Knaresdale with Kirkhaugh

So it's time to be upfront with the truth, I am not riding the C2C2C!

I am in fact starting 18 miles inland, still quite near the sea so let's call it the nC2C2C. Ronald, my friend from Arnhem and travelling companion for this adventure, is arriving via the overnight ferry from Amsterdam. Meeting him off the boat would have involved a very early departure that neither me nor my driver were particularly enthused about. The planned meeting point had 2 advantages - an extra hour plus in bed for me and an extra hour plus in the saddle for Ronald, lessening the chance that I'd have to chase him up the first hill.

Komoot has 5 levels of fitness ranging from "I don't get out much" to "professional" and uses these to work out trip times. Ronald arrived at our meeting point in the time suggested for Level 4 "athlete", so for this trip at least we will be referring to ourselves as athletes.

After a sandwich and a tender, if somewhat tearful farewell (kidding), we were on our way. The first 17 miles were a gentle uphill cycle along tree-lined railway paths (thank you Mr Beeching) and while the moderate headwind didn't help, we made good time to the next feeding station (café). The descent into Stanhope was both exhilarating and frightening - the signposted advice to engage low gear is of no use to a cyclist! Keeping the speed under control for the numerous corners was a bit tense but knowing that the climb back out of the town had an almost identical profile was downright scary.

After Stanhope the climbing began in earnest. I wasn't too concerned - I had trained for the hills. But as I battled upwards chasing Ronald across an ever increasing amount of tarmac it was clear that so too had he. What was less clear was where he had found them in the Netherlands. The hills just kept on coming as we meandered through the lead mining history of the Pennines, some short and steep, some long and steep but we maintained our "Athlete" status, arriving in Alston around 6 pm.

Finding a drink in Alston is easy - there are lots of pubs. Enquiring of 2 barmaids who were sitting smoking outside theirs, beside the sign that said fresh food daily, we established they didn't do food, not on a Sunday. One of them recommended we try the Angel Arms but was reliably informed by the other that was the pub they worked at and they didn't do food - not on a Sunday. Sensing her colleague wasn't up to the task, barmaid No. 2 took over. "Go to the end of the street and turn left (...pauses, holds up both her hands and looked from one to the other....) yes, turn left at the end of the road" she said, while swinging her right arm to the right in emphasis. We hedged our bets on the swinging arm, sensing a visual impression of direction may prove the more reliable. It wasn't........Read more