Day 3 Bury to Cleckheaton

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8am and I cycle out of Bury car park and after a couple of turns I am facing my first hill of the day - first of many. I leave Bury along the Rochdale rd, a road that appears to be completely made up of distribution centres, full of lorries that trundle past me rather too close for comfort. Each new driver appears to want to play chicken with me and I mutter various latin phrases under my breath as another driver squeezes me into the potholes and curbs of the Rochdale Rd.

Eventually I travel through Heywood and then into Rochdale itself. I have to say that to the passing cyclist, it is not an inspiring place. Row upon row of dark terraces and windswept hilly cobbles and middle aged men walking angry looking dogs -not a great place for your long distance cyclist. It feels like I am cycling through the dark heart of the recession. I activate Britney's suspension and turn onto the Rochdale canal that will take me through the Pennines.

Shockingly quickly Rochdale's depressing streetscapes are replaced by large pretty stone cottages with expansive and friendly couples walking rather gormless labradors give whose enthusiastic attentions try and bound me into each new canal lock.

I can see the Peninnes now on the horizon and I scan the hills looking for the way through - unfortunately there is only one way and it isn't through it is over. Each new lock takes me up and up, until eventually I see a pub called "The Summit" and feel I must be getting somewhere. I am now at what a sign informs me is the highest canal lock in England - not a place I ever planned to be but I feel it is time for a photo opportunity and a mid morning snack.

Highest lock in England - must be all downhill from here - and it is for a bit. Through lovely Todmorden and Hebden Bridge. Then my route takes me off road through a forest glade (wasteland to you and me). The track narrows, becomes indistinct and then peters out completely. I lug my bike onto the nearby road and cycle back to the intersection. To my left the road winds up into the clouds and to my right it veers down into the valley,. A quick look at my navigation app reassures me that it is down not up. I wheel right and pick up speed quickly. Then my app tells me I have gone wrong I should have gone left and up. Screech of breaks and more muttering and I turn around. 5 minutes later and I am back to the point I started. The road goes up and up and round and round. Finally I reach the top and have to descend down a psychotically steep cobbled path back to the canal - it takes all the fun out of the descent.

I realise that despite taking the precaution of having two Ipones each with a navigaiton app my second one is now low on charge. I have to get my head down and into top gear and speed along the canal. More crazy labradors try and get themselves run over or push me in the canal but I am making good progress. I have really put the effort in and I reach Brighouse in good time. Just a few miles cross country to Cleckheaton where I have arranged with Nicola for her to pick me up.

I turn off the canal and round the bend to what I can only describe as a bloody big hill. My legs are really tired from the long canal sprint and I look up at the hill like Jack surveying the beanstalk. Big deep breath and off I set, down a gear, pedal, down anouther gear, pedal, down another gear and then, on no, nowehere else to go. I think at this stage I let out a whimper - or something equally unmanly. Out of the saddle and squeezing the pedals round. Eventually I am at the top really spent and a little bit emotional.

A short ride into Cleckheaton and I realise that I have not chosen the best place to rendevous - it's a bit rough looking to say the least. Nic is glad to see me as she has spent the last 30 minutes moving the car from space to space to avoid the special brew swilling teenagers. I slump into the car. Day 3 complete by a long way the hardest so far. Just want to get home and get in the bath

Miles completed - 90
Calorites burned - 5100
Special Athletic supersnack - Melton Mowbray Porky Pie (individual sized)

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Day 4 - Cleckheaton to Leeds

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I fell asleep in the bath last night after my day in the hills and cobbles of the Lancashire/ Yorkshire border. This morning my legs are telling me with every step that they have had enough - only 10 miles to go but they want out. I have had great weather all week but it now looks according to the weather man like it is going to be rain on the run in.

I arrive in lovely Cleckheaton and with no little trepidation, I leave my car and set off. Straight away a long and winding hill. The route takes me off road over rocks and through mud - not exactly the easy run in I had envisaged.

Then I am back on the road - not any old road, the A62 and it is very busy - back to the game of chicken with the lorry drivers - they always seem keen to play.

Eventually I am in Morley - getting close now. Another turn off the road and I am whizzing through farm tracks - I can see the white rose centre and the Arlington. Then a sign that warns cyclists that the farm dog will attack - even though this is a public byway. I spur myself on listening out for low growls and pick up speed as a dog emerges from a farm building bounding toward me and barking - but I am away and running the track is all down hill and before I know it I am at a railway crossing into the White Rose centre.



Wet, muddy and walking like John Wayne I approach the security man who points me in the direction of the bike shed. I pretend not to hear him telling me I have to cycle wll the way round and instead bunny hop over the curb through the one way system. Arrived in one piece despite the best efforts of lorry drivers, dogs, canal locks, hills and cobbles.

Miles completed - 100
Calories burned - 4450
Special Athletic superfood - Chocolate browny (with added pecans)

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Day 2 - PB to Bury

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7am and the sun is shining. I spent the whole of the previous evening sorting my bike out - two inner tube changes before I realised the punctures were because there was a thorn in rear tyre - doh. However good practice changing the rear wheel in case of emergency....

So I set out along the bridgewater canal the sun warming my back. Amazingly tranquil just 5 mins from PB into cheshire countryside. Unfortunately heavy rain the night before has meant the canal path is heavily puddled. Britney (my Mountain bike) has no mud guards so my lycra clad bottom was pretty wet pretty soon. A man with a striking resemblance to Peppa Pigs grandad puffs by on his canal boat and waves me a cheery Hullo - this is the life.

Being the digital native I am (whatever one of those is) I am using my iphone to navigate - fantastic Ordinance survey app with my route marked on it - every twist and turn in stunning apple detail. The canal turns into a great cycle path going from outside Warrington to Manchester. I am soon in the outskirts of Sale and back on a canal - less picturesque now though, shopping trolleys floating past instead of painted canal boats. I pass Old Trafford, the path is getting thin and less discernible - I wonder how deep the canal is and whether my backpack would drag me to the bottom - gulp.

I notice the battery on my phone is on red - I am half way through the ride and about to go through the middle of Manchester - I would have no idea where to go if the battery gives out. No map - I curse the digital age and speed up. Weaving my way through the Manchester traffic I come out onto the cycle way to Bury. There are big blue sgns every 100 yeard "Bury this way". I heave a large sigh of relief - even if my phone goes now I should be OK. The route take me through a country park folowing the course of the river Irlam. My phone finally gives out but I checked the route and I just need to keep on this track all the way to Bury - only about 5 miles away now.

5 minutes after the phone dies and the signs have stopped - its like a conspiracy. The route splits into 3 "eeny meany miny mo" take the middle one. 10 minutes later I am mired up to my pedals in mud - this cannot be the path but I am pretty sure this was the right route. My confidence crashes as I am overtaken by horse - this cannot be a national cycle way. I turn back and as I squelch back up the track - disaster my back tyre goes flat. Mud up to my knees lost in the forest and now a puncture. I feel like blubbing but man up and find my spanner.

Luckily all that practice at changing wheels means at least I know what to do. I set about it and in not too long I have a new inner tube on. I carry on back down the track, back to the 3 way junction. There it is - a big blue sign pointing the way I have just come saying "cycle path to Bury" - how could I have missed it. Back up the mucky track. I emerge out of the woods tired and dirty, blinking the mud out of my eyes. I ask a taxi driver they way to Dumers lane, he looks me up and down and cheerfully points me in the right direction. I turn into the call centre car park, wheel past the smirking smokers liquid mud trailing behind me - half way there.

Miles completed - 50
Calories burned - 2750
Athletic snack of the day - a Snicker and a Mars Bar (king size)

you can sponsor me at http://www.justgiving.com/Martin-Lally0