Day 8 – 12th April 2007
Breakfast at the Red Cow was actually pretty good, but on balance I think it is better to stay at specialist B & Bs rather than pubs. A pub’s priority ought to be selling good beer, and sometimes it seems that the accommodation takes second place.
It was another lovely morning as we headed towards Church Minshull, and toyed with the idea of the canal towpath. However, we had had enough of off-road for a while so even thought the A-roads were busy, at least we were able to keep up a good pace.
We had an awkward right-turn near Northwich and had been waiting for quite some time for a gap in the traffic, when suddenly a motorist gave way from the right, whilst another followed suit from the left. How refreshing that there are considerate people out there!
At one point we heard an unusual bird call, so stopped to look, and there was a nuthatch scurrying around in the branches of a nearby oak. There are nuthatches in Essex, apparently, although in England, I have only ever seen them in the north and west. There seem to be plenty in Wales.
Somewhere in the area of Lostock Gralam there was a massive chemical works, with pipes bridging the road to some reservoir or other which clearly had never been discovered by the map makers. “Beware of steam vapour for one mile”, said the road sign, so we did that, and were soon on quiet rural roads again.
We had just passed through Pickmere and turned into Frog Lane. We had scarcely gone a yard when BANG! With open jaws a lion sprang! Actually, it didn’t, but the fettling of which I had been so proud not two days ago was undone in an instant as the brand new Panaracer Pasela 26″*1.75″ tyre, being of a dangerous sort, exploded with a loud report [that’s enough Hilaire Belloc references. – Ed.]

I can think of no prettier place than Pickmere if you ever have to change a tyre. It’s a little irksome, to say the least, when that particular tyre cost the best part of £20 and had done only about 80 miles, but the irk was immediately lessened when a chap who had been busily hoovering out his BMW offers you a cup of tea. His name was Keith and he definitely provided a service of great value, disposing of the ruined tyre and tube for us. Thanks, Keith!

In quick succession we crossed the M6 and the M56, resisting the temptation to moon at the motorists below, and then joined the A6144 on its inexorable journey into the metropolis. We felt like a couple of hobbits crossing from the green and pleasant Minas Tirith that is rural Cheshire into the Mordor of Manchester. Crossing the Mersey just doesn’t have the romantic feel to it as crossing the Tamar had done all those miles ago.
In Davyhulme we happened upon a bike shop in which the only member of staff present was a youth. I asked him if he had any 26*1.75 Schwalbe Marathon Pluses and after rummaging around he came back with a pair of 700Cs. At least they were made by Schwalbe, which is something, I suppose. We carried on.
The next couple of miles were amongst the nastiest of my entire cycling life. We went right past the Dark Tower of the Trafford Centre and after a little respite we crossed the Manchester Ship Canal and rode alongside the Bridgewater Canal. The worst part was having to negotiate junction 13 of the M61 and the very unpleasant A575. We took to the pavement and, on crossing the East Lancs Road, picked our way through some peaceful residential roads to Enid’s and David’s house.
Once we had been fed (Covent Garden parsnip and apple soup and ham sandwiches) the quest was on for another tyre or two. I was getting paranoid at the rate we were getting through them and I didn’t want to be tyreless on some remote Scottish hillside in a howling blizzard. I tracked one down at the Green Machine cycle shop in Horwich, so Enid, lovely lady that she is, gave me a lift past the Reebok stadium to Lee Lane, where I purchased the said item. The Green Machine looks to me like another good bike shop.
So that’s all the riding for nearly 24 hours and we have only about 25 miles to do tomorrow. We will set off for Dunnockshaw after lunch.