I woke fairly early this morning – my field was again close
to a railway line and I was woken by the 7:05 to wherever – pretty handy
really! I’d had an uncomfortable night’s sleep and my shoulders and back ached.
I was getting a bit sick of sleeping in a tent by this point, of having damp
and dirty clothes and no access to a nice hot shower! All that was due to
change though, as today I was aiming squarely for Truro. To see my wife, to get
clean, to have a proper meal, and to sleep in a proper bed, what more
motivation could I need?
Heading back past the petrol station I had stocked up at
last night, and then turning right, up a steep but mercifully short hill (I
hated long climbs first thing, before I’d had time to warm up my tight and achy
muscles) and then on towards Zeal Monachorum and the A3072. Okehampton wasn’t
too many miles further and the thankfully quiet road was straightforward too –
hilly though! There was a steep climb out of Okehampton and the views south
towards Dartmoor were imposing. I was forced onto the A30, only for half a
mile, but it was more than enough – the road was really busy with heavy traffic
climbing slowly up another steep hill. I got off the main road at the very
first junction and instead headed along the old A30, along a great downhill
that lasted for at least five miles. The next five miles were all uphill though
and I soon found myself finally crossing a bridge over the river Tamar – I had
at last reached Cornwall!
If Okehampton had seemed hilly then Launceston was positively
vertical! Climbing up into the town was pretty hard work and there didn’t seem
to be anywhere appealing to stop for lunch. I carried on, deciding that I had
plenty of food left, and headed towards South Petherwin and then the oddly
named village of Congdon’s Shop. The scenery was really stunning, far more than
I’d expected of the upland area of eastern Cornwall. Upton Cross came next, and
then along to Minions and Common Moor, both really beautiful, with wide,
beautiful skies, rolling upland hills, phallic upright stones and wild horses roaming free.
I managed to take another wrong turn up a lane without a
signpost and found myself following the river Fowey, which was little more than
a stream. As before, I instinctively knew I’d made a wrong turn but didn’t want
to admit it to myself, instead hoping that just around the next corner I’d come
to another turning. I didn’t and instead I spent a few minutes inwardly
complaining about both the scale of maps I was carrying, and the poor quality
of road signs in a county that sells itself as both a holiday destination and
also an outdoor activities playground. After my hissy fit had come to its
natural conclusion I came across a police officer sitting on his police
motorbike in the middle of nowhere! He was sitting there listening to his radio
without a care in the world, and didn’t seem initially very keen to help. He
soon warmed up though, and even turned off his radio – I suppose there isn’t
much crime in Cornwall?! It turned out that he was originally from the same
area of the country as me, and he told me the story of how he came to live in
Cornwall. He also confirmed I was heading in the wrong direction and set me off
in the right direction again.
Back on route and heading towards St Neot and my left knee
collapsed completely, sending agonising shooting pain up and down the entire
length of my knee, spasms rippling through the knee in waves. I stopped
immediately and got the weight off my leg which was in real pain. After a few
minutes rest the pain had subsided a bit, but I didn’t feel confident in
reaching Truro in anything like a reasonable time. I phoned Alice and we
discussed the various options – 1) being to stop and camp for the night, get
plenty of rest and then continue tomorrow, and 2) being to get a lift to Truro
and take tomorrow as a proper rest day. We agreed to go with option 2 and I
decided to carry on and try to reach Bodmin, or beyond to Lanivet, partly so
that Alice and her parents wouldn’t have to come too far, but mostly so that I
would have a few miles less to do on the final day.
Thankfully St Neot to Bodmin was mostly downhill or level
roads, and I was able to gingerly make my way as far as Lanivet in time to meet
Alice and her parents at about 7pm. It didn’t take long to strip the bike of
panniers and other luggage and the bike itself was soon strapped to the roof
while I rested and caught up with everyone on the return car journey to Truro,
which was certainly quicker than the alternative!
Showered, fed and watered too, it was soon time for an early
night, after we’d discussed the plans for the next days. My knee was already
feeling a bit better just for stopping when I did, and I was tempted to carry
on the following day, eager to get to Land’s End and also feeling a bit guilty
too for stopping when it got tough. It wasn’t how I’d imagined the penultimate
day going, but truth be told it wasn’t all bad either, at least this had
happened now, when there was help available, and not right at the beginning of
the trip, in remote Scotland! Alice and I agreed that the best thing for my
knee, but also for my enjoyment of the trip, would be to actually take a full
day off, rest, recuperate, and then face the final day feeling fresh and raring
to go…
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