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Day 5    Tuesday 27^th April 2004

Crowcombe Youth Hostel to Bristol

I was woken at crack of dawn this morning by the birdsong just outside my window.  However I managed to get back to sleep until about 6.45.  Today was going to be a fairly long ride – I had originally planned to stop at Cheddar Youth Hostel and then have an easy ride the following day and spend some time with Cara in Bristol.  Because the ride had gone well so far and the fact that the weather was being very kind to me, I had decided when I spoke to Cara on the phone yesterday to cycle the whole way to Bristol in the one day.  This would give me a rest day at the weekend when I got back to Hinckley.  It would be about 60 miles and the ride should be fairly flat apart from the Quantock Hills and the Mendips.

I got up before 7, had a breakfast of 3 weetabix, strawberry yoghurt, a blueberry muffin and two cups of tea.  I was all packed up and ready to go at ten to eight but where was the warden.  The notice in reception said it was “Open from 7.30 to 10”.  “Please ring for assistance”.  Five minutes later a rather dishevelled warden appeared. He was wearing a T shirt and trousers and probably not much else.  I apologised for disturbing him but he didn’t seem to mind.  There was no other sign of life in the hostel when I left.

The first hurdle today was the Quantocks – but the hills weren’t too steep.  I progressed up through a lovely wooded hillside with birds singing, even a woodpecker drumming but unfortunately out of sight.  Then I made my way down the other side towards Bridgewater very narrowly missing a young rabbit which decided to dart out in front of me.  I was in Bridgewater by 10 and I made my way towards the city centre – a bit early for a tea break but I could be persuaded!  It was not to be – Bridgewater appears to be a town with a one way system where if you travel from west to east you completely miss the centre.  I couldn’t be bothered to complete the circuit and travel east to west down the main street – large towns are not a favourite of mine when I am on the bike (or come to that, they are not when I am in the car!).  I was soon out on the main A38/39 on the north east of the town which I had to use for about a mile before I could turn off into the lanes once more and start to cross the Somerset levels.

I made a brief stop in the village of Chedzoy.  A large memorial in a churchyard caught my eye which initially I thought was a war memorial.  It was a life-size statue of a man in uniform riding a horse all standing on top of a large tomb which in itself was 3 or more feet high.  It was the tomb of someone who died in the Second World War. On again, crossing the River Cary which I thought to begin with was a canal - but what was that looming beyond the village of Stawell ?  I thought it was going to be flat from the Quantocks to the Mendips but on studying the map a bit more closely I find that I had the Polden Hills to cross.  At least there was a lovely garden on the way up with lots of tulips in flower, which I stopped to take a photograph of.  I was at last on the levels, the only up and down being the crossing of the occasional river or rhyne (a Somerset word for a ditch dug to drain the area).

I haven’t had much of a problem with dogs since I started the trip.  I had been chased a couple of times in the Devon area but not by anything too threatening.  As a result I had taken the “Dog Dazer” out of my saddlebag and clipped it onto my belt between Bude and Torrington.  Because it wasn’t too secure it found its way back into the saddlebag.  I decided to put it in the side pocket where it would be reasonably accessible – but was it working after I dropped it in my attempts to catch Noel?  My next pack of threatening farm dogs came at Clewer, just outside Cheddar – do two dogs constitute a pack?  They were on me, yapping around my feet before I had a chance to undo the zip and extract the Dazer.  I decided the best policy was to make a hasty exit.  Mission accomplished, a couple of miles further on, I then came across a Collie going berserk at the passing traffic.  He appeared to be behind a fence, and as I was now on the main Cheddar road and moving fairly quickly, I decided to put my foot down and get past as quickly as possible.  He had no problem keeping up with me from the other side of the fence, but fortunately was not able to get out.  I still don’t know whether the Dazer is working.

Into Cheddar to find refreshment – other than water I hadn’t stopped today for the normal mid morning break and I was beginning to feel a bit peckish.  In the middle of the town I came across a bread shop selling delicious cakes and sandwiches and it seemed to be doing a good trade from the locals – always a good sign.  “How’s about a ham salad sandwich and a piece of flapjack?”  I watched it being made in front of my eyes, mouth already watering.  Four slices of ham are somehow fitted onto the piece of bread, then tomato, cucumber, lettuce and salad dressing.  How he keeps it all balanced I don’t know.  Then a second piece of bread over the top and the job was complete.  That’s not going to last long in the saddlebag providing I can find somewhere to sit down.  But on leaving the bread shop I spot a tea shop where I get four cups out of the pot for £1.  My best tea bargain so far.  Just across the road is a small pond with some benches alongside giving me a nice view up the gorge.  My sandwich and flapjack are eaten in no time!

With energy levels boosted I was now in a fit state to cycle up the gorge onto the top of the Mendips.  My memory tells me it is quite steep but surprisingly I was able to cycle most of the way up, only having to walk for about 200 yards.  I guess the last time I cycled here was in the 50’s and 60’s with my faithful Trent Tourist with its three gears compared to the 24 I have now!  Our dear creator must have had cyclists in mind when he created this one.  On the way up I passed about 6 ambulances parked alongside the road with crews sitting around on the verge eating their packed lunches – they must be attending an ambulance convention.  More likely they have brought people out from Bristol to visit the caves or are they taking the scenic route to the hospital?

I got to the top of the Mendips without too much effort and with Chew Valley Lake stretching out in front of me I begin to think that it won’t be long before I’m in Bristol and seeing Cara and the family.  I paused by the lake to see what birds were around – very few really, some Swans, Mallard, Coot and a pair of Great Crested Grebe.

Another hill looms on the horizon – I certainly didn’t expect anything this size.  And this is the county in which I was brought up and got to know so well when cycling as a teenager.  Admittedly I didn’t cycle into Bristol much, and certainly not by this route, in those days.  Another look at my map and I see arrows on the roads indicating a steep hill up to Dundry – the road I’m on doesn’t have a arrow but nevertheless it has to reach the top too!  So I begin the ascent.  Perhaps I was tired but it felt as though it was the worst, steepest and longest hill of the day.  I was half way up when I noticed a van that had come down the hill, doing a U turn in the road just below me.  He turned round and pulled up just in front of me.  I drew alongside him and the driver pokes his head out of the window and offers me and the bike a lift to the top.  It is a very long hill he says.  He must have seen me on the way up, done a U turn further up, come back down, and that’s where I first noticed him.  What could I do?  I had to refuse – so I thanked him profusely and said I preferred to walk.  Why I didn’t say I was cycling from Land’s End to John o’ Groats I don’t know.  I couldn’t have completed the trip knowing I’d done it all with the exception of 1 mile outside Bristol !

Having reached the top the cycling suddenly became easier as I freewheeled down the other side into the suburbs of Bristol .  On the way I passed a parked van belonging to “Mr. D.J. Patch the Plasterer”.  Would you hire him?  Then I cycled on into the centre of Bristol – a cycle friendly city if you know where the cycle tracks are and where they lead to.  I thought it would be nice to get a photo of the Clifton Suspension Bridge but this meant choosing a route through the centre of the city – very cycle unfriendly – but I survived and eventually found my way out to the north side of the city on my way to the family at Horfield.

The territory was vaguely familiar but I was not certain of the directions from the centre.  Places looked familiar but how did the roads connect up?  The route I was travelling was getting me closer to their house but I’m sure it wasn’t the most direct.  As I got nearer there was a hill which forced me to get off and walk.  A few yards in front of me was a man, also on a bike, who also decided to walk.  Suddenly there was a very loud bang – just like a gun going off – and we both looked around to find out what had happened.  There was a dust cloud around the man in front.  I have heard this noise before – it happened when blowing up my back tyre once and the tube couldn’t take the pressure.  It ruptured with an almighty explosion.  The man was still looking around for the cause of the noise and dust when I caught him up and informed him that his back tyre had punctured.  He still hadn’t twigged!

I eventually got to Keys Avenue at just after 4pm.  I had covered a distance of 57.3 miles at an average of 9.0 mph.  This brings the total mileage up to 256.7.  I sat down to a lovely cup of tea and a delicious piece of Apple cake.  In the evening I was well fed and watered and generally pampered.  I tried to make reservations at Welsh Bicknor Youth Hostel – unfortunately they were fully booked with a school party.  I also tried to chase up my train tickets which still hadn’t arrived – they are still promised to arrive.

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