I’d booked the Ijmuiden-Newcastle ferry a week earlier and hadn’t been disappointed by the price. After another summer season working more than I’d like to I was ready to hit the road again. Lacking inspiration, funds and interest for a far away or long trip I went for something closer to home and the fact I hadn’t visited my parents in over a year (shame on me) cycling in Northern England seemed like a great way to kill two magpies with one stone. I wasn’t convinced crossing the Pennines on a 2 speed Brompton would be one of my better ideas. But, what a great way to increase the adventure and challenge value of such a short and in theory simple trip.
The 35km ride (mainly on the LF1) to Ijmuiden on a beautiful dry Autumn day was a great start to the trip, and after a short cold wait I was allowed to board the ferry.
Being the cheap cycle tourist that I am I chose not to enjoy the excellent onboard buffet dinner (€25+) and instead went for a healthy supermarket salad/beer combo in my room :). Then slowly fell asleep to the rock of the boat.
I haven’t cycling much in the UK since my childhood but riding on the right side (left) of the road was easy to get used to again. What wasn’t so easy to get used to after living in The Netherlands in recent years was how bad the cycle paths are in the UK. Sadly cycling infrastructure is the result of lobbying and hard work by nice charities like Sustrans rather than a structural solution by the government like in many other European countries.
The result is cycle paths that randomly start/stop (often after a couple of hundred meters), illogical routes and when you do finally find yourself on an off road cycle path, there’s a chance you’ll smash into a bus stop or road sign if you’re not paying attention……
Shame on you North Tyneside council, would it be so hard to put the bus shelter 2m further back?
Anyway, after the first couple of Km’s of crazy and often glass covered cycle paths or almost getting squashed by trucks I finally found the official start of the Hadrians cycleway which I followed to the Tyne bridges.
Enroute it was interesting to see areas that in my childhood memories were industrial area’s and shit hole housing estates, are now marina’s and fancy bars, how things have changed along the once very smelly river Tyne.
It was interesting to arrive at the (for me) new Millennium bridge and enjoy the view of the other Tyne Bridges. This is where all my city adventures began as a small boy, now 30 years later the only thing I recognise are the bridges, everything else is gone or changed. Factories and shipyards have become apartment blocks, theatres, museums and fancy bars. Upgraded and changed forever and generally thats not a bad thing in this part of the world.
At the Swing bridge I took the left and steep climb to Gateshead, my crunching knee’s indicating 2 gears may not be quite enough for the coming week, that hill was as steep as I’d remembered it to be.
Gateshead town centre had been a large part of my youth. Home of my primary school, hobby club, evening and weekends of mischief. I was quickly disappointed to see the old ugly 1960 concrete shopping center and multi storey car park had been replaced by an ugly 21st century version.
Photo by Gorden Barnes from Flickr
Cycling down Gateshead high street was like entering a zombie apocalypse. The ash grey faces of locals living through poverty, illness and inner city depression a stark reminder of what I escaped many years ago, and the sad face of many parts of the UK today.
The inconsequent cycle paths, diversions and riding along busy pothole roads and bus lanes continued until I arrived at my parents house for a couple days of getting spoiled by mum and dad in the shadow of another recent addition to the Norths list of obscure tourist attractions. The Brompton of the North:
Ooh, of course I mean the Angel of the North by Antony Gormley
Cycling England coast to coast
At the time of booking the ferry it seemed like a great idea. I’d always wanted to cycle the coast to coast route in Northern England. After cycling c2c in the USA and almost a double c2c in Southern Africa how hard could it be?
Sadly I only had 5-6 days to cycle the 270km and had no idea what my chances where of completing that on a Brompton with baggage, and I wasn’t so keen to cycle the last leg of the busy road to Whitehaven. So I just set off with the plan to see how far I could get then just catch a bus or train back to Newcastle (the BIG advantage of a Brompton).
I picked the Hadrians wall trail up again at the Swing bridge and followed the overly signed route that had me crossing a main road several times along glass covered paths until a local cyclists showed me the preferred route out of Newcastle along the river Tyne. Once outside the city the route became a nice quiet cycle route along the river or on old railway lines. The Autumn colours in full swing.
I took a leisurely lunch in the historic town of Corbridge then followed the published cycle route again as far as Hexham. Once in Hexham I left the route and headed via B roads parallel with the North Tyne river to pick up the Reivers route near Bellingham. During this leg I got my first taste of the Pennines, you won’t be surprised to know its fairly impossible to cycle up a 17% hill with a 2 spd Brompton with trailer :).
At the unlikely village of Wark I found a nice little tea room that had great coffee (something that is finally possible to find in the UK in many places). Here I filled my belly and waterbag before pedalling for another hour or two until my wild camping spot just before Kielder.
Though I’d planned to wild camp the whole trip the first night showed how miserable this really is in November. It had rained in recent days and all evening, so everything was just wet and boggy. Its great to cycle in winter as you can hibernate 12-14 hours a night in the dark but if everything is wet and miserable its not ideal to be honest. Luckily my years of experience, the luxury of great food and fancy gear meant I stayed warm, dry and happy unlike the night I wild camped at the same spot 26 years earlier (and phoned dad the next morning to come and rescue me, which of course involved a 10km walk to the nearest phone in the pre mobile era).
With 83km in the pocket, and a taste of the Pennines in my legs I slept like the fat lazy out of practice tour cyclist I’ve become. Waking to the worm/bug/moth thing crawling on my neck long before sunrise (I’d left my inner tent at home to save weight).
The great thing about cycling in the UK is that it doesn’t matter if it is April, August or November the chance of it being rainy, miserable and cold are 90%. Meaning the best time to visit is 1st feb to 31st Jan.
Day 2 started wet and windy, and didn’t change until 90km later just outside Carlisle. But on the second day of finally being on the road again nothing could dampen my spirits. I was so full of joy to be riding again, my belly was full, my legs strong and the wind gods had chosen for the first time in years to bless me. I stopped briefly at Kielder reservoir just after dawn to reflect on a school geography project from when I was 14-15 years old. TV documentary images of families being kicked of their farms to feed industries water demands of 1970’s NE England and the layout of the valley still fresh in my mind all these years later despite it being before my time. I could visualise the construction process of the main tower from text books, and of course one of my first nights of cold wild camping only 300m behind that main tower in woods in 1988 with my little brother.
I followed the main road around Kielder rather than the Reivers or any of the mountain bike routes for obvious reasons, luckily there are few tourists or local traffic on the road in early November. The wind did its magic and I quickly passed Kielder village, briefly crossed the Scottish border then settled down for an awesome Scottish Breakfast in Newcastleton.
I missed the sign to get me onto the Reivers route after Newcastlton so just followed B roads to Carlisle (incl a rather nasty 5km on the A7….don’t do that, life is too short).
Rather damp and tired but damn happy after my 90km+ I decided just to check into a cheap B+B I know in Carlisle.
Day 3 I was already running 2 days ahead of schedule and still feeling strong, 55km of the Reivers route and 1 puncture and only a couple of nasty climbs later I was in Keswick in the Lake District.
The last couple of km’s into Keswick had been really bad with traffic, I really don’t envy British cyclists, they really are die hards. I decided against cycling the last leg to the coast, while would I want to? I was ahead of time and didn’t have a death wish, though my legs were dead. After 3 awesome days of super cycling I decided it best to take a day off in Keswick then try to cycle back towards Newcastle, I had 1 day + a reserve day to get back, a tall order but a wonderful challenge :), and if I didn’t make it I could always catch a bus.
Day 5 I left Keswick via the old railway line, now converted into a cycle path, followed by several back roads until Penrith.
Somewhere after Penrith I lost the C2C route and missed out cycling Hartside pass, not the end of the world I guess, the rest of the day was a series of small climbs through country lanes and villages towards the Yorkshire dales, finally ending at the lovely converted church now Youth Hostel in Kirkby Stephen(now an independent hostel run the way I remember hostels being run, by the lovely Denise Robinson rather than YHA). A hot shower and pot of tea fixed me up nicely after another hilly, wet and cold 90km day, followed by a great local pub dinner.
So with only a quick ride over the Pennines and 110km back to my parents house I figured day 6 should be do-able.
The 1-2 climbs over the pennines that I expected to Consett turned out to be about 6 x2-300m climbs, some 15% or more. Totally not suited to a 2 spd Brompton. Stubbornness and 2nd breakfast brought me to Consett just before dark, broken and tired I was once again on home turf. The converted trail track from Consett to Birtley had been a popular cycle route for me 20 years earlier. It was all down hill from here and 30km on character should always be possible. Three hours later I was broken but home.
It wasn’t quite coast to coast, it wasn’t quite a trip down memory lane, it wasn’t quite a big trip. But, it was and amazing little and challenging escape through a beautiful part of the world. I wish I’d had more time to explore the country I once called home!!
Great post. It’s about the journey and you captured that very well.
Thanks, it was interesting to see England as an outsider and with different ” eyes” this time round 🙂
Not sure about the rain or the steep gradients, but the landscape is lovely and I’m a fan of those hearty English meals. It’s a bit strange returning to places you haven’t been since your youth. It can bring back some “interesting” memories. Enjoyed the read, Shane. Thanks. 🙂
Well done son,
An interesting read well put together.
Funny how distant memories can sometimes be clouded by time! The majestic steel and brick “Redheugh bridge” of your childhood has been replaced by a concrete motorway bridge, sometimes I wonder at “progress”
Him
Good writeup. I enjoyed it, but I think you are being a bit mean about our English weather. We had a great summer last year and I rode to many lovely places with fantastic views. I agree about the architecture at times but go out with any CTC groups and discover the hidden England that cyclists love.
English drivers need to change their attitude about bikes and some roads need to be avoided, but the worst I have ever come across is the road hugging the Atlantic coast in Portugal. I jumped onto the train just to survive!
Hi Shane,
Great story! If you’r done riding your bike is there a (small) chance that we can see you again at Schiphol this summer? 😉
Greetz
Maybe a small guest appearance sometime 🙂
See you!!
Just found this blog, through being a new Brompton owner, really enjoying the reading and the humour, brilliant.
Thanks 🙂