"EPIBLOGUE"

Psalm 121: "I will lift my eyes unto the hills: from whence cometh my help" 

It did take a few days for it to arrive!! 

The dust has now settled and we have arrived back home after a fantastic 11 days of riding through mostly beautiful British Countryside.
We covered about 950 miles, did 13,891 metres of climbing - that is approximately one and a half Mount Everests that we have cycled up (and down). No, we did not see any Yetis but the closest we came to something that might have been a Yeti was in Dingwall, Highlands (don't go looking yourself - just trust us!!).
We have been extremely fortunate with the weather - and at the same time also a bit challenged. We had little rain (3-4 days of drizzle) but then we had headwind on 8/11 days. 
October was not a bad month to do it (Paul's choice - thank you, P!!). The great advantage was no Midgies and NO CARAVANS in Scotland. The Scottish roads would have been a nightmare during the high season.
We had no punctures (Tyre Choice important!) and no serious mishaps.
We met loads of lovely helpful people, enjoyed great hospitality, ate some good meals  and drank some good beer (my favourite was Skinner's Lushington, Paul's was St. Austell's Proper Job although we both became very fond of Dark Island from the Orkneys). And although I rarely drink whisky they were absolutely fantastic when imbibed at JOG.
What were the highlights? For me Wye Valley, the climb up to Shap (more enjoyable had it not been for the wind), the ride on the paths through Glasgow and on to Loch Lomond, the ride from Rannoch Moor down into Glen Coe, the ride along Loch Ness and the ride from Lairg and up to Betty Hill.
For me seeing the North Sea at Betty Hill was rather emotional - actually it had more of an impact than getting to the signpost in JOG. 
In Scotland we saw birds of prey (or were they nightingales?I am afraid I still cannot remember their song, Peter!!) - one in particular sat on a road sign until I was 3-4 metres away and then elegantly took off. The same morning a stag with its girlfriends crossed the road in front of us.
We moved from Summer in Cornwall to Autumn in Scotland.
We had some great banter in the evenings - "the crack was good" as Van the Man would say!
And the lows? The hills in Cornwall were really really tough and progress was demoralisingly slow. And the headwind!!! The worst time was a completely flat bit of road from the Severn Bridge towards Chepstow. I was pedalling for England (and Denmark, France  etc) and I could keep a speed of 5 mph - I even swerved to get shelter for split seconds behind road signs to improve my progress! Likewise the ride into the wind at Carlisle was absolutely awful. But then we found a lovely B and B with a lovely woman who even agreed to feed us breakfast an hour earlier than normal on the Sunday and all misery was forgotten. 

So are we glad we did it - you bet we are!! Would we do it again - Paul would not (still a mountain biker!), me probably not - I have done it, now let's do something else. But then again......perhaps....given the right......
Through it all it has been absolutely fantastic to have the support from friends and followers via Facebook, blog-responds(sorry about the misprints - never alcohol induced as the blog was done before, and in spite of what you think we always knew that our beasts were waiting for us at the crack of dawn), texts etc. When you feel as if your bib-shorts have been padded with peppercorns and carpet-tags, your back is achy and the wind is pushing you back south you need all the support you can get.


And to those of you who have donated to my charity, Kids Company - thank you ever so much.
I have raised around £ 2000 thanks to everybody's generosity.
If I can provide any advice re. doing LEJOG I am happy to do so - if you have any thoughts about doing it - just do it!!!!!
Photo gallery can be seen on https://picasaweb.google.com/100886847186183415061/LEJOGOctober202013?authuser=0&authkey=Gv1sRgCIP1y-fCs4eYmwE&feat=directlink

The Conversion of MB Paul on the road to JOG

Several weeks prior to our adventure I received a parcel in the post containing the cyclists (the Velomenati) bible: The Rules. Soren predicted that I would soon be sporting razor tan lines and be converted to being a roadie. Having read the bible I prepared for the trip adhering to the Rules. Tyre labels perfectly aligned with valve stems, camelpak left behind with the mountain bike, no cycling tops such as Sky or Rainbow jerseys that I haven't earnt the right to wear, black cycling shorts, and a bike at the start of the trip that made no noise. Soren was a fantastic leader by example and great mentor. Soren was a great travelling companion - thanks Soren I could not have done this on my own.

During this trip I adhered to the rules: cornering with confidence, riding in all weathers and descending like a demon.

The only rule I could not bring myself to obey was "shaving my guns".

For the Velomenati the key rule is rule "V". I believe both Soren and I have lived by this rule riding through significant discomfort and pain and as such should be considered disciples of the "V".

However my conversion did not materialise. I am a Mountain Biker at heart and the call of Broxbourne Woods with all of its unpredictability is where I want to be. I just want to get back to my dirty ways!

PS: If Soren's Blog inspires you, as it should, to attempt LEJOG or JOGLE please be advised that this time next year (2014) you may face extra hurdles such as customs at the Scotish Border, don't forget your passport and Scotish currency whatever that may be.

Betty Hill to JOG

Here you were meant to see a photo of Paul Nd me at the famous post at JOG - but if you think that cycling 940ish miles is hard I can tell you that getting bloody google downloading photos is much harder!
-Anyway we  started the day with our usual breakfast consisting of everything that was once good, was then bad and is now good for you again . Applied the various crimes and layers of Lycra  and off we went on the final leg. The first 1 'Mille was great, straight down hill until we met Molly-2 straight uphill again. An incline that rekindled memories of cornwall ! Like this we continued for 20-30 miles in a gentle drizzle and an easterly wind . We stopped for tea after 20 miles but there was no tea nor any tea belles! Let this be a warning to you all. When a map og Scotland shows what in England would be a sizeable settlement it means two derelict buildings and a blown over caravan. No luck re nutrition until we reached the metropolis of Thurso, where a Polish establishment provided us with dishes from their eastern homeland - a burger for Paul and CHicken curry for me. Both excellent.
Off into the wind and the last 20 miles to JOG which we ached just after lunch. My final thought was "what a great wind to propel you southwards on,". We had finally done it 11 1/2 days and we could have our picture taken at the famous pole (not the Eastern European one).
Paul refused to pedal one stroke more - he had been pedalling valiantly on inspite of a rather angry tendinitis of his tibial is Anterior tendon and insisted on walking to the Seaview hotel where we had booked accommodation.
We were received with a couple of large Scapa malts and a gat pint of Orkney special bitter - lovely dry, slightly hoppy. Excellent!
Then for me 4 sandwiches and two energy bars , a hot shower Nd mugs of tea before supper.
An extra surprise was a present from my friend David - two bottles of Twisted Wheel were waiting behind the bar!!
So what has the overall impression of the trip been - it probably needs time to sink in - and the pain of the backside settle! But it is a bit like life in general - and as Tom Lehrer said "life is like a sewer, what you get out of it depends on what you put into it." We have certainly had some rather shitty times but had great great times as well. Paul has been an excellent travelling companion, just get on with it. Pedal for England! And we have had great evening chats in front of fireplaces (real and imaginatory!). It has been a great adventure , one I can strongly recommend - and possible even this time of year. We have been lucky to escape rain but has had the blasted head wind to battle with. As in life you cannot win all the time but generally things will rather go well. Which it did, and we did it.
Thanks to all supporters and all (both?) blog readers. Your encouragement has been most appreciated.
There will probably be an "epiblogue" when it has all sunk in.
But now the haggis and the whiskye and the beer is calling!!!

Dingwall to Betty Hill

Sorry about late blog - all this was written on Wednesday evening (I have no idea of the date but presume that it is still October?)
We left the charming establishment of the National Hotel , (an american visitor's choice of footwear caught my eye - when he chose those white snakeskin boots what else did he decide NOT to purchase?)  with me leaving behind 7/8th of a pint of mcEwans Best (ha!! If there was ever an inappropriate name) - the beer had been served by a rather unflattering over-tatooed member of the female race (allegedly) which brought on my morning contemplation - in England all bar/pub/tea room girls had qualities that can  invigorate and support faculties of struggling cyclists. The landscape of England is in places charming, even pretty.
In Scotland the landscape is absolutely stunning, breathlessly out-of-this-world but the female attendants leave a lot to be desired. The aforementioned specimen in Dingwall may have been nested in the most beautiful tree in the most beautiful Forrest but something clearly happened when she left her nest.  So I felt pretty certain about the validity of this theory as we progressed through the lush autumnal landscape towards Bonar Bridge. The mountain sides were covered in bracken and heather just past its most beautiful display of purple. We descended  through thick mist to Bonar Bridge where we found a delightful tearoom with wonderful homemade cakes (chocolate cake AND velvet cake for me, toast for Paul, Mr Sensible!). This was served by a charming and pretty young girl, and as our next stop in the Boathouse in Lairg was of similar high quality (Adam, please note - the girls and the quality of the soup and sandwiches was impeccable ). So I have to come up with another theory!
We travelled on surrounded by beauty to Alt Na Hara where we hose an even narrower track up though the mountains (and the head wind had  found us again). Fortunately the road followed a river DOWN-stream (it had not occurred to the great Contemplator that most rivers flow towards the sea!).
We arrived at our destination Betty Hill late afternoon and booked into our accommodation.
But the thrill of the day was seeing the North Sea in the bay - after 900 something miles we had bloodywellalmostdoneit!! We spend the evening surrounded by possibly very friendly locals whose every other word started with f and sometimes several words started the same way.
And having suffered poor quality beer for days (including that wretched Belhaven - I hope someone from Greene King reads this - if this was a game of Monopoly you would sell it immediately!- we were much encouraged to be reunited with that old favourite of ours, Dark Island from the Orkneys. Ah, bliss. And tomorrow for the final push!

The Great Glen

We are staying in a possibly once very impressive hotel (in :Dingwal, 15 miles north of Inverness) which like the roads,of Scotland have seen better days. The Internet connection is "challenging" and photos cannot be added to this.
But mentioning the road surfaces of Scotland - they must have been designed by someone who thinks that rubbing coarse wool against your bare buttocks is suitably comfortable clothing . In my opinion both are in need of some redesigning.
Anyway - we headed off at 0800 from the Clan MacDuff hotel in Fort William with low , very low hanging clouds but above  them a. Glorious blue sky - and we saw it because the clouds did disperse with the rather late but even more welcome rays of the sun. The morning temperature was only 4*.
We followed a lovely single track bumpy road on  the western  side of the Glen and from there all the glorious autumnal colours soon became visible. Ranging from purple, to all shades of red, earthy to lighter shades of brown, with blue bits interspersed. I am of cause talking about the colours of our backsides which in spite of having been submerged in Chamois cream, Arnica,and Ibugel were playing up and had they not been modestly covered in Lycra would very likely have made it worth the trip for the hundreds of Chinese tourists lurking everywhere cameras in hand.
But the non-Lycra covered nature was certainly also a spectacle worth enjoying (photos taken can not be attached due to the slow connection),.
We followed  the road past castle Urquehart on Loch Ness - the water as still as a mirror with boats barely making any headway due to the absence of wind.
We journeyed to Inverness where we purchased our train tickets from Wick this coming Friday. Yes, they can take our bikes but in general there is room for 2, max 4 bikes per train! And as there is one perhaps two trains per day from Wick that might cause a problem during high season.
We then headed northwards over the Bridge to Ross Shire and followed cycle tracks to Dingwall - probably the grimest place we have visited so far ( a shop window advertised men's shirts size 2XL - 6XL.
The evening meal was taken in a Chinese establishment called Ding - it was followed by a to me i drinkable pint of McEwans 80 shilling in the hotel bar. Paul managed to finish his so he gets the day's medal for bravery in the face of beverage not fit for human consumption.
Tomorrow we will try to convince our backsides that a further ride 80 miles along a bumpy road will do them good. That will bring us to Bettyhill, leaving a 60 mile ride on Thursday to "finish the job".
All your mails and comments are gratefully received received and enjoyed by the entire band of brothers and their steeds.

On Rannoch Moor

We left Glasgow on a bonnie Scottish morning, took the magnificent cycle track along the river Leven to Loch Lomond where head wind and rain found us waiting their arrival. We followed the river to Craig- something where the landlord warned us against going over the moor. The weather was at best unpredictable. However it turned out to be unpredictably agreeable (cold, yes. Windy, yes. headwind - why ask). But after the somewhat strenuous , but short climb we were enjoying the moon scape of the moors. We had by the usual village idiot who clearly had never left the place of his birth been told that once up it was a free-ride down to Glen Coe. Well, that was not exactly how we experienced it - but the last 8 miles were fantastic- a roller coaster ride surrounded by autumn colours illuminated by the setting sun. Between holding on to the handlebars whilst descending at 35 mph I did manage to get some photos of the scenery (no I was not fast enough to take the one of P and me). We decided to press on to Fort William in order to fulfil our duties as justices of peace in the local bar. The Belhaven on Tap is really rather disappointing , but the bottles of Red MacGregor and Dark Island were spectacular (both from the Orkney brewery, 5000 years in the making). The R McG had a  Malty quality but S also thought there was a hint of Rum. The DI according to Paul had a "sitting around the fireplace" quality to it - lovely sweetish malty perhaps with a hint of iodine ( it will probably do our ever sore backsides some good!) . Possibly not session ales but a wonderful change to Belhaven which was also forced upon us (we did struggle and protest!!) in Glasgow.

Tomorrow we aim to pass through Inverness, purchase our return tickets to civilisation, welcome home parties, media obligations, and visits to our local watering holes. We will break up the remaining 220ish miles into three stages and a similar amount of beers. So much to experience and taste, so little time.

A Glasweigan Guardian Angel

We had an early start from Carlisle. Excellent full breakfast and with two full stomachs we set off. The wind was (temporarily) gone and we arrived in Scotland via Gretna at 0855. At the anvil in the smithy we renewed our vows to stick together through thin and even more thin until JohnO'Groats or perhaps even until the train station in Wick.
We stopped for tea and food in Lockerbie (the staff did not have the same presence as they did south of the border but we remain hopeful and unbiased). As we got back in the saddles again the wind remembered that it was there to blow and preferably against our direction of travel. We fought on and gradually the ancient God of the wind (Flatus Maximus?) realised that by now Paul and I are Hard Men (velominTi apprentices) and will take no nonsense. So we gradually got a sideways push and then a tailwind as we made it up past Moffat.
We decided to aim for Glasgow and made it trough Hamilton (every time we saw a kid with hands in his pocket we feared that he would throw stones at us but our fear was completely unfounded). In fact  we were embarrassed by the arrival of our new Best Friend and personal Guardian Angel, Bobby (G.A's have no surnames but he did go to university with Charles Kennedy, no angel!). Booby arrived on his Chariot of Steel - he had been out on a wee trip doing 60'ish miles. He suggested to take us through Glasgow avoiding death traps and traffic hotspots. We had a super route laid out for us which included 40+ minutes on beautifully tarmac'ed roads along the Clyde, cycleroute 75 (by the way the general quality of the road surfaces in Scotland, home of the inventor of asphalt, MacAdam, is atrocious. Bobby told me that in the time leading up to the Referendum a lot of roads are suddenly resurfaced!). We reached  the centre of Glasgow safely and then continued west wards along the Clyde. By then it was pitch dark and we sought temporary refuge at the Beardmore - originally built as part of a Private Hospital set up. We had by then clocked up 111 miles and felt that we deserved some luxury. And here we are , the steaks and chips are down, the Belhaven ditto (owned by Greene King in B St E) and the pudding will be washed down with a tumbler of Leffe.
Bobby has advices us on the route for our further travel and I am sure that he will be watching over us form his seat on the top of Mount Velominatus.
Loch Lomond calls!