It’s a good thing that we have an easier than usual ride to Hexham today generally following the Tyne upriver on Route 72, the Hadrian Wall Cycle Route, the whole way. Good because even though the riding should be easy we have 25 miles to cover and an uncertain weather window to thread it through. We started tracking the weather forecast at both ends of the ride last night, and it looks like with luck we might get four dry hours. With luck.
It’s still raining when we get up this morning, and the brick street below our window looks wet and slick. And the forecast looks more questionable, and different every time we look. The train schedule gets consulted, and armed with the knowledge that trains depart nearly every half hour all day long we decide to just sit and wait as long as we can, knowing that we have a backup plan to avoid the horror of riding in a bit of rain.
Waiting works. By around ten the forecast looks more promising - the rain producing formation looks like it’s shifted just far enough north that it looks like we’ll be fine. We’re out twenty minutes later, coasting down to the waterfront. We’re following Rachael’s rain day rules, meaning that we’re not stopping. And I don’t, except once or twice along the river (and the first time I do, a trumpish “You’re fired” is muttered in my direction as she passes by and speeds on ahead.
Leaving Newcastle, enjoying the break in the weather.
I stopped here because I was intrigued by the eroded structure in the river - remains of a trestle perhaps. Once I stopped though I noted all of the bird tracks in the mud flats. The tide is way out this morning.
About ten miles into the ride we come across the only real obstacle for the day - a deep, wide puddle that spans the whole path. At first it looked like something we’d have to take our shoes off for and walk through barefoot, but there is just enough high ground on one side to barely squeeze by. The bikes go in the water though, and my heart stops for a minute when my rear tire slips off the edge of an unseen submerged curb. I don’t like the scraping sound I hear and am fearful I’d broken another derailleur because there’s so little clearance between it and the ground on my bike. Its on my mind the way whole time I’m pushing my bike across and then going back for Rachael’s, and I’m thinking it’s a good thing that most of the ride is flat and hoping there’s a bike store in Hexham in case I need a repair.
Here at least is a spot I felt I could break out the camera for, since we’re stopped anyway to figure out how to get around this lake.
There was just barely enough margin to walk past on one edge as long as you push the bike through the water. I pushed mine through first and then leaned it against the only vertical surface I could find while I went back for Rachael’s.
The derailleur’s fine fortunately, to our great relief. We’ve only gone another half mile though when the most important concern of the day surfaces: Rachael’s got a flat rear tire, our first tire incident since biking into Trujillo to meet up with Suzanne and Janos almost exactly two months ago.
It’s not completely flat though - there’s still between 5 and 10 psi being held in it, so it’s worth trying to pump it up and hope that it will hold far enough that we can limp the last 15 miles to Hexham, stopping intermittently for another refill.
And it does hold! I’m counting down the miles as we go, calculating how often it will need refilling. When we’ve gone four miles I check in to see how she’s doing, and she’s still ridin’ high (hearing in my head Ella Fitzgeralds rendition of the Cole Porter song), so we keep going. Four more miles, and she’s still fine; and miracle of miracles, we make it all the way to Hexham without stopping again. Its flattish again, probably under 20 psi, but now it’s just a spare time project to fit in somewhere during our three day stay here.
We mostly just ride through the rest of the way of course, hoping to put in as many miles as possible before pumping up the tire again. Still, I can afford one or two shots - she’s pretty easy to catch up to at the moment.
We’re feeling quite upbeat when we arrive in Hexham - happy to arrive dry, happy the tire held, happy to have an excellent meal to sit down to when we wait for our room to come free. And there’s more to feel elated over today that’s going on in the background - President Biden finally announced yesterday afternoon that he’s withdrawing from the campaign. I think it’s been three straight weeks that I’ve started every day by checking in on the news websites to see if anything decisive has happened yet to bring a close to this interminable drama. It’s really been haunting me ever since his disastrous debate performance, and this morning feels like the first time I’ve been able to breathe normally since then. Hope springs eternal, but I was starting to lose it.
Our home in Hexham. A lovely, comfortable space. For once I thought to take a photo before we trashed it.
The rains never did come. It remained dry but overcast for the rest of the day, and the coming days look bright as well. With the likelihood that I’ll be able to get out on the bike on both of our layover days I decide this afternoon is the best time to look at the town itself. Its a very attractive place, one of the kind we like best - not too large, not too small, just right.
Polly LowApparently, it's because if they'd knocked it down Hexham would have been left without a parish church (or at least, that's what the locals managed to persuade Cromwell's men of...) Reply to this comment 1 month ago
