Ffestiniog

To avoid a busy road, we started cycling on the outskirts of Oswestry and soon crossed the border into the second country of our Five Countries Tour: Wales.

Sunshine, albeit patchy, at last!

With luck, we'd leave the ominous clouds behind.

We enjoyed another lovely tea break in the town of Llangynog before our big climb started.

We have magical water bottles on this tour: Whenever I return to my bike after a tea break or lunch, my bottle is full. (If I pinch myself, will I wake up and find that this has all been a happy dream? Our guides are fabulous.) Though there is a slight downside to this, as the electrolyte mix that sustains me on long rides gets diluted.

The climb started right outside of town, as we would pass through the Berwyn Range.

It wasn't bad, gaining about 1,000 feet over three and a half miles. Somewhere, though, I met a 15% grade (must have been short); that's probably where my heart rate peaked at 184 bpm.

It wasn't long before I was way off the back, the rest of the group no longer in sight.

Which suited me just fine, because (at last!) I was eager to capture some photos of these peaks and valleys.

I've been feeling bad that people have to wait for me, though they're politely saying they don't mind. We were excited to snap photos at the summit, especially as we could see blue skies ahead.

A couple of our riders have been breezily passing me on the hills. They'd opted for hybrids instead of road bikes, and those were equipped with lower gearing (and disc brakes). I briefly wondered if I should have done the same, but even if I'd inquired about the groupset I know I still would have chosen the road bike. I wouldn't be comfortable at speed on the downhills, otherwise.

Oh, and about that. We crossed into Snowdonia National Park, with broad vistas and an enticing roadway—dry and smooth. Only because it leveled out a bit, and the park's logo was beautiful, did I stop [on a descent!].

We regrouped at the bottom, having reached an intersection. Our leader is mindful to keep track of us, although they're trying a new routing solution this year: each bike is outfitted with a Garmin. Every night our guides collect the units, load them up with the next day's route, and charge them. [More magic!]

Not being a Garmin aficionado, I'm leery of accidentally resetting the thing. After some teething pains the first couple of days, things began to run more smoothly. It's reassuring to get advance notice of turns and to see that you're on course, but some tricky bits (parallel roads, or cycle paths) can confuse it. And since the route is statically loaded, we need to be alert about being off-course whenever we do make a detour. The Garmins handle the miles vs. kilometers challenge nicely, as they can be set up either way.

We caught sight of Bala Lake on our way to lunch at a fun place, Gorwelion.

There was more climbing after lunch, but with the sunshine and the views, everyone was smiling.

Just look at that ribbon of road! [Okay, maybe I smiled more broadly than my companions.]

We did stop to admire a waterfall. And even though we climbed some 3,740 feet over 47 miles, we arrived at our hotel in Ffestiniog with time to enjoy the environs,

and a colorful post-dinner sunset for a beautiful close to the day.

Waddington

It was cloudy, with a threat of rain later in the day, but we finally got a break: it didn't actually rain today. While we regrouped at a turning point, I watched three bulls locking horns. The black bull and the brown bull, then the two brown bulls. They didn't seem to be at odds with one another, so I'm not sure what was up.

I was starting to feeling stronger, despite back-to-back days of cycling. My cardio is not where it should be; I'm dropped on every steep hill unless I can take advantage of a roller leading up to it. Today, at least, there was no need for me to walk (yay!)—maximum grade was about 12%. (It's pretty clear that I cross the pain threshold above 13% at my current level of unfitness.)

Our group is pretty well-matched: two riders are stronger and always in the lead, I'm generally in the back (sometimes with another rider), and the middle is elastic.

Today we left Yorkshire Dales National Park behind for the Forest of Bowland, an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty. [That's a mouthful; more commonly known as an AONB.]

It's spring, so there are lambs in the fields—including a few black ones. (Turns out that's due to a recessive gene, which was my hunch.) From deep in the recesses of my brain, the old nursery rhyme “Baa, Baa, Black Sheep” surfaced; my cycling companions enthusiastically filled in the one line I couldn't dredge up.

When we regrouped at a fork along a country road, we happened upon a few locals assembling for a ride. “You weren't cycling on Monday, were you?” they asked. Their eyes stretched wide when they heard our reply.

With the rainy weather, we've been taking our tea breaks in local pubs, so today's stop was a surprise: A picnic! Complete with tablecloth, camp chairs, tea, and snacks—including Aunt Agatha's homemade shortbread cookies, contributed by one of our riders!

We had a little time to peek into St. Peter and St. Paul's Church in Bolton-by-Bowland, with a history dating back to the 12th century.

We crossed and (many miles later) paused to admire the meandering River Ribble. It was time to start feeding my wildflower photo habit.

Today's route was our shortest, and least taxing—a mere 20 miles and 940 feet of climbing. The group made good time, and I was certainly less pathetic. Our riding ended in the town of Waddington, with an opportunity to wander before lunch. The embattled King Henry VI was captured here in the mid-fifteenth century.

How times change: from a defibrillator in a decommissioned phone booth, to a set of medieval stocks outside St. Helen's Church.

We boarded the van for our journey to Oswestry, where we stayed nearby in a lovely old country house. Sheep were scattered around the surrounding fields, but when the farmer drove up they virtually stampeded to reach him and created quite a ruckus.

Not unlike hungry cyclists, perhaps, at the end of the day? Tea and fresh-baked shortbread cookies welcomed me to my room,

and my lamb burger was the envy of all at dinner. [Eat local.]