Eggs, Bacon & Avocado

I remember when we first purchased a TomTom GPS sat nav for our car. I used to joke that it saved our marriage. Now our marriage is being tested again.

Most weekends start benignly enough with a few tentative suggestions about where to go and what to do. We usually leave the house still knowing only very roughly where we are going (North Wales, Yorkshire Dales or Lake District, etc) and how we are going to explore the area (hiking or biking). I don’t do detail. That’s Lisa’s thing, I just like to enjoy the ride.

Typically, we read trail reviews en route, come to an agreement, download the map, punch in a postcode and Bingo! We are sorted – at least until we arrive. Typically, we get lost on the trail. Typically, I blame Lisa. Typically, Lisa blames her phone, or her All Trails app, or both. My phone is dying… My battery pack isn’t charging… The map is confusing… I could of course do it myself but I couldn't navigate my way down a one-way street if my life depended on it.

We knew this trail was going to be a challenging one. 40K up and down in the Dales off road on our bikes. We’ve been stepping up our adventures, slowly, since Lisa’s surgery but you never quite know what you are in for with these trips.

The town was old and picturesque with a mixture of retirees and hipsters buzzing around boutique shops. There was a café advertising Eggs, Bacon & Avocado for breakfast (which I thought was a hilarious attempt to appeal to old locals and trendy visitors alike) and a bicycle shop which, rather ominously, sold mostly e-bikes.

The ride was beautiful but gruelling and taking much longer than expected. About half-way through we decided to take a shortcut to avoid what looked like a pointless climb. The shortcut led nowhere and, as usual, we were lost. Worse still, Lisa’s phone was dying and the backup charger was spent. The perfect storm was brewing. I’m down to 16% she observed... I have a pain in my stomach she later added… You're going to have to go back and get the car she eventually conceded as we ground to a halt.

All I have for navigation on my phone is Google Maps, which indicated that the old town was about 40 minutes away. Shouldn’t be too hard, I thought, at least we’re on a road, albeit a small one. The road was steep and I climbed for what seemed like an eternity but as I reached the summit the most horrible thought in the history of horrible thoughts entered my mind. I have thought this thought many times but never with such horror: where's my car key? I didn’t even have to search. I remembered clearly, with a deep groan, giving the key to Lisa when we set off on our adventure, for no good reason other than I couldn’t be bothered opening my backpack. Back to the patient I went, at least it was downhill.

Take Two. The climb feels harder second time round and then Google tells me to turn right, indicating an even steeper climb up an even smaller road. Once at the second summit, a beautiful plateau welcomes me but all too soon Google has other ideas: turn left. Left? What left? There is no left! On closer inspection I spot an old gate and the slightest of paths beyond it leading through a field of sheep. I can’t take any chances. I have no choice but to obey the voice.

Sheep usually run away when you enter a field, these sheep encircled me, fascinated perhaps by their peculiar visitor or maybe, like me, they were lost and in need of guidance. I continued to follow Google’s commands dutifully to go straight - until I arrived at a wall, that is. A big stone wall with a very small opening. Too small for a bike and the first of many I subsequently had to climb to reach my goal.

Back in town I still had to find the car, which is no small task for me. Battered, bruised and exhausted I wandered round aimlessly hoping that something would trigger a memory. Then I saw it. A big, beautiful, slightly pretentious sign: Eggs, Bacon & Avocado and, beyond it, a slightly portentous e-bike shop. That's why details matter, I guess. Still, at least I knew where my car was from here.

I don’t know whether the moral of this story is ‘always follow instructions’ or ‘always follow your own path’ as both have their ups and downs. I suppose it depends on the authority of the voice in your ear and the quality of the local knowledge in your head. Without either, we get lost.

Postscript

In case you are wondering, Lisa was still alive when I eventually returned to her. To that end, you will also be pleased to read that I am now waiting on the delivery Garmin bike computer. It may save our marriage, it may save our lives, it may just help us enjoy the next ride.