Lands End to John O Groats Cycle Ride
Lands End to John O Groats Cycle RideEaster 2008
City Slickers Team Members
Before we start - a big thank you to
Pewseys. Eclipse whose website gave us a great route to follow (we followed much of their route map at the bottom of this page).
Day 1 - Are we having fun yet? We had driven down to Penzance on the Thursday with all the gear and made the most of the local ales. The 8am train arrived from London along with Bob, the final member of the team. It was less than 20 minutes to reach a desolate Lands End but when we did, the gale force winds nearly blew us away as we prepared the gear and bikes.
A few other fit looking cyclists took off along with a girl who was carrying all her gear in panniers and had already cycled 10 miles from the train in Penzance. We could have felt guilty but we were having trouble standing up in the wind. Final photos and despite Steve getting lost on the way to the start, we set off at 9.15am,
If was a surprising gentle start along empty lanes. We eventually hurtled down a narrow road into sunny Penzance and rode past St Michael‘s Mount. Got lost once (a sign would have helped) and made a 3 mile detour. Steve had drunk too much coffee at breakfast and needed 3 pees in the first 20 miles. Rich ’mudguts’ Jack was complaining about a dodgy stomach which prevented him from leaving Steve and Bob in his dust. “Must have been last night’s overindulgence”. “Could have been your week of overindulgence” chipped in Steve.
There was a lovely path by the estuary which took us around to the King Harry Ferry but a couple of terrible hills to climb before descending to the ferry. It took less than 10 minutes to cross which was faster than the time it took us to climb the hill up away from the ferry.
Rich made an “executive decision” to take a side road which was actually a 1:6 descent to a village which meant it was a tough climb back up. Steve cracked and had to step off the bike for a minute.
At the top, there were desperate attempts to contact Gerry. It was 3pm. We had covered 51 miles and 36 hills and we needed some lunch and morale boosting. No signal. Gerry was actually 200m around the corner. Doh! Gerry made a splendid lunch as we hid from the wind in the van, We were seriously knackered and absent of energy stores.
We knew we only had 15 or so miles to reach St Austall and decided to scrap our intended route and use the main road all the way there. Cars rushed past especially up the hills but we were on a mission and forced ourselves on. Gerry had already booked accommodation for the evening, so with daylight to spare we cycled through St Austell and headed for Lostwithal. It was hilly with a headwind against us.
Rich was cycling ahead and then pulling in to get his breath back. At hill 50, he cracked feeling washed out with his ever possible exploding stomach. Hill 51 was the sting in the tail and it went on for 1 and ½ miles (not that we knew this). By the time we had climbed this with a head wind against us, we were ready to finish.
Gerry picked us up and drove us back to our accommodation. Rich and Gerry holed up in a guest house to avoid various snoring from Steve and Bob who stayed in a pub. During the pub meal, Rich cried off alcohol due to his stomach. Steve made up for this by throwing up in his room during the night. Bob was still hungry and was reduced to eating day two’s supplies of peanuts and chocolate bars.
What you (don’t) need to know:
Distance covered: 70 miles (inc 3 mile detour when we got lost)
Steve “I’ll just be a minute” Gibbs
Bob “Are you going to eat that?” Jack
Gerry ”Where the hell are you now?”Roos
Place reached: Between St Austells and Lostwithial
Cycling time: 7 and ½ hours
Number of hills climbed: 50
Fastest speed: 35.4 mph
Average speed: 9.8 mph
Calories burnt: 6001
Calories eaten by Steve and Bob: Probably more than 6001
Most common moan “What? Another hill?”
Weather: Very windy but dry.
Roadkill Spotted: Rabbits
Accommodation: Duke of Cornwall Pub, St Austell
Day 2: Oh No Moor
Saturday March 22ndAfter a full English breakfast, Gerry dropped us where we had finished yesterday with a foreboding “you realise the hills are pretty bad to Lostwithial”. He wasn’t kidding, We all nearly lost our breakfasts trying to climb the first five hills which just seemed to get steeper. Coming down one of them, we reached an astounding speed of 38 mph!
Rich was feeling better but Steve had a sore right knee and brought up the rear pacing himself. It was just as windy as yesterday but the rain held off. Going across the moors we were nearly blown off our bikes a few times. Going down one hill we were doing 24mph and in seconds were blasted back to 14mph by some invisible force. There were cows in the road, Dartmoor ponies grazing and sheep and lambs covering the landscape. But the hills were relentless. One went up for over 1 ½ miles.
We crossed the River Tamar into Devon around midday. We peddled by Brentor which stood out above the surrounding countryside and pulled into Lydford Gorge where Gerry had an excellent picnic lunch waiting. Steve started taking seriously strong pain killers and his knee improved. An excellent bicycle path took us all the way to Okehampton and we headed for Exeter.
En route, we took a wrong turning, and went charging down a hill only to be met by the steepest hill (Number 54 today) we had seen. Half way up, breathless and over emotional, we came to the conclusion that noone in their right mind would attempt to cycle this. “Run away!”. We retraced our steps and had to climb back up the hill we had just cruised down. Doh! Rich had given up on his GPS preferring to following a map.
We entered Exeter around 4.30pm and had to deal with late Saturday afternoon traffic but we eventually found the deserted Devon and Cornwall Police Headquarters. We had excellent rooms. Steve was so exhausted that he put his room key down somewhere and took 40 minutes to find it. Bob had enough energy to get to Tescos to get some wine and Rich had enough energy to complain that his co-riders were weak and worthless.
Rump steaks at a local pub. Gerry was kept awake by a ‘dodgy pint of London Pride’ and the fact that he could hear Bob snoring next door like an earthquake.
What you (don’t) need to know:
Distance covered: 75 miles (inc 2 mile detour when we got lost)
Total distance so far: 145 miles
Place reached: Exeter
Cycling time: 8 and 1/4hours
Number of hills climbed: 64
Fastest speed: 38.2 mph
Average speed: 9.0 mph
Calories burnt: 5664
Calories eaten by Steve and Bob: Ran out of food
Most common moan “Gerry. Stay there!”
Most outstanding moan - Rich “I have gears like a Fiat Panda”.
Weather: Very windy but dry apart from slight occasional hail
Accommodation: Devon & Cornwall Police HQ
Roadkill spotted: Badger
Day 3 – “Just a couple of miles to the bridge”
Sunday March 23rdLeaving Exeter at 8am, it began to pour with rain and did not let up for two hours. We got soaked but the A38 was a good fast road and relatively empty on an Easter Sunday morning. We entered Somerset and reached Taunton around 11am much earlier than expected.
We attempted to follow a cycle path along a canal and passed a church bells ringing next to a pub called ’Ring of Bells’. We lost the path, and rode around until we found the Bridgewater Canal. The sun came out and we had a lovely towpath ride next to the canal. It was flat and very scenic.
As we approached Bridgewater for lunch, it started to rain again and then we were attacked by a hailstorm. Gerry had our picnic ready, and we attempted to dry out. Bridgewater’s car drivers were the worst we’d come across - aggressive and impatient and we were happy to get onto quieter roads again.
At a village called Mark, we were directed up a lane which turned out to be the wrong way but the detour was not too bad. At least, it was not as bad as the climb through the Mendips towards Bristol. Hill 15 will forever be etched on Steve’s legs.
Then it flattened out and we headed towards Portishead, where we had been offered rooms by the Somerset and Avon Police HQ. We had time and daylight to spare so decided to push on to the Seventh Bridge.
We crossed the Avonmouth Motorway bridge with strong winds blowing from all directions and could see our destination in the distance. We cycled through endless ugly industrial estates (‘Juggernaut City’) heading for Aust Services.
Gerry was waiting for us at the South Gloucestershire sign. “Just a couple of miles to the bridge” he said. Rich and Steve went off like men possessed. Rich was going strong for a couple of miles and suddenly Steve blasted ahead - this was a first during the trip. He took off and left the other two behind only to have the better paced tortoise, Bob pass him. It turned out that just a couple of miles was actually six. Rich crawled in third claiming he had ‘bonked’ (run out of energy).
Gerry drove us back to Portishead and lovely warm rooms at the Police HQ. We dined on takeaway Chinese and lagers and had the place to ourselves.
What you (don’t) need to know:
Distance covered: 97 miles
Total distance so far: 242 miles
Place reached: (Old) Seventh Bridge
Cycling time: 8 hrs 20 min
Number of hills climbed: 25
Fastest speed: 30.2 mph
Average speed: 11.4 mph
Calories burnt: 6373
Most common moan “These cycle paths are a waste of time”
Weather: Rain, hail, wind
Accommodation: Somerset Police HQ
Roadkill spotted: Dog
Day 4 – “You’ll thank me for this route”
Monday March 24th
We were dropped at the start of the old Seventh Bridge at 8.30am and cycled over it with the new Seventh Bridge over to our right. Entering Wales, we bypassed Chepstow and headed up the very picturesque Wye Valley, past Tintern Abbey. It was a lovely undulating route following the River Wye and looking down on it. We passed through Monmouth and made excellent time reaching Hereford after 39 miles. We were in Shropshire.
There was an endless hill to climb (Hill 21) before hail and sleet blew around us. The latter half of the day to Shrewsbury was flat but windy. We gobbled up the miles following the fast main A49 road and were ahead of schedule by the time we stopped. Rich was very pleased that his cunning route had paid off and shaved off some miles. Steve was eating so much food during the breaks that he was nicknamed ‘Scooby Doo’ with his non stop Scooby Snacks.
Gerry drove us to Newport where we stayed with an old friend and his family who made us feel very welcome and fed us until we were ready to burst. It was nice to have some home comforts.
What you (don’t) need to know:
Distance covered: 89 miles
Total distance so far: 337 miles
Place reached: Shrewsbury.
Cycling time: 7 hrs 50 min
Number of hills climbed: 36
Fastest speed: 38. Mph
Average speed: 11 mph
Calories burnt: 6382
Most common moan “Steve - stop eating!”
Weather: Rain, hail, wind
Accommodation: Friend
Roadkill spotted: Rat, Pheasant, Rook
Day 5- Its grim oop north
Tuesday March 25thDropped back just south of Shrewsbury we continued north on the A49 which was busy but fast. We went cycling. It was what we did. Entering Cheshire we pushed onto Whitchurch. After lunch, we stayed on the even busier A49 like a lifeline and passed through Warrington, a seemingly endless row of corporate branding with traffic roaring around between the superstores. We couldn’t wait to get out of there.
We skirted around the M6, but there was still lots of large lorries on our road. Wigan came and went. Nothing stood out about any of the places we passed through.
Just south of Preston, we passed through Leyland and made for the Lancashire Police HQ. On a sharp turning with gravel, Bob came sliding off his bike but survived with just a grazed knee. Jerry had everything unpacked in our excellent en-suite rooms. The evening was spent at the best value carvery that we had ever seen. Plates piled high, we congratulated ourselves on being even further ahead of schedule. We had cycled through three counties today.
What you (don’t) need to know:
Distance covered: 88 miles
Total distance so far: 425 miles
Place reached: SW Preston (outskirts).
Cycling time: 7 hrs 08 min
Number of hills climbed: 17
Fastest speed: 28 mph
Average speed: 12.4 mph
Altitude climbed: 3473 ft (highest hill 529ft)
Calories burnt: 6591
Most common moan “Why are these cities so ugly?”
Weather: Rain, hail, wind
Accommodation: Lancaster Police HQ
Roadkill spotted: Otter, Cat, Badger
Day 6- Dissecting our way through the Fells
Wednesday March 26thAfter breakfast with the local police cadets, we discovered Bob’s front tyre was flat so we changed the inner tube and set off into Preston. It began to pour with rain and our mood was not improved with the rush hour traffic and a determined effort by Preston to not have any signs for the A6. We spent an hour trying to escape, finally asking a local policeman. The rain would not let up for 8 hours!
Once on the A6, and ignoring the heavy traffic, we made good time - only 2 hills before lunch. We passed through Lancaster which was ‘celebrating cycling’ on it’s signposts. Not that we saw anyone else cycling in the rain or many cycle paths.
Eventually, we found a cycle path that followed the Lancaster Canal. It was a relief to escape the heavy traffic. Then Bob’s front tyre deflated. A second puncture. Rich and Steve used their finely used talents to quickly replace it under an old bridge. Jerry was waiting at Carnforth with a quick lunch by the moored canal boats.
Originally, we had hoped to reach Carlisle, an ambitious target, but with the delays in Preston and the two punctures, we were behind schedule and the non stop rain was just strength sapping. Rich seemed to be cycling like a man possessed but Steve and Bob were wet and cold and just going through the motions. It was one of those days where keeping going was just as important as where you ended up.
Rich had another cunning plan to avoid the hills around Kendall and led us away from the A6 to Kirby Lonsdale. Bob’s front tyre seemed to have a slow puncture. He was forced to stop and pump it up every few miles and the distance became shorter between pumping, The front inner tube was replaced for the third time (we were getting good at this). A tiny stone was found embedded in the tyre which had caused the slow puncture(s).
We had only had a few hills before lunch but the afternoon saw some ferocious hills to climb. Steve outdid himself by being the only person to cycle up Hill 15 without stopping and declared that a 300% increase in Scooby Snacks had got him though. He was going so well, he left the others and cycled half way up another long hill before Rich had to contact him by phone to say he was going the wrong way. Bugger.
We cycled over desolate moors with sheep and lambs grazing by the road side, A scattering of snow lay on the upper peaks. We passed an impressive aqueduct at the bottom of the steepest hill we had yet descended. The lane was narrow, twisty and wet. For once, we were forced to use our brakes to go down a hill. Somewhere through the hills, we climbed one which was 1000 ft in height.
There was one last series of hills up to Shap, By now the rain had stopped - eight hours too late - dusk was falling. There was no way we would reach Carlisle but Gerry had found us a B&B in Penrith, With 12 miles to go, we launched a final attack. The rain started again, but it was a race against the falling daylight. Richard’s gears had mal functioned but he still flew ahead. We were glad that we had our back lights to let drivers know that idiots were ahead.
It started to pour with rain again. It felt like our hardest day - the awful weather, the punctures, the effect of the steep hills on our legs. Nevertheless, we reached our B&B in Penrith. Rich and Gerry headed for Halford’s for a 90 minute service which was done for free (big thank you). Steve and Bob dried off. Every piece of cycling gear was soaked.
A dull and uninteresting evening was spent in a Penrith pub but mostly because we were just exhausted.
What you (don’t) need to know:
Distance covered: 88 miles
Total distance so far: 513 miles
Place reached: Penrith.
Cycling time: about as long as the rain lasted
Number of hills climbed: 37
Fastest speed: 37 mph
Average speed: 12 mph
Altitude climbed: 3272 ft (highest hill 1077ft)
Calories burnt: 8222
Most common moan “What? Another puncture?”
Weather: Rain (8 hrs non stop, 1 hr break then 1 more hour of rain)
Accommodation: Blue Swallow Guest House, Penrith
Roadkill spotted: 3 dead inner tubes
Day 7- Scotland beckons
Thursday March 27thThe warm guesthouse had dried all the gear but it was still raining when we left Penrith (is there a rain god over this place?) It had disappeared by the time we reached the bustling city of Carlisle 17 miles north on the A6. We were glad we had stayed in sleepy Penrith and agreed that we would not had made Carlisle last night.
Joining the busy A74, we headed northwest to the Scottish border and crossed at Gretna Green. Across the road, a cyclist pulled up with paniers at the old Smithy. He had left John O Groats four days before with a good wind behind him. He was the only other LE-JOG cyclist we had seen since the first day in Cornwall. Psychologically, we were boosted – we might be finished within 5 days given the headwinds.
We had also reached our third country. Steve and Gerry had never visited Scotland. It was like going abroad for them. Rich had told Steve that everyone walked about in kilts carrying bagpipes – so it was a bit of a shock when we saw someone just like that. They had just taken part in a funeral and were leaving the graveyard.
With just the wind rather than the rain to contend with, we pushed on and did 55 miles by the time we pulled into Halfords in Dumfries for lunch. Bob’s front wheel felt buckled going down the hills, but when inspected, it was just a non aligned tyre – nothing to do with the three punctures yesterday! Ian Adam the mechanic also sorted Steve out with a new back light. Rich had discovered that his cog teeth were wearing out and he could only choose a few gears to deal with the hills. It was the day our bikes started to fall apart. How long before the riders did the same?
We had estimated that Ayr was a possible nightstop, before we took stock of the effect of the headwind against us. We followed the lovely River Nith by the side of the A76. Then the rain started again and stopped. Large trucks roared past perilously close.
Gerry was starting to second guess the conditions and our exhausted bodies. As with yesterday, he had found a B&B ten miles closer than we anticipated. Steve had been suffering and was the most grateful. We all were.
The Rigg House B&B just north of Kirkconnel turned out to be a huge, newly decorated family run mansion. The rooms were enormous. We headed for Sanguhar and holed up in a friendly local pub. Steve started to sample the Scottish whiskies which later seemed to improve his performance on his bike. Back at the B&B with takeaways, Rich found a guitar and serenaded the others with his ‘Preston Blues’. It was a really comfortable night and we all thought it would be a great place for a weekend.
What you (don’t) need to know:
Distance covered: 87 miles
Total distance so far: 600 miles
Place reached: Kirkconnel, Scotland just north of Sanguhar on A75
Cycling time: too long for Steve
Number of hills climbed: 22
Average speed: 12 mph
Altitude climbed: 3437 ft (highest hill – 619ft)
Calories burnt: 5911
Most common moan “When do we get a wind behind us?”
Weather: Headwind against us all day. Rain in afternoon (just for a change)
Accommodation: Rigg House B&B www.rigghouse.com (Very recommended)
Roadkill spotted: Squirrel
Day 8- “Lets head ‘em over the pass”
Friday March 28th
We had been cycling for a week and the weather had been temperamental to say the least. This morning we awoke to snow. We could have holed up and spent a lazy morning in the warm, but who you gonna call - ‘Snowbusters’?.
Our dilemma was that we were heading for the Isle of Arran to circumvent Glasgow. There were only four ferries a day. There was one at 12.30pm and another at 3pm. All things considered, we felt, given the weather, we would make it for the 3pm ferry.
After our first excellent Scottish breakfast we headed off into the freezing snow. The snow turned to rain but somehow we seemed to be on a mission to get the section over and done with as soon as possible.
We cycled up the A76, bypassed Kilmarnock and joined the A71 dual carriageway. The wind was finally behind us, but the rain was in our faces and the trucks were powering past, throwing up spray. We cycled like it was our last finish. When Bob stopped to take a photo of the ‘Ayrshire’ roadsign Rich was so full of adrenalin that he could only yell “Lets head ‘em off over the pass” and peddle on.
It was the heaviest rain that we had experienced but it was flat and fast. We cycled for two hours at 16.2 mph average – an astounding speed for the conditions. Gerry had a cunning shortcut to get us off the A71 and we peddled the last miles through the local towns to reach the Ferry terminal by 11am. We were either getting very fit on the bikes or the weather no longer phased us. We were drenched but pleased to have ridden so hard.
Drying off in the ferry terminal, we boarded the 12.30pm ferry to Broderick, to find that, surprise, surprise, Bob had another puncture. This time it was the back wheel. On the one hour ferry crossing, a back tyre and inner tube were replaced.
Broderick, the main port on Arran hadn’t changed in years. We only had 16 miles to cover to Lochranza where a ferry would take us north back to the mainland. We were treating Arran like a rest day. We pottered along the quiet road by the coast through a few sleepy hamlets enjoying the restful pace and flat surface and tolerating the occasional shower. The mountains were all covered in snow. There was a small herd of deer on the slopes.
Then we saw the pass rising through the mountains to Lochranza. This turned out to be the longest uphill stretch we had yet attempted, very steep in parts. It was a case of keeping our heads down and regulating our breathing. From the top we looked, rather breathlessly back down what we had climbed and headed downhill all the way to the sleepy tiny inlet of Lochranza. Gerry picked us up and took us back to Broderick for the night.
We had excellent accommodation at the Carrick Lodge and dined on local venison at a busy pub, followed by a pub crawl through a handful of pubs.
What you (don’t) need to know:
Distance covered: 57 miles
Total distance so far: 657 miles
Place reached: Lochranza, Isle of Arran
Number of hills climbed: 13
Calories burnt: 4606
Most common moan “bloody rain!”
Weather: snow, heavy rain most of the day
Accommodation: Carrick Lodge, Broderick, Isle of Arran
Day 9- “Lets cycle another 10 miles so you can have your next moan”
Saturday March 29thThe first Lochranza ferry left at 9.30am but holding only a few cars, we arrived an hour before hand to ensure a place. As it was, only three vehicles, including ours boarded. The thirty minute crossing took us to Claonaig. We felt very rested after our brief stay on Arran.
Today, heavy rain had been forecast so we wanted to make the most of backwind behind us. A single track road led us to the A83 which was a rollercoaster ride with a series of long challenging hills but also some fast descents. After cycling past West Loch Tarbet, we passed through Tarbet with its harbour at low tide and strangely church tower. At Lochgilphead, we joined the A816 heading north to Oban. We stopped somewhere for a quick lunch. There were lots of sheep today with lambs jumping about. Three hours into our ride, it began to pour with rain – seriously big rain where the drops thudded off our helmets. Gritting our teeth, we just ploughed through the rain, up and down the hills but the cold wind froze our hands and feet. The spray coming off trucks added to our delightful ride. By the time we reached Oban, we were drenched and freezing cold. We sheltered in a bus shelter out of the driving rain. Steve was fed up with the weather and ate extra amounts of Scooby snacks to cheer himself up. Rich’s motivational talk was “Lets cycle another 10 miles so you can have your next moan!” So we did, and he did. We crossed Ardmucknish Bay at North Connel over a bridge and followed the rain up the A828 past Loch Creran and then with the huge Lock Linnhe on our left. Everything looked so bleak in the rain. Originally, we had hoped to push an bit extra today to Fort William but by the time we pulled into Ballachulish around 6pm as dusk fell, we had cycled enough. Gerry had booked us into a guesthouse annex which was very comfortable and allowed us to dry everything out for a fourth night in a row. The evening was spent at the only bar in town. As you do on a Saturday night. What you (don’t) need to know:Day 10- “Don’t let the **** beat you!”
Sunday March 30thThe clocks had gone forward an hour overnight. Gerry, as usual, had everything packed and squared away in the van before breakfast. He was an excellent road manager and very organized. Originally, we had thought it would be three days to John O Groats, but looking at the map, we estimated with a long day, we could possibly do it in two.
From Ballachulish, we continued to follow Loch Linnhe which had thinned in width. Today we had fine views of the loch and of the snow capped mountains. We passed through Fort William (where supermarkets opened at 9am on a Sunday morning until 8pm!) and kept on the A82, failing to see Ben Nevis.
The sun came out and the scenery looked spectacular – real Scottish highlands at last with the yellow gorse in bloom. After the Commando Memorial at Spear Bridge we reached Loch Lochy and pushed onto Fort Augustus for lunch. Here, the Caledonian Canal allowed boats to pass through a series of lochs into Loch Ness.
With the wind behind us and good weather, we motored on past Loch Ness. We were crossing Scotland in a SW-NE direction right across its fault line. The stunning location of the ruined Urqhart Castle was our beacon to head inland via Drumnadrochit and prepare ourselves for the next ordeal – a 1:8 hill (Hill 15 today). This was a terrible punishment and beat us all. We had to walk up some of it. As we did, a local came down on his bike hanging onto his spaniel dog sitting on the handlebars. Not something you see everyday.
The good news when we finally reached the top, sweating like pigs, was that we now had a downhill and it went on forever. With a backwind behind us, we reached speeds of 39 mph.
The A833 took us through Beauly, where a drunk man was standing outside the pub around 4pm having a smoke. He saw Rich come past and started cheering. When Bob followed minute later, he yelled “Don’t let the **** beat you!” It became our mantra for the rest of the day.
We pushed hard to Dingwall on the A862, where Gerry had found us accommodation, but it was still light and dry and the terrain was flat. Why not keep going and bag a few extra miles which would almost guarantee a finish tomorrow.
So we headed for the A9. As soon as we did, a downpour started and drenched us. We were used to that and pedaled on. The A9 was full of impatient Sunday drivers trying to go home, held up by slower trucks. We flew along the road and before we knew it, we had covered an extra 18 miles to Tain. We were cycling like our lives depended on it.
When Steve finally caught up, he was fit to drop. “I have never been so exhausted in my life” he repeated again for the umpteenth time that day. He looked shattered but managed to find enough energy to eat something. We packed the bikes on the van and drove back to Dingwall.
It was a lovely little town full of classy stone Victorian architecture but only one decent bar which did good food and beer. Not many people were out on a Sunday night. It made a change to have daylight at 8pm.
What you (don’t) need to know:
Distance covered: 111 miles
Total distance so far: 863 miles
Place reached: Dingwall
Cycling time: 8 hrs 13
Number of hills climbed: 19
Average speed: 14.2 mph
Top Speed: 39mph
Calories burnt: 8308
Most common moan “I have never been so tired in my life”
Weather: rain, dry, rain - good back wind
Accommodation: Fairview House, Dingwall
Day 11- “You might as well do the white line”
Monday March 31stIt was do or die time. Originally we had planned to head up the middle to Tongue and across the top, but when we looked at the map, the A9 would be shorter. We had been following it yesterday and as long as we kept to the white line by the side we felt safe. “You might as well do the white line” whined Rich, Oasis style (Cigarettes and Alcohol). We thought we’d have a good chance of getting there in one day especially with the extra daylight.
Gerry drove us to Tain and we unloaded the bikes. It was sunny but cold and took us a little while to get warmed up on the bikes, but the road was fast and relatively flat. We crossed a long, low bridge across the Dornoch Firth, skirted around the tiny Loch Fleet and followed the coastal road by the sea.
We had been told by the B&B landlord that there were two ‘killer’ hills and he was not wrong. Hills 10 and 12 were endless steep winding tortures, equal to anything as bad as we had tackled, and with tired legs even harder.
Nevertheless, the down hills were sweet. On one, we reached speeds of over 44 mph, a new record for us and it could have been faster except for a sharp bend at the bottom.
The miles seemed to disappear quickly. It was flatter, yet undulating, the wind was generous and after ten days in the saddle, we were fitter and used to the distances. We pushed on for 58 miles before we stopped for lunch which was a new record for us.
We had been following the coast and could see the cliffs on one side and sheep and newly born lambs on the other. We powered into Wick, the last major settlement and when we saw less than 20 miles to go, we just kept moving on the A99. The wind was with and against us, but the rain held off. It was splendid weather for the final day. No-one missed the rain.
The last few miles were downhill and almost an anticlimax to what we had tackled during the last 11 days, but we didn’t mind. We cruised down to an almost deserted John O Groats. Gerry had to find a local man to put up the signs and take photos of us.
But we had finished. It was just after 3pm and we had completed our trip two days ahead of the anticipated schedule. Admittedly, we all looked tired, but then you would.
Once loaded. Gerry drove us to Inverness, back over what we had cycled, three hours south for a final B&B and a night out on the town.
It would take a little while for it all to sink in but we all knew it would be a long time before we wanted to go for a bike ride again.
What you (don’t) need to know:
Distance covered: 87 miles
Total distance so far: 950 miles
Place reached: John O Groats
Cycling time: 6hr 29
Number of hills climbed: 19
Average speed: 13.5 mph
Top Speed: 44.6 mph
Calories burnt: 6108
Most common moan “I am never getting on a bike again”
Weather: windy but dry
Accommodation: The Craich B&B , Inverness
Roadkill: Seagull, Cat, Squirrel.
Those all important final statistics:
Total distance covered: 950 milesWe followed the route below except for the final day when we followed the east coast - map care of Pewseys. Eclipse
