Day 2

Sunday

So, we arrive at Sunday which is the first full day of cycling. After all the mechanical problems of Saturday, we had high hopes for getting some serious mileage done and for settling some of the nerves about the challenge. Things started well – Jonny dropped us off on the A55 at Conwy and we set off in pretty decent, bright weather. Progress was good: the bikes were all working, we were getting a decent pace up and were shocked to find that after an hour we had covered about 15 miles.

Unfortunately that was about the point where we ran into the first hill. Not only was the sheer effort of hauling ourselves up it pretty shocking, but we also made the mistake of stopping halfway up for a rest. The lay-by we chose was also populated by a caravan café whose owner came out to have a chat with us whilst smoking half a dozen bensons. This conversation basically centred around how steep the rest of the hill was and how likely we were to be wiped out by a lunatic juggernaut. Apparently that part of the A55 is a complete death-trap. Great. Of course, why we should have paid attention to a fat bloke smoking fags and looking like he hadn’t been on a bike in years made us think twice about his crappy advice. And anyway, what exactly he meant by us “being careful” wasn’t clear. Short of cycling halfway up the verge, we would be as vulnerable to juggernauts where being careful or not. Cheers fat bloke.

Luckily we survived the Armageddon of the A55 and made it to Holywell where we took a break and indulged in one of the first acts of public urination which have been as much a staple of this trip as the cycling and Little Chef breakfasts. The bad news is that this was the highlight of the morning session because three miles from restarting John W’s back wheel inner tube blew up on a great downhill run, sounding like a gunshot and enforcing a half hour break while Jonny arrived with the van. Given the 20cm gash in the tube, fixing it was impossible so we took the “Tour de France” option and John switched bikes and we ploughed on. The next 20 miles were pretty minging as we cycled through the industrial parks of North Wales until we reached Saughall and the inevitable Little Chef where we changed over riders and had a repulsive lunch.

The afternoon session was another 35 miles through Ellsmere Port and up to Golborne which is just north of Warrington. The going was reasonably flat and no mechanical problems meant that progress was good. The boys eventually rolled into Golborne at 5.30 and we quickly rolled out of Golborne to avoid being shot or having the van nicked. The destination for the evening was the grimmest Travelodge known to man, on a dual carriage way in Haydock. We had a quick meal in the pub over the road and then fixed John’s puncture before crashing out. The night passed uneventfully except for us being woken up by gunfire about 4am and then the noise of the police helicopter flying overhead. Nice.