Day Eight

28.03.2008 - Kingussie - Brora

Route:

After the epic squadron night fly into Kingussie the troops are divided on the final destination for today. I wanted to go until Helmsdale, about 108 miles while Ben was happy going to Brora, about 97 miles so Angus suggested we decide at lunchtime.

We had the second cleanup of the trip, giving the chains a good de-greasing and some GT-60 all around the moving parts. Then, as the rain stopped, lucky us, we set off.

After the ascent in the dark last night we more or less figured there would be a lot of snow on the ground and indeed there was.

We had a tea stop in the Scottish sky resort of Aviemore which according to Sue's son - from the Osprey Hotel where we stayed in Kingussie - is having the best season in the last five years. Angus said it was dangerous to stop but still we all had a cuppa. It was interesting to feel that resort vibe in Scotland, with the obvious snowboarders walking around town. Cafe Bleu had live slope webcams and the town was full of security, because of the Labour Party Conference - Gordon Brown was supposed to come in the afternoon, to state that the SNP was a threat to Scottish prosperity.

After Aviemore we did a fair amount of climbing and at this point noticed various signs to cycling routes. They added some mileage but lots of scenery. We managed to lay down some fresh tracks on up to two inches of snow. Now that was really unexpected.



On the downside Henry picked up two more punctures, taking his total tally to five. The rubber does not deal with snow very well which made me wonder at what temperature are tires designed to function. Continental are you listening? We now have a new cycling in the snow sport and need advanced designs haha.

Just before Inverness we came upon the ancient Clava Cairns, supposed to be between 3 and 5 thousand years old. And they had stone circles around them, sun worshippers that the people of the land were.

Then we wondered, when would we see the sea? We expected it to appear after every bump and it indeed appeared.
So did Inverness, where we stopped for lunch in a cafe by the bus station.
It was a popular hangout. Good food at good prices. The building dated probably from the 50's or 60's.
It was a quarter circle shape with a high ceiling and large windows. On the mezzanine balcony were on display
4 very stylish Italian motorbikes. Angus, who also rides motorbikes pointed out the funky exhausts.
Altogether the arrangement looked bizarre and not quite compatible with the clientele and Angus concluded that people like to show off their riches.
After a big lunch we worked out the remaining mileage and that we would not manage our original target - Helmsdale - at a reasonable time, so settle for Brora.

Now Brora merits some background info. When Henry and I plotted the stages for the first time we had no means of measuring accurately the mileage for each stage so we used a piece of dental floss that on the map scaled to 100 miles. Unlike other stages, the eight dental floss measurement did end on Brora.

We left Inverness and stopped for a photo shoot next to a sign that read John O'Groats 120 miles.
Now, with the Grampian mountains behind us it seemed like we would make it for sure.

Across the suspension bridge we went and followed the cycle lane number 1 along some beautiful country until
we decided that it was sending us the long way around, when we rejoined the A9 over the next bridge
and carried on B roads and country lanes. By then the landscape's overwhelming beauty put me off taking anymore
photos. We went by and over so many stone bridges that I gave up for the day. No, I lie, I did do some night
shots for documentation's sake.

By the time night fell we got off the country lanes and once again landed on the A9 in the town of Tain where
it started to feel like deep Scotland. In the coop we had our early evening feed. We looked a little bit
like astronauts walking between the shelves and a scottish toddler came up to my thigh and pulled my tights
to figure out what material they were made of - while mildly admonished by the adult accompanying her.

After a couple of hours riding in the dark with some stunning night time views of the coast line, with city lights and lighthouses, we arrived at the Sutherland Inn - Brora. And were "fed and watered" grandly. With 12 oz sirloin steaks and whiskey.

The effort is starting to show. The after ride high is lasting less and less.

Day Seven

27.03.2008 - Edinburgh - Kingussie

The Castle View Guest House in Edinburgh had just that. The sun was shinning but we could see the locals in the street wrapped up warm so we opted to stick to our layers.

It was a pig of a job navigating out of Edinburgh but we had some small bonuses, like cycling past Murrayfield stadium which Angus pointed out, being the rugby man he is.

Also, it was nice going over the Forth road bridge. There is something nice about bridges.

Our first criminal act of the day - we had been jumping "safe reds" for a while now - led by me (don't really want to drag the rest of them into the much) was to jump a road block only to discover that we were entering a tree felling area. No trees fell on our heads as the workers were on their lunch break - that's how long we took to leave Edinburgh! And we went on our merry way.

Now the shadow of the Grampian mountains lay heavily upon us. Unlike the Cumbrian mountains, which approached us quite quickly in comparison, the mighty Grampians took their time and loomed bigger and bigger.

At the cash point in Kinross, a woman after learning our plight advised me and Angus that "it will be cold up there". Our fish and chips in Perth I think it was were eaten in silence. We knew it would be a late one with lots of climbing on the busy A9. With the massive lorries to make us company.

Still, the after lunch route was very pleasant, on some B roads ending in Pitlochry I think it was, where we had our late afternoon tea break. Thereafter the Grampians hit us hard and we were climbing for a long time. Darkness fell and we were still climbing. When we got to the pass Henry took over with his powerful legs and headlights and pulled us all the way down at high speed. At one point disaster struck and his light went out but after some fidgeting it came to and off we went again. It was wonderful to see the road sign "Kingussie 16 m".

And soon enough we were there, taking the detour through Newtonmore, flying in like a squadron, two abreast, with a strong tailwind.

At the Osprey Hotel big Sue pulled our legs suggesting breakfast was at 4am but Henry pulled her leg right back saying 4.30am would do.

At the Duke of Gordon Hotel, opposite the Osprey we had dinner. The place was packed with OAPs and the portions were compatible with the clientele. We felt big voids in our bellies but the fireplace made up for it, as we sipped our whiskey and dried our feet.

Day Six

2006.06.2008 - Langholm - Edinburgh

Route:

I'll owe the readers this one, will post at a later date, basically all the way up the B709 till the A7 the into Edinburgh.

Had the most amazing day travelling up the B709. If you have a chance do not pass it by. This is cyclists paradise. Remote, long gentle ascents and descents through the heathers and monroes. It really bowled me over. The roads are all lines on the map and you never know what to expect to it was pretty breathless. And because remote, we had a long more time riding two and three abreast and chatting for long parts of the way. The weather became milder and Ben and I stripped off a couple of layers before starting out.

Well there were Angus and I riding side by side, he spoke about his rugby years when suddenly a bhuddist temple appeared! It was very bizarre, and quiet as expected. We had a quick nose and walk around the ribboned tree to make a wish.

The air was still most of the day. In the afternoon is turned southerly so we bombed it down to Edinburgh and really ate up the miles. It is great approching Edinburgh on the A7, going past Arthur's Seat and heading into the Old Town. We cycled up the cobbles to Edinburgh Castle for a photo shoot and I really gave it some welly, to remind myself of the Tour of Flanders and and the shock my fellow cyclists from Dulwich Paragon Cycling Club will be absorbing next weekend. There is a big committee travelling to Belgium to attend.

As we were happily snapping away by the Castle, Ben managed to hook up with a friend that put us up for free! What a bonus, we saved a bundle between us. Had some Haggis. Hooked up with my cousin Katie - studying in St Andrews and had a mini family reunion - 4 family members including my Aunt Susie. Then dropped off cuz and headed to Henry's place of birth on 13 Warriston Crescent. Many snaps were taken in the rain, as Hen proudly posed by the front door.

Today we are off to Kinhussie and it's deep breath time, it should be amazing x 3 at least! Two mountain passes, etc.
And that's the message from the troops today, have a nice day at work everyone and don't forget to check out the blog tomorrow, although not sure I'll be able to update today.

Day Five

25.03.2008 - Lancaster - Langholm

Potential route:

http://www.bikely.com/maps/bike-path/LEJOG-2008-DAY-5

Finally caught up with the blog. Was feeling pretty gone on the first two days but that was what I expected from Cornwall and Devon. As we crossed the county borders the terrain got flatter and we seemed to have caught our breath and found our legs.

Anyway, I hope all readers had a good Easter break and keep tuned in for more adventures of Angus, Ben, Dan and Hen. The four moving shadows, at least when the sun is shining.

(...)

After a gigantic breakfast at the luxurious 4 star Lancaster House Hotel - courtesy of "the Imperturbable", Angus told many hilarious stories of his times
working as a roadie/sound and lighting engineer for a wedding band in Ireland. These memories rushed back to him as Abba or something in those lines was
pipped through the breakfast room. As the chorus played Angus mimicked himself at the mixing desk, lighting and smoke machine console, moving his protruding
thumb and index fingers, tapping the table in time with the music and saying "Yellow, yellow, green... Yellow, yellow, green..." then with the other hand he
released some imaginary smoke by pressing another imaginary button. Then remembered how the bass player reprimanded him when he got the colours wrong. "Not
blue! Green!" He shouted the bass player's telling off as we laughed.
Then he proceeded to describe the gypsy weddings - very lavish affairs - where some family feud always broke out, usually at the car park but sometimes in
the reception room.

He recalled a massive brawl. As soon as it started the band leader who was also the lead singer shouted retreat orders in angry desperation, which they did
in great haste, carrying all equipment off the stage while the fight consumed everything before it, like a furniture eating monster.

Then at his request Ben the Languid and I described our worst jobs ever but none could match Angus the Brave's tales, who went on to become a lawyer.
Coincidence? Haha.

We then had our first clean-up of the trip. The chains became so gritty we were having problems shifting gears so left Lancaster with squeaky clean moving
parts.

The approach to the Cumbrians was awesome. With the Pennines now for the third consecutive day still to our left, both mountain ranges covered and sometimes
caked in snow.

At one point we had a good view of the sea to our left and the Cumbrians sprawling from North to North West. And up there, somewhere, was Kirkstone Pass,
which would lead us through the mountains.

After crossing the M6 due northeast and again further up due northwest, the Cumbrians looming bigger and bigger, we joined the A694. The ominous sign read
something in the lines of "A694 360 casualties in 5 years, please drive carefully". It was a busy road and it lead us into the Lake District National Park.
On my first visit, a couple of years ago, at least, there was very low cloud. At the time I was looking forward to seeing Ireland from the top of Scafell
Pike but there was no more than 50 metres visibility on that occasion. Today was a different story, although there would be no Ireland to search for in the
horizon - we would not be going that high.

Angus picked up a slow puncture and those not engaged in replacing the inner tube procured some Kendal mint cake. I had every intention of bringing some back
to the office but it seemed like everything we got that was edible disappeared very quickly. And it did taste good. I assure all readers. Sweet and non-sweet
toothed alike.

Once in our saddles Angus began to recall the legend of Donald Campbell, an action man who broke many land and water speed records, some in the Lake
District. I found many interesting tales about this man, including the recovery of his body from the depths of Lake Coniston, decades after his boat
disintegrated at high speed, while he reached 300mph. The rescuer was inspired by a Marillion album singing Campbell's feats. He is now buried near the lake.

We got past Kendal and had a lovely gentle ascent - we would encounter many such the next day - then before Windermere found a handy shortcut in the town of
Ings heading north west.

As we headed up and got closer and more personal with the snow, a fighter jet flew by our right. Another flew by our left, just before Kirkstone Pass,
turning then right into the pass where it flew out of sight. To me it looked like it would have crashed into the mountain side but it described a gracious
albeit noisy curve and off it went to admire the beauties before us. Then a Spitfire followed. I don't recall ever being so closed to these powerful aircraft
in flight.

We made the pass with good legs and had a celebratory lunch in the cozy Kirkstone Pass Inn. And one of the patterns of our journey once again reared its face
when the waitress fumbled Henry and Ben's Spotted Dick desert and we were held for another 20 minutes or so. Not a bad desert it was.

We left snowboarders and kids with plastic sledges on the pass and proceeded with the help of geography and gravity to the valley floor. Ben was aiming for
the mythical 50mph. On the level I saw a brave girl cyclist starting off in the opposite direction. And what a brave woman she was going up the hard way. On
our route we had 1 chevron, indicating accentuated inclination. She had four chevrons to deal with. At least all avoided "The Struggle".

This turns out to be a very effective notation, the chevron (or "greater than" sign or arrow head) pointing the upwards direction, so the cyclist and
hiker may take stock. It does not make that much difference to the driver, unless the road is icy or very wet.

The night before in the sauna we were advised about the infamous double chevroned climb - "The Struggle". And a fellow guest took great offence when I called
the Cumbrians "bumps". He assured me that we would be climbing 400 metres to go over Kirkstone Pass so afterwards, before bedtime I revisited bikely.com and
plotted the route. It did turn out to present 1000m ascent in total, from end to end. We discussed it in the morning and unanimously chose to take it,
instead of the flatter option coasting around the east.

And we left the Cumbrians behind. Carlisle was now in the sign posts and we took a pleasant country lane into town, parallel and west of the M6.

In Carlisle we got directions to reach the A7. They included a skirt around a chimney that "we could not miss". Indeed it was gigantic. And I was surprised I
missed it on my first visit to town. Nearby was a McVities installation and the air carried the freshly baked biscuits. After our tea stop we made it to
Langholm without incident crossing the border into bonnie Scotland and doing the last 16 miles at the greatest average speed of the day, which is turning
into a habit. We call it Angus' Guinness legs.

We stayed at the Border House, where our host Dennis guided us to the pub to we could get "fed and watered". Not before playing at my request some music on his
acoustic guitar. He went for a ragtime. Truly awesome. I had never heard ragtime played on the guitar.

Langholm is a cracking town. Opposite the pub we had dinner the local brass band was rehearsing. A musical evening all around. The last sight of my waking
hours was Henry surrounded and wired by gadgetry - iPod, HTC handheld phone and vaio laptop, reading up on John O'Groats and discovering in Wikipedia that
"The town takes its name from Jan de Groot, a Dutchman who obtained a grant for the ferry from the Scottish mainland to Orkney, recently acquired from
Norway, from King James IV in 1496."

To which I add, also from Wikipedia "The local football team is John o' Groats F.C. who recently reached the semi finals of the Highland Amateur Cup but lost
out to Point F.C of the Western Isles."

Day Four

24.03.2008 - Shrewsbury - Lancaster

Route:

http://www.bikely.com/maps/bike-path/LEJOG-2008-DAY-4

Today is the day when I've gone over three days on the saddle in one stretch and I am worrying about saddle sores. Shrewsbury is a pretty town but as usual we only have a quick look and have to move on.

The weather was manic. Snow and sunshine and snow and sunshine. I saw patches of snow on the black mountains and asked the others what were the white patches, refusing my own verdict. They could not believe it was snow. As we rode on, to the left we could see snow on the Penines. It made me wonder what the Lake district and Scotland will be like.

We cycled through Wigan and it was so refreshing to see young children playing on their own - one young lad shouted "get thy knees up!" as we powered up the hill - in the small park by the road. One mimicked us chewing up the hill while further up one young girl wrestled another into the daffodil flower beds as their mates observed amused. I found it hilarious. We saw a couple of guys with paniers, I swear they were doing our reverse route.

Got to Lancaster ok. Legs getting stronger. Tomorrow many doubts about the route. Would like to do some of the lakes but that will involve 1000m climb, which on paper looks doable and less than one would climb on a Sunday ride in the Surrey Hills. We'll see.

Day Three

23.03.2008 - Bristol - Shrewsbury

Route:

http://www.bikely.com/maps/bike-path/LEJOG-2008-DAY-3

We got dropped off at Cribbs Causeway, at the exact point we were the previous night so no cheating there. The rain began to fall hard and Henry's dad busted us sheltering on a bus stop. It will take of lot of convincing we are not trying LEJOG on public transport. The problem is getting the hands wet right at the start of the day. The lads went for marigolds in the end and as soon as they put them on (inner layer) you guessed, the rain stopped. Oh, well...

Whoever built the Severn Bridge had the good sense of adding a cycle path. I suspect there may have been some Welsh involved because they also had the common sense of building hairpins on their roads and as we tackled one or two and began the first long descent of the day we went by the stunning Tintern Abbey and had a couple of happy hours riding the Wye Valley, sheltered from the howling winds. Then the route flatlined and we got to Shrewsbury pretty quick.

Once again, crazy insane spring weather. Hail, snow, bright sunshine. Snow on top of the Black Mountains.

Day Two

22.03.2008 - Okehampton - Bristol

Route:

http://www.bikely.com/maps/bike-path/LEJOG-2008-DAY-TWO

Left Okehampton in four layers wondering if it was a good idea. The morning was bright but freezing cold. After lots of climbing I was toasty and decided it was a good idea. It was also good to leave the A30, and pick up some country lanes between Copplestone and Tiverton plus some snow! - I was happy to be wearing my snowboarding mits.

Once the route flattened out we managed to get some good work going sharing turns at the front. Even the weather improved as we approached Bristol. I was surprised to recognise Cheddar Gorge from a distance. I had been down it at night once, on the Exmouth Exodus 2006 and did a few fly overs with Google Earth so we must have been old friends.

It was a great relief to see the beautiful Bristol city lights appear over the hill and we bombed it down all the way, even though there were still a few miles to the designated pick up point, Cribbs Causeway, a massive shopping complex.

We hooked up with the support vehicle, racked our bikes - 4 on a 3 bike rack, thanks to Ben's expertise - and drove off to Henry's parents. There we piled up on all the carbs we needed, no meagre portions to be seen. I ate till I could eat no more and still woke up at 4am with a concave stomach. Where did it all go?

Day One

21.03.2008 - Land's End - Okehampton

Route (See disclaimer on day zero post):

http://www.bikely.com/maps/bike-path/LEJOG-2008-DAY-ONE

Land's End was amazing. The sea was in extreme turmoil. I could have stayed there all morning watching the big waves rolling in and clashing against the rocks.

We take our photos talk to other departing cyclists and head off wobbling in the 35mph north westerly wind. Weather forecast does not look good.

3 other departing parties, a couple of guys with "Cancer Research" high visibility vests, supported by a van, another three of four in a group, supported by a van and a solo mountain-biking woman with two huge panniers. We saw her on the way from Penzance - 12 miles in brutal headwind. She must be tough as nails.

I talked to her briefly. She plans to do it in 14 days. Off we went in our group of four - me, Angus, Ben and Hen.

The standard first day route is pretty straight forward plus lots of ups and downs. We stopped at Bodmin for lunch and got lost, thanks to me, anyway, got back on track after adding some "junk miles" as the hilarious BikeSnobNY blog would have called them.

Late afternoon, over the hill came an expression of pain. It was Angus with plenty Cornwall ache in his thighs. The geography here is part of the folklore, as one may hear in the lyrics of "Camborne Hill".

Henry had three punctures. Ben one, in the middle of a hailstorm on the ghastly A30 - a dual carriageway for long stretches. One could die of exposure repairing a puncture in those conditions. We were all shivering and very happy to reach Okehampton in the dark where we stayed in the last remaining 5 beds in town which Henry found at lunchtime, after some ringing around. We headed late for the local Italian. Cycling long miles does bring out the taste in all foods but does makes portions look smaller than they really are - it peeved Angus the Brave no end! Me too.

Day Zero

20.03.2008 - London - Penzance

Made it to the start. Me, Ben and my mother by car. Henry and Angus by train. Copper stopped my mother on roundabout thinking she was drunk or on drugs. She explained she had never driven in this country before and was supporting us to John O'Groats. He lives a few miles away from Land's End and says in the warmer months sees a never ending stream of cyclists departing for John O'Groats including a man who attempted it on a toilet on wheels, breaking down a few miles in.

LEJOG is definitely a well beaten track. I'm plotting the route on bikely but the elevation profile is not what I expect.

Mileage data from the bike computer to follow so check posts again soon.

Finally, we are doing it for the charity "Riders for Health", thanks to Angus.