Training Log Archive: OutdoorsMama

Bike to train station, train to Commondale, bike to Goathland

No tent to pack up this morning! And no breakfast dishes to wash. I think this is what hotels/B&Bs call "traditional English breakfast" Baked beans in tomato sauce. Blood sausage (yup, I ate it!) Potatoes, eggs, what we would call peameal bacon, toast, Muslix, stewed tomatoes, and a cappucino (well, it was there, so I couldn't pass it up).

We biked back to the train station....much easier when you know where you are going! We even navigated a 2 lane roundabout (not much traffic at 8:00 am on a Saturday). Boarded the train for Middlebourgh, then did a fast switch to Commondale (which was the train to Whitby). The trains were quite full. I think it is so neat that it is so easy to take the train in the UK! There were 8 fellows ahead of us who might've been heading to Whitby to go to the horse (or dog?) races. That's pretty neat....take the train 50 miles, relax, chat with you buddies, check out the race program.....sure beats fighting traffic on the M6 or 401 or I-96.

So we got off the train at Commondale. AKA the middle of nowhere. There was a "traffic free route" on my bike map there. It was a two-track gravel lane, between stone walls, basically skirting a side-hill, through sheep and cattle pastures. Absolutely lovely. Of course, it would've been a blast to bomb along it with a mountain/hybrid/CX/gravel bike, but we didn't get too carried away with our loaded down bikes.

Then we got on pavement and got into some of the steeper hills we've had. This was the northern edge of the North York Moors. The hills weren't all "pushers", but there were some pretty steep stretches. Lunch was in a hall built by the Ancient Order of Shepherds (or something like that) in Lealholm. Another test of the Cream Tea.......yummmmmy.

Danby had a "pusher" of a hill, and at the top, more sheep on the road that we've seen yet (I would say that we were still "in town", so I found it quite comical). There were a few road bikers in this area....a popular route. We didn't quite stick to the labelled bike route, choosing to stay closer to the river (which certainly was no guarantee of a flat route).

I origainally planned to get to Grosmont and take the steam train to Goathland, but the sun was shining, and we hadn't done much biking today, so we opted to ride there. Luckily we were both in a good mood as we ended up on some of the steepest hills we have seen on this trip. We were sure the sheep were radioing ahead to other flocks, as they all seemed to be laughing at us as we pushed our bikes up the hills. I know I am not the best at running up hills, but it was very hard to push our bikes up the hills. There were a lot of black bramble berries on the hedges/stone walls as we ascended, and they were very tasty. Just when we thought we were up as high as we needed to go, we descended, and of course, had to ascend again. There was a gate and a sheep guard at the top, as we were getting into some more common grazing lands. A sign for a Roman Road tried to lure me away from our route..... It has been labelled as such for years and years, but the current thinking is that maybe the Romans didn't build it. No one has come forward to claim responsibility for building it (!), and local (ancient) lore is that a family of giants built it. So it will be interesting to watch to see what historians figure out on this.

Goathland is Aidensfield on Heartbeat, and is also in a Harry Potter movie. It is such a picturesque town. Sheep grazing the wide grassy stretches along the "main street". We camped at a farm campground there (washrooms/showers/washing up facilities in a stone barn, where there were also bunks available.....something to think about in rainy/colder weather). Of course, public footpaths went in every direction, and we took a scenic walk into town from the campground along one, which was my first introduction to bracken: that stuff is easily 5' tall! One of the steam trains came in as we watched.....it just looked like a toy train. So cool! Supper at the Goathland Hotel, which is the pub in the Heartland TV show. Another good pub supper, and we squeezed in a bit of dessert too (treacle tart with custard sauce). And walked back to the peaceful campsite in the dark. It was a full-moon night, but it didn't rise until we were brushing our teeth and collapsing into our sleeping bags.

Peebles to Galashiels by bike, then train to Edinburgh, and then Darlington, then bike to hotel

A touch of rain in the night, but it had stopped by the time we got up (which was fairly early as we had a lot of miles to cover today, one way or another). I used up the last of the eggs and some stir fry veggies and made a omlette-thingy for breakfast. The campground office was open on our way out, so we paid for use of the patch of grass and the flush toilets.

As often happens, we had to work hard at navigation to get out of Peebles. But we found the bike route and set off on some more fairly moderate hills. We went by Traquair House, but it didn't open for an hour, so we kept going. It is the oldest, continuously inhabited house in Scotland (it is either a small castle, or a HUGE house). After we booked this trip, Paul found the inaugural edition of what was basically a gravel/off road race that was to be based out of this place, and it was going to take place during our trip. So we were going to arrange the trip around that. Unfortunately, in late May or so, after postponing the opening of the registration a few times, the organizers had to cancel it for the year, citing difficulties in getting permits for the event.

Innerleithen is a popular cycling area. So popular, there are many, many bike route signs. Except when there aren't signs. An intense map studying session and the luck of seeing the right sign that was hidden behind a huge hanging flower basket helped get us on the right route out of town, on another wonderfully quiet paved road.

This was a very pleasant ride......lots of effort needed on the uphills, but we didn't have to get off and push! We were on narrow, one lane paved roads for much of this leg. There were forestry activities taking place on the hills around us (coniferous trees have been planted in rows for years and years, and were getting harvested).

We made our way into Galashiels, as the sun came out. The bike path into the main part of town was all fixed up nicely with new pavement, and markers pointing the way to the train station. Oddly, there wasn't much choice in terms of restaurants near the train/bus stations, so we ended up at a place a little fancier than our usual dining establishments (it looked like Ladies Who Do Lunch and Retirees Who Do Lunch were most of the diners.....no other Bikers With Helmet Head Hair were noted in the restaurant). I was stressing a bit about this leg of the trip. I wanted to get down south to Darlington, which was over 2 hours from Edinburgh on the train. That train required reservations for bicycles, and I had tried to make reservations last night, but my Canadian credit card didn't work for some reason (hiccup in the National Rail reservation system). We took a regional train north to Edinburgh, and since we needed to make bike reservations, got in line at the ticket booth for a real person to book the ticket (the ticket machines couldn't handle bike reservations). In a very efficient manner, the woman booked us 2 tickets, with our bikes, through to Darlington, with the train leaving in 15 minutes!!!!!! (the next couple trains didn't have any more room for bicycles, so it was pretty well take it or see ya tomorrow!). I wouldn't have minded a wee bit of time in Edinburgh to poke around, so I guess I'll have to come back.

We jogged with our bikes to the far end of the platform (we are getting these Virgin trains figured out), and yes, the bike compartment was pretty full. We had to take our panniers off to allow room for other bikes, but left them in the bike compartment. Then we jogged back a few cars to get to a non-first-class car, and found a couple non-reserved seats. And the train was heading out of the station!

As we flew south, I enjoyed the scenery (ironically, this is probably one of the flatter sections of northern England). It was neat to see the North Sea along the far side of wheat fields.

At Darlington, it was a bit of a mad rush to get our bikes and panniers off the train in the couple minutes the train was in the station. We navigated out way to the Blackwell Grange Hotel. Luckily, it must've been A Place Of Note as I saw a sign for it in a roundabout, so that helped. The employee at the front desk didn't shudder when she realized we were on bikes. But after looking at them, she realized that they were too big for the lift, so offered to store them in one of their locked rooms on the main floor (we could've carried them up the stairs, but since they were offering......)

It was kind of a posh place, but clothing choices of diners ranged from jeans in their pub venue to much fancier dress in their restaurant, so we fit in (we wore jeans.....not bike shorts). Supper included a Sticky Toffee Pudding (cake), which we shared. Delish! And no tent to set up.

Dalston to Peebles (train from Carlisle to Glascow, then down to Carstairs)

We set the alarm for 6 am, after having packed up as much as we could the night before. We had a train reservation today, so had a pretty firm deadline to meet. It didn't take as much time to pack up as we allowed for, which gave us a comfortable buffer on the morning. At the Crumbles cafe in Dalston, we each got a breakfast sandwich (bacon buttie for me, sausage and bacon buttie for Paul), and tucked them into our panniers. We took the delightful paved bike path back into Carlisle, meeting several boys on their way to school on their bikes. Once we were very comfortable with our timing, we stopped along the river to eat our breakfast.

At the train station, I found a much-needed power outlet and put some charge in the battery pack and in my phone (I had drained the battery pack charging Garry in the night). We had a pleasant chat with the Virgin Trains employee as she waited with us at the bike-loading spot on the platform. She wondered where we were going, and didn't exactly say it was odd to be going to Carstairs, but she did hesitate a bit when I said that was our destination. She knew of a prison at Carstairs, and that was all she knew about the place. No doubt she was really wondering what these tourists were up to!

Our bikes had the bike compartment to themselves, and we moved through the carriages until we found some non-first class seats (and another much appreciated power outlet). The train sprinted north to Glascow, where we changed trains and headed back southeast to Carstairs. This regional train had a power outlet too, thankfully. I chatted with an Irish fellow who had been in Scotland fishing.....he had a bundle of fly fishing rods and a cooler of fish!

At Carstairs, we had a nasty double set of stairs to climb with the bikes to get off the platform and up onto the street. The hills weren't too bad as we made our way to Carnwath (and yes, we rode by the prison facility the Virgin Trains employee had mentioned).

This was another item on my bucket list: my maternal grandmother's paternal grandfather was born in this part of Scotland. The family had a castle then, but it was sold to a private citizen in the last few decades, so I couldn't go see the ancestral home, so to speak. My middle name is from that side of the family. In Carnwath, we found some lunch (meat pies!) and made our way back to the old church we had passed on the way in. We poked around the graveyard for a while, and only found a mention of the family name on a plaque on the side of the church. I was trying to remember the family history book, and had a feeling that the small chapel on the side of the church was actually where my ancestors were buried. I slipped into a neighbouring inn, and confirmed that this was indeed the only old church/graveyard in town. He said it was a pity that the chapel wasn't open to the public on a day to day basis (it is from the 16th century!!!!!) Paul had noticed that the local Lodge was named after the family (I hadn't known that ahead of time).

We headed south and east out of town, into some of the biggest fields we'd seen so far, and quite moderate hills. There were much bigger hills around us, but the road followed the valley. Of course, there was enough time spent in the bottom gears, even with a bit of a tail wind, but we didn't have to get off and push. The sun came out and it was quite a warm day. We weren't on a labelled cycling route, but it was a nice B road with not much traffic (although what traffic there was seemed to go fast). We stopped at another graveyard, and saw many surnames that are familiar to southern Ontario, especially to the farming community.

At Biggar, I am sure there was no sign leading to the main junction telling us which way the B road went through town. We took a scientific guess and picked the wrong way, so turned around and found our way out of town (we had opted not to take the cycling route, but it wasn't labelled through here anyways). Again, some relatively moderate hills, but no "pushers".

Broughton had a pubic washroom in the park, and the park provided a good place to eat the dessert we had purchased in Carnwath. A park employee gave us some idea of the topography of the recommended cycle route north of the river, versus the road south of the river. On his advice, we took the road south of the river and did not regret the choice. Really nice riding, and of course, beautiful scenery. It was not at all flat, which meant there were some wonderful views at the high points. This was along the River Tweed. He also seconded my motion for the campground in Peebles (whew!) It seemed like we took the long way 'round to get into Peebles, and Garry wanted us to go up a road that was clearly marked Closed. If it was earlier in the day, we might've tried it, but it was getting later, and if Closed meant The Bridge Over The River Tweed Is Gone, that would've been a frustrating back-tracking experience.

The campground office was closed as we came in, but the tent camping area was clearly marked (at the top of the hill), but we made it up and set up for the night. Then walked down into the town for a pub supper. Local musicians (classic guitars etc) were coming in as we were heading out. It would've been neat to catch their jam session, but we were exhausted (as usual) and craved out sleeping bags.

Dalston to Barton Mills then to Hadrian's Wall sites, and return (train from Carlisle to Barton Mills)

There was a train station in Dalston, so we biked down to the town in the morning to catch a train east to the Hadrian Wall sites we wanted to see. At the Crumbles Cafe where Paul stopped to get a coffee, the owner suggested we take the bike path along the river into Carlisle. Well, we've been on some rather rambling/rugged "bike paths" so far, and I wasn't sure what part of Carlisle it would bring us into, so we stuck with the train option. Actually, finding the train station was a bit of a challenge, as even the lorry driver unloading steel at the machine shop that backed onto the train station didn't know where it was.

We changed trains in Carlisle (we're getting good at this!) and got off the train at Barton Mills. Garry lead us on a rather round-about way to the Vindolanda site, but there were road signs, so I believed him for most of the route. We met a couple on road bikes as we turned down the road for Vindolanda. As usual, my Canada jersey prompted a discussion. Her brother moved to Toronto and they were hoping to go visit next year and wondered where they could go biking....."fast, road biking". We suggested checking out the Collingwood area, figuring that they'd be good with the hills there.

Vindolanda was a Roman town, but wasn't actually on Hadrian's Wall, being located just south of it. It is still actively being excavated. In fact, you can sign up to take place in the excavation. It was like the TVO show Time Team! Lots of good signage provided explanations for the different parts of the ancient town....baths, graneries, barracks, the commanding officer's residence...... And a very good museum, with artifacts that have been excavated there. A very good place to visit.

http://www.vindolanda.com/

Then it was on to Homesteads, another Roman site, that was on Hadrian's Wall. Hadrian's Wall has been on my bucket list since grade 11 history. And I saw it. And touched it. And walked along it. And on it. Totally cool. We also saw Sycamore Gap, which is in a Robin Hood movie (not that Robin Hood was that far north, but it is a cool setting for a scene in a movie).

http://www.english-heritage.org.uk/visit/places/ho...

Yes, there were hills, but we didn't have to get off and push (this is a major victory.....of course, we only had rain gear and running shoes and snacks in our panniers). At Homesteads, we saw a tandem touring bike, and I correctly guessed which woman in the gift shop was riding it. They are from Oregon and are on an 11 week tour of western Europe and the British Isles.

We had a pretty good idea of how to get back to the train station, without completely retracing our morning route (that would've involved a lot of backtracking). We enjoyed a long downhill, coming down from the Roman sites. Interestingly, I could smell pipe smoke as I came around a corner, and there was a fellow with a decent sized backpack walking down the hill, smoking a pipe. We were about 45 minutes early for the train, and as we waited, he walked up on the platform for the eastbound train. A few other walkers joined us on the westbound platform, and a few more on the eastbound platform. What a pleasant way to spend the day......take the train to the country, walk 10-15 miles to the next town, up and over the fells, then take another train back home.

At the Carlisle train station, I booked tickets for tomorrow's journey. It is kind of a weird one.....North, then fairly south again, but the direct train leaves at 6:52 am, which wasn't going to happen. And we found the bike path that leads back to Dalston. And it was wonderful! Paved, relatively flat, winding, picturesque......

Supper was from the Dalston Fryer......haggis and chips to go for me, fish and chips to go for Paul. And a fine cider from the Co-op.

I did a small load of laundry. And we collapsed into our sleeping bags, as usual, after doing as much packing for morning as we could.

Low Wray to Dalston, via Carlisle (train from Windermere to Carlisle)

Of course, after my rained-on, fogged-in trip up The Old Man of Coniston yesterday, today dawned clear and sunny. That only made leaving harder for me. We rode down a traffic free route along the west side of Lake Windermere, through some nice woods. A ferry took us to the east side of the lake, and we didn't have too much trouble finding the train station. We picked up a couple Cornish Pasties to eat on the train (we love the pasties we get in the UP of MI, and these, were, ummm, even better.) We changed trains in Oxenholme, then headed north to Carlisle on a fast Virgin Train.

In Carlisle, we walked our bikes up the pedestrian mall to the traditional Market Cross. Then we headed to the Cathedral and enjoyed a good dose of history there. As is often the case, a talented interpreter can make what could be a dull topic quite interesting. This building was spared the indecency of having the lead stripped from the roof when Cromwell came through, so has lived on as a church, for hundreds of years.

http://www.carlislecathedral.org.uk/home

Then we walked over to the Carlisle Castle. Mary, Queen of Scots, was imprisoned there. And it has been the site of battles and a reinforced residence of sorts etc since the double digits of the AD years. That's some of the cool stuff I so wanted to see in the UK.

http://www.english-heritage.org.uk/visit/places/ca...

The sky was rather grey and looked like rain as we headed south out of the city towards our campsite. I had only found a place that seemed to be predominately caravan camping (and caravan sales), but I had emailed them and they did had a tent camping area. We were on a B road, but it was very busy as everyone rushed home from the city at the end of the day. It started to spit a bit, and suddenly, there was a caravan camping place on the right hand side of the road. It had come up quicker than I expected, and I thought it was on the left side of the road, but no worries. The fellow at the office welcomed us, and told us it would be 5 pounds a night. "Each?" I asked. No, that was for the two of us. (Other places had been 12-20 pounds per night). With very nice washroom/shower facilities. He lead us through the caravans that were for sale, and had us camp in the backyard. Uh-huh. There were 3 or 4 caravans on very nice pitches on the other side of a board fence, but we were in the backyard. Whatever! The spitting rain was getting more serious, so we sprinted to set up the tent.
We were getting pretty good at that, so had everything we needed under cover in a few minutes.

After hanging out for no more than 20 minutes in the tent, the rain stopped and so we biked down into Dalston for supper. And about a mile up the road, on the lefthand side, was the campground I had emailed to check to see if they had tenting pitches. Oh well! A pleasant supper at the Blue Bell Inn came next.....I had a Cumbrian Sausage, which was a LOT of sausage. And yummy mashed potatoes, real gravy, and a nice bit of steamed broccoli.

Paul picked up some milk for breakfast at the Co-op grocery store, and we rolled our way back up the hill to the unintended (but perfectly fine) campsite. We had brought lights with us, and although it wasn't that dark, the greyness of the evening made having lights a wise thing to do.

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Old_Man_of_Conisto...

The park attendant at the National Trust campsite showed me the hourly weather forecast:. 10% chance of rain all day. So guess who didn't bring her rain gear? And had to duck into a tourist shop to buy a £9.99 raincoat when the 10% turned into 100%?

I picked up a wonderful waterproof mini ordnance survey map, had a cream tea, and set off to see the Old Man. I pushed and rode my bike to the Youth Hostel, and locked it up there (which was a few hundred metres past the access point for the trail..... probably would've been ok to lock it to a tree there).

The trail was well worn. I met a few folks coming down the hill who assured me it was completely fogged in and raining at the top (the rain stopped part way through my cream tea session). I forged on, and even though it was completely socked in by fog for the top third, went all the way up. The trail was less well worn by now. I was very careful where I put my feet as a slip and a slide would have put me over the edge and out of sight. A couple places, I was wondering if I would have to scoot down on my backside, as it was so steep/scattered with shale.

It was kind of creepy at the top as the fog was so thick. I was worried I would pick the wrong trail to descend, and end up at another village, but the trail started to consistently look familiar, so I carried on down the hill.

Maybe I can come back on a clear day. Or climb another Lake District peak. But I had better not wait 35 years this time.

Low Wray to Coniston and back, via Hawkshead

I was going to take B roads to Hawkshead and on to Coniston, but just outside the campground, there was a marked gravel cycle path going through a pasture....with signage to Hawkshead! Several steep hills, gates and cow pies later, it started to rain. In earnest. Thanks for the 10% chance of rain forecast. The Co-op grocery store in Hawkshead (Beatrix Potter fame) had some good choices for energy/protein snacks. And there were some steep hills up and down on the way to Coniston .... of course. I passed the entry to a popular mountain biking forest....so many things to do, so little time.
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The ride back saw me in granny gear, grinding my way up from Coniston, up to Hawkshead. Then the gravel bike trail back to camp where Paul was whipping up a couple delicious camping dishes (all food is delicious after that much climbing!)

Paul finished off a small load of laundry while I was off on my adventure, and had made his way to Hawkshead as well, checking out the tiny streets and a local brew.

The Americans showed up today....what were the odds of ending up at the same campground again? We had a good chat with them down by the water after the sun set. Basketball, US politics, (American) football were covered, but bikes, bike shops and bike adventures were strongly featured during the conversations. If a new bike shop opens in Squamish BC, we knew about it first :)

Hawes to Low Wray (train from Kendal to Windermere)

The morning dawned sunny and cool. Showers were 20 pence for 5 minutes. I don't mind paying for a good shower, and this was a good one. I also gladly made a donation to the Yorkshire Air Ambulance fund as the campground owners had charged a few of our devices over night (I hope I don't need the air ambulance....). After breakfast and packing up, and saying good-bye to the Americans, we dropped down into Hawes and went to the Wensleydale cheese shop/creamery/gift shop. You could sample many, many different cheeses, and we selected two to take on the road with us.

There was an A road and a B road to our next destination. A fellow at the campground recommended the B road, for it's picturesque factor, and, well it is a B road so won't be as busy as an A road. The B road turned out to be a speedway for motorcycles. Many of them zoomed by us as we made our way up, up and up to the top of the Yorkshire Dales. We stopped on a stone wall by a farmyard for a snack (cheese). It was sunny, but the west wind was certainly not helping us out. Eventually, we made it to the top of the hill. For real this time! There was a long descent. We met the guys with the panniers from a couple days ago preparing to go up this hill. We had basically come up the long side, and they were going to do the same elevation gain in a much shorter distance. Better them than us! Next we had a relatively flat journey along a river. The river was flowing west, the same direction as we were riding. That means that our ride is net downhill! This was a lovely, ride along the river....little houses, sheep (of course), wonderful views as we climbed to higher places along the way.....

Lunch was at a pub in Dent.....a town that time hasn't touched. Cobblestone streets, low doorways, narrow streets....absolutely wonderful.

We got into some climbing as we essentially changed watersheds and got into the Lake District. Granny gear got a workout after we crossed the Motorway. Garry was not a popular fellow through here. I wanted to get to Kendal. Garry did not select the labeled cycling route. He did not choose the B roads. He put us right on the A road. It was shorter than the B road/cycling route, but it was a busy enough road. However, vehicles were very patient, and only passed when it seemed safe to do so.

At Kendal, we'd just missed the train to Windermere.....but no fear, the next one would be along in 45-50 minutes. It wasn't far to Windermere, but at sub-10 mph with hills and map-reading stops, a 15-20 minute train ride would give us a break, and would help get us to our planned campground before dark.

A woman showed up on a road bike, awaiting the train back to Manchester. She was training for a long ride, and had ridden from Manchester that day (close to 80 miles, I think she said). It had taken us 3+ days! Of course, we had taken the round-about/indirect/hilly route, and weren't riding unladen road bikes. She had basically taken the hypotenuse of the triangle, whereas we had taken the other two sides, and then some. I think Paul was really doubting my route selection after this conversation, but I explained that I had really wanted to see the Yorkshire Dales and Bolton Abbey and Hawes. Really!

Garry was very uncooperative in Windermere too, sending us on a wild goose chase until I just pulled my map out and took the lead. We went north around the head of the lake at Ambleside, then back south on the west side until we got to the National Trust campground at Low Wray. Yup, more steep hills on the last bit of this route too, but I was determined to get there before dark.

At the campground office (7:10 pm), the employees had locked it up and were leaving. The sign said it was open until 8 pm, but they were switching from High Season hours to fall hours, and hadn't changed the sign yet. I think they were a little miffed that we showed up that late without a reservation, so reluctantly gave us a campsite number in the field across from the office. No problem! Ironically, the field was set up with something like 40 pitches, and we were about tent #8 there. So there was lots of room for everyone!

This was Lake Windermere. One of the lakes that Arthur Ramsom hybridized in his Swallows and Amazons books. And I was on its shore. At long last!