Sometimes days are even better than perfect. This was that kind of day. It started and ended with a rainbow and everything in between was even better. We are now all feeling tickety boo!

Beginning of the Day at the Crask Inn

End of the Ride at John O'Groats

The ride was 82 miles past stunning lochs, past historic sites with remnants of the Clearances then along the Northern Coast of Scotland ending at John O'Groats. The long departed John O'Groat had a brilliant day of work today as he mentally reeled in cyclists to the end of Great Britain's epic cycling ride. The first sign for John O'Groats at 54 miles gets the heart pumping, endorphins screaming and an overwhelming feeling of anticipation and satisfaction. Those feelings only intensify as the distance counts down to a point so close I screamed “This cake is baked.” I knew it was over. John the Second thought the expression quaint and I thought he was going to echo with the English equivalent of something like “The porridge is cooked.” But no, he yelled “We nailed this doggie to the floor” again revealing a certain harshness to the British character that surfaces in surprising ways like the Cat Eyes Removed sign. If there were still Kodak film, no doubt I would be lugging a large bag full of Kodachrome 100 canisters with me to develop. The scenery today was absolutely stunning. I am going to let the pictures and captions tell the story.

We were sent off by these 12 fine fellow who said We be looking for some brown troot. I hesitated to correct these fine anglers by telling them it was actually pronounced trout.

I then had everyone put their hands together and yell a typical American 1-2-3 John O'Groats and throw hands to the sky. They all thought this custom a bit weird, but seemed to like it and I think it developed a bit of camaraderie for the final ride.

Site of one of the houses from the sad story of the Clearances. The widow occupying this house was given 30 minutes to vacate the house before it was burned to the ground. It is too complex to explain the Clearsnces in detail, but a google search should reveal the horrifically sad details.

Prefabricated churches used by missionaries all over the world

Amazing cycling on the North Coast of Scotland

John the First was on a mission today–he literally flew over the route on his bike. While there is no mandatory drug testing on this tour, I strongly believe that maybe some HGH was being ingested for the last day. He kept taking swigs from a listerine bottle, but never swished nor spit. I am suspicious. The boy rocked it.

Lots of signs today but space is growing short so I only include the one below which does not seem to need a caption.

And I can't resist one more collage of pictures to help my Yank friends understand what pudding is.

Black Pudding, Bread and Butter Pudding and Yorkshire Pudding

So LEJOG met the epic reputation that preceded it. 1008 miles averaging 72 miles a day. 33000 calories expended and a lot more than that ingested but only about 10 calories in haggis. 64,000 feet in climbing. Fourteen riding days and about 30 minutes of light rain and a couple of afternoons of cloud cover. What can I say? I have studied the weather here for 14 riding days and a few extra off the bike and it is pretty darn nice.

Well the well worn, little washed cycling clothes are now in ziplock bags quarantined from the rest of my clothes. The bags contain sheets of fabric softener hoping to minimize the surprise when they are unsealed when I return home next week.

Tx to all my old Brits and my new Brits. How lucky to have my old Brits advise on the preparation and cheer on from the sidelines wanting to share their culture as I shared mine across the US. How lucky to have my new Brits share their country real time with me. You all truly have a remarkably beautiful country with wonderful people. Just as the US across country bike ride impresses with its vastness and its emptiness, the UK impresses with its mile by mile kaleidoscope of somethingness–roundabouts, castles here and Druid circles there, stone bridges and stone barns, omnipresent heather and rose bay willow herb, warm ales and the Lejog ale trail, sheep, hills, cows, hills, horses and hills. I now love alcoholic cider–both apple and pear; I now understand why Brits drink warm ale. There is an explosion of novelty for a Yank touring the UK. Yes, some things are quirky from a Yank's standpoint and some things I still don't understand (switched sockets, what is pudding (congealed blood and ice cream just can't be in the same category), two switch electric showers and after dinner food confessions to pay the bill), but I am sure they have a reason and explanation that escapes me. Well, I have polled my new Brits and have made resolutions to spend the next six months watching Faulty Towers, Black Adder, Mrs. Brown's Boys and Royle Family so that next time I can share the warmth and regard that you clearly show for these shows. They promised to watch Ferris Bueller's Day Off and Breaking Bad. And for any of you looking to cycle across the US, here are my thoughts from that journey. http://bricksusko.wordpress.com/2013/05/02/prologue/. How do you say it? Give it a go?

Well, it's over. As the American cowboy Roy Rogers and cowgirl Dale Evans would sing “Happy Trails to you until we meet again…” Send me a link to the blog of your next adventure so we can keep in touch. Cheers!

“If you think you can or think you can’t, you’re right.” Henry Ford

Says it all

Yesterday was a significant day in Scotland: Scotland voted to remain part of the United Kingdom and the Royal and Ancient Golf Club of St. Andrews voted affirmatively to admit women members. I was denied one historic 1776 moment here (although I for some strange reason very very happy with the result) but was present for the other.

Today's ride was 71 miles with 3200 feet of climbing. It started over the bridge spanning the Beauly Firth, continued along the firth for several miles then climbed to pass several Lochs or North Sea inlets and then into absolutely desolate plains. The headwinds are starting to pick up. People and domestic animals are few and far between. One more day. Getting close.

For Sale Notice at Local Convenience Store

Salmon Swimming Upstream. Could Not Get Any to Jump on Cue

Rowan Tree (Mountain Ash)

Inn Where we stored our bikes. A safe haven for travelers. No room at the Inn, yet six tents pitched in the front yard. We took the van back to our hotel 10 miles away. Great Scottish pub complete with peat fire burning.

Here is a great description of yesterday's climb up Cock Hill, apparently known as the Lecht, Cock Bridge, one of Britain's top 10 toughest cycle climbs. http://www.theguardian.com/travel/2012/jul/20/britains-top-10-toughest-cycle-climbs. Guide Peter said he kinda underplayed it in advance because it scares people and weighs on their mind and spoils the ride before. Look the worst that can happen is you walk a bit.

I have spent almost all of the last three days riding with John the Second. John is a former antitrust regulator and now works for an independent agency monitoring the British National Health Service. He has been amazingly helpful at leading me through the roundabouts of Inverness, identifying plants and trees, translating signs and imparting tidbits of British culture. He also is invariably patient with my incessant stops to take photos.

Well, I have had two meals at Italian restaurants in Great Britain and they both have been superb, much to my surprise. My Brits are equally surprised that I am surprised since it is apparently common knowledge here that there were a large number of Italian POWs after WWII who decided to stay around. The Italian food has been magnifico.

I spent a good portion of the time at dinner at the Italian restaurant last night trying to appropriately pronounce our today's dinner plans: “pub grub” which I can tell you here is just not pronounced pub grub. Sounds kinda like poob groob when said by Guide Peter who is a Geordie (or as one B&B lady called him that “Little Geordie”), but I am working on it. A Geordie is a bloke from around Newcastle (or the broader Tyneside area) and they talk like this. http://www.chroniclelive.co.uk/news/north-east-news/geordie-sayings-top-56-things-6466922. I am not sure anyone knows for sure why they are called Geordies, but here is the best that I could find. Everyday at tea stop and lunch, the front radio of the van is usually blaring a British drama to entertain Guide Peter as he waits for the riders to come in. The radio drama is a genre that disappeared from the US about 60 years ago.

“If you think you can or think you can’t, you’re right.” Henry Ford

Today's ride was a challenge. It was only 74 miles but 5500 feet of climbing pretty much all concentrated in the first 35 miles. There were several climbs with 18 degree gradients but the kicker was right after Cock's Bridge where the road abruptly turned upward at a 20 degree slope and continued for a mile varying between 16 degrees and 20 degrees with an occasional respite at 12. As we climbed we headed into dense fog and had no idea what was ahead. Finally, after several “dig a little deeper when you can't dig no more” moments, the road flattened with what looked like a preciptous drop into the clouds off road on our left, then we descended slightly with great joy and then back into the fog for another quarter mile of the unknown at 18 degrees up. It was one tough climb and I now know that 20 degrees is pretty much the top end of my pay grade; any steeper and I would have had to walk. I also suggest if you ever do this tour and are not Adonis, a triple chain ring (gasp, say the dedicated cool kid roadies) rather than a compact will make you a much happier person. I am into happy.

Does this sign confuse you? Maybe the anglers don't fish

The coolest thing I saw today was an old what we would call AAA call boxes, pictured below. Apparently, the AA here would issue keys to members who could open the box to call for emergency aid. A man on a motorcycle with a sidecar carrying his tools would then appear to remedy the situation.

Some other pictures of the day.

Bus Alomost Too Flat for Single Lane Arched Bridge

We officially arrived in Whiskey Country

No Room on the Bike

OK, I took the challenge offered up by many of my Yank colleagues and ignored the warnings of the others and bummed a small teaspoon of haggis off John the First's plate. Ummm, to me, a little like liver. John the First was disappointed since he usually has whiskey over his haggis (a practice I now totally totally understand) and we must have eaten at the only establishment in Scotland that serves alcohol but not whiskey. Pictured below is an appetizer portion of the haggis, neeps (turnips) and tatties.

Appetizer Portion of Haggis, Neeps and Tatties

Speaking of food, no one has been able to explain to me why the Brits have what is called pudding for dessert (which can be ice cream and still called “pud”), then have black pudding for breakfast (basically congealed blood) and Yorkshire pudding for part of a main course. If there is a common defining feature to foods under the umbrella of pudding, I have not discovered it. Last night, I had the bread and butter pudding for “pud.”

Bread and butter pudding

The battle with the B&B shower continued tonight. I really do love the electric showers (really) which we just do not have in the US. I pushed the button and nothing. Again and again. I was too embarrassed to call the the front desk so I fretted for about 30 minutes and discovered that like the dental technician taking x-rays you have to go into another room to turn the shower on and then back into the room to really turn it on. I just love it. Two switches and we have none. Very clever!

Push Button Shower

The Other Room Switch

Only two more riding days to John O'Groats.

“If you think you can or think you can’t, you’re right.” Henry Ford

A magical 70 mile ride with a Christmas tree elevation profile and elevation gain of 4350 feet, with almost all the climbing in the first 42 miles. The first 42 miles went from a gradual ascent to an all out climb that tested everyone's lowest gear, heart rate, glycogen capacity and mental stamina for a long long time. The mantra I learned across the US for these kind of days is that a calmness comes from just accepting that you can't make the sun shine, the rain stop, the road flat or the wind come from your back–you are lucky to be here so get over it. See below.

A friend of mine just returned from a visit to Scotland and sent me the picture below. She said the females wear the horns in Scotland and the best was yet to come. She was right, the scenery today was spectacular. First, the photo that she sent. This we did not see.

The Scottish sun came out at 9 am and the skies were blue. I changed from clear to shaded lenses and stowed my jacket in the van. It was wonderfully bright with long morning shadows cast in the fields.

Forty five minutes later I regretted the decision as the sun decided to quit for the day, leaving us with grey cloud cover the rest of the ride and a drizzle of rain over the last three miles. But the overcast skies lent a haunting beauty to a remarkable wind blown ride through Cairngorms National Park. Entire mountain sides were covered with muted pink/purple/red heather plants and dotted with sheep. Majestic mountains except for the pedal up. The biking again was spectacular. The scenery just becomes more intense when you are part of it and exposed to the elements: cool wind in the face, sweat building inside a jacket, legs burning and vistas you don't want to let go of.

Guard at the Queen Mum's Summer Place--Balmoral Castle

Not Balmoral Castle

Ballater

Today's signs

In the interest of balanced political coverage, he is the standard No sign for tomorrow's vote.

Help me, Brits, I don't understand

There is a charming quaintness to staying in English B&B's, which we do from time to time, including last night. I am getting used to the night time groping in the dark to find the bathroom light switch, a task that invariably ends with my nose finding the pull cord. I like turning on my electric shower with a push button, but have not mastered the heat-cold, economy-full combination of settings yet. I have yet to be able to turn on a heated towell bar with its unintelligible markings convincing me that they are antique decorations. The covers are so thick they weigh you down at night and give some idea that it must get really cold here at some time.

Cheers.

“If you think you can or think you can’t, you’re right.” Henry Ford

Errata: I was informed by Irish Jerry that, in fact, I did not strike a yoga tree pose at the Scottish border. It was clearly a Highland Fling. Tx for the correction.

This was a great day to ride with two of my US cross country Brits, Doc Ollie and Tony Z. The total ride was 71 miles from Peebles to Perth through Edinburgh. They accompanied me the first 35 miles from Peebles to the Kingdom of Firth, one half way across the Forth Suspension Bridge which is next to the spectacular Scottish landmark, the Forth Railway Bridge.

Tony and Doc Ollie just completed Skedaddle's 1000 mile ride across France. All I know about snooker, darts and British cremation practices I owe to Tony Z, an ex-hedge fund manager, who rode with me from Champaign, Illinois to Boston. I greatly appreciate his taking the train up from London for the day's ride. Doc Ollie is from Edinburgh and was a great tour guide today. He is head of the Scottish Cycling Touring Council, a tireless advocate for bicycle safety, a huge promoter of a program to teach every 4 year old in Glasgow to cycle, frequent BBC commentator and also a damn fine orthopedic surgeon and guy. My CV for him does not do him justice. Much indebted to Doc Ollie. Tx guys! And Tx to Doc Ollie's daughter, Alex, for driving him down and joining us for dinner last night.

Doc Ollie (L) and Tony Z (R) provided literal and figurative support today.

Entering the Kingdom of Fife

Breakfast here continues to be surreal for a grind it out endurance bike trip. Some samples from this morning are pictured below. I am a bit like the family dog getting small pieces of everyone's dish to maximize my experience of local cuisine. Today, the “scraps” included “cullen skink” (a potato and haddock soup) at lunch and oak smoked haddock at breakfast; I passed on the haggis and on a second chance at the black pudding.

Tontine Hotel Cappucino

Oak Smoked Haddock with Poached Egg

Black Pudding and Haggis

The Forth Railway Bridge is incredibly impressive. It is over 100 years old and was recently coated in plastic to reduce the sysiphian task of re-painting it. “The company used a method of blasting the old layers of paint which enabled the steel to be repaired. Zinc-based primer of 35 microns was used to prevent corrosion and 400 microns of glass flake epoxy intermediate coating was used to act as a barrier, after which 35 microns of polyurethane gloss top coat was used to provide the finishing touches.” The pictures do not do it justice.

Other scenes from the day.

Bridge into Peebles

Lawn Bowling

Forth Suspension Bridge

Town of Perth

Typical Edinburgh Street

Greyfriars Bobby was a Skye Terrier who became known in 19th-century Edinburgh for supposedl spending 14 years guarding the grave of his owner until he died himself on 14 January 1872. Good luck to rub his nose.

Vote Yes For Scottish independence literally shouting from the mountaintop

Hometowns of British Gold Medal Wiiners at the London 2012 Olympics get golden mailboxes

“If you think you can or think you can’t, you’re right.” Henry Ford

A sweet ride of 79 miles with 4000 feet of climbing as we entered Scotland. The superlatives and hyperbole fail me in describing the scenery. The cycling was amazing–quiet roads, with the few drivers encountered quite considerate.

Well, I now have a sample of 11 days in England and it did not rain at all. A little mist, but nothing a self-respecting meteorologist would call rain. I think I can now say with a 95 percent confidence level that it does not rain in England. With one day experience in Scotland, I can confirm it does rain here.

On the way to Scotland, a tractor tried to pass me. For some reason, the immature surfaced, I turned my head and glanced up at the driver and thought game on, I stood tall in the saddle and just booked it averaging between 15 and 19 MPH on a relatively flat but undulating road. On the hills, the tractor closed ground and on the flats the tractor receded in my rear view mirror. After about three miles, the tractor quit. Losing to a horse is one thing, but losing to a tractor is quite another.

The first tea stop was at the Welcome to Scotland sign, with my cross country tree pose brought out of retirement.

I stopped in a little town where what I would call bocce courts were being prepared for the day's play and talked with one of the locals about the courts and the game that was played. He told me the name about five times but I never quite got it. I asked how I should vote on the referendum and he laughed and said “as you please” with enough experience in his eyes telling him that events either way will not be as cataclysmic as being portrayed. A very kind and friendly man. I saw some YES and some NO signs and some Union Jack Flags and some Scottish flags, but so far not enough external signs of hysteria to rival even a town council election in the US. I am sure there is great turmoil yet to be seen.

Lunch was at a Tibetan tea room part of a Buddhist Temple. After trying a taste of John the First's Black Pudding at breakfast as well as slathering HP Brown Sauce on the rest of my breakfast, I followed Irish Jerry's selection at lunch with potato and leak soup coupled with an onion and cheese sandwich on white bread chased down by ginger beer. Don't despair King Geoffrey, I am keeping my two pint a day promise since there has not been anything remotely resembling a Dairy Queen on the entire trip. The temple was quite impressive.

Bits of cheese, scallions and sweet corn were mixed in a sour cream type sauce

The scenery below speaks for itself. Enjoy. Having dinner tonight with two of my US cross country ride mates. Greatly looking forward to reconnecting.

Big Logging Area

“If you think you can or think you can’t, you’re right.” Henry Ford

An awesome 58 mile ride through the Yorkshire Dales National Park with a lot of chugging up 4900 feet of elevation gain. Alas, my Garmin is not on speaking terms with my iPhone today so no ride map. I hope they make up tomorrow.

For the most part, with are each riding alone since it is hard with a group of 5 to match up with someone whose riding style is the same. On an endurance ride, you really do have to ride your own ride.

Nevertheless, I rode a fair amount today with Guide Peter, a wonderful thing to be sure since this is his home cycling “hood.” He pointed out everything from the bridge that Harry Potter flew under in his magic car that took him to Hogwarts to an ancient Druid Circle. He would continually point to distant mountains and announce peak names: Ding and Dong (the two bells) and Little Cockup and Big Cockup. At other times, he would point out mountains (I guess they are called Fells here) and would ask me to guess what that looks like. I frequently avoided this Rorschach test as the first thing that usually came to mind would have been embarrassing to blurt out. The correct answers always turned out to be things like cow and calf. The greens today were off the color wheel in vibrance. I believe if I put a green fluorescent biking jacket in the middle of many of these fields it would take days of effort to find.

The weather today was a tad cooler, enough that I actually wore a jacket. Imagine! I also saw hearsay evidence that it could rain in this country when the road turned wet for about a half a mile. I assume that was from natural causes that occurred prior to my arrival, but I have yet to feel a raindrop. One more day and I am through England high and dry–only need to make it 30 miles to the Scottish border.

The other day in Nantwich, one of those life events occurred. Two young bicyclists, built like human greyhounds, pulled next to me at a stop light. We exchanged pleasantries. They said they were just returning mid-morning from a 100 mile ride to the Welsh border and back. They asked were I was headed and I answered: “John O'Groats.” Greyhound #1 was clearly impressed and said “Awesome, mate.” He then proceeded to slap me heartily several times on my back. He turned to Greyhound #2 and said “The old guy is cycling to John O'Groats.” And the scene of auditory praise and backslapping repeated. I think I left the encounter quite uplifted–I think but I have some doubts.

We had tea stop today at a little village named Orton–home of a chocolate “factory” and a church and a few houses. Our tea was accompanied by a piano and a choir of about 5 singing at the local church next to our van. It was quite delightful and reminded me it was Sunday–days of the week have no meaning on a multi-week bike tour.

Well, tomorrow, is Scotland. The midge report looks good. Enjoy the photos and read the captions for some detail.

Harry Potter Bridge

I think this is Calf and Cow but who knows

Greens off the color wheel

The Stocks in Orton. Punishing ride today.

Why is this goofy picture here? Look closely and you will see how natural fences are built. A sapling is cut and bent horizontally and the branches sprout vertically.

Cairn

Those crosses are functional. Rods run through the building. During construction, the rods are heated, the crosses attached and the rods contract when cool to pull the building tight.

Farmer making all us husbands look bad. He planted the whole side of the mountain as a heart shaped forest to honor his wife.

Scotch eggs

How we don't get lost on the trip. You just follow the purple line. It is incredibly accurate but does leave a little guessing from time to time. With the number of turns, it would be difficult to do,this trip with cue sheets.

Part of Druid Circle

Druid Circle

Grass airfield. Plane on left.

I am not a dancer kind of guy. This town scares me!

Scottish Midge Report

“If you think you can or think you can’t, you’re right.” Henry Ford

68 miles with 6300 feet of climbing and every single slow, granny gear turn of the crank was worth it. Stunning views, quiet country lane riding with limited traffic and horses, hills, sheep, hills, cows, hills, stone walls and hills. We were riding the Yorkshire Dales today, the location of the James Herriot books. If you like sheep and stone walls, this was your day. I counted enough sheep today to put me to sleep for life. The Brits strongly suggested that I get the lamb chops for dinner preceded by bubble and squeak as an appetizer–which I did. I am now feeling guilty as I review the pictures of the day, but I suppose if you want fresh lamb this would be a good place to start.

Train trestle

The entire of Great Britain is walkable by public footpaths. John the First walked LEJOG on these paths. A long walk to be sure.

Guide Peter helps form a mutual back rest at lunch stop. Get asked almost every day about the cycle mirror. Almost no one uses helmet type mirrors or rear blinkers.

There appears to be contradictory stories of how this rock got here. Either a glacier brought it down from Scotland or some mythical creature threw it here from Ireland. Given how nice the rock is and the Scottish independence vote, I think the area should stick to the mythical creature story.

Devil's Bridge in Kirby Lonsdale

Ruskin's View: Described by John Ruskin as one of the loveliest views in England therefore the world. Later painted by Turner in 1822.

Signs are one of the highlights of any bike trip.

I alone got the Valentine's suite again (Not going to take the key with me cycling). No fumbling around trying to find this key.

“If you think you can or think you can’t, you’re right.” Henry Ford

Long day, long post. An 89 mile day, with speed picked up by fast flat roads in the middle 60 miles and slowed by the country lanes and hills on the first 15 and the intense traffic on the last 10. We finished at our motel at my room which overlooks Bolton Wanderers FC Football stadium. These facts do not do justice to the extreme differences in today's ride.

View From Room 144 Which the Brits Insist on Putting on the 2nd Floor. They always fool me.

1921 Godffrey Nash

The country cycling is generally wonderful, peaceful and serene, with horses, cows, sheep and farm activity.

But not always and that peacefulness lulls you into a complacency. Cyclists quickly learn to always expect the unexpected and to mentally spend time thinking about possible dangers from potholes to ice to wet painted lines to the proverbial dooring by an open car door (it finally dawned on me this afternoon dooring happens on the left in Britain not the right). But nothing could have prepared me to anticipate the unexpected that occurred today. I was cycling down the country lane pictured below.

I was making time, picking up my cadence, feeling very strong and came around the bend and saw what appeared to be a large American style living room picture window quickly approaching me with a man sitting behind it telling me with his eyes my job was to exit left into the hedgerows. That man happened to be driving a US school size bus directly toward me. I about executed two bodily functions that would definitely have required my shorts to be laundered tonight. I screeched to a stop and he barely slowed and slid by me to my right. It was what I would call a reverse peace sign moment. I didn't capture the moment as a picture on my camera although mentally it will always be as vivid as the moment it occurred. Irish Jerry had a similar encounter and by the time he got to John the First, he stopped to let John pass probably assuming that he already accumulated two witnesses in any liability suit. To give you an idea, the picture below of Skye Matt being passed by a truck should suffice. I must say I fail to understand the physics of the two way traffic on one lane roads.

The countryside again impressed and the little and not so little towns arranged one after another excited.

A highlight of the day was lunch at a “kaffy” at the Aqueduct Marina. Marina, you ask? Yeah, also puzzled me that there would be a marina inland with no lake. I pulled into the marina expecting to see an entourage of Grady Whites with twin 350 HP Evinrudes and saw the scene below. I haven't looked it up, but no doubt there is some luxe magazine named British Barge Life that caters to the clientele here. Apparently, you can take these little puppies all over the canals of England and Wales and on a calm day even saunter over to France for some extended exploration there. I don't mean to get Irish Jerry's family's hopes up, but he was carefully eyeing the several barges that posted for sale signs.

Canal Abutting Marina

The last 10 miles were a self taught, crash course in high traffic British roundabout cycling in a metropolitan context as we moved into Bolton during rush hour traffic. I think I now have the appropriate balance of caution and assertiveness. To coin a phrase, if you can make it here, you can make it anywhere.

Some interesting residential and other pix from the last two days

Must be a Pittsburgh Steelers Fan

Now that is some nice hedge trimming

I see these signs quite frequently

Big vans 35 pence to cross this bridge. Hardly worth the traffic tie up or toll collector's pay

“If you think you can or think you can’t, you’re right.” Henry Ford

Another magical weather day and a “ain't in a hurry” 58 mile ride that was generally rolling with a few noteworthy hills. User error (failure to push start) left off about four miles from the itinerary on my Garmin.

We passed through the quaint castle town of Ludlow (stopping for a tuna and sweet corn sandwich washed down with ginger beer), through another quaint town of Much Wenlock and then on to Ironbridge, the site of the first cast iron bridge in the world. Apple orchards, corn six feet high, hay bales and dry plowed land dotted our ride. The good and bad in people surfaced today. John the Second stopped at a restroom and near his bike discovered a lost 40 pounds. He asked a stranger if it was his. The man said no and John the Second left the man with the money to find its rightful owner or failing that contributing it to a good cause. The man was completely flummoxed with the pressure of the weighty task and asked John to accompany him to the police station to file a report. John declined and left the overwhelmed man, who had a heightened sense of responsibility, to do the right thing. As John recounted the story in Ludlow, a nearby stranger overheard the conversation and approached John saying “Oh, you found my wallet, did you?” John replied ithat was pretty doubtful since the find occurred some 12 miles away. The man then walked away to approach other visitors.

Hand Raised Pork Pies?

First Cast Iron Bridge

Much Wenlock

Arch to Ludlow

Lights Here Turn Combination Red Yellow Before Green

Bowl Carver Ludlow

Downtown Ludlow Car

Downtown Ludlow Delivery Truck

Now the place we stayed last night was quite nice, if not a bit different. I honestly have to say that I have never ever stayed at a place with red satin bed spreads–maybe I need to get out more. I walked into the room and thought I must have gotten the honeymoon suite or maybe even the off season Valentine's Special, but quickly discounted the latter since there was no tub of any shape and the shower seemed kind of normal. For dinner, I had roast beef with Yorkshire pudding; the roast beef was excellent and the Yorkshire pudding not so much. All my Brits want me to do a re-try on the Yorkshire pudding, with clear disappointment. The leeks, however, were to, die for. As we walked out into the motel lobby there were a number of senior citizens playing bingo with a gentlemen holding up a big electronic sign. I decided today was a day for early to bed since I lacked the mental stamina to compete at that level. Bingo here is played with only numbers, not numbers and letters like in America. My Brits, all of whom claim they do not play bingo, regaled me with the number calls: Two fat ladies 88, Legs 11, Two little ducks 22, Kelly's eye 1, Key to the door 21, Unlucky for some 13. They knew the calls so well I suspect they are sneaking a few games in on the weekends, an assertion that evoked a “thou doth protest too much” response. By the way, the breakfasts (both cold and cooked–and we have both–have been outstanding). Imagine getting freshly cooked kipper in a US chain motel.–John the Second's standard cooked breakfast order. What these motels have in breakfasts, they lack in laundry facilities. No washers and no dryers. That means an agonizing day by day choice: wash the clothes in tub or shower, wring, wrap the wet clothes in a towel and jump on them to further get out the moisture and then hope they dry enough to put on so body heat can finish the job; or just keep on riding with dirty clothes. Alas, sloth often trumps cleanliness–but that is probably more than you need to know.

Kipper

Interesting Satin Bedspread

“If you think you can or think you can’t, you’re right.” Henry Ford