My new job meant working shifts and I’d come home for the weekend. My next shift started at 4.30pm on the Sunday in question. I decided that my wife needed the car more than I, with a young family, and so I decided to cycle to Wallasey.
I set off in high spirits on that lovely day and was soon off the Pennines and on the A580 East Lancs. Road, pedalling into a prevailing West wind. Travelling that road in a car seems quite flat and easy, but on a bike cycling into the wind, I felt every rise in the road and wished I’d bought a bike with more gears. Mine had five gears and with every little hill, I wished I’d bought one with ten gears; after all, five gears had been ample in the hills of Yorkshire! I pedalled on getting more and more tired, the total journey was 90–100 miles. After 70 miles I felt I’d hit the wall, a bit like the 20-mile mark in a marathon when you have another six to go. As I checked my watch I got more and more worried; would I make it in time?
Then I saw the tall buildings of Liverpool on the skyline and it spurred me on, a bit like the light at the end of the tunnel. I kept checking my watch; would I make it in time? Would there be a ferry on time to “Cross the Mersey!” I was in luck, the ferry was there and with a sense of relief I boarded it, made it to my temporary flat in Wallasey, got cleaned up and changed, and then cycled the last five miles to work on time!
A journey of highs and lows, of hope and expectation, and some depression - a bit like life itself.
By Ieuan Jones