Monday 3rd June 2019
Lucky or what? Here I am again on my way back to Scotland for another cycling trip. For the past decade or so, I’ve taken part in a 3-day charity bike ride in Scotland which this year starts in Prestwick on Thursday and heads to Skye. Usually, I’d drive to Prestwick, but now I’ve a bit more time, I decided to ride instead.
Once I’d announced my intentions, it wasn’t long before I’d got company on the trip, and once more, it has rather complex logistics.
The first leg, to Penrith, was with Ian, Richard, and a very welcome tailwind (again!). It was a rather swift ride, so much so that I didn’t have chance to take any photos. (Looking at my Garmin stats, it was a harder ride than I realised; 51 hours recovery time??? I have to be in Prestwick before then.)
(As things turned out, Ian had to turn back due to mechanical difficulties and only joined us in Shap after getting his bike repaired)
Tomorrow’s trip will be a short solo leg to Dumfries where hopefully I will meet up with two friends, one travelling down from Scotland, one up from England. They will ride the final leg with me on Wednesday. (Did they know about the forecasted rain for tomorrow?) But looking on the bright side, the wind is still favourable.
Tuesday 4th June 2019
Today’s weather was much better than forecast and I managed to get to Carlisle in the dry. Before today, I’d never been to Carlisle; well I’ve been through on the train, but that doesn’t count. That’s like saying you’ve been to Amsterdam when you’ve only changed planes at Schiphol. Anyway, I can now add Carlisle to my list of cities visited, and I was quietly impressed. It has at least one fine café (Brewed Awakening), an excellent sandwich shop (La Baguette Bar), a cathedral and a castle. What more could anyone want? Well, fine weather might be one thing…
Yes, it rained there, and I ended up eating my baguette sitting in gentle rain on a bench in the cathedral grounds. I’d bought it to eat later, but worried that the rain might get worse, I cut my losses and ate it immediately.
As it turned out, 10 miles later it stopped raining and I had a clear ride into Dumfries along the beautiful Solway coast.
I passed the Devil’s Porridge museum, which was a fascinating place telling the story of how high explosive for 1st World war bombs was mixed on this site (this was the devil’s porridge). Great place with a wonderful name and an amazing history.
Joanne, who was cycling down from Troon to meet me didn’t have the same luck with the weather, and suffered headwinds and rain for much of the day. She’ll be OK tomorrow when she’s got me for company – I’ve ordered good weather again – although we got soaked walking to the pub, so perhaps she brings her own clouds with her?
The accommodation tonight is brilliant! There is a wonderful dog who wanders into the bedroom unannounced and just makes the place seem so homely and welcoming. It’s my final day with luggage tomorrow. I’ll enjoy ditching the panniers and getting back to a lightweight road bike again. Until then…
Wednesday 5th June 2019
The Prestwick Cycle Challenge can now officially begin since, after three days and 221 miles, I’ve finally arrived at the starting point. I was accompanied on today’s ride with Joanne and Jim. Jo had cycled down from Troon yesterday and had just managed to dry off overnight and was looking forward to having a tailwind back home. Jim had driven up from Preston this morning, arriving just as we’d finished our breakfast at Wetherspoons, the same place as last night’s dinner.
The second breakfast (real cyclists always have at least two) was in Moniaive but as soon as we got back on the road, the rain started, but this is Scotland, and precipitation is to be expected. We had half an hour of pretty heavy rain before it eased off, but in that time, our waterproofs were well tested, and in my case at least, found to be adequate. Lunch was in a quaint café in Dalmellington which had only very recently opened. We were lucky to be settled inside when the heavens opened once more but we had to face a further 90 minutes of gentle rain before reaching Ayr.
I have only been to Ayr twice previously, once when I was 11 (I don’t remember it) and once more a decade later when I arrived on a rail mystery tour on a wet Sunday in July (I don’t want to remember it). I’m sure it’s a lovely seaside resort and has much more to recommend it than being Burns’ birthplace, but I didn’t see it today.
I’m at a Premier Inn tonight, and by 9.30, the rest of the 12 people from England in our group had all arrived and are now busy swapping tales of previous years’ exploits whilst hydrating with beer prior to the effort I’m sure they plan to expend before Sunday. I’m not convinced that’s how hydration works, but I’m not telling them.
Not many photos today due to the rain. Early start tomorrow since we have to catch a 9.45 ferry from a port 19 miles away. Piece o’ cake!
Thursday 6th June 2019
I stopped being a cycle tourist today when I jettisoned the panniers. I kept the rack on the bike since I thought it might be useful to carry additional waterproofs and emergency baguettes. As it happened, neither were required today, but this is Scotland where you plan for the worst and hope for the best.
Cyclists only really want two things: fair weather and lots of food and drink. We got both today and gorgeous scenery as well – a bonus! The first route was mainly along cycle tracks to Ardrossan where we caught an early ferry to Brodick on Arran followed by a quick dash over to Lochranza to catch the next ferry back onto the mainland. This saved lots of miles cycling round to Inveraray via Glasgow and (in my view) does not count as cheating when I claim on Saturday that I’ve cycled from home to Skye. (I’m not going any further, though – Skye’s the limit.)
A wonderful detour to Kilberry on the Kintyre peninsula offered great views across to Jura, although the paps were modestly shrouded in mist today. The campsite at Lochgilphead was a very welcome sight after a considerable climb across the peninsula.
I always try to count my blessings, and today, I was helped by observing a luckless German tourist who had somehow managed to lock his keys in his car after he had parked at the very front of the ferry! Everyone behind him had to reverse so they could get off, whilst he had to sit in his car while the ferry returned to Lochranza, probably at additional cost to him! I’m not sure how it was resolved, but I am quite sure his wife still hasn’t forgiven him. Note to self: there’s always someone worse off than you. I’d love to tell you all about what happened when around 100 cyclists tried to buy food in Lochgilphead which seems to have only one decent pub and a fish and chip shop, but I’m tired and need to sleep – another early start tomorrow since we have to catch a ferry 40 miles away which leaves at 11.10.
Today, I’ve just realised that within the past 4 weeks I’ve managed to cycle from home to the Butt of Lewis in 8 days. OK, the days weren’t consecutive and they weren’t in the right order, but still… 558 miles if you’re interested.
More adventures from the Scottish Highlands later.
Friday 7th June 2019
Today was another two-ferry day when we hopped on and off Mull for the minimum time. After arriving in Craignure at noon, we took the next available ferry off the island via Fishnish at 13.10. The run to Oban was very smooth, and those of us who arrived early had sufficient time to have a (substantial) second breakfast – much appreciated. Whilst in Mull, we saw the cruise liner Queen Victoria, with its launch boats ferrying people back and forth to shore. Not sure I’d like that.
I was able to make good use of my improving cycle maintenance skills today. Laurence experienced a snapped front gear cable just before the largest climb, so we contacted the support crew who arranged for one to be delivered. Whilst waiting for it to arrive, we found that another supported group had a spare, which they ‘sold’ to us. It cost the price of a coffee! My labour came free and Loz was soon back on the road. For the next 10 miles, though, our temporary fix (to lock the bike in a low gear) would have been fine, since that was the only gear needed. The descent back to sea level was magnificent, if you consider hurtling down a mountainside at speeds approaching 50mph fun.
We are staying in the midge capital of Scotland tonight. Resipole campsite is beside a loch with a lovely bubbling stream running by the tent in warm, damp conditions. One (or more) of these features is attractive to midges, so they all congregate here and party, gorging their tiny selves on the fresh meat of 100 cyclists. I’m booked into the nearest restaurant at 8pm, which is apparently 2.5 miles away, but I’m frightened to leave my tent. The ‘Challenge’ of this event is usually considered the cycling part, but for me it’s camping in all weathers and/or battling insects. 70 hilly miles? That’s a doddle.
Saturday 8th June 2019
Midges are evil things. Last night was bad, but this morning was much, much worse. Inside the tent was tolerable (the midges that joined us soon perished from the chemical weapons we brought to bear), but outside, millions (possibly) sat on the tent flap waiting for us to venture out. Whilst we were trying to pack away the tent, the little blighters spotted their chance and moved in for the kill. I feel very lucky that I’m still here writing this and not just a pile of bones and some sundry clothing.
A few of us had agreed to depart at 7.30 today, but I was ready earlier, so I cycled slowly up and down the road until everyone else was ready. (It appears midges are unable to fly faster than 4mph, so I managed to keep out of their way.)
There were some serious climbs on the first leg to Mallaig and many more that were not serious, but just as energy-sapping. By the time we reached our second breakfast stop at Arisaig, we’d climbed almost 3000ft in 37 miles. One breakfast roll later, which was served at glacial speed, and we were on our way to the ferry, which was still 8 miles away. This necessarily turned out to be a much faster leg than anticipated, but we rolled onto the ferry at the last possible moment, looking for all the world that we’d planned all along to arrive with seconds to spare.
There is a great shop in Armadale which normally sells sandwiches, but their supplier let them down and the best that was on offer today was a selection of pies. However, I can thoroughly recommend their ‘breakfast pie’. (You may deduce that I’m big on breakfasts when cycling, whatever time of day). The direct road from Armadale to Broadford is just 16 miles and is flat (by Scottish standards), but this being a challenge, the route took us over some ridiculously steep hills which added 1600ft and a further 11 miles, although the scenery compensated considerably. The tarmac appeared to have been just rolled out over the undulating landscape with no effort made to level any of it out.
The final (and traditional) part of the event is a formal meal accompanied by copious amounts of whisky (for some), but for me, it’s my sleeping bag and the prospect of a lie in tomorrow before being bussed back to Prestwick.
Sunday 9th June 2019
It’s now 9am and it’s rained heavily for the past 3 hours to my knowledge, and it’s set to continue here all day. I can’t believe how lucky I’ve been with the weather this week – just one wet day, and then it was only proper rain for a couple of hours.
After the 221 miles and 10,500 feet of climbing to get to Prestwick, I then went on to cover a further 227 miles and 15,270 feet on the PCC. Just shy of 450 miles in 6 days and the equivalent of 3500 feet short of the top of Everest. With all the crowds there recently, I don’t reckon I’d want to up there queuing with all the rest. Update: the rain has just stopped for half an hour, enough time to drop the tents. Result! Just a 6 hour coach ride down to Prestwick followed by a 3.5 hour journey in the car and we’re home, ready for the next time.
