Two weeks.
Exhaustion, exhilaration, delight, anger and frustration. What a mixed bag today has been.
Off from Kington, in the general direction of a small town called Bredwardine. Today began, as every day has so far, with a large hill. This one was not as large as those we confronted on other days but both Heather and I started off exhausted and sore.
I don’t think Heather has noticed yet but she is already doing better even in an exhausted state.
After the hill it was downhill to a marvelous town called Eardisley. Every building in the town was tilted northwards as though pointing the way out of the Wye valley.
The church at in town, the Church of Mary Magdalene was a magical place. The tombs and gravestones were weathered with eons of decay and inside was the most spectacular baptismal font adorned with the eternal conflict between good and evil. After a brief lunch we trekked on and soon crossed the Wye River. We stopped on the bridge for a moment to watch a group of teenage boys, egged on by the presence of a rather bored looking girl, leaping off a bridge into the murky water of the Wye. Then we confidently biked on, again towards the town of Bredwardine. a campsite and the ancient site of Arthur’s Stone. Undaunted by the 25% grade we gamely trudge uphill even after being barked at by various dogs and after being when told that no campground existed. After an hour of climbing gamefulness changed to frustration and disappointment. We climbed for what seemed like forever only to find that we couldn't even find Arthur’s stone. In despair, and with no where else to go, we marched on. We soon gave up all hope, at which point we ran into…Arthur’s stone. We were, however, still disappointed to learn that it was only a Neolithic burial chamber with no connection to the king of legend.
From the Stone we plummeted down the other side of our hill to find ourselves in the Golden Valley. It was a nice ride and easy to see where the name might have come from. The hay and the wheat in the sun truly did transform the valley floor to gold.
From the heights we had seen the Black Mountains from afar and it seemed like we could touch the clouds. It was beautiful. Here in the Valley, cut off from such beauty and surrounded by the more mundane, it is much easier to pedal. There are, it seems, trade offs for everything.
Next Entry: Day 15. Monmouth
Previous Entry: Day 13
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