Crask Inn to John O' Groats

 June 23rd

The Crask Inn

The day began auspiciously. It was a beautiful morning. The sun was shining and the birds were singing and I was having a last breakfast on the road, looking out on the most magnificent Sutherland vista. Douglas, the host with the most, wished me good luck and told me that after the "little hill outside his door," it was all downhill to Altnahara ( a distance of 8 miles) I took it with the pinch of salt from my porridge BUT IT WAS TRUE. A glorious ride downhill through wonderful scenery. Whilst having breakfast Douglas had pointed at a cyclist going past on a strange looking recumbent contraption and we laughed at how difficult it must be to get any leverage going uphill. 

Peter and his amazing machine

Peter, an Englishman from just outside Oxford,  was the owner and constructor of the recumbent bicycle, which turned out to be a rather swish machine, despite its Heath Robinson origins. As I swept through Altnahara I saw the recumbent bicycle, its owner and a non cyclist chatting by the side of the road. It transpired that Mick, a school friend,  was acting as baggage carrier, water and food provisioner and back up to Peter who was riding the end to end on his strange contraption, for Shelter, a worthy cause. After a lengthy chat about our respective routes to here,  Peter suggested that we ride on together for a bit and he agreed to meet Mick at Bettyhill some 25 miles distant.

It was glorious countryside and as we chatted and rode the miles went past quickly. We found that his recumbent was in fact quite efficient and whilst I could climb more easily, whenever we went downhill his lesser air resistance meant that he sped ahead of me, which could only be counteracted by me dropping onto the droops and breaking my back to be more aerodynamic, a position I could hold for about 10 seconds! 

My guidebook eulogised about the morning's ride. "The first miles of the final leg between Crask Inn and Bettyhill provide some of Northern Europe's most sensational cycling, on a remarkable stretch of road that could have been designed to the exact specifications of the long distance cycle tourist" For once I found myself in complete agreement with Mr Masochist the hill lover.  It certainly wasn't designed for the construction traffic that was plying back and forth in the construction of a controversial new onshore wind farm. Until Bettyhill the route was brilliant, the company marvelous and the scenery breathtaking and the weather gorgeous.

Bettyhill arrived and all changed. Bettyhill was where in 2020 when we visited in September we encountered signs asking us to go home and take our covid with us. Not welcome was the message of severals signs outside Bettyhill houses. On Thursday morning in 2022 the terrain between Bettyhill and Reay (just before Dounereay nuclear facility) was definitely unwelcome. It consisted of a series of really steep climbs followed by serious descents only to climb again...... following the rugged cliffs of the northern coastline. On one of the climbs Peter and I were joined by Hans Peter, who it transpired in conversation had been Mayor of Davos in Switzerland ( home to the annual economic summits of the G7) He had cycled up the East coast and was planning to carry on beyond John o'Groats and descend via the West coast. His previous exploits ( after I stop the politic) included Sicily to the Arctic Circle in Norway and Switzerland to Tsiblisi in Georgia. 

We rode as a three for most of the rest of the day until we reached Thurso after an exhilirating descent during which I broke my record by reaching in excess of 60 kph. Peter was meeting Mick for something to eat and Hans Peter wanted to buy provisions in Lidl, so I telephoned Pauline and gave her an ETA of 5.30, two hours hence. I thought it was 18 miles to go at that point, but after I had ridden about a mile and a half through Thurso, I passed a sign - John O'Groats 20miles. Oops! I had better get a move on. 

The terrain consisted of long drags followed by shallow descents and I made good time until after the Castle of Mey ( which was the Queen Mother's estate) when the land turned a little South and the South West wind kicked up in my face for the last seven miles. Who said a challenge should be easy? I knew that Pauline would be waiting and that she would expect me to be early, but that was rapidly becoming impossible. In the end I arrived in John O'Groats at 17.30 exactly and Pauline was by the roadside to greet me with a huge hug and a heartfelt WELL DONE.

We made our way to THE sign where the obligatory pictures were taken. Just as we arrived at the sign Hanni, the German cyclist I had met at the start of day 2 at the Fowey ferry, arrived, and we shook hands and hugged like lifelong friends. He had followed the self same guide, in the same number of days, as myself  except that he was camping as as opposed to my luxury of a soft bed each night. It was really good to see him again. He was planning to cycle as far down the east before the start of the ladies' football European competition in Brentford on July 7th as he could, taking to the train as necessary (assuming no strikes)

Hanni had just departed when in rolled Peter on his amazing home made machine and we began another round of congratulations and photo shoots. Pauline was in her element shooting everyone from every angle. But there are only so many photos can be taken and I was beginning to get cold and feel a little deflated so we left and let someone else occupy the stage.

Did I enjoy it?    

It was certainly satisfying to tackle such a challenge and succeed. Enjoy? I certainly enjoyed some days but it was probably the hardest thing I have ever done so enjoy is hard to equate with a lot of the pain.

How did I feel at the end?   

I expected to feel a great sense of elation, of satisfaction of a challenge tackled head on and overcome but I can't honestly say that that was the case. I was glad I was finished. It was great to see Pauline who had supported me unstintingly throughout despite her misgivings about the whole project. It was great to share the finish with Pauline and my friends of the road but there was a certain feeling of "is that it?" at the end.

We went off to Thurso to spend the night and celebrate quietly our two selves. There were messages of congratulation galore and phone calls to field and the flatness morphed into a quiet glow of satisfaction at a job tackled and completed.

This morning as we drove from John O'Groats home, the messages of congratulation kept on coming as did the donations and then a golfing friend who wishes to remain anonymous weighed in with a whopping donation to take the total to over £5000 pounds ( + gift Aid) We were both blown away and the mood lifted and I gradually came to the realisation that I was immensely proud of having facilitated the raising of such a sum for Samaritans. As I was threatening to rush off to personally thank some of my principal benefactors and supporters as soon as we got home, Pauline was trying to dampen my enthusiasm for doing it tonight.

As we entered Dykeside it immediately became apparent why. There was bunting aplenty and a reception committee of more than a dozen of the denizens of the street. I was like a rabbit in the headlights. I was completely stunned and overwhelmed at the welcome home. After photos and hugs we repaired to our garden where Pauline had organised some celebratory fizz. The weather was in complete cooperation. The sun was out and the garden was looking at its best and all was well in my small corner of the world.

This is perhaps an appropriate time to review the trip of a lifetime. (be assured it won't be repeated)

I have been incredibly lucky on virtually every possible front.

1    The weather has been incredibly on my side. It has rained for a total of an hour and a half on the way from Windermere to Keswick.

2    My injured hamstring has given me not a single twinge in 14 days of cycling and my other muscles whilst stiff and sore have continued to do their jobs without too much compaint.

3    The other critical parts of the cycling anatomy- backside, neck and shoulders and hands have all been without much difficulty and I can honestly say that my bum has never been sore in 1000 miles. In fact the first time it was sore was in the car on the way home by about Carrbridge where we had to stop.

4    I encountered a swarm of midges in Ballachulish after a night of rain for five minutes as I set off for Inverness and that was my only encounter with the pesky insects in six days in Scotland (mostly on the West)

5   Despite an early visit from the puncture fairy in the shape of a "pinch puncture" caused by speeding over a cattle grid in Dartmoor (a mistake which I was careful never to repeat) my bike stood up to the often boneshaking surfaces incredibly well, and at the end was riding as well as it was at the beginning. I am sure that in Devon and Cornwall I must have worn my brakes and rims many mm thinner but they were still stopping efficiently in Caithness at the end.

The most important factor in my succesful completion of my challenge has been the incredible support I have enjoyed from a vast array of friends and family but particularly from Pauline who has steadfastly remained positive and supportive and has taken away any need for me to worry about ANYTHING. She has fielded phone calls and texts and WhatsApps and passed on all of the good wishes whilst satisfying the seemingly endless appetite for news of my progress. She has been nothing short of brilliant. Thank you Pauline. The icing on the otherwise tasty cake was secretly coordinating the welcome home party which had been organised by Mo - thank you Mo - hugs to follow.

Finally,  to everyone who has donated to Samaritans and supported Pauline and me during this life affirming challenge THANK YOU  THANK YOU THANK YOU

Inverness to Crask Inn

 June 22nd

Day 13. After last evening's trauma I slept remarkably well, waking up refreshed and ready to go. Breakfast wasn't on offer in my decidedly second class establishment but what can you expect in the capital of the highlands for £40? First stop McColls to stock up on energy bars and bananas and a sandwich for breakfast. I feel like I have lived on bananas but I prefer real food to gels and scientific potions. 

Mr masochistic guide had me on lanes and up hills again today so he was consigned to the bar bag and I set off up a busy dual carriageway to meet the A9 and cross the Kessock Bridge over the Beauly Firth. There was a good wind blowing from the SW so I decided to stay on the A9 all the way to Tain. Pauline was travelling up today to stay in a B&B in Allness so I stopped in on the way past to give her detailed directions and to check it out. It was for sale - maybe not a good sign but it was only one night. 

On the way to the Kessock Bridge I remembered Louises text to tell me that the left side of the bridge was closed to cycles and that I needed to cross over to the right. On the way I was able to guide a Belgian end to ender who was camping and had four panniers and a tent. I was bowling along and making good time until I reached the bridge over the Cromarty Firth just after Culbokie. The wind was very strong from the side and I kept being pushed into the path of the busy morning traffic.

At Evanton my masochistic guide wanted to go up and over The Struie but I decided that following the Cromarty Firth and then the Dornoch Firth whilst it would be longer would be quicker and easier in the end. The jury is out because the dornoch firth veered between W and even SW in places which was effectively back into the wind. Along the Dornoch firth after the Dornoch Bridge I came across James and Jenny who were in the beginning stage of their Jogle on a tandem with a trailer attached. They were raising money for Spinal Injuries research. Their trip had been postponed for two years due to covid. They were celebrating their 50th birthdays and silver wedding anniversary (belatedly) Although they were battling the wind they were cheerful as they snacked on peanutbutter sandwiches.

After I left the Bonar Bridge came up quickly then I set my sights on Lairg and finally Crask Inn. As I took a breather in a parking just ouside Lairg I was joined by the support vehicle for a company which organised end to end fully supported cycling holidays. I had been passed by six guys on road bikes each of whom shouted Hi and waved, but I assumed they were a local group out for a cycle. They were going to Altnahara, about 8 miles further than me. I got chatting to the guide who asked me if I needed anything which was nice. He seemed impressed that I had made it this far completely unsupported in the same timescale as his pampered charges. 13 more miles up a single track road surrounded by bleak but glorious scenery and I arrived at the quirky Crask Inn. Warmly welcomed by Douglas my trusty steed stowed forf the night in his lock up shed keepin afellow end to ender's steed company for the night. Joachim is a German fom Frankfur who works "in finance" and had taken a 41/2 week sabbatical to cycle from End to End. He had taken four weeks so far but his plan was to smeel the roses and see as much of GB and particularly Scotland as he possibly could.

The Crask Inn does dinner bed and breakfast. There is nowhere within 15 miles south and nearer 25 miles North. Dinnere was at 7.00 sharp and was excellent. A pint of the local (Sutherland) ale helped it down enormously. Conversation flowed and it was very civilised. The Crask Inn is a little bit of heaven in the middle of nowhere. Surprisingly I have a good 4G mobile signal and the Inn wifi is excellent.

Tomorrow it is 81 miles to John O'Groats. Another SW wind would be a great help. I have told Pauline not to expect me before 6 but harbour secret pretensions to arrive well before that.  Nearly there but there is much that can go wrong in 81 miles so fingers crossed. I am trying hard to "stay in the present" but it is hard not to start to imaging the feeling of satisfaction for a difficult challenge completed. After the tearful reunion and 5000 pictures we are off to Thurso to spend the night in a new Premier Inn there before descending on Friday.

Glencoe to Inverness

June 21st 

Day 12 began with the now well established rythm. Up at 7.00 shave, shower, cream up (it was overcast but I have been caught out before) panniers repacked, wallet in left pcket phone in right pocket go for breakfast at 08.00 (first available) The guide to the hills of GB remained unopened in my bar bag, today the plan was to stay on the A82, which I had followed all day yesterday, all the way to Inverness - a distance of around 80 miles.

My trusty steed emerged from its locked overnight lockup into a cloud of midges. It had rained overnight and there was no wind to speak off so no surprise there. What was surprising was that that was the last of the little devils. 

The way points came and went in good time, Corran Ferry, Fort William, Ben Nevis ( I saw the bottom 50 metres the rest was enveloped in Scotch Mist) Spean Bridge ( where I stopped to resupply with bananas and water) Then it was a good run up the length of Loch Lochy to Laggan Locks then  Invergarry gave way to Fort Augustus which I reached at lunchtime and it was heaving with tourists speaking a wide variety of languages. 

It was here that I spied David, a fellow end to ender who was following my route in reverse from John O'Groats to Land's End ( or jogle) He was panning on completing it in 13 days. We compared hills and winds and other common problems and concluded that it was to be enjoyed whatever the journey threw at you. We took photos and he took a copy of this blog address so Goodevening David I hope the rest of your day went well.

It was at this point that I looked at my phone to see that Louise (my niece who works in inverness) had suggested meeting up after she finished work at 5.00 for a drink. I looked at the time - 2.00 and the distance left to go 35 miles and thought that it might just be possible. However my legs already had about 50 miles in them and I always slow down towards the finishing line. I pushed a bit hard too early and when the ground turned upwards I had little left
to give. I was following the road alongside Loch Ness (which doesn't have any hills apart from Nessie's back) so it was hard to understand where the ups kept coming from. The strava trace confirms that I climbed nearly 1000 metres on a basically flat road.

I did eventually meet Louise in the Inverness Cathedral car park which is right beside the river. We went to have a bite to eat in the restaurant of the Eden Court Theatre which handily was next door. I don't think I could have walked too much further. We had a lovely time. It was really nice to see Louise again. She told me she had been following my blog so bang went all of my stories. She is meeting up with Pauline tomorrow evening as well.

#

I cycled the mile or so to Wimborne House my B&B accommodation for the night. My steed was stowed in the garage and I had showered and was about to go to get in provisions for tomorrow when ........... I couldn't find my wallet. I looked in the obvious paces and the in the less obvious places the in the just plain daft places but still it eluded me. I repeated the above before concluding that I must have lost it between the Eden court and the B&B which was difficult to believe. After a further increasingly frantic search I cancelled the cards and phoned Pauline who was far from sympathetic.

 "Get back on you bike and go and find it," she told me. So I did all the way back to the theatre where I spoke to the girl who had served me earlier. My wallet had not been found but she would take my number just in case. As I cycled all of the way back ( up hill naturally) I still couldn't work out how I could have lost my f***ing wallet.

When I got back to my room perhaps a bit calmer I found the offending object under a cushion ( which I had moved) on the bed. Much ado about nothing. I feel a complete fool but a lesser fool than one who has actually lost his wallet.

Tomorrow it is another 80 miler to Crask Inn where I am booked in for dinner bed and breakfast. Let's hope I get there in time for dinner.

Balloch to Glencoe

June 20th 

My guidebook described today's 74 miles to Glencoe as "moderate/hard" . Fortunately I left the guide in my panniers and took to the A82 mixing it with the lorries and holiday traffic. Admittedly it was very busy as far as Luss and then quite busy to Tarbet after which half the traffic turned off towards the Rest and be Thankful. Then after Crianlarich the traffic thinned again and it wasn't too busy down into Glencoe.

Loch Lomond

The day had begun on a very positive note. As I was testing the boundaries of The Premier Inn all you can eat breakfast, the ladies at the next table commented on my cycling attire and wondered where I was going today. After a bit of chat I told them that I was engaged in an End to End to raise money for the Samaritans. Elizabeth ( I know her name now that she has donated) asked if I had a web site so I gave her the blog address. In the meantime, Stephen, who was in Scotland from Durham to train heating engineers in Clydebank asked for the address as well and before I had finished getting my coffee he had donated on his phone. What a great start to the day. I floated up the start of the A82 on a cloud of good wishes.

Busy A82

Yes it was busy but I didn't ever feel threatened and most vehicles continued to give me the requisite metre and a half or more. The one scary moment came later in the day when a thundering lorry ran me off the road. After Balloch which I bypassed and Luss which I should have bypassed (because the centre of the village was full of film crews) the first target of the day was Crianlarich, at 34 miles from Dumbarton, a good morning's ride. However I had a fairly flat road most of which was well surfaced so I made good time and by midday I was having coffee and a brownie in a quaint tearoom which was on the platform of Crianlarich

Crianlarich Station Tea Room

station. I stocked up with energy bars and bananas at Crianlarich store which was to be the last before Glencoe ( if you discount the horribly tacky offerings at Tyndrum 5 miles up the road) Up was correct and just after Tyndrum severely up eventually topping out at in excess of 300m which may explain my need to put on my jacket despite it being sunny.

The afternoon was going well, the traffic had thinned to just the occasional convoy of vehicles held up by a caravan or a slow lorry, when, as I started to climb again after a long exhilirating descent into Bridge of Orchy, a lorry pulled out to pass another lorry both hurtling downhill towards me and no room left for me. I quickly decided that the lorry had no chance of changing its course so I had no option but to leave the road and take my chances on the scrubland verge. When I eventually came to a halt without falling off I was s h a k  i n g. This was my first, and I sincerely hope only near thing. I have shaken my fist once or twice at vehicles which have been a bit close but they have been mainly camping cars that have come within half a metre or a motorbike which passed a similar distance away when the whole of the road was clear.

As I cleared the last climb with about twelve miles to go I was really looking forward to the long descent onto Glencoe village. Unfortunately the road bent around to the West at the same time as the wind got up and veered to blowing from the West NOT a good combination. The last twelve miles was a struggle against a VERY stong wind. No coasting. I had to pedal the whole way. Yes it was downhill but it was still hard going. Nevertheless it was a good day with mostly good weather until the last two hours and I arrived feeling reasonably fine instead of shattered like yesterday.

Glorious scenery all day

I am comfortably installed in the Strathassynt Guest House in Ballachulish which is handily placed for the Coop and the Chip Shop. What's not to like. Tomorrow I am once again ignoring my masochistic guide. I plan to follow the A82 all the way to Inverness which my guide informs me is a hard 83 miles. I had better get to bed in preparation

Moffat to Balloch

 June 19th

The Balmoral Hotel in Moffat was a lovely stopover, right in the centre of Moffat, really good value for money and a good breakfast to send me on my way. Unfortunately that was the end of the positives today for quite some time. However the day begun more auspisciously when Simon sent a message to wish me a happy Father's Day a fact which had escaped me in my self absorbment. We had a long chat which was nice.

My masochistic guide, Nick Mitchell,  reckoned ,"The first three hours cycling involves a steady ascent from Moffat towards Glasgow, which can be strenuous, particularly in bad weather" It was and it was bad weather namely a horrible steady headwind which had me down to 9kph at times. Having left at just before 08.30 it took me until after 11.30 to cover the first twenty miles to Abington where I stocked up with energy bars and water.

You couldn't make this up. Just as I climbed out of Abington to the roundabout which is junction 13 on the M74 to take the B7078  the only road North on which a bicycle is allowed, I noticed a sign which informed me that the said B7078 was CLOSED and that I should follow the diversion. When I looked at where the diversion went, I decided to chance my arm. I would climb over, carry my bike around, cycle on the cycle track around whatever the blockage there was because THERE WAS NO VIABLE ALTERNATIVE. As it turned out a part of the road was being resurfaced and being Sunday no one was working so the road was completely clear as was the cycle track NCN 74 upon which I was travelling. Panic over I still struggled to pick up any pace against a fierce headwind.

Eventually I passed Happendon Services and through Coalburn and Lesmahagow when a voice from behind said "Hi" in a very strong American accent. It proved to be the voice of Jason a fellow end to ender who had a well laden steed for he was camping.

Jason was a lovely, lively 21 year old from Washington D.C. who had just finished College and was about to enter the world of work as an environmental consultant in the field of clean air research. We got on famously and rode together for about an hour before it became apparent that while we were well matched on the flat Jason was considerably better than me at ascending ( despite the greater weight he was carrying in his panniers) Well he was 21! I didn't want to hold him back so I urged him to go on. Jason I hope you found the Clyde Cycle Way and I wish you nothing but the best for the rest of your trip. 

After I left Jason at Larkhall I pushed on as hard as I could to reach the start of the Clyde Walkway or Cycleway 75 which went all the way into the centre of Glasgow never further than a few metres from the River Clyde eventually passing through Glasgow Green, the city centre and the out towards the Kingston bridge and towards Loch Lomond. Fantastic. The sun came out the wind didn't abate but it was flat and I made reasonable time in the second half of the day to arrive at the Dumbarton North Premier Inn which is about two miles from Balloch.

It has been a tough day, almost 80 miles but I am still on the road to John O'Groats which is getting shorter by the day. 

The final few miles were very scenic following as they did the Forth and Clyde Canal which was very picturesque with picture postcard harbour at Bowling and swans with their cygnets meandering on the water at several points along the way.

Keswick to Moffat

June 18th

No way!

Pehaps it was that I didn't sleep well ( the bed was comfy and I was exhausted) or that I was looking forward to the major milestone that reaching the Scottish border represented, before I had even left Keswick, but I began the day not in my ususual good spirits. 

Simon my host had brought me breakfast in my room on the stroke of 8.00 as promised. The Brooklands Guest House was excellent in every way - best yet - highly recommended. Awake at 6.00 I spent my time searching for an alternative to Mr Masochistic's "The stage commences with a hard uncompromising stretch of cycling Along the flank of Skiddaw at Bassenthwaite Common before reaching higher ground at Faulds Brow"  I decided to just follow the A591 to Carlisle which I had followed all the way from Kendal yesterday. It proved to be a good choice. Reasonably flat and fast and only a mile or two further. On the run in to Carlyle I passed a road sign which amused me. 

Forrester Fold. 

No way.

Carlyle Castle

Other cyclists were noticable by their absence today. Carlyle came and went before lunch time and but for a pesky headwind so would have the Scottish border. The wind from the West veering towards the North West became more of a factor as the afternoon wore on and by the middle of the afternoon was a serious pain in the backside. The road was wide and empty and had a stong gusty wind AGAINST. My mind went back to Forrester Fold but it would take a hurricane against and  even then I would wait for it to abate. The border was a bit anti-climactic because there was not a soul to be seen (save myself) so I was forced to take a selfie ( not my finest hour) to record the moment.

A mile further on is Gretna Green and its eponymous blacksmith ( which to be honest has become very commercialised) at which a wedding was taking place. It didn't look like a runaway wedding (there were too many well dressed guests) but a wedding at Gretna Green nevertheless. 

The afternoon consisted of ticking off the villages on the B7076 after Gretna. Kirkpatrick Fleming, Echelfechan, Lockerbie, Johnstone Bridge, Beatock and finally Moffat where I am comfortable installed in the very centre of town in the Balmoral Hotel which is very good value for money at £50 B&B or £65 for my chicken curry and a pint of Guiness. Well it is Saturday night so I would let my hair down (if I had any.)

I didn't meet a soul all day. I spoke to no one. But I did see something quite remarkable about 10 miles from Moffat. On a flat stretch of the mostly empty B7076 I saw a racing wheelchair

Gretna Green Wedding

whizzing along the road followed by a support vehicle with its flashers flashing. I was stopped for a drink of water (code for knackered and in need of a rest). The pilot turned around and set off back in the direction from which he came. When I set off behind him I was travelling in excess of 20 kph and I didn't get near to him. After about a mile he turned around again and set off to repeat his previous route. I was gobsmacked. I hope he achieves whatever he was training for.

Tomorrow is a long leg - nearly 85 miles so please no adverse weather. 

Empty road

 

Slaidburn to Keswick

 June 17th

car boot sale required

Today was never going to be easy. I endured a horrible climb into Slaidburn last evening and today was to start with a huge climb out of Slaidburn. The Hark to Bounty was very frayed around the edges but for £64.74 dinner, bed and breakfast with a couple of pints of Theakston it was certainly good value for money. 

My glycogen stores topped up as well as both my water bottles I set off up the Skaithe which ascends for 3 miles before topping off at 250m. Unfortunately it kept on climbing eventually reaching 427m at Cross of Greet. The views were astounding but a haze prevented me getting any very good photos.

Oh no! (polite version)

Shortly after Slaidburn before the real climbing started I was passed by a local cyclist from Settle, James Forrest. Unlike yesterday, when several road cyclists passed me by without a sideways glance or a hello, James slowed (quite a bit) asnd we chatted about the terrain and lejog. Eventually I had to shoo him on his way before he fell off his bike going at my speed up the hill(s). James I hope you had a brilliant ride. It was a beautiful sunny morning and the landscape was magnificent (but UP) It did eventually turn to DOWN but by then my legs were gone and they never returned throughout the day. 

Fed up of hills maybe I should try this!

My masochistic guide, Nick Mitchell, suggested lunch at Burton in Kendal which is at mile 27 which speaks volumes about the early topography. Between Burton in Kendal and Kendal I came across a catering caravan in a lay by which reminded me of Sal on the A68 from another trip. I stopped for a coffee. At £1 Anne and Jane were not part of a get rich quick scheme. However they were friendly and welcoming and when they asked if I was going far and heard the answer, they  offered me a donation for Samaritans. What lovely ladies and what a lovely gesture it made my day!

Anne and Jane

The rest of the day was a slog to get to Keswick before bed time. From Kendal there were 30 miles left to go on the A591, which was exceptionally busy with Friday week end holiday traffic. As I approached Windermere the clouds were gathering and drizzle turned into steady rain by the time I reached Ambleside. Both Windermere and Ambleside were heaving with tourists sporting anoraks and umbrellas and pretending that the weather didn't matter by continuing to eat outside. 

I was coping until I reached the Dunmail Raise with 11 miles to go to Keswick. A horrible 2 mile drag to an altitude of 250m with trucks and cars and lorries and vans thundering past. At the top, it went up again, I do hate false summits. But what goes up.....

By now the rain was coming down steadily and all of my equipment was given a good try out against the wet. It seems to have passed. My inside top was dry. The contents of my panniers and bar bag were dry and my GPS kept on functioning. My legs are shot but my spirits are high. 

As I came down the 14% hill into Keswick my mobile rang. I was my landlord for the night, Simon, who wondered where I was and if I was alright. I was able to tell him that I was 400m from his house and to expect me imminently. He was waiting by the fornt door and extended a warm welcome. The Brookfield guest house ( 5 rooms) is a well run establishment - the best so far. Everything is well organised and the provision is extensive. He and his wife deserve to do well.

Windermere

I have just returned from Keswick town centre where I have enjoyed one of, if not the best Indian meal ever at the Sultan Indian restaurant on John St. The lamb tikka was delivered to my table still sizzling away and the flavours were oooooohhh. The walk back up the hill wasn't great for the hamstrings but they survived to cycle another day.

Runcorn to Slaidburn

 June 16th

first glimpse of countryside

For once I got away at the time I intended.

Having spent last night in the Premier Inn in Runcorn I was well placed to start today's route along the busy A56 to Warrington. I managed to avoid a cooked breakfast and felt the better for it all morning. The morning route was through Warrington, Leigh, Bolton and the onward to Blackburn. They are virtually all joined in one giant conurbation which is very reminiscent of Coronation Street. Street after street of red brick terraces. Until Bolton it was predominantly flat but then it began to go up and continued up and down and up all the way to Slaidburn. 

Early in the day I had a recurrence of a technical issue. Because of the weight of the bar bag on the handlebars and the fact that I ride almost exclusively on the hoods, the hoods gradually slide down and forward and the droops back and up to the point that I can scarcely reach the brakes. Fortunately I had just the right allen key and it was the work of a few moments to return to normality. What a difference.

Kim, Jan and John

The route was varied and I quite enjoyed the contrast with the previous few days in the countryside full of agricultural smells. Today was more diesel than cow piss. The afternoon cycle through the forest of Bowland was quite spectacular except that I knew in advance that it would end with a big UP.

Just after Bob's Smithy Inn, which was just above Bolton, I came across three cycling amigos sitting on a bench by the side of the road. I stopped for a rest and to say hello. It turned out the they were Kim, Jan and John three cycling friends who were very welcoming and appeared interested in my journey.  They said I would remember their names because of the North Korean leader. I think it was Jan who was particularly keen to hear about my route because she had a desire to complete a lejog herself. The link to the GPS route is here:

https://www.google.com/maps/d/edit?mid=1TSz73zsDWMqYJXR3KEDUrTjXQnKXnxob&usp=sharing

https://www.google.com/maps/d/edit?mid=17RwLY961sN2wSdD33kkV5ayZRt-ohsEN&usp=sharing

We had a fine chat and then I  could feel the clock ticking and bade them farewell but not before we had taken some photos.

Kim, Brian and John

It took me nearly an hour to cross Blackburn but near the centre as I climbed a steep hill ( another steep hill) I spied a little bike shop which turned out to be a communithy not for profit bike shop.

 I purchased another spare tube and was given access to a track pump to get my tyres back up to 5 bar. The manager insisted on finding some dust caps for my bare valves and sent me off with good wishes. Although he couldn't understand why anyone would choose a route through Blackburn.

Blackburn Cathedral

I am staying tonight in the heart of Slaidburn in the Hark to Bounty Inn.

The Story Behind The Name....

The inn is reputed to date back to the 1300s, although most of the existing fabric of the building dates from the 16th century. The inn was known as The Dog until 1875, when the squire of the village, who was also the Rector, had a pack of hounds. One day whilst out hunting, he and his party called at the inn for refreshments. Their drinking was disturbed by a loud and prolonged baying from the pack outside. High above the noise of the other hounds could be heard the squire's favourite dog, which prompted him to call out ....

Hark to Bounty Inn

"Hark to Bounty!"

Upstairs in "The Bounty" is the Courtroom which was used as the local court from the early 19th century until the mid 1930s. This was originally the Manorial or "Moot" Court which dealt with local matters such as land transfers, disputes over land rights etc., in addition to the punishment of local miscreants.

Tonight is the end of day 7. In theory I am half way through my challenge so I thought I would reflect on the first week. It has certainly been hard and without the winter running training with Recreational Running I don't think I would have made it. My equipment is still in good order after the visit of the puncture fairy. I am almost scared to say this (but I am not supersticious) but I have had no twinges from my injured right hamstring. I have had the odd twinge from the left hamstring and yesterday a sore left calf for the last twenty or so miles, but all in all I am in good physical shape. I am not burned despite daily sunshine. I have been incredibly lucky with the weather - no rain and little wind. I am in good spirits and looking forward to meeting Pauline in 7 days time in John O' Groats.

Thanks to everyone who is supporting me directly or with messages passed through Pauline. I do apreciate your support. It really does help.

Clun to Runcorn

 June 15th

Clun is a tinyplace half the size of Freuchie but it had three pubs and two cafes and The White Horse Inn was the largest and most lively. There were 14 bikes parked in the garage (including my trusty, now, steed) there was a group of eight guys of about my age, but fat and unfit, who went off twice a year for a cycle tour ( and a food and drink extravaganza) I couldn't believe it when they ordered starters and mains and then puddings and when I went to bed they were set fair for the night with an array of wine and beer. Apparently the very accommodating landlord had eventually sent them off to bed telling them that he had to be up to serve breakfast.

I met them again at breakfast. Of the eight, four were going to be in the "support vehicle" for the day while the other four would cycle 20 miles or so. They were very interested in my venture and wished me well without adding to my total! They did keep me amused at breakfast with tales of past trips. "How would you like your steak sir, medium?" No I would prefer it to be large! boom, boom!

Shrewsbury

I eventually set off at 9.00 having been up and ready to roll at 07.30. The first two hours were difficult and up, climbing to 320m above sea level before descending through the Hope Valley Nature reserve. The remaining 70 miles were predominantly flat but needed constant navigation for the major routes were heading East to West and I was routed on country lanes heading North. The lanes were quiet and I didn't meet a soul until around 2pm when I arrived at the village of Hanmer and met Des a local worthy who was out on his electric bike for a little 15 mile circuit. 

Des

He was astounded when I told him where I had come from and my ultimate destination. He offered me cash for the Samaritans but I encouraged him to donate online. We chatted for at least 15 minutes. He kept asking questions and saying how fantastic my trip was. Quite a pick me up on a long day. At the time I wasn't sure if I was in Wales or England so I was treading carefully but Des was over the moon that England had lost 4-0 last evening and told me that he was a native Welsh speaker. End of doubt.

I had started the day in Wales then crossed into England, Shropshire, then back into Wales Wrexham county and finally back into England Cheshire. There were no signs. No "You are now entering Wales" but you could tell because the painted signs on the road in England said "SLOW" and in Wales "ARAF" and "SLOW"

The end of the day was the worst because I was riding along the busy A56. The wind which had not been noticeable all day picked up in my face and it started to blow through rain. It had become a race to get to the Premier Inn in Runcorn before the rain. I won. The Premier Inn in runcorn is huge. They have built a complete new three storey wing ( which is where I am comfortably installed for the night.) The motorway is very close but the triple glazing is doing its job and I look forward to a sound sleep ( or I may take them up on their sleep guarantee)

Church at Bellesfield

Although today was the longest leg so far, it had the least climbing and was therefor probably the easiest stage so far. I am tired tonight but not exhausted. My legs have got 640 kms in them and hopefully close to another 1000 kms left to come.

Monmouth to Clun

June 14th 

This was to be the shortest section of the whole trip described as easy/ moderate. Well I didn't find it easy or moderate. It was very lumpy and started with a steep climb and ended with a vertical climb. 

River Wye Hereford

Up at 7.00 breakfast at 7.30. on the road for 8.30 all was fine until I got to the centre of monmouth and no signs to Hereford. after a few false starts I foud the "footbridge linking classrooms of the Haberdashers' Monmouth School for girls" and followed the instruction to continue to ascend for 4 1/2 miles to the radio mast at Llancloudy. So much for the easy day.It did get better and half way to Hereford I came across a lady cyclist of indeterminate years who was making decent progress. When I caught up with her I asked her where she was going and it turned out she was going to Hereford (on my route) We got chatting and when we stopped because my chain had come off for the second time of the morning and the fourth or fifth altogether, we played a game of "guess where my accent is from" She thought I was Irish and I thought I heard a hint of German. I was right. Pass Go collect £200. When we hit the A49 a fast dual carriageway into Hereford where I was able to go faster on the downhill sections because of my droop handlebars so I didn't see her in Hereford.

Riverside Inn Aymestry

The navigation around Hereford was reasonably straightforward but thereafter it was a fairly lumpy up followed by level followed by up and so on. Nothing too terrible just NOT FLAT. The traffic was fairly busy but gave me generous space. 

I met no cyclists or anyone else for that matter  until later in the afternoon. In Wigmore two volunteers were teaching the p7 children how to ride their bikes on the road. One of the instructors asked me about my trip and shook my hand. He asked me if he could ask how old I was. I guess because I was making such slow progress up the hill into town.

Cycle Safety

Another solitary encounter was when I stopped to photograph an incredible yew hedge in Brampton Bryan. A blind lady was passing me guided by an alsatian labrador cross. I asked her about her dog and we got chatting. Brampton Bryan was a picture postcard village unlike most of the places that I passed through today.  Little of interest and few photos.

Incredible ancient yew hedge

The White Horse Inn in Clun is very lively and they brew their own beer in the back garden. Today was the least interesting day so far but I am here in one piece. My confidence was boosted by a cycling couple from York who are staying in the hotel tonight. the husband had done and end to end last year supported by a company which transported luggage etc. We got chatting and when I saud how old I was she exclaimed "NO WAY!" I like this Yorkshire lady.

View from the top of THE hill

For those that like to follow the route log in to Strava and follow me to see the detailed route.