Cheddar to Tiverton

I had my best night's sleep since leaving John O'Groat's last night, so much so that it felt as if I'd been drugged. Thanks to Gill and Nigel for accommodating me, for a delicious supper, and to Gill for partaking in "A Penny for your Thoughts.' Apologies for drifting off to sleep during conversation at supper!

You would think that after a good night's sleep, the body would be all fired up and ready to go. The opposite proved to be the case. Riding a penny farthing requires a lot of upper body exertion, especially on hills. I pull on the handlebars in order to give my legs more power. Yesterday, I don't feel I ever got into any rhythm or pace. I felt tired, and my arms and legs felt weak and like lumps of lead. Having said that, the countryside was stunning, and for the first half of the ride, reasonably flat. I was on the Somerset levels, an area I have always so enjoyed riding in, and it was a warm, sunny, summer's day. In the distance, beyond the fields of grazing Friesian cows, could be seen Glastonbury Tor, topped with the 15th century, roofless, St Michael's tower.

There are long, straight water channels running across the levels, many of which are for drainage, These have been unable to cope with the amount of rainfall in recent years, and dredging work continues. It was lovely to see huge yellow waterlilies; swans gliding through the water; herons standing alert by the water's edge, or flying with their huge prehistoric looking wings; and numerous emperor dragonflies hovering or darting over reed beds. At times the road was lined with rows of willows, there leaves glistening in the strong breeze. My route took me though Shapwick Heath National Nature Reserve, and the Hawk and Owl Nature Reserve on Shapwick moor. The Shapwick reserve is a biological site of special scientific interest, aiming to conserve and enhance the  wildlife of the area. Across the site runs the ancient Sweet Track, the oldest timber trackway discovered in Northern Europe.

As I passed through the attractive village of Wedmore, I was stopped on numerous occasions, people curious about the penny farthing passing through the village. I think in the last two weeks I have had more photos taken of me than in my entire life. Leaving the village, walking up a steep incline, I was passed by a group of cyclists, throwing themselves at the hill with great determination. I caught sight of the red 'M' and a dot on the back of one the men's legs. An iron man! I bet he didn't notice the the 'Wheel Man' tattoo on the back of my leg!

The Somerset levels are steeped in history, and I only wish I had time to write about this in more depth. One of the most famous battles in the area, was the battle of Sedgemoor in 1685, which came about as a consequence of the Protestant Duke of Monmouth attempting to overthrow the Catholic king  of England, James II. I passed Burrow Mump in the small village of Burrowbridge, with its ruined church overlooking Southlake Moor. This hill, and archaeological evidence of a motte on the hill, led to some calling the hill King Alfred's Fort, though there is little evidence that King Alfred the Great made use of the hill as a fortification. I guess all sorts of claims are made in the names of legendary kings and queens. I have seen dozens of sites related to King Arthur on my travels. He must have had many round tables, or transported one with him. But it's the agricultural history of the levels which interests me. One cannot help but feel many traditions and ways of life have been lost forever. What does survive however, is a rich tradition of growing willow to make baskets; and traditional cider making, as evidenced by numerous cider apple orchards.

I'd been able to keep to minor roads all morning, passing through delightful villages, with equally delightful names; North Curry, Stoke St Gregory, Knapp and Creech St Michael. Arriving in Taunton however, my choice of road became more limited. I was now cycling during the heat of the day, a heat haze rising, tar melting on the roads. I found myself at times on the A38, with an incessant stream of traffic roaring past. Reaching the road sign for 'Devon' was a strange experience. I have so enjoyed cycling across the stretch of Scotland and England, and now it felt as if my journey was nearing its end. However, having done John O'Groat's to Land's End twice before, I know that there is still a way to go, and that Devon and Cornwall have the most difficult and hilly terrain. It was so refreshing to be able to eventually turn off the A38, on to the Grand Western Canal, with its quiet footpath and cycle track, and views across the Devon countryside. Seeing eight newly born cygnets, fluffy and downy, guarded by two proud parents, brought a smile to my face.

The sky was dotted with hot air balloons as I completed the last part of the journey. This weekend is the Tiverton hot air ballon festival, where I shall spend part of the day tomorrow. On Sunday I shall set off once more, though I still have to decide whether to go round or over Dartmoor; the short, sharp approach, or the long, enduring ride around Dartmoor's fringes. What would a 'Wheel man' do?