Cycling the Pennine Cycleway-ish

As some readers may know I’m going on a rather ambitious solo expedition of New Zealand starting near the tail end of October. As a part of that adventure, I plan on cycling a decent portion of it and I’ve heard it’s rather hilly, so what better way of preparing myself, both physically and mentally, than by doing a section of one of the hilliest routes in England the Pennine Cycleway.

Day 1

A late start

I rather foolishly decided that instead of packing the night before that it would be better to make sure I have enough sleep and pack in the morning. Ten minutes late and a message from my partner in crime, Jaime, asking where I am, and I’m chucking food, clothes and toiletries as quickly as I can into my panier bags. I make it to the train after a rushed cycle to St Pancras station with 5 minutes to spare.

We’re on the road

Leaving Derby station we make our way out of Derby and onto the Pennine cycleway, having gotten lost about three times before even leaving the city centre this didn’t bode well for the rest of our journey. However, we make our way out at last and get on our route, with some lovely English countryside to greet us: rolling hills, green green grass and some fine tarmac.

Hartington Station

Our first proper stop along the way and we come across a lovely station turned cafe. The upstairs still had some of the original fittings including points levers, a furnace and a railway map. Safe to say we made sure not to incur the forty shillings fine as well 🙈

A slip in the plan

So far I had been travelling on relatively flat paths but the hills started to become steep and the undulating terrain was coming up quickly. I’d switch down gears and with every crank there was a slip. My reason for the trip, training on hills, was being threatened as I had failed to check my bike’s health beforehand.

Keep calm and carry on

The hills weren’t working out but we had to keep going, we had a hotel booked and we had enough flat track that my middle gears were sufficient. Morale was getting low but fortunately the stunning views of this spectacular route kept on coming.

Darkness descends

Legs tired, stomachs grumbling and the sun is setting. We’re only a few miles away from our destination but the planned route is up some steep and rocky paths. The alternative, a very busy A road with trucks and fast traffic. We take the A road knowing that we’ll make better time and that there won’t be any unknown obstacles. Car lights going fifty to sixty miles an hour past us, my gears just about managing the three percent incline, but we get a good pace and make it to our destination for day 1. The Dog and Patridge pub and hotel. Relief barely describes how we felt.

Food, entertainment and a place to rest

The Dog and Partridge was a delightful place to stay. We were welcomed with open arms and I didn’t even have to ask before they suggested we could put the bikes in a secure area. The beer was great, a classic best bitter, and I had the special for dinner, pidgeon on a bed of mashed swede and kale. All the locals were there and it was the keyboard players birthday! After an endearing singalong to “(Is this the way to) Amarillo” we finish our pints and head off to bed.

Day 2

New day. New Plan.

My bike wasn’t going to be able to handle another day, especially as the hills were going to be steeper and longer than the first day. We search for the nearest bike shop and it’s in Holmfirth. Still 15 kilometres away but it’s relatively flat.

We arrive at Albion Cycling and the staff take a look at within 5 minutes they’ve diagnosed it. My chain is stretched and it has worn away my entire chainset. They didn’t have the parts in at the time but they were able to fix my bike up first thing the next day. Luckily Jaime’s housemate is originally from Holmfirth and his family home is there, the family take us in for the night show us the local area and pubs and treat us to fantastic food and hospitality. I couldn’t be more thankful to the hosts as I truly had a lovely time after an arduous situation.

Day 3

Making up for lost time

Albion Cycling fix up my bike lickety split in the morning and we head off with hills in mind and scenery in view. It starts as it means to go on, steep and breathtaking a great test for my new chainset and we were happy to find that they were working exactly as intended.

The hills are alive with… Kettering Town FC???

We went on with our ride and were “enjoying” the hill climbs. Jaime was often in front and I would fall behind a bit, during this time I found that I needed to keep myself entertained, and then I remembered a little diddy that we had watched the night previously from James Acaster. It certainly made the hills go a bit faster. Indeed once we had reach the top of these mighty peaks we had to go down them, and that was fast. Reaching 60km/hr is certainly a thrill on my leg powered machine.

More views and a tunnel

Pretty self explanatory really.

Disaster strikes twice

We make our way up to the top of a beautiful vista and then all of a sudden, a rattle that would make any cyclist shudder. One of the spokes on Jaime’s back wheel had snapped and wrapped itself around the rear cassette. Roadside repairs weren’t quite cutting it but the folk of Yorkshire were ever so friendly, offering help for us lowly southerners. We passed on the help had some fruit and made our second set of plans to visit a cycling shop.

Hebdon Bridge, our saviour and our maker

We risked cycling on a wheel with one less spoke and made it to Hebdon Bridge, a lovely town with a brilliant cycle shop called Blazing Saddles. They got us back on our way provided sound advice on how we should continue and prepare in the future.

Now the part we had been dreading since the start of this tour, the largest ascent of the entire journey, 340m up over 7km with inclines of 15%. My legs may never forgive me.

Slow and steady, deserves a piece of cake

A lot of our ride from this point onwards went broadly as planned. We were slow at the points we expected and fast when wanted to be. It eventually led us to the five locks, a true marker of British Engineering and a sample of the serene canals on offer throughout the country.

At the top of the locks was a cafe, but it was shut… Fortunately, there was a boat cafe open just down from it with some tea and cake to spur us on for the last stretch.

It’s all downhill from here

Literally, it was mostly downhill from this point. York was calling us and we were ready to accept it’s embrace, and some dinner (tea for the northerners). Adrenaline was pumping, stimulating conversation about organisation training and structure was flowing, and the rain was upon us. It came pouring down in the darkness but it didn’t matter we were so close to sanctuary that we perservered and made our most consistent pace of the weekend. We pushed ourselves and we made it *breathes in*.

We got a burger king meal, alighted the train home and finished our tour of Yorkshire.

I’ll leave this post with a quote from Brian Close (English Cricketer):

“I would have died for Yorkshire. I suppose once or twice I nearly did.”