Most 'lost' you've ever been?
Discussion
Thought this might be a interesting thread, maybe a few funny stories out there, especially in a time where we rely more and more on GPS, has there ever been a time where you were so completely lost and ended up on wholly unsuitable terrain and your ride was twice as long as you had planned?
I remember once thinking I was clever trying to navigate the Wirral Way for anybody that knows it, and decided I knew a shortcut to get to Thurstaston beach....on my road bike...in the middle of winter....ended up in the middle of a ploughed field, and at that point, I'd gone too far (and had too much pride) to turn back, so thought I could cross it no problem, thinking the beach road was 'just on the other side of that hedge'.....I must have crossed at least a mile of ploughed field, impossible to ride, so I ended up wheeling/carrying the bike, and my shoes and cleats were just completely clogged with thick mud, dog walkers in the distance looking bemused at me.
The worst of it was that I was with my missus and as a man, I was obviously on navigational duties, another reason I was NEVER turning back, she fared a little better on her hybrid and trainers so it was just pure hilarity for her to laugh at me and the mess I'd gotten us into.
I'm usually good with directions, but this was a big fail!
I remember once thinking I was clever trying to navigate the Wirral Way for anybody that knows it, and decided I knew a shortcut to get to Thurstaston beach....on my road bike...in the middle of winter....ended up in the middle of a ploughed field, and at that point, I'd gone too far (and had too much pride) to turn back, so thought I could cross it no problem, thinking the beach road was 'just on the other side of that hedge'.....I must have crossed at least a mile of ploughed field, impossible to ride, so I ended up wheeling/carrying the bike, and my shoes and cleats were just completely clogged with thick mud, dog walkers in the distance looking bemused at me.
The worst of it was that I was with my missus and as a man, I was obviously on navigational duties, another reason I was NEVER turning back, she fared a little better on her hybrid and trainers so it was just pure hilarity for her to laugh at me and the mess I'd gotten us into.
I'm usually good with directions, but this was a big fail!
counterofbeans said:
May 1991. Day 6 of a 9 day LEJOG, Gretna Green to Cardross (I think). Pissing down with rain, massive headwind all day. Got lost in Glasgow, added around 15 extra miles to an already exhausting 100+ miles. Probably my worst ever day on a bicycle.
No feeling like it in the world is there 
In 2014 I decided to "bag" all 14 hills from the Top 100 in the south east, over various rides. I did the ones that I could ride from home on the south coast, then I drove to Enfield and bagged Swains and Mott Street.
To finish I was left with 4, three up roughly in the Chilterns, and Coombe Gibbet way out west. It seemed to make sense to drive up to the Chilterns, get one, then move the car and do the remainder on the bike, but it would be about an 80 mile ride. The first part went well, and I set off with just Coombe Gibbet to do, and got down there relatively pain free. I'd picked an easy route, tried to memorise it, and made a list of towns to go through or near to get there. It felt proper rural, and because Coombe Gibbet isn't a town, I couldn't find any signs, the weather was misty, and I became unsure of where I should be. My phone was running out of charge and I was worried about running out of data, so at every junction, I would go down the hill til I got to the bottom and come back up, in the hope I was doing the right segment. I went round and round and up and down the sodding ridge on every road there was, and then I started to worry about getting back before dark as I hadn't brought lights. I had to give up in the end, and set off back for the car; when I uploaded to Strava I could see I'd done all the climbs in the area, apart from the one. So frustrating!
To finish I was left with 4, three up roughly in the Chilterns, and Coombe Gibbet way out west. It seemed to make sense to drive up to the Chilterns, get one, then move the car and do the remainder on the bike, but it would be about an 80 mile ride. The first part went well, and I set off with just Coombe Gibbet to do, and got down there relatively pain free. I'd picked an easy route, tried to memorise it, and made a list of towns to go through or near to get there. It felt proper rural, and because Coombe Gibbet isn't a town, I couldn't find any signs, the weather was misty, and I became unsure of where I should be. My phone was running out of charge and I was worried about running out of data, so at every junction, I would go down the hill til I got to the bottom and come back up, in the hope I was doing the right segment. I went round and round and up and down the sodding ridge on every road there was, and then I started to worry about getting back before dark as I hadn't brought lights. I had to give up in the end, and set off back for the car; when I uploaded to Strava I could see I'd done all the climbs in the area, apart from the one. So frustrating!
Can't remember every getting properly lost but probably been close on one or two occasions but in a similar vein to the OP I was out on a mountain bike ride on which I'd decided to take a shortcut involving a few footpaths across fields. Plan being to ride them cautiously and walk if there were any walkers to offend. Got to the last field that was rapeseed about as tall as I am (6ft3) and almost completely covering the path, trying to push the bike through it was not happening as it kept getting caught on the plants. I ended up holding my bike above my head for most of the walk through the field, luckily the bike was a decent one so fairly lightweight but still made for a good upper body work out. If anyone had been looking on then they'd have seen this bike slowing floating across a rapeseed field 
Gary29 said:
I remember once thinking I was clever trying to navigate the Wirral Way for anybody that knows it....
Don’t know if you know the path but I did exactly the same thing on Route 56 between Landican and Storeton. A section of it was closed for a few weeks so I decided to cut cross country rather than turn back. Like you I spent about an hour carrying my bike through fields of confused cows, s
t on my shoes etc. Turning back may have cost me 15 minutes. 1987, I’d be 14. Onboard a £99 Falcon Milk Race replica. I lived in Doncaster and a mate was having a day fishing approximately 20 miles away. I decided to ride over to see how he was getting on. Set off after breakfast and was heading to Crowle, messed this up and ended up continuing on the A18 over Keadby Bridge and onwards. I had a notion that I’d buggered the job up but as I’d been this way previously on a club run I cracked on and got to the Humber Bridge. A cherry coke and a Tracker bar later I was on my way home. No clue where I was, followed my nose and got back to base about tea time. My legs completely fell off 20 miles to go. My Dad was equally fuming/quite proud & we used a AA roadmap and a bit of string to plot my route and reckoned it was a touch over 100 miles. I’m 46 now, still ride lots but this day is cemented in the memory as one of the best.
Can't recall being properly "lost", but had a scary moment on my longest ever ride. I'd done Farnborough to Bournemouth, seen the Red arrows at the air Festival, and rode back again. Had taken too long getting ready in the morning so was running out of time to ride my planned route back through the New Forest on minor roads. Ended up on the A35 to Lyndhurst. Got back onto the "out" route after Romsey, on through Winchester, and then, while in an area I'd only ridden once before, my Garmin battery died! The only time I'd ridden it was in the opposite direction in daylight earlier that day, but things look different in the dark, and differenter still coming at them from the opposite direction. I made it in the end, but there were several extra miles on top of the route that my now-dead Garmin was loaded with. Eventually I got to roads I recognised, though, and after that it was plain sailing, save for fielding worried phone-calls from my lovely wife.
Aside from that, I like to deliberately get myself "lost" now and then. If I'm bored with the same old routes time and again, I'll wait until I get to a road I've never ridden before and start playing the 'Left Right Game'. Good fun, nice to chill out with route planning off on the GPS, and you get to see places you'd otherwise miss out on. Sometimes it has resulted in new "regular" routes for me too.
Aside from that, I like to deliberately get myself "lost" now and then. If I'm bored with the same old routes time and again, I'll wait until I get to a road I've never ridden before and start playing the 'Left Right Game'. Good fun, nice to chill out with route planning off on the GPS, and you get to see places you'd otherwise miss out on. Sometimes it has resulted in new "regular" routes for me too.
Two stories.
First one, I'd missed my train back to Oxford from London. Seeing the price of a replacement ticket, I mounted my trusty steed and left Paddington station. Of course, being minded to conserve phone battery, I decided that it would be a fantastic idea to follow the road signs. Within half a mile I was on the A40 Westway. Oops. After coming off at the next exit, I promptly got lost in Shepherd's Bush. Eventually, I headed for Marylebone and caught a train.
The other one was when I was taking my bike on the train home, because the nearest station is 4 miles away. It transpired that there was a bus replacement from Salisbury down to Exeter. Consequently, I was ditched in Salisbury, late on a Sunday night, now suddenly with a 40 mile ride ahead of me. The sudden nature meant that my lights were half charged, and I didn't have any water. To make matters worse, I ended up doing a lap of Salisbury town centre looking for the A30 (as it was the fastest route home). After going around in a circle, I decided to instead follow the A354 to Blandford, as I knew how to get home from Blandford.
Fortunately, my front light only ran out about a mile from home, on a tiny country road, at 3am. I know the back lanes well enough to ride them blind, it turns out.
First one, I'd missed my train back to Oxford from London. Seeing the price of a replacement ticket, I mounted my trusty steed and left Paddington station. Of course, being minded to conserve phone battery, I decided that it would be a fantastic idea to follow the road signs. Within half a mile I was on the A40 Westway. Oops. After coming off at the next exit, I promptly got lost in Shepherd's Bush. Eventually, I headed for Marylebone and caught a train.
The other one was when I was taking my bike on the train home, because the nearest station is 4 miles away. It transpired that there was a bus replacement from Salisbury down to Exeter. Consequently, I was ditched in Salisbury, late on a Sunday night, now suddenly with a 40 mile ride ahead of me. The sudden nature meant that my lights were half charged, and I didn't have any water. To make matters worse, I ended up doing a lap of Salisbury town centre looking for the A30 (as it was the fastest route home). After going around in a circle, I decided to instead follow the A354 to Blandford, as I knew how to get home from Blandford.
Fortunately, my front light only ran out about a mile from home, on a tiny country road, at 3am. I know the back lanes well enough to ride them blind, it turns out.
Edited by Solocle on Thursday 13th June 01:30
See if you can spot where, on this solo C2C (west to East) I forgot that the cycle route number changes. Then see if you can spot where I realised my error 
As I realised what I'd done, I cycled round in a circle on an empty road for a couple of minutes trying to decide whether to to continue and finish up somewhere way south of where I planned, or to head back to the correct route as intended. There was really only one option. That option required me to ride up Hartside in the rain. It was a welcome pie and chips but I was relieved to be back on the right track. In total it added about 25 miles to the ride.
whoops I could have cropped it more tightly
As I realised what I'd done, I cycled round in a circle on an empty road for a couple of minutes trying to decide whether to to continue and finish up somewhere way south of where I planned, or to head back to the correct route as intended. There was really only one option. That option required me to ride up Hartside in the rain. It was a welcome pie and chips but I was relieved to be back on the right track. In total it added about 25 miles to the ride.
whoops I could have cropped it more tightly
In the 1990's I cycled LEJOG with a group of private school girls. (about the best 2 weeks of my life) 
we did 100 miles days- camped each night. Impressive for teenagers I must say. After a night in Aviemore- we set off (4 different groups- pre mobile phone days etc).
we had prepared photocopies of a road map to follow. each day a pen inked the route out. the route was marked wrongly- but it was important we all followed it for safety and we also had a van wandering on the route in case of issues as it was a big group.
that mistake added 30 miles plus to the 100 mile day. hell of a detour and addition to already long days.
we forget life before instant GPS, texting, contact !!!!!!!!!!! nothing you can do, but keep going and head to the pre-arranged meeting points.
what a long day !
we did 100 miles days- camped each night. Impressive for teenagers I must say. After a night in Aviemore- we set off (4 different groups- pre mobile phone days etc).
we had prepared photocopies of a road map to follow. each day a pen inked the route out. the route was marked wrongly- but it was important we all followed it for safety and we also had a van wandering on the route in case of issues as it was a big group.
that mistake added 30 miles plus to the 100 mile day. hell of a detour and addition to already long days.
we forget life before instant GPS, texting, contact !!!!!!!!!!! nothing you can do, but keep going and head to the pre-arranged meeting points.
what a long day !
When I was 14 I rode down the wrong side of a mountain in France leading me to being a significant distance from where I was but more importantly, completely lost. Having not planned on going any distance at all I did not have water or money and this was way before mobile phones. I decided to drop in to a French farm to ask for directions. The door was answered by a stunning 18 year old french girl who spoke no English at all. It was like a scene out of Love Actually as I tried to sign that I was dying of dehydration.
She was fantastic and helped me out to the point she even drove me back to my chalet. As was typical back then, when I told my mother she could not be less bothered.
She was fantastic and helped me out to the point she even drove me back to my chalet. As was typical back then, when I told my mother she could not be less bothered.
It's a toss up between two.
2013-ish I was riding in the Alps with the eldest who would have been about 8 at the time. We were staying in Morzine but had been riding the Greens and Blues in Les Gets Bike Park. Usually I'd use the road from Les Gets to Morzine, it's a boring but downhill all the way, but not with an 8 year old. 40Mph is pretty easy on that road, even on an MTB, add in nature of Alpine roads and the fact it was largely used by Brits on the 'wrong side' and the odd local nutter I took the XC route over the top of the valley. I knew the way, I know the way now. In my mind's eye I can ride the route now. I think it was the fact that after years of almost no sign posting, they'd posted it and classified it 'Red' that I decided I know an easier way for a young lad on a kids bike with small wheels and rim brakes.
20 mins later and I'm begging him to brake or turn as we're riding down something so steep that my arse is about the find the back tyre, he'd behind me grabbing the brakes 4 fingered as hard as he can. At the last moment I caught a glimpse of how close he was to me, let go of my brakes to makes some room (and work out how the hell I was going to stop later) but his front tyre tapped my rear and he passed me, mid-air, whilst calling me an idiot for getting us lost.
I didn't. 3 hours later, no water, no food we finally arrived back in Morzine, when my son promptly emptied himself from both ends (in the toilet thankfully) as a result of the bucket of muscles he'd insisted on eating the night before, he'd held it for hours, not wanting to st in the woods.
2nd was only a few months ago, Feb I think. I was night-riding Afan with a mate, the weather was bad before we started, but just got worse and it was hammering down and blowing a gale. I was fairly relaxed about the whole thing, I know Afan pretty well. Until it dawned on use that visibility was about 2-3 metres and "shouldn't we have made the gate for the next section by now?" With the lights on, all you saw was rain, with them off you saw nothing. Thankfully some bright spark had fitted the signposts with reflective tape and we found it. It was not the night for rough camping.
2013-ish I was riding in the Alps with the eldest who would have been about 8 at the time. We were staying in Morzine but had been riding the Greens and Blues in Les Gets Bike Park. Usually I'd use the road from Les Gets to Morzine, it's a boring but downhill all the way, but not with an 8 year old. 40Mph is pretty easy on that road, even on an MTB, add in nature of Alpine roads and the fact it was largely used by Brits on the 'wrong side' and the odd local nutter I took the XC route over the top of the valley. I knew the way, I know the way now. In my mind's eye I can ride the route now. I think it was the fact that after years of almost no sign posting, they'd posted it and classified it 'Red' that I decided I know an easier way for a young lad on a kids bike with small wheels and rim brakes.
20 mins later and I'm begging him to brake or turn as we're riding down something so steep that my arse is about the find the back tyre, he'd behind me grabbing the brakes 4 fingered as hard as he can. At the last moment I caught a glimpse of how close he was to me, let go of my brakes to makes some room (and work out how the hell I was going to stop later) but his front tyre tapped my rear and he passed me, mid-air, whilst calling me an idiot for getting us lost.
I didn't. 3 hours later, no water, no food we finally arrived back in Morzine, when my son promptly emptied himself from both ends (in the toilet thankfully) as a result of the bucket of muscles he'd insisted on eating the night before, he'd held it for hours, not wanting to s
t in the woods. 2nd was only a few months ago, Feb I think. I was night-riding Afan with a mate, the weather was bad before we started, but just got worse and it was hammering down and blowing a gale. I was fairly relaxed about the whole thing, I know Afan pretty well. Until it dawned on use that visibility was about 2-3 metres and "shouldn't we have made the gate for the next section by now?" With the lights on, all you saw was rain, with them off you saw nothing. Thankfully some bright spark had fitted the signposts with reflective tape and we found it. It was not the night for rough camping.
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