Cycling Past Pluto
January's guest author in the Book Room is Robert Bluck, a Zen practitioner, meditation teacher and keen cyclist.
Welcome to The Book Room!
Come on in, pull up a chair by the fire, as we talk about books and our journeys to get them written, published, and seen in the world.
The connection and support shown to me as a fledging author from the writing community have been phenomenal, so I thought that in 2025 I’d return some love to authors with newly published books and invite them to write a guest blog.
We begin this January with my good friend and neighbour, Robert Bluck, a Zen practitioner, meditation teacher and keen cyclist.
Let’s hear what Robert has to say about his writing and cycling journey and his latest book, Cycling Past Pluto.
Cycling and Scribbling - Britain’s Longest Bike Ride
It all began in 2012. Inspired by cyclists at the Olympics, I planned to ride from Land’s End to John O’Groats to raise money for a local hospice. My friend and neighbour Steve asked to come too. Neither of us had cycled much for decades, but we bought new bikes and set off. It was hard work for us MAMILS (middle-aged men in lycra) but we had a wonderful three-week adventure. Then we went cycle camping in the Outer Hebrides. Never again!
My writing was professional and academic until I retired – I wrote articles on librarianship and a published PhD on Buddhism in Britain. Then I got the creative writing bug and wrote a mystery novel, Mr Woodreeve’s Reflection set in rural Northumberland, published by crowdfunding with Unbound.
Mr Woodreeve’s Reflection is out of print, but you might, if you are lucky, find a second-hand copy somewhere!
After many adventures, the cycling and the writing started to come together, and the question was asked, How far would it be to cycle around Scotland’s wiggly coastline? (Much further than we thought.) Could we do it all in one go? (No, we’re much too old.) What if I wrote a daily account of our travels – could that be made into a successful coastal-cycling-travel book?
We tackled Scotland a fortnight at a time, with three trips beginning from Carlisle, then Fort William, and finally Thurso. I spent our café stops scribbling away to record the day’s events, including Scotland’s most spectacular hill climb, Britain’s worst road – and a dodgy hotel. Each time we came back I tried to write another chapter – and shorter sections describing our pathetic attempts to keep fit during the winter months, before heading off again. Two thousand miles later we arrived in Berwick – and decided to cycle around the coast of England and Wales as well. Why not?
The next year we planned two trips. Hull to Southampton in June, where the unseasonal rain, soaked our maps and my notebooks – I could hardly read them. Southampton to Cardiff in September – via Land’s End again – with incredibly steep hills in Devon and Cornwall. My daily scribbles became increasingly untidy as fatigue set in, and we were both completely shattered by the time we got home.
The worst bits? Riding into horizontal rain on the Applecross Pass – sea level to two thousand feet in six lung-bursting miles – that wasn’t much fun. Struggling through brambles on a flooded track near Hartlepool wasn’t at all pleasant. And we were turned away from a B&B in Felixstowe when one of us messed up the booking. (OK, it was me.)
The best bits? Whole days in wonderful scenery, from the Torridon mountains and the far north-west of Scotland to the beautiful Gower peninsula in South Wales. Excellent routes on the National Cycle Network, including off-road sections – forty miles on a disused railway line north of Aberdeen, and the canal towpath between Taunton and Bridgewater. Super cafés and tea room to stock up on cheese scones and carrot cake. A magical steam train ride to stay with dear friends in Somerset.
Every day we saw wildlife you’d miss in a car – a pine martin, a family of stoats, a young fawn bounding across a field. There were birds everywhere – buzzards and bullfinches, sparrowhawks and skylarks and swifts. Seabirds gliding past – fulmars and guillemots, razorbills and puffins – and eiders and mergansers floating on the sea below us.
We ended up giggling a lot when things didn’t quite go to plan. Riding out of Southend after a night of heavy rain, I fell off the bike in a muddy field, and we had to hose down the bikes (and me) at a garage jet wash a few miles further on. But our bikes were a joy to ride, with nothing worse than a couple of punctures in the whole journey. Our specialised machines have fourteen gears hidden in the rear hub, so we have dispensed with derailleurs.
Then Covid struck and we had two years with little cycling and not much to write home about, before setting off on the next trip from Cardiff to Lancaster. By the time we completed the last lap – a final three days from Lancaster round to Carlisle again – our average age was 70, so we were now EMILS (elderly men in lycra). After 5,000 miles of coastal cycling, I had a huge manuscript covering 80 days in half a dozen very scruffy notebooks.
The publishing process…
After lengthy editing, and pitching Cycling Past Pluto unsuccessfully to conventional publishers, I opted for self-publishing with Troubador Publishing, which has worked out well. I’ve done the copy-editing and proofreading, leaving them with the design, typesetting, printing, marketing and distribution – all beyond my capabilities. Troubadour has guided me through each stage of the publishing process – particularly helpful for a somewhat technophobic author!
Cycling Past Pluto
So what’s inside Cycling Past Pluto? A day-by-day account of cycling around the whole coastline of mainland Britain, riding through wild country and urban jungles, deep forests and industrial wasteland, struggling up unbelievable hills – and sometimes weeping with laughter. There’s helpful information on the perfect touring bike, how to get your bike onto a train, what to take with you on a bike tour, and how it’s possible to lose weight while stuffing yourself with cheese scones. Oh, and the invaluable rules of coastal cycling.
The book was going to be called The End of Every Road until I realised this would double the distance. We did not go down every little road leading to beaches and harbours!
Britain’s Longest Bike Ride seemed a bit daunting, especially as we broke it up into six fortnights, rather than tackling 5,000 miles all at once. But why Cycling Past Pluto? You’ll have to read the book to find out!
We had a lovely book launch in Cogito Bookshop in Hexham, and I’m speaking in February at Toppings Bookshop in St Andrews on Tuesday 11th February.
If you read and enjoy Cycling Past Pluto, please feel free to leave a review on the Waterstones website.
Cycling Past Pluto is available directly from Troubador Publishing (troubadour.co.uk), from your local bookshop, or signed copies by post from the author at robert.bluck12@gmail.com
… and in due course, there’ll be a Robert Bluck author website….
If you are a road cycling enthusiast or have one in your family, how about getting a copy of Cycling Past Pluto? Wishing you every success, with your book and your events, Robert! Thank you for being January’s guest author.
If you’d like a guest blog slot in The Book Room, do get in touch either by messaging me here or by my email suereedwrites@gmail.com