BOTTOM LEFT TO RIGHT
LANDS END TO N.FORELAND POINT

Distance Cycled: 120.46 miles
(must be some mistake, in fact there were lots of them)
Elapsed Time: 13h 00m
Cycling Time: 9h 15m
Average Speed: 12.9mph (following wind and lots of dual carriageway)
Distance To Date: 318 miles
Total Cycling Time: 26h 47m
Overall Average Speed: 12.05mph

Sometimes life asks that little bit more of you than you had planned. Especially when you end up cycling 50% furher than expected. Today's ride will be etched on the mind alongside other long, wet ones such as Inverness (2001), St.Ives (2002) and Saffron Waldon (2004).

So the plot had been to get Dorchester mid-morning, reach Lymington to catch ferry to Islee of Wight early afternoon (short cut avoiding Southampton apparently), leisurely ride through leafy lanes in warm sunshine, ferry back around 4.30pm and arrive at B&B around 7pm.

And the day had starred well. Yesterday's B&B was fantastic - tumble dried clothes and provided far better route to Dorchester.

Rollout at 0900 straight onto dreaded A35 with thundering lorries sending up clouds of spray from the most recent heavy shower.

From Bridport took country lanes to the base of the ridgeway that would run nearly all way to Dorchester. But first, a huge climb up into the clouds. The view was fantastic from the ridge, but couldn't see any of it due to mist, light rain and driving wind. Nevertheless, a great ride and the legs felt fine all the way up the climb. Just as well with what was to come.

The Isle of Wight ferry at 5.00pm, the rain beats down, many miles still to do, in this hour of need - Kendal Mint Cake

Reached Dorchester after 20 miles, got told off by a policeman for riding in a pedestrianised area (was riding more slowly than old ladies wielding zimmer frames, but they weren't persecuted). Fiddled around for 25 mins including 2 miles in wrong direction before finding right road out of town.

Started to experience graunching noises from the transmission - either chain or freewheel, both of which were new.

Then suffered 2nd navigational error due to dodgy directions and the disappearance of a landmark some time in last 12 yrs since directions produced. Thorughly enjoyed self humming along in light rain on good tarmac past several miles of MOD tank training land, before being deposited too far south in Wareham.

Rain started to hose down so took refuge in pub and had cheese/tomato sarnie (hadn't realised this would be last meal of day). Studied map, noted heavy rain, and opted for "route 1" up to Poole then through Bournemouth and along coastal road to Lymington "a short hop away". High speed dual carriageway up to Poole, bombing along, but then spend 45 mins following Bournemouth direction signs that were clearly designed to keep people out of the town either through frustration, boredom or, in some cases, losing the will to live and expiring. Even wheen picked up signs for Lymington the "short hop" was 13 milles away. By now it was 3.15pm and the schedule was looking 2 hrs behind. Still it rained, still the traffic was inexorable, and still the clock seemed to ticking faster than I was able to pedal.

By now aiming for 4.45pm ferry departure. Came screaming in as ferry about to load.

35 mins respite on crossing spent devouring coffee, sandwich and choc muffin, and storing away for later what every good explorer takes with them when confronted with the elements - a flapjack. This did indeed turn out to be a lifesaver later. See only picture of day due to inclement weather - view from ferry cabin, might just see Isle of Wight through mist.

Reviewed map and logistics and realised nightmare scenario had arrived (one level away from doomsday scenario, but the way things were going....). Would arrive at Isle of Wight around 5.25pm, then had approx. 80 mins cycling, assume 50 mins for ferry to Portsmouth, then 2.5 hours cycling from there - arrive arooind 10pm with no lights and 115 miles the worse for wear. Assuming nothing else went wrong.

Wobbled off ferry at Yarmouth straight into another squall and put the hammer down. At least with only one main road to follow all the way to Newport and then Fishbourne (out of 3 on the entire island) navigation wouldn't be a problem. Didn't expect there to be rush hour but there was, and I was rushing more than most. Meanwhile the clanking transmission was getting worse....

Arrived at ferry point to find it was 20 mins late and just unloading (thank heaven). Spotted a Vincent Black Shadow 1000cc m/bike and got chatting to its friendly owner who explained it was a 1952 machine, ran on virtually any fuel (had to in thoose days) and parts were easily available (usually each part from a different small workshop of wich there were many scattered all over country). The hearbeat of British manufacturing is still alive, but in a specialist way.

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Used return ferry crossing to call B&B saying would be a tensy-weensy bit late - around 3 hrs., and what time did local Indian takeaway shut? Munched serious energy bar so full of carbohydrate that thighs began bulging out "Incredible Hulk"-style. Thang God for lycra.

Was worried about getting lost in Portsmouth and losing more time, but got all navigationals right and enjoyed great cycle path out to A27.

This turned out to be motorway-like dual carriageway but where cars go faster. However tarmac was new, following wind was strong, and was able to blast along the 14 miles to Chichester at 18mph in belief that was saving lots of time ho-ho. But it was already getting dark andf had just yellow waterproof and reflective strips to prevent me becoming another hedgehog statistic.

Last 2 miles saw blood sugar plummet so fished out flapjack which munched away all through and around Chichester. Had altercation with Vauxhall driver trying to save 2 secs by riding over me at roundabout instead of slowing down. He gave me the usual motoring wave and I shook half of my flapjack at him.

As left Chichester on yet more high speed dual carriageway it was getting seriously dark and so jumped off to navigate last 8 miles along country lanes where far fewer cars. Also far fewer non-vandalised roadsigns and got hopelessly lost ending up in farmyards and constantly revisiting "A259 to Bognor".

So dark now couldn't read map, and just had a sequence of village names in head. Flapjack-powered legs still going strong though.

Reached T-junction onto larger road with no roadsign, and internal compass chose right. 2 miles of dark field and trees with no villages prompted despair, but then eureka moment as half-hidden sign appeared with first village name on, then 2nd, 3rd and final one. Rejoice!

Totally dark by time arrived in Barnham, tree-lined main street with long gravel drives with names not numbers. Found shops where saw assistant in Indian takeaway slumped over counter asleep, having given up on me ever arriving. Didn't fancy one now anyway.

Eventually found correct gravel drive with help of 2 locals and staggered in at 10pm on the dot. Too late to get showered, changed and again out for food. Made do with 2 cups of tea and hot bath. Couldn't do washing either...problem for 2 days time!

Had one final scare - sneaked off to bathroom wearing only shorts, then emerged to see someone else on landing to whom I apologised profusely and did rapid cover-up. Turned out to be full length mirror opposite.

Next Page: Day 4