Quite a succesful day today. We awoke in Haltwhistle at 7:45am, packed up and went to the park reception to pay my six pounds. It was empty and though I was tempted to just leave I couldn't do it. I left my money under a stone on the windowsill with a little note saying 'From the man with his dog, we stayed an extra night because of the rain'. It felt like the right thing to do.
As I pushed away to leave down the gravel driveway the owner appeared. She got her money and I didn't look like a thief or a blagger for one second.
I reconnected with the NCN72 in Haltwhistle town and followed it as best I could. It was acting erratically and quickly sent me about three miles in the wrong direction. I probably missed a sign but I never did see it even when I retraced my steps. I was warmed up and felt strong. Hudson was cooperating and we were conquering the rolling roads one crest at a time. When we came into Gilsland the NCN shafted us again and we wasted twenty five minutes but more important was the energy lost.
In this situation you become very aware of your energy and begin to use it up more efficiently. I've become quite adept at riding the gears, knocking the gears up like a trucker when gravity begins to give you a helping hand and easing off of the pedals as I switch down to make the peak of each climb. Each downhill feels like a gift and each climb a challenge. When you feel strong it's an amazing sensation, like lightning in your muscles as your heart beats faster to feed them, it's addictive.
I saw a cyclist in matching blue lycra with a blue helmet on a blue bike with blue valve caps and the kind of bike that has big letters on every component. He said "Morning" as he passed but all I could muster was "Oh, is it still? Good". I felt guilty afterwards, it seems the logical conclusion of the cyclist is to go around looking like an f1 driver. Later in the day I saw he passed me on the way back and I made sure to give a healthy hello this time and he smiled. I realised he'd probably been all the way to Carlisle and passed me on the way back, it's humbling, I'll just have to get used to this slow pace.
We really got rained on today and the pacing was weird and inconsistent. In one minute i saw a sign saying 'Carlisle (A69) - 18 miles' and then the NCN sign said 32 miles. We pitched up just North of Carlisle, the sites a ripoff and full of conspicuous camper vans emblazoned with names like 'Pageant' and 'Sterling', still, they have a laundry here. It's 7pm and I'm already in my sleeping bag with Hudson asleep next to me. I can see myself coming up with more and more creative ways to piss without moving on this trip.
