From Consett to Nenthead

which means over the north Pennines over the highest peak, I think of our whole trip.
We pushed the bikes up the steep roads. We paused, catching our breath after the effort, and looked around with pleasure. Here and there the heather blooms. On a steep, downhill unpaved path, where one might even walk for safety, I slip and nearly twist my ankle, but I avoid it by dropping my bike. My brand-new panniers don't look so good anymore, and my handlebars are damaged. Luckily, Bert can fix that, and I'm not injured. I do wonder if I'm getting too old for this physical exertion. But hey, I do it, so I can still do it.

Tomorrow we're off to Penrith. There's probably another big climb along the way.