Ten: Lincolnshire: Louth to Gedney. - Lookin For John Fairweather - CycleBlaze

June 16, 2013

Ten: Lincolnshire: Louth to Gedney.

It was raining again, drumming on the tent when I awoke before five. Yesterday evening the sky was cloudless blue, how the weather changes so fast. Though I didn't have to get up yet. I slept again and the next I knew it was 6.19 on looking at my watch. It had stopped raining and the sun was warming up and drying the tent, as I'd remembered to place the tent on the east side of a hedgerow.

I descended into Louth, past an impressive church, then followed the signs for Boston. The A16 may at most other times have been a busy road, but before eight on a Sunday morning there was next to no traffic.

Church in Louth.
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Shop window, Louth.
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I saw a B road split off three miles out of town at a place called Haugham which was timeless though little more than an old church and a farm with ancient red-brick barns. The road continued through the Wolds and straightaway descended down only to ascend again. I'd climbed up a steep rise, then there was a reprieve for a bit. Ahead I saw a group of cyclist in bright yellow tops assembled at a crossroads. When I'd reached them, they had lightly packed rear-panniers and more were arriving, pushing bikes out through a wicket gate from a house hidden from the road by the hedgerow. Then I saw the YHA sign. I could've had company as for the next nine miles to Horncastle, I could hear them chat every time the road went up as their stronger riders began closing in behind.

I arrived in Horncastle and turned for Boston; thence the terrain immediately went snooker table flat with no field boundaries at the roadside. One long straight was tree lined either side, looking somewhat continental. The final few miles into Boston was along a dyke, like a canal where men were sitting on the bank all-along the way fishing.

Old.
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Red brick.
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Another old poster.
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I had a quick look around; then lunch, a kebab while sitting outside the church railings, then a coffee; today in Café Nero, so I could upload photos to the journal.

The lorry-driver in the seat next took an interest in my netbook. "I admit a don't know much about computers. But a would be lost without my iphone" he said and went on to explain how he uses a special map-tracking system when he's driving. The lanky young man in the other seat next me was looking up from his laptop now. He began talking computers as he'd all the knowledge concerning computers, supposedly. He went on to talk on a range of subjects; from his Great Uncle that had emigrated to California in the early 1900s, to road accidents and the law. But his favourite subject as it showed in his enthusiasm was cycling. He was a triathlete, but complained that it was hard for him to get entries for races, as his work with the church meant he travelled a lot. He did offer to give me a tour up to the top of the church steeple, from where he claimed you can see as far as Lincoln. I declined as I said I needed to get my work on the journal done and get back on the road before it got to late, to which, he showed me on his phone, Cycle-Route 1 for my way onwards, explaining where to turn and peculiarities of the itinerary.

Old windmill on the way into Boston.
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Boston Centre.
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A Dyke.
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Haven't read that book.
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Peas.
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Road junction in Holand County.
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Red brick seems to be the traditional building material.
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Expenditure total: £12.23

In Boston

Kebab lunch: £4.20

Cafe Nero: Americano £2.30: Latte: £2.70

Co-Opertive shop: £3.03

Today's ride: 97 km (60 miles)
Total: 940 km (584 miles)

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