March 29th, 2022
Deborah’s alarm was set for 6 am to give us plenty of time to complete the fifty or so miles planned for the day. Our destination for the day was the home of my oldest school friend and his wife, Andrew and Lynn. While we were almost like brothers from the age of four to Andrew moving away due to his father’s work at thirteen, we had seen very little of each other over the next forty years. Therefore cycling very close to Andrew’s home was the perfect excuse for a long overdue catchup.
The weather hadn’t changed much overnight, so we headed back into the gloom after hurriedly packing up camp and using the service station facilities. At 7 am, the A1 was already busy, with lorries thundering down the main artery of the east coast of England, so, with a heavy sigh, we joined the party once again.
There isn’t much to report on the miles between Lindisfarne and the exit of the A1 at Morpeth as we kept our head down and pushed on as best we could. The traffic became relentless, and the weather didn’t improve. We know there will be days like this, so we accepted it without complaint. Okay, maybe we did complain to ourselves once or twice, but it did make us feel better.
One advantage of keeping our heads down is that you spot things at the side of the road, so litter spotting had become the sport of the day. It is depressing at the amount of junk that people believe it is acceptable to throw out of their vehicle window rather than taking it home. Besides the standard disposable coffee cups and sandwich packets, there was a stunning collection of phone power cables and headphones. I can’t imagine the scenario that would result in someone deciding to wind down their vehicle window to throw their phone power cable out of it, but many A1 users did just that.
Not far from our turnoff, just north of Morpeth, we spotted what looked like a smartphone. I pulled on the reigns, and Deborah jumped off and ran back up the ten-metre stopping distance of the Pino. Returning with our find, it seems we had bagged an iPhone. Upon closer inspection, it was a new, although rather dirty, iPhone 13. Pressing the power button revealed 8% power remaining and what appeared to be a professionally taken photograph of a young baby. Guessing that nobody had wound their window down to discard this find, both somewhat mistakenly left it on the roof of their car when they pulled away; we stored it in a pannier for dealing with later.
The cycling almost became enjoyable as we cycled through Morpeth, leaving the smell and noise of the A1 behind. That was until our tour nearly came to an abrupt end in the middle of the town. We allowed gravity to do its thing through the town. A large skip lorry pulled nudged its cabin out of a side street. We had the right of way, and the driver caught my eye, so I was convinced he would wait until we passed before pulling out entirely. I was convinced right up to the point he pulled out, forcing me to pull on the brakes harder than I have ever done below, bringing the Pino to a violent halt and almost throwing us both into the road. Still looking in our direction, the lorry driver shrugged his shoulder and drove on.
It took a minute to regain our nerves, but we pushed on with a desire to end this unmemorable day of cycling. The final few miles of the route took us along a complex network of cycle tracks, including a section on off-road farm tracks, including passing an unexpected 15ft tall metal spoon planted in the ground in the middle of nowhere.
We arrived at Andrew and Lynn’s street just as it started to rain. I had forgotten the house number, so we cycled to the end of the road before turning around. As we cycled up the street, a large pickup truck reversed from out behind a parked ambulance. I pulled on the brakes before we were hit; however, the driver hadn’t seen us, so he continued to reverse until he was uncomfortably close to hitting us. We could have moved the bike out of the way on a regular bike, but there was no chance of hauling our rig out of the way in time.
As we cycled back up the street, Andrew and Lynn were standing in their driveway, so there was no need to get my phone out to recall the house number. We were shown to Jessica’s old bedroom, their daughter who had flown the nest a few months previous, although we were assured it was nothing to do with our imminent arrival.
The evening of catching up on the years that have passed since we last were together passed all too quickly over a fantastic spread, with us turning into one of the most comfortable beds we have both slept on in a long while, so a good night’s sleep was definitely on that cards.