Threes?

I'm fairly certain I've found the most beautiful dale in Yorkshire.  Possibly the world.

Obviously, I can't tell you where it is!

The morning didn't start well with me snapping off the inner part of the valve on my inner tube and tweaking my back when I turned over my bike to take the wheel off.  I was hoping the luck wasn't going to come in threes.

After a little negotiation yesterday on a cup of tea first thing, Rich dropped me off in Grassington with my bike.  After looking down the valley yesterday towards Wensleydale, I knew I wanted to head that way and also knew I wasn't fit enough to get there from home.  With ibuprofen in my pocket, I wasn't even sure that being dropped off was going to get me round.  Especially when I started on the hill out of Kettlewell which nearly finished me off!  My tweaked muscle was doing OK but my lungs were about to detonate and my heart ready to rupture.  

Zig.  Zag.

And I found myself over the top and on my way down, past the ruined farm house that I'd roamed to yesterday on my left.  It was seriously warm but stunning.  I followed the road downhill towards Wensley finding myself a little in disbelief when I saw a 14% uphill sign when I thought it was in the bag.  

I took the back roads to Hawes which I haven't been on since cycling with Liz on one of our weekends away about 10 years ago.  The views brought back some fine memories. 

Now with a tailwind, it was even warmer but the roads were pleasantly undulating all the way into Hawes.  I'd already taken forever, felt completely wasted by the time it was time for lunch but was thoroughly enjoying myself.  I found a lovely pub that did the most fantastic baked potato with Wensleydale cheese.  I sat inside to cool off.

Heading uphill out of Hawes, a road closed sign wasn't the best thing to find.  I concluded that I'd beg, pay or barge through.  I was in no fit state for a detour!  The food had done the trick though and, with plenty more snaking up the hill, I made it to the top.  And to the road closed sign and manned van.  

He waved me through. Phew!  

The road was being resurfaced about half way down and I met up with another cyclist I'd seen ahead of me.  We had to walk a little section where they were rollering a hot, thick new layer spanning the road but apart from that, we were good to go.  

The scenery just got better. I stopped a few times for photos and then just to stop and stare.  The clarity had improved on earlier in the day and the combination of ancient trees, a river running through a limestone beck, vibrant greens and a shockingly blue sky, just took my breath away.

This is why I cycle.

The headwind had increased at this stage and I thought I was going to be in bother on the last leg home.  So, to put my mind in a good frame, I stopped in Kettlewell for plum crumble and ice cream, a coffee and another massive glass of water.  

It didn't hit the sides.

Surprisingly, the wind seemed to have changed direction and it was more  northerly than easterly. Perfect!  

I kicked in my new superpower glutes (OK, that's still a bit of a dream but I have got them working when I think about it) and I felt fairly good.

Plodding on homewards, I concluded that the most satisfying way to finish would be on a downhill not a slog of an uphill.  Could I do the Cow & Calf and therefore finish without pedalling?

Yes I could.  
Slowly.  
Very.

And Rich had dinner served up for me as I walked in the door.  
Thus ended the day out which, apart from the hills, didn't come in threes.