C2C Day 1 - Whitehaven to Penrith


Day one started in torrential rain on a packed train to Carlisle full of guys in Kilts heading down to watch Scotland play Cardiff. Having said that, we nearly didn't get on the train as the Guard took one look at the bikes and said "no chance". That was until Insto did the puppy dog eyes and flourished the cycle booking and the bikes were duly lashed in alongside a pile of luggage and we started to consider what we'd let ourselves in for. The party at the table next to us cracked open the cans of Bloody Mary and Vodka & Orange but, like true athletes, we only indulged in caffeine and a Kit Kat when the trolley came round.

Off at Carlisle and onto a Whitehaven train and then we finally jumped on the bikes and rode down to the C2C starting point, which didn't take much finding as you can see.

Giddy as wee schoolboys we dipped our back tyres in the Irish Sea as tradition dictates and set off at pace through the old railway network of tracks leading out of Whitehaven . Then we got into the Lake District proper, the sun came out and Insto unleashed the first of his flapjacks, the calorie laden tasty snacks that operated as our main fuel for the next three days. There was a pleasant run until the hills started to make an appearance as we climbed up Mockerin Fell, past Fangs Brow Farm and up Whinlatter Pass (no, I'm not making these names up). By the time we got to Keswick it was 1pm and we realised that we had only eaten a Kit Kat and a flapjack between us all day.

A quick and pretty rubbish lunch later and we were off. For about five minutes until Insto got a puncture. And then another one.

And then we got lost.

And climbed a big hill we didn't need to, just as it started to rain in the way that the Lake District specialises in. Sunshine at 3.55pm, black as night by 4pm and by 4.05pm people are piling sandbags up by their doors.

We made it into Penrith and circled around looking for somewhere to stay. As we went past the market square we started a really stiff climb and the legs started complaining so thankfully there was a pub, The New Vic, who offered us a room, a lock up for the bikes and a "drink ten pints get your eleventh free" loyalty card. We started to make inroads into that immediately.

Dinner was in the bizarre surroundings of an Indian Restaurant in an old cinema foyer which made as much sense as anything else that had happened.

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