United Kingdom 2015
 
 

Day 03

September 17

 
   
  As is my usual practice. I have some goals for this trip beside surprising the Brits by showing up. Today there are three - stop by the church at Olney, ride the Hardknott Pass and ride the Wrynose Pass. To do the job that needs to be done, a man needs the proper fuel.  
   
  And the hotel has just what I need - plenty of hen fruit and pig meat, not to mention a few other tasty tidbits that I partake of.  
   
  I attack the task before me as needful and necessary, since I won't be stopping for food again until supper time.  
   
  In the strength of that meat, I am off early to the shop to pickup my ST1300 for this trip. I figure I'll be here when they open so I can get on with it. I've got 400+ miles to do today over some pretty 'interesting' roads plus I have to get the bike packed up.  
   
  Soon one of Mike's helpers comes in to open up, so I make myself comfortable in their main office.  
   
  As I sit there, I notice their 'unique' door knob. I'm a little slow some days, but I finally 'get it' on closer inspection - a slightly used throttle from what looks like a Honda of some persuasion.  
   
  Soon we get the paperwork sorted and I'm good to go. It will be a silver ST1300 which I will call 'Silver Queen'. It's a short ride back to the hotel and fortunately my synapses are working and I remember the way back without the aid of electronic devices.  
   
  I get my stuff organized and strapped on, including my US flag. I figure if I do something stupid on the roadway, maybe the other motorists will figure I'm just a dumb colonial and have mercy on me.  
   
  I've got my GPS with me on this trip and the routes preloaded. I also have my 'route shorthand' strapped to the handlebars just in case. The GPS certainly makes it a lot easier to focus on the 'challenges' in front of me with it's verbal directions.  
   
  Traffic is pretty intense in the thirteen or so miles I have to cover before I reach the M1 motorway, the equivalent of our interstates. My body still thinks it is on Nashville time somewhat, and I'm dealing with riding on the proper side of the road instead of the right side.  
   
  I manage to get out Dodge with no incidents at all, and I'm off on the M1. I just have to remember that their 'hammer' lanes and 'granny' lanes are reversed to what it is back home.  
   
  It's only around sixty miles to Olney, my first stop so it passes rather quickly even with the traffic. As I approach the village I see the familiar church steeple in the distance.  
   
  I had been here many years ago with my wife on a business trip to Milton Keynes, city of the roundabouts. But today I have a bit more time to look around since I'm on my own schedule.  
   
  The 'official' name of the place is 'The Parish Church of St. Peter and St. Paul'.  
   
  The main part of the church was completed the early 14th century in the decorated Gothic style.  
   
 

John Newton, the writer of the great old hymn, 'Amazing Grace', pastored this church and is buried here. As the church website says -

The names of Olney and of John Newton have been connected since the former slave-trader was curate at St Peter and St Paul’s church between 1764 and 1780. Newton’s friendship enabled William Wilberforce to become the greatest advocate of the abolition of the slave trade. Later, they worked together to establish a home for freed slaves in Sierra Leone – this is how the villages of Newton and Wilberforce came to being.

“Amazing Grace” is a Christian hymn written by poet and curate of St Peter & St Paul Olney, John Newton (1725–1807), published in 1779. With a message that forgiveness and redemption are possible regardless of the sins people commit and that the soul can be delivered from despair through the mercy of God, “Amazing Grace” is one of the most recognizable songs in the English-speaking world.

Newton wrote the words from personal experience. He grew up without any particular religious conviction but his life’s path was formed by a variety of twists and coincidences that were often put into motion by his recalcitrant insubordination. He was pressed into the Royal Navy and became a sailor, eventually participating in the slave trade. One night a terrible storm battered his vessel so severely that he became frightened enough to call out to God for mercy, a moment that marked the beginning of his spiritual conversion. His career in slave trading lasted a few years more until he quit going to sea altogether and began studying theology.

Ordained in the Church of England in 1764, Newton became curate of Olney, Buckinghamshire, where he began to write hymns with poet William Cowper. “Amazing Grace” was written to illustrate a sermon on New Year’s Day of 1773.

John Newton was later to become one of the founders of the Christian Missionary Society which held it’s first meeting on the 16th January 1783.

 
   
  He later pastored in London and was buried there, but when they cleared those burial grounds in 1893, he and his wife were reinterred here. As a church piano player, I have played 'Amazing Grace' many, many times and I feel a great connection to it's author. John Newton was also a poet and wrote several other hymns that are not as well known.  
   
  I make my way around the other side of the church, admiring the ornate beauty before me.  
   
  The steeple is quite imposing as it points the way to God in Heaven above.  
   
  Since I have the time, I check to see if the door to the sanctuary is open, and thankfully it is. There is a lady up front tending to a floral arrangement and she welcomes me in.  
   
  There is quite an impressive pipe organ but I also notice that they have a piano.  
   
 

We chat a bit about the history of the church. She tells me -

"We are truly blessed here and are so fortunate."

She then directs me to the 'Amazing Grace' stained glass window. She continues -

"We have many Americans come over and sing 'Amazing Grace' right here."

"Well don't worry about me singing" I tell her, "cause when I sing, the angels in Heaven put the tips of their wings into their ears!"

 
   
  Then she points me to the pulpit that John Newton preached from when he ministered here. I thank her very much for her kindness, and quietly make my way outside.  
   
  I take one more shot of an interesting angel tombstone, then head out to the patiently waiting Silver Queen.  
   
  I've still got a pretty good to haul before my next destination, so it's on to the M1 motorway. Soon I make the turnoff onto M6 which will take me north and west toward the Lake District.  
   
  It's time for a fuel stop, so I pull off at the next service area. When I do the calculation, the gas figures out to be about $7.45 a gallon. If those kind of prices happen in the United States, the economy will probably grind to a slow death as places are so greater a distance apart than they are here. On my recent ride to Maine, I covered 1,400 miles just to get there. The longest ride in the UK is from John O'Groats to Lands End, which is under 900 miles.  
   
  Now I encounter a new twist to the 'nanny' state - variable speed limits on timed cameras. The way it works is they get a picture of your license plate at various spots and calculate your average speed based on the distance covered. If it's too much, a ticket is mailed to the holder of the registration of the vehicle. For rental bikes like mine, my credit card would get dinged by the rental agency for the fine. It's just a little too 'Big Brother' to suit me for sure.  
   
  I am amazed at how heavy the traffic has been all day long. It seems to be incessant with no end in sight.  
   
  Finally, I reach A590 and get off the M6. This is a lot more to my liking and a whole lot less traffic and speed cameras.  
   
 

I figure there is probably not a lot of fuel options once I get close to Hardknott pass, judging by the research I have done. So I pull into the first gas station that I see that is easy enough to get in and out of. While I'm there taking a break, another rider on dual sport pulls in. We talk a little bit and then he asks me -

"Where are you headed?"

"Hardknott Pass and then Wrynose Pass, I reckon" I tell him.

He looks at me as if all my lanterns are not lit and says "'Hardknott - This late? On that?"

"I reckon so. I've done Stelvio in the Alps, so I think I'll be okay. I've come to ride it so I'm going to give it a shot" I reply.

He just sort of shakes his head and wishes me well, and we're both off to our respective destinations.

 
   
  It's nice to be out on the backroads once again, even though I do encounter a few of these sort of construction zones.  
   
  The skies don't look promising, but the views are spectacular.  
   
  Just past Broughton In Furness, I find my first turnoff from the A roads. It's called Smithy Lane and it is certainly no slouch for lack of grade. It alternates between dual and single track and it is a joy to ride.  
   
  One of things that I want to do is to shoot a video of my run up Hardknott Pass. The problem is that the road is so narrow that there is no real place to pull off and set up. Finally I come to this spot that is little wider, and so I get my video camera in place and ready to go.  
   
  I'm still a little ways from the road and the liquid sunshine begins to fall. This does not bode well for shooting video, as about all that will be recorded will be raindrops on the windshield. So I beseech my Heavenly Father that He would hold off the rain until I get up the pass.  
   
  He is far more gracious to me than I deserve and far more often than I deserve. The rain stops and I thank Him for His kindness in response to my request.  
   
  I also remind myself that this is not the place to be stupid, since no one knows I'm here. I've not seen any traffic so I figure if I go down, I'll be laying here till my bones dry up and blow away.  
   
  As I get closer, I see that I am about four miles from the beginning of the run up to the pass. A 30% grade is mighty steep in any terms, as about the steepest I've seen in the States is around 15%.  
   
  And just in case you don't get it the first time, there's another sign to warn you of your impending doom.  
   
  At this point, the road goes to a very narrow single track and the pavement is a little rougher than average.  
   
  But it's a nice piece of twisty stuff to ride and I am enjoying it - especially with the lack of traffic. About two thirds of the way up, there are three really tight, really steep hairpins to deal with. I am glad no one is coming down as this would really complicate the negotiation.  
   
  Me and Silver Queen manage to make to the very top with no drama to speak of. And the rain has held off so the video should be pretty good. I can only imagine how hard it was on the Roman soldiers who made this trek with all their gear to occupy a nearby fort. I was hoping to take a look a the fort, but it is getting late so I figure it will just have to wait til another day.  
   
  There's a lovely view going down the other side and it's pretty twisty as well.  
   
  Before long, I'm at the intersection of Hardknott Pass Road and the way to Wrynose Pass.  
   
  After Hardknott, Wrynose is pretty tame in comparison.  
   
  You do have to watch for the livestock since you are riding through what we would call 'open range' back home.  
   
  It's a nice twisty run up to Wrynose and once again I am blessed with no traffic at all.  
   
  From what I think is the top (I see nothing to indicate it), there is another lovely view.  
   
 

As I make my way down the mountain, I stop so I can get a shot of the 'Three Shire Stone' , a boundary stone that marks the location where the historic English counties of Lancashire, Cumberland and Westmorland meet.

 
   
  It's pleasant and fun run since there is no traffic and no speed cameras.  
   
  The rain starts to pick up, but I really don't mind since I'm done shooting videos. It will be a while before I can upload them and see how they come out.  
   
  Back down to the flatlands, I pass one of many of the lovely lakes in the area.  
   
  When I arrive in Bradford, I go ahead and gas up so I will be good to go in the morning. I've learned by hard experience that is the wise choice as you never know when you will be leaving and what the opportunities for fuel will be at the time.  
   
  It's been a long day and I am really glad when I see this motel sign.  
   
 

Since I will be here for three days, I unburden Silver Queen and haul my stuff up to my room. I get cleaned up a bit and decide I need to 'feed the beast'. The motel has a 24/7 kitchen so I figure that will work as I really don't want to wander around looking for grub this late. I pick a 'Dutch Toastie' which is similar to an American grilled cheese and ham. After a while, the server comes out and tells me -

"I'm terribly sorry, but we're out of ham. We could do a tomato and cheese instead."

Well, I'm a carnivore, so I put on my thinking cap. Since they do breakfast, I have a hunch that they have plenty of bacon. I ask her

"How about using bacon instead of ham? I'll be fine with that."

My hunch was correct, so that's what I get and it proves to be pretty tasty.

 
   
  I'm really feeling the effects of the different time zone and the long haul for the day. So I finish up my grub and trudge upstairs to collapse into a pile of unconscious debris.