Hadrian's Wall (my first tour)

[Crumbling Nick]

Prologue

The idea of this ride emerged after Mrs. N & I had spent a fortnight in May cat-sitting for Mrs. N’s cousin in Newcastle. We were exploring parts of Hadrian’s Wall using buses (free for us pensioners) and starting to plan to walk the trail along the wall. The walk seemed destined for another year, so when Mrs. N said she would be spending a week with her cousin late in August, I started to plan a ride along Hadrian’s Cycleway (HCW) aka NCN 72, 174 miles from Ravenglass (Roman Glannaventa) to South Shields (Arbeia).

As things happened, we did the walk first, returning early in August, which reduced the time available for planning and preparation. The ride was scheduled for 3 days, which seemed fairly relaxed, stopping overnight at B & Bs. Start date was Monday 18th, with a rest day on Friday in Newcastle before riding back to Carlisle for a return train. Getting to Ravenglass was rapidly reduced to catching trains to Windermere and then riding west. The Roman route across the Lakeland fells seemed the most appropriate choice.

The Galaxy was suffering from severe rear indexing problems which had not responded to the obvious solutions. So the Claud Butler was treated to a 42t chainring & time was then spent minimising the weight of baggage. All fitted into the saddlebag & bar-bag, but I opted to strap my Tevas on to the pannier rack to speed repacking and provide extra space for any food purchases.

Day 1 - to Ravenglass

The 7 miles to New St. station in rush hour were damp, but uneventful, and I had enough time to shelter in a tunnel & swap to the 20t cog for the Lakeland hills. The train to Oxenholm was crowded & the cycle store was half full of “not bikes”. Some shuffling was needed to fit in my steed as well as those of a couple riding the C2C, who were getting off after me. The lack of derailleurs was useful here.

From Windermere station to Ambleside was a straightforward main road ride which showed that the low gear was fun to ride in that terrain, and perfect for the tourist traffic jams of Ambleside where I lunched. The drizzle stopped and the temperature rose. I headed west, savouring the occasional glimpses of the ‘Mere from A593, before diving down to cross Little Langdale Beck. The climb to Colwith had 2 short 24” sections and yielded views of Little Langdale and a hint of the fells to come. The climb up Wrynose Pass was even better than I had hoped. Visibility was good & the view towards Windermere along Little Langdale was fantastic. The Three Shires Stone was soon followed by a view of the route ahead that can have changed little since Roman times. The descent to & along Wrynose bottom led to the attractive stone bridge over Cockley Beck. The bottom section of the climb up Hardnott proved rideable & provided a good view of the descent from Wrynose. The view of Eskdale from the top with the Irish Sea in the distance and the Roman ruins of Hardnott fort lower down
made the uphill walk worth every step. The descent was very steep & rain had started, much later than forecast, so I walked down the first few hairpins.

As I arrived at the fort, the rain began in earnest the descent disappeared into the clouds. As I wandered around the site, I reflected that the Roman cohort that manned this lonely outpost must have had a hard time – even worse than the auxiliaries at Housesteads. I reached the Esk at the foot of the pass over an hour ahead of schedule, so I stopped for a while in the Woolpack Inn. This has an excellent micro brewery. The bar contained an assortment of congenial outdoor folk who had also stopped briefly on the way past.

After a few small samples, I continued through the rain down the Esk, its ever present burble occasionally drowned by the splash of the bigger puddles, and revelled in the wildness from the comfort of my waterproofs. The last few miles of the day were along hedged lanes, so the scale of the estuary at Ravenglass, with its mud banks & creeks edged by distant sand dunes was a big surprise. I watched a heron spear a fish and lumber into the air, while redshank piped in the distance. A short trip to the ruins of the Roman bath house of Glannaventa which is the official start of HCW, was followed by a brief look at the terminus of the Ravenglass & Eskdale railway. I retired to the B&B to swap back to the 18t cog & re-lub. the chain. The day had shown that the map case of my bar bag is no longer waterproof so I removed the soggy remains of the day’s maps and patched the edges of the case as well as I could. The day’s total was 37 miles, of which just over a mile was on foot.

[Crumbling Nick]

Day 2 - the Cumbrian coast

The day started sunny, with a light NE (head)wind. This was my first experience of NCN & I decided to avoid 2 stretches of sandy track by the sea by taking the “unsigned on road temporary” alternatives. The second of these, by Sellafield, proved too difficult to navigate with only the Sustrans map & OS Road map 4. I diverted along the B road to Gosforth and was rewarded with a magnificent view up Wasdale, with Scafell Pike & the surrounding peaks capped by clouds. HCW was rejoined at Beckernet, an attractive village. The views of the Lakeland fells continued all morning, though the sea disappeared behind St Bees Head and the ridge that runs northwards up the coast. Whitehaven’s port is squeezed into a surprisingly small gap in the ridge. I spotted an unusual bike stand on the quayside – not heavily used…

Continuing north, Workington proved unmemorable apart from a brief shower. I lunched at Maryport, the half way point in the day’s ride. By now I was about an hour behind schedule, due to the navigation error, the headwind, and the general slowness of the off-road route. Maryport has the Senhouse Roman Museum, which I planned to visit. I saw no signs to it, and by the time it was clear that I had missed it, it seemed easier to press on & catch up with the schedule.

The route continued up the coast, with a few inland diversions, but was now heading northeast. The wind meanwhile had backed to SW and was behind me. Silloth, the next town, proved to be a quaint, but rather run down, left over from Victorian times. The cobbled main street was lined on the landward side by guest houses & hotels facing the Solway Firth & the Sottish hills beyond. I stopped briefly to buy fruit.

After Silloth the terrain became quite flat. The route meandered around the indentations of the Solway shore. The falling tide was exposing vast areas of mudflats, providing a rich feeding ground for many wading birds. By Anthorn two curlew took off and crossed the road just in front of me, providing a close-up view of their improbably long decurved bills. Out on the Firth, other curlew called, an evocative sound of wild unpopulated places.

I eventually reached Bowness-on-Solway, the day’s destination. The village is on a small hump, largely within the outline of the Roman fort of Maia. This is the western end of Hadrian’s Wall. I located the B&B and had just finished unloading when the heavens opened, to be followed by rumbles of thunder. My landlady at Maia Lodge, which I recommend thoroughly, marvelled at my luck.

A quick change & it was time for food at the King’s Arms. It was bustling with walkers, weary but quietly celebrating the completion of the trail along the wall from Wallsend. I reflected that my 80 miles riding had managed to miss all signs of the fortifications that the Romans had built along the coast to Ravenglass. Outside, the sun was setting, the red-tinged clouds reflected in the Firth promising fair weather for the morrow.

Day 3 – Bowness to Twice Brewed

A sunny morning with a forecast of showers later encouraged me to make an early start. However it took a little time to do justice to the splendid English breakfast. Moreover the other two guests were Dutch girls who had just completed the walk and we spent some time sharing our experiences. Eventually I started to pack the bike, but was halted by the appearance of a greater spotted woodpecker taking nuts from the bird feeders only 5m away. It seemed untroubled by my presence, evidently being more interested in a good breakfast.

At last I headed east, blown by a moderate tailwind. The road follows the line of the wall in places, but there are few visible signs. The Firth turned into the River Eden. Approaching Carlisle, the HCW route alongside the Eden is unrideable, so I stuck to the roads. I stopped in the city centre to buy a baguette for lunch, having gained a lot of time, but a little concerned that an average of 95 rpm might be a bit high. As I emerged from the sandwich shop, a passing man enquired about the Claud Butler, a process to be repeated several times during the next two days.

I rejoined HCW, directed by a strategically-placed sign that had presumably been put there by a Sustrans Ranger. The shared use path out of Carlisle was not ideal, being very badly overgrown on the bike side, and suffering frequent tactile strips. These latter proved to be as hazardous as tram lines in the damp and rather slippery conditions. Fortunately the rest of the day was almost entirely on roads. The route meandered alongside the Eden for a while before aiming for Brampton through quiet undulating lanes and a series of villages. Brampton proved to be a bustling little town, with an attractive main street. In the centre is the old Moot Hall, now home to the TIC, where I stopped and chatted to a couple of cyclist who were about half way from Dover to Durness – most impressive.

The route climbed out of Brampton before a rapid descent to cross the River Irthing at Lanercost. I passed the Priory, saving it for another day, and laboured up a stiff climb to Banks. Here the route rejoined the line of the Wall and Roman Masonry was clearly visible. The route continued along the line of the Wall to ruins of Birdoswald fort, which I had planned to visit. The rain had now started in earnest. I covered the saddle, locked the bike & dived inside the visitor centre, joining a queue of other escapees from the rain. A quiet corner for lunch was shared with a veteran time-triallist a decade or two older them me. I explored the museum & fort at leisure while the rain moved off to the east.

As I left I was stopped by a middle-aged, former fixed wheel rider, who seemed to know more about the technical details of my bike than I did (not that hard). We chatted for a while – he was very enthusiastic to see an old touring frame put to good use.

The road turned briefly north away from the wall before turning eastwards towards Gilsland. I stopped to admire the view of the Irthing valley and suddenly realised I had picked a perfect viewpoint for a long surviving section of the Wall by the river crossing at Willowford.

Gilsland & Longbyre were followed by another good viewpoint, in this case of Thirlwall Castle, which is mostly built with stones robbed from the Wall. The rivers were now flowing east, which should have meant riding downhill. However, the route out of Greenhead was one of the steepest climbs of HCW. The surface deteriorated rapidly so I walked, looking thoughtfully at the road alongside, which was well surfaced and graded more evenly. After this, the descent to the South Tyne valley at Haltwhistle was a suitable reward. Haltwhistle claims to be the geographic centre of mainland Britain. It has several rows of stout Victorian stone terraced houses and is not, as Mrs. N’s cousin put it pithily, a place where you’d get a gin & tonic, but it’s obviously a thriving little town. The TIC, housed in former station buildings, is a centre for HCW.

I stopped to buy a newspaper and then continued down the Tyne valley, following the old main road as far as Bardon Mill. At this point HCW turned north, climbing up to the line of the Roman Stanegate, which pre-dates the Wall, at Smiths Shields. The route up had been chosen to give a gentler gradient than the more direct roads, but the 130m climb was hard work & I was quite relieved to leave HCW to stop at the visitor centre at Once Brewed. From there it was a short ride to my overnight stop at the Twice Brewed Inn, my legs feeling much wearier than the day’s 51 miles really justified.

Day 4 – Twice Brewed to South Shields (and a bit further)

The bedroom window faced east and the rising sun woke me a little earlier than planned. I breakfasted, left Twice Brewed and rejoined HCW along Stanegate, passed the fort at Vindolanda and climbed up to the highest point of HWC. From this viewpoint the Wall was visible for miles, running along the top of the Whin Sill. The road descended gradually from there, following a long ridge with memorable views on both sides, before taking a rather circuitous course down the North Tyne valley and into Hexham. Hexham needs at least a complete day to explore, so I continued on to Corbridge, a delightful town that Mrs N. & I had already visited several times, and then to Ovingham where I spotted a splendid narrow old bridge over Whittle Burn. The bridge over the Tyne was also very narrow – the Sustrans guide notes advise “If using road bridge ride down the middle to prevent cars trying to overtake and ignore the car horns!!“.

The next 5 miles were along an old wagon way that had been built before steam railways. I stopped to visit a small stone cottage where George Stephenson was born. The National Trust guide treated me to a fascinating history of the Stepehensons and the cottage. The route continued down the Tyne, the scenery increasing dominated by structures from the area’s long industrial history.

Lunch was on the quayside in Newcastle, almost directly underneath Robert Stephenson’s High Level Bridge. This has recently re-opened to road traffic after some 3 years of major structural repair work. It was difficult to imagine the area in the days when the Roman bridge was there. I reflected that the Romans, who were superb engineers, had long ago identified that this is the best place to bridge the Tyne.

I continued east on the shared-use path of the quayside, riding cautiously through the crowds of pedestrians. I tried the road alongside for a couple of sets of red traffic lights before accepting that hurrying through dense traffic is a futile in pedestrian traffic as it is in the motorised variety. The route left the city centre and wound its way along the Tyne, reaching Wallsend, site of the recently excavated fort of Segedunum. At this point the Wall turns south to end down on the river bank. A fragment of masonry remains.

HCW continued east beyond the end of the Wall, eventually reaching North Shields, to cross the Tyne on the Shields Ferry. One of the ferry crew, obviously a cyclist, noticed my double-sided rear hub and we chatted for a bit. A mile or so after disembarking I reached the end of the trail, the Roman fort of Arbeia. The gateway is a recent reconstruction, but is a graphic reminder of the scale of Roman masonry from an age when timber buildings were otherwise universal. I looked round the museum, which had been closed when Mrs N. & I visited the site, feeling a sense of achievement mixed with an element of anticlimax that there is so little to mark the end of HCW itself.

It was then time to ride back to Mrs N’s cousin’s house in Gosforth. I had planned to ride along the south bank of the river and cross the Millennium Bridge, but now added a ride across the High Level Bride to my itinerary. I set off along NCN 14 & got lost several times. The signage along HCW had been very good. This was not up to the same standard. I took to the roads, aiming for the Sage, known locally as the silver slug, now clearly visible on the Gateshead quayside. Eventually I made it onto the bridge. It was then a short ride to cross Armstrong’s swing bridge, the oldest of the existing bridges. I scrambled up to the High Level Bridge, its interior vaguely reminiscent of a gallery in a mediaeval cathedral.
The mid point provided a good view of the bridges downstream.

Finally, I battled uphill through the rush hour traffic and reached Gosforth exactly 70 miles since leaving Twice Brewed.

[Crumbling Nick]

Day 5 - a rest day

The weather was wet. It would have been ideal for a visit to the Newcastle Museum which has a large collection of Roman artefacts. However the museum was closed due to a relocation to a new building. Instead we took a bus into the city & walked down to the quayside to watch the Millennium Bridge tilting at noon.

Day 6 - returning home

I had booked a return train from Carlisle, so the plan for the day was to ride back there. I was cautious about the schedule, especially with a westerly wind forecast, so had built in a fair amount of slack, and opted for a conservative route which minimised climbing. This meant repeating large sections of my route east, which seemed rather uninspired, but at least the Newcastle-Carlisle railway was not far away if the schedule fell apart.

The day started well. Mrs N & cousin had planned to catch buses to Walltown and walk down to Thirlwall Castle, so we all left the house at 8 o’clock with every expectation of a sunny day albeit with rain forecast in the west later on. I rode downhill to Newburn, and joined HWC back up the Tyne valley. It was almost windless, the sun came out and the temperature rose. The tide was high and the river was as calm as the proverbial mill pond. I arrived in Hexham with time in hand, so diverted into the town to visit the market. I spotted the Hadrian’s Wall bus (AD122, which is an invaluable service for walkers, and now has a bike rack on the back) and met Mrs N & cousin emerging from the TIC. They were slightly bemused to find that the buses had only been 10 minutes faster than a bike over 22 miles. I continued to the market and soon found the stall I was looking for, a butcher that had been selling squirrel meat. I enquired, but they had none – it seems that the cull of grey squirrels, which had been their source, is so effective that the supply has dried up. We shared both my disappointment and the reflection that this was very good news for the native red squirrel population.

I travelled onward, leaving HWC at the next river crossing and following the north bank of the South Tyne to Haydon Bridge, the picturesque old stone bridge now bypassed and looking rather patched up and a bit neglected.
The A69 to Bardon Mill proved pleasanter than expected. The traffic, which was solid by the bridge, had somehow thinned. The road was wide, smooth and well-graded, with excellent visibility and my progress was rapid. I took the old road west from Bardon Mill, which is rough and undulating, but almost car free, but returned to the modern A69 from Haltwhistle to a lunch stop at Greenhead.

There was now plenty of spare time in the schedule, so a couple of visits could be fitted in. I rode on to Gilsland and took a quiet lane along the south slopes of the Irthing valley to Lanercost Priory. This has had a turbulent history. The location close to the Scottish border meant it had been in a war zone for many centuries. The religious foundation had been so impoverished by the ‘visits’ of the armies, not to mention a very costly visit by Edward I, that Henry VIII’s dissolution of the monasteries must have provided very wealth for the latter’s Treasury. As expected, there is a fair amount of Roman stone from the Wall in the older parts. I talked to the receptionist, who had added sketches of some of the more interesting stones to the notes for visitors. These had been rescued from an audio-visual facility which appears to have died after budget cuts by English Heritage. I wondered whether the funds had been diverted to pay for the 2012 Olympics.

I left the Priory and resumed the journey west, stopping briefly to admire the old bridge over the Irthing.

After another short stop to enjoy Brampton again, I took a fairly direct route back to Carlisle for more visits. The first was the Guildhall. This ancient timber-framed building has floors that undulate alarmingly as you walk around, causing a vague feeling of being at sea!

The second visit was the Tullie Museum which has a well-presented display of Roman artefacts. Time was far too short to explore the place properly, which has to be kept for another visit.

The train journey back to Brum was pleasantly uneventful, though the forecast rain arrived and passed onwards during the trip. I left New St. station, knowing that it was quicker to ride home that wait for the next train from Moor St. to Solihull. Nearing home, I collected food from our local takeaway and was pleasantly surprised that it fitted into the bar-bag. The bike was dumped unceremoniously in the garage and I waded across the garage, knee-deep in muddy tents which were drying out from our youngest daughter’s festival visits.

Fed & watered, I returned to the bike to unload, reflecting on the week and the pros & cons of Sustrans & NCN. I had ridden 314 miles in 6 days through some superb cycling country. The weather had been amazingly good at a time when others nearby were suffering floods. Nothing serious had gone wrong.

I then looked at my bike and realised that the chain was now a bit slack .