We did it!

I suppose the first thing I should post is WE DID IT! A total of 1,071 miles over 14 days. However, the last two days were anything but uneventful. We had to cover 175 miles in the last two days, with 110 of those on day 13. But …

Day 13

We got up ridiculously early expecting to spend at least 14 hours on the road. We were by now fully aware that our estimates of how long days were going to take were always totally wrong, and considering this was the longest day by about 20 miles we just hopped to make it before dark.

For the first part of the ride I had plotted a bit of a sprackle through open country, so 30 minutes after a hearty breakfast and saying goodbye to Anna’s mum and Sandra and Dick whilst the mist still lay heavy across the Scottish moors and farms, we found ourselves on a rocky track three miles north of Nethy Bridge.  It was quite a precarious track with two heavily rutted, rocky tyre-tracks. Ian placed a wheel wrong and the next thing I heard was the unmistakable sound of someone falling off their bike behind me. Ian got back up and at first appeared fine, we had been barely moving when it happened, and I was already to get going again. Then we noticed his little finger on his right hand. It had been completely dislocated at the second joint and was sticking out at a 30 degree angle the wrong way. We discussed the merits of trying to ‘relocate’ it ourselves, Rich phoned his Mum, who phoned his Uncle (a Doctor), describing the ‘yank and pull’ method… Ian didn’t look convinced. The cows in the field next to us started to charge about, sensing something was wrong. We considered abandoning him. I’d heard some years ago on Countryfile that Scotland were considering  reintroduced wolves, he’d probably be a pile of bones before the weekend. We could tell everyone he’d begged us to go on, taken one for the team, a real non-fictional Captain Oates. I was overruled, and instead we used a mobile telephone to call Dick who came and picked him up and took him to Aviemore hospital. Ian’s martyrdom would have to wait for another day.

With Ian safely packed away with his bike in Dicks Volvo estate, we pushed on. All a little bit somber at the loss of one of our comrades, and proceeded up the 7 cycleway along the A9. After about 40 minutes (and at the top of the highest climb of the day) I had a call from Dick. Ian had apparently made a full recovery and would live. He’d also managed to blag £10 out of the Doctor for MSF! A few miles further on we were reunited, Ian had missed only about 10 miles and it had all taken about an hour! Brilliant.

We forged on along the A9 and got into Helmsdale about 8.45pm. Irene, the Hostel owner, quickly phoned the local pub to make sure that they would stay open for us, and with a quick change we were down the Tartan Lounge eating steak pies! There was a sense that we had made it! This was the final challenge, the 75 miles tomorrow seemed like a stroll down to the local shops in comparison.

Day14

We got up and went through the usual routine, acutely aware that this would be for the last time. We managed to get on the road quite early, after raiding the local Spar for various pastries and cereal bars, straight away we realised that the A9 was actually quite hilly after Helmsdale. We climbed, we descended, we climbed we descended, we had a wee in a farmer’s field whilst the farmer was watching, then started climbing and descending again. It was after a couple of hours that we started to see the JOGLEers. All fresh with their crisply pressed lycra and happy faces. Some were wearing matching jerseys and had none of the road weariness we were all showing. Also, none of them were carrying their own kit as they zipped by on their carbon road bikes. As much as I loathed their chirpiness, there loud ‘good-mornings’ and ‘not-far-nows’ I also pitied them. I thought ‘I know Cornwall and it’s a killer, you’ll get there when you feel like I do now!’ This made me feel better, our fellow LEJOGers would no doubt be all chipper to them when they were going through it. Ha ha ha.

Ahem. Anyway, we carried on, and got to Wick. People don’t talk about Wick, I didn’t even know it existed, and it’s easy to see why. There was not one redeeming feature. We stopped and, spotting a rather fine coffee machine in the window of a Café I quickly order a coffee. The machine was clearly only ornamental, what I got was half a teaspoon of Nescafe in a polystyrene cup with water for £1.50. Rather than argue and appear like a London-coffee-snob-pillock i deliberately looked confused and slowly paid, hoping my subtle frown would convey my whole thought process about the situation ... i don't think it worked.

We met Dave and Monique and had a quick chat, Dave looking very satisfied behind the wheel of his big campervan, and this was just the spur we needed for the last few miles.

I threw my coffee away and we left Wick, everything run down and shut, to see a large, gleaming Tesco’s on the outskirts of the town looking as if it had beaten the life out of the old town and had now positioned itself on higher ground ready for it’s final assault.

The A99 was to be our final road, and off we went about a mile later towards JOG finally leaving the A9 after 3 days or so. I didn’t realise the Orkneys we as close to the mainland and it was a shock when we finally saw the sea to realise this was the end of known Britain. It was also quickly dawning on us that we were nearly there. For me, the big moment was not getting to the actually bit where all the tourist nonsense is, it was the battered non-descript local authority ‘John O’Groats’ sign that made me happy. We had done it. 

We took lots of photos then headed the few miles into JOG. There were other cyclists (again, none with panniers and most with obvious helpers attending to their every whim) who had just finished and I couldn’t help feeling what we had done was a bit special. Not something everyone would do. We stayed there for about an hour, took the photos, said goodbyes, and headed into Thurso.

Monique managed to find the most unlikely of bars that was really quite good, and somewhere I don’t think I would even have looked at twice if we had walked past it. We had a couple of beers, hogged the jukebox, played some pool, then went off to sleep. Or rather went back to the hostel, had a row with the owner which nearly turned into a fight, then went to sleep after locking the door and vowing to leave very early so we didn't have to deal with the idiot again.

Day 15&16

A lovely train ride through the Cairngorms with none of the horror stories you here about bikes and Scotrail. The change at Inverness was easy and the Guard was happy to let Rich and Ian use their later tickets for the earlier train. We had a nice night out in Edinburgh, and managed to catch up with Sandy, Anna’s friend from way back when, before heading off back to London on the Sunday, although we cut it very fine for the train in the end!

So we did it. It was almost full of too many memories for one holiday and there are lots of things that keep springing back into my head. I enjoyed it, but it was tough and everyone’s relationships and friendships were tested at some point. Thanks for reading. Ta ta x

Update Day 8 to day 12

Well, i've been a bit slack with my updates, this is because by the time we get to the hostel, shower, eat, wash up, wash the kit, etc, i've been too knackered to even think about writing anything.

However, as i write this we have completed 890 miles and are in Nethy Bridge. We have been fully fed with a wonderful meal prepared by Sandra, and have just two days and 175 miles standing between us and John O'Groats.

The weather has actually been too good, not something i actually thought would be a problem, but the heat on the road has just been exhausting for the past 4 days.

Day 8
In my last update we had just got into the Yorshire Dales, and were in Kettlewell. The next morning we headed into the heart of the Dales, cycling along the river Wharf before the assent over Wharfdale and the descent into Wensleydale. The climb was ferocious, taking about an hour, and i'm not ashamed to say it involved a fair amount of pushing, but the descent was the thing of dreams. Starting with a stunning view down into Wensleydale, the first few 30mph twists and turns belie the sheer speed of the slopes that. Like a well designed roller coaster after a false summit the road just drops. With a clear view for about a straight mile to where the road snakes up the dale, its impossible not to release the brakes and let gravity do what Issac Newton invented it for. I hit a top speed of 50mph, and can only describe it as like bungee jumping with a bike between your legs.

Next we had to tackle Hartside Summit, 1900 ft at the top and about a 5 mile climb. What i can only describe as an incredible climb, that i will go back and do on my road bike at some point. The views over Cumbria were amazing and something i will remember for a long time.

We had a quick stop in Wensley Dale, where Anna was given £10 towards MSF by a random person after explaining what we were riding for, before pushing on to Alston YHA arriving just in time to have a row with a pub landlord about ordering food at 8.50pm when food stopped at 9.

Day 9
This was a slog of a day through Northumberland. probably the highlight was arriving a minute or so ahead of everyone else at The Gate pub just south of Rothbury, where on arrival one of two women sat outside smoking announced in a broad Newcastle accent  'bloody hell, it's Alberto Contador!' (as i was wearing an Astana jersey that Contador did race in two seasons ago),To which the other replied in an equally broad accent as Ian arrived after 'Is this Cadel Evans now?'. They then proceeded to discuss who Contador was riding for now, then as Rich arrived in his Radioshack Jersey they said 'and here's Andy Schleck!'. They updated us on the Tour results and then both gave us a fiver towards MSF as we left (but refused to give it to 'Andy' as they didn't trust him)... proof if any was needed of cyclings growing popularity i suppose!

Day 10
The big one, going into Scotland. Yet another glorious morning and we knocked off the 15 miles to the boarder along sun-soaked country lanes in 55 minutes, we then spent about an hour in Duns eating ice creams and feeling pleased with ourselves, forgetting that we still had another difficult 50 miles to complete. Luckily, we spoke to a guy in the local sandwich shop who told us to go a different way to the one planed into Edinburgh, and the decision was definitely the right one. The day got hotter and hotter and as our new route stuck to the valley, we could see my plotted alternative road going over every miserable hill you could imagine. A beautiful day that wasn't too hard, apart from that bloody big ball of hot up in the heavens that is.

The hostel was staying in in Edinbugh made us feel a bit old with lots of young people sporting 'Images', such as large beards, strange hair cuts and unnatural sitting positions. The common room was like something out of the matrix with about 10 20-somethings hooked us to phones, ipads and laptops like the rest of the world didn't exist.Ian got cross (as things like this generally annoy him) and made some comments, but as all of then had earphones in his witty rye remakes were met with no response whatsoever.

Day11
Edinburgh to Pitlochry. It's fair to say i've had better days. Everything started ok, we found a lovely off road route that took us down the South bank of the Fourth past the Fourth rail bridge and Queensferry and safely on to the road bridge. We then managed to get to Perth without too much issue and that's where my brain seemed to check-out on me for the day Firstly my plotting went a bit wrong taking us onto the A9 a dual carriageway. I managed to navigate a hugely difficult detour which then took us onto a cycle path a bit further up on the A9. Trying to make up some time i decided to take to a large grassed area to overtake a dog walker, so as not to have to make them move out of my way, this was a mistake. the grassed area was hiding a rather large kerb, which i hit at about 20mph, my first thought when i relised i was coming off the bike was, 'oh well, this will be ok, grass is soft'. This is true, however, i managed to land on my side digging my elbow into my ribs, the pain was instant and i'm still not sure whether i've cracked a couple of ribs. They hurt like a ... sod. My bike was a bit mangled but Richard and Ian managed to sort it out as Anna told me to stop being a wuss and get up.

Pitlochry is like something out of a film set, the view from the hostel dining room made it look like a model village. I'm certainly going to come back to this part of the world and explore it properly, Perth looked great too.

Day 12.
Today. Couldn't get out of bed to turn my alarm off at 6am, much to the annoyance of everyone else. Another scorcher. We used the old A9, which is now disused and has become a cycle path. Ian and i discussed the eeriness of what appeared to be a major road, catseyes and white lines still there, slowly being reclaimed by nature. It could be used as a film set for The Road, we argued, then we though 'why didn't they use a cycle in The Road', coming to the conclusion that the whole book/film was fundamentally flawed (12 days together...). We then slowly climbed over 25 miles to the summit on the A9 before descending into Scotland proper. Forests, mountains, glens, Lochs, this is what Americans think all Scotland is like before landing in Glasgow. Truly stunning. I'm going to bed now as it's 10.30 and i've got a very very early start tomorrow. Just time for a quick thank you to Sandra and Dick for feeding up, watering us and putting us up for the night, it's really appreciated!

I'll post up some pictures from my phone tomorrow to accompany this bland rambling. I'm not checking this for grammar, spellllling etc, because i haven't got time, so don't bother complaining. Good  night x

Day 6 & 7

Day 6

Today's  been a funny sort of day. The hotel we stayed in was a bit odd last night, no one seemed to know what was going on and the clash of patterns between walls, upholstery, curtains, carpets etc was a sensory overload. As an example, we were told that the towels were kept in the wardrobe when we mentioned we didn't have any in the room... odd! My knee was agony most of the day today. I've done lots of stretching and I'm hoping it'll get better but I'm really really worried. I can hardly walk at the moment I'm just going to strap it up tomorrow and not clip in. It appears to be the muscle to the right of my knee cap on my right knee, every peddle stroke feels like a knife is being stabbed into my knee cap. Not much fun! 

The Wrekin area actually really nice. Surprising as Telford is such a dump. 

We cycled up middlewood way from Macclesfield, which is a disused railway line, so very flat but not too fast. We met rich's aunt and uncle for a quick cup of tea and some cake, leaving us 10 miles to Stella's. however, my map plotting skills were pretty poor and we ended up climbing a dirt track up to a ridge overlooking glossop. A tip for future reference is if a sign says 'unsuitable for motor vehicles' it's safe to assume its also unsuitable for pannier laden road bikes...

I could hardly walk by the time we arrived at Stella's and after about half an hour the knee had seized up completely... Not good. Even getting out of a chair was agony, and stairs were an absolute no no. Gonna rest and stretch and strap and hope...

Day 7. 

I'm writing this as we settle down to a quite night in the sleepy hamlet of kettlewell, Wharfdale. I'll be posting it up sometime later as there us no 3G here... We arrived in kettlewell at about 9:50pm, 10 minutes to spare before the hostel shut so we cut it a bit fine! The problem is getting ready in good time in the mornings; and we keep doing it. This morning, for example, it was so nice to be round Stella's, everyone just took their time getting ready until before we knew it it was 11am and we hadn't started. We've set a rule that we're to be on the road for 9 tomorrow, no excuses! 

The route today took us around the satellite towns of Manchester, before heading up the Rochdale canal. The canal was really lovely to ride in the sun, with lots of typically northern town charm, but even though it is a national cycle network recognised path, every mile or so there is some deliberate obstical to stop cyclists.  

We had a pretty easy first 30 miles before we got to Hebden Bridge, then came the famous climb out of it (see this years tour of Britain, and they won't be doing it with panniers on). We all did really well, but probably left a bit too much of ourselves on that climb forgetting that we still had a few dales to negotiate in the last 35 miles. 

It was beautifully cycling up the path of the river wharf as the sun set, casting shadows over the vale and dales, but probably cutting it a bit too fine... My knee appears to have made a miraculous recovery and has not caused me any trouble, I stretched it loads and had an elastic bandage covering my whole right leg all day like some woollen white stocking. It's not pretty, but if looks like it might have worked. 

I started writing this whilst everyone was getting ready for bed, as I come to finish it, I can report that in the 15 minutes its take me to write this i can now hear three separate snoring rhythms, all three cycling chums are sound asleep. Tied cyclists. My turn now.... Night night...

Days 3,4 & 5

I've been a bit slack with the updates because we've just been getting in so late. But here goes!! 

Day 3 after spending the night in the relative luxury of a Premier Inn in exeter, day 3 was supposed to be an easier day. However, my bike had developed a problem with the bottom bracket which involved a trip to three bike shops in Exeter before I discovered the problem was merely a dodgy spacer. This meant by mid day we were still in Exeter with 70 miles to go! We hit the road but never made up the time limping into cheddar late with just enough time to raid the tescos metro for pasties and cold pasta before it closed. 

Day 4 and it was Ian's turn for the cycling gods to frown upon him. It became apparent that his front derailleur and shifter hadn't been fitted properly by the bike shop he'd bought it from. Thankfully, cheddar cycles fitted it in for a quick overhaul there and then and we left by about mid day again, well behind schedule. After about three miles a wasp flew into my helmet and stung me on the forehead. I did manage to kill the swine in retribution though. We followed the Strawberry Line out of cheddar which is a disused railway line, one of the highlights was a 100 or so meter long tunnel without any lighting! Very scary cycling in the pitch black, especially when you could here things scurrying to the left and right of you in the darkness... We continued following the cycle route however, being clever, I had plotted a short cut over a hill.  We soon realised why this 'short cut' was not included in the official route as there was what I believe was at least a 35% descent on the other side. It started shallow then just got steeper and steeper along a quite twisty single track road. it was basically impossible to stop. It appeared that the local council had inadvertently tarmaced a cliff and called it a road. I had my brakes on full, still doing about 10 mph when Richard came steaming past me, his metal cleats in his shoes literally sparking along the road as he tried to stop. Anna and I managed to find a nice soft bank to ride into, and ian disappeared put of sight down, to what we assumed was his doom. However he managed to grab a tree or something and stop. 

We rode along the A40 towards Brecon, the scenery at the twilight when we arrived was stunning. Although a main trunk road at this time of the evening we basically had a 10 mile descent all to ourselves. 

Day 5 started with us meeting some very friendly miniature horse type creatures. We then had a stop in Hay on Wye, a quick panini and a scout round town and back on the road. We made good progress and rode to Ludlow by mid afternoon, we decided to push on for our hotel thinking we could smash the last 30 miles, this was a mistake. i quickly bonked and food and water dried up after about 10 miles. my right knee decided to start hurting with 8 miles to go and i had an agonising crawl into our hotel. I've iced it, stretched it and deep heated it and hopefully we will be okay for tomorrow... Fingers crossed