Day 4: Chepstow to Shrewsbury

Total: 98 miles
Time in saddle: 6 hrs 35 mins (approx)
Average Speed: 15 mph (approx)
Max. Speed: 43 mph (approx)
Cumulative: 328 miles
Chafing Rating: 2/5 (uh-oh)

In The Big Walk, a personal account of the 1960 foot-race from John O'Groats to Land's End, sponsored by Billy Butlin to raise publicity for his prison holiday camps, the author, A.Walker (also known as A. Nonymous), describes the feeling of waking up after the first day of walking 40 miles in a pair of old leather boots along icy roads on 3-weeks' training: "On descending the stairs the next morning, I was ashamed to discover that my upper legs were somewhat stiff." I know how he feels at the end of Day 4. Ten-minute, stone cold baths, which are deeply unpleasant and accompanied by hyper-ventilating and howling, have become the order of the day, followed by a massage (self-serve unfortunately) to keep the legs working. Last night it worked a treat and I am hoping it does the same tomorrow as we have another 92 miles to do to get to Preston.

The winner of the Big Walk completed the race in 15 days on foot. That makes me feel inadequate. That was my 'friend' Alistair's intention when he bought the book for me. He is very thoughtful like that. He also supplied me with examples of retired colonels with names like Humphrey Babington-Splatt who rode to Land's End, and back again, in 1873 on a penny farthing dressed in tweed and woollen socks in mid-Winter.

Anyway, what a difference a day makes. Yesterday's wet and miserable truckfest was replaced today with what almost everyone thought was the best day's cycling they had ever had. After a steep ascent from the hotel up to Chepstow, being passed by school buses with gurning faces pressed up against the window at us, we headed past the racecourse and down a spectacular 4-mile descent to Tintern Abbey.

On-board photography by John

L to R: Me, Craig, Nick at Tintern Abbey

We then headed to Monmouth along the beautiful Wye Valley, criss-crossing the Wales-England border.

Thank you

The road surfaces were fantastic and all the group kept a good pace. What slowed us down was all the stopping to take photographs of mirror-glass rivers and sweeping valleys.

Near Tintern

If ever anyone is feeling a little low, the Mitchell Brothers (Tommy and Mickey Wynn) will lift them with brilliant wisecracks. These boys are Londoners through and through and do a nice line in Cockney rhyming slang. Tommy was asking us, at one stage, where we all got our padded cycle shorts. At least that's what I worked out, eventually, when he said, "Where did you all get those shorts from that make you look like you've got massive 'Amptons?" I was thinking, "Hampton Court. What does that rhyme with?" And then I realised, "Ah. Hampton Wick."

Tommy had his second clipless moment in 2 days. Clipless pedals hold your shoes into the pedals so you benefit from the rotation of your feet when cycling, rather than just the downwards force appied to traditional pedals. If you don't unclip soon enough, they can get stuck and you topple sideways. I did this at a junction in Lewisham once and a passer-by told me I was an idiot. Yesterday, Tommy's performance was followed by an embarrassed jump up and a nonchalant lean on the bike as if nothing had happened. Today, he actually gave us some warning and I had my camera ready. We had stopped at a bridge to take pictures of the view and we heard, "Oh no. 'Ere I go again." As he hit the ground I heard myself say, "Stay there a second" and I got the shot I wanted. Sorry, Tommy. I should have said, "Are you alright?" He has a new name: Tommy Tarmac.

Tommy Tarmac still with foot in pedal

We made gentle progress to the first coffee stop. Rather than eat all the bananas and energy bars supplied for us, John, Craig and I headed for the cafe in the rather oddly positioned furniture shop behind the sheep shearing pens in a village called Wormelow. The coffee and carrot cake was wonderful. We rested aching legs in soft leather sofas and I had a lovely chat with my sister who is at home nursing a broken hip while I do this adventure. If I ever get down on this ride I only have to think of her toughness and stoicism to sort myself out.

I don't know what was in the carrot cake (Lance Armstrong's own recipe), but when we got going again we decided to put the burners on along the A466, passing villages with lovely names like Much Birch, Orcop and Tump. The three of us covered the next 30 miles, which were slightly uphill, in 1 hr 24 mins at an average of over 21 mph. This was the best cycling I have ever done. Riding routes that go from A to B gives you a sense of distance. You are heading somewhere new instead of returning in a circle. When it is along valleys as stunning as this, it does not get any better.

Heaven on a bike: not me, the countryside (on-board photography by John)

I was cycling to the rythm in my head of The Undertones', "I Don't Want To Get Over You", whose fast pace was a better accompaniment to the tenor of the ride, than the usual song that gets lodged in my head on the bike and can't be shifted for 3 days: "Don't Go Breaking My Heart" by Elton John and Kiki Dee.

John, Craig and I had lunch together at Leitwardine, all buzzing after the burn-up and keen to press on this afternoon. Unfortunately there was another problem with the organisation of the routes. The route notes directed us one way, along A roads, while the .gpx files on the Garmin, which we use, sent us another more pleasant route. We didn't know this until about 75 miles in, meaning we missed the afternoon water stop. We are getting through about 5 or 6 litres a day and so 40 miles with no water was not good.

Near Shrewsbury

All things bright and beautiful

Craig on The Red Arrow

To add to the confusion, the computerised route thought we needed a few extra hills to keep us honest. We became very friendly with a man on a rattling, clapped out, old shopping bike, slowing for a chat as we overtook him, wondering how on earth he was going to haul that weighty contraption up the 16% hill that we ascended. At the next T-junction about 3 miles away, after a fast descent, we had to wait before we could pull out, because the man on the shopping bike had appeared again. Huh? This happened three times. Every time we appeared at a junction after 10 minutes of hard riding, we had to wait for the man on the shopping bike to pass, until he turned and said, "You lot are making heavy weather of this section." We could only assume he had a secret tunnel.

We arrived in Shrewsbury at about 6.15pm, after 98 miles, 75 of which were at fast pace, tired but not exhausted. We are really feeling the benefits of all the training and are absolutely loving this experience. I cannot believe how far we have come. It's Preston tomorrow, Carlisle on Sunday and then into Scotland on Monday. The legs are tired but in good shape. Going downstairs is worse than going up when your quads are sore. But we are a long way from being like the colleague of an old friend in Australia, who played too much squash after a long break, and suffered the indignity of having his legs give way as the lift reached the ground floor at work, leaving him to crawl out as his boss and clients walked in.