Day 42: Mud, mountains & Murder towels : A day in the life of the reluctant adventurer!

Today’s leg of the A42 journey from Launceston to Newquay came with its own special brand of chaos, misery, and the kind of uphill battles that make you question every life choice that led to this point. Spoiler alert: it involved a 5km incline, a rogue puncture, and drying off with a towel that had definitely seen better (read: cleaner) days.
The day started with a depressing déjà vu—same soggy road, same wrist-wrecking incline, same sense of dread. Half an hour in and the chair was slipping and spinning like a toddler on ice. And then—because why not—a puncture. Excellent.
Changing the wheel on the side of the road first thing in the morning was not on the mood board for today, especially when you’re battling terrain that seems designed more for goats than wheelchairs. Honestly, even mountain bikers would swipe left on this nonsense.
Once back on a semi-decent road, things improved marginally. Spirits were momentarily lifted by some cheerfully honking motorists (yes, I love you too), and the sheer joy of not having to wrestle with a mudslide masquerading as a road. The highlight? Smashing out the fastest 30km again and pulling off a sub-4-hour marathon time, despite the hills trying to murder my arms one incline at a time. Take that, gravity.
Now, onto accommodation. I was promised a cozy caravan experience. What I got was “Chavsville Deluxe,” complete with no towels, no proper communication, and enough distance from the others that it might as well have been a different postcode. I dried off using the towel I’d sat on all day—flavored in mud and despair—before Sharon came through with an actual towel like a guardian angel of hygiene.
Emotionally? A bit wobbly. Fatigue has properly set in, my chair's taken more hits than a piñata at a toddler’s birthday party, and the support situation has been… let’s say “patchy.” Thankfully, the girls rallied, helped with treatment, and Neil sent down tea like the culinary hero he is.
There are only three days left now, and I’m clinging to the hope that the forecast improves, the roads flatten out, and maybe, just maybe, we all get to the finish line with our sanity intact.
Here’s to less rain, more road, and an actual clean towel tomorrow.

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• Wheelchair
• Crps
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• Inspiration
• World record