It was nearly a LEJOG SLOG Day 8 but today was my best ever cycling day in my short 24 months of serious cycling since I was a kid. Not because it was easy, not raining or not hard but because it felt great. On some level.
It was an early start. Dad was out in the car park before 8.00am so no pressure but clearly the days of late starts are over. Bear in mind that my Mum has been to buy fresh milk and checked I was up at 7.15am... not that it's LEJOG boot camp but let's face it, it's about finishing now.
So we set off at 08.30am and hatched a plan for Gretna. The first 30 miles or so up to Kendal were passed in a haze of early morning itus - it looks OK, it should be OK and apart from the undulations, it was OK.
Kendal is definitely another overnight weekend when George smells the coffee. It looks interesting and secretive. It looks like you could mooch and not get bored. Or if you did, well, plenty of places to hole up against the rain. If you get me.
Lulled into a false sense of security, I should have read the clues in Shap Fell. As is, when you get the first roadside severe weather warning of the Tour, it gives you the idea that it might be a bit chilly up there. I decided to lunch at Shap, having failed to notice the contours of the next 15 miles. One idea would have been to have googled the definition of 'fell'. It clearly means Ben Nevis or Kili or something. Two hours later those 15 miles to the top of Shap were tough hard on Lady Little Legs but can I point out I didn't once get off and walk - even when my chain gave out for only the third time, the first two times being in Cornwall, 500 miles ago.
THANK GOD the Greyhound Inn was open in the drizzle/ deluge at the top. I thought my hands would drop off but warm food later (and a Pint of Medicine) spirits were restored. The very lovely lady behind the bar gave an unsolicited donation and I began to feel as real about being at the top of my game as I have in months.
There was another extraordinary rainbow but mostly it was me and the 1000 sheep salute. They get bored but all look up and nodded as I passed. If you don't believe me, check. Though take your Northern Exposure kit. The weather was seasonally mild until the wind and rain hit hard on the tops and I looked as bedraggled as I felt when checking the mirror. It was halloween but it was like one of the freaky mirror shows we used to have as kids at fairs - you just would rather not look.
Past Shap, I wanted to push past Penrith. Carlisle looked more interesting. Winding too and fro across the M6 it made me think a lot today about my adventures over the past three years in particular. It's been a funny and unpredictable ending to my storage story but I'm glad I did it. All of it. Making the most of it is all about what will happen next.
Casting an eye back to three years ago, I had no idea what was ahead. None of us know what will happen next but unless it's drama we generally deal with it, whatever it is.
I'm glad I didn't know. I wouldn't have dealt with it all had I known. But this is one of the amazing things that happens when we grow strong and live beyond our trials - we feel a bit more able to cope with an awful lot of stuff.
My Best Friend M says 'this is Sarah World - where anything may happen (and usually does)'. Put like that, riding on to Longtown and then Gretna as light fell was easy. It wasn't but I had turbo charged Treacle Tart legs to deal with the last 15 miles and that was certainly the right decision.
Crossing the border into Scotland as twilight came down, I felt like the cat that got the cream. A lot of hard miles under my belt but a huge amount of satisfaction. I guess my Bronte homelands do look spectacular and amazing from Whernside or looking back but Home is Home. Where ever Home is.
I lasted until the first turn on the left from the 'Welcome to Scotland' sign. Dad took my picture in the dark and said we could get another one in the morning. You must be joking. I know you sometimes have to go back to go forwards but right now, I need to go to forwards to go forwards.
I've made an ambitious plan for Sterling tomorrow. Better to over-reach and fail than not reach at all. We'll see but Mr Shipping Forecast agrees with the Sally Traffic summary that tomorrow is a mile munching day so my optimism knows no bounds. Although clearly, tomorrow is just another day.
XX
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