The Three Amigos Coast to Coast Challenge

2005-09-01T03:40:00.000-07:00

It started during the first two weeks in May. Gary, John and Malcolm had decided that a life spent sitting in the office consuming vast quantities of Greggs pasties, pork pies, crisps, sugary drinks and sweets was doing nothing for their health or indeed their waistlines.

So alongside a regular weekly game of squash, all three started to eat far more sensibly, and took the occasional Saturday out to do some walking or cycling. On one morning during the 1st week in June, Malcolm came across the Sustrans web site http://www.sustrans.org.uk/ and suggested to John that the coast to coast route looked good and would certainly prove a challenge. John said “OK, when?” Malcolm replied “the August bank holiday looks good” and the challenge was born.

Now two things were immediately apparent, 1st Gary was on holiday and 2nd for three fairly unfit men of a certain age (in Malcolm’s case nudging the big 5-0) both John and Malcolm realised that we’d have to get training soon.

Rather than do it just to prove we could, it was decided to raise money for our nominated charity – Comrades Of Children Overseas (COCO) www.coco.org.uk and a target to raise £1,000 in sponsorship was set. Malcolm set up a web page linked to COCO through Just Giving and in honour of our past eating habits and a memorably wet Saunders Lakeland Marathon Malcolm had done many moons ago, it was decided the page should have the following link: www.justgiving.com/pasties In a move that Machiavelli would have been proud of Malcolm sent out the link to the page to friends, colleagues and family naming Gary as the third team member (remember he’s still sunning himself in Egypt and knows nothing of the event!). By the time Gary returned home he found himself boxed in a corner – he wasn’t best pleased, in fact so displeased that a device had to be made to monitor his mood – The Rodgers Whine-O-Meter.

So having taken this somewhat rash decision we all knew that the training would have to start in earnest and as a consequence Saturday mornings became our regular cycle gatherings. We got to see some lovely parts of the Northumbrian countryside, nearly killed ourselves with over exertion and dehydration and all at one stage or another cursed our collective stupidity (I’ll leave Gary out of that as he didn’t have a choice). During training John managed to get chased by dogs, geese and found anything bigger than a puddle magically and magnetically attractive.

We were incredibly fortunate to have Tony Gilroy put us in touch with the wonderfully supportive owners and staff at Hopkirks, The Cycle Centre on Shields Road in Newcastle www.cyclecentreuk.co.uk who not only provided us with two heavily discounted mountain bikes but some wonderful advice too. Tony had also agreed to be our support driver but as sometimes happens had to pull out and in his place and very much into the breach, stepped the wonderful Bill Curbishley of Van Gough Van Hire www.vangoughrental.com (much more on Bill later).

We aimed to complete at least two 50+mile runs before the August bank holiday but somehow fate decreed that didn’t happen, in fact on a couple of occasions Malcolm thought he’d just about killed poor Gary.

And as things do, it was suddenly the week before the event and we needed to organise for the bikes to be serviced, supplies to be bought and lists to be checked.

Saturday morning arrived and Bill turned up at Gary’s house with the first of his master strokes; a long wheel base Ford Transit van, that not only had a dedicated space to leave the bikes but a proper seating area with table etc – brilliant. Once they’d loaded up it was onto Ryton to collect Malcolm and John then off to the lakes.
The weather looked a little threatening but came to naught, the road signage in Carlisle had either been stolen or the local authority don’t want people to leave(!) and spot on time Bill pulled into the harbour at Whitehaven.

The bikes were unloaded, tyre dipping photographs taken (including a very pensive looking Gary) and just about on the dot of 9am we set off for the first 55+ miles to Penrith.

The route out of Whitehaven is ‘interesting’ passing through a couple of local authority housing areas in which we seemed to be the only living souls but before long we were on the excellent traffic free trail up to Rowrah where we’d agreed to meet Bill. Two things struck us as we were plodding up the track, that it was fairly easy going (not sure if that’s to lull you into a false sense of security or just a great way to warm up) and that all the people from Whitehaven who were up were obviously walking dogs – we’ve never seen so many, not just one or two but often half a dozen or more fell hounds. It has to be said though they were all incredibly polite all had a ‘morning’ and all got out of the way (unlike folk in Sunderland – more later).

On reaching the van at the school in Rowrah, we took time to readjust what we were carrying and realised with such a reliable support driver, we could literally leave everything in the van except for essentials. Bill and the Van Gough van were also to become a beacon of hope for Gary and a blessed assistance to other Coast 2 Coast’ers.

With the wind at our back and the weather holding fine we made our way out of Rowrah across minor roads through some wonderful Lakeland scenery past Kirkland and Lamplugh before meeting up with Bill at the side of Loweswater.

A fast descent followed to Low Lorton before the incredibly difficult climb up to Whinlatter. Three things of note happened on this section. John was told by a kindly man coming down from Whinlatter that his ‘Dad’ was patiently waiting for him just up the road – the ‘dad’ being Malcolm! The second was Bill coming to the rescue of a young man whose rear gearing decided to become adrift and Bill gave them a lift up to the Visitor centre. The third was Gary’s chain became trapped but was freed by other C2C’ers (I think Gary would at that time preferred to have not had it fixed!). We also found out that we all had our own pace for the inclines, Malcolm grinding out a boring, slow but steady pace, John ‘slip-streaming’ and Gary riding some and pushing some.

On reaching Whinlatter it looked as though Gary may call it a day but he rallied round at the sight of Bill and the trusty Van Gough van. A good slug of Lucozade and/or Powerade (to which we became virtually addicted) and we were off and ready for the fun (but at times a bit hairy) descent through the forest into Thornthwaite, then the swing up into Keswick out through a very interesting boardwalk section to climb steadily up to Threlkeld.

What surprised us was how quickly we’d become accustomed to the peace and quiet, we couldn’t believe how much noise the traffic on the A66 made nor how fast it seemed to be going (and this from three confirmed petrol-heads).

We met Bill at The Salutation Inn and both Gary and John were now ‘hitting the wall’. Gary looking decidedly ‘white’ and John flagged out with a sore back on a pub bench. It later transpired that Gary was at this point very close to calling it a day and getting into the van, so it was probably a good thing that Bill left early!

We then had a solid climb to Mungrisdale before a too short descent back to the A66. Then a long climb up to Troutbeck and another meeting with Bill at Greystoke before the final push to Penrith and our overnight accommodation at the Eden Gate and Blue Swallow B+B’s, both of which were excellent (www.blueswallow.co.uk). A quick meal and a couple of pints at The Gloucester Arms then back to our respective rooms to crash out (much to John’s disappointment). We’d covered 57.5 miles and climbed far more than we’d ever done before and we knew the worst was yet to come.

A relatively restful night followed, except from some heavy moaning….we thought John had managed to smuggle in a local lady judging from the sound emanating from his pit but apparently that’s how he snores! And the fact that Steven Gilroy (Tony’s eldest son) decided to ring Gary at 4am which is bad enough but Gary has his ring tone for Steve set as a wolf howling!

Onto a very hearty breakfast, of which Gary managed to eat some but which made a re-appearance shortly afterwards. We met up with the ever reliable Bill (who had stopped at the Blue Swallow and made our plans for the morning. We knew that this was a short day for mileage but a VERY hard day for climbing. What we hadn’t appreciated was that it started within a few hundred yards of the B+B’s, which certainly woke us up, got the heart and lungs pumping and generally mixed up breakfast (hence Gary’s swift reappearance). We passed some stunning properties with views to kill for (and if anyone wants to donate about £500,000 I know how to spend it) and had one great 2 mile blast downhill. John was keeping a close eye on our maximum speed and we were to reach a blistering 42.3mph on one section, which may not sound much in a car but on pedals it’s thrilling! We met up with Bill in Langwathby and took on drink and provisions. We had an interesting road section to Renwick where we were overtaken by the Ennerdale cycle club out for a regular jaunt up Hartside – all smiling, all gliding along, all looking sickeningly comfortable too. Then down a very steep road to a little river crossing and up a bank so steep on the other side that a Honda Civic coming out of a campsite at the bottom was wheel-spinning to get up.

Our next meeting with Bill was at Renwick, where we stocked up on provisions for the onslaught of Hartside. The wind was picking up but at least it was blowing across us, each of us tackled the section in our own way, Malcolm grinding up and concentrating on the road about 100 yards ahead, or looking at the view across to the lakes and trying hard to sing stupid tunes to keep up morale. John plugging away just behind and Gary doing his by now familiar cycle some, push some. It didn’t make any difference except that we tended to arrive a few minutes spaced out but always waited until everyone was rested before pushing on.

Bill took some photographs just before we reached the A686 and they don’t do justice to the steepness. He then headed off to our second nights stop at Garrigill and to find a pub with Sky Sports so he could catch up with his beloved Middlesbrough (he never did find a pub showing the match – and they lost). The wind was blowing quite hard now and the temperature dropping as we headed onto the very welcome Hartside café. The usual assortment of cyclists, bikers and motorists were gathered and the inside was very hot and jam-packed, bizarrely we even had superman and batman waiting in the queue. Then a slurp down of large mugs of tea and packet sandwiches, before stepping out into the cold for the long anticipated drop down to Garrigill.

Although we recorded a decent speed down the A686 it wasn’t the fastest section of the trip but it was VERY welcome. Into Garrigill as the weather closed in for our second night digs at the Old Post Office (www.garrigill-guesthouse.co.uk). This was a bit of a culture shock as it was like stepping back into the late 70’s. Nothing wrong, nice and clean but pink frilly bedrooms (best described as cosy), one bathroom for 7 guests, little notices everywhere and an upstairs lounge that was straight out of a 1970’s showroom, all brown velour and rubber plants.

Wanting to see the Newcastle match we all piled into the van and headed off to Alston, sure that some pub would have the Newcastle v Man U match on Sky – WRONG in the end Bill (bless him) drove all the way to Hexham so we could watch the match (we lost that too). So a very subdued van back up to Alston for a bite to eat in the Cumberland Hotel before heading back for another early night to Garrigill. This had been a planned short day at 29 miles but with lots and lots of ascent.

A restless night sleep for Malcolm, with the wind and rain howling against the window, followed by another huge and hearty Breakfast at 8am (no poached eggs, for some reason only know to the owners they weren’t allowed) and outside ready for a 9am start to the final day.

The day started cool but was to finish in blistering heat. We knew from the map what lay in store but it was still a shock to the system climbing out of Garrigill up to Flinty Fell, then a downhill blast to Nenthead, where we met Bill who had discovered a holiday campsite that had show both matches on Sky (only 3 miles from Garigill!). A couple of horrible climbs (including Black Hill the highest point on the C2C) and a fantastic run down into Alleheads, a quick stop to stock up on fluid and then the climb out before the long drop into Rookhope.

On home territory now we were all feeling fantastic and considering the height gained, making very good time. We were delighted to find the Stanhope Common off-road access was open (privately owned, it is sometimes closed for grouse shooting). This proved to be a testing, stiff climb on very loose ground up onto the top of the Pennines; with wonderful views in all direction across purple heather clad hills. Now we knew it was virtually all downhill and we were all eager to press on.

We joined the Waskerley Way and literally sped down the cinder track averaging well over 25mph for miles. Only stopping for what was to become increasingly annoying motorcycle barriers, which were to take on epic proportions coming through Washington. We met Bill at the picnic site at Rowley and bolted down more fluid before pressing on. By now the temperature was climbing steadily and it was time to start stripping off layers. A very fast run through Consett, Anfield Plain and Stanley with the Angel of the North and the Penshaw Monument beckoning us on, we were really shifting.

Through more and more gates and barriers until we started to reach the bank holiday population of Wearside and what a bunch they are! Dog walkers in Cumbria generally had control of their dogs, were universally polite and were looking out for bikes. Dog walkers on Wearside hadn’t a clue what their dogs were doing, certainly had no control, where universally surly and completely ignored bells, the sound of screaming brakes or anything else warning them of our presence. One woman stood with her dog actually directly across the track and on getting to them (no attempt to move on their part) she said “oh he’s stupid, just run him over!” I couldn’t believe she was calling the dog stupid.

We met up with Bill for the last time before the finish, at the Washington Wildfowl and Wetlands Centre took on yet more drink (we went through gallons on Monday) before calling folk to let them know we’d be in Sunderland for 4pm – a shock to them and us!

Once passed the Shipwright pub just under the A19 we thought it would be plain sailing along the river to the end but Sunderland Council is not Newcastle and detours were needed back up the banks of the river every time a tributary was reached - a few well placed small bike/pedestrian bridges wouldn’t go amiss.

Now on the last stretch passing underneath The Stadium of Light and along the new riverside development to the Sunderland Yacht club, where we were met with the ever reliable Bill and a bottle of Champagne which he sprayed over the three of us. Photographs taken of the tyre dipping in the North Sea and a quick ride up to Chris and Wendy Lee’s for a very welcome meeting of family, beer and (huge) barbeque. Sadly Bill couldn’t stay as he was keen to get back to see his good lady wife before she started night shift at James Cook hospital. All in all 144 miles from start to finish and average speed over 10mph, a good three day run, which with more training we could do in two. We kept good humour, met some great people on the way, found in Bill a modern saint, met the challenge head on and beat it, realised we can do so much more than we think we’re capable of, raised a good sum of money for a very good cause, saw some spectacular parts of an area of the country we’re all proud to call home and binned the Rodgers Whine-O-Meter (which was never used once).

Now we’re thinking about our next challenge – any ideas?

For more information on the C2C cycle ride have at look at http://www.c2c-guide.co.uk/

The Three Amigos C2C

The Three Amigos Coast to Coast Challenge