Day 68: Saturday, 16 July 1983

Start: Campground, Wimborne, UK

End: Campground, Cholterton, UK

Perhaps it can be attributed to the pubs last night, but I ended up riding mostly in circles today.

Reached Stonehenge around 12:30. Tried to convince the ticket salesperson that it belonged to my family, the Stones, so I should get a discount. Perhaps my humor doesn't translate well in these parts. 

Stonehenge was on my do-not-miss list, and I'm glad I spent time there, but it was a little disappointing. Crawling with tourists. (Well, it is a Saturday.) Rocks fenced in. Visitors fenced out. Memorable, but not quite as dramatic as I had anticipated. Of course, silly me, I'm hooked on WWII stuff, not prehistoric monoliths. I spent awhile hanging out. Rested. Bought a couple of postcards. Mapped out my afternoon ride.

It was hot, damn hot, all day. Because I can comprehend what everyone around me is saying -- a whole new experience -- I gather this part of the UK is in for a few days of unusually high temperatures. I decided to shoot for a nearby campground and find some shade. The campground marked on my map turned out to be non-existent. The map showed nothing else, and no likely sites turned up as I trolled around, not making much forward progress. Finally got a tip on what was said to be the only one in these parts, back the way I'd come. Doubled back several miles and found it. A bed and breakfast with a patch of worn lawn. Campers welcome to pitch a tent on the lawn for a small fee. No shade. No shower. It was evening and still hot, so I grabbed a few square feet of dying grass for the June Bug.

Learned something new today. Unless you're at a pub in the evening, it's damn hard to stop along the road and get a beer. Apparently you can't just stroll into an establishment and buy a drink unless you're a guest there. I need to look into this further. If true, it's a damn poor way to run a country, and I might feel compelled to write a letter to Parliament. Here, with my June Bug erected on the lawn, I'm a guest, and they're glad to draw me a pint.

I spent the next couple of hours sitting inside the B&B -- the only shade within sight -- nursing a couple of beers. After a very sweaty day pedaling, I was absolutely stinking, but no campground showers. A fastidious middle-aged couple, guests at the B&B, sat in the chairs next to me for their pints. Very affable and chatty, but they kept edging away from me whenever I leaned toward them. 

Aroma of the road.

Conditions 

Distance: 90 km 

Weather: Very hot and humid 

Road: Good, but still facing the wrong way 

Traffic: Mostly light, but heavy around Stonehenge 

Terrain: Mostly flat 

Mechanical: All is wellPhysical: 

Feeling strong, smelling strong