Today was always about getting the measure of this ride. A heavier load means a slower pace.I know that's obvious, but I didn't have time to do a test ride to see just how much slower. The hills in Cornwall are relentless. If you're not climbing you're descending, with no opportunities to just roll along the flat. That said, it's not "proper hard". The hills aren't that big or that steep, but one look at my Garmin will tell you all you need to know how my day went (if you ignore the fact I didn't reset the Garmin after a blip in London the night before).
But slower than normal can have its upsides. I always planned this trip to be more about the journey than the destination (and not some teenage wannabe psychobabble emotional journey, I mean the traveling from A to B type of actual journey). Apart from a torrential downpour as I spun through Penzance, Cornwall was a picture today. Cresting a rise I would see unexpected vistas over to the sea towards north and south. Down one back lane, I came across half a dozen disused tin mines in the space of less than a mile. The tall pithead buildings with their distinctive chimneys looked like clenched hands bursting out of the ground and pointing to the sky. Normally I'd cruise on past, but I'm making the effort to stop. I'm not going to worry about the average speed, heart rate zones and all the other numbers for once. I'm just going to enjoy the ride, and today was a good day.
I start the morning with a 1000ft climb onto Dartmoor, practically from the doorstep of the hotel. It's then a 140 mile ride to my next night's sleep, so let's see if I don't care about the numbers tomorrow night!
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