Never Pay Attention To McDonald's Directions - 25th April 2011

Newburn to Matfen and back - Approx 25 miles

Easter Bank Holiday Monday, and we'd decided in the pub the previous Saturday to go up to Maften for a change. There's a cafe there, and they do the best scones or something. I'm not one to pass up a cafe, so it was agreed.
Jim's a closet road biker, but he promised to bring the mountain bike so we'd go at the same speed.
"As long as it's quiet roads" I said.

Monday brought some dry weather, not quite the blazing inferno it had been all weekend, so that was good. The bikes were loaded up into the back of Jim's van, and we drove along to Newburn, to the car park near the Big Lamp pub.

Captain Mainwaring ready for duty.

Soon we were rattling along the Wylam Waggon Way. Jim was on his "racing slicks", touring tyres, a bit thinner and a bit smoother. Basically faster. Depressingly faster than my big knobblys actually.
They've resurfaced most of this over the last year, which while better than the dirt track it was before, the tarmac isn't the best quality. Bump, bump, bump. Maybe I need some more padding as well as slick tyres.

Wylam was reached fairly quickly, and we left the Waggon Way there, and headed through the village, and then up Holeyn Hall Rd. 
"Up" being the right word. It's a bit of a climb. Young legs and a weight advantage were in my favour, but I don't like to get too far ahead of the old man, so I hung around for him. As things were to transpire, maybe I should have got a head start.
After a breather, Jim set off at a pace as it was bit flatter now, and crossed the bridge over the A69. It's a dual carriageway, it's the only way to cross it really. I was a bit slow off the mark, so when I got to the the roundabout at the top, no sign of Jim. I guessed a direction, went around a corner and no sign of him, so decided I'd taken the wrong route and went the other way.

Jim's up there somewhere. That hill up ahead looks steeper in real life.

I saw him vanishing off into the distance, just cresting a hill, so at least I was on the right road.
But you can't really pedal fast enough to catch a bike with fast tyres on.
I caught up with him eventually the other side of the Military Road, after he'd finally decided to stop, in fact he was facing towards me.
"Thought you'd had a puncture". Comedy genius.

Rape seed is evil. It stinks.

Well, we ambled along for a bit, or rather Jim ambled, and I pedalled along in much too high a gear, trying to keep up. Tough on the hills.
4 miles later and we arrived in Stamfordham, no stopping though. Jim was on a mission for scones. I was on a mission for more padding.

He did however stop a bit further up ahead when he spied a horse, and our resident Dr Doolittle couldn't resist. He'd seduced it with grass by the time I arrived.

Phwoaar.

It was a gentle slope uphill for another 3 miles or so that brought us into Matfen just after 3pm. And the promise of scones.
Promise that was to be sadly thrown into the cruel pit of despair.

*$#%! 3pm !!!!!

Bastards... missed it by minutes. We weren't the only ones. While we had a sit down a few people stopped by for scones.

Nice place for a Jelly Baby though

Jim's bike and those bloody tyres.

Well, I figured we'd head back the way we came, but no. Off we went out the other end of the village. Ian, our newly "bionic" cyclist chum had told Jim about this lovely route back, so I followed (again), and soon we came to the turn off.
But then Jim decided it wasn't the turn off and we carried on for another mile. Until we came to another road. The Military Road.
Oh well, I figured we'd be on it for a minute or so to the junction up ahead. Jim was already off at pace, so I tagged along. And then he just cycled past the junction and kept going.

We pulled in at the Robin Hood Inn, and I broke out the phone. GPS and Google Maps, very handy. Well, turn off's were ahead but the first was a bit dodgy for getting across the A69, so we carried on. Next one was at the top of Harlow Hill, a nasty steep little climb, but it would take us under the A69, so that was agreed on.
Jim had a lead on me, I was catching him on the hill though. I thought he'd wait at the top, but the traffic queued up behind seemed to distract him as he ignored the turn-off and careered off down the hill at breakneck pace.

Watching Jim ride off into the distance. No swearing. Deep breaths.

Not much choice but to ride on.
4 miles we did on the Military Road. On a Bank Holiday. Grrrrrr.
This riding lark is supposed to be good for my health you know.

Well, I eventually caught him up. He never saw the junction he was supposed to take. Maybe he needs some new specs for cycling, but we turned off at the next one (after consulting the gps and Google Maps again) and we ended up back at the roundabout where I'd taken a wrong turn earlier. Result.


We hurtled back down the hill to Wylam, and despite trailing in Jim's gravity and tyre assisted wake, I still got over 30mph. That was fun. Made up for the earlier slog.


And then back along the Waggon Way to Newburn and the van. Into a bloody headwind.
Despite all that, still came out with an average speed of 11.6mph. 
That explains why my legs are killing me.

Maybe I'll pick the route next weekend.

As I have no kml storage, here's the route. GPS didn't start until Wylam, so add 3 miles on at start. Click for big.