Day 10 - Stow on the Wold to Ogbourne St George - 68 miles

Day 10 already! This second week had flown by, and today is the last day of normal mileage - 67 in total (all 67 of which Helen will be attempting today, on the first of her three days with us); tomorrow is only 54 miles and the run into Bournemouth just 40, so we really are on the home straight.

We awoke to a dry morning, but the ever cheerful weather lady promised us rain as the day progressed - we'd heard the same yesterday but somehow managed to dodge all but a few minor showers, so we hoped for similar today.

We went down to a busy breakfast room at The Limes guest house, and tucked into a full English (for me), scrambled eggs (for Helen), and poached eggs and beans (for Lee). The cooked breakfast was very good, and possibly the best guest house breakfast I've had this trip, fried bread made an appearance again and, for the first time, a hash brown.

During breakfast Dave (the chef) Watts appeared at our table! A very nice surprise - he had hoped to come and see us last night in Stow as he only works in Chipping Camden (at Cotswold House Hotel), but he was unable to escape due to so many people wanting to eat in his restaurant. After a short catch up he headed off to work and we paid our bills, at which point the owners of the guest house gave us a £10 donation! Thanks 'The Limes'!

I had the first stint in the Moggy today, so once Lee and Helen were on their way I strapped my bike to the rack and hopped into the car. Key in, I pulled the starter switch (I don't think I'll ever get bored of starting the car like this) but nothing happened! The ignition lights were on, and turning the indicator switch flipped out the trafficators so I knew there was juice in the battery, I felt a bit of dread in the pit of my stomach.

Of all the places to break down on the trip, Stow was the best, I'd already decided - I would be able to get the car towed home, swap all the gear onto Helen's little Citroen and catch up with them without much delay, but as I had Lee's re-chargeable battery pack in the boot I thought I'd give it a go. I had to remove the bike from the rack, and the rack from the car, in order to gain access to the boot. I lugged the battery pack to the front with everything crossed, connected it to the battery terminals and pulled the starter switch... BRUM BRUM BRUM!!

Excellent news. We suspect the alternator has given up, so as long as we've got the battery pack with us we'll be able to limp on to Bournemouth without too much of a problem - so long as nothing else decides it's had enough of our road trip, that is.

After attempting to follow the route down country lanes using the road atlas, and almost going full circle back Stow after half an hour, I realised the only way I was going to get through today would be to get on ahead to somewhere I could find that was definitely on the route and find a layby.

I stumbled across the riders purely by chance on the way to Eynsham and its toll bridge. After a photo I headed off to cross the toll bridge (at the cost of 5 pence - it always makes me wonder how many cars cross this tiny bridge in Eynsham, and how much they pay the poor guy who collects the tolls and gives out change: I wonder if they pay him in 5p's).

Shortly after the bridge I found a layby, and half an hour or so later the riders rolled in. I'd got myself ready for the changeover, but at this point they'd already cycled 26 miles, leaving only 7 miles for Lee today (poor Helen was only just getting warmed up), so he decided to finish off his mileage and head to Shippon to change over at the Prince of Wales pub, which was on our route, and where we could meet up with Dodge, a plasterer colleague and ale-drinking buddy of mine who was working locally.

I headed off to the pub, only to get a call from Helen just as I arrived, informing me that she had a flat. As I had the spares in the boot I'd have to do an about turn and rescue my damsel in distress (Lee was cycling ahead when she got the flat). By the time I got back to her, though, she was cycling in the opposite direction with Lee on her wheel (cycling term meaning behind - turns out he'd wondered where she was and had gone back to help her pump up the tyre). I pulled into a side road alongside to ask what had happened where they both turned to talk to me, only Helen had applied brakes and when Lee looked ahead to see what was in front he was somewhat surprised to see Helen right in front of him; he slammed on the brakes, his front brake being more effective that his rear it would seem, and he went straight over the handlebars.

The tension is palpable right now isn't it!?!

He did indeed go over his handlebars, but in a such a way that he would have won a gold medal if 'the bicycle dismount' was included in the Olympics this week: he somehow managed to walk over the handlebars as the bike tipped up behind him and fell in a heap on the pavement while he stood there nonchalantly wondering how he'd come out of that without a trip to A&E.

So, after three more tyre inflations en route they limped into the car park at The Prince of Wales, where we had a pint and made bike repairs. One puncture fixed and one bent derailleur unbent (oh, and beer duly drunk), we waved goodbye to Dodge and Phil (the landlord from the Prince of Wales who gave us £20 for our cause the week before we left), and we headed off towards the M4, Lee now in the car for the rest of the day having done 36 miles (I owe him three miles tomorrow).

So far the weather had been relatively dry, bar a short shower in Witney - could it be we were going to dodge another bullet?

We headed out of Abingdon and in the direction of Wantage, birthplace of Alfred the Great, and soon were meandering (intentionally) through the nice little villages of East and West Hanney.

We then headed in the direction of the Lambourn Downs - as the name suggests, this is a hilly area, it lies on the northern edge of the M4, and surrounds Lambourn, a reasonably sized village in 'horse valley' and West Berkshire. I've no idea what passed in history to ensure that these hills were named after Lambourn rather than neighbouring (and larger) town Wantage, but there it is, one of history's many mysterious.

After a pretty flat Oxfordshire section, we hit the downs and were soon facing a 10% hill. Helen, having done over 50 miles at this point, wasn't overly pleased with what was in front of us! We made a start up, where we found Lee in a layby waiting to take a picture - what would be the last he could capture today as we were soon to be off-road.







So after a few miles climbing up a number of hills we turned a corner to find this...

Looking at the GPS we decided that as it looked like only a mile or so of byway, we'd continue along and see how it went.

Two lessons to learn here:

1. Don't completely trust Google Maps when drawing a route, allowing it to 'follow roads' (meaning you can almost select two points and it will draw you a route between the two) - it doesn't seem to care about terrain; so long as a quad bike can make the journey, it seems to be fine for Google. (I know, I should have already learnt this lesson after the Scotland episode, but in my defence, I haven't had the time to check each mile of the subsequent 500+ miles to ensure this didn't happen again).

2. Compression tights provide no protection from nettles.

We plodded on until we couldn't cycle any more - the ruts were too deep for our pedals to clear them so we had to get off and push for about half hour. We finally popped out in a farm right next to the M4, which we crossed via a bridge, and made our way towards Ogbourne St George, now only four miles away. After a couple more short climbs we were afforded a great big descent right the way into Ogbourne, where we were met by our very own Paparazzi - or at least I thought they were; once I got a little closer I realised it was my new in-laws! I knew they were coming to see us this evening, but had no idea they were going to be there to welcome us, a lovely surprise.

We headed into the pub, our accomodation for the night (The Inn with the Well), and had a drink and a catch up, both about our ride and their recent archaeological dig. Mike bought the drinks (thanks Mike) and I had a nice Sunsplash from Ramsbury Brewery, a light summery ale. After our drinks we waved goodbye to Jill and Mike and went for a shower (or bath as it turned out).

We had dinner nice and early today and retired to our rooms for some of the first Olympic action I've seen since it started.

NEXT STOP: Hindon near Shaftesbury - 56 miles, haven't checked the weather but guess they'll be saying the word rain again.