23 April 2011
9.15am
Relieved to find my legs have remembered what's expected of them cycling the short distance down to Lands End for the photo opportunity. One of the Lands End estate workers seemed remarkably unsurprised to be asked to take the shot and actually did a good job. And if the technology works, you should be able to judge for yourself. Phill, Jon and I are now back in the van heading for St Mawes to do the second leg of today's ride having waved Dom, Graham and Glenn on to Dartmoor for the third leg of the day. Meanwhile, Doc, Bails and Martin are off.
9.30
Just passed Doc, Martin and Bails stopped at the side of the road 5 miles out from Lands End devouring energy bars and drinking pop. Should we be worried?
14.30 Holed up Muffins Tea Shop in Lostwithiel having covered 28 miles of ascents and descents including a 17% gradient which went on for over a mile and had Phil thinking he wouldn't see the day out. Sitting in brilliant sunshine and seeking comfort in the chance to sit on a wider seat despite finding that Muffins don't sell Cornish pasties. Jonathan's contemplating nipping next door to the pasty shop and smuggling a couple back in. He's now relented, ordered a soup and is going to grab one to take away. Meanwhile I'm wondering why I've never seen sticky toffee fudge ice cream before. If there is a Nectar of the gods, I've just had it.
26 April
Since we set off from London, Phil has demonstrated an overly undue interest in the orderliness of the vans and in particular, strict adherence to the system for securing the bikes. It may not exercise his mind at wakeful moments during the night, but this morning Dom, Glenn, Graham and I found ourselves lined up at the back of the van on the receiving end of an impromptu van inspection. It was all the more subconciously nerve-racking for the fact of Phil wearing his standard issue emergency service reflective jacket. I'm relieved to say we passed and were allowed to get on our way to Cockerham - the starting point for our leg up to Penrith.
27 April
9.00am
There was a division in the group last night as Phil and Martin walked into Penrith to find a pub screening the Schalke v Man U match. The rest of us headed off to Pooley Bridge at the edge of Ullswater for wholesome fare, a sherry or two, and as you might imagine, deep philosophical debate about the lasting impact of Proust and Satre on society. We also found time for a discussion about the effect of daily full monties on the digestive system and the problems it presents to cyclists who are often far from ablutionary comforts.
9.30am
Today I'm in team two yet again but with a different line up to yesterday. Glenn and I are now with Doc and Bails heading for Moniaive where we'll be kicking off with a 6 mile climb of 650 feet heading west towards Irvine where we're staying the night. Team one will cover the first leg of today's route from Penrith to Moniaive. According to official stats, those of us in team two yesterday climbed a staggering total of 4300 feet. At this stage, 650 feet sounds like a pimple on the landscape. I'll let you know.
1.00pm
We've now completed the first two stages of today's route and are just outside Dalmellington eating M&S sandwiches and pasta salads. We'd bought them at Southwaite services shortly after leaving Penrith, the idea being that it may be difficult finding a decent troughing stop in the Ayrshire countryside. Sitting here in brilliant sunshine on a patch of lush grass with forested mountains and lowland meadows in either direction, we couldn't have planned it better. The whole morning has been a story of smooth topped mountains rising on either side of a deserted, snaking road. At a little village called Watertown, a train track runs along the side of the river and an old stone bridge joins two pea green banks lavishly dotted with flowering daffodils. The animators of Postman Pat couldn't have done a better job if they'd tried.
Day 6
5.00am
Up early this morning. We need to be at the port in Ardrossan by 6.30 to catch the 7.00 ferry across to Arran. We'll rendezvous with Ann-Marie, Dom's wife, who has had to get up even earlier to travel down from Glasgow by taxi with her bike. She's going to join us for the last three day push up to John O'Groats. Last September, she and Dom did a charity ride from London to Paris, so she's obviously no cycling novice. She's unlikely to have any impact on the speed of progress but it'll be interesting to see what moderating influence she has on a pack of nine boys whose veneer of respectable adulthood and decorum has been slipping by the day.
Four Star Luxury
With no Travelodge in Irvine, we stayed at the only available hotel able to accommodate a group of nine - The Menzies, our first four-star hotel of the trip. It was such a treat to be able to stretch out in the bath instead of having to sit in the emergency brace position.
Go West Young Man
Miraculously, despite the lure of king size beds and superior bathrooms, we left the hotel on time just before 6.00. I drove the lead van and was navigating us all to the port. Fifteen minutes into the journey, it was Doc who asked in a calm, if slightly puzzled voice, "if we're supposed to be tavelling west, why are we driving towards that big round orange thing?". I had mistaken Stevenston for Stewarton and had put us several miles further East of our destination and from our check-in time of 6.30. With a swift and nimble 180 degree turn, I put the pedal down and could only wonder at the disdainful banter going on in the following van. We arrived to a waiting AM standing on the dock with her bike with five minutes to spare.
7.30
Ferry docks in Brodick in 25 minutes. Sea flat, sky blue and the beckoning mountains of Arran are lit by warm brilliant sunshine.
Day 7
I didn't get a chance to blog yesterday. The cumulative effect of poor sleep, an early start, blazing sun, dehydration and the unremitting physical demand on a 52 year old body, finally showed when we arrived in Tarbert for lunch. Stomach cramps had set in, and all I could manage was a bowl of soup. This meant that for the rest of the day, which included another series of climbs towards Oban, I was running on empty. When we finally arrived in Fort William at 8.40, I went straight to bed without food. Hopefully I'll have a chance to blog tonight from Inverness and report on the progress of Ann (The Goat) Marie who seemingly sailed up the punishing two mile climb over Arran.
Bike Trouble
While Ann (The Goat) Marie, hereafter known as ATGM, was spinning her wheels towards the top of Arran, her husband Dom was showing one of his to the bike shop in Brodick. Within a fee hundred yards of leaving the harbour, he'd lost another spoke. So far he's been the only one to suffer such a fate. I call that spokey. (sorry Anne)
Arran
Apart from Martin and Phil who volunteered to drive the vans from one side of Arran to the other, (Phil, having spent many a happy holiday on the island, said he'd seen it all before and didn't need to ride it) the rest of us all cycled the crippling climb to the top of Arran and were made to realise that Phil's local knowledge had served him well!
The Road to Fort William
The pay-off in putting yourself through the crippling grind up hill, is the luxury of a three mile freewheel the other side and the reward of seeing Lochranza on the other side.
As we glided alongside the little inlet that shelters Lochranza from the worst of the northerly weather, we watched the only ferry as it pulled away from the landing ramp towards Claonaig on Tyree. This gave us almost an hour to kill at a modest but posh coffee hut, whose only seating was outside around a small manicured lawn, opposite the ferry ramp. We sat in more blazing sunshine chatting to another group of cyclists who were retracing our steps to Ardrossan and who had come from Inverness via a series of island hops down the west coast.
The little pebbly beach across the road offered a bonanza of skimming stones, and in a moment of childhood regression, Graham, Dom, Glenn and I found an opportunity for a little harmless competition. Modesty prevents me from revealing who achieved the greatest number of skips and I've no doubt prevented each of the others from doing the same.
Day 8 – Saturday 30 April 2011
5.45pm
We have just arrived in John O'Groats and are looking down to the John O'Groats ferry drinking glasses of champagne, courtesy of Glenn's wife Christine, who drove up earlier on the day from Edinburgh and met us en route from Inverness. There's a sense of disbelief among some of us that not only are we at such an iconic location, but that we've arrived here on bikes. For most, it's been a once in a lifetime experience. Although the wind has been against us for most of the week, the sun has shone and we haven't felt a drop of rain. We've also enjoyed a series of adventures and shared some hilarious moments. These are the things that will remain with us and fix it in our memories as a particularly unique experience. As such, it's impossible to recreate. It's also given us the chance to see parts of the British Isles we've never seen before. We are all feeling a great sense of achievement. Most of us were not cyclists six months ago, and although some may not get back on their bikes anytime soon, others of us have found a new way of exercising which doesn't involve being in the sterile environment of a gym.
I've now phoned Anne to tell her the news. All our wives and partners have been very supportive of the project, despite some being left with sole childcare responsibility over a series of Bank Holidays. In my case, it has denied Anne and me celebrating our twelfth wedding anniversary together tomorrow. So to Anne, Happy Anniversary - I love you.
I will try and update this blog retrospectively when I have the chance.
Finally, I and the lads would like to thank all those people who have donated to our chosen charities. Your support has meant a lot to us in the dark moments when we questioned why on earth we were doing it - mostly while straining our thighs to reach a seemingly never ending summit.
Would we do something like this again? Almost certainly. Would I do LeJog again - almost certainly not.