Wednesday 5 June.
2pm and I am at Chesterfield railway station ready to begin the 14-mile ride to Hathersage. The station is not the lowest point in the town but it is still an uphill pull before I am within the shadows of the crooked spire. There are many opinions as to how the spire became twisted but I can reveal the truth. It was a dark and stormy night (it is always a dark and stormy night in these stories). Let me begin again. It was a dark and stormy night and an elf was flying home, cold, wet, and tired. He arrived at Chesterfield and rested on top of the tower. Being lost he held on and leaned out look for a sign to tell him were he was. The spire has been twisted ever since.
Of the 14 miles I have to ride, nine of them are uphill. Mostly gently uphill but for the final two miles, before I arrive at Owler Bar. Here is a large one-way road system, three quarters of a mile all the way round, right on top of the moors. Even in the 1960's this seemed under-used but it must be remembered that it was built before motorways came along and this was the main artery for goods from the manufacturing towns of the South Riding to the industrial cities of Manchester, Liverpool and the north west.
From Owler Bar it is a white-knuckle ride to Hathersage, down hill and sweeping bends. Unfortunately the hill finishes in the centre of the village, which is always busy with traffic and rather slows down the ride.
After a meal in one of the cafes I am across the road and booked into the hostel, a large house overlooking the village.
Thursday 6 June
I started later than I had intended to-day but make the most of the flat roads along the Hope Valley before turning into Bamford and across the head of Ladybower dam. That is the last I will see of flat roads to-day - in fact it is probably the last I will see of flat roads for the next two weeks.
A steady climb takes me over Strines Moor. There are some stunning views along this route which passes moorland and reservoirs, this is Derbyshire at it's best. There are also some very steep hills, this is Derbyshire at it's worst!
After a short and very busy section of main road I am into Yorkshire and the 'Last of the Summer Wine' village of Holmfirth, after which I descend to the village of Meltham. I enjoy many happy memories along with my lunch break, I lived in the village for six years and the surrounding area is outstanding - well worthy of the name 'God's Country'.
The roads are now hard work into and out of the steep sided valleys before I reach Scammondon dam and cross over the M62 motorway. At Ripponden I am reduced to walking uphill.
Within sight (well almost) of my destination the road is closed. Not just closed but cyclists can get round, closed full-stop. This means a deviation which takes my down to the Calder Valley floor via a collection of steep, narrow roads surfaced with the original cobbled setts. I walk the final section as there are large pieces missing.
It is now a main road ride through Mytholmroyd and Hebden Bridge to Toddmorden before I can cross the river and climb to the hostel in the village of Mankinholes, high on the valley side.
The hostel is a converted stone-built manor house offering first rate accommodation. I have been on the road (including breaks) for eight and a quarter hours but have covered only 56 miles - I am in bed at a quarter to nine.
Friday 7 June
Out of bed at 8 o'clock this morning, after 11 and a quarter hours asleep.
The direct route to Haworth to-day is around 15 miles, in order to stretch it out a bit I have added and extra section over the moors.
The sweep down to Hebden Bridge is good this morning, although care is needed on the twisting roads. The easy ride soon comes to an end as I take the road to Heptonstall - it goes up and up, getting steeper as it goes. In the village itself I am again reduced to walking over cobbled setts. By the end of the town I don't feel as though I want to get back on the bike again.
The ride over Heptonstall Moor is enjoyable, rolling countryside, a smooth road surface and remarkably, no fast-food wrappers. Maybe the 'no-brainers' think it is a no-brainer to come up here to dump their rubbish.
After a break in Trawden I turn back on myself and aim for Haworth over Dove Stones moor - which does have a trail of fast-food wrappers.
A lunch-time arrival gives me chance to see the stream trains on the Worth Valley railway. On my way to the hostel at Longlands Hall I discover a rather 'personalised' front garden. Talking with a passer-by it seems the owners take everything in over the winter and bring them out again in the spring - must be a task to cut the grass.
Longlands Hall was built in 1884 for the owner of a Worsted mill. Over the years it has seen many uses including a hostel for immigrant mill girls during the second world war. Renovated to it's original condition it offers terrific overnight accommodation.
Saturday 8 June
With only a 14-mile journey to Earby to-day I am in no hurry to depart, this could in part be my reluctance to climb the steep hill out of Haworth.
I have to follow my route of yesterday back towards Colne so the steep hills I toiled up are now the easy freewheel rides to-day. By the same count yesterdays freewheels are to-days hard climbs! With a tail wind I make good progress, even sprinting up some of the hills.
Who in their right mind drives out here into the hills to dump a bath?
After a break in Colne I continue over the moors to Earby. I had always imaging this to be a sleepy little village, but viewed from above I see a small, former cotton producing town with row upon row of terraced houses and several factories with tall chimneys. Whether the factories still produce anything is another question. I may be doing the town an injustice, if I am I apologise, but it seems as though the heart has gone out of the place.The hostel is on a quiet edge of town. Just the opposite to last nights Longlands Hall this is a small terraced cottage. Previously the home of Katharine Bruce Glasier, a pioneer of the labour movement, being a founding member of the Independent Labour Party in 1893 and who became the only woman on the first administrative council.
Sunday 9 June
The sky is overcast as I leave this morning on the 28-mile journey to Malham. The hills are now much more forgiving and I ride through Hellifield to take a look at the railway station. Opened on 1 June 1880 by the Midland Railway it had, and may still have, the longest continuous cast iron canopy in the country. It was restored to it's former glory during 1994 but is now looking ready for more care.
My lunch stop to-day is the Dalesman Cafe in Gargrave which has long been a magnet for local cyclists. To-day is no exception and it is almost 'standing room only'.
From here I have a steady six miles to the hostel at Malham. This was designed by and dedicated to the architect and town planner John Dower who spent a large part of his life pressing for the establishment of the Peak District National Park, the results of which we now all take for granted. The hostel is a fitting memorial.
Monday 10 June
I am happy to set off in cooler temperatures today but son get warm after one and a half miles of a 1-in-7 gradient out of Malham. It is a hard climb but whilst stopping at the top for a drink I can see the three peaks of Ingleborough, Whernside and Pen-y-gent. Just me, the view and a flock of curlews. What a way to start the day!
On the run down to Settle I am covering a long straight section at just over 40mph when, as a round a bend, two events cause me to loose speed. One is a flock of chickens in the road the other is a sign telling me I am about to go uphill again at 1-in-7. 40 to three in a few yards.
After Settle a single track road takes me into Lancashire and the scenery changes almost immediately to wide valleys, woodlands and rolling hills.
Slaidburn is a very quiet village with not a lot other than a pub, a post office and the hostel - a perfect location in fact. An old coaching in the hostel retains it's stables and has very cosy and comfortable rooms (not in the stables!).
Tuesday 11 June
Leaving Slaidburn this morning I can see rain over to my left in Forest of Bowland but the road ahead of me is clear. I do feel a few spots as I ride down to Wigglesworth and Settle but nothing to get worried about.
Luckily from Settle to Ribble Head I have a tail wind. It does not help on the uphills but makes riding along the flat very relaxing.
Weather in the high Pennines can change very quickly, as it can in all mountainous regions. For this reason whenever I am am at Ribble Head I always check with the weather forecasting board outside the Station Hotel.
Turning towards Hawes for the final 11 miles of my ride I now have a cross wind, making riding very difficult up and over Newby Head from where the road is generally (but not always) downhill to Hawes.
This is the county boundary marker at Newby Head. Just to the right is a new sign stating 'Welcome to Richmondshire'. How many new counties can we invent?
No visit to Hawes is complete without a meal at the 'Chippie Cafe'. You will go a long way to beat their fish and chips, in fact you will go so far you will probably be coming back round from the other direction.
During the evening I stand in the lounge of the hostel and watch the light fade over Stag Fell, a beautiful evening.
Wednesday 12 June
By contrast to last night, this morning I am unable to see Stagg Fell through the rain, which eases off a little by the time I am out of the door and pointing in the direction of Garsdale Head. At Garsdale station I cross into Cumbria and the route immediately begins to point downhill as I pass Wild Boar Fell, already I like Cumbria.
In Kirkby Stephen I am glad I have only sports energy drinks in my bottles.
Further into the ride I spot four portable toilets on a grass bank by the side of a river. I take it this is a popular local beauty spot, judging by the piles of litter I am probably correct. It turns out to be the Eden Valley.
Arrival at the village of Dufton is just after mid-day, giving me the afternoon to ride to the summit of Great Dun Fell. At 2,067 feet this is the second highest mountain in the Pennine range and due to having a satellite tracking station on the summit has a tarmac road all the way. The ride involves climbing for just just under four and a half miles. The cloud-base comes in at 1,400 feet so forget sight-seeing, just keep going. There are some steep sections but most of it is just hard. The summit has an average of 114 days per year of gale force winds and to-day seems one of those days. I am told on a clear day it is possible to see as far as the Isle of Man, I am lucky to see across the road. On the way back the view, once I get below the clouds is outstanding, even though I cannot see the coast.
All the hard work has given me an ideal appetite for a meal and bed at Dufton hostel.
Thursday 13 June
This morning I make a detour on my route to Alston in order to look at 'Long Meg and her Daughters' (62 of them). A stone circle, (apparently) second only in importance to Stonehenge. The story is that the girls were turned to stone after some indiscretion, it must have been some party.
Continuing on my way to Alston the route takes me over Hartside Summit. As my approach is from steep country lanes by the time I reach the main road all the hard work is done, and it is a steady climb to the top, then a long freewheel to Alston.
After a break for lunch the next challenge is the appropriately named 'Killhope Summit', near Nenthead. At 2,057 feet it shares equal first place as the highest through tarmac road in the country.
Downhill into County Durham I achieved a personal best, freewheeling at 48 and a half miles an hour - shortly after I reach another 48 on a bumpy country lane on which I should not have been going at that speed. Over the moors in Weardale was hard work and I admit that near Rookhope I again reverted to walking. After a mile or so in Northumberland I was back into County Durham and to the hostel at Edmundbyers. Built in 1800, in 1851 it became the Moorside Inn and a Youth Hostel in 1936. On my last visit here I fell asleep in front of a large open fire. That has now gone and been replaced by central heating.
Next door I found more interesting garden ornaments.
Friday 14 June
With only 20 miles to ride to Langdon Beck to-day I am in no particular hurry to leave. When I do set off I am going nowhere fast due to a headwind, but with the views I have over Weardale, who cares. As I reach the top of a hill I find I have been riding for 45 minutes and covered five miles. Down the other side I am having to pedal hard to reach nine miles an hour.
In the village of St John's Chapel I begin the other equal first place in the contest for the highest through tarmac roads. This is an unclassified road, again to 2,057 feet. The hill goes up in a series of plateaus, which gives me something to aim at and a place to rest after a continuous fight with the headwind. Some of my stops are only a quarter of a mile apart and the whole climb takes almost an hour. From the summit I can see the weather closing in and by the time I reach Langdon Beck hostel three miles latter I am in pouring rain.
After a hot shower I begin to enjoy my meal looking over Cronkley Scar in beautiful sunshine, which turns to rain then back to sun before I have finished eating.
Saturday 15 June
Another round of rain/sun/rain this morning before I set off towards Middleton-in-Teesdale. The first five miles all generally downhill and I run them off at an average of 18.5mph. If not heading for the sun at least I seem to be leaving the rain behind. So much for that idea, at Middleton-in-Teesdale I have to stop to put on wet-weather clothing before I continue to my first break of the day in Barnard Castle.
From here I have a tailwind and quite flat roads for the next two hours before I decide to take a break in the village of Brompton, near Northalerton. As I stop outside a shop there is a notice on the door 'No hoods, No hats, No helmets, Do Not Lean Bikes on Window'. All for good reason I am sure, but I decide to ride the extra two miles to Northalerton and eat there.
The ride then takes me over the busy A19 road and a walk over a bridge to avoid a ford (I have fallen off in these before) and along through quiet and hilly lanes to the village of Osmotherley, on the edge of the North York Moors, where the hostel is in a converted linen mill building.
Sunday 16 June
After once again walking over the bridge to avoid the ford I am out onto the A19 for about two miles, which has quite a wide hard shoulder, before I can turn off into the quiet roads. After three 16% climbs in quick succession I find my legs have gone when I reach flat roads. Time for a drink and food after only seven miles.
The hills gradually get smaller and after the village of Crayke I can see the Vale of York opening out before me - flat roads at last! With 40 miles covered I am in the city of York and am greeted by the aroma of warm chocolate as I pass the Nestle (formerly Rowntree's) chocolate factory. Pleasant in the short-term but probably not if you live with it 24-hours a day.
The hostel here is a large house, re-opened in April this year after a £2 million refurbishment. What a comfortable and relaxing place it is, sitting in the lounge looking out over the garden through a glass wall.
The route to the hostel is along the river bank - dismount? I think I will!
Monday 17 June
An interesting ride out of York this morning, through back streets and cycle paths, until one path is closed and the diversion signs are not entirely accurate.
From York to Beverley, apart from the main road there is no 'direct' alternative. It is either a loop north or a loop south. After planning my routes onto the GPS almost a month ago by this time I have no idea which option I have chosen. I looked at a map last night but still could not remember! Eventually arriving at Market Weighton it seems I have chosen the 'southern' option.
The hostel at Beverley is in the Minster Priory and although the facilities have been modernised the building retains it's original character and is an experience to stay in.
Tuesday 18 June
Leaving Beverley on country lanes I suddenly find I have routed myself along a farm track 'No Unauthorised Access' and a rethink is necessary involving a ride to the outskirts of Hull before picking up my original route at Hessle just before the Humber bridge.
I had intended to ride straight over the bridge and get something to eat in Barton-on-Humber, due to the very poor quality of the cafe at the bridge visitor centre. However, as luck would have it, the cafe has closed down to be replaced by a catering caravan, which offers much better service at much better cost.
The Humber Bridge - I'm almost home !
Over the bridge and just after Humberside airport the road is closed - more 'navigation-on-the-fly' in order to reach Caistor. If anyone tells you Lincolnshire is flat, do not believe them. From here to Louth I have to cross a range of hills that cuts diagonally across the county. Not Yorkshire/Cumbria hills, but hard work all the same.
Tonight I am making for the 'Woodys Top' hostel near Ruckland. A converted barn that only had running water installed in 1988. To-day it is a most comfortable place and I was able to spend part of the evening watching hares playing in the garden, not exactly 'boxing' but not far off.
There cannot be many road signs left like this one to indicate the youth hostel
Wednesday 19 June
Once again a hilly start to the ride on the way to Horncastle and Woodhall Spa, which proves, after 15 miles, an ideal place to stop for food. From here on the road is pan-flat and straight as a die, to the extent that when a corner comes I find it interesting. In the village of Martin I find an interesting stone above the door to the old blacksmiths cottage. As I am taking a photograph the lady owner invites me in to show me around the house!
After this another navigational problem occurs. At Cranwell the route is closed by a barrier, it turns out the area is an RAF base with signs to the effect of 'clear off or else'. The driver or a large lorry is having the same problem, but it is easier for me to cycle half a mile back along the single track road. The revised route takes me along the busy A17 Newark to Sleaford road, the very road I had been trying to avoid, but I am soon around Cranwell and back on route and my way to the village of Thurlby. The hostel here is a country house, gifted to the Youth Hostels Association in 1979 and at the centre of an area rich in historical, cultural, architectural and natural interest.
Thursday 20 June
To avoid the busy A19 road to Peterborough I put in a short deviation this morning. The roads are quiet, flat and I have a tail wind - what more can I ask? After crossing the A47 and the A1 at Wansford the terrain becomes more hilly but offers a pleasant ride through villages of mellow yellow stone buildings so popular in this region.
At one point I spot an unusual black and white shape by the roadside. It turns out to be a horse asleep. As I ride by it lifts it's head as if to complain about being disturbed. Who does it belong to?
I am now into Bedfordshire and ride through Kimbolton with it's large private school to arrive home early in the afternoon.
A few turns of the pedals over 646 miles on this tour, no really long days although a few hard ones in the hills. The longest day was 72 and a quarter miles, the shortest 18 and a half.