To Chepstow

Bridgwater to Chepstow (70 miles)

Not a bad weather forecast, at least for the first part of the day, and a prospect of a reasonably favourable wind.

Having exhausted all discussion of CAB matters and packed our bags we set off to retrace our way around the outskirts of the town and then turn eastwards over the M5 heading for the Somerset levels and places with real Somerset sounding names like Chedzoy and Sutton Mallet. The word ‘level’ is very encouraging, because although not totally flat – each of the settlements clings to whatever high ground there is – in relative terms this is going to be our first non-hilly spell.

As we head down the road to Slape Cross we catch up with a jogger who has an instantly recognisable hairstyle. It is Sylvia putting in a bit of supplementary morning exercise. We cruise along beside her for a few minutes before saying goodbye again and pressing on.

I observe that my right calf muscles are now feeling fine. So whatever their previous problem might have been cycling has not added to it.

After Moorlinch and Greinton we turn north at Pedwell over a bit of a hill that actually requires some lower gears and takes us to Shapwick. This is familiar territory for a while as we cycle along the same road as one we used on a previous Tandem long weekend in the area. We pass peat extraction sites and once again wonder at the ecological wisdom of all this valuable material being removed to supply the nation’s gardeners in their passion for pretty if non-sustainable horticulture. We also pass the visitor centre – too early to even consider a coffee stop. At the road junction beside the pub in Westhay we pause to look at the map and consult local knowledge. As is so often the case, what looks like straight-ahead on the map is in fact a definite left turn in terms of road priorities and markings.

Half a mile further on we turn right and head east along the narrow lane that runs beside the drainage dykes across Westhay Moor and Godney Moor. This is real Levels stuff, but luckily despite the recent heavy rains the lanes are not flooded and so we do not need to fall back on our plan B, which was to head on to the B3139 that follows the higher ridge to Wells. “The sun is shining and the pedalling is easy”, to misquote the musical.

We skirt around Callow Hill looking for a right turn into a tiny back lane for Wells. As there are no road signs we check with someone in their back garden as we turn right into a lane that looks as though it might improve. Or equally could be a short dead end to nowhere. In a short distance we startle two deer, which also startle us. They break through the hedge and hurtle along the road. One escapes into the adjacent field but the other decides to double back and bolt past us. There really is no spare space in this small lane for a tandem and a high speed deer running on a quite unpredictable course towards us, but it rockets by without collision no doubt relieved to have escaped from this two-headed wheeled monster.

Without further excitement we arrive at Wells and do a couple of circuits of parts of the town’s small but intricate one-way system. I assure Sheila that “buses only” includes bikes and we emerge into the Market Place full of holiday makers and a good turn out to form the CAB welcoming party. We consider re-arranging another banner that happens to be in front of the CAB office but it looks well secured so we opt to go behind it and dress the bike and organise everyone for the publicity photos. Having taken these, we all walk the short distance through the gate onto the green in front of Wells cathedral for some more photos. No mistaking where these are: Tandem + CAB staff against dramatic backdrop of the cathedral west front.

The sunshine really is rather good and so we return to the Market Place and sit on a bench for a “coffee break” The place is full of OAPs on a trip out and inevitably we get drawn into conversation with some of them about bikes and in particular tandems, managing to score a record of three separate but simultaneous, “I used to have a tandem…..” discussions, including much reminiscing about classic items of 1920/30s cycle components. Eventually we remind ourselves that we have a journey to be getting along with and Chepstow is still a long way away. So after saying goodbye, visiting the public loos and stretching the legs we try to get ourselves mentally prepared for the climb up onto the Mendips.

We start off by walking back through the cathedral close and then mount the tandem to head out of town in search of the Old Bristol Road. We have opted for this climb as a change of route for scaling the Mendips from the road up through Wookey Hole that I have previously climbed by bike while on the West Country Way. The climb is quite pleasant through woods most of the way. We cycle the whole way to the top without walking, but with a short pause half way up (no need to over exert ourselves is there?). In fact it is not as hard as expected and even Sheila expresses some surprise that the top is in fact just that and there isn’t another mile of hidden climbing lurking somewhere around a corner.

The great thing about travelling this way across this big lump of Mendip limestone geology is that once on the top it is basically flat until the far side is reached when there are very satisfactory choices of route by which to whoosh down again. We have a fairly high speed sunny run through yet another landscape, past Hunters Lodge Inn and the Castle of Comfort pub before finally whizzing down to end alongside Chew Valley Lake and onto the B3114 to take us into Chew Stoke. We are heading into Bristol from the west on this trip, having had our sufficiency of bad-puncture-days on previous excursions along the Bristol and Bath railway path. Our thoughts turn to the notion of lunch and we target Winford as a possible stop. A suitable pub in the village offers a welcome so we park the tandem on the grass outside leaning on a picnic bench and head indoors for food.

Mindful of a weather forecast that suggests that the fine weather will take a turn for the worse before the day ends we balance a relaxing stop with the wish to not linger too long. Perhaps it is the memory of previously crossing the River Severn in fog and impending darkness about four hours behind schedule on our previous Easter run while doing a Welsh End to End cycle journey. Nonetheless we do not get away before one of the other lunchtime diners, who has been eyeing up the tandem out of the window, feels obliged to engage us in a bicycle conversation. It turns out she has a racing past (time trialling) and with a touch of lost youth talks about her cycling days with close ratio blocks and such stuff. Why is it that most people who casually talk to you about bikes look younger than us but always speak of some former youthful time as though growing up and maturity requires the ending of time spent in the saddle? Heck we only got into this cycling business three years ago.

A pleasant run eventually brings us to the edge of the Avon Gorge and the Clifton Suspension Bridge. A gem of a bridge. One of Brunel’s best and a dramatic setting. We walk across admiring the view and taking a photo to add to the “famous bridges crossed by bike” collection. At the far end a passing young woman offers to take a photo of the two of us, so we gratefully pose beside the wrought iron “cable” in front of the bridge’s east tower. We even have colour co-ordinated tops on today!

Armed with a photocopy street map of Bristol we set off to navigate our way across the city. After a short way, Sheila realises that she has lost the nosepiece from her cycling specs (not for the first time). She decides she may have dropped them on the bridge while we were stopped. Although the chances of finding such a small piece of rubber that could be almost anywhere have to be about zero, I stroll onto the grass on Observatory Hill and prop myself against the tandem while she walks back. 15 minutes later she returns triumphant – this woman could play for Britain if needles-and-haystacks ever becomes an Olympic sport.

We head off across Clifton Down on Ladies Mile Centre Road (what a great street name), and find our way through Sea Mills and out along the Weston Road with a few stops and checks but no major navigational difficulties (Bristol and Edinburgh are our only two big cities that we have to cross on the route). Skirting Castle Hill we navigate a small one-way system and turn north under the M5 and on towards Easter Compton, grateful that the road goes around and not over Spanorium Hill. I have a moment of dis-orientation at one junction where we stop beside a familiar house (it was being refurbished when we came by the previous year). But after we watch a pony and trap go by, I sort out my left from right and agree with Sheila on the way to go. I think that the problem is that I remember bits of the tortuous Sustrans route we used before, whereas this time we are following a much more logical route that I have to say is also a much better cycle ride. Under the railway at Pilning and through Awkley to cross the motorway (Whatever No. the M4 is since the new Severn bridge was opened) brings us to Olveston, and then on to Aust.

As we reach the motorway bridge the sky finally becomes all grey and the rain from the south looks imminent, so we head straight for the viewing spot to try for a better tandem + suspension bridge photo than last year’s foggy gloom. It is Sheila’s turn to pose. With Chepstow in sight, so to speak, I feel in afternoon tea mood and we head back for the Services. We wheel the tandem inside and park it at our table. I’m not messing about with locks here. This place is Burger King ambience in its lowest possible “all civilisation ends here” guise, but we have tea and I take a photo of Sheila + tandem + polystyrene cups + bubble gum machines. Really a wide-angle lens is required for the full horror to be captured, but one can’t cycle the length of Britain without one Motorway Service Station stop? (OK, perhaps on reflection it might be possible).

I peer out of the window and realise that it has set in to serious rain outside, so we don Goretex clobber before setting out to cross the bridges (Must not forget there is the River Wye as well as the River Severn to cross). We are heading across the border here so that, albeit briefly, our End to End journey through Britain manages to include all three constituent countries. Although it is wet there is not much wind and so the exposure mid-way across the River Severn is not as bad as our location suggests it could be. We decide on a variation on the run in to Chepstow, avoiding the cycle path beside the A466, and arrive in the town centre and then locate our B&B without difficulty as the rain stops for a while.

The folk at the B&B know that we have a tandem and they inform us that their plan is for us to put it in the garage. The man of the house hauls up the broken up and over door nearly braining himself in the process as it requires propping by a stepladder. As well as a second, and decidedly dead, car the garage is chock-a-block full of an accumulation of objects of all sorts. There are various husband and wife discussions about moving things, although it looks like a full weekend job to us and we point out that the tandem has some width even with handlebars turned and is “longer than you think”. To be honest if we had a photo of the tandem it would be tricky to slip it into the available gap let alone the real thing. Happily this view is finally shared by all and we readily agree to their plan B, which involves hauling the tandem up some steps around a tricky corner and into the conservatory via the back garden. Now when it comes to lifting the tandem and threading through awkward spots, with my National Cycle Network obstacle course experience, I’m in a class of my own, so we soon accomplish this manoeuvre. Then its upstairs and hot showers as the first priority.

Later in the evening we seek out dinner in the George Hotel, that provides a quiet and relaxed atmosphere with a pub type menu. Over our meal we thumb through some of their glossy books to swat up on "Black and White" architecture and to get a feel for some of the places ahead of us in the next couple of days. Later in the evening I phone in our mileages to Kevin in Graphics who is posting our progress on the NFDC Intranet. I also discover that I have left my toothbrush behind in Bridgwater.

This evening really represents the end of the first leg of our End to End journey, completing the ride across the West Country. We have seen the sea at Lands End and on the south and north Cornish coasts, but will not do so again until the far north of Scotland (not counting various Firths). We have cycled some delightful tiny lanes in Cornwall and Devon, admiring stunning scenery and the detail of spring flowers; and have tested our hill climbing legs to the full (flatter for a bit now?). Moorland, downs, Exmoor, views of Dartmoor, Quantocks, Somerset Levels, Mendip Hills and the Avon and Severn are just parts of the Kaleidoscope so far, with lots more to come.

Chepstow to Ludlow