Day 7: Carlisle to Kilmarnock

Total: 96.0 miles
Time in saddle: 5 hrs 9 mins
Average speed: 18.5 mph
Maximum speed: 43.4 mph
Cumulative: 611 miles
Chafing rating: 4/5 (aaarrgghh!)

I woke up this morning full of remorse. In yesterday's blog I referred to "that bloody bike". This is  no way to talk about my closest friend and so I apologised profusely when I picked it up from the storeroom. The bike rewarded me with a solid day at high average speed (for me) and we are now best friends again.

Breakfast in the Premier Inn (2nd class) in Carlisle was served in the partitioned room where they keep the chairs and IT equipment. Although there only appeared to be two other guests in the 'hotel', our dress code was deemed unsuitable for the restaurant. Each morning I have been eating granola with fruit salad and yoghurt, and drinking huge amounts of water, but as the tour goes on I am feeling stronger urges for more protein and I suspect a morning fry-up beckons tomorrow.

Some very miserable looking cyclists emerged from their cells this morning. In fact, I was just thinking how dejected Nick looked when Jen, the DA rep, told him the same. So he turned round and came back into Reception and ran out cheering and smiling but no-one was convinced. The halfway point was a source of celebation last night, but this morning cold reality had dawned on everyone that all those hard miles we had done had to be repeated, and repeated with tired legs. Robin Thicke's catchy ditty, "Blurred Lines" was blaring from the DA van again this morning, just like it has been every morning. This usually gets at least 3 cyclists dancing but this morning all we could see were serious faces and a few rythmically moving knees.

Entertainment was provided by Don from the Wirral. Or, The Don as he is known. Don is something of an ... ahem ... assertive rider who has collected a number of cars, vans and windscreen wipers on the way to Carlisle. He's a really nice bloke, but when you put him on a bike he's like one of the Polish Battle of Britain pilots: he doesn't always follow the plan but adds a huge amount to the overall effort with the number of kills he records. This morning, while we were warming up and stretching and pumping up tyres and checking brakes, we heard a "whooahh!" and saw Philip lying down on his bike in the car park. Philip rose with a patient smile to reveal, underneath him in a mangled pile, The Don. Don is indestructible.

This morning we had an early regroup planned for when we crossed the Scottish border at Gretna Green. We almost all arrived as planned, except we were 4 people down. We stood around, posed for photos, went to the loo and stood around a bit more. 

Me, Nick, John at Gretna Green

I phoned home to reassure Debbie that I had not eloped with another rider, and she expressed surprise that I had not married my bike.

My bike wouldn't fit through the door

We had a lovely chat and then I rejoined the others chatting and standing around a bit more getting colder and colder until, after 25 minutes, the strays appeared having taken a wrong turn. They were met with a big cheer and we all had a group photo in front of the Scotland sign. Pete, a tough and wiry Scotsman in the group, pulled out a bottle of whisky and we all raised our paper cups. I called out, "To Flodden!" and Nick and I watched the tumbleweed blow past before we got back on our bikes and headed for Annan.

It was a really tough ride today in quite hard conditions. Nick, John and I rode together all day, sometimes joined by others and sometimes just as a trio. It was a bit stop-start at first as I needed the loo (again), John needed to ditch his rain-jacket and Nick had a puncture. An occasional tailwind blew us along at 27 mph but the road was winding and we were buffeted by sidewinds and blustery headwinds on road surfaces that were extremely variable. Sometimes it felt as if we were cycling through treacle. The lunch stop at 62 miles could not have come soon enough and we relaxed in a barn eating cold meats and salads. The morning rides between the water stop and lunch are the hardest part of the day when the highest number of miles are covered. The afternoons are much easier.

Gourmet ice-creams at Catrine

Saddle soreness is becoming an over-riding issue for many of us, not just Vajrin, and especially me. And Nick. And Mick. Every few minutes, someone in the group will start a writhing shimmy above their seat before sitting down again gingerly, and then usually standing straight up again for a second attempt at a more painless landing. It's extremely uncomfortable. Sudocrem is now the hottest currency among the team.

We saw some lovely scenery as we rode. The steep forests of conifers either side of the road create such a different atmosphere from the pretty country lanes of Cumbria, yesterday. There was a real chill in the air and the oak and ash leaves are well on the way to turning autumnal colours.

We were not hallucinating (from a photo by Vajrin)

But most of this scenery felt as if it was in the distance today and the road itself was littered with trucks and potholes, meaning total concentration was essential. One thing we did spot just before lunch was a field of orange sheep. Nick told us they are dyed that colour to prevent rustling.

John heading for an ice cream

We reached Kilmarnock at 4.30pm after covering 96 miles in a little over 5 hours, at an average of 18.5 mph, the quickest of the trip so far. The Park Hotel, next to Kilmarnock Football Ground, is a far cry from the Carlisle Premier Inn.

Park Hotel (photo by Vajrin)

The atmosphere after the intense ride was quite heady. Nick and John appeared at dinner in dressing gowns and towels.

They have not explained why.