The Leeds Liverpool canal brings our canal count up to six, but this is the final towpath we will use. England eventually runs out of canal. It brings us smoothly into Wigan (Ian at the campsite insisted it was paved all the way into the town; I was skeptical, but it actually is), which is the domain of our newest rider, Andy, who joined us at the campsite last night and will ride with us for the next couple of days. He’s from Westhoughton so he knows the best routes and the best bakeries (and even the way to Wigan Pier).

I notice Andy’s bike straight away: it’s an Oxford Bike Works bicycle, the same as Tim rode. These are custom-built bikes, carefully developed for each individual according to their size, need and preference. It was Tim who inspired Andy to make the long journey down to Oxford to get his bike built there.
Tim was always so proud of his bike, which was absolutely perfect for his 6’4” frame when off-the-peg bikes just wouldn’t do. I spoke to Richard at Oxford Bike Works just before we headed off on the trip, who said that many people pass through his shop but Tim was one of the ones who left a mark.

The stretch to Preston I’ve cycled before on another ride, and couldn’t recommend it enough: it winds through the Cuerden Valley Park alongside ponds and under tree cover, then picks up the disused railway line from Bamburgh Bridge to Preston, crossing the river Ribble on the impressive old railway bridge. It’s one of three rail crossings that once crossed the water, of which just one remains.

Once in Preston we head for the bike shop, again – this time it’s my wheel that’s popped a spoke, and with a running total of three punctures, Lorenzo has decided to upgrade his tyres. Once again the mechanic slots us in even though he’s under-staffed and has a long line of bikes that need attention. Thank you, Preston Cycles!
North of Preston there aren’t many options for cycle routes, and unbelievably Google pushes you towards the busy A6, by virtue of a painted line on the road that means ‘cycle path’. We’re forced onto it for a few miles until we can turn off for Catterall and Garstang, then we choose a quieter A road that sweeps into Lancaster on a parallel route. A few miles shy of the city we join the Lune coastal path, which takes us alongside the river completely free of traffic. The river banks are exposed at low tide, and there’s the occasional boat resting on its side, along with flocks of gulls and wading birds that scavenge the mud. I’ve never cycled this way, despite having ridden between Preston and Lancaster many times, even once on my coastal cycle – you’d think the Lune coast path would be central to that. But every ride involves a choice, and for one reason or another, those previous occasions resulted in something different. That’s the beauty of cycle touring, one that Tim and I talked about many times: you can go again and again to the same place, and still discover something new.

Andy has ridden this route before, so leads us into the city, underneath the rail bridge and onto the cable-stayed Millennium Bridge (“I’m obsessed with this bridge!”) with the copper-domed Ashton Memorial on the hill.
Then we’re onto the cycle route to Morecambe and our campsite. We ride into Morecambe after pitching the tents, not wanting to miss out on dinner and a pint by the bay. It’s a special place, and looks magical tonight, with the tide out leaving silver trails across the vast saucer of sand. There’s the Midland Hotel, built to host the workers from the railway, and there’s the old station building, abandoned in favour of a cheaper location a few hundred metres inland. The old station building now hosts a pub: perfect for our evening meal as the sun sets over the bay.

Stats for the day: 100km riding, 551 metres climbing (Lorenzo and/or Mark can’t resist riding a few extra km if the mile-ometre is getting close to 100)
Accommodation: Sunnyside camping. Lovely campsite – not surprising for around here, given that we passed at least another 10 campsites and holiday parks on the way to the bay!
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