Day 3: Into the darkness

Like an over keen puppy Zippy announced that he'd got another puncture over the breakfast table today. So, as he settled in for another round of toast, tea and croissants I toiled on his mobile thorn catcher.
I can confess that the delicate balance of our relationship had deteriorated somewhat and his chirpy attitude had worn very thin.

With hope in our hearts we set off with our eyes on the sky and minds on the hills. The morning flew by and with the wind on out backs. It's impossible to not be cheered at the sight of Zippy ordering a cubic yard of chips then consuming them to the amazement of all bystanders. So I have to confess to feel a slight warming of my frosty attitude.

From York we climbed to the North Yorkshire foot hills where disaster struck on a particular speedy dissent my spoke snapped. Hoping that I wouldn't lose my registration I seconded the local toilets for a makeshift repair shop.

Then onwards and upwards into the blackness we headed for the Open Nest's secret mountain hideaway. A stunning, though nervous ride, through the dark night was the highlight and lowlight of the night.

Then we arrived to an evening of thoughts, chat, and plotting.

98 miles in the hardest of circumstances.

Tomorrow 95 miles on a broke bike. Without battle there is no victory.