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Day 3: Whupped after the day before, plus the first week of a bike tour is always the hardest.

Early morning on the Pennines, my tent, 40F, blowing mist, I kept expecting Tim the Enchanter to show up.....



...and an intro to these big fugging slugs which are absolutely all over Northern England and Scotland, besides the slugs themselves worst thing is they leave slimy trails of black slug crap on your tent.





Up top was a cafe (closed when I was there, I got in late and left way early), in front of the cafe was a row of benches looking to the Northwest towards Scotland and the distant sea.

This road is real popular among motorcyclists, and it came as a shock to realize those benches were memorials to people who had died up there, put up by relatives and friends. Most were motorcycle wrecks.