All this started with a simple question for Google.
"What's the fastest anyone has gone from Leeds to Liverpool?"
And the search engine giant spat out this.
Way back in 2010 a local Yorkshire man did the route there and back.
Cycling at what he calls a “steady pace” with five minute rests every 30 minutes and 30 minutes for lunch, he arrived in Liverpool with a total cycling time of 11 hours 15 minutes, averaging just over 11mph.
On the return trip he took fewer rests and made use of the tail wind to increase his speed.
“I only took one five-minute break every hour and had 10 minutes for lunch and completed the 127 and a quarter miles in 11 hours and 23 minutes.”
To which my jaw dropped and I couldn't believe that someone can be so insane.
Here we are 3 years later after the initial Google search.
I stood outside in drizzling rain at the first locks on Leeds - Liverpool canal. It was 5am.
I was filming my self saying that I am about to begin the journey.
At that point I was positively charged and confident that I can do it.
I set off in to the cold and wet June morning. It was maybe +8 degrees out that point. Which turned out to be the least of my problems.
The rain started to get to me way too early. Around 5 rise locks I started to notice that my phone is loosing charge way too quickly. I have bought this pouch thing that fits on the frame so I can see my average speed and time. The rain got in to the pouch and had been in contact with the charging port. The phone was now loosing charge like a timer on a bomb.
I started panicking because the GPS tracking information is what will prove if I beat the Yorkshire mans time. If the phone dies then it's all for nothing..
The phone dies in my wet cold hands just outside Skipton.
I stood there trying to charge it but the warning keeps telling me that the port is wet and you can sod off.
Time is ticking and eventually it comes back on .. and it's charging.
When I saw that my progress is also intact it felt like a warm blanket. And it was time for me to stop swearing at the electronics. The bystander sheep resumed chewing on their grass as my ego clouds dispersed.
While sorting out the pouch situation I discovered that it's more than useless. Both pockets had actual water in them and my GoPro batteries were floating in them. So all had to be rearranged and tucked away in my dry stuff.
Phone is charging.. everything is safe. I jump back on the bike and set off again.
At 40 mile mark my chain falls off. I don't use front derailleur. So there is nothing that can catch it. It never had done this before but the chain was on its way out and the rain and mud/gravel must have filed it down enough for it to start misbehaving.
I started to loose patience with it. Little bump and it's off ... I have to stop and put it back up. Hands are covered in grease. I can't scratch my nose now ..
Until I decided to use the small front cog. It's just 36 teeth. So I have to drop the chain at the back too to gain the same-ish power/speed ratio.
It's not the same but I am getting some consistency finally. Except now we have grinding noises coming from the chain .. since it's never been adjusted for those gears.
That's where I sort of lost my confidence that I can actually beat anything. I felt that the chain will just rip apart somewhere mid way.
My first long break was at ESSE Factory cafe.
I was hoping to get a coffee but I was turned away because they do only cash .. which was strange because in these times it seems the other way around. Usually cards seem to be more welcome.
I ate some chocolate bars and washed it down with water. The bottle neck was covered in sand.. I kept finding sand in my mouth for another hour or so.
But that's fine.. the nature around me after the break was getting prettier. It stopped raining too.
I was drying off.
I just kept going. Making regular breaks. But slowly loosing my necessary average speed.
Soon after I was in Burnley.
I was suddenly surrounded by depressing industrial units. I have an image of a man aging in them walls .. always dreaming of outside.
Now they seem dead .. the buildings I mean.
I am trough the city and soon after I approached a shopping centre where I went to get a coffee finally.
People seemed to be slightly startled seeing me. The mud and tired wet look resembled of a homeless man.
I can not care less about it because I need that coffee.
It was the best awful coffee ever. Way too much caramel syrup..
15 minutes later I joined the canal again and kept going.
Soon I reached the spot where me and mate stayed 3 years ago.
It gave me a bit of optimism because I knew that the 63 and a half mile spot is near.
That's where I'll have my lunch.
At least the lunch was with a company that later on left due to the lack of generosity from my part.
Spoke to sister. Told her how doomed I am.
And jumped back on.
From here mostly the nature seems pretty boring.
I am in Domino's pizza Wigan. Guy gave me massive discount on some small pizza. It wasn't too bad to be fair.
This is where I am debating the return trip. Looking at possibilities to come home from Liverpool. I know I'll make it there but doubt that the bike and me can do a trip back.
There is a strike and most trains are replacement buses or the trains from Liverpool doesn't let bikes on.
Which seems almost laughably depressing.
But the pizza is good .. sun is shining and I have a small bottle of coke. So things aren't that bad really.
I jump back on and keep pushing. Everything flattens out and gets boring. So only music really is what helps. The path got thinner and thinner at some places but luckily it was all mostly dry now so I didn't have to fight the mud.
It widens again.
The wind picks up and I know I am closer to coast now. But closer I got to Liverpool the more the wind blew me backwards.
Fighting the wind I had drank most of my water and there was 10 miles still to go.
On my way I met a couple cyclists. Asked to share some water with me to which they were very nice and did share some with me.
Which lasted me till Liverpool.
Liverpool is very interesting city. It's surrounded with a crust of rubbish and dodgy streets.
While cycling down canal I felt like I am infiltrating in the city..
And when I was in city centre I saw the volcano mouth that is spitting it all out. It was boiling with partys, singing, dancing, eating, drinking, snorting and puffing.
I found my little hotel and after few word exchanges I was in my matcbo... you know that little pocket on your jeans. That's how small the room was. It felt exactly like that.
I went to get a kebab and tub of ice-cream. I was so tired that it felt like I have come down with something.
Soon after I was in my room watching TV. I couldn't care less what's on... I couldn't fall asleep with all the tiredness. Felt like I was too tired to sleep.
2am a drunk person walked through the hallway banging on all walls as you do..
I woke at 8 am. I had decided not to go back by bike.
After looking for the trains on the apps I decided to go to station to find the train that way.
On my way I got a really nice coffee and got to see more Liverpool in the morning.
It looks fabulous and impressive with it's wide streets and big buildings.
At the station I found that I'll have more chances to get to Leeds from Manchester. So hour later I was in Manchester.
Another massive city.. Seems like it never takes the construction cranes away.
At the station I asked for some help and 3 rail station workers put their heads together and found me a way to get to Leeds to get around the lack of trains due to the strike issue. Because there was not actual way to get home otherwise with my bike in my armpit.
The men told me that I will have to cycle to Rochdale.
It's where there is this train that goes to Leeds.
I really didn't want to but there was no other way. And the good news were that from there on in an hour I would be home.
So I jumped on my bike and followed sat nav to Rochdale.
Everything was going fine 80% in the distance. I had to look at the map because I didn't hear the street name and when I put it back in my pocket.. suddenly the music and sat nav went silent...
The phone was behind me on the road tumbling.. it had fallen out of my pocket.. I immediately slammed on my brakes and dropped my bike on the side of the road.
I am running towards my phone waving my arms like I have been stranded on an deserted island.. lady by the wheel of the oncoming car is perplexed as to why is this man running towards her.. so she turns slightly to the right to avoid me and drives over my phone.
...
It was face down when I picked it up .. my inner Basil Fawlty was having a stroke so it was only me that was left to face the terror of the phone being dead.
I turned it over and thought that I must be wanting it to be ok so bad that I am seeing things.. it was working. Smashed but working.
The relief!!! Oh the joy!!!
Nothing could ruin my day now. I felt that the universe just was playing with me. And things can be much worse than not beating the time or squeeky bike.
Soon after I was on the train to Leeds..
I was home by 15:00
I brought home this score.
I was 7 minutes and 35 seconds later than the Yorkshire man Colin Dobson.
Of which I am sort of proud but mostly disappointed. I know I could have done it if only I had the bike prepped better and get my head together. You are your worst enemy sometimes.
Maybe next time...
Comments
Post a Comment