Tiverton to Lostwithiel and fatigue causes forgetfulness | Cycling John O’Groats to Lands End

I ripped up the plan and decided it was time to take a more direct route today.

I was knackered before I even started, which may go some way towards explaining what happened next.

I spent the first couple of miles fighting a sense of having forgotten something, and mentally running through a list of everything I should have packed.

Nope. I could remember packing everything, so I relaxed into the ride.

Considering the fact I had barely been able to walk since yesterday’s ride I was making surprisingly swift progress.

I put it down to the first few miles being pretty flat. A feature of the ride that didn’t last long.

4 miles in I reached a really steep hill and was up on my pedals for the first time. I immediately noticed something didn’t feel right about the bike, the back was swinging around wildly.

Fearing I hadn’t attached one of the panniers properly I looked at the back wheel.

No panniers.

I hadn’t forgotten to pack anything at all, I had forgotten my luggage entirely.

Doh.

After making the return trip to Tiverton for my bags I was back to tackle the hill. It seemed to go on for about a fortnight, was incredibly slow and I was about ready to collapse by the time I got to the top of it.

The downhill on the other side was fantastic though, and I hit my highest speed of the trip so far, 42.5 mph.

It was almost midday by the time I reached Crediton, and I hadn’t even done 20 miles (and 8 of those were unnecessary), so my prospects of making decent progress didn’t look good.

I felt like asking them if they take bikes too.

The next 20 miles to Okehampton was just as hilly. Tough going, but it was just a case of plodding on as best I could.

After a late lunch, I started off again at 3pm and headed out of town. I was really noticing the cold high up on the moors, and could see my breath as I was riding.

Several miles later I was faced with an unpleasant decision. Dual carriageway, no through road or backtrack 5 miles to pick up a B road.

I didn’t like any of them.

I settled on the no through road. Reasoning there must be a way of getting a bike through (though quite how I came to that conclusion I had no idea).

Hope came to the rescue in a sign for a cycle route, which when I got on it was a blissfully flat old railway line running along the edge of Dartmoor.

I embraced it.

I was deviating from my route, heading South towards Tavistock, but it seemed a viable route towards St Austell.

After a few miles I was forced back onto the roads, and after some descents some serious hills back up onto Dartmoor before finally dropping into Tavistock.

It was getting on a bit, but from here I thought I would give it a go for the final 38 miles to St Austell.

I hadn’t counted on terrain like the Tamar Valley. About as hilly as it gets, and the hills just kept on coming.

As the evening drew on I was getting slower and slower, practically collapsing at the top of e every hill.

I gave up at 9pm, finding a nice room above a delightful pub in the town of Lostwithiel, just 8 miles short of St Austell.

I did have time to spot another interesting car.