So to try and keep this brief and avoid navel-gazing about the thorny question of "why?"...
The positive bits:
- I bloody love riding my bike (particularly my "proper" bike).
- I bloody love the Lakes.
- It was largely sunny, particularly on Saturday, and I didn't see a drop of rain. Some of the bits that should have been bogs were solid (bit scary actually). This may have influenced the first point.
- With a bit of a push on Sunday afternoon, I got round in under 36 hours, which wasn't really a target, but a number that had popped into my head and seemed fairly sensible.
- Most people I crossed paths with seemed happy to be out and returned my hellos.
- I'm alive, and so is my bike.
- I got to eat lots of chips.
The not-so-positive bits:
- There was nasty biting wind which appeared when I least expected/wanted it and made life difficult and uncomfortable at times.
- Having to walk down most of Black Sail and Scarth Gap was pretty dispiriting.
- So was pushing up Honister. I can't remember the last time I pushed a bike up the road. Well, apart from Walna Scar Road out of Coniston on Saturday, but it was a funny weekend. I'm not even sure how the tarmac doesn't slide off that.
- I can just about feel my arse again now.
- I think I did myself out of an official completion doing something stupid*
- I ate way too much stuff out of disposable plastic.
*As I was coming down into Troutbeck on from High Street, I realised I would be back in the same place a couple of hours later, so I could stash my bivvy kit in a bush and avoid carrying it over Garburn. I wondered if was bending ITT rules, but reasoned that I'd carried it there, would carry it afterwards, and anyone who wouldn't do it was foolish, averse to the risk of having their stuff nicked, or decided it wasn't worth it.
It was only when I came back that I realised that if you started in Staveley you wouldn't have this opportunity, so I'd probably gained an unfair advantage. I don't think it even saved me any time, once I'd clambered into the trees, hidden it, sorted my bar harness straps out, then reversed the whole procedure. It was a stupid thing to do if I wanted an official completion and I should have thought better of it, but ah well. Would be interested to hear people's opinion on it, but I'm not sure I feel comfortable with it.
The annoying thing is, while my bivvy kit was waiting patiently under a tree, I did a lap round Staveley to do the bit of bridleway I missed off coming into the village, much to the confusion of an old couple walking.
Some pics:
Delivery from BB Towers just in time on Friday:
Dawn in Matterdale End, 5.30:
Down on Ullswater:
Sunrise near The Cockpit above Pooley Bridge:
Heading up to Boredale Hause:
Back up on High Street after the long drag (literally) up from Hartsop:
Looking back down to Hayeswater:
Above Troutbeck:
The offending stash:
Breakfast (sort of):
Balancing out my macro-nutrients in Chapel Stile:
Coniston at last:
Pre-booking my slot:
(possibly for a heart attack):
Trying to capture the steepness of Walna Scar Road:
Chasing the sun over Walna Scar:
...and losing that race:
... but still glad to see over into Dunnerdale (and have some light to negotiate the bog):
I wanted to push on further, but the wind was vicious and unpredictable - it seemed sheltered here and was a decent spot to bivvy so I called it a day about 9.30. Pretty happy with that choice - the next few sections were longer and harder than I thought and often more exposed.
And I wouldn't have got views like this in the morning. Coming down into Seathwaite:
The sun finally rose over the Old Man about 7 (three quarters of an hour after "sunrise") as I headed up Harter Fell:
Into Eskdale. This descent really perked me up:
Burnmoor, looking towards Wasdale:
Wasdale Head and the bottom of the inescapable-looking Mosedale:
The long HaB up Black Sail:
Wotsits woz right (at least about the coffee. No sausage rolls so settled for a cheese and onion pasty.):
Missioned on to the finish after that, with no stops other than to guzzle a couple of quick cans of sugar-water having drained my hydration bladder. Flew down Borrowdale, winched up Spooney Green Lane, as fast as I dared up Lonscale Crags, then blasted down through Threlkeld with the Old Coach Road staring at me since Keswick. I'd found myself an hour and 45 minutes to make 36 hours. Even with a headwind that only got worse the further up and round the shoulder I went, that was plenty and I ground it out running on Apple Tango fumes and the last few Haribo rolling round the bottom of my top tube bag, covered in patina of grease.
Symmetry innit:
good luck the weekend 
) and that 1800 foot climb out the way, rather than wake up to it first thing in the morning (though it would warm me up!) but we'll see. Thanks for tip anyway.
