When my daughter was younger, every day out or holiday was ‘the best ever’. There was no direct comparison; it was simply that she took such pleasure out of these experiences that of course the most recent was the best.

And so to Day 12, the final leg of what has been an amazing experience and one that I’ve enjoyed a great deal more than I was expecting to. But first the small matter of the lack of a fairly critical part of the bike, namely the saddle.

WIth Sue flying to Inverness the next morning, I set about instructing my son in the business of removing seatposts from every bike which had a seatpost which may fit. I would then ride as far as I could without a saddle and meet Sue in the hire car somewhere along the route, fix the problem and finish the ride. Easy!

The shed where I had stored my bike at The Altnahara Hotel had, amongst other things, stacks of carpet off-cuts, which after a shocking nights sleep, I set about trying to fashion into a saddle.

The first attempt was a simple roll wrapped round the top tube but without gaffer tape, an improved version would have to wait until I found a shop. I rode the 22 miles to Bettyhill by either standing up or freewheeeling down the hills sat on my roll of carpet. Then, with heavy duty tape and a message from a friend about using a water bottle stuffed with clothes, I made version two.

This was a big improvement and I ploughed on clutching a business card for a bike shop given to me by the shopkeeper in Bettyhill. Pedal Power was in a tiny hamlet about 8 miles up the road. The owner wasn’t there but a builder working on his kitchen phoned him and he agreed to come home. After much scrabbling round in boxes of parts he found a seatpost, fitted it and I called Sue and informed her of the change of plan. “See you in John O’Groats.”

For so many reasons this was the best day. The sun shone. Mighty winds blew me in the right direction. The scenery, particularly heading North towards the sea, was my favourite so far. I would see Sue for the first time in 10 days. And I would complete my goal, on the bike I set out on and not one adorned with black tape and beige carpet.

The best day ever!

75 miles today and a grand total of 1050.

 

What a day! I’m going to keep this brief as it’s been a very long one and there’s plenty to do before the final day tomorrow.

It was all about the Garmin and my complete an total reliance on it. Today for some reason, it hadn’t downloaded the whole route, a fact I discovered 20 miles into the 84 when it told me I had almost reached the end point. Sue came to the rescue and gave me a list of all the places I would be going through and screenshots of the route. However, a combination of limited signage and my incompetence meant that it all went a bit wrong. I won’t go into details but it involved a long detour which I did’t mean to do and another one which I sort of did except that I didn’t realise it would be quite that long a detour. The upshot is that I have ridden well over a hundred miles (will take a while to work out how far) in the most stunning scenery so far. The final 10 miles into Altnahara was particularly special but just when I thought the day would end on a high note, a bolt on my seatpost sheared off and I rode the last 5 miles without a saddle. I’m off to eat and sort out a solution for the last day. You’ll have to wait until tomorrow to find out what that solution is. Meanwhile, here are some photos.

110 miles today. 975 in total.

At 98 miles, today was the longest stretch in the saddle and a bit of a mixed bag. The anticipation was all about the ‘A’ roads and what the detours off those roads would be like.

I left Oban and all but a couple of the first thirty or so miles were on cycleways which ran directly alomgside or a few yards away from the main road. Wide, smooth and mostly flat, with the wind behind me progress was swift. scotland is certainly getting something right as far as its cycling infrastructure is concerned and the signs on the NCN routes were the clearest I’ve seen. Some money has been spent here.

A short stop for lunch in Fort William and I continued on towards the section on the Caledonian Canal which had been a concern. I needn’t have worried. The surface was fantastic and they scenery everything I’d hoped for on this leg of the ride.

Unfortunately, the next attempt to avoid ‘A’ roads was not as successful and I should have abandoned and rerouted to something more suited to a road bike. It seemed to take forever to get back down the side of Loch Lochy and when I did rejoin the canal, the surface wasn’t as good. Back to the main then until a few miles on, the road crossed the canal and I noticed a return to its earlier quality so I sped on along it all the way to Fort Augustus.

I’d already made my mind up about the remainder of the ride. The next bit was a return to the Great Glen Way whose surface on the earlier section had been almost impassable so the A82 took me all the way to Drumnadrochit. It wasn’t terrible but exhausting, trying to keep up an acceptable speed and also keep concentration when I’d got used to breezing along admiring the scenery.

The evening meal was courtesy of the Londis in Fort Augustus and eaten by the shores of Loch Ness which were slightly less straight forward to reach than described by a member of staff at the Loch Ness Backpackers Lodge. When she said to cross the river, I assume there’d be a bridge but the local youths skimming stones on the river confirmed that wading across a shallow section was ‘the way’. As I sat on a log to eat, I could hear the strains of bagpipes coming from somewhere up on the hill, probably Urquart Castle. I’m not making this up, I promise.

98 miles today. 865 in total.

I always had high hopes for today and I wasn’t to be disappointed. I joined other cyclists in the queue for the 7:00am Ardrossan to Brodick ferry and we embarked on time on a calm sea for the 14 mile crossing. I spoke to a cyclist who was going the five ferries ride, a spectacular 75 miles (of cycling) loop which involved catching (you guessed it) five ferries.

The all too brief ride on Arran was stunning with a challenging climb in the middle and I reached Lochranza with time to spare before the ferry left. Back on the mainland the scenery didn’t disappoint and it was hard to maintain momentum with all the photo taking.

By now an expert at meddling with my carefully planned routes, I toyed with the idea of staying on the main road to Oban instead of taking the NCN ‘B’ road especially as it promised 11 miles less riding. But then I came to my senses and remembered what I was there for. The first detour was lovely but when I rejoined the main rode, doubts resurfaced, especially when I looked at the profile on the Garmin and saw how challenging the climbs were. My mind was made up as I approached the junction and was overtaken by five cars in quick succession.

I followed the sign which said ‘Oban 39 miles’ instead of ‘Oban 29 miles’ and for the first seven of those, grinned from ear to ear as the traffic ebbed away and I was left with silence and some of the best landscapes Scotland has to offer. Then the climbing started. And the descending. I have never seen a road that undulated so much. Every short sharp climb was followed by a quick descent and so it continued. For 32 miles with nearly a complete absence of any flat.

The scenery stayed stunning to the last and an hour before I descended into Oban, the sun promised at the start of the day finally materialised.

Tomorrow will be all about avoiding the tourist traffic and hopefully the Caledonian Canal will provide a smooth enough traffic free route.

106 miles today (87 miles riding). 767 in total.

 

 

Today was a day with few photo opportunites. The ride out of Dumfries was fine and a cycleway took me out into what pass for hills in these parts but the threat of rain was never very far away. All the days climbing was done and dusted by halfway and when the roads were smooth (which they werent always) the descents were fast without being hair raising. When the rain finally settled in, it was there to stay and stayed for most of the rest of the day. After a stop for lunch in Dalmellington with the hope that the skies would clear, I carried on along a mish mash of off road cycleways, A roads, B roads and country lanes, the nice scenery left behind with the hills.

Even when there was a picture worth taking, I chose to keep riding, prioritising reaching my destination.

The seafront cycle path in Ayr and Prestwick and Troon golf courses were highlights but only just with a railway line blocking views of the sea. To get to the most beautiful scenery in Scotland, there are bits you have to get past and this was the tale of the day; well, that and the weather.

My plan to eat takeaway on a bench over looking a pretty Cornwall style harbour went out of the window when I saw Ardrossan. The town is far from pretty and the harbour is a working port, warts and all.

 

 

 

With a ticket for tomorrow’s 7am crossing in my pocket, I sat down to a meal in what may be Ardrossan’s only decent restaurant. I’m currently watching driving rain lash down on the sloping windows and wondering why I’m out in Scotland in a t-shirt, jumper and a pair of shorts.

Better weather predicted for tomorrow though my immediate concern is for the next half an hour.

84 miles today. 680 in total.

The contrast between the starts of the last two days riding couldn’t have been more different. After leaving the rather tired and unloved County Hotel, in less than a mile I was out on quiet country lanes in the Cumbrian Hills. The eerie silence was broken when I inadvertently separated a couple of calves from their mother by herding them up the rode. I could still hear the mooing or lowing or whatever distressed sound they made long after I’d closed the gate behind me.

The big climb of the day was on the A6 and all my fears were put to bed as I joined the rode from a hill and could see the light traffic. A short rest in Shap to find out my sons’ GCSE results (good ones) and stock up on Kendal Mint Cake which I’d somehow forgotten to buy in Kendal, gave me fuel to continue onwards.

I missed the turn for my country lane detour but decided that the A6 had been such a positive experience that I’d stick with it. For once, my meddling with the route paid off and with the climbing behind me, the ride to Penrith flew by.

Back to NCN routes to Carlisle and a stop on the way in the sunshine to eat the lunch picked up in Penrith and discuss GCSE results with son.

It’s slightly disappointing that the gateway to a country as beautiful as Scotland is Gretna Green. Worse still that the approach is directly alongside the M6, so close in fact that when I was looking at the route last night, I thought I’d made a mistake and put myself on the motorway.

A quick stop to take the tourist selfie by the ‘Welcome to Scotland’ sign and a turn left to head West into the first headwind of the ride so far. The last 30 odd miles were a bit of a slog with no dramatic scenery for compensation. As nice as Dumfries itself is, the county of Dumfries and Galloway isn’t Scotland’s prettiest.

Tomorrow I get to see the ‘real’ Scotland and finish the day in Ardrossan with a view of Arran. A takeaway on the harbour is calling.

88 miles today. 594 in total.

The day I’d had the most concerns about, with the slog from Warrington to Preston without much in the way of scenery, turned out to be the most enjoyable so far. The trip to Screwfix was a success and armed with a set of tools and a tight headset, I ploughed my way through the miles. Rain threatened but never actually set in.

I swear I didn’t see a field until 17 miles in when the landscape turned to hills and the towns became villages. A man outside a shop in Orrel insisted on giving £2 for my fundraising; further down the road a man with a fez leapt out of a park car and gave me a cheery ‘hiya, y’areet?’ Then a man working on the road at the top of a hill shouted encouragement as I grimaced my way up. What was going on?

I was in Lancashire.

As I wound my way through the lovely countryside, place names jogged childhood memories of Sunday afternoons sat in pub gardens with crisps and a fizzy drink. Goosnargh and Inglewhite. This was turning out to be better than expected.

I decided to abandon my circuitous route which attempted to avoid Preston altogether but out of necessity, ended up in the centre anyway; and rode North up the A road and out the other side. It was fine and an early lunch of samosas, a falooda (look it up) and Indian sweets hit the spot.

 

Then my decision to avoid the A6 as much as possible, was vindicated. The Forest of Bowland provided the most stunning scenery so far and perhaps for the first time I felt a real sense of achievement, that I’d come a long way and for this, it was all worth it.

Buoyed by my earlier successful change of route, I tried the same on the way in to Kendal but this time I added rather than cut miles and had a couple of hair raising moments on a dual carriageway. From now on I’ll be sticking with the routes I have planned very carefully, which ironically includes a few miles on the A6 tomorrow.

91 miles today making a total of 506.

After riding 95 miles yesterday, today’s 78 over relatively flat country was going to be  a breeze. Today would be the day for regular stops. Rushing would land in me in Warrington earlier than was necessary. Add to that a prediction that the weather would be warm with a Southerly wind propelling me Northwards at speed. What could possibly go wrong?

At some point during Monday evening, I realised that I would need to make a detour into Shrewsbury to buy ‘supplies’ of a personal nature from a bike shop. I made a prompt start to compensate for the delay the detour would cause and left at 8:00am.

The first part went smoothly and the ‘supplies’ were obtained. The next bit, navigating my way out of Shrewsbury via its windy river and one way system was not quite as smooth. After a few attempts, I abandoned and left Shrewsbury the way I arrived, adding about 10 miles to the days riding. Bang went the frequent leisurely rest stops. Mercifully, I’d forgotten to press start on the Track app so no one was able to follow me as I rode in circles.

The route was fantastic and I made up time and stopped for a short lunch. The bike however, was not fine and in Nantwich I noticed some ‘play in the headset’ (I won’t go into details but big spanners were required; ones that were far too heavy for me to bring from home).

I found a bike shop and the headset was duly tightened but I wasnt sure how effectively and sure enough, by the time I reached Northwich, I was on the look out for a car garage so I could borrow the tools and do it myself. I found another bike shop and he did a more thorough job but was a bit more doom and gloom about the long term problems. As I arrived at my hotel I noticed a garage and was able to use their tools. The current plan is that I will pitch up at the Warrington branch of Screwfix tomorrow and purchase tools that weigh a lot more than I would prefer. I knew it was a mistake to order that apple crumble and ice cream in the pub as I write this.

Kendal calling tomorrow and rain forecast for the morning

An unnecessary 91 miles today for a total of 415.

The day began much like the previous one had ended. Bristol’s hills provided a challenging warm up, leaden skies produced fine drizzle and I crossed another landmark bridge. I’d had concerns about crossing the Severn as I’d heard that it could get a bit blustery up there but on a virtually still morning I was able to cross without getting the jitters.

 

I met up with a friend who had been tracking my progress and we sat in the drizzle on Chepstow High Street and caught up on news. The rain got heavier and by the time it eased off I was soaked and had to wear a spare jersey. I’d always felt that today would be a stretch; riding a good deal further than previous days and with the return of hillier terrain, particularly in Herefordshire. Today was a day to cover a few counties – Avon, Gloucestershire, Herefordshire and Shropshire with a very brief visit to Wales thrown in.

 

After the descent into Hereford and with quite a few miles still to go, I got into my stride and when the sun came out for the last 15 miles from Ludlow to my destination, a smile finally replaced the grimace that had set in during the rain.

I arrived at the B&B, literally in the middle of nowhere and was fed by a friend who had been touring the UK in his newly acquired camper van and was staying at a site down the road.

A shorter day tomorrow. Hopefully a more relaxed ride with longer breaks before I arrive in Warrington. Hmm!

95 miles today to bring the total to 324.

Five miles outside Tiverton there was one last hill to warm my legs up before things flattened out and I was relieved to discover that the Somerset Levels were as described. I cant say I was sorry to see the back of the hills but the landscape did become a bit monotonous. Lunch was sourced in Taunton then carried all the way to Chedzoy, a lovely village a few miles out of Bridgewater where. the churchyard there has piece of engineering which may well be the only one of its kind; unless someone knows better.

 

 

Eagle-eyed followers of the tracking may have noticed an unusually straight line on the map today, not a road built by the Romans but the result of pausing the app at lunchtime and forgetting to switch it back on. Current mileage therefore stands at 229.

The Strawberry Line is an 8 mile long stretch of disused railway line which was unfortunately closed. Helpfully, Sustrans had provided a diversion route. Unhelpfully, this was a narrow, muddy footpath through woodland onto which they had poured a few tons of bark chippings – not an appropriate surface for a road bike. I worked out my own diversion and joined the open section for a fast, smooth ride towards the Mendip Hills.

It had been threatening to rain for a while and the waterproof jacket was unfurled. It did keep me dry until about an hour out of Bristol, when the rain got a bit more serious and the final hill before I dropped down to cross the Clifton Suspension Bridge was long, dark and verging on being unpleasant. Continually having to wipe rain off the Garmin just to see where I was going was not something I’d like to have to repeat too often but fear that I will. The views from the bridge were amazing, even with the rain and I rode on to be greeted with a huge meal and great company with old friends; and even the promise of a riding partner to escort me to the Severn Bridge tomorrow – unless it rains.