Day 12 - Hindon to Boscombe - 40 miles

So we awoke today to face just a short and easy 40 miles before the finish - I can't quite believe where the last 12 days have gone, and I have mixed emotions about finishing today. I'm happy to be getting some rest this weekend and to have a bit of time away from the saddle, though my bottom and saddle are now starting to form some sort of a relationship - I've had 12-15 miles of pain-free cycling on each of the last 3 days, so I hope that after a few days away from my saddle I don't end up back at square one with this relationship.

The overriding emotion, though, is one of sadness - I'm not really sure why, it's just how I feel. Maybe the end of a long adventure always feels like this, and maybe that's why Scott disappeared into the snow one night never to be found again (a bit drastic really, he must had something to look forward to at home: I have my wife, cats, bed, electric toothbrush, spinning classes, The Brewery Tap, The Prince of Wales, the Moggy to tinker with, the bikes to service and, this Sunday, Dave (the chef) Watts is cooking Sunday lunch for us) I'm really looking forward to that first bit of relaxation, although we'll probably cycle across town to Dave and Sarah's house - don't want my bottom getting too comfortable now!

So, after a Bronze-medal-winning breakfast at The Angel Inn (we had very good quality, cooked-from-scratch dinners last night too, which I washed down with a pint each of Landlord, Doombar and Otter Ale, Helen went for a glass of wine safe in the knowledge that Stowells of Chelsea wouldn't even get across the threshold here). The full English breakfast included bacon that must have been dry cure, great tasting sausage, and two very well poached eggs. Lee also partook of the full English this morning, and Helen was really pleased to be able to have an excellent bowl of porridge with honey. We headed off to lug all of our gear down to the car for the last time during the ride - certainly the last time while in lycra, as tomorrow we'll be blending into the crowd in our 'civvies'.

Hindon is a very nice little village in the middle of nowhere, so I have no idea how people earn a living around here, but it seems very well kept and doesn't feel like it's full of second homes of city folk. Once we'd got our bearings and got onto the route in the right direction, Helen and I headed out into the countryside and its lanes for a few miles. It was a very hilly start, but the weather was nice and warm so i was happy (I would have been happier if the lanes had been wider than one vehicle and were not covered in potholes, but it was nowhere near as bad as the Scottish track near Dumfries). We saw a couple of deer bounding around the field next to us - there's something about seeing deer like this that makes you feel as if you must be miles away from anything.


So, after a few miles up and down country lanes and a very big hill (there were four cat 5 climbs today, three of which were in the first 10 miles), we turned left onto the A350 just north of Shaftesbury (of 'Gold Hill' and Hovis advert fame), unsure as to whether we were going to have to climb the famous hill on our way through town. We didn't, but we were still treated to a mile and a half of evil climbing, busy winding roads, and the hill was relentlessly steep. I have to say I've found some of the cat 5 climbs harder than the 3s and 2s. When we finally reached the top and got into Shaftesbury, we decided not to detour into town to find Gold Hill but to carry on as we were feeling the need to get this job finished now.

Soon enough we were heading out of town and we turned right into much quieter roads, which was a great relief after the busy roads we'd been dealing with so far. We had a nice descent for quite a while, which gave us time to take in the view ahead of us - we both spotted a road in distance that went straight up a big hill. It didn't mess around zig-zagging its way up to lessen the incline but just tackled the hill head on. It soon became evident that this was on our route, and that our next challenge, the third cat 5 of the morning, was coming up all too soon. Turns out we all underestimated today by some margin.

After a steady 5mph climb in granny gear we reached the top of what turned out to be a 16% hill - shorter than the one I'd tackled in Yorkshire, but I felt much stronger today, hope it's the benefit of 11 days cycling and not just fluke.

I could tell that Helen was feeling the effects of the last two days' (120 miles) cycling as she didn't get too far ahead of me on the hills (usually when we're out cycling Helen beats me to the top of the hills and I have to resort to making up ground on the flat and downhill sections), but without stopping (except for a photo near the top, which I'm sure you'll agree was worth the stop), we crossed the top hitting 800+ft - the only other time I'd hit this height since the Peak District was on the way into Stow.

All that was left for the first stint was for us to descend into Blandford Forum before finding somewhere to swap over. I handed the baton over to Lee just east of town, 9 miles from Wimborne, leaving 20 miles to the finish. My ride was now done and, feeling a little sad (but not sad enough to accept Helen's offer to drive to allow me to finish the day with Lee) I waved them off, up a hill and into the warmest sunshine I've felt since the start of the ride - could we really be getting a micro summer for our trip to the seaside?!

After an hour in the layby I headed off to find the riders, but soon hit a closed road into Bournemouth and before I knew it I was having to rely of the TomTom to get me into Bournemouth and to the Miramar hotel where we would be meeting - so that was the end of my chance to catch up with them.

After a pleasant few miles of cycling (Helen assures me it was much easier than the first 20 miles) along gently rolling roads, they wove their way into the centre of Bournemouth and  toward the sea front and the hotel, while I did the same in support car version 2 but from the opposite direction now. Time was ticking, it was half past one and Mom, Claire, Millie and Lucy were already in Boscombe and lunching at the Boscombe Bowling Club - the designated finish line.

I arrived at the Miramar in time to check in and get some of our bags into our room before Lee and Helen arrived (having cycled directly into someone's wedding photographs at the front of the hotel overlooking the sea!).

We checked in, then all three of us got back on our bikes to cycle the two miles along the sea front into Boscombe and to the finish at the bowling club, where we were greeted by our family standing at the side of the road waving flags - we'd finished!! (Well almost, we still had to cycle back to the hotel).

So we all parked ourselves on a couple of benches and drank cold drinks and ate ice creams and flapjacks while watching the home team playing the away team, whoever they were. Bowls is such a relaxed game, and when the sun's out and the grass is bright green it makes for a pleasant spot to sit for a while, so I can see why Dad used to enjoy doing exactly that at exactly the same spot as we were now, so it seemed an apt place to finish our journey.

An hour or so later our cousin Julie arrived - soon to be the last of the extended family living here in Boscombe. We chatted for a while then headed just across the road to the cliff edge where we did what we'd come all this way to do: we sprinkled the last of our dear old Dad's ashes.

So, job done! We've seen the whole thing through, even though at times I've wondered if we would - if it wasn't the hills causing doubt it was windscreen wipers, closed roads, driving rain, lack of petrol stations, to name just a few - but generally speaking, it's gone very well, with only minor hiccups or concerns and we've been able to concentrate on the cycling.We've seen some stunning scenery, eaten lots of food (some good, some bad), had a good variety of ales, slept in many beds and met many generous strangers along the way. I've got much more from this trip than I'd ever imagined I would, and not all of it has sunk in enough at the time of writing this for me to put into meaningful words. As hard as it's been, it has been the adversity at times that has made the journey so special. I can see why people do this kind of thing for a holiday (at the moment my wife can't, though, so think it'll be a while before i'm back in the saddle for anything like the last two weeks).

So it's been 810 miles, burning 51,000 calories, two punctures, one minor crash/stunt, four guest houses, eight inns and two guest riders.

It looks like we should have exceeded £3,000 in sponsorship and donations by the time we've counted and collected up all the 'offline' donations over the next couple of weeks, so it's all been well worthwhile. I'll post the final total, along with the roll of honour, in the coming weeks.

We're genuinely thrilled with the amount we've managed to raise for the CMA, and humbled by the amount of interest in our ride and the blog - I've had to spend many arduous hours of an evening typing these posts when my brain and body are desperate to sleep, so I'm pleased it's not been in vain.

Thanks for stopping by.

NEXT STOP: Home - in the car!