I’m not an ultra-fit cyclist, nor a beginner; somewhere in the middle. So winter cycling is normally a little infrequent, with other things taking the time away – a football match on the TV, a little light browsing of the internet, or just warmer temperatures inside than outside. What I really need is something to make me go out, and that something has come along this year. My son Richard is having a gap year. In November I joined him for some cycling in New Zealand, and he is planning a cycle ride through France in the summer. I can’t let him train for France entirely by himself, so that’s why I’m cycling more this winter than other years. Mind you, I may be a bad influence.
Take today’s ride. My suggestion is a route from our home in Cockermouth, Cumbria up to the Whinlatter Pass. Just eight miles to the top, but it’s a Lake District pass, so a climb that takes the breath away.
We don’t use the main road, but a quiet lane which winds up the face of a ridge that ends at the sharp point of a mountain wonderfully named Hope Gill Head.
The breathtaking-ness is partly because of the steepness, and partly because of the views over the Lorton Vale. You stop to open a gate (this route has two) and look over dry-stone walls, telling yourself it is a view-stop while catching your breath.
Grey-white herdwick sheep pockmark the fields in the valley below; smoke rises from white-washed farmhouses; and the green, rounded hills of the western rim of Lakeland stand proud and steep against a pale blue sky.
A sharp down and sharp up, then back to the main road into Whinlatter Visitor Centre, with its now famous mountain-bike trails, its walking trails and play areas. And most importantly, its café. Richard comments on my speeding up over the last half mile uphill, and there is an outside chance that it is the aroma of the café drifting downwind, drawing me on.
We meet Claire, my wife, who has been walking our dog with a friend of ours – and this is where my bad influence comes in – I order cappuccinos. “Large, please. Oh, and an apricot slice for Richard, and a chocolate oatmeal slice for me.”
The route back is downhill for the first three miles or so, which is probably a good thing after a cappuccino and a chocolate oatmeal slice. It’s an exhilarating descent, Richard taking the bends faster, his nerve stronger, me catching him on long straight downhills where the many years of cappuccinos and chocolate oatmeal slices (or their too regular equivalents) add to my speed. Alarmingly, he is carrying weights in the panniers of his bike in order to train for the cols of the Pyrenees and the Alpine passes he will face in the summer, and yet I still overtake him without pedalling as his feet spin nineteen to the dozen.
I admit it. I am a bad influence.
But the chocolate oatmeal slice was very nice.
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Latest addition to the cycle maps and guide books at the Bike Ride Shop:
Hadrian’s Cycleway Map from Sustrans: the usual high standard of mapping for what has become a very popular coast to coast cycle route. Doug-on-the-Tyne’s website also has up-to-date changes / diversions for anyone riding the route as the weather gets warmer.
Just arriving – Cicerone’s new Cycling in the Peak District guide book. Includes 20 day-long routes and a 5-day Tour of the Peak District.
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