Not sure how much sleep I got last night. I’d pitched the tent between a campervan and a car, hoping I’d get some protection from the wind – not a chance in hell – I’d already used more pegs than usual when I pitched the tent – maybe I should have used the guys ropes as well but not convinced they would have made a lot of difference. Despite wind and lack of sleep I’d definitely like to come back to this campsite and I got lucky – a family of 4 had been there for the week including the arrival of Storm Floris – they had a number of broken tent poles due to the storm – the following day they reduced there large family sized tent from 3 sections to 2 sections, taking out the broken poles and putting the intact poles in the usable section of the tent – the following night the rain came in and they woke up in a pool of water – rescued by the campsite owner they were given duvets to use while their sleeping bags dried and they were still there to tell the tale and having fun, while most would have packed it in.

View from campsite in the morning – threatening clouds but no rain came

Back on the road again – beautiful swooping downs and hellishly hard ups and then came to a road block – a jack knifed lorry completely blocking the road!

I asked the driver if I could get past – he didn’t speak English – pointing to indicate going round, he just gave me a shake of his head. I’d just come down a hill and was definitely not keen to go back up it and then “Heathcliff” arrived – “He is dark-skinned gipsy in aspect, in dress and manners a gentleman: that is, as much a gentleman as many a country squire: rather slovenly, perhaps, yet not looking amiss with his negligence, because he has an erect and handsome figure; and rather morose.” – dark skin and black eyes and handsome but definitely not morose, despite having to help sort out a jack knifed lorry on the way to his farm and now having to help me get past too. He confirms that I can’t get past due to a large drainage ditch but he heads uphill to get some wood to form a bridge so that he can carry the bike over for me – he returns, not long after, carry a large piece of sleeper. However I have had an alternative idea – would it be easier to go under the lorry? “Heathcliff” goes backwards supporting the front of the bike, I’ve got the back of the bike,we are both crouched as low as we can and I’m glad I’ve got my helmet on – we have to tip the bike slightly to one side but we all make it through – don’t think we ticked any of the health and safety boxes at all but I’m on my way again after saying thank you to a still smiling “Heathcliff”.

Route under the lorry.

The last time I cycled in Yorkshire I swore I would never do it again and now I’m repeating these thoughts. I want to come back but with hiking boots next time.

Today I’ve got to be in Manchester before 4.15pm as I have a ticket for The Lowry exhibition, I’ve also been offered a bed through the cycling “Warm Showers” website that night but I’m going hell of a slow and make the decision to cycle to Kendal and take the train from there to Manchester. Getting a ticket for me is easy but it’s too late notice to book Phil on but we are in luck as there are no other bikes on board and also the entrance of the train is level with the platform which makes it really easy to push Phil on (take note Scotrail). 90 minutes later I’m in Manchester and cycling along the canal tow path, listening to the tunes from the “party” canal boats, on my way to The Lowry Gallery and special 360° exhibition – very pleased that I’ve been able to see this and it was the right decision to take the train today.

Now cycling back along the tow bath and onto Manchester city centre – it’s only 6.30 but it’s already busy with folks going out for the night and I’m glad to make it the few miles south of the city to Alix’s who has kindly offered to put me up for the night.