Carlisle and 'A Penny for your Thoughts.'

I woke this morning full of self-doubt, achey and tired. Why am I doing this ride? What's the point? I could so easily quit. It makes no difference to anyone. People think I'm crazy! If I quit, it'll soon be forgotten by others, and I can quickly put the memory of it behind me. Yes, we have choices on our journey's through life, so what gives people the willingness to stay in there when things get tough; like John, the eccentric man from Dalmellington, who nursed his wife for ten years as she slowly deteriorated in health? But then this ride is nothing compared to that, or the hundreds of people I have listened to over the years, struggling with unforeseen changes in their lives; sudden and unexpected deaths of children, illnesses, separations, and losses. I am minded once again to be in the present moment, not think ahead, and not pay attention to what others think. Now is all there is. Is it just coincidence that the word for a 'gift' is a 'present?' So is not the present moment a gift? It's all about where we choose to focus attention. And as has come out repeatedly on this trip, through talking to people, it's the journey that matters, not the destination. Everything can change in an instant, and permanency is illusory. I recollect once again what Adrian Burgess, the climber said, about focussing on the next hand hold and foothold, and not giving the summit any thought. With that in mind, from the local post sorting office, I collected the four remaining spokes I still possessed, that Kathy had sent me, and made my way to 'Re-Bike,' a bicycle recycling scheme in the city.                            
 
"No chance mate," said the manager of the scheme brusquely, when I showed him the small penny farthing wheel. It was a sweltering day, and he brushed away a fly, "It's a solid tyre as well. We just don't have anything like that!" Behind him, in an arched railway workshop, half a dozen oily handed volunteers were busy fiddling with bicycles; fitting a crank, adjusting brakes, fitting chains, and removing wheels. Half of the workshop was piled to the ceiling with bikes for recycling, a tangled mess of bike frames, wheels, brake pulleys, cranks and pedals. I'd known it was a long shot finding a wheel or a tyre; and now, disappointed, guessed I'd have to return to my son's and try and somehow sow the rear tyre together. But just as I was turning to leave, my eye caught one single wheel, still attached to its faded lime green frame. "What about that one?" I asked. It was the sort of weather that induces lethargy. The manager reluctantly disentangled the bike, and removed the wheel. Much to my amazement, it was exactly the same sized wheel as the existing one; identical apart from a different sized axle, which I was able to fit from the old wheel, myself. As can be seen from the photos below, the old tyre was pretty much past it, alarmingly splitting around the circumference of the wheel. I'm lucky I made it as far as Carlisle.

A replacement farthing!  What amazing fortune!

I am grateful to my daughter Chanti, who sent me the following saying this morning. 'People give up so fast, because they tend to look at how far they still have to go, instead of how far they have come.'
Looking at the map of the United Kingdom, I can see that I have in fact come a very long way. I'd say that by tomorrow evening I'll be over the half way point.

It had been my plan today to interview people at the Penny Farthing Cafe this afternoon. Not only did I have great difficulty finding it, every time I passed a pub on route, out would pour half a dozen men, laughing, joking, admiring, or genuinely interested. "Go on, show us how you ride it!" was shouted repeatedly. And I did ride it, to a huge round of applause and cheers. Arriving at the cafe, I found the shutters down, and the cafe empty. It was just about to close. However, Lynn, the owner, stayed open, and made me a baked potato with a tasty chicken and mango filling, together with some salad. As I ate, I noticed on the wall a poster. 'Never quit!' it said. After my lunch, Lynn and I took a few photos of the bike leaning against the railings of the cafe. In the evening I was able to interview two students, and once again was struck by how much our lives are shaped by societal expectations that limit or hinder us.

I will say more about 'A Penny for your Thoughts' as an idea in a later blog. Right now I need to get ready for the next part of the journey. By evening I hope to be in Kirkby Lonsdale. I was grateful for the rest yesterday, and not to have been cycling on the hottest day of the year, and in some places in the UK, the hottest day on record. Overnight there were violent thunderstorms and heavy rain. Right now, the sky is leaden, and I'll be surprised if I don't get a soaking at some point. That could be wonderfully refreshing.