Day 12: Patterdale to Kirkpatrick-Fleming

Ullswater looks magical in the morning haze. We start early, before the mist entirely lifts, but soon the sun burns through to bring another scorching day. Before we started the ride, someone asked what weather I would prefer: relentless sunshine or relentless rain. The answer has to be relentless sunshine, but only just. Spending all day under a burning sun is hard work and uncomfortable. It’s skin-burn, energy-sapping weather. There’s a point in the afternoons when even the breeze is hot. But at least sunshine makes you happy. Rain is fine, but heavy rain day after day gets miserable pretty quickly, especially if it means there’s no chance to dry out the tents. We have been unbelievably lucky on this trip. Even in the Lake District, the sun won’t stop shining.

Partway round the lake we’re joined by Stephen who will spend the next 30 or so miles with us, before peeling off to join the Jens Voigt crew. I had heard that former pro cyclist Jens was also riding LEJOG but didn’t think much of it. But his much faster ride is catching up with us – he’s going over Kirkstone today, and will be stopping in Carlisle later, and riding almost our exact route tomorrow. He’s invited anyone and everyone to join him, so local club riders like Stephen are jumping on the Jens train each day. Perhaps we can meet up.

A quick descent brings us into Penrith where we’re in need of a bike shop, again – Mark has popped another spoke so has decided it’s time for a new wheel. Arragon’s Cycles is completely booked up but has made space for him. While we wait, we have breakfast, after which we say goodbye to Andy and welcome a new rider: Jeff, from Northumberland. The accents of our team members is steadily changing northwards. Again, it’s a pleasure to meet new people and hear more stories of why they have joined this tribute ride to Tim. Jeff is similar to most: never met him, but found inspiration in his adventures and felt that Tim touched his life in a positive way.

The afternoon brings yet more heat, and on the road to Carlisle we see an ice cream van pull out of a side road ahead. It’s definitely ice cream weather; shame we’ve just missed it. But the van stops at a junction, and hesitates at the give way line just long enough for me to put a sprint on. I catch up, and gesture through the window, and he pulls over in the lane opposite, and we have our own private ice cream service. He’s just started his round and this is the perfect start for him and us.

In Carlisle we welcome Ivan, a friend of Lorenzo, and roll out of Carlisle into the flood plains of the Solway Firth, the Lake District hills disappearing into mist behind and the mountains of Dumfries and Galloway appearing blue across the water. Soon after comes the much-anticipated sign: welcome to Scotland. 

It’s always momentous crossing a border – even the county signs have given us cause for celebration as we steadily make progress northwards. But this is more special. Perhaps it’s because we’ve arrived in another country just by riding our bikes, which feels slightly audacious. Perhaps it’s excitement at having somewhere new to explore, with different landscapes and cultures. Perhaps it’s just fun to see which random river the Kings and Queens of the past chose to separate these two nations. Whatever it is, it’s great to be here. We are in Scotland! 

It’s a short ride onwards to our campsite, past the slightly bizarre spectacle of marriage at Gretna Green, to the site of Bruce’s Cave where we set our circle of tents as a steam train huffs past.

Stats for the day: 85km riding, 657m climbing

Accommodation: Bruce’s Cave campsite. Lovely friendly reception, great services, and a nice peaceful location. A bit overzealous on the admin! (you must register your details in advance) but one of our better campsites, and well-priced.