Then down to Bassenthwaite and up behind Skiddaw to where John starts (or rather, by now, "started") his run across Skiddaw, Scaffell, Scaffell Pike and Helvellyn. Day done! 137 miles with a lesser headwind. Grateful for small mercies. So far, then, 497 miles of biking with 37 000 feet of climbing; Cairngorm and Nevis range 4 000 ft peaks in the bag along with a 27 plus mile kayak up Loch Awe. Not too bad for a bunch of oldies!!!