A lucky day

I’d lunged two flies in the first 23 minutes. And I wasn’t even singing!  Luckily, they tickled and coughed their way back up (although I’m not entirely sure of their first aid needs on arrival.)

Speaking of which, I’ve concluded repairing a puncture is a little like CPR training.  You need the practice.  So it is with that thought that I graciously accept the fact my tyre split on the way home, particularly given it had just started to rain and I sheltered under a huge overhanging trunk of a tree to repair it.  Not only that but it was an easy split to find so there was little doubt that it wasn’t just going to pop again (new tyre’s in order though!) Those 15 minutes were the worst of the rain on a day where it was highly likely I’d get proper wet.  And I didn’t. In fact, I escaped a few times with 50 heavy spots or so just to get you worried.

I took the train up to Kirkby Stephen with a eye on the weather.  The worst of the rain was supposed to be further south so I should hopefully have a good start.  In the sunshine and humid in fact - rather lovely.  The wind was a north easterly so after taking a delightful new road (blip) that followed the railway line back to Garsdale, I tacked east to Aysgarth to then travel with the wind on my back through Coverdale.  

On the way, I found another little stretch I’d not done up from West Witton - a little steepy of a lane with a tight hairpin.  As I got there, there was a small van, wheel spinning on the inside turn, with a big lorry attempting to come round the corner at the same time.  With a bold wave and an air of confident determination, I asked them all to stop and managed to squeeze through the middle of them both without having to stop.  (We don’t choose new roads only to be thwarted at the last minute!)

Onwards and upwards!

I barely saw anyone.  Part of that might be because as I went higher, the mist revealed only the cows and calves chewing grass by the roadside - and that’s all I heard too, along with a bit of birdsong.  Quiet solitude.  My favourite.

I’d stopped early in Aysgarth on purpose to get some food while I was still dry so by the time I was in Kettlewell, I was starting to feel a little peckish.  I knew the cafe wasn’t open there though so headed on through, choosing the main road back so I could minimise the risk of another puncture.  That meant bypassing some dead cert cafes but I was hopeful that one of the two in Burnsall would be open on holiday week.  

No.
Getting hungry now.

I ploughed on to Bolton Abbey where I was delighted to see the lights on at the Cafe on the Green - favourite - and I was expecting it to be closed.  

It was!  

There was a bride and groom in the courtyard having their photos taken - didn’t think I could butt in and ask for a cheese toastie and a latte!

I was champing at the bit a touch but attempting to get my head around getting all the way home.  Thank goodness for three hundred cafes at Bolton Abbey.  Cheese toastie and a latte.  Sorted.

Homewards!