9 minute read
On the borders of bewilderment
Bamburgh Castle and the tragic princess
Bamburgh Castle is currently occupied by the Armstrong family, and it is believed to have been continually inhabited, for at least 1,400 years. Occupied not only by people, but also many ghosts… including the Pink Lady, a Nothumbrian princess who fell in love with a young man disapproved of by her father. Forced to separate for seven years, and after being falsely told he had married another, she is said to have jumped from the battlements wearing a pink dress, and is reported to be seen regularly re-enacting her melancholy demise… Lighten-up dad
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To celebrate his 68th birthday, Suffolk-based Audaxer John Thompson, left, put his map-reading skills to the test on a strength-sapping series of rides through the beautiful but challenging landscapes of southern
Scotland and Northumbria. Here is his tale of wrong turns, taxing hills, tidal causeways and accidental vodka-swigging in the rugged borderlands…
On the borders of bewilderment
TO CELEBRATE MY BIRTHDAY, I decided it was time to finally tick that box – and visit Holy Island on England’s north-east coast.
I’d noticed that Dick and Lucy McTaggart were promoting a series of events from Galashiels, which is a comfortable riding distance from the island. So I decided to kick off my tour by taking part in an Audax – Lucy’s Newcastle ‘Ton’ at the end of July last year.
I travelled to Galashiels by train on my birthday and booked into the Watson Lodge guest house – a bike-friendly place which serves breakfast from 7am, which meant I wasn’t going to be rushed getting to the start line.
We set off, and after a few hundred yards hit the first uphill stretch. The route passed a church with a sign which read: “Try praying”. Was somebody trying to tell me something?
The scenery, though, was immediately striking – lots of rolling hills, but nothing
too challenging. With a 32-tooth bottom sprocket I stayed in the 50-tooth ring. The early part of the route is a combination of roads and cycle paths to Selkirk, from where you take the B7009 to Ettrick.
From Ettrick it’s a short distance to the first control at Tulieshaw where Dick and Lucy were stationed in a lay-by with drinks and flapjacks – which were appreciated. The rural lanes were narrow, but offered lovely scenery. The road involved a long drag climb, steep enough for to require my 34 chainring. However, with the appropriate sprocket it was a comfortable climb. I felt pleased with how I tackled it, creating the joy of everything good about cycling – the self-satisfaction of your fitness, and the quiet roads through lovely scenery.
The weather wasn’t bad, but not great. It was one of those mornings where the strong wind made it look like rain one moment, then the next moment the sun came out. It was near the top of the climb that I copped the only short shower of the
day and I felt a bit cool descending. At the bottom of the descent the bridge over the River Esk provided a scenic view. From there it was all pleasant lanes to Hawick.
I didn’t enjoy the congested streets of Hawick, and wasn’t sorry to leave it behind after a light bite and drink. The weather improved in the afternoon, with more sunshine, the wind having dropped slightly. In any case, when the wind had been blowing it was behind me – and that can’t be bad!
It was after Hawick that the real climbing started. The hill on the B6399 is a particularly long drag, and steep enough to require the 34 ring. In fact, I decided that I might as well stay in the 34 for the rest of the ride. It was a nice descent to the next receipt control at Newcastleton – which is, you will realise, the source of the event’s name, and a nice play on words, because the ride is 100 miles. Actually, it’s 105 miles in total.
There were a number of riders refuelling at the cafés here. I hadn’t studied the route sheet or GPS track too closely, so still had to check where we went from there. Another rider advised that it was a retrace to Hawick – back over the climb. It wasn’t what I wanted to hear. It’s the psychology of retracing over a hill you thought was behind you, I suppose.
There was no point feeling nervous about retracing the climb so I took a deep breath and got on with it. In the end, it wasn’t quite as tough on the return, and once at the top it’s a glorious descent all the way to Hawick.
At the receipt control a young lady struck up conversation. “Are you doing that biking thing?” she asked. I said I was, and heading for Galashiels. With a wry smile she said: “You know nothing.” One takes such comments from non-cyclists with a dose of salts. However, considering the climbs awaiting me perhaps she had a point!
The next leg is just five miles to the Denholm info control, along scenic lanes and through picturesque villages, including Hassendean. It’s only 23km from Denholm back to Galashiels but, as Lucy had warned, this is where the really stingy hills start. They are mostly short and steep, and they took such a toll on my legs that I arrived at the McDonalds with just five minutes in hand. All in all it was a lovely, if testing day on the bike.
On the following day I enjoyed a relaxed breakfast as I knew I wouldn’t be going far. The tiredness in my legs led me to cut the ride far shorter than originally intended. My planned route involved a little circuit, heading out to Melrose, then
turning on to a lane to Langshaw. It was quite gentle at first, but after a mile it got vicious – five miles of climbing. But beyond there the lane was picturesque and nicely wooded, overlooked by rolling hills. The stretch on the A7 was less than three miles and not especially busy.
I was back at Watson Lodge around midday and had an easy afternoon, strolling around Galashiels, going for a bite, sitting in the sun and reading in my room. In the evening I patronised the local Wetherspoon.
The third day was sunny. I planned to follow the St Cuthbert Way – named after the Northumbrian monk, and one of England’s most important mediaeval saints – from Galashiels to Bamburgh, a distance of 65 miles.
It began with a ride to Melrose, a charming old-world town which looked especially nice in the sunshine. I switched the Garmin on for the “Way” – not that I needed it in the very early stages because initially it’s well-signed.
It follows what I think might be the old road to Newtown, then crosses the A68 to a nice lane and then a well-surfaced off-road stretch through lovely scenery, including a view of the River Tweed and Dryburgh Abbey.
After Clintmains I turned on to the B6404 to St Boswells and was puzzled to see the Garmin indicating “off course.” I hadn’t seen any signposts. Yes, I know, I had the Garmin! Obviously I hadn’t looked at it closely enough. In St Boswells I looked at the old-school map to get my bearings. Getting back on-route involved two main road spurts. First on to the A68, then on to the A699 to get to a pleasant lane through Maxton.
Shortly afterwards I went off-route again. The lane didn’t have a signpost so I assumed it wasn’t the route. The map indicated I wasn’t far astray, and I soon passed the junction with the lane I should have used. I followed the B-road to Nisbet where I took a lane to join the A698 just south-east of Crailling.
The route gets very scenic coming into the Cheviots but, of course, hilly too! I arrived at Morebattle nicely at lunchtime so made use of the village shop, and sat in the sun with a sandwich and a soft drink. I’d bought two drinks but decided to save one for later.
The Cheviots scenery was stunning for the next 20 miles to Wooler, but it got even hillier, and the effect of the earlier Audax was still in my legs. I continued to Kirk Yetholm, then crossed the border into England where I stopped to have that other drink. I thought I’d bought a flavoured water drink. I had – sort of. I downed a fair swig before realising it was indeed “flavoured” – with vodka!
It was then on through Kirknewton to Wooler, then Belford. On the final six miles to Bamburgh the road was busy but pleasant enough along the coast. I was impressed by the signs put up by Northumberland County Council advising drivers of the 1.25 metres they’re supposed to allow when overtaking cyclists.
Although I could have ridden the Way in one day, I was mindful of the tide times for the causeway to the island. If I’d suffered any delays I could have come unstuck. In any case, Bamburgh is worth seeing.
The next day started with a full English breakfast. I’d checked tide times, and it indicated it would be safe to cross from 11.20am. I didn’t take the direct route to Belford – and inevitably took some wrong turns. I have to blame my bad mapreading. The compensation was that the route was scenic, passing through the hamlet of Buckton. Eventually I got back on to the Way for the final few miles to the island. The causeway is approximately three miles long, but with the breeze from the sea creating something of a headwind it seemed to go on forever. That doesn’t mean it was boring – on the contrary it has its own special beauty and character.
I took my time exploring the island, found a café and had a snack and relaxed relaxing in the sun for a while. Back in Bamburgh that evening I ate at the Castle pub, a popular local watering hole with a nice atmosphere and good ales. I talked with a couple who were also staying at the Sunningdale. It was one of those wellmeaning but classic conversations one often has with non-cyclists. The lady asked about my day so I explained I’d cycled to Holy Island. She replied, “You should have said, we could have taken you in the car.”
On the following day I rode the 65 miles back to Galashiels, and had some more navigational issues, though I enjoyed a pleasant detour to Kelso, an attractive old town. My tired legs, combined with the pleasure of relaxing in the sun, meant I had to force myself to get back on the bike.
I arrived back at the Watson Lodge just before 6pm, considerably later than I should have but it had been a great cycling experience. After showering, I unwound in the Wetherspoon over food and beer. Two days later I was supposed to be riding the Essex Rivers and Reservoirs 200 Audax from Witham. I settled for the 100!
