Day 9.. Headwind Hell

 

Today I had organised a boat trip round some of the islands to see what wildlife was there to see. The trip was from kallin, roughly 11 miles from the campsite, so the plan was to cycle there, go on the boat and cycle back... easy flat roads... no problem.

Do you hear the laughter start to echo?

I set off, knowing that on the way there I would have a side tail wind and a side headwind most of the way back. It was also an opportunity to test out a lesser used feature of my Garmin Etrex, that of route finding. Usually I plan a route on my computer at home and upload it into my garmin to follow when I get to my start point, now I was going to try and plug in a destination and  let garmin work out the route for me.

So off I went... right out of the campsite then immediately left... 

down a gravel track which got rougher and more gravelly by the second.

Then a dead end... hmmm... the garmin was pointing towards a gate and beyond a grass track over the fields... nope... sorry garmin... not on my road bike. Around I turned and headed back to the main road. Fortunately I pretty much kneew which way I was going to go. Direction finding round here isn't hard... there is usually. only one main road leading north to south or vice versa and anywhere you want to go lies off that. Also if you get lost, it is very easy to orientate yourself as the very flat landscape allows you to see landmarks for miles. For example the wind turbine near my campsite could ve seen 11 miles away from my destination today.

So I plodded onwards... the tail wind being more of a side wind and not especially helpful. Over the causeways where I nearly met head on, the only stoopid car driver that exists on this island. I was just emering from a single track bit of road to a. double. bit on a bend... normally roumd here drivers  drive reasonably slowly and are curteous to cyclists, waiting patiently for you to reach a passing place or crawling slowly past you.

This driver hurtled down the double track road at a speed of knots to the bend and the entrance to the single track piece of road. She was going so fast that she careered into. my side of the road..

I saw her coming, nearly 2 wheels off the ground as she struggled to make the corner... I sat up straight in my saddle and motioned for her to slow down, which she blithely ignored.

As she screeched past me, I raised my arms in annoyance at how dangerously she was driving. The lorry driver who was following her shrugged his shoulders in a sympathetic gesture to me then lifted his hand in acknowledgement of her stoopidity.

For the most part, I love the drivers here. Pretty much everyone waves a hand in thank you or greetimg as you pass or to aknowledge that you slowed down at a passing place for them. Its really nice.

As I got to the turn off to the harbour, the road rose up in a gradual gradient and I went through the top of the moors, I saw a buzzard hovering above, waiting to dive down on its unsuspecting prey and a short eared owl (I presume) took off as I rode past giving me a glimpse of whitish feathers as it disappeared over the next hillock.

The road surface was not the greatest and continued on up and over to the little harbour, where I found to my delight a cafe, which served the best bacon butties (or maybe it was because I haven't had anything but rice and pasta for a week and a half. I downed one, promised to come back for another after the boat trip... gulped a very nice hot chocolate down and headed over to the Lady Anne, the boat aboard which I would be spending the next two hours.

Several other people. clambered on board, one couple from Wallingford just down the road from me (apparently this is where all Reading area people go on holiday).

We set off over a very choppy sea.. the wind, howling overnight had not diminished in strength and was making the boat see saw a lot. Unlike the calm ferry where I felt not great, I loved this. I kept my eyes pealed for dolphins and whales but given that the season had been so cold up till now, they would all probably not been seen till later in the season... still searching is half the fun right?

We saw numerous gannets and herons, which I have to say don't interest me so. much... I saw soooo many herons of all different types in the Amazon, that im kinda heroned out. But when we saw a sea eagle rise from the ground, that was kinda cool. He dove over the cliffs too quick for me to catch a picture. One of the guys running the trip had looked at my poor pictures from the walk the other day and confirmed that they were golden eagles I had seen, which was cool. All being well, we should see a nest today.

We pootled round the small uninhabited islands, the settlers having abandoned them long ago, leaving their mark of a few ruins of buildings here or there, which the deep quietly chomped the grass round. Deer are apparently really strong swimmers and come back here in the rutting season. They have done so well here that they almost outnumber the humans on the islands around!

The eagles nest was high up on a rock. and with a borrowed pair of binoculars you could just make out one of them sitting on top of it. We had seen one eagle rise up and fly over the hill as we approached but again too far away and too quick to capture.

All too soon, we arrived back at the harbour and although we had not seen loads it had still been a lovely trip out to see the place from a different perspective.

Back on the bike... yes after a second bacon butty...

I knew the back part would be painful

 The wind, already gusty had whipped up into a new frenzy and this time it was straight at me!

It is a special kind of hell, the headwind so strong that you are peddling through treacle, with gritted teeth, every muscle in your body straining to make headway against its malevolent strength. The wind almost drowned out the laughter echoing round of the cycling gods, enjoying the spectacle of the cyclist, once again battling to stay moving forward. This is what gives them pleasure, the suffering in achieving the destination.

This particular suffering was intensified by the few short rises in the road that made me drop down to a granny gear, despite being in the big ring all the way here. It was hellish and made worse by the fact that I knew it would last until the road to the campsite turned off the main road about half a mile before the end.

So I suffered and enjoyed it,  pitting my ebbing strength against the elements is what makes me feel alive, whether it is just a headwind on a flattish road like now or a torrent of rain on a mountain pass. Each episode of suffering is different to another but all can be conquered by keeping the pedddles turning, the legs pushing onwards... one pedal turn, one step at a time. As long as you are moving forward, thats what counts. Admittedly this doesnt rank very highly in my days of epic headwinds but it was enough to make me smile as I turned off the road in triumph, hearing the laughter of the gods silenced in the beautiful tailwind that punted me back the last half mile to the campsite.

I was a little tired and the wind is absolutely battering my tent. I love sitting in my tent, warm and snug whilst the elements swirl around me, an oasis of calm amidst the maelstrom of the weather.

I waited to see if the wind would die down but it was having none of it... so I dived out of the tent long enough to boilmy pasta for the evening meal. and then hunkered down reading my book about worse storms on high mountains in far away places.

Tomorrow, back up north to the beach campsite before heading towards home.  for now... snug in my sleeping bag 😴