# Bill & Billy's World Tour Across North England



## Vantage (2 Sep 2020)

Angry volcanoes! Raging rapids! Glacier peaked mountains! Sun baked deserts!
The Way of the Roses has none of these. What it does have is an abundance of rolling hills, narrow twisty lanes and gorgeous little towns and villages. Although to be fair, I think the climb out from Settle could give the north face of Everest a run for its money.
Back in early January this year I had this stupid idea of asking my dad (Billy) if he fancied doing a tour with me. A man who only ever used his bike to ride to work and that was only when the car was off the road. But he did say to me once that he'd always dreamed of cycle touring.
So I texted him one night and asked if he fancied doing a tour with me.
"I'd be up for that." was his reply.
WTF just happened? Did my dad just agree to tour with me? OMG! And so I/we started planning.
Covid nearly scuppered those plans and most of the sites I'd already picked were closed or uncertain due to that pandemic. Other sites were hunted down and booked, and newer, better, expensiver clothes and gear were bought. Sorry @HobbesOnTour but mum turned up the trousers! I tried and failed. 
A couple weeks before we were due to leave dad informed me of a new (2nd hand) bike he'd bought. Very posh. Handmade frame. Drop bars. 30 gears. Campag throughout. Wait a sec, Campag? Yep. 52-46-38t chainset and 11-30t cassette. How the bloody hell did he expect to ride those gears on a loaded bike up the hills?
"It's OK, I can push if I need to." was his answer. 
22nd August 8.30am and dad pulls up outside my house having driven up from Penmachno in Wales. I notice his green Dawes Karakoram on the rack. 
"What happened?" 
"Well, I tried the new bike up the mtb track. It needs work." 
"Ahhhh."
Bags and bikes loaded, Pam drove us to Woodies cafe in Caton where we'd start. We decided to skip the first 6-7 miles of Morecambe and Lancaster because of the distance dad had already travelled and to make sure we weren't left cycling to the first site too late. It was already 12 noon. 
I was busy getting my last bag onto the bike when dad called over and asked me what that reminded me of. I looked round to see him holding his bike upright and staring at it. It was on the tip of my tongue. 
"The Beverly Hillbillies right?" asked dad and we both chuckled. 
His Carradice Camper Longflap was packed to bursting and strapped to that via bungee cords was his tent, sleeping mat, coat, water bottle and something else. How the hell it stayed in place was a wonder. 
" I hope that's secure!" said dad. 
I smiled. 
Our fuel for the trip was a bacon and sausage barm washed down with a coffee and after riding around around in circles waiting for my GPS to find a stray satellite we were on our merry way. 
The taunting started on the first descent. 
"Hahaaaa see ya later slow coach!" I shouted as the Wayfarers weight dragged its arse down the hill like a ton of bricks. 
Dad chuckled. Given what happened next, it may have been a sinister laugh. As we made our way up the following hill, he passed me without so much as a strained breath. That buggers been training! 
It wasn't long before I was reduced to slowly walking up the hill and as I reached the top I could see dad restrapping his gear to the rack. 
"It fell off!" 
I tried not to laugh. I really did. My lungs couldn't take it and that awesome energy food I had earlier was deposited on the grass by way of my throat. Mmm tasty! 
The rest of the day was spent on a seemingly endless ribbon of narrow lanes going up steep hills and me pushing the damn bike up them. 
We arrived at our first campsite (more like a bloody holiday resort for morons) around 4pm and were thrown to the lions without mercy. Lead to our patch by a guy on a quad bike we were stuck in between motor homes and big family tents filled with screaming kids and their covid camping families. Loud, obnoxious, messy, clueless. Not the well kept peaceful place it advertised itself as. 
The first attempt at cooking my pasta pots didn't go well. Hard and dry. The 2nd wasn't much better but I was hungry. 
Our neighbours didn't shut up till way gone 11pm. The sooner these idiots can get back to their alchopop filled Spanish hotel rooms the better. Lots of kids on bikes though which was nice to see. 
20 miles today. 1400ft climbing.


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## Vantage (2 Sep 2020)

Day 2
Up at 7am and porridge was a success. We were packed and leaving the site by 8.45 and not looking back. 
We both knew we were in for a difficult day as Settle was on the menu and so the miles that followed were taken slowly. 
Once in Settle we decided that a breakfast was a good idea before the climb out. Ye Olde Naked Man was our chosen cafe. Near £10 a breakfast should have paid for half decent cooking. Half an hour we waited for the toughest bacon I'd ever chewed, charcoaled sausages and the egg wasn't even remotely runny. The beans weren't bad though. Following that, dad disappeared into a shop for some beers for later. 
A narrow cobbled street was our taster for what was about to unfold. A short 20% climb as a warm up for the relentless 17% ascent into the moors. I lost count of how many times we had to stop for a breather and we weren't even cycling the hill. We were pushing the bikes up. Ride it? No friggin chance. Even pushing, I was zig zagging the bike across the road to keep moving. Dad waited for me at an electricity substation (I think) and was sat on his arse recovering when I got there. 
"That was a tough one!" he said. 
"If I find out who put this hill here I'm going to sue them." I answered. 
We both sat there maybe 15 minutes drinking water, getting the feeling back in our legs and talking. 
One thing my dad and I never really did as I was growing up was talk to each other. We didn't have an easy relationship. Part of the reason I'd asked him along on this tour was to do just that. To make up for lost time. 
A bit more climbing followed and eventually we reached the peak and flew past it without realising. Too busy trying to steer clear of cars. It was Sunday. Every boy racer, Sunday driver and delivery driver taking the scenic route was on that road today. It was infuriating. And that was just the noise they made. Before reaching the peak, the road dipped into a bowl and climbed back up again with a junction at the bottom. My plan was to pedal my little legs off down the hill to pick up some momentum to get back up the other side. Mr BMW driver had other plans and pulled out in front of me forcing me to brake hard. Momentum gone and a slow 3mph slog on a 95lb bike up a hill was had. The absolute f*****g bar steward! I could've dragged him out from his car and fed him to the sheep! 
The day got better though. The descents! Bloody hell they were fun. I was giggling on some as they swept around bends and just kept pointing downhill. The bike hit 38mph, coasting! With 2 cans of Guinness in each front pannier, the bike suffered badly from shimmy and I felt like I was guiding a rocket propelled combined harvester around the Big Dipper in Blackpool. Nimble it wasn't. 
We rolled into Appletreewick and stopped at a pub for a pint. A £5 pint! When did beer get so expensive?! 
We sat outside on a bench and chatted some more about all sorts before getting back on the bikes. 
We were a minute or 2 into climbing another hill when I noticed we'd missed a turn off. I'd only had one flippin pint! Luckily for us we were only a half mile or so from our camp spot for the night. A quiet farm. Very quiet in fact. There was a caravan and 2 other family tents at the far end of the field. We opted to pitch away from them next to a dry stone wall. 
Dinner could have gone better. My tent swallowed up half of my coffee to start with. I was boiling a second pot of water for my pasta while showing dad my Aldi camping chair (he cracked up laughing when I said I'd brought a chair) when he said he could smell burning. I looked around to see that my door had blown from where I'd hooked it open and had brushed the stove. My door now had a bloody hole in it. Dad, true to form, enjoyed my misfortune and set off laughing again. I patched it and had crap pasta again. It wasn't as bad as the previous day but still, it wouldn't have won any awards. Guinness was drunk from a pot and then an early night. 
We didn't hear a sound all night. Bliss! 
27 miles today. 2391ft climbing.


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## HobbesOnTour (2 Sep 2020)

You have a gift, @Vantage ! 

I've been looking forward to this since you first mentioned it what seems like decades ago now and you have me making big, loud guffaws and my toupee is falling all over the place! 
I like to think in terms of "smiles per mile", but your laughs per mile are untouchable! 

Bravo, sir!

You need to get out on the bike more often - we all need more writing like that.


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## Vantage (2 Sep 2020)

Awe thanks HobbesOnTour  
My writing isn't up to your high standards but I'll take the compliment 
I'll get the rest of it written up soon as I can.


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## netman (2 Sep 2020)

Brilliant - look forward to the next instalments... and really hope you're starting to feel a bit better now.


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## gavroche (2 Sep 2020)

I really enjoy your writing and looking forward to part three. You make me laugh all the way. Bravo.


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## IaninSheffield (3 Sep 2020)

Cracking account sir!
Ah the joys of High Hill out of Settle , especially after a full English . It ought to be one of 'The Rulez' of the WoTR.
You've done well squeezing so many touring/camping mishaps into so few days; I'm impressed. Usually takes us mere mortals many a tour .
Looking forward to the next chapters.


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## raleighnut (3 Sep 2020)

Sounds like you had fun.


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## tom73 (3 Sep 2020)




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## CanucksTraveller (3 Sep 2020)

Excellent account @Vantage , well done! I'm looking forward to the rest.


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## Blue Hills (3 Sep 2020)

Vantage said:


> View attachment 545179
> 
> 
> View attachment 545180


that campsite looks more like it vantage.
Just a field and a basic clean showerblock?
My sort of campsite.
which one/how much?


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## raleighnut (3 Sep 2020)

Blue Hills said:


> that campsite looks more like it vantage.
> Just a field and a basic clean showerblock?
> My sort of campsite.
> which one/how much?


Showerblock 

Best campsites have a Tap and a Toilet (oh and a pub within staggering distance)


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## Blue Hills (3 Sep 2020)

raleighnut said:


> Showerblock
> 
> Best campsites have a Tap and a Toilet (oh and a pub within staggering distance)


only needs to be a small showerblock - or just a single shower as long as it's a small site - I'm not demanding.
One of the nicest farm campsites i used had just a small thing like a vertical wooden chicken shed.
views of the south downs to die for - sadly it is no more.
To be honest if there are no shower facilities I think I may as well just freecamp, which I have done in some very odd places.


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## Blue Hills (3 Sep 2020)

Glad you had a great trip vantage.

Great write-up - look forward to reading more.


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## Vantage (3 Sep 2020)

Blue Hills said:


> that campsite looks more like it vantage.
> Just a field and a basic clean showerblock?
> My sort of campsite.
> which one/how much?


Howarths Farm, £7 each a night. Or as the lady quoted, both of us for £15. 
The toilet/shower block was further down on another field for statics. No shower unfortunately. Lots of sites have their showers closed due to covid fears.


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## CanucksTraveller (3 Sep 2020)

Vantage said:


> Howarths Farm, £7 each a night. Or as the lady quoted, both of us for £15.


Yorkshire maths. 😄



Vantage said:


> No shower unfortunately. Lots of sites have their showers closed due to covid fears.



I suspect, sadly, that's a "too lazy or busy to follow a thorough cleaning regime" issue rather than Covid itself. I guess when you really have to think about the issue it's just easier to put up a "closed" sign. If it's an active farm they're probably too busy to be fair. 
I was on a coastal campsite in NE Scotland last week (mostly around 40 statics and 25 or so motorhomes) and even though there was little demand (possibly only about 8 tents were there), that had two good, large shower blocks open and cleaned regularly. 

It's a real shame as a hot shower is such a mood restorer in this weather, it's far from being a luxury. 

Onwards and upwards!


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## Blue Hills (3 Sep 2020)

Vantage said:


> Howarths Farm, £7 each a night. Or as the lady quoted, both of us for £15.
> The toilet/shower block was further down on another field for statics. No shower unfortunately. Lots of sites have their showers closed due to covid fears.


thanks for info - very reasonable price if it is per person, ie just £7 for one bod on a bike with a tent.
Pity about the shower - can't really see how they are more of a risk than a toilet.
I see some freecamping coming on until this hell has passed.


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## Vantage (3 Sep 2020)

Day 3.
A common theme was appeared to be developing on this trip. Spilt coffee. Again, in the tent. The chair was still standing up so I made a second mug and cradled it on the seat while I packed stuff away. Again, as if by some force of an anti coffee god, my brew was spread across my chair. It was only a cheap nescafe sachet thing, but such small luxuries are important on a trip like this. Ah well. The porridge was OK at least.
We stopped at the first gate to fill the bottles and made our way to the farms exit. Up a steep climb. Dad steered into a rut and barely kept himself from plummeting sideways back down the hill. 
Onwards and upwards as they say. And that's what we did. Slowly. The hills weren't as vicious today but they still went up and eventually they got the better of me. First my glucose levels crashed and then I regurgitated my porridge. Dad saw me struggling and suggested a stop for a bite to eat at Stump Cross Caverns. Toasted teacakes and a big coffee whilst sat outside in the morning sun talking about our doggies. Perfect.
Back on the bikes again and the road had levelled out a bit but it was still slow going. Dad got talking to a local cyclist who pointed out that we would soon be going downhill. Good news. Well he wasn't lying. A few miles later the bike hit 36mph. Well mine did. I don't think dad hit 25 to be honest. Hell, you only live once.
We'd discussed the decent into Pateley Bridge. Both agreed to give that particular delight a miss and I took us down Peat Lane instead as advised in other reports I'd read. Those same reports also warned to be careful going though the trees as it'd be slippy. Hmm.
Dad and I braked the bikes downhill for a bit as we chatted and then the lane opened up into a long straight run. Well, you have to really don't you? On the drops and off again I went. Bliss. Huuuuuge smile as I approached a bend and took it leaning hard. Straightening up again I looked forward to another corner to scream through. Here it comes! Cover the brakes and leeeeeaaaan and... "WTF IS THAT DOING THERE???" 
I almost locked the brakes as a road closed sign appeared right on the bend and about 20 feet later were trucks blocking the road. Flippin' eck Vera! That were close! The front wheel stopped about 4 inches from the sign. We were waved through by the workmen and bimbled into the woods. The lane soon turned loose and very steep. I almost had my arse hanging off the back of the saddle in an effort to keep the back wheel on the ground. Dad was just as careful asking if I was sure this was the right way. Course it was. 
Pateley Bridge is simply stunning. If I ever win the lottery, I'm moving there. People are nice. The views are nice. Even the traffic seemed to be taking its time rolling through.
We didn't stop for anything and ended up walking the bikes out of town for a bit. Then it was a nice downhill straaaaiiiiiiiight past Wilsill where we should have taken the left fork and into Summerbridge. I wasn't watching the lavender line on the etrex! A fellow cyclist directed us up a lane just before a junction. How the bloody hell this lane has escaped any mention in any WOTR report I've ever read is beyond me. It's a damn cliff face it's so steep! Hartwith Bank. It amazes me that the road engineers managed to get the tarmac to stick where they laid it. Cars up and down every few minutes and we had to stop and restart more times than I can remember, either through exhaustion or fear of getting squished. We reached the top after what seemed like hours of climbing and made progress through Brimham Rocks. The clamp bolt on my front mech let go of the cable and for a few miles I was coasting along stuck in my granny gear. I'd fitted new downtube shifters a couple days before leaving for the tour and neglected to tighten the clamp properly. Brilliant planning there.  That was the second of the days mechanicals. The first being that my rear panniers had several times the day before attempted to escape the rack. I heard a knocking noise and discovered them both swinging from the rail by one hook each! That same issue also plagued me today. I later realized that I had spread the hooks too far apart and one was failing to close properly due to the down stay fouling it.
Dad was pretty much leading the ride that day and a few times had stopped to make sure I had the same route. One such stop had us both laughing our heads off. He'd told me a day or so earlier that he hadn't fallen off a bike since 1968. Oh dear. At a right turn heading into Fountains Abbey he'd pulled over to the side of the road to question which way to go. As he put his left foot out to balance, his leg disappeared into a ditch followed by the rest of him. I was some way back watching the calamity unfold and by the time I arrived on scene he'd pulled himself out and had a big stupid grin on his face. Classic! 
Sadly, I didn't get to witness Fountains Abbey as time was against us but it was a pleasant ride through the grounds. Out the other end dad mentioned my right pannier hanging off again and as I was fixing it back on he noticed his water bottle had vanished. When the hell did we lose that?
Ripon wasn't too far away so he'd manage till then. As luck would have it, we rolled into Ripon and found a bike shop on the route I'd planned. Dad was sure we were going the wrong way and whilst getting a new bottle, also took advice from the shop owner that the official WOTR route deliberately took cyclists into the town centre and we were better off following a different route that he'd described. Well, what could possibly go wrong? Dad took off like a man possessed and completely missed the first turn off. Traffic and tiredness prevented me catching him till we were going across 2 busy roundabouts on which dad got beeped at. At this point I was swearing at the world and when he finally pulled over next to me I think he could tell I wasn't a happy bunny. I had the etrex plan us a way back onto the route I'd saved and took the lead, all the time reassuring dad that I knew where I was going. I didn't have a clue but I was trusting the magic pink line to save us.
The next campsite was another farm. I'd booked it, spoken to the owner and confirmed everything.
"This left dad!"
"You sure? There's no sign!"
"Yep, that's the one. Moor End Farm."
The sign was there. Moor End Farm. But no camping signs. Hmm. We carried on till we reached the gate. The owners came out asking if they could help.
"Hiya, is this the same Moor End Farm that has a campsite at the back?"
"No I'm afraid not."
   Oh crap. It was near 5pm. I turned to look at dad. I don't remember his expression but it couldn't have been nice. By the time I apologised for disturbing the owners and turned the bike around dad was gone and up the track like a rocket. I chased him as best I could for a few miles wondering where he was going. It's not like either of us had a back up plan and we sure couldn't keep riding in the vain hope of another site magically springing up. I caught up when he stopped after burning off his frustration (I assume) and we discussed what to do about our situation, looking at Google maps etc. As luck would have it, a couple on bikes were flagged by dad and we were given directions to go back a couple miles into Bishop Monkton to a site there. I just about made it back into the village and dad had to go find the site. I had nothing left and plonked myself on the grass waiting for him to return with good news hopefully. He did and then went back to book us in. I walked there having just puked up again and dealing with low glucose levels.
Church Farm campsite had no showers open and no toilets either. We were the only ones there with tents. We did get a nice flat field under a big tree to ourselves and at least the sun was shining. The atmosphere between us was a little tense for a while, dad I think not happy with my campsite planning skills and I not happy with him shooting off like a cannonball.
After setting up camp we had both calmed and we sat drinking a Guinness and talking about stuff for a while. Me in my Aldi chair and dad in a chair he'd borrowed from the site owner. Beans on toast for dinner today. And coffee. Some of which spilt in the tent. We crashed out around 9pm. It'd been a long day.
34 miles today. 2510 ft climbing.


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## HobbesOnTour (3 Sep 2020)

It just gets better and better!


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## Vantage (4 Sep 2020)

Day 4.
They say a good night's sleep is essential for a person's physical and mental wellbeing. I'm not sure how much sleep we got but it wasn't much. A couple miles away was an RAF airbase. Those helicopters sure are loud when they're landing. And then there was the nearby farms. Tractors running well past midnight. Around 3am we were deafened by what sounded like fireworks. It would soon be morning.
Should I mention my coffee?  I also had porridge. Again. Variety is the spice of life.
It was damp. And windy. We were on the road by 8.20am and headed for York. As the miles piled up, so did the rain and wind. At one point I was almost blown off course and straight into a tree.
Not much happened today really. It was cold, wet and dull. Highlights were going through a park where the cows and bulls roamed free without fences and didn't seem fazed by humans at all.
The last few miles into York were along shared footpath/cycle lanes which slowed our progress quite significantly. Dad again shot off up the river and completely missing our turnoff. I was tired and wet and felt like pushing him into the bloody river when I finally caught him and explained we needed to go back. Another wrong turn followed shortly after although I can't remember who's cock up that was. We finally sploshed into the city centre (our feet had mini swimming pools attached to them) and decided to get a bite. Fish'n'chips was needed to warm us up. And a coffee. We stood by a tree talking, munching and slurping and I went to see the narrowest street in York on dad's recommendation. No room to swing half a cat I tell you.
The next farm I'd booked was actually where it was supposed to be and again, was quiet and lacking in customers. These are the kind of sites dad and I love. No frills, tidy, quiet. This one even had a working shower we could use and use it we did!
We had the constant drone of the nearby motorway but that aside, I'd stay there again. Especially for the company. Two horses in the field next to us frequently came over to say hi and sniff our bikes. No Guinness tonight. I was too tired and not long following a coffee dad and I both crashed out. Easily before 9pm.


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## tom73 (4 Sep 2020)

looking forward to the next write up.


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## Milkfloat (4 Sep 2020)

tom73 said:


> looking forward to the next write up.


I am looking to find out if they both made it back alive


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## HobbesOnTour (4 Sep 2020)

Milkfloat said:


> I am looking to find out if they both made it back alive


We know one of them did!


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## tom73 (4 Sep 2020)

HobbesOnTour said:


> We know one of them did!


One thing for sure not all the coffee made it


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## HobbesOnTour (4 Sep 2020)

tom73 said:


> One thing for sure not all the coffee made it


Lack of caffeine is a reasonable defence for murder in my world


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## Blue Hills (4 Sep 2020)

HobbesOnTour said:


> Lack of caffeine is a reasonable defence for murder in my world


+3


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## BoldonLad (4 Sep 2020)

Really enjoying reading this!


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## Vantage (5 Sep 2020)

Day 5.

Heading towards Driffield, dad nipped into a shop for milk and some Rennie tablets for my heartburn and came out with 2 pints of milk and half a dozen cans of Guinness. Guess who ended up lugging those to the site? Shoved into the front panniers the bike handled like a drunk pig. Shimmy all the time and every time I took a hand off the bar to change gear I'd veer off course and wobble all over. This bike doesn't like front loads. 
Having put on some nice warm and dry clothes after the soaking yesterday I was less than impressed when a few miles into our ride it started drizzling. 
The lanes today were pretty quiet and nice and flat ish so we made good progress and arrived at the Driffield site around 2pm. The owner was a pleasant fellow and very chatty. I thought I'd seen a cafe listed on the site Web page when I booked but on asking about it, he knew nothing of it. There went that idea. He mentioned that there were several restaurants and cafes in the town but that was a good 3 or 4 miles ride and neither of us was in the mood for any more riding. Taxi! We'd set the tents up, lock the bikes to a fence and get a taxi into town, get a decent meal and then taxi back again. Problem solved  Halfway through pitching the tents, Tony (the owner) wandered up the field.
"On the house if you want them, are these frozen microwave fish pies." 
Dads face lit up. Mine didn't. I'd been looking forward to a gravy drowned roast.  TONY!!!
"Are you sure you don't want one of these? They might be quite nice." 
"No thanks dad, I'll do beans on toast." 
Where'd I'd put that damn Guinness. 
Dad had already had a pint (or was it 2?hmm) and was commenting on how smooth his tent poles were. He'd never seen poles so smooth. They were very smooth. 
Gawd. 

Day 6.

We were on the road by 8.30am and headed for Bridlington. 
I was in no hurry today and just bimbled along the roads, just as touring should be. Dad was fitter and stronger than I and so his bimbling along pace was faster than mine which meant every time he took the lead I was having to push a bit harder than was comfortable to keep up. Not today! 
We cruised through Driffield without a care in the world and people were friendly as ever. Between that and Nafferton we'd jumped onto a cycle path next to the main road but after a while I got back onto the road again. Dad looked at me. 
"Too many thorns for my liking!" I called over. 
Dad shook his head and smiled. 
We made it into Nafferton and I spotted a church and stopped to take a pic of my bike next to it. Something I'd been doing throughout the tour. Having done that we set off again. Me in front. 
"Wait wait wait! Flat tyre!" 
The puncture fairy had harpooned dad's bike. The first flat of the tour. Probably karma for denying me a gravy soaked roast! It was a thorn. A damn big one too. Wonder where he'd picked that up from.  Dad had to use my Swiss army knife to pry the thing out and even with that it took some doing. I searched the tube for the hole. I failed. For such a small village there was a surprising amount of traffic and the noise prevented me hearing the air leaking. The nerves in my fingers are a bit knackered so I couldn't feel for air leaks either. Spare tube time. I tried hard not to laugh as dad wrestled putting the tyre back on. I'm guessing it's been many a year since he last did that. 3 levers and a bit of swearing at it was required.
The remaining miles into Bridlington were spent getting in and out of waterproofs due to sporadic rain. No chance of rolling into a seaside town in the sunshine then. 
At the risk of destroying my butch manly reputation here in cyclechat  I felt a bit emotional when we rolled up to the WOTR sign. We'd done it. 168 miles across the North of England on bicycles. We hadn't strangled each other. If fact we'd got along quite well and had a few laughs along the way. We'd even discussed doing another tour next year! Wales or Scotland, although Pam has burned it into stone that she's not driving us to Scotland. Something to figure out later.
Dad and I shook hands and congratulated each other and then went in search of Pam. We all sat on a bench overlooking the sea and stuffed fish'n'chips down our throats and then loaded up for the drive home. 

Thanks for reading and the likes 😊


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## HobbesOnTour (5 Sep 2020)

I'm already looking forward to next year's adventure! 

Not trying to blow smoke up your backside, but there's a a gritty reality to your accounts that bring out the true reality of a bike tour - there's adversity, there's weather, there's missing campgrounds, spills, punctures, overpriced pints, hopes raised to be dashed, well cooked food and wantaway coffee. And Guinness out of a feckin' pot! 
But there's always an underlying strength and an infectious humour.

I've read a few touring accounts but no-one can capture the events nor the moods quite like you do. 

In one word.... inspirational.

Well done to you and your minor guest star

Thank you for sharing.


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## CanucksTraveller (5 Sep 2020)

And a thank you from me, I've really enjoyed following this tour. Well done guys!


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## raleighnut (5 Sep 2020)




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## Vantage (5 Sep 2020)

Thankyou gentlemen


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## tom73 (5 Sep 2020)

Look forward to your next adventure
Given your mishaps next time maybe it's a good idea to take one of these 





Oh and what we all really want to know is how's the chair ?


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## Vantage (5 Sep 2020)

The chair survived! 
It nearly didn't though. At the Driffield site the front legs started sinking into the ground as I balanced in it in a semi drunken state. Damn near fell out of the thing


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## Oldhippy (5 Sep 2020)

Likewise, witty and well written I thought. My favourite kind of reading, like minded people exploring. I shall write my trips down methinks. I have always taken notebook and necessary writing implements but never think anyone would read. You've changed my mind.


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## Vantage (5 Sep 2020)

I never think anyone could possibly think my stories are even remotely interesting. 
The nice folk on this forum frequently prove me wrong  
We certainly need more stories of members rides


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## Oldhippy (5 Sep 2020)

Bumper Cycle Chat book of cycling exploits would be entertaining.


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## BoldonLad (5 Sep 2020)

Well done!

Do we really have to wait until next year for another tour?


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## HobbesOnTour (5 Sep 2020)

BoldonLad said:


> Well done!
> 
> Do we really have to wait until next year for another tour?


It's almost 2 years since his last one (look it up!) so next year is ahead of schedule!

Where's yours? 

We've been blessed this week with TWO father son bike adventures! 
The other one is here

Great reading and wonderful inspiration in both!


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## theloafer (23 Dec 2020)

I've really enjoyed following this tour congratulations


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## RoMeR (16 May 2021)

Vantage said:


> Day 5.
> 
> Heading towards Driffield, dad nipped into a shop for milk and some Rennie tablets for my heartburn and came out with 2 pints of milk and half a dozen cans of Guinness. Guess who ended up lugging those to the site? Shoved into the front panniers the bike handled like a drunk pig. Shimmy all the time and every time I took a hand off the bar to change gear I'd veer off course and wobble all over. This bike doesn't like front loads.
> Having put on some nice warm and dry clothes after the soaking yesterday I was less than impressed when a few miles into our ride it started drizzling.
> ...


I'm new to the site so only just found your TR, really looking forward to your next, thanks.


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## Vantage (16 May 2021)

RoMeR said:


> I'm new to the site so only just found your TR, really looking forward to your next, thanks.


 Might be a while thanks to effin covid


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## avecReynolds531 (24 May 2021)

Thanks for a great read - really enjoyed it.


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## HobbesOnTour (24 May 2021)

avecReynolds531 said:


> Thanks for a great read - really enjoyed it.


It really is a great read!
Whenever I'm in need of a bit of inspiration or pep I have a read. 

The next installment might be a while, but I'm sure it'll be worth the wait. Besides, there's a whole new tent to be sacrificed to the Touring Gods in a fiery ceremony


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## cwskas (24 May 2021)

Vantage said:


> I felt a bit emotional when we rolled up to the WOTR sign. We'd done it. 168 miles across the North of England on bicycles. We hadn't strangled each other. If fact we'd got along quite well and had a few laughs along the way. We'd even discussed doing another tour next year! Wales or Scotland, although Pam has burned it into stone that she's not driving us to Scotland. Something to figure out later.
> Dad and I shook hands and congratulated each other and then went in search of Pam. We all sat on a bench overlooking the sea and stuffed fish'n'chips down our throats and then loaded up for the drive home.
> 
> Thanks for reading and the likes 😊


I don't know how I missed this thread for so long. It was fantastic! 

Willie


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