Ahh the lake district, the serene and peaceful place of quiet reflection in nature… reflecting on the pain in their asses (check out the Biffin Bridge status today) as they realize that lakes are formed between hills.
The duo set off this morning expecting an easy ride over flat ground since leaving the highlands. 1500 meters of climbing time in the saddle later they had paid the penalty for their hubris. Hubris indeed, as the butt butter had lain unused since a rather unfortunate experiment for us all early on in the trip. now with five coats applied each they can barely manage to sit and drink a beer and eat a steak or in Paul’s case a salad –a green leafy salad so he could watch his figure. For those of you gambling at home the over/under on his km for tomorrow is +/-85 before his body rebels and demands that he sacrifice a sheep.
But for those of you interested in the actual people cycling well they are bathing in the joy that is their much anticipated return to England — Say Cheese 🙂
(I lost Paul at the border – but picked up this chinese cyclist from Fuk Mae Bam provence)
and in case you thought that the madness had not taken hold of this ride, let me direct you to the following example of bigamy in the highlands — Mark and Alisha his darling bike were engaged to be married at 1202 local time. So raise a toast to this unfortunate coupling as Alisha has proceed to pound him rawer than fine shashimi in her excitement over the announcement. After the ceremony the best man stole off with the bridesmaid and rode her hard all the way to Burton travel lodge were he spent the night… well better not look in to closely at that room. (pictures to follow on snapchat only)
As for our editor in chief he blew out his back tire at the end of the day and spent a long time this evening in quiet reflection with the local vicar. He asked were the tarts were but we saved him before almost certain temptation.
And now with the scotch raided, the beers drunk and the blog posted it is time to once again make fun of Paul for his salad and shandy. Being the driver tonight might excuse the shandy but a fucking salad will never be forgiven. May the sheep and cows of Wales find him and show him their best features to bring him back into the fold.
Through Liverpool tomorrow– more to follow
In my defense, there was some chicken mixed in with the salad and I did have a side order of potato wedges to keep the carb count up…..ok…ok..I plead guilty your honor, as punishment I promise to eat whatever road kill I can fine en-route tomorrow. I am just pleased that today my rubbers did not let me down and I got through the day without any incidents, which was fortunate as I managed to leave my spare tubes and tool kit in the car before setting of this morning!!!
I know you should not laugh at other peoples misfortunes but after the last few days, I did nearly wet myself when big bro punctures less than 2km from the finish. Of course I could have stopped to help but it was still raining and there was a mole waiting at the counter!