Prayers. Midges and Whisky

The penultimate day of our adventure, and the weather was, on the whole, kind to us all day.  There was no sign of rain but we did have to contend with a headwind for much of the day. However, on the upside we cycled through some glorious scenery.  Compared with other days, the distance was not so great but there were some very significant and long climbs. Nothing too steep but the climb from Bonar Bridge to the Crask Inn, around twenty-five miles averaged out at about 5% and, from my point of view, knackered both battery and rider.

Talking of Bonar Bridge, there were two significant things of note when we stopped there for second lunch.  The first was the fact that the car park, which is situated beside the Dornoch Firth, just before you cross over and start the last part of the day’s ride, houses the most revolting toilet block I have ever come across.  It is truly revolting!  The best way of dealing with it is to take a deep breath before you enter and try to hold it for as long as possible before you are exposed to the foul air inside, which clings to the building like some vile poisonous fog.

By total contrast, the second memorable thing (to me at least) was the fact that, standing waist deep in the fast-flowing waters of the river, there were a number of anglers fly fishing with double handed rods.  I watched them eagerly whilst munching on my lunchtime rolls. Their quarry, I guess, were sea trout or maybe salmon.  I watched with envy their rhythmic casting.  I have caught a good number of rainbow and brown trout fly fishing but never the kind of fish these guys were after.  A successful angler walked through the car park carrying a sizable sea trout.  My envy level went up a couple of notches.  Another thing to at to my “Bucket List”.

After second lunch, we crossed Bonar Bridge and headed up into the hills towards our isolated stop for the night at the Crask Inn.  The views that one gets on this wild part of the ride have changed considerably since we first past that way two LEJOGs ago.  Back in 2013 a great deal of the land, which had been given over to be a pine tree plantation, had been stripped, leaving the countryside looking like some nightmare vision of a WW1 battle field with twisted stumps of tree roots and little else.  Now we found it completely transformed.  Removing the tightly packed pine trees, which blocked out any sunlight from the forest floor, causing it to be sterile of any other vegetation, had enabled a veritable resurgence of plant life and small indigenous trees.  The whole vista was transformed for the better.

When we arrived at the Crask Inn we were just in time for Evening Prayer, which was a lovely blessing at the end of a hard day. The Crask Inn is now run by the Episcopal Church of Scotland and serves as both a place of hospitality and also of prayer. At the service we were reacquainted with Kai, the elderly woman, who with her husband, used to run the place and now lives in the newly constituted Bunk House, where we stayed the last couple times we did LEJOG.  Another addition to the property was a large storage shed built next to the pub.  It was there I charged up my Ribble, which I will certainly need for the last leg of the journey tomorrow, as there is quite a lot of climbing involved in the latter part of the day’s ride.

As far as today’s ride was concerned the major problem was not the climbing nor the headwind but the ubiquitous midges, which attack you the minute you stop. These little buggers seem to be able to get you through your clothing.  If you can get above around 10mph you leave them behind, drop much below that and you get eaten alive.  However, once ensconced in the Crask Inn we left our tiny attackers outside and enjoyed a good meal, some excellent beer and even better whisky.  We forgot the midges and tried not to think about the weather forecast for tomorrow, which was not good!

General Wade’s Folly

Wednesday 7^th August dawned, the 12^th stage of our pilgrimage north.  What can we say about today’s cycling?  Something along these lines, in fact I think I did actually say this at the time; “I like a laugh and a joke but a Pantomime in August is a bit much”.  Another comment I do remember saying was, “well this is a whole crock of shit”. The reason for such an assessment was that periodically during the day, the heavens opened and it pissed down with rain; not at all enjoyable.  On our journey, we had gone from one extreme in the South, sweltering heat, to wet and cold in the North.  Ah well, that’s long distance cycling for you, in the UK.

On the way out of Glencoe there was a bit of a cycle path starting at Ballachulish and ending at North Ballachulish which was, at best, indifferent and then we got on the A82 to Fort William.  A road with wonderful views across Loch Eil.  By now the rain had eased and we could see across the loch. It was flat and easy to ride but narrow and with all the dangers of coaches and lorries heading for Fort William.  Once in Fort William the rain started up again.  We pressed on, turning off the A830 which took us out of Fort William and we headed up some minor roads and the climbing started, but nothing compared with what lay ahead.

Fifty miles of cycling brought us to another fort, this time Fort Augustus, via Laggan Locks, where we caught sight of The Caledonian Canal.  This is a wonderful example of 19^th Century engineering, designed by Thomas Telford. Now the fun began.  Just outside Fort Augustus lies the start of General Wade’s Military Road.  I’m not sure if the good General had time on his hands and needed to keep his troops employed, hence he employed them as road builders, what I am sure of is that he chose a bloody silly way to get to Inverness.  There is a flat route along the banks of Loch Ness.  Perhaps there was no road that way in his day, or perhaps he studied Roman road building, i.e., go in a straight line no matter what you have to go over.  We, like him, chose the silly route.

Let me tell you some more things about General Wade’s Military Road.  It is the longest single climb on LEJOG, around five miles and parts of it have a gradient of 15%.  It is therefore quite demanding at the best of times.  These were not the best of times, for about half way up the ascent the heavens opened to such an extent that it was hard to see exactly where you were going.  The first LEJOG I had to walk up the steepest parts of the climb.  The second LEJOG, I actually managed to make it all the way up without dismounting.  This was in part achieved by zig-zagging across the road to reduce the gradient of the steepest sections, whilst keeping an ear open for cars.  This time, aided by my trusty Ribble, I managed to get up the climb in second, but nearly knackered the battery on my bike in the process.

At the top of the climb we stopped to eat and fuel up for the last part of the day which involved a steep descent, in wet conditions, through Whitebridge and then a gentle climb up and beyond Torness.  Another steep descent followed through Dorres and then some lumpy riding which brought us to the outskirts of Inverness.

At eighty-three miles, it was a long and hard day’s riding without the complication of the rain. The upside was that Scott managed a whole day’s cycling without recourse to a cycle repair shop. Ollie’s repair work from the previous evening held.  In the latter part of the ride the heavy rain had brought down a considerable amount of mud and stones onto the road which made for rather dangerous conditions. All in all, we were very glad to make it to the Youth Hostel in Inverness. Ollie worked his magic once more on the very dirty bikes and Julia and Mary cooked up dirty rice (tastier than it sounds!), followed by fruit tarts with custard. After a hot shower and a good meal, I started to feel human again. What, I wonder, will tomorrow, the penultimate day’s riding, bring? Not more of the same, I hope. We had been sorely tested but not been found wanting.  “Anyone seen the weather forecast?”