What it’s like to ride from Land’s End to John O’Groats
Laura Laker saddled up for a 980-mile cycle journey across Britain
It was 2am and the tents were blowing away. Among the identical nylon pods that lurched and shifted in the gale-force blasts, one or two of them, presumably unoccupied, were hanging on by a peg. Escapees wobbled like oversized jellies against the mobile shower blocks and in the long grass by the hedgerow. Returning from the toilet that blustery night, I saw one tent rolling over the tops of sleeping cyclists, cartwheeling along the row to join the others.
Their occupants hadn’t had a much better day. In the 119 miles we cycled that day, we discovered there’s a unique cruelty in riding uphill into a 45mph headwind. Some of the lighter riders were blown off their bikes entirely. It was the toughest ride of my life, and it came after seven consecutive 100-odd mile days of riding.
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