Damp, cool, level riding along another railway path out of Keswick, criss-crossing the River Greta in wooded valleys. There was some cumbersome wiggling on side roads to avoid the main road into Penrith; we lunched on baked spuds in a caff in the market.
I was struggling up the long hill to Hartside, and its legendary hilltop cafe 580m high. Too much wine last night. I pushed up the bridleway, getting slower and slower, with a thumping head and queasy gut.
Once at the top, though, the clouds and my head cleared, the Vale of Eden was laid out below us, and my appetite suddenly returned. There was a strong feeling of watershed, billowing green vales behind us, and rugged, bare Pennine hills in front of us.
The long downhill to our hostel in Alston on the main road was a swooping delight, and the market town itself had a 1950s feel, all sepia tones and blocky, grainy textures, on a backdrop of hills lit up by the evening sun in biscuit colours.
Miles today: 42
Miles since Whitehaven: 80