The ride from Greystoke was one of the simpler sections. We dropped down out of the lake district and had to cross the relatively flat floodplain to reach the pennines.

After some (many) sandwiches and energy bars the team set off again out of Greystoke. The first few miles of this leg were pretty much all downhill, which was well needed rest from the lakes. We continued riding from village to village until we reached Penrith. There was a slight bit of confusion with regards to the signposts here but we made it through and continued closer to the pennines.

The terrain began to move up and down a little bit more but it was nothing compared to the stages before. The only problem that occurred really was when Nick missed the turn after trying to reach a new top speed down a steep hill. We didn't laugh much when we saw him having to pedal back up! After this small mishap it seemed that the hills were definitely growing. Up and down, up and down from farm to farm. There were some awesome downhills one notable one included a bend where me and Arthur both had to run wide and almost came off.

Around 20 miles from Greystoke, Auntie Jack had a confrontation with one of the locals and insisted on walking in front of their car because of how rude they had been towards her. We all found it hilarious.

We continued the ride and the pennines slowly appeared closer and closer. Little did we know of the struggle coming up. The end of the ride was coming up but before that, the Hartside Summit. I remember turning a corner and seeing two large signs either side of the road warning motorists of the climb coming up,... slightly worrying. We reached the beginning of the final climb. At first it was ok, at one point I even turned around to meet the back of the group. But then it got worse and worse. Both Auntie Jack and Josh had to walk sections of it. There was nowhere to stop and relax. I just got into my bottom gear and pedalled. We were greeted with hairpin bends it was like a typical mountain pass. After each turn it seemed to get steeper and the actual bends themselves just killed you off each time. What made it worse was not knowing when it would end. The summit was out of sight, it was extremely demoralising.

Despite the pain however, the views were spectacular. looking to the right we could see all the way back to the beginning of the days journey: a thin sparkling sliver on the horizon behind some of the country's highest peaks. It was breathtaking.

This road made the Whinlatter pass seem like nothing. even in my lowest gear my legs were burning but there was nothing I could do. Eventually this road opened out onto a main road, presumably the one that the support crew waiting at the top had taken with the campervan. Finally, in the distance we could see the summit and there were three tiny blue dots; Mum, Dad and Sophie. It was such a good feeling seeing them there and knowing how far we had to go. But the road got worse. It seemed impossible to gauge how long it was exactly, but it was definitely a long way and it was definitely even steeper. We pedalled for ages and slowly got closer. I could hear a faint whisper of the crew cheering us on. This spurred me on. Nick was far ahead, me and Arthur were next and much further behind was Auntie Jack and Josh; they were knackered. Uncle Chris was somewhere in the the middle. As we got closer to the finish there was a split in the road: One longer, smoother way up with another hairpin bend, and one very gravelly track that was much steeper but went directly to the finish. I was so eager to reach the top and just went for it. Turning my suspension on, I grit my teeth and pedalled as hard and fast as I could. Looking back this gravel track was probably a bad decision because it was such hard work. My rear wheel could not grip and I was struggling to balance.

Finally, however, I reached the top and was greeted with the cheers from Mum and Dad and Sophie and Nick. I got to the van got off my bike and got some water down me. I had ran out at the start of the climb and was dripping with sweat. Looking back, I could see Sophie and Arthur halfway down the track, Arthur in pain on the floor and Sophie stretching his cramped calves (apparently they were sweaty). He got back on his mountain bike and proceeded to reach the top. Followed by Uncle Chris and a while later Auntie Jack and Josh. We had all done amazingly well and reached the Hartside Summit, altitude 1903 feet.

The whole team posed for photos with England's Highest Cafe (Which sadly, was closed), with the signpost and with some of the most spectacular views I have ever seen.

We were all extremely tired however and just needed to get to the hostel. Luckily it was at the bottom of a spectacular downhill that continued for miles to the village of Alston at the bottom of the valley. Clocking speeds of 40mph it was thrilling. Nick even overtook the support crew in the campervan! We got to the hostel and relaxed, even if the showers weren't the greatest. That night the whole team went to the local pub for dinner, morale was high and despite the riders having legs like jelly we were all feeling great.

Memorable moments of that night was Josh getting mardy with Arthur and Nick because he didn't have WiFi. And also lots and lots of wet farts in the boys dormitory which was a mixture of energy bars, gels and lots of Sudocream up our bums!