Settle > Gargrave > Barnoldswick > Colne > Hebden Bridge
The final day of the trip. I ended up cycling alone almost all the way back from Settle to Hebden Bridge. Here's how it happened.
The previous evening in Settle I'd attempted to charge up my mobile. The charger had been temperamental for a while. I suspect there was a break in the lead somewhere. I only had one bar of power left on the phone, but no amount of cajoling could entice the charger to give it any juice. So I gave up. When I tried to unplug the charger from the power socket, it seemed stuck. I finally wrenched it out and in the process ripped out the top prong of the charger plug which was left sticking out of the wall socket. Oops. Before too long I had a dead phone and no charger. Just when I was about to need it...
After our final splendid B&B breakfast of the week, we departed from Settle just before 10. The weather was overcast but mercifully dry. Leaving the town proved to be a bit tricky due to unobvious signage, but having wasted about half an hour looking for it we picked up route 68 and set off - to discover that we were immediately presented with a stiff up and down climb. Bah. The pace for the first hour was frustratingly pedestrian for me and I was keen to push on. Several times during the trip I went on ahead of the other two and then stopped to wait for them to catch up. With their agreement I waved them goodbye with the customary understanding that I'd wait for them at the next settlement of reasonable size. That was the last I'd see either of them until 4 pm.
I pushed on quite happily through the village of Airton and then, a couple of miles further along the road at a place called Winterburn, came the error. Arriving at a junction, I saw a cycling route sign pointing left and understandably, followed it. This took me through the village of Hetton and eventually to a place called Cracoe where not surprisingly I struggled to pick up any signs for route 68. A bit further along the B6265 I did see a sign but this was for NR 688 (Way of the Roses). Something had gone wrong. I'd passed a garden centre a little way back up the road which had a cafe attached and a friendly sign stating that cyclists and bikers were welcome. So I decided to go in and have a coffee break and ask for directions. The girl working behind the counter couldn't really help, but as luck would have it a couple of motorcyclists happened to be in the cafe at the time and they pointed out where I'd gone wrong. I'd wandered off the edge of the Sustrans map in the process, so no wonder I couldn't find my bearings.
I set off again just after midday and retraced my steps back through Hetton to the junction. Once there I realised that I should have gone right and not left: the cycling arrow pointing left was for NCN route 10 (the Reivers route) and the aforementioned Way of the Roses. The sticker for route 68 was pasted to the pole and wasn't clear at all. I suspect this was designed for those approaching from the south rather than the north.
 |
| The offending junction. |
On the road to Barnoldswick I was supposed to turn off and get onto the canal towpath, but the sign wasn't clear and I missed it. I decided to take the main road past the Rolls Royce factory into the town and pick up the canal route there. Seconds later, I got stung by wasp! I was just cycling along, minding my own business, when I suddenly felt a sharp stinging pain on my left ankle. Looking down, there was a blasted wasp there. It managed to stab me twice before I flicked it off. The area swelled up nicely and throbbed painfully for some time. Ouch.
So, Barnoldswick. Route 68 follows the canal towpath through the east of the town, but once there I couldn't easily spot a way of getting onto it. So I stayed on the main road and eventually picked up route 68 again a mile further on at Salterforth, where I joined the canal. This was a really nice section for a few miles. The sun almost came out and it was warm and pleasant. And flat. It's a shame that this section wasn't a little longer.
The next stretch was a bit odd. Leaving the canal as it approached Colne, you were sent twisting your way through the middle of nowhere and then up a nasty steep hill. The arrow then directed you along a rough road into some trees. I debated whether to ignore it and keep to the road I was on, but I followed it in the end. To my surprise, the track shortly burst out into Alkincoats Park in Colne, which was very pleasant... in contrast to the town itself. I had to go through the centre of Colne to find my exit. After wasting twenty minutes cycling around trying to locate the way out, a nasty surprise awaited me when I eventually did pick up the route in the shape of a particularly steep hill. Argh, it was a calf-burning killer for day 5.
Ahead of me I had the climb over the tops at Widdop Crags to Hebden Bridge to look forward to. I'd not stopped for anything to eat since breakfast, so my energy levels were flagging a bit. Being on my own meant that I hadn't felt secure enough to leave my bike unattended while I dashed into a shop on the journey so far. Salvation seemed to present itself when the Coldwell Park Cafe came into view. I nipped inside, dreaming hungrily of some hot soup and a sandwich... only to discover that they were closing for the day! Wretched luck. I think the girl working there felt sorry for me and offered to make me a brew in consolation, but as I had plenty of liquids on me I decided to turn her down and crack on. Hebden was only an hour away so I pressed on. The climb was a bit of a killer. The weather turned a bit drizzly up there as well. I was very happy to start dropping down towards Heptonstall. I made it back to Bryn's house at 4 - there was just one last hill to climb to his house, which seemed a doddle. I'd literally just walked in and was propping up my bike in his kitchen when Bryn himself turned up. Great timing.
So what did happen to the other two? It turned out that they'd made exactly the same mistake as me and had turned left at that junction and had also emerged onto the B6265 at Cracoe. We must have only just missed each other - rotten luck. They'd used their phones to access the internet to get their bearings and had then decided that they'd had enough of being sent around the middle of nowhere and wanted to get home the quickest way. So they'd stuck mostly to main roads and had headed south via Skipton to Keighley before splitting, destinations being Hebden Bridge and Halifax respectively.
Day Stats
49.2 miles
Average speed: 11.09 mph
Top speed: 36 mph
Wheel time: 4 hrs 26 mins
So it was all over. I think we were all knackered by the end of the week. It was hard work at times and felt more like an endurance event than a cycling holiday. Perhaps next time we'll pick somewhere flatter.
But that wasn't quite the end of the tale.
The following day (Saturday 13th) I decided to cycle back alone to the Fylde. It turned into a bit of a mini-adventure in itself, when I reached Whalley and in a comical blunder started following the wrong Lancashire cycleway route (91, not 90) which took me to the south of Preston before a friendly passing cyclist put me back on track just outside Gregson Lane. As it happened, it only meant that it took me an hour longer to get home than it should otherwise have done, with the bonus that I did even more miles for the bumper weekly total. I got back eventually with these stats for the day:
68.38 miles
Average speed: 13.7
Top speed: 33.6 mph
Wheel time: 4 hrs 59 mins
Total miles for the week: 341.14
Perhaps not surprisingly, this was a personal record by some margin.
And on the seventh day, I rested.
No comments:
Post a Comment