I’m at Southampton airport sitting on a FlyBe Dash 8, waiting to take off for Edinburgh on my first of two trips to Scotland this week. This is a )(excuse me, won’t you?) flying visit for work, in and out with no shaking about. The second trip is altogether more exciting.
In my living room back in Weardale are my front pack saddle pack, both loaded and ready to go. The Synapse is back from its visit to Inspiral Cycles in Bishop Auckland in full touring set up. And the eagle-eyed among you wil have spotted the train tickets on the mantelpiece. Adventure awaits!
On Thursday I have 14 hours’ travelling planned, 10 and a half of those northward by train to Thurso. The rest westward, 23 miles by bike to Strathy. Strathy Point is the spikey bit right in the middle of the north coast of Scotland. On Friday I’ll leave Strathy Point lighthouse, heading for St Catherine’ lighthouse on the southern tip of the isle of Wight.
“Heading forâ€, because I’m not sure I can squeeze enough days away from my desk to comfortably get all the way there, but fingers crossed…
I’m aiming for a leisurely trip roughly down the middle of our great island from, exploring the landscape, people and communities that form the backbone of Britain.
Before then I have two more packed days of work and a lot more travelling to do.
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Pleasant weather and I found myself on the bike without really thinking about it. I headed to Harperley junction and fancied giving Billy Row Bank another shot. Now I knew what was coming, i wouldn’t get to the top with energy in reserve. I could leave it on the hill. I aimed to go up 30s faster than last time, but had no idea how to use Strava’s live segments. Made it up in 5:13, 27 seconds faster than last time and a full two minutes faster than my first attempt in February.
I rested fast on the way down to Willington and on to Hunwick. Got some encouragement from a bloke with crutches as I crested one of the smaller hills, carried on down to Bishop, and returned home via the Etherleys.
Ride stats: 20.2 miles; 1386 ft climbed; 01h 17m 56s
Ride 2 – Hell Repeats II
How many times in an hour can I ride the hill in our village? Ten, it turns out. If you allow me one ‘I’ve started, so I’ll finish’. That’s two more than in March, so I must conclude I’m getting fitter.
Ride stats: 11.5 miles; 2,019 ft climbed; 01h 06m 33s
Ride 3 – Never done Crawleyside – Have now
Thirty miles to do to reach target for the week. I have a ride planned in Glasgow tomorrow, but in case something goes wrong and that doesn’t happen, I want the week in the bag.
A pleasurable ride leaves me sitting in Stanhope station nibbling on a homemade fruit scone and sipping fresh coffee – a reward my 14 leisurely miles doesn’t begin to warrant.
Some motorcyclists on vintage machine talking about their plans for the day taunt one of their group about the chances of his bike making it up Crawleyside. Crawleyside Bank: nearly 900 ft in 2.5 miles and part of the road route for the C2C. In my backyard and I’ve never been up it. Down it plenty of times, but never up. Time to earn that scone!
I set away and passed a few C2Cers as they got going. It got steep quickly and I passed gravel traps designed to catch out of control trucks. I hoped not to meet any coming the other way. Then out of the little hamlet of Crawleyside, the wind picked up. More C2Cers – all women – churning out the pedal strokes. I chatted and encouraged as I passed. Over the cattle grid that marks the start of the moors proper and It felt very exposed. Cold wind, dark clouds and spots of rain in the air. I ploughed on to reach the first summit, which gives brief respite before the final assault to the top. Even on a day like today with heavy air and low skies, the view from the top is wonderful. I turned to watch the C2Cers one-by-one reachimg the turn for Parkhead cafe, their last summit on the route – all downhill for them from now on.
And for me too. The wind made the descent tricky, but a few minutes later I was back in Stanhope making my way down the dale home.
Ride stats: 36.3 miles; 2,033 ft climbed; 02h 24m 13s
Ride 4 – Sunday ride out
In Glasgow for work on Monday, I arranged to meet up on Sunday afternoon with an old colleague who’s just got his first road bike. I negotiated a ride of 30-35 miles, knowing that 32 would take me over 100 for the week. We headed south out of Glasgow toward Newton Mearns on a series of unsegregated cycle lanes that were well thought out and poorly maintained. I got to practice my bunny hops several times. Just south of Mearns, a segregated track started tracking the A77 down towards Ayr. We followed it past the turn for Eaglesham Moor and took the turn for Galston. A quick map check at Galston brought home the reality that the ride was to be more than 30-35 miles. My guide was estimating 40. He was doing that to make me feel better.
It was beautiful weather and the A71 fabulously quite late on this Sunday afternoon. We passed Loudon Hill a local beauty spot and landmark and I realised I was running out of water. I’d brought no energy products – don’t need them for a 30 mile ride…
I was flagging.
My guide took pity on me and opted for a direct route back through some delightful country lanes and then we could see the whole of the Clyde valley set out before us. It was downhill from there – very steeply in part.
The traffic grew as we got back into Glasgow. So did the annoyance of stopping at traffic controls. All in all an enjoyable ride – even if it was 50% longer than I was expecting.
Ride stats: 48.2 miles; 2,113 ft climbed; 03h 07m 55s
Week’s total:Â 116.2 miles; 7551 ft climbed; 07h 56m 37s
I set out with no real plan in mind, except to ride some local roads I hadn’t tackled in a while. So Hamsterley to Wolsingham, I rode Shull Bank, rather than my usual Howlea Lane route. I reached Frosterley and cycled Hill End up to Bollihope Moor and surprised myself by turning left towards Teesdale taking the harder and higher route. Over the watershed into Teesdale I was enjoying the long descent and deciding where I’d go when I reached the river at Egglestone, when I spied the road over the top to Middleton. I hadn’t cycled the first two-thirds of the road before, so i took it on. There’s a 150-200ft kick up when you first turn off, after that it’s a largely quick downhill to Middleton. I stopped for coffee and perhaps the 3,000ft of climbing already achieved meant my 20 miles felt like much more.
Fortified by cyclist staples of coffee and flapjack, I was soon cruising through Mickleton, Romaldkirk, Cotherstone and Lartington to Barnard Castle. Alas those extra ten miles didn’t warrant a second cafe stop, so I ploughed on. I wanted to try Dent Gate Lane, a climb I had tried only once three years ago just weeks after I’d bought my road bike. The experience scarred me and it was a demon that needed to be slain. Passing the GlaxoSmithKline works at, just before the turn I needed to reach Dent Gate Lane, I realised that I was at the start line for the Etape Pennines and I hadn’t climbed to Folly Top from this direction for two years. I headed on, knowing I could turn to Dent Gate from Folly Top. No PBs on the charge up, showing just how much sportive adrenaline can enhance performance, but I gave it a good go.
A rest on a sun-blessed grassy verge at Folly Top did less than coffee and cake would to replenish my energy store and I descended to Dent Gate Lane feeling less than prepared. I needn’t have worried – even in that state I took more than a minute off the climbing time.
From Copley i decided to call it a day and head home. I’d climbed more in 45 miles than I did in 81 at the Etape Caledonia last week and that event was still taking its toll. Getting home added another, slow eight miles. Slowest average speed on a ride for a while, but climbing, virus and post event recovery taken into account, still a ride to be proud of.
Ride stats: 53.1 miles; 4,594 ft climbed; 04h 01m 53s
Ride 2 – much needed leg stretch
This ride was to make sure I didn’t miss the weekly target for the first time, so I dragged the bike out kidding myself it was a recovery ride. I chose a little circular route and as soon as I knew I’d make the target, I headed home.
Ride stats: 7.4 miles; 543 ft climbed; 00h 32m 13s Week’s total: 60.5 miles; 5,037 ft climbed; 04h 34m 06s
A big week with the Etape Caledonia on Sunday, the first proper test of the year. And right on cue I picked up a virus that left me feeling decisively under the weather and knocked my pre event plans.
Ride one – Riding round the storm
Bank holiday Monday evening with a sky that looks glorious and threatening in equal measure. I set off, the only aims in mind to do at least an hour and avoid getting wet. I headed north, with the aim of cutting across in front of the squall that was coming down the dale, but it was moving fast and I cut northwest to see if I could out smart it, if not out run it. I found myself on glorious cycling roads I’d never encountered before and suddenly at the foot of Billy Row bank, which I had. Is it best to know what’s coming, or remain blissfully ignorant?  The climb through Billy Row goes in three sections of ever-increasing steepness and knowing what my opponent had to throw at me made the ride easier.
The squall passed behind catching me with only a few spots of rain and from the glorious descent toward Willington, I could see its damp grumpiness tracking down the other side of the valley. I chased it to Hunwick and chickened out when I crested the hill above Toronto to see the village being given a good soaking just a mile away. I headed back over the tops agreeing that a few hundred feet more climbing was a price worth paying to stay dry and into the village the back way.
Ride stats 18.2 miles 1206 ft 01h 15m 11s
Ride two – Etape Caledonia
The cold virus had left me with a very mucky chest, a hacking cough and very low energy. I slept loads on saturday when we arrived in Perthshire and felt surprisingly good eating my porridge on the hotel balcony at 04.30am. We arrived in pitlochry and were ushered straight up to the start line. We were away.
I was riding with my sister, who took up cycling last year. The caledonia was taking place on her birthday and back in the autumn buying her entry seemed a good present. What a way to celebrate!
The Caledonia is an 81-mile route through highland Perthshire, starting and finishing in Pitlochry. The air was gorgeously cool and heavy with moisture, which helped my breathing as we tracked westward along the northern bank of Loch Tummel and Loch Rannoch. There was a great camaraderie on the roads, chatting with other riders and getting cheered on by residents and supporters helped at every turn. After the second feed station everyone’s thoughts turned to Schiehallion, the biggest climb on the route. A few minutes into the climb, we stopped to help a rider who lost her balance and took a tumble. Sorted her bike and chain, and got her going again. The main climb was a slog, but not exceptional – it looked far worse on the elevation profile.
We were piped into feed station 3 and set off knowing we’d topped out for the day.
The weather in Glen Tay was warmer and brighter, the air drier and my chest began to suffer. It had been six hours and 70 miles since my Lemsip. We took a decent break at feed station four, but shortly after I was struggling and had to stop. I told my sister to go on and she told me not to be stupid – we were doing this together.
Five miles on, the final climb was a short, sharp kicker and we knew it was coming, so we stopped again to let my chest relax again. The final run in was a glorious ride in the sunshine. The 80 miles sign told us we had just one mile to go and we raced up into town to the finish line.
A brilliant experience. Residents, volunteers, organisers and fellow riders all made us feel very welcome. I hope we’ll be back.
Snow. Snow? It’s nearly May. Yes, but does it know that? The weather didn’t look much better for the weekend, so I needed to get a few miles under my wheels. I reasoned I’d been out riding in January and it couldn’t be any worse than that. For the reader’s benefit, I have not recently moved to Britain and should know better.
I headed out for a quick 20-mile loop around Bishop. At first it was pleasant riding. As Ranolf Feinnes says, there’s no such thing as bad weather, just inappropriate clothing. I was properly wrapped up. I could see the storm approaching over the dale it seemed distant and I hoped to get back before it hit. Anyway, I was about to ride away from it.
It caught me on the bypass. By the time I reached West Auckland to turn round, it was a full snowstorm and I was freezing. My gloves are warm, but cool very quickly if the get wet and they were sodden. I turned back into the storm and had to stop in Bishop to wring out my gloves and let my hands warm. I wondered if the conditions warranted a cafe stop, but stopping on a 20 miler would be extreme even for me, the cake-chaser in chief. I got home colder than I’ve been in a long while and congratulated myself for lighting the fire before I left.
Ride stats: 21.8 miles; 1050 ft; 01h 26m 38s
Ride 2 – Tour of the North Pennines
Watershed moment
This is what cycling is about for me. Not the early start and not having to finish the ride before I was ready. But the sheer enjoyment of experiences I wouldn’t have with any other form of transport.
Maybe my decision to head high into the North Pennines was inadvisable in a week where snowstorms had featured and more were forecast. Leaving my grand fondo challenge and 5,000ft of the April climbing challenge to the last day of the month certainly was. To top that I had only ‘til 11am to ride. That’s why I was out of bed at five thirty a.m. Needs must.
Upper Teesdale
New neoprene gloves and fleece-lined neoprene overshoes from Endura and full winter kit were going to keep me warm in near freezing temperatures. Climbing up towards Folly Top in brilliant sunshine, there were large patches of ice to dodge in sheltered spots the sun had yet to reach. Just after Woodland a barn owl came floating out of the frozen mists over the field just ahead of me. It glided there, captivatingly motionless in the air, scanning the roadside verge for a hundred metres or more before peeling off, following a ditch up to a farmhouse. And that’s the point where I chalked up my thousandth mile for the year. What a reward!
Drifting up the dale
Dropping into Teesdale at Egglesham the road was in the frosty shadow of the steep-sided valley all the way to Middleton-in-Teesdale. The absence of the sun left me very cold very quickly and I was six miles further on, looking down at the first of the Low Force waterfalls before I started to feel warm again. The woods around High Force were drumming with the sound of woodpeckers tapping out their early Morse Code messages.
Alston
The road climbed through Langton Beck and Harwood, where snow poles appeared at the roadside and shortly after snowdrifts started to fill the space at the sides of the road. Snow dominated the landscape above 1,500ft. It was tough riding to the Cumbrian border and the road continued climbing to more than 1,900ft before dropping 900ft in seven miles to Alston.
I knew time was getting on, so I pushed on down the A689 towards Weardale. For the first time in the ride the wind was with me and the climbing that touch easier. I drained the last of my water on the approach to Nenthead and stopped in the wonderful community shop there. Coffee, banana & some flapjack with a cheeky energy gel, because I knew what was coming next.
Summer might be here. Or is that just wishful thinking?
Ride 1 – Folly Top in the sunshine
Bright sunshine hitting the Dales was the perfect opportunity to stop driving the desk for a couple of hours and get out riding the bike. It wasn’t all pleasure though, I had the painfully tough task of testing and reviewing Fabric’s cageless water bottles. I set off and leaving the village, caught up with a rider who was out for a midweek spin “while my wife is out shopping.†We talked about routes and problem spots in the area for six or seven miles bimbling our way up to one of the higher villages in the area where, his allotted time nearly up, we parted.
I made my way up toward the watershed with Teesdale. It’s a steady climb through the hilltop village of Woodland to Folly Top and I enjoyed every turn of the pedals. The sharp blue sky and warm breeze felt deserved after so many dank winter miles. Shorts and short sleeves. Summer mits. I’m definitely a fair weather cyclist at heart. Isn’t everyone?
At Folly Top
The roads that join on Folly Bank at Egglestone are a real intersection of highways. A rural intersection. Of countryside highways, granted. But a major intersection nonetheless. Choices are Barnard Castle and Bowes, Middleton-in-Teesdale and Alston, Brough and Kirkby Stephen, Stanhope, Bishop Auckland (the way I’d just come) and Staindrop and Darlington. I’d had in mind to have coffee at the cafe in Egglestone Hall Gardens. The cafe there is a favourite with local cyclists and one I’d never visited, but an unusual easterly wind had helped me up the bank a good deal faster than I was expecting, so I turned towards Staindrop.
It’s a long, long road without any winding turns
There’s a long descent from Folly Top to Staindrop and in the glorious sunshine it was no less enjoyable for being into a headwind. In the entire seven or eight miles, I was passed by three vehicles. One of those a tractor. I was getting used to the cageless waterbottles, like you do with clipless pedals when you first get them, I was practicing taking and remounting the bottles as I was pedaling along. Then I hit a bump and one went flying – a rookie error in putting it back on the clips – so had to stop and get it from the roadside.
Coffee and flapjack at The Laurels Cafe in Staindrop – I can heartily recommend it – gave me a quick boost before heading home around Ingleton and Bishop Auckland.
Ride stats – 38.4 miles; 1676 ft; 02h 24m 54s
Ride 2 – The Laurels again
Quick Sunday morning spin to make up my miles for the week. Out round the Bishop bypass and over to Ingleton. Down to Staindrop for coffee and cake at the Laurels. Twice in one week? Who’s counting!! Straight back along the A688 past a resplendent Raby Castle and its herds of grazing fallow deer to West Auckland and up Etherley Bank on the A68 before taking the back route home.
GPS stopped recording outside Raby, so I added the 10 miles home, but no extra climbing hence the odd figures.
Two rides this week, but one hardly counts, because I cut it short in a hailstorm of mythic proportion not even a mile out of the village. So no report for that one.
Ride 1 – No fun riding in a hailstorm. Maybe later
Ride stats: 1.3 miles; 128 ft; 00h 09m 01s
Ride 2 – Fair weather cyclist
An early start nearly faltered in the same place as yesterday’s ride, because I’d forgotten my helmet. As a baldy that’s notmally an easy thing to notice, but it was only 4° outside, so I was wearing a skull cap. So having climbed the hill I turned back home to fetch my lid.
The 10-12mph westerly made for easly riding towards Bishop and I headed straight through town and out on the bypass towards Shildon. I had no plan in my head of where to go, but I wanted to get through the first half hour with the wind, so my legs got going, so I kept going East.
The road up towards Shildon has a cycle lane right next to it, but it’s the safe routes to school type and, as is common in county durham, it’s littlered with broken glass, bits of metal and other rubbish from the road. I stayed on the main carriageway and got a couple pointed of reminders that it was there from motorists climbing the hill on the road’s  w-i-d-e carriageway.
A right turn took me up Bruseelton bank and past Brussleton Incline, the route of one of the first railways in the country, on my way to join the Roman road at Royal Oak. The road runs straight down through Piercebridge to Scotch Corner and drops nearly all the way. So quickly after I found myself in Melsonbly, munching flapjack and plotting a route to Barnard Castle.
I needed 60 miles from the ride to make sure this wasn’t the first week of the year I failed to make target – so apart from mechanical failure, I was going to keep going all day, if I had to – and wanted to have hit 25 before turning to Barney, but I was sitting on 20. I’d have to do some route wiggling, if I was going to make 60.
Into the wind I headed for Forcett and Caldwell before pickjng up NCN 165 and followed it across the old suspension bridge at Whorlton and all the way to Barnard Castle.
Espresso, flapjack and some water at No 3 cafe got me ready for the homeward trip. I needed to find 25 miles from an 18 mile trip.
I retraced my path to the top of Whorlton, then broadly followed the W2W back to Bishop. A quick loop round south church and I thought I had enough to head straight home.
Ride stats: 60.8 miles; 2,374 ft; 04h 06m 40s
Before you say it, I’m not superstitious. Even after this week!
Ride 1 – Not such a blissful afternoon
Using the long weekend to head down to my sister’s and perhaps get a few miles in with her ahead of our Etape Caledonia challenge in May. When I got there, she had hurt her back and as much as she wanted to ride, it wouldn’t have been sensible, so I took her advice on a route and headed out into the New Forest.
The Target was Blissford Hill. There’s a lot of comment online about Blissford Hill around Wiggle New Forest 100 time: killer and wall are just two of the more common and less offensive words used to describe it, so naturally I had to give it a go.
Fit for a postcard
A nice roll down through the western edge of the New Forest following the Avon valley south towards Fordingbridge. These are very English villages with thatched cottages, large greens and ponies wandering around. My sister, nephew and partner were waiting for me on route and said they’d come to watch me climb up the Blissford Hill. They headed off to wait for me.
There’s actually a ford to cross at Blissford and it was raging, so I hoped onto the footbridge and rolled across. A sign with a handy 25% notice let’s you know what you’re in for and then there it was, right ahead of me: Blissford Hill.
Now, I’ll give you the fact it’s steep – the hill rolls up into its steepest bit, then out of it again in a smooth curve. The strip of tarmac is dead straight and very narrow, no more than 2.5 metres – but if you’re used to cycling in the North Pennines, it’s not at all daunting. You can see the top for a start. And I knew it was the top, because I had an audience waiting there.
I fancied my chances at a quick skip up there and wanted to arrive looking like I had had more to give, so I got out of the saddle and clicked over to my second lowest gear and got ready to give it some. I’d like to say I skipped up there like a feather on a breeze, but we’ll never know, because my rear derailleur snapped.
it may be hilly aheadbroken bikeWalk of Shame
I had to walk the bike up the hill carrying its rear end.
Ride stats: 11.5m; 728 ft; 00h 53m 04s
Ride two – Sunday, Sunday
A nice inaugural spin for the new bikey. A few spins round the village with a fettle here and a fettle there and the bike felt right to take out on the roads.
Some hills and some flat. It took some getting used to the new pedal system and gear levers, I think it’ll take a good few more hours before I’m using them instinctively. The surprise was how easily the power transferred from the pedal to the ground. I didn’t push hard at any stage, but I was still more than a mile an hour faster than I’d expect to be on that ride.
Longer days and longer rides. This week included my longest ride of the year so far and my biggest weekly total too.
Ride one – Where ever the wind blows. Then back into it.
A free day forecast to be cloudy and dry. Driving between meetings last week, the satnav took me along a road I’d never driven before. Coming down it gave stunning views over the rolling countryside of County Durham with the city’s cathedral standing out like a beacon. I estimated it at 500 ft and wanted to cycle up it, so that’s where I headed.
I purposely headed over a few climbs to warm up – Howden le Wear to Stanley Crook, Ivesley Lane at Waterhouses, and Commercial Street in Cornsay Colliery – and down into Langley Park to face my planned foe.
Welcome to Burnhope Village
Langley Lane is a Category 4 climb, which rises 500ft in the 2.7 miles it climbs from its junction with the A691 at Langley Park to Burnhope Village above Lanchester. It was a good challenge – the climb is steep and tough at points – but not a pleasant ride. The big lorries were courteous enough, but it felt like other vehicles saw me as more of a target than an obstacle to pass safely. I was relieved t reach the The old minehead wheel that is set out at the entrance to Burnhope Village.
The Riverside
My reward for the climb was an enjoyable seven-mile roll down through Holmside, Edmondsley, and Waldridge Country Park into Chester-le-Street. Waldridge Road took me down into Chester-le-Street. A patient transport service ambulance livened up the experience by squeezing past and cutting me up to slam on the brakes in front of me and indicate to turn right – we have to expect more from all drivers, especially those who are making a living from the activity.
The North Sea at Seaham
Out of Chester-le-Street past the Riverside Cricket Stadium and Lumley Castle. I’m heading for Woodstone Village where I’ll turn right and follow Pithouse Lane back down to Durham. Only I miss the turn and happily follow a different straight road for a few miles. I’m in Rainton Meadows before I realise I’m off track and sitting in front of a sign that offers Seaham as a destination. Well, it’s a niceday, so how about a trip to the seaside? The wind carries me six miles over to Seaham.
Costa is the only cafe with somewhere to lock the bike, so 35 miles into my ride, I settle in for a coffee and a sandwich.
The ride back is harder. The tailwind out here was much stiffer than I estimated and now I’m cycling into it. The 15 miles back through East Durham to Durham City is a killer and being back on familiar territory doesn’t make the 12 miles I’ve still got left to do feel any better.
I over-cooked the ride. 50 would have been plenty for today. I inadvertently end up doing 62 and winning myself the Strava Grand Fondo  badge for March with a 100km ride.
Ride stats: 62.7 miles; 4,438 ft; 04h 56m 24s
Ride two – Who stole the hills?
Suffolk. Easter weekend visiting family and bad weather forecast for later in the day, so I took advantage of the lightest morning we’ll see for a few weeks and got out on the road early.
Out of Stowmarket I took the road that follows the Rattlesden River through the village that shares its name with the river, then Gedding and on Felsham. These were narrow country lanes cold and quiet, save for the odd Landrover or HiLux going about their gentle, early business.
Which way now?
The headwind had been stiff since leaving Stowmarket and turning south on Bury Road just before reaching Cockfield Great Green I faced it full on. Getting down to Thorpe Morieux (12 miles) was hard work. And south west through Hitcham, Bildeston, Semer and Whatfield, where I turned to have the wind partially at my back travelling west to Sproughton. The lanes were pretty, the meadows alongside them, the becks, streams and hedgerows all lovely. There were beautiful old cottages and big houses, churches, pubs and village halls, but for me the houses seemed too big. The lines of super luxury cars behind big electric gates seemed to have sucked the soul out of these places. I’m being harsh, but it was hard to see the obvious evidence of community that’s in plain sight on my rides at home.
At Sproughton (29 miles) I turned North on the B1113 and got a turbo boost from the wind. I tracked the River Gidding up past Bramford and Great Blakenham to the lovely Needham Market, which was only mildly spoiled by a guy in an Audi TT probably enjoying being a nob by driving dangerously around a cyclist.
The final four miles took me back into Stowmarket joining the A1308 and the roads getting wider and busier on the approach to town.
I’ve finished my book and I’m working with some people to get it published.
The draft blurb is below. To get your hands on a copy, sign up for updates. I’ll let you know when it comes out.
Fat Bloke on a Bike – An Unlikely Adventure
Paul is much more than your average cyclist. About five stones more. Following the old adage that a change is as good as a rest, he took a trip to the Scottish Highlands. When he chose to travel by bike, the trip was definitely a change, but it wasn’t much of a rest.
Fueled by coffee, cake and conversations, this unlikely adventure takes Paul to the top of the world and the edge of despair. It’s a journey of new experiences, stunning scenery, and the unexpected kindness of strangers.
Fat Bloke on a Bike follows Paul’s novice attempt at cycle-touring as, huffing and puffing, he hauls his seventeen stones from Weardale in the North Pennines to and through Scotland’s cities, islands and highlands to Inverness.
