Melvich - John O'Groats (Saturday)
Total miles 45.17; total ascent 2198 feet; average speed 11.7mph; max speed 34.7mph; total time in saddle 3 hours 51 minutes.
So this was it. The culmination of a sixteen day journey that had taken me and Russ, a bloke I hardly knew before we started, over nearly 1100 miles. We had stayed in 15 different B&Bs/Guesthouses/hotels, all sharing a room and had not had a cross word between us (well I think I might have raised my voice a bit on day 3 after 95 miles and a destination arrival of after 10pm!) I guess we were bonded together by a common purpose and one that we were both utterly determined to achieve. I think we'd got on tremendously well actually, been incredibly supportive to each other when we needed to be, been respectful of each other's space, had a mutual respect of each other and above all a very similar sense of humour. Furthermore and let's be honest here, saddle sore arses and the need to apply arse cream at various times whilst hiding behind various bushes, walls etc sort of brings you together which ever way you look at it!
Our B&B host served up a decent breakfast of scrambled eggs, smoked salmon and oatcakes and with only 45 off miles to cover we deliberately enjoyed a leisurely start.
The weather was decent, much better than we had become accustomed to in bonny Scotland, good periods of sunshine although it was inevitable that there would be some showers, although this didn't dampen our spirits.
The A836 offered up a long steady climb initially, after which we enjoyed a wonderful sweeping a fast decent into Reay, where I saw Russ pull off in front of me to stop outside the Spar. Not only did we get a few provisions, but also Russ wanted to adjust his back brakes. He'd had new blocks fitted before we started and it was interesting to see them now with only a matter of millimetres left. I guess the weight he was carrying combined with a heavier bike had taken its toll. After a moment of panic when he thought he'd snapped the cable (oh that would have been ironic, so near but a major problem with only a matter of miles to go, I started thinking about our options, me riding and completing and then going back and lending him my bike perhaps...) we were off again.
The most northerly, and not at all inspiring town of Thurso came and went with Russ coming within a couple of inches of being taken out by a four by four driver who simply didn't see him. I wondered again whether we really were going to make it unscathed...we still hadn't had a puncture between us.
I was in regular contact with Larri, who after a drive from our home by Stansted Airport in Essex had driven to Perth on Friday and was making the final push to JoG as we cycled. It was important we didn't arrive before her and we therefore took an excursion to Dunnet Head, the most northerly part of the UK to ensure she did in fact get there before us in time to ready her iphone video and camera!
Eventually we rode into JoG, Larri, bless her we there to video the event, it was so good to just see her after all this time. We had the obligatory pictures in front of the signpost and watched in semi amazement as there seemed to be a steady stream of bikes, tandems, motorbikes arriving, each at the end of their own adventure. Smiles and congratulations all round, we celebrated with a coffee and then a beer before fixing the bike rack to the BMW and Larri drove us to the Navigale House Hotel where we were finally able to properly crash out, drink beer and come to terms with what we had actually achieved.
I shall write more soon, say some really important ‘thank yous’ and post some ludicrous statistics thanks to my Garmin GPS, but for the time being I just needed to tell you all we made it. We bloody well made it! We made it a day earlier than we had anticipated and all in the entire trip had passed by relatively smoothly.
As I write this a day after our 12 hour car journey home, I almost feel a bit numb. I can't really conceive or come to terms with what we have just done. I'm back to work tomorrow and given the morass of issues that will involve from the moment I walk in, I wonder whether our trip will ever really sink in? I fear that perhaps forevermore it will seem merely like a huge dream, with only my blog ramblings to confirm that it actually happened.
All there is really to say now, it to echo what Ally had written by John O’Groats on the map she had prepared for us - PHEW !!
Finally I think I'd like to dedicate this trip to Larri. She has been so brilliantly supportive and quietly encouraging just when I needed it. She has never once been critical of what we were trying to do, although I think for a while she thought us to be mad! She has put up with my moments of stress, doubt and accompanying moodiness. And above all, she undertook the huge task of driving 750 miles on her own to see us cross the finish line, shepherd us to the hotel she had booked and arranged, and then share the driving back home again. Thank you my most gorgeous and wonderful wife x
Monday, 30 May 2011
Sunday, 29 May 2011
Day 15 - Pleasure Personified
Lairg - Melvich (Friday)
Total miles 58.17; total ascent 2615 feet; average speed 11.0mph; max speed 36.6mph; total time in saddle 5 hours 3 minutes.
What a difference a day makes.
After a really good night’s sleep, we breakfasted, stocked up at the local Spar and set off around 9.30. The forecast was for a good morning but rain mid afternoon and this was 100% accurate. Essentially it’s about 100 miles from Lairg to JoG, and we decided to do nearly 60 today with a small final run tomorrow, when Larri is also due to arrive and hopefully cheer usover the finish line!
The morning/early afternoon’s riding was probably the best we’ve done on the trip. We took the A836 north from Lairg, which, within 4 miles becomes the trademark Scottish single lane with passing places. You know that when this happens the surrounding countryside will be wild and generally everything will feel remote and this was exactly the case today. Although there was no sun, the clouds were high in the sky and visibility excellent. There was also no wind whatsoever so conditions were perfect for us.
The A836 makes a gradual ascent to around 800 feet from a start in Lairg of around 100 feet, so it’s steady climbing for the first hour or so. The scenery was spectacular, we passed through peat bogs, logging areas, woodland, it was bleak but somehow comforting to see and experience so much of the great outdoors untouched by man. The odd car passed by but by and large we felt splendidly isolated and marveled at the wonderful vistas surrounding us.
When we did enter the infrequent areas of population I felt like a cowboy riding into town after a successful bounty hunt. Great stuff!
At Altnaharra we took the B873 and had the most fabulous, largely downhill run. - the best for me of the trip so far. From 800 feet we gradually descended over a distance of nearly 25miles and averaged just short of 15mph. The road surface was perfect and the whole experience splendidly remote. I’d recommend this piece of road to anyone with a bike.
We passed through tiny Hamlets, one in particular Crask, consisted of a farmhouse, a small bungalow and an Inn. Nothing more. Sheep and their lambs grazed at the roadside and Loch Naver was beautiful, everything Loch Ness is, but smaller and far more unspoilt by tourists and the thunder of traffic.
Eventually we rejoined the A836 and turned left to effectively traverse the north of Scotland. The sea came into view and I for the first time the magnitude of what we are about to achieve began to dawn on me. As we descended into seaside village of Bettyhill and saw the road climb up the cliff the other side we could have been back in Cornwall two weeks ago to the day. A huge stretch of golden beach with waves crashing down, a small café and hotel served to further strengthen the uncanny likeness, hard to comprehend that Cornwall was some 850 miles below us as the crow flies!
Speaking of miles was passed the 1000 mark today and, all told, the journey should clock in at around 1060. This is all the more remarkable when I consider that my general fitness seems to have improved as we have got into week two and I seem to have got through completely unscathed by fatigue to knees, shoulders etc and other such cycling related aliments (arse issues aside of course).
So as I write this on the bed at our guesthouse in Malvich, I contemplate completing this amazing challenge tomorrow. I’m not actually sure it will sink in for a while just what we have achieved and it might actually take a day or so to adjust to not having to cycle to a specific destination. I am proud of myself though, very proud, because right up until this moment I’ve never really dared to allow myself to believe that we will achieve this challenge.
PS if you are following this Blog and haven’t already, please pay a visit to my Just Giving page www.justgiving.com/Giles-Bowes – amazingly I have bust the target of £1100, but perhaps we might make £1500?
Total miles 58.17; total ascent 2615 feet; average speed 11.0mph; max speed 36.6mph; total time in saddle 5 hours 3 minutes.
What a difference a day makes.
After a really good night’s sleep, we breakfasted, stocked up at the local Spar and set off around 9.30. The forecast was for a good morning but rain mid afternoon and this was 100% accurate. Essentially it’s about 100 miles from Lairg to JoG, and we decided to do nearly 60 today with a small final run tomorrow, when Larri is also due to arrive and hopefully cheer usover the finish line!
The morning/early afternoon’s riding was probably the best we’ve done on the trip. We took the A836 north from Lairg, which, within 4 miles becomes the trademark Scottish single lane with passing places. You know that when this happens the surrounding countryside will be wild and generally everything will feel remote and this was exactly the case today. Although there was no sun, the clouds were high in the sky and visibility excellent. There was also no wind whatsoever so conditions were perfect for us.
The A836 makes a gradual ascent to around 800 feet from a start in Lairg of around 100 feet, so it’s steady climbing for the first hour or so. The scenery was spectacular, we passed through peat bogs, logging areas, woodland, it was bleak but somehow comforting to see and experience so much of the great outdoors untouched by man. The odd car passed by but by and large we felt splendidly isolated and marveled at the wonderful vistas surrounding us.
When we did enter the infrequent areas of population I felt like a cowboy riding into town after a successful bounty hunt. Great stuff!
At Altnaharra we took the B873 and had the most fabulous, largely downhill run. - the best for me of the trip so far. From 800 feet we gradually descended over a distance of nearly 25miles and averaged just short of 15mph. The road surface was perfect and the whole experience splendidly remote. I’d recommend this piece of road to anyone with a bike.
We passed through tiny Hamlets, one in particular Crask, consisted of a farmhouse, a small bungalow and an Inn. Nothing more. Sheep and their lambs grazed at the roadside and Loch Naver was beautiful, everything Loch Ness is, but smaller and far more unspoilt by tourists and the thunder of traffic.
Eventually we rejoined the A836 and turned left to effectively traverse the north of Scotland. The sea came into view and I for the first time the magnitude of what we are about to achieve began to dawn on me. As we descended into seaside village of Bettyhill and saw the road climb up the cliff the other side we could have been back in Cornwall two weeks ago to the day. A huge stretch of golden beach with waves crashing down, a small café and hotel served to further strengthen the uncanny likeness, hard to comprehend that Cornwall was some 850 miles below us as the crow flies!
Speaking of miles was passed the 1000 mark today and, all told, the journey should clock in at around 1060. This is all the more remarkable when I consider that my general fitness seems to have improved as we have got into week two and I seem to have got through completely unscathed by fatigue to knees, shoulders etc and other such cycling related aliments (arse issues aside of course).
So as I write this on the bed at our guesthouse in Malvich, I contemplate completing this amazing challenge tomorrow. I’m not actually sure it will sink in for a while just what we have achieved and it might actually take a day or so to adjust to not having to cycle to a specific destination. I am proud of myself though, very proud, because right up until this moment I’ve never really dared to allow myself to believe that we will achieve this challenge.
PS if you are following this Blog and haven’t already, please pay a visit to my Just Giving page www.justgiving.com/Giles-Bowes – amazingly I have bust the target of £1100, but perhaps we might make £1500?
Friday, 27 May 2011
Day 14 - Misery Personified
Inverness – Lairg
Total miles 63.86; toal ascent 2634 feet; average speed 9.3mph; max speed 24.3mph; total time in saddle 6 hours 52 minutes.
Today was a miserable day.
When we awoke at around 7.45 it was grey and drizzling. In fact from the moment we set off from the guesthouse to about 15 minutes before we arrived in Lairg is rained, in varying degrees and heaviness.
Everything seemed to take longer than ever. Stocking up in M&S Inverness we met queues. Finding the NCN route 1 out of the city and across the Kussock Bridge to a while and it was almost inconceivable that by 1pm we had barely covered 20 miles.
It’s quite funny really, weather wise it wasn’t anywhere near as foul or dramatic as Monday, but somehow it was more debilitating, more energy and spirit sapping.
I wore the waterproof trousers Anne from the Fort William guesthouse lent me . They kept the rain out for sure and for that I was grateful, but they have thick seams that run right across my knees and peddling constantly rubs against my kneecaps. In the end, with about 10 miles to go, I took them off as I couldn’t bear the uncomfortableness any longer.
We ate lunch sheltering under trees somewhere on a stretch of road that we both agreed was the most trying of the entire trip. It wasn’t particularly hilly, nor was the weather any worse than the rest of the day, I just think that with our ultimate goal now so close, to have to endure a dour, dank characterless section pushed us to the edge of our patience.
My gears keep slipping too. If my chain came off once, it came off 20 times, each time marked by a massive swearing bout from me that must have upset the wildlife no end. I’m not entirely sure what’s causing it - I’m a bit loath to start tinkering too much just in case I do something terminal and jepardise the entire run. Each time I have to put the chain on my hands get oily, I have nothing to wipe them on, not even the water proof trousers which are not mine. My skin is beginning to crack badly now on my right hand, one about 10mm long on my thumb is extremely painful.
The arse cream came back out of the panniers today as well. Whilst we both apply liberally in the morning, it hasn’t needed to be used during the day for the last few days, but today we both needed it.
It’s funny though; literally as we entered Lairg at around 6.15 the sky lifted just briefly and the sun peeked through for only a matter of seconds. It’s amazing what this does for the spirit.
The Guesthouse is unusual. Win, our host, carried our panniers in, made us tea along with buns cut in half and smothered with chocolate spread – all without us even asking. Nowhere to date has this ever happened.
The remoteness and isolation of this part of the world began to hit home today. It feels different, our only company fields upon fields of sheep and small lambs running away from the bikes and cows staring ominously at us. It’s comforting in a way to know that this small island in which we live still has such vast sways of peaceful, unspoiled countryside, remote and yet accessible to those that chose to find.
And so tomorrow is our penultimate day. A leisurely 58 odd miles north up to the top of Scotland, then a right turn and stopping overnight at Malvich, ready for the final 40 odd miles on Saturday. NCN Route 1 runs from Inverness right through to JoG and is very well signposted.
Larri starts her mammoth car trip tomorrow bless her, ready to meet us on Saturday and then transport our bikes and us back to the sweaty reality of our daily drudge. I can’t wait to see her x
Total miles 63.86; toal ascent 2634 feet; average speed 9.3mph; max speed 24.3mph; total time in saddle 6 hours 52 minutes.
Today was a miserable day.
When we awoke at around 7.45 it was grey and drizzling. In fact from the moment we set off from the guesthouse to about 15 minutes before we arrived in Lairg is rained, in varying degrees and heaviness.
Everything seemed to take longer than ever. Stocking up in M&S Inverness we met queues. Finding the NCN route 1 out of the city and across the Kussock Bridge to a while and it was almost inconceivable that by 1pm we had barely covered 20 miles.
It’s quite funny really, weather wise it wasn’t anywhere near as foul or dramatic as Monday, but somehow it was more debilitating, more energy and spirit sapping.
I wore the waterproof trousers Anne from the Fort William guesthouse lent me . They kept the rain out for sure and for that I was grateful, but they have thick seams that run right across my knees and peddling constantly rubs against my kneecaps. In the end, with about 10 miles to go, I took them off as I couldn’t bear the uncomfortableness any longer.
We ate lunch sheltering under trees somewhere on a stretch of road that we both agreed was the most trying of the entire trip. It wasn’t particularly hilly, nor was the weather any worse than the rest of the day, I just think that with our ultimate goal now so close, to have to endure a dour, dank characterless section pushed us to the edge of our patience.
My gears keep slipping too. If my chain came off once, it came off 20 times, each time marked by a massive swearing bout from me that must have upset the wildlife no end. I’m not entirely sure what’s causing it - I’m a bit loath to start tinkering too much just in case I do something terminal and jepardise the entire run. Each time I have to put the chain on my hands get oily, I have nothing to wipe them on, not even the water proof trousers which are not mine. My skin is beginning to crack badly now on my right hand, one about 10mm long on my thumb is extremely painful.
The arse cream came back out of the panniers today as well. Whilst we both apply liberally in the morning, it hasn’t needed to be used during the day for the last few days, but today we both needed it.
It’s funny though; literally as we entered Lairg at around 6.15 the sky lifted just briefly and the sun peeked through for only a matter of seconds. It’s amazing what this does for the spirit.
The Guesthouse is unusual. Win, our host, carried our panniers in, made us tea along with buns cut in half and smothered with chocolate spread – all without us even asking. Nowhere to date has this ever happened.
The remoteness and isolation of this part of the world began to hit home today. It feels different, our only company fields upon fields of sheep and small lambs running away from the bikes and cows staring ominously at us. It’s comforting in a way to know that this small island in which we live still has such vast sways of peaceful, unspoiled countryside, remote and yet accessible to those that chose to find.
And so tomorrow is our penultimate day. A leisurely 58 odd miles north up to the top of Scotland, then a right turn and stopping overnight at Malvich, ready for the final 40 odd miles on Saturday. NCN Route 1 runs from Inverness right through to JoG and is very well signposted.
Larri starts her mammoth car trip tomorrow bless her, ready to meet us on Saturday and then transport our bikes and us back to the sweaty reality of our daily drudge. I can’t wait to see her x
Wednesday, 25 May 2011
Day 13
Fort William - Inverness
Total distance: 68.59 miles; total ascent 2552 feet; Ave Speed 10.2mph; Maximum speed 28.2mph; total time in saddle 6 hours 44 minutes.
I didn't sleep at all well. A disturbed night tossing and turning with mad dreams. Not I should add about our biking, but about some friends of mine who both appear to be closely involved with a couple of my favorite rock bands (!)
I was also conscious that my stomach felt distinctly unfit. As you do when half asleep, I began to assume the worst - that I had a fit of uncontrollable food poisoning and the challenge would be over. But I eventually managed to grab a tenuous hold of reality and recognise that after a substantial chinese meal, three pints of lager and a healthy slug of pure malt, perhaps it was purely a matter of over indulgence the previous evening that accounted for my rather tender state.
Breakfast was both wonderful and a struggle. Our delightful proprietor Anne, had not only washed and dried all our clothes (both biking and casual), but presented us with a table of fresh fruit and yoghurts, something I have yearned for since leaving home nearly two weeks ago. However the struggle was served to us after completion of the fruit, in the form of toasted bagel topped with cream cheese, smoked salmon and an egg, poached to perfection. I remember we had both ordered this 'specialty' when we had arrived and it seemed like a tremendous way to start the day, however, with a delicate tummy, such indulgence was a little tricky to eat with gusto!
Anne is a keen cyclist herself, having completed JoGLE last year (what we are doing but the other way round if that makes sense). She asked if she could join us for a few miles and we readily agreed.
After a trip to Tesco Metro for the usual stock up explosion of carbs and crap, I also made a quick call to Blacks to purchase a thermal base layer as the cold has been getting to me quite badly over the past couple of days.
All this diversion meant that we didn't really get going until 10am, but it was great to have Anne setting an early expansive road pace as she took the lead and navigated us towards the path that runs along side the River Lochy for the first 10 miles of our planned day's riding.
As with Rob over Exmoor, it was great to have a companion rider and Anne was full of great information and anecdotes. We eventually said our farewells at Gairlochy, just before the river path changed complexion into a full blown forest track complete with sharp flints and rubble to fill the many potholes. Much more suited to Mountain Bikes really, nevertheless we persevered as the route swooped upwards and downwards as it tracked the banks of Loch Lochy for a good 12 or so miles. So far our pace was barely 8mph.
At the end of this section the track met with the dreaded A82. Russ and I had debated long and hard whether to use this route effectively all the way to Inverness, or to switch off right at the head of Loch Ness and take the B862, which would have involved an initial 800 feet or so climb.
We we got to the A82 it was totally deserted and Russ said something to the effect of "it's a no-brainer, I thought it was supposed to be busy, e'll take this rather than the big climb"...the die was cast.
We made Fort Augustus and stopped for lunch and then commenced the 30 odd miles push to Inverness using the A82.
Russ was forced into the verge twice and I had two very narrow misses with a coach and truck. The road is thick with tourist traffic, particularly coaches, continental ones at that. Russ and I both concluded that these bastards are potential killing machines, driven by foreigners who, not only confused by the need to drive on the left, have never seen a cyclist before and are probably smoking a Gauloise whilst using a tannoy system to announce that Nessie has bobbed her head up above the water-level, oh and by the way Urquart Castle is coming up on the right....
In seriousness the riding was tough. The ascents and decents themselves as the road ducks and dives along the great Loch's shoreline are not particularly taxing, but one has to have a much greater mental concentration to ensure avoidance of coming-together with traffic. Ensuring the bikes are stable means not even re-adjusting grip on the handle bars or making unforced gear changes all things which are taken for granted along a peaceful cycle path.
To make matters worse, the traffic is not constant. It comes in waves. There can be a lull of 30 seconds perhaps even a minute, when all you can hear is the gentle whistling of the wind (very light/non existent today), or some songbird overhead, or just the bike's tyres treading the ever changing road surfaces. Then you become aware of the noise of approaching traffic, the worst type being the truck or bus. The low hum becoming louder and louder until it's more of a announcement of intent, finally becoming a roar that will either pass by without braking, or change in tone as the brakes are applied, hissing and squealing right behind you. You know at this point the driver is cursing under his breath as he has lost revs and starts looking for the smallest of gap to get by, which is usually when things can get dramatic...
We stopped at the Loch midway point, Drumnadrochit, for tea and to try and regain our composures. In fairness, after this point the tourists don't seem interested in going much further onwards towards Inverness so the road wasn't as bad. Nevertheless we didn't really relax until about 4 miles before Inverness when we spotted the canal path and entered the city to complete our day in much the same way as it had started and with our heart rates down!
Inverness itself is a very elegant town, full of interesting architecture and shrouded by mountains and hills in the distance. It has a warm, friendly feel to it. The locals are hardy types, the climate (and for some no doubt booze) etched into their wind swept and weather beaten faces. We ate at a very agreeable Italian restaurant and toasted our health and success at having safely completed day 13..
Total distance: 68.59 miles; total ascent 2552 feet; Ave Speed 10.2mph; Maximum speed 28.2mph; total time in saddle 6 hours 44 minutes.
I didn't sleep at all well. A disturbed night tossing and turning with mad dreams. Not I should add about our biking, but about some friends of mine who both appear to be closely involved with a couple of my favorite rock bands (!)
I was also conscious that my stomach felt distinctly unfit. As you do when half asleep, I began to assume the worst - that I had a fit of uncontrollable food poisoning and the challenge would be over. But I eventually managed to grab a tenuous hold of reality and recognise that after a substantial chinese meal, three pints of lager and a healthy slug of pure malt, perhaps it was purely a matter of over indulgence the previous evening that accounted for my rather tender state.
Breakfast was both wonderful and a struggle. Our delightful proprietor Anne, had not only washed and dried all our clothes (both biking and casual), but presented us with a table of fresh fruit and yoghurts, something I have yearned for since leaving home nearly two weeks ago. However the struggle was served to us after completion of the fruit, in the form of toasted bagel topped with cream cheese, smoked salmon and an egg, poached to perfection. I remember we had both ordered this 'specialty' when we had arrived and it seemed like a tremendous way to start the day, however, with a delicate tummy, such indulgence was a little tricky to eat with gusto!
Anne is a keen cyclist herself, having completed JoGLE last year (what we are doing but the other way round if that makes sense). She asked if she could join us for a few miles and we readily agreed.
After a trip to Tesco Metro for the usual stock up explosion of carbs and crap, I also made a quick call to Blacks to purchase a thermal base layer as the cold has been getting to me quite badly over the past couple of days.
All this diversion meant that we didn't really get going until 10am, but it was great to have Anne setting an early expansive road pace as she took the lead and navigated us towards the path that runs along side the River Lochy for the first 10 miles of our planned day's riding.
As with Rob over Exmoor, it was great to have a companion rider and Anne was full of great information and anecdotes. We eventually said our farewells at Gairlochy, just before the river path changed complexion into a full blown forest track complete with sharp flints and rubble to fill the many potholes. Much more suited to Mountain Bikes really, nevertheless we persevered as the route swooped upwards and downwards as it tracked the banks of Loch Lochy for a good 12 or so miles. So far our pace was barely 8mph.
At the end of this section the track met with the dreaded A82. Russ and I had debated long and hard whether to use this route effectively all the way to Inverness, or to switch off right at the head of Loch Ness and take the B862, which would have involved an initial 800 feet or so climb.
We we got to the A82 it was totally deserted and Russ said something to the effect of "it's a no-brainer, I thought it was supposed to be busy, e'll take this rather than the big climb"...the die was cast.
We made Fort Augustus and stopped for lunch and then commenced the 30 odd miles push to Inverness using the A82.
Russ was forced into the verge twice and I had two very narrow misses with a coach and truck. The road is thick with tourist traffic, particularly coaches, continental ones at that. Russ and I both concluded that these bastards are potential killing machines, driven by foreigners who, not only confused by the need to drive on the left, have never seen a cyclist before and are probably smoking a Gauloise whilst using a tannoy system to announce that Nessie has bobbed her head up above the water-level, oh and by the way Urquart Castle is coming up on the right....
In seriousness the riding was tough. The ascents and decents themselves as the road ducks and dives along the great Loch's shoreline are not particularly taxing, but one has to have a much greater mental concentration to ensure avoidance of coming-together with traffic. Ensuring the bikes are stable means not even re-adjusting grip on the handle bars or making unforced gear changes all things which are taken for granted along a peaceful cycle path.
To make matters worse, the traffic is not constant. It comes in waves. There can be a lull of 30 seconds perhaps even a minute, when all you can hear is the gentle whistling of the wind (very light/non existent today), or some songbird overhead, or just the bike's tyres treading the ever changing road surfaces. Then you become aware of the noise of approaching traffic, the worst type being the truck or bus. The low hum becoming louder and louder until it's more of a announcement of intent, finally becoming a roar that will either pass by without braking, or change in tone as the brakes are applied, hissing and squealing right behind you. You know at this point the driver is cursing under his breath as he has lost revs and starts looking for the smallest of gap to get by, which is usually when things can get dramatic...
We stopped at the Loch midway point, Drumnadrochit, for tea and to try and regain our composures. In fairness, after this point the tourists don't seem interested in going much further onwards towards Inverness so the road wasn't as bad. Nevertheless we didn't really relax until about 4 miles before Inverness when we spotted the canal path and entered the city to complete our day in much the same way as it had started and with our heart rates down!
Inverness itself is a very elegant town, full of interesting architecture and shrouded by mountains and hills in the distance. It has a warm, friendly feel to it. The locals are hardy types, the climate (and for some no doubt booze) etched into their wind swept and weather beaten faces. We ate at a very agreeable Italian restaurant and toasted our health and success at having safely completed day 13..
Tuesday, 24 May 2011
Day 12 - Back to (relative) Normality
Dalmally - Fort William (Tuesday)
Total distance: 58.77 miles; total ascent 2129 feet; Ave Speed 10.5mph; Maximum speed 29.1mph; total time in saddle 5 hours 36 minutes.
It took me some while to drift off to sleep last night. I think the day's events were spinning too glaringly in my head to allow rest to come quickly. The electricity did come on though eventually, so at least we could charge up our various electronic gadgetry.
WE awoke at around 8am and the sky was blue. At 8.15 it was grey and raining - the day essentially went on to mirror this pattern.
After a mediocre breakfast, we oiled our chains and set off at around 9.30, following the A85 to Connel our first milestone around 19 miles away.
It seemed to take forever. In fact by the time we hit Connel it was past midday and neither of us could quite account for why this fairly routine section had taken so long. The road wasn't particularly busy, although the wind was against us, but nowhere near as agressive as yesterday. I conclude that our overall drive and spirit was somewhat depleted after the tumultuous events of the day before.
Eventually after numerous, food, toilet, waterproof on-off breaks (Russ), we made Connel and diverted right over the extremely windy bridge crossing the Falls of Lora onto the A828.
The A828 is shadowed by the best Sustrains cycle track running for most of it's length. Freshly constructed and some parts stillto be completed, it is a credit to the Scottish authorities. A wonderfully smooth tarmac surface, well signposted, easy and beautiful to navigate, it skirted alongside Loch Creran offering surely the best views from any cycle track the UK has to offer. The only problem was several fallen trees, one of which necessitated lifted the bikes over broken branches and substantial tree truck remains. In fact all of our journey today bore the scars of yesterday's storms. Little wonder it had made national news.
After abut 20 miles to A828 eventually gives way to the infamous A82 and the last 15 odd miles to Fort William. There is no other way to make this trip, more's the pity. The A82 is a dreadful and sometimes terrifying experience. I watched as Russ was twice nearly taken out by aggressive and impatient HGVs, fighting to rule a narrow single carriageway road. This was not fun and there was sadly no cycle path alternative for us to retreat to.
Ally had found us a B&B in Fort William whose proprietor was a keen cyclist and happy to wash and dry our stinking 12 day old morass of stinking kecks, lycra, socks and t-shirts. Our room has the most stunning views across Loch Linnhe and with a complimentary malt to boot, it has helped ease the pain of a difficult day, mentally.
Our spirits are now lifted though I feel, following a decent Chinese in town and a few beers. The end is in sight and baring disasters, we should meet up with Larri in John O'Groats on Saturday afternoon.
I have been lent waterproof trousers by the Guesthouse owner and we'll pop into toen first thing tomorrow to pick up some thermals - it's getting colder by the day as we venture further north.
Rest now and a word about my dearest wife. It's easier for me to endure the passing of 16 odd days without seeing Larri as I'm involved in drama and seeing/doing something different each day. For her the routine is as usual but without me. I know I would find this hugely difficult if the boot was on the other foot. I can only say a massive, massive thank you to her for putting up with my stupid whims and ludicrously spontaneous nature which calls me to doing such daft things. Needless to say none of my adventures would be worthwhile without knowing I had her companionship, strength and love in bucket loads.
I can't wait to see you my love xx
Total distance: 58.77 miles; total ascent 2129 feet; Ave Speed 10.5mph; Maximum speed 29.1mph; total time in saddle 5 hours 36 minutes.
It took me some while to drift off to sleep last night. I think the day's events were spinning too glaringly in my head to allow rest to come quickly. The electricity did come on though eventually, so at least we could charge up our various electronic gadgetry.
WE awoke at around 8am and the sky was blue. At 8.15 it was grey and raining - the day essentially went on to mirror this pattern.
After a mediocre breakfast, we oiled our chains and set off at around 9.30, following the A85 to Connel our first milestone around 19 miles away.
It seemed to take forever. In fact by the time we hit Connel it was past midday and neither of us could quite account for why this fairly routine section had taken so long. The road wasn't particularly busy, although the wind was against us, but nowhere near as agressive as yesterday. I conclude that our overall drive and spirit was somewhat depleted after the tumultuous events of the day before.
Eventually after numerous, food, toilet, waterproof on-off breaks (Russ), we made Connel and diverted right over the extremely windy bridge crossing the Falls of Lora onto the A828.
The A828 is shadowed by the best Sustrains cycle track running for most of it's length. Freshly constructed and some parts stillto be completed, it is a credit to the Scottish authorities. A wonderfully smooth tarmac surface, well signposted, easy and beautiful to navigate, it skirted alongside Loch Creran offering surely the best views from any cycle track the UK has to offer. The only problem was several fallen trees, one of which necessitated lifted the bikes over broken branches and substantial tree truck remains. In fact all of our journey today bore the scars of yesterday's storms. Little wonder it had made national news.
After abut 20 miles to A828 eventually gives way to the infamous A82 and the last 15 odd miles to Fort William. There is no other way to make this trip, more's the pity. The A82 is a dreadful and sometimes terrifying experience. I watched as Russ was twice nearly taken out by aggressive and impatient HGVs, fighting to rule a narrow single carriageway road. This was not fun and there was sadly no cycle path alternative for us to retreat to.
Ally had found us a B&B in Fort William whose proprietor was a keen cyclist and happy to wash and dry our stinking 12 day old morass of stinking kecks, lycra, socks and t-shirts. Our room has the most stunning views across Loch Linnhe and with a complimentary malt to boot, it has helped ease the pain of a difficult day, mentally.
Our spirits are now lifted though I feel, following a decent Chinese in town and a few beers. The end is in sight and baring disasters, we should meet up with Larri in John O'Groats on Saturday afternoon.
I have been lent waterproof trousers by the Guesthouse owner and we'll pop into toen first thing tomorrow to pick up some thermals - it's getting colder by the day as we venture further north.
Rest now and a word about my dearest wife. It's easier for me to endure the passing of 16 odd days without seeing Larri as I'm involved in drama and seeing/doing something different each day. For her the routine is as usual but without me. I know I would find this hugely difficult if the boot was on the other foot. I can only say a massive, massive thank you to her for putting up with my stupid whims and ludicrously spontaneous nature which calls me to doing such daft things. Needless to say none of my adventures would be worthwhile without knowing I had her companionship, strength and love in bucket loads.
I can't wait to see you my love xx
Day 11 - The Most Amazing Day Ever?
Largs - Dalmally (Monday)
Total distance: 67.61 miles; total ascent 4744 feet; Ave Speed 11.2mph; Maximum speed 32.68.mph; total time in saddle 6 hours 3 minutes.
As anticipated, when we peered through our bedroom window this morning the weather was as bad as we could have imagined. Driving wind and heavy rain, all dressed in a sky painted by Baellizibub himself.
Somehow I was up first, Russ looked particularly tired after yesterday’s exploits, but we both had breakfast, which was less than ordinary and I remarked that I have no idea why we felt obliged to cram down so much food first thing in the morning, particularly food of such poor quality.
Anyhow, after the usual pannier packing ritual (this seems to get more taxing every day) we made our way to the bikes that had been left padlocked to some ladders behind the ‘best little whore house in Largs’ (see previous entry).
Here our day’s adventures started to unfold. Whilst securing the bikes last night, I had idly observed to Russ that on Brooks Saddle’s Facebook page an entry had been made about how saddles themselves were being stolen from chained up bikes. This prompted Russ to remove his and I did the same (even worse than me, he seems to trust no one and suspect everyone, particularly in dubious areas, which is pretty much anywhere further than outside his front door). As a result of all this, we therefore had to re-secure and fix our saddles back on. When Russ said “I’ve got a major problem” I sort of knew immediately what had happened. He had over tightened the bolt that secures his seat post to the frame and it had snapped in two. This was indeed serious.
For some unknown reason, I was particularly practical and positive about all this (Larri would be astounded, given my usual glass half empty style, it must be all this fresh air) and suggested that there had to be a bike shop in Largs. Thanks to the iPhone, my suggestion was confirmed to be correct and 30 minutes later we had been sorted. I also purchased some very neat l.e.d. front and rear lights.
We set off at around 9.45am for the 15 odd miles to Gourock to catch the Western Ferry to Dunoon (we had been told this line sails in any weather and for very reasonable rates, unlike the thieving feckers Calmac further up the quayside).
It was on leaving Largs for this 15 mile journey that it soon became apparent today was going to be a bit different. Upon joining the A78 the wind was not only extremely strong, but was right behind us. We polished off those 15miles in just over an hour 10 at an average pace of 14.5mph, quicker than I have ever achieved in training and certainly quicker than anything we had done before on this trip. The rush of feeling like you have a second person propelling you is really quite strange at first, big cog engaged, one can gently pedal with no effort and maintain 15 – 20 mph with ease. The novelty of this was enough to detract from the fact if was raining hard, and with effective overshoes and my top notch waterproof coat all was exceeding well with the world.
We arrived at the quayside just in time to catch the ferry so there was no wait and before we knew it we were in Dunoon stocking up on sandwiches and general provisions for the next 50 odd miles. The weather had improved greatly for the crossing and we were treated to some rare sunshine that hung around for the first couple of miles out of Dunoon. As we continued on the A815 though the weather really began to change dramatically for the worse. The rain set in as heavy as I have ever known and the winds became unbelievably fierce.
We stopped at a remote filling station and enjoyed hot coffee inside whilst watching the rubbish bin being tossed around outside like an empty crisp packet.
We pressed on, but still with the wind behind us and despite the atrocious conditions the miles were being eaten very quickly and much faster than we had become accustomed to during the preceding 10 days. When the A815 met the edge of Loch Fine is became apparent that the weather was extremely serious indeed, the usually tranquil Loch has waves of 7 or 8 feet in height. The wind which at this point was still behind us, meant we went quicker and quicker until we were having the brake to slow down the force that was coming from behind us. Freewheeling along flat and gentle inclines at speeds in excess of 30mph thanks to a wind behind you is a surreal experience and one I’m not sure I’ll ever experience again.
Excitement, extreme adrenaline rush and abject fear all rolled into one as we came across more and more fallen trees, phone and power lines that had been blown like match sticks across the road. The road is tree lined for most of the way, and whilst trying to manage speed, steer to avoid potholes etc and be wary of potential trees coming down, made for multi-tasking like I had never endured before. All of this along with huge lorries and the usual issues of traffic on a truck road meant I was laughing out loud at some points, drinking in the whole ludicrous experience because I knew it was one of those life time moments that would probably never be repeated.
Things were to get worse though.
Anyone that knows Loch Fyne will know that to get to the ‘staging post’ of Inveraray, you have to travel around the Loch. This means effectively travelling north west, then making a ‘u’ turn and travelling south east until you hit the small town.
As we made the sweeping ‘u’ turn at the end of the Loch, there was a brief moment of calm, we saw flocks of birds gently swooping through the low cloud and the trees seemed calm. However nothing could prepare us for the end of the curve as we began the 10 mile South East section to Inveraray. The wind hit us like an army of battering rams. My breath and front wheel were taken away from me and for a moment, I thought I would be swept clean off the road – a main road with cars, trucks and other such potential killing machines. Struggling to keep the bike straight in the face of 70mph gusts took all my physical and mental strength. We paused at the Loch Fyne Seafood restaurant car park and watched as parked cars rocked violently as the winds attempted to tear them away (I’m NOT kidding).
Russ told me that we were stuffed and we had little choice but to carry on to Inveraray. He told me to think of it as some sort of mad computer cycle simulation game. So we continued. I have no idea how we made it, but we did. I was about 3 minutes ahead of Russ and as I crossed the hump bridge 1/4mile from the town I could see blue lights flashing on the twon’s outskirts and watched amazed as waves from the Loch crashed over the road ahead. As I rode into the town, I realised that the police had closed the road we had just endured and drivers wondering what to do looked at me in total amazement as I rode into town like some swaggering cowboy, back from a successful bounty mission.
I pulled up and took what shelter I could in the bus stop as I waited for Russ. The police were speaking the each driver in turn in the queue of traffic and telling them basically they had no choice but the wait - the road we had just ridden was too dangerous for cars and trucks (!!!)
Oh how I wished our original plan of staying at The George Hotel in Inverary had worked out (the hotel was fully booked when we tried to get a room).
As Russ arrived and joined me I realised I was beginning to get extremely cold (remember I only have cycling shorts, my bare legs have been sunburnt, wind shredded and peppered with horizontal rain so far on this trip). Shivering uncontrollably as I rammed a roll and Boost bar down my throat, Russ said we might as well get stuck in and make Dalmally, some 16 miles ahead where our accommodation was booked.
The Police confirmed the road to Dalmally was road was clear and open (but didn’t recommend we tried it given the conditions) but somewhat reluctantly I decided not to argue with Russ but to dig in. For the first couple of miles I had serious doubts and almost turned around. My neck hurt badly, I was tense with pain and I could barely summon the strength the change gears. Stopping at Inveraray had drained my body heat and I knew my only chance of getting through this was to cycle harder and try to regain some body heat. Eventually I managed to settle and get some warmth going as my heart rate quickened.
Someone must have been looking over us, because this piece of road – 16 miles and an ascent of 700 feet, was completed in not much more than an hour. Not a superhuman effort but purely driven by the monumental winds which, by the grace of God, were behind us the whole way.
We arrived at Dalmally to find that the electricity was out throughout the whole village, mobile phone masts were down and as I type this in bed by candle light at 10 in the evening, things are still not returned to normal. There was just enough water for one bath and although I followed him, Russ can be delighted in the knowledge that his dirty water probably just about got my body temperature back to where it belonged.
There’s much I haven’t said, much it is impossible to convey through the medium of this Blog and it is no cliché to say that unless you were there, you cannot possibly understand what we had to endure today. It was a monumental effort on both our parts and took physical and mental strength that I certainly had no idea I possessed.
Oh and on top of it all, one of us ruptured a haemorrhoid.
Goodnight all.
Total distance: 67.61 miles; total ascent 4744 feet; Ave Speed 11.2mph; Maximum speed 32.68.mph; total time in saddle 6 hours 3 minutes.
As anticipated, when we peered through our bedroom window this morning the weather was as bad as we could have imagined. Driving wind and heavy rain, all dressed in a sky painted by Baellizibub himself.
Somehow I was up first, Russ looked particularly tired after yesterday’s exploits, but we both had breakfast, which was less than ordinary and I remarked that I have no idea why we felt obliged to cram down so much food first thing in the morning, particularly food of such poor quality.
Anyhow, after the usual pannier packing ritual (this seems to get more taxing every day) we made our way to the bikes that had been left padlocked to some ladders behind the ‘best little whore house in Largs’ (see previous entry).
Here our day’s adventures started to unfold. Whilst securing the bikes last night, I had idly observed to Russ that on Brooks Saddle’s Facebook page an entry had been made about how saddles themselves were being stolen from chained up bikes. This prompted Russ to remove his and I did the same (even worse than me, he seems to trust no one and suspect everyone, particularly in dubious areas, which is pretty much anywhere further than outside his front door). As a result of all this, we therefore had to re-secure and fix our saddles back on. When Russ said “I’ve got a major problem” I sort of knew immediately what had happened. He had over tightened the bolt that secures his seat post to the frame and it had snapped in two. This was indeed serious.
For some unknown reason, I was particularly practical and positive about all this (Larri would be astounded, given my usual glass half empty style, it must be all this fresh air) and suggested that there had to be a bike shop in Largs. Thanks to the iPhone, my suggestion was confirmed to be correct and 30 minutes later we had been sorted. I also purchased some very neat l.e.d. front and rear lights.
We set off at around 9.45am for the 15 odd miles to Gourock to catch the Western Ferry to Dunoon (we had been told this line sails in any weather and for very reasonable rates, unlike the thieving feckers Calmac further up the quayside).
It was on leaving Largs for this 15 mile journey that it soon became apparent today was going to be a bit different. Upon joining the A78 the wind was not only extremely strong, but was right behind us. We polished off those 15miles in just over an hour 10 at an average pace of 14.5mph, quicker than I have ever achieved in training and certainly quicker than anything we had done before on this trip. The rush of feeling like you have a second person propelling you is really quite strange at first, big cog engaged, one can gently pedal with no effort and maintain 15 – 20 mph with ease. The novelty of this was enough to detract from the fact if was raining hard, and with effective overshoes and my top notch waterproof coat all was exceeding well with the world.
We arrived at the quayside just in time to catch the ferry so there was no wait and before we knew it we were in Dunoon stocking up on sandwiches and general provisions for the next 50 odd miles. The weather had improved greatly for the crossing and we were treated to some rare sunshine that hung around for the first couple of miles out of Dunoon. As we continued on the A815 though the weather really began to change dramatically for the worse. The rain set in as heavy as I have ever known and the winds became unbelievably fierce.
We stopped at a remote filling station and enjoyed hot coffee inside whilst watching the rubbish bin being tossed around outside like an empty crisp packet.
We pressed on, but still with the wind behind us and despite the atrocious conditions the miles were being eaten very quickly and much faster than we had become accustomed to during the preceding 10 days. When the A815 met the edge of Loch Fine is became apparent that the weather was extremely serious indeed, the usually tranquil Loch has waves of 7 or 8 feet in height. The wind which at this point was still behind us, meant we went quicker and quicker until we were having the brake to slow down the force that was coming from behind us. Freewheeling along flat and gentle inclines at speeds in excess of 30mph thanks to a wind behind you is a surreal experience and one I’m not sure I’ll ever experience again.
Excitement, extreme adrenaline rush and abject fear all rolled into one as we came across more and more fallen trees, phone and power lines that had been blown like match sticks across the road. The road is tree lined for most of the way, and whilst trying to manage speed, steer to avoid potholes etc and be wary of potential trees coming down, made for multi-tasking like I had never endured before. All of this along with huge lorries and the usual issues of traffic on a truck road meant I was laughing out loud at some points, drinking in the whole ludicrous experience because I knew it was one of those life time moments that would probably never be repeated.
Things were to get worse though.
Anyone that knows Loch Fyne will know that to get to the ‘staging post’ of Inveraray, you have to travel around the Loch. This means effectively travelling north west, then making a ‘u’ turn and travelling south east until you hit the small town.
As we made the sweeping ‘u’ turn at the end of the Loch, there was a brief moment of calm, we saw flocks of birds gently swooping through the low cloud and the trees seemed calm. However nothing could prepare us for the end of the curve as we began the 10 mile South East section to Inveraray. The wind hit us like an army of battering rams. My breath and front wheel were taken away from me and for a moment, I thought I would be swept clean off the road – a main road with cars, trucks and other such potential killing machines. Struggling to keep the bike straight in the face of 70mph gusts took all my physical and mental strength. We paused at the Loch Fyne Seafood restaurant car park and watched as parked cars rocked violently as the winds attempted to tear them away (I’m NOT kidding).
Russ told me that we were stuffed and we had little choice but to carry on to Inveraray. He told me to think of it as some sort of mad computer cycle simulation game. So we continued. I have no idea how we made it, but we did. I was about 3 minutes ahead of Russ and as I crossed the hump bridge 1/4mile from the town I could see blue lights flashing on the twon’s outskirts and watched amazed as waves from the Loch crashed over the road ahead. As I rode into the town, I realised that the police had closed the road we had just endured and drivers wondering what to do looked at me in total amazement as I rode into town like some swaggering cowboy, back from a successful bounty mission.
I pulled up and took what shelter I could in the bus stop as I waited for Russ. The police were speaking the each driver in turn in the queue of traffic and telling them basically they had no choice but the wait - the road we had just ridden was too dangerous for cars and trucks (!!!)
Oh how I wished our original plan of staying at The George Hotel in Inverary had worked out (the hotel was fully booked when we tried to get a room).
As Russ arrived and joined me I realised I was beginning to get extremely cold (remember I only have cycling shorts, my bare legs have been sunburnt, wind shredded and peppered with horizontal rain so far on this trip). Shivering uncontrollably as I rammed a roll and Boost bar down my throat, Russ said we might as well get stuck in and make Dalmally, some 16 miles ahead where our accommodation was booked.
The Police confirmed the road to Dalmally was road was clear and open (but didn’t recommend we tried it given the conditions) but somewhat reluctantly I decided not to argue with Russ but to dig in. For the first couple of miles I had serious doubts and almost turned around. My neck hurt badly, I was tense with pain and I could barely summon the strength the change gears. Stopping at Inveraray had drained my body heat and I knew my only chance of getting through this was to cycle harder and try to regain some body heat. Eventually I managed to settle and get some warmth going as my heart rate quickened.
Someone must have been looking over us, because this piece of road – 16 miles and an ascent of 700 feet, was completed in not much more than an hour. Not a superhuman effort but purely driven by the monumental winds which, by the grace of God, were behind us the whole way.
We arrived at Dalmally to find that the electricity was out throughout the whole village, mobile phone masts were down and as I type this in bed by candle light at 10 in the evening, things are still not returned to normal. There was just enough water for one bath and although I followed him, Russ can be delighted in the knowledge that his dirty water probably just about got my body temperature back to where it belonged.
There’s much I haven’t said, much it is impossible to convey through the medium of this Blog and it is no cliché to say that unless you were there, you cannot possibly understand what we had to endure today. It was a monumental effort on both our parts and took physical and mental strength that I certainly had no idea I possessed.
Oh and on top of it all, one of us ruptured a haemorrhoid.
Goodnight all.
Sunday, 22 May 2011
Day 10 - The Weather Closes In
Thornhill to Largs
Total distance: 74.53 miles; total ascent 2785 feet; Ave Speed 9.4mph; Maximum speed 32.8.mph; total time in saddle 7 hours 58 minutes.
As agreed with our hyper-efficient German guest house proprietors, we rose at 7.15 for breakfast at 7.30 sharp. I need to say that the breakfast we were served was nothing sort of exquisite. Pure white crockery, set to precision placing, everything, including cereal, served to us and the most delightful and wonderfully cooked Scottish breakfast, with excellent haggis, all presented with military proficiency. No greater example of German efficiently can be found anywhere I’ll wager.
We sat at a table by a large bay window, from where we watched the rain lashing down against a dark and foreboding sky. We both sensed today would probably present our biggest challenge to date. We had reviewed the route last night and decided to take the more direct A road approach today and speculated that being a Sunday, the A76 would be quiet.
We left the Guest house around 8.20 and first off paid a visit to the local Co-Op to stock up on rations for the day. Upon hearing of our challenge and the charity we had chosen to be sponsored for, I was given £10 by one of the check out girls.
We set off in heavy rain and started our 35-mile plus navigation of the A78. It was indeed quiet to start with, most Scots enjoying a Sunday lie in no doubt, but as the rain continued, the traffic got heavier and worst of all the wind got stronger and stronger. We both knew today would be a no nonsense, head down kinda run and indeed this is how it turned out. We just needed to crunch the miles and get on with it. The wind was cruel though. We are both very tired tonight and although ascent wise today was not substantial at all, we had to pedal all day non stop to counteract the driving wind which didn’t relent and chose to face us head on throughout.
Sanguhar, Kirkconnel, Cumnock came and went until eventually after what seemed like hours (it was) we reached Mauchine and veered off left onto kinder, less frighteningly busy roads. By now the weather had changed from completely overcast to sunshine then showers which was more of a relief, although the driving wind continued unabated. I was very glad I had purchased a new waterproof (with hood that fits perfectly under my helmet), along with waterproof over shoes. I’m also pleased to report that the panniers are, so far totally waterproof. Wet gear at the end of the day (let alone a wet laptop) would not have made Giles happy at all.
We finally made the closely linked towns of Troon, Irvine, Stevenson and the rather depressingly named Saltcoats and thanks to well-made and signposted cycle paths, navigated through this potential maze with ease. Finally, and once again the last stretch of the day was the best - a costal run up the A78 following the adjacent cycle path to Largs. The early evening sunshine, intermingled with heavy black clouds made for interesting light and Arran and Bute looked particularly beautiful as we inched our way to the Guest House Ally had arranged for us. We think it’s a knocking shop in disguise, but can’t be certain.
So after 10 days and 730 miles (it’s amazing to think we only have c350 more to go) how am I bearing up? Well my backside is a little better although arse cream has to be applied liberally to the padding of my shorts in the morning with a least one further dressing to keep matters under control. Inevitably cracking skin that I suffer with anyway has attacked the end of my right index finger and is proving painful and difficult to keep under control. My neck gets a little stiff after a few hours without a break, but by and large I’ve surprised myself with how well I’ve coped physically. Mentally, it’s getting harder and harder to separate the days. I had to force myself to think very hard today of exactly where we have stayed and in what accommodation since we started. It’s almost inconceivable that a week ago today we completed a 90+ mile run which included our run over Exmoor. Have we really been going this long?
Russ was too tired to go out and eat tonight, so I volunteered to go and get some stuff in, which included a trip to Tesco Metro and the nearby Kebab house (which I’m regretting already). After we had eaten we began to look ahead and it’s quite exciting now to begin to see the end in site. The weather will be our biggest challenge though I think, with the next two days forecasting very heavy rain and winds that warrant a weather warning. But at least we are now asking Ally to think about booking a few days ahead and it’s looking more and more likely that we will make JoG on Saturday ☺
As the accommodation we wanted in Inverary is fully booked we will push on to Dalmally a further 15 miles or so up the road (we have to make this, there’s nothing in between), which means another 70 odd miles tomorrow and at least 4500 feet in climbing. We have to make good progress as the only restaurant in Dalmally apparently closes at 9pm. Here’s hoping the weather won’t be too unkind.
Off to bed now, Last night I had my usual reoccurring dream about seeing an airplane crash and a more bizarre one in which David Cameron advisors told me he would be taking in own life in order to boost his popularity ratings (!!??!!). Tonight I don’t think I’ll dream, I’m too tired – I might even sleep right through Russ’s snoring..
Total distance: 74.53 miles; total ascent 2785 feet; Ave Speed 9.4mph; Maximum speed 32.8.mph; total time in saddle 7 hours 58 minutes.
As agreed with our hyper-efficient German guest house proprietors, we rose at 7.15 for breakfast at 7.30 sharp. I need to say that the breakfast we were served was nothing sort of exquisite. Pure white crockery, set to precision placing, everything, including cereal, served to us and the most delightful and wonderfully cooked Scottish breakfast, with excellent haggis, all presented with military proficiency. No greater example of German efficiently can be found anywhere I’ll wager.
We sat at a table by a large bay window, from where we watched the rain lashing down against a dark and foreboding sky. We both sensed today would probably present our biggest challenge to date. We had reviewed the route last night and decided to take the more direct A road approach today and speculated that being a Sunday, the A76 would be quiet.
We left the Guest house around 8.20 and first off paid a visit to the local Co-Op to stock up on rations for the day. Upon hearing of our challenge and the charity we had chosen to be sponsored for, I was given £10 by one of the check out girls.
We set off in heavy rain and started our 35-mile plus navigation of the A78. It was indeed quiet to start with, most Scots enjoying a Sunday lie in no doubt, but as the rain continued, the traffic got heavier and worst of all the wind got stronger and stronger. We both knew today would be a no nonsense, head down kinda run and indeed this is how it turned out. We just needed to crunch the miles and get on with it. The wind was cruel though. We are both very tired tonight and although ascent wise today was not substantial at all, we had to pedal all day non stop to counteract the driving wind which didn’t relent and chose to face us head on throughout.
Sanguhar, Kirkconnel, Cumnock came and went until eventually after what seemed like hours (it was) we reached Mauchine and veered off left onto kinder, less frighteningly busy roads. By now the weather had changed from completely overcast to sunshine then showers which was more of a relief, although the driving wind continued unabated. I was very glad I had purchased a new waterproof (with hood that fits perfectly under my helmet), along with waterproof over shoes. I’m also pleased to report that the panniers are, so far totally waterproof. Wet gear at the end of the day (let alone a wet laptop) would not have made Giles happy at all.
We finally made the closely linked towns of Troon, Irvine, Stevenson and the rather depressingly named Saltcoats and thanks to well-made and signposted cycle paths, navigated through this potential maze with ease. Finally, and once again the last stretch of the day was the best - a costal run up the A78 following the adjacent cycle path to Largs. The early evening sunshine, intermingled with heavy black clouds made for interesting light and Arran and Bute looked particularly beautiful as we inched our way to the Guest House Ally had arranged for us. We think it’s a knocking shop in disguise, but can’t be certain.
So after 10 days and 730 miles (it’s amazing to think we only have c350 more to go) how am I bearing up? Well my backside is a little better although arse cream has to be applied liberally to the padding of my shorts in the morning with a least one further dressing to keep matters under control. Inevitably cracking skin that I suffer with anyway has attacked the end of my right index finger and is proving painful and difficult to keep under control. My neck gets a little stiff after a few hours without a break, but by and large I’ve surprised myself with how well I’ve coped physically. Mentally, it’s getting harder and harder to separate the days. I had to force myself to think very hard today of exactly where we have stayed and in what accommodation since we started. It’s almost inconceivable that a week ago today we completed a 90+ mile run which included our run over Exmoor. Have we really been going this long?
Russ was too tired to go out and eat tonight, so I volunteered to go and get some stuff in, which included a trip to Tesco Metro and the nearby Kebab house (which I’m regretting already). After we had eaten we began to look ahead and it’s quite exciting now to begin to see the end in site. The weather will be our biggest challenge though I think, with the next two days forecasting very heavy rain and winds that warrant a weather warning. But at least we are now asking Ally to think about booking a few days ahead and it’s looking more and more likely that we will make JoG on Saturday ☺
As the accommodation we wanted in Inverary is fully booked we will push on to Dalmally a further 15 miles or so up the road (we have to make this, there’s nothing in between), which means another 70 odd miles tomorrow and at least 4500 feet in climbing. We have to make good progress as the only restaurant in Dalmally apparently closes at 9pm. Here’s hoping the weather won’t be too unkind.
Off to bed now, Last night I had my usual reoccurring dream about seeing an airplane crash and a more bizarre one in which David Cameron advisors told me he would be taking in own life in order to boost his popularity ratings (!!??!!). Tonight I don’t think I’ll dream, I’m too tired – I might even sleep right through Russ’s snoring..
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