To Ludlow

August 10, 2022

We had booked ourselves for a five night stay here at the Premier Inn back when we didn’t know what to expect from my dental appointment. With that uncertainty and anxiety behind us though there’s nothing keeping us in town now. Rachael soured on Shrewsbury mostly because of the disappointing hike she picked out for herself, and I don’t know yet that Brother Cadfael was based here and that we should be visiting Shrewsbury Abbey before leaving. Two nights ago, after my appointment and before it was too late to cancel reservations, we changed our plans and cancelled the last two nights of our stay here.

The weather has seriously heated up again with today’s high predicted to be 87, and the next several days will be even worse. With a long and hilly ride to Ludlow ahead we do our best to get an early start and try to arrive before it’s too hot. We do well by getting on the road well before 8:30, when it’s still very pleasant. We make good time for the early miles, slowing down only when we come to the Shropshire Hills and the AONB that protects them. Soon enough we’re climbing - modestly at first and then more steeply, appreciating the amount of shade we have.

Before long, between the hills and the views I find more frequent reasons to stop. At the worst rhe climb registers 16% on the Garmins and I use the excuse of an oncoming car that takes the whole lane of the narrow singletrack as an excuse to hop off and push until the road crests out.

I’m sure the scenery in the Shropshire Hills AONB is outstanding, but we wouldn’t know it as the moment hemmed in by this long view-blocking holly hedge as we are.

Definitely attractive, but outstanding? Feels overrated, a bit over the top. Maybe more like just an ANB. I’m thinking the bigwigs in Shropshire must have a lot of pull with the committee that names such things.

Barn with barn swallows. Actually, this structure is pretty outstanding. I’m especially intrigued by the slant to the windows on the right.

Better and better. I think we’re looking north down the trough of the River East Onny. If so, that’s Ratlinghope Hill on the right. Picklescott would be on the far side of it, with Stiperstones and Snailbeach to the left and Pulverbatch down the center.

I’ve forgotten the map and think we’ve made it to the top here, with the 16% climb behind us the worst the day has in store for us. Heh, heh.

There’s a lot of climbing in today’s ride - 3,500’ according to RideWithGPS - and we’re glad that it’s front loaded so we can get the worst of it behind us while our legs still have some oomph in them and before it gets too hot. I’m pleased that this first ascent has gone as well as it has but then a longer, harder climb presents itself, steep enough that it finds both of us pushing more than one stretch. The cars make it worse - it’s not that there are many of them, but the road is narrow enough that there’s no choice but to dismount and stand in the weeds for each car that passes. And once we’ve stopped on an 17-20% pitch neither of us is going to saddle up again until the next crest.

Finally though we’re up, and blown away by the views and heather. It’s a far more scenic area than either of us had been expecting.

But I have correctly remembered that we’re going the right way and the descents are steeper than the climbs. Here it comes, an 18% screamer. This photo doesn’t show it but the road disappears just past the shadows.

We’re climbing once more, with the best and the worst still ahead.

Partway up I’m charmed by the bleating of a line of sheep running past me through the meadow, on a hurry to reach some exciting sheep destination. As I watch they just keep coming, a long line that forces me to pull out the camera and shoot a video. Finally, about a minute and a hundred sheep later I kill the video - when is it ever time to stop shooting a spectacle like this? - and just as I do a sheep comes out with the strangest, croakiest wail I remember hearing from a sheep and looks at me too late to capture his comical expression. I didn’t know they made sounds like this.

I think about this off and on for the rest of the ride, and am excited to view the video and share it with you. So it’s a disappointment that in fact the video is only five seconds long because I apparently screwed up. I at least captured that sound at the very end though, so that’s something at least.

Far below I hear a chorus of waterfowl and zoom in. A huge concentration in a small pond. Could this be commercial?

Well. We’re getting up near 1,500’, and starting to see patches of heather.

I’m really surprised by this. I didn’t expect to be seeing heather today, but then this is almost as high as any point we’ve been in the UK.

Well, OK then. It rates its Oh! It’s an AONB.

Cruising along the top. Truly spectacular. This would be an outstanding spot for a walk.

A perfect pair. This is the only shot I took to the east. Would those be the tops of Lawley and Caer Caradoc peeking above the ridge? These would be the other side of the same two peaks we saw on our ride to Ironbridge yesterday.

An awesome road beckons us on. They’re always even more alluring on the descent like this.

After some glorious riding through the heather at around 1,500’ we come to the descent. I tell Rachael that the worst is behind us now, which is true enough but a message that’s not well received. It’s heating up by now and even with the worst behind there’s still plenty of pain ahead. 1,000’ more climbing I’m thinking, but it’s actually another 1,500’ because RideWithGPS has missed the mark with its estimate again. Such a surprise!

First though, we have to get down - very slowly and carefully, a long 18-25% drop down a narrow, twisting singletrack road with steep drop offs and the occasional oncoming car. Oddly enough, we don’t see any oncoming bicyclists charging up the other direction.

Partway down I catch up with Rachael, stopped at and by a cattle grid. It’s sloped downwards at about 10-15%, slick, and the slats are spaced far enough apart that she’s fearful her smaller feet will slip through. She’s more or less paralyzed partway through so I park my bike, take hers from her so she can cross unburdened, and then wheel hers and then mine across, feeling more secure supported by the size 12 planks at the bottom of my legs.

Dropping off the edge of the earth. We’re at about -20% here and it’s still steepening. We’re going very slowly.

In fact, with one foot out of the stirrups she’s nearly walking. Scary stuff.

So we’re safely down from the worst of it, but we’re still 20 miles from Ludlow with a lot of work still ahead. Nothing like we’ve seen earlier, but enough. By the time we finally make it to the outskirts of Ludlow we’re both pretty sick of hills, dismounting and pushing up anything that’s at all serious, and more than ready to stop at the first refreshment stand we come to.

It’s a huge relief when the curve breaks and we’re dropping at a more reasonable -10% now. I’ve been telling her that the worst is behind us now, which is true as far as it goes.

Video sound track: Wild Mountain Thyme, by James Taylor

She’s wondering if an IPA wouldn’t have been more to the point than vanilla ice cream.

Finally, we’re in town. Ludlow looks like a beautiful place as we bike in, a fact that’s doesn’t particularly interest either of us at the moment. We’re much keener in getting into our apartment, and are not amused when it’s a serious struggle to get in the front door. Our fingers are about scorched from the blistering keypad and I’ve about convinced Rachael that we should bike down the street to see if we can get into the hotel instead when someone comes out of the apartment and let’s us in so that we can at least get ourselves and our bikes in and out of the sun until we reach our host and learn the secret trick that will open the door.

Once that’s behind us though we head up to our third floor apartment, look around approvingly, and then Rachael heads to the store while I collapse on the bed in front of the fan. Before long she’s back, collapses herself, and we vegetate until time to head around the corner to the Thai restaurant we’ve booked a table at.

It’s hot. Very hot. We’ve been here for about five minutes taking turns using the keypad trying to get into our apartment building. The sun-baked keypad is even hotter and burns our fingers. We’ve called and texted the host but there’s no response yet. I’ve started lobbying for bagging the restaurant and checking out the nearby hotel, which in retrospect might have been a good idea.

Heart

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Ride stats today: 43 miles, 4,000’; for the tour: 1,751 miles, 98,600’

Today's ride: 43 miles (69 km)
Total: 1,750 miles (2,816 km)

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Comment on this entry	Comment	4

Jen RahnLove that you caught at least a bit of the unusual sheep sound!

What a day. Hope you were able to get some good rest.
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1 year ago

Bill ShaneyfeltLudlow... what came to my mind... :-)

https://adventuresofagoodman.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/Abandoned_Gas_Station-Ludlow_California_CA-Route_66-USA-Greg_Goodman-AdventuresofaGoodMan-1-min.jpg
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1 year ago

Keith Adams"... some exciting sheep destination."

A phrase I don't recall having ever encountered before. :)
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1 year ago

Scott AndersonTo Bill ShaneyfeltI haven’t heard of that one. My connection is with Port Ludlow on Puget Sound.
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1 year ago