Day 14: Oban to Fort Augustus

Total mileage: 78
Terrain: Undulating landscape with heavy rain and heavy holiday traffic

After a very relaxing evening in the warmth of the hotel and a decent restaurant, the following day was again wet and windy.  We loaded up our bikes that we had stashed in the security of the landlady’s back garden and went on our merry way.

The exit to Oban was an uphill campaign for the first few miles, much like the morning we left Launceston.  However, the weather was far less friendly as the rain once again began to fall.  Although we had put the unfortunate escapades of the previous day behind us, the roads were thick with holiday traffic, most of which was impatient and pushy.  Our route took us up along the coast and then inland to Fort William.  Considering we had had the luxury of quite roads since heading away from Dumfries with the exception of around Ayr, this was an unwelcome return of congestion.

Fort William was abuzz with holiday makers and outdoor types.  We settled down for a spot of brunch after our early start.  The food was great and began to warm us up once again.  We even had the chance to send a couple of texts as there was some reception for a change.

Before we headed out of town, Pete decided it was high time that he invested in a new waterproof jacket.  This proved to be a very shrewd idea as moments after he emerged from the outdoor shop, the skies opened and we were soaked in the ensuing deluge.

The ever useful handbook that Mary carried around with her suggested that we should head down to the canal and follow it 15 miles upstream.  The midges were out in force so we did not hang around, which was a shame as the views along the canal were very pleasant.  Fortunately for us, the weather was more behaved for the remainder of our ride that afternoon.

We rejoined the tarmac in time to see a few bikers being nicked by the local police – probably having too much fun for their liking…  We carried on along the small B roads, through some spectacular countryside and back onto the main road to Inverness, which fortunately, was not too busy.

The quiet roads were smooth and bordered by a very beautiful loch.  We were able to open the taps a little and get some decent miles under the wheels.   I had thought a B&B would be a good idea for the evening as we had to wash and dry all of our clothes but were unable to find any vacant rooms.  We did find a lovely campsite.  The only drawback was the swarm of midges that bit the hell out of us as we tried to eat supper.  So, our only escape was to get into our respective tents, zip them closed, spend about 20 minutes catching all the midges in the tend and then finally be able to relax and read a little.

Some beautiful views only marred by the miserable weather and heavy traffic.

Day 13: Lochranza (Isle of Arran) to Oban

Total mileage: 67
Terrain: Undulating landscape with extreme weather and floading

After enjoying a relaxed evening in Lochanza YHA, we turned in for bed, only to find that our dorm (male dorm that Pete and I were in) had a very smelly guy in it, along with a couple of loud snorers.  Suffice it to say, neither of us were in the mood for a night of that, so we crept into the girl’s dorm, where Mary was, and ended up grabbing a decent night’s sleep there instead.

As it turned out, this was a useful move as Day 13 was a tough day.  We caught the ferry at 9am from the tiny ferry port over to Claonaig on the mainland.  As we pulled out of the harbour, we could see the dark clouds looming over Arran.  By the time we were close to Claonaig, the rain began to fall and the temperature to drop.

The smelly guy from our dorm the previous night was onboard, and still stank.  Clearly, although it rained all the time, Scots hate showers…  We all huddled into the confined space of a bus shelter to clad ourselves in Gortex.  Due to the smell, we left in haste.

The B8801 road northwards felt incredibly remote and isolated.  We passed very few cars or houses.  It felt much more like we were pioneers that at any previous point.  The chill form the rain began to have a negative effect on our moods.

We joined a slightly more major road, the A83 at Kennacraig and turned north east.  We stopped at West Talbot for some warm food, which made a huge difference.  The town is centred on a lovely little port.  Had the weather not been so bad, it might have been as pleasant as any of the villages we had passed in Cornwall and Devon weeks before.

Heading out of the village due north, we cycled parallel to a large sea loch.  Although the weather was still foul, the addition of this beautiful scenery did wonders for our mood and we began to pick up the pace.  Our luck was soon to chance though as the weather proved to be more of an obstacle than we had anticipated.

Just outside of Ballenoch, on the B841, the roads were under a foot of water.  Cars gingerly drove through the floods in single file to avoid causing a potentially damaging wake that might flood another person’s car as the water was above most car’s door lines.  We had no option but to cycle through.  I was especially happy that I had opted for waterproof luggage on my bike.  However, our footwear did not fare as well.  We had to crunch the 400m flood in a low gear and spin fast to avoid coming off whilst cycling against the body of water.  To be honest, we were all in stitches as it seemed so absolutely absurd.  We were already soaked, so this was not such a nightmare.  Many of the car drives smiled and beeped as we cycled past.

Further along the road, the locals had erected a barrier as the road ahead had been completely flooded under a few meters of water and was now impassable.  We were forced to either double back or take a very minor B road.  Although this added a few more miles to the journey, the alternative of turning back was not something any of us wanted to do.  We were rewarded with one of the best bits of cycling on the entire trip.  The roads were small but perfect for cycling.  The rain eased up a little and the sky became dramatic without being overbearing.  The terrain was very hilly but the sense of achievement counter balanced any negatives.

Back on the main road and the riding got easier although the hills continued to rise and fall consistently.  The only issue we encountered for the rest of the day was an idiot driving dangerously.  I was at the back of the group when he over took me on a blind corner.  The car coming the other way forced him to pull in and he narrowly missed hitting May and Pete.  He continued to demonstrate what a complete and utter prick he was by stamping on his brakes in the middle of the road when Mary waved her fist at him for being such a wreckless river.  What ensued was a farce as he blocked the traffic and got out of his car to shout obscenities at us.

In the entire cycle ride, this was on the only incident we had, which I should take solace in.  However, he was such an arse hole, it took the wind out of our sales.  We decided to call it a day in Oban and reward ourselves with a nice B&B, mainly because none of us had any dry clothes left.

Although the incident still makes me a little angry, the day was quite an adventure with some stunning scenery.  All in all, had the weather been better and without the idiot drover, it would have been one of my favourite days of the trip.

Day 12: Kendour YHA to Lochranza (Isle of Arran)

Total mileage: 78
Terrain: Flat on mainland but steep end of day climb on Arran with heavy rain

Another long day in the saddle after the previous day.  However, we had a glorious view in the morning at the YHA hostel.  The guys there were all really friendly and sent us off with a hot cup of tea and toast.

The weather was pretty foul again but not the same level of rainfall as the previous day.  We cycled for a few miles on the small B7000 the hostel was sited off, until we came to the A713 main road to Ayr at Carpshaim.  This road was fantastic as there was a long downhill through some incredible countryside.  I think in all, we must have had the slope in our favour for about 4 miles.

We stopped off at a superstore in Ayr to stock up after the previous night’s food shortages.  None of us wanted to be stuck in that position again in a hurry.  Ayr is a very industrialised town and not particularly pleasant.  Although the cycle route was well marked, the parts that took us through the urban areas, up through Prestwick and Troon, were particularly forgettable.

Fortunately, the route through the forests close to Kilwinning and Stevenston were really pretty and well maintained.  We hardly saw another soul.  The well kept cycle route made the ever worsening weather more bearable.  Indeed, with 5 miles to Androssan where we intended to catch a ferry to Arran, the skies opened.

By the time we made it to Androssan, we were all completely soaked and the level of motivation was dropping almost as fast as our body temperatures.  We timed the ferry perfectly, arriving with just enough time to buy our tickets and board the ferry.  As you can see from the first picture, our bikes were fastened with a single bungee to the side of the boat.  This, however, was sufficient as the crossing was relatively calm.

Arran looked incredible at first sight.  The heavy, opalescent skies looming threateningly overhead as the ferry drew into the harbour.  It was getting cold and our kit had not dried on the brief crossing.  Mary was feeling the worst, suffering from knee problems.  The harbour town of Brodlick was sufficiently congenial but very small.  We soon pushed past the town limits as we headed northwards, towards the other ferry port town on the island of Lochranza.

Our route clung to the coastline, affording us the opportunity to see a sea lion as we rode along.  The absence of traffic was also noted, something that made the final 16 mile push all the more bearable in the rain storm.  The second leg of the Arran ride took us inland, into the mountains.  The drama of the landscape was incredible, a real highlight of the trip as we forced the bikes up an ever steeper climb.  The lashing rain only seemed to heighten the moment, making the scenery foreboding and menacing.  It truly felt as though we were adventurers in parts unknown.

The hostel in Lochranza was great but considering that we had hardly passed a soul on the roads, strangely busy!

Day 9: Ecclestone to Hazelslack

Total mileage: 61
Terrain: Hills – Fast paced A road riding

The start of the day meant getting away from Ecclestone and all the grim areas around that part of the UK.  However, once we were on the go, our mood rapidly increased as we hit pretty countryside and fast A roads.  The traffic was generally quite accommodating and gave us a wide birth.  We cranked up the speed and managed to bash out the miles really quickly along the smooth tarmac.  The sunny weather was back and the going remained good all day.

Although there was a good canal path, The Lancaster Canal, which we had originally planned to join at Garstang, the roads were so good, we continued on to Lancaster.  From here, we eventually joined the canal and cycled north as far as we could, ending up in a bizarre estate, where the path just fizzled out.

From here, we rejoined the A roads and made haste as we all wanted to make it to the Lake District by evening.  I had been hard selling how beautiful the Lakes were and they did not disappoint.  Our only issue was that we had to visit several campsites until we could find a pitch.  We ended up having a free pitch due to a very generous campsite owner and our charity ride status.

All in all, after the blandness of the previous day, today’s cycle ride was green, pleasant, fast and memorable.  Definitely a good cycle ride.  The promise of the Lakes was only slightly marred in the knowledge that I knew the terrain would get touch with all those mountains and hills to cross!

I ended the day rewarding myself with a few games of Sudoku.

Day 8: Kelsall to Ecclestone

Total mileage: 55
Terrain: Hills – Easy but dull urban cycling

Having an easy day was a good way to easy off especially as I had been feeling ropey.  My knee continued to be a source of continual concern a it was quite painful as the day ran its course.  Mary was in much the same state.  Pete however, seemed to be resilient in all but his behind.  That said, we were all suffering a little as the Brooks saddles had not yet broken in comfortably.

Today’s cycling was pretty non-descript really.  We cycled through a lot of urban landscape, most of which was pretty grim.  We got lost crossing the Mersey and were helped out by a lovely guy called Jimmy.  He guided over the river at Runcorn and told us the way to go, to avoid the downtown sprawl north of there.  Unfortunately, this was advice we all thought the other had listened to as we got hopelessly lost.  Eventually, we spoke with an AA guy talking his lunch break who told us the best route.

Overall, the day was perhaps one of the most forgettable of the entire trip.  We stopped in Ecclestone and stayed in a B&B.  Most of the day was spent looking at grim scenery and cycling through depressed urban landscapes.

Day 7: Middleton to Kelsall

Total mileage: 56
Terrain: Hills – Comfortable with a few hills

After the previous day’s ride, all three of us were pretty tired.  We had decided to make it a short cycle day an to have the afternoon to relax, wherever we ended up.

The weather was fantastic as we retraced a few miles back on the previous day’s journey along the busy A road.  Once back on the small country roads, the traffic disappeared and the cycling was good.

We stopped for a bite to eat at a small grocery in a tiny village, which I have forgotten the name of.  From here, we headed past a field with a satellite dish plonked in the middle of it, very surreal.

Overall, the cycling was enjoyable but nothing spectacular.  The camping site was fully and we ended up having to pitch at the bottom of a slope.  However, the locals were extremely friendly and offered us from bangers and a drink!

The only ol in the ointment was that I felt terrible (probably too much sun) and Pete had a nightmare trying to organise our return journeys from John O’Groats

Day 6: Ewyas Harold to Middleton

Total mileage: 85
Terrain: Hills – Sustained high climbing

Today was a hard, hard day in the saddle.  We cycled for 13 hours over some of the toughest terrain of the trip and ended up pulling in to the camp ground after dark.  That was not great as the campsite was on a major road and the traffic was unrelenting.

After a sterling breakfast and a generous contribution to the cycling fund by Mark, we started the log slog.  The countryside was undulating to varying degrees of punishment.  We had our first encounter of inclement weather, with a sudden downpour in mid hill climb.  Although we sported out waterproof jackets, the temperature was sufficiently warm as to make us all rather clammy within moments of donning our Gortex.

The landscape was very similar to Devon with perhaps more sheep.  We travelled via Hereford, a rather non-descript town, then northwards to Ludlow, Craven Arms and Church Stretton.  We side stepped Shrewbery and headed over to Oswestry, turning north east to Middleton, where we camped.

13 hours cycling is tough and the setting sun was stressful as none of us had decent lights as we had not intended to cycle in the evenings.  We also got lost which cost us precious time and added another 8 miles to our ride.  However, over coming the challenge was really rewarding.  None of us were up for more than eating, washing and then sleep.  Although we were quite jubilant, none of us had enough energy to share our enthusiasm.

I will remember the day in particular as it was out longest day in the saddle for the whole trip.  Although 85 miles might not seem that far to some, you have to remember that we were on heavy bikes, with large loads, cycling through very hilly terrain.  Add to that the fact that both Mary and I were suffering from knee injuries and were knocking back pain killers periodically; I was really chuffed with the day’s achievements.

A Healthy Glow

Perhaps a little aftersun Julio?
Perhaps a little aftersun Julio?
Bridges, Canals and General English Pleasantness
An attempt to ween ourselves of fryups
An attempt to ween ourselves of fryups
Everything. So much colourful, prepackacked, un-organic goodness for lunch that day!
Everything. So much colourful, prepackacked, un-organic goodness for lunch that day!

Day 5: Yatton to Ewyas Harold

Total mileage: 72
Terrain: Hills – challenging with some really tough moments

After the pleasure and comfort afforded us by Andrew, we headed off, through the increasingly complex urban streets and cul-de-sacs of Yatton on a glorious sunny morn.  Although we got underway in the rush hour, we soon left the slow moving traffic behind by taking smaller, less obvious routes.

Within half an hour, we crossed the M5 and then headed up towards Avonmouth, via Clevedon and Portishead.  Much of the route was along intense A roads but fortunately the West Country drivers were courteous enough to pass us at a sensible distance.

Avonmouth is an absolute hole of a place where we unfortunately were stuck for an hour or so as the signs were nonsensical.  After talking to a teacher manning the gates of a local school, we found our way onto the cycle path and over to Seven Beach, where we jumped onto the Severn Bridge and crossed our first border.

Wales much not surprisingly much the same as England, save for the broken glass on the cycle track.  We headed towards Chepstow for lunch and found a small grassy knoll.

After filling our bellies up, we took the A466 on one of the best rides of the trip, through the Welsh valleys up to Monmouth.  The mountainous landscape covered in green trees was much like Scandinavia.  We all pelted around the roads at great speed, enjoying the relatively traffic-free roads.

After getting lost in Monmouth, we escaped, taking another very pleasant road, the B4347, north west towards Pontrilas.  We were all pretty knackered as the terrain was very hilly.  All of us were on heavy steal bikes, weighed down by our luggage.  Although we had anticipated that the toughest parts were in Devon and Cornwall, Wales offered equally challenging roads.

We passed through Ewyas Harold ending up in Abbey Dore.  Unfortunately, due to a completely random choir singing contest, we were unable to find anywhere to stay.  We were lucky enough to befriend a local publican who called a few B&Bs in the area, and ended up finding us a lovely room back in Ewyas Harold.

We were greeted by the landlord, Mark, who turned out to be a lovely guy.  He and his daughter invited us in with a very cheery demeanour and cooked us a sumptuous meal, much needed after the long day’s ride.