So, to the last leg of our journey. We descended from the Crask Inn towards the coast at Bettyhill. The weather forecast for today was dire but I was hoping that it would be proved wrong. The first part the journey was an easy descent but into a head/side wind which slowed things up considerably. The road then became lumpy and it started to rain; my hopes were dashed. I was left straggling behind the others, determined to conserve my battery for the more challenging climbs to come after first lunch.
After a long and steep climb I arrived at Bettyhill, wet and cold as the rain was now persistent. I ate first lunch in the car trying to keep warm. The leg between first and second lunch was very tough. The rain hammered down and we battled against a head wind of 22 mph, gusting to 35 mph. We eventually struggled on to second lunch at Thurso, some twenty miles from John O’ Groats. I sat shivering in the car almost unable to hold a cup of black coffee. It would have been easy and perhaps sensible to give up at this point but we were all determined to finish the course. So, I put on another layer of clothing and set off.
Scott and I rode together the last few miles to the end and I was very glad of his company. When we got to John O’ Groats the five of us lined up as in previous years and rode the last two hundred yards together to the end of our journey. As the rain continued to hammer down, we took some quick photos and then cycled back to our hotel where I spent twenty minutes in a hot shower trying to warm up. As I undressed in order to get in the shower, the thought of which, along with Scott’s company and support, had kept me going, I discovered that I was soaked to the skin. Not only that, certain, let me say, more delicate parts of my anatomy, had been rubbing on my soggy pants. I did not realise the full extent of the damage until the scolding hot water hit. Hopefully, nobody could hear my cries of pain and expletives, through the shower door.
After everyone had showered and got into dry clothing we met in our room for a celebratory scotch, something we normally did at the finish line but on this occasion, wind and rain stopped play, so to speak. We then proceeded to the hotel restaurant for a celebration meal and awards. I got an award for my dogged determination. I also announced my retirement from long distance cycling (maybe).
On Saturday 10th August, we started the journey home. We decided to do this in two parts this time, instead of all in one go, as in previous years. So, we drove from John O’ Groats to Carlisle and stayed the night in a B and B. On arrival went out for a pub meal. This proved more challenging that we imagined it would be, as the road where all the eateries were was packed with customers. Eventually we found a place which served good beer and pizza. However, the service was terribly slow and the music appallingly loud. The younger element kept looking at me with worried glances. I guess they were wondering if Fr Grumpy would start holding forth. I didn’t. I was somewhat moved by their concern for my wellbeing, something which was manifest throughout our ride and for which I was truly grateful.
The next day we undertook the final part of the journey home. We stopped at Warwick Service Station for a late lunch and bad farewell to the Garretts. We arrived home at around 5pm. In the evening we went to the Pheasant for supper with Adam and then chilled in front of the TV.
LEJOG 2019 was by far the toughest of the three times we have ridden this epic journey, which takes in the entire length of the British Isles. We cooked in the heat down south and froze in the Northern headwinds and driving rain. The adversity, however, made the accomplishment all the more, I won’t say enjoyable, but rather fulfilling, much was demanded of all of us. So, here endeth the third and definitely final LEJOG adventure but maybe not the last cycling adventure. We’ve done “End to End”, what about “Side to Side”?
Ezekiel's Wheels 