For those not used to Doric, the word drookit means thoroughly wet and miserable. Yesterday was drookit, which was sad as the route took me over some of the finest South Lake District scenery and back into the northern end of the Yorkshire Dales.
Anyone in the UK will know that it has been unseasonably wet and cold, and I was very glad to have got through Lincolnshire before the floods had struck there. It had rained heavily in Barrow overnight and there were plenty of deep puddles to navigate around (bikes tend not to go through as floods can hide some pretty large potholes)
The route was mostly surrounded by hedges or woods for which I was grateful as they gave me shelter from the mostly northerly (head) wind. I failed to get a photo on the second ferry crossing of the journey (across Windermere) being partly fascinated by the blue bin liners being worn by two of the other cyclists on the crossing, and partly struggling to put back on my waterproof trousers as I was getting cold.
Down Memory Lane 