Today was definitely the hardest day yet and quite frankly not one that is going to rank as one of my favourites for reasons that will become clear. It all started out quite well in decent weather as we headed up into an area we didn't know but were fairly confident would be nice and flat - all the nasty hills were behind us now surely...hmm. Turns out Shropshire has hills too. I'm starting to think we should have researched our country's topography a bit more thoroughly. Anyway, we headed roughly due north, the drizzle started and we soon found ourselves in the middle of nowhere and pushing our bikes along sheep tracks among other things. The scenery was great around here actually and things went pretty well all in all . Finally we got to the end of the hills and we saw a beautiful flat landscape open up in front of us (photo above)...we rocketed down one of the longest downhills so far - The Long Mynd as its apparently called - and Dave recorded something like 45mph on Garmin. Good, hairy fun.
And then, on an innocuous little slope, out of nowhere, Dave's whole gear system snapped, almost pulling his back wheel off and (we thought) bending his bike frame in the process. We're prepared for punctures, chain repairs and the other minor things you might expect - well, we've watched the DVD that came free with Total Bike anyway - but this was in a different league altogether and we had absolutely no idea how to get ourselves out of the mess we suddenly realised we were in... I sort of seized up a bit actually - I think my brain went into shutdown because I just couldn't think how we were going to get any further. I stared at the broken bike blankly as Dave said things like "I don't know what we're going to do" and "Mate, you're not saying anything". The game was up. The show was over. The Fat Lady was singing.
However...we were lucky in that it all happened near a pub which happened to have a very friendly landlord and a chap working for him who had a van and was willing to take us the 10 miles to Shrewsbury, where he dropped us off outside a bike shop. Salt of the Earth is the phrase, I think. Anyway, to cut a long story short we finally got the bike fixed in a different shop on the other side of town and about two hours later we were ready for the off. I was deeply depressed by this time (depression is something no one had warned me about but it was around now that I found out about the mental challenge that LeJog presents) and I honestly wanted Dave's bike to be unrepairable so that we could go home. But Dave took the bull by the horns and was determined to pull us through the afternoon - which he did, but it was a looooooong afternoon. The GPS let us down and we ended up going way off course and back into Wales, through Wrexham. I'm not a fan of Wrexham.
Tired and emotional, we got into a Happy Eater Motel near Northwich at about 9pm after a final 20 miles that was fraught but thankfully fairly flat.
Had to call out for pizza because we were too late for anything else and the traffic kept us awake, but the beds were soft and warm and that was all that mattered.
Dreamed about roads and fast lorries.
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