After the horrendous end to Day 3, we had to reevaluate. Neither of us could contemplate the 116 miles to Lancaster today. Malcolm decided to have the day off and I decided to have the morning off and cycle the 47 miles to Chester in the afternoon to the end of Watling Street.
We also needed a new way to use Komoot. We have decided on the strategy of breaking down our days into small distances and just asking her to reach each of those milestones. She (we call her she but Malcolm’s Komoot speaks in a clipped male voice; mine in a slightly uptight female voice) still takes us on unnecessary diversions.
I hardly saw anything of Shrewsbury. Almost immediately I was heading out of it and into lots of small hills and rain.
I sheltered under an oak by the side of the road, hoping it was a shower… but it lasted longer than a shower, so I had the faff of dressing for rain and cycled on. Martyn and Malcolm soon passed me in the car – I could not hear what Malcolm called out to me but imagine it was inspirational.
Komoot continued to lead me onto the smallest roads with absolutely no traffic, although their road surfaces were broken, gravelly and pot-holed. Fuelling up, I then decided to make some tracks, ignore Komoot (who at times, seemed to turn off my phone screen, as if in a tantrum) and take a main road all the way to the beautiful Ellesmere.
I only received a text from Malcolm after I was through Ellesmere to say that he and Martyn were having a coffee but I must have passed within about thirty feet of them and neither group saw each other.
I then set Komoot the goal to take me to Wrexham and passed into North Wales. It seems extraordinary that I was only on the south coast just over three days ago and now I was in north Wales… and it’s not even as if my route has been direct. We’ve been pinballing across the country.
The hills kept coming but it’s not as if hills in Wales came as a surprise to me and then I was treated to a glorious downhill into a stunning valley that was so lush and verdant.
I did a piece to camera about coming to the end of Watling Street and its history. I haven’t looked back through the footage yet and am quite prepared to believe it was very poor because I was on my own and, after day 3, feeling slightly hazy or fuzzy, then I continued onto Wrexham.
I cycled passed Wrexham Football Club made famous recently by Rob McElhenney and Ryan Reynolds, ignoring Kamoot and headed for the main road to Chester – it was a fast, two-laned monster. I obeyed Komoot and she led me along cycle paths through estates and out onto a long back road to Chester. I passed through Gresford, made famous because of the mining disaster, although it must be hard to live in a town just associated with a tragedy. That said, the Eisteddfod was going to be held nearby, so that and a bit of bunting gave the place a celebratory feel.
The long road had a glorious two-mile descent and then some ropey surfaces to the side of the road. I then had to negotiate a beast o a main road to reach the Holiday Inn south of Chester, where Martyn and Malcolm weren’t waiting for me… They were inside having a drink. I had made unexpectedly good time.
And with that, we had reached the end of our time on Watling Street.
We had intended to then cycle on to Lancaster but yesterday’s exertions had scuppered that thought and Martyn drove us there under lowering clouds and I largely slept.
Quite rightly, Martyn is very worried about us cycling in Storm Floris. He also came up with an alternative safer plan. There aren’t any known Roman roads in the Lake District but I want the plan to remain as much the same as ever, especially with us moving onto the Stanegate on Tuesday. I am not being complacent about how bad this storm might be and, if it starts getting dangerous, I will bail out of today’s part of the challenge. The choice for me to cycle this route today, Monday, is my own and I want it known that Martyn did try to dissuade me from it for all the right reasons. Instead of the suicide that would have been Shap Pass, I have chosen lower routes.
I will be wet within minutes, if not seconds of setting off and I will be riding cautiously today. If it starts getting dangerous, I will not continue.
Rogues of the Roman Roads 