I had a very good night’s sleep, probably aided by the hearty meal and several Scotches last evening. The gastronomic delights continued in the morning with a really good full English breakfast, so we were all fuelled up and ready to go and got underway around 8.45am.
The first fifteen miles of the route consisted of some long climbs. Nothing particularly steep but somewhat unremitting. Gradually the terrain flatted out. It had rained overnight, so we feared the worst, but as we set off it was merely cloudy and as the day wore on the weather got more and more sunny albeit with a strong breeze.
The countryside also improved with some pleasant cycling, a considerable improvement on yesterday’s rather dire boring slog. Eventually after second lunch we came to a path leading us alongside the River Clyde. Whilst cycling along the Clyde I wondered what the fishing might be like when I came upon a lad who had just caught a roach of about half a pound in weight, so that answered that question, at least in part. Water and its piscatorial contents have fascinated me ever since I was a boy. However, this has given rise to a joke, I use the word loosely, among certain members of the Tadworth Massive, when we are out together. Whenever we pass a stretch of water they say, “do you think there are any carp in there, Mick?” (Apparently this is something I regularly ask whenever we pass a stretch of water – can’t say I’ve noticed that myself!)
This route along the Clyde enabled us to more or less bypass Glasgow. Julia and Mary were not so fortunate and had to plough through the city centre, albeit on a motorway. There was a little bit of urban cycling on the very edge of Glasgow city centre and then a bit of the accompanying urban sprawl before we turned onto a canal towpath for some more flat and pleasant cycling.
Eventually, we came to the last part of the day’s ride, again a pleasant part of the route along the river Leven with anglers waist deep in the fast-flowing waters fly fishing, presumably for sea trout or salmon. Not really a carp water, chub and barbel most likely, chaps. I digress.
Scott suffered a puncture on the last leg of the day and Lizzie suffered two, all self-induced as they attempted to jump up curbs and failed. The outcome of this failed attempt was they smashed into the curb at speed and even the toughest tyre can’t withstand that kind of punishment: no doubt a case of pinched inner tube. Lizzie blamed her abortive attempt at a jump on the corpse of a dead pigeon beside the road. Well I’ve heard some excuses, but really!
Eventually, we arrived at our B and B which turned out to be a real winner. When planning the overnight stops Julia decided not to plump for the Loch Lomond Youth Hostel where we had stayed on the two previous LEJOGs as it involved a long and uncomfortable drive along a dirt road and the ever-present danger of being eaten alive by midges. So, she decided to take a punt on a B & B just on the outskirts of Balloch, about a quarter mile from where the day’s ride ended. The support team were in ecstasies over the laundry facilities, whilst we cyclists could hardly believe our eyes when we discovered that there was a hot tub in the garden. Oh, bliss! The day’s ride had been a long one, some eighty-five miles but once in the tub, with a beer in my hand, my legs revived a treat. Likewise, my hunger was also alleviated, when we were eventually persuaded to exit the tub, and presented with a hearty beef pie provided by our gallant support team.
When all was said and done a great start to the day, a pleasant ride for the most part and an even better end. What will tomorrow hold for the intrepid cyclists? You will find out (or if you were a member of the team be reminded) in the next post.
Ezekiel's Wheels 