Day 8 - Kidderminster to Crewe, 68 miles. Hilly bits 3000 ft. 1 x fall

Cleats are the metal thingies that clip your pedals and shoes together. They probably give you about 25% more oomph, but in my case they’ve delivered 100% more bruises because I couldn’t get my feet out in time. (See Exhibits A & B.)

Today my cleats decided to go into full lockdown. So I couldn’t get my feet out at all. Being a calm, stoical type I started shrieking I can’t stop, I’m going to crash (and a selection of expletives). Alan, in the best Die Hard tradition, took on the role of air traffic controller, talking me down to a safe landing, before turning into a blacksmith and performing roadside surgery on my pedals and cleats.

It’s been a revelation cycling afterwards. As if someone has unsuperglued your foot from the accelerator. Amazing how much more pleasant cycling is when you can stop painlessly.

Today‘s lessons:

1. Remember you are sharing a room when applying chamois cream and that it’s not a porn set.

2. Do not say some cold water on my shoulder would be lovely when you’re crouched in a bath of cold water, unless you really mean it and have braced yourself.

3. Answer your phone when it rings and it’s been a couple of miles without seeing the others, in case they’re phoning to tell you that you’re going the wrong way.

Thank you and goodbye Worcestershir and Staffordshire.

Goodnight.