Day 9: Inverary to South Laggan

Total: 95 miles
Time in saddle: 6 hrs 12 mins
Average speed: 15.5 mph
Maximum speed: 40.2 mph
Cumulative: 787
Chafing Rating: 5/5 (AAAARRGGHHH. NUUUURSE!!!)

"Yooour bottom will wish it had never been born!"
(The Baby-Eating Bishop of Bath and Wells, Blackadder II)

Oh God, the chafing. I don't so much need a bike seat as a toast rack. But enough of that.

We have been phenomenally lucky with the weather so far but today we awoke to forbidding clouds and a pessimistic forecast. This was the toughest day of the ride by far, 95 miles across the Highlands in howling winds and constant drizzle.

The view from the hotel in Inverary at 8.00am

This was a tough day mentally too. When you cycle 100 miles north in England you pass a huge number of familiar sounding towns and cross county borders getting a sense of real progress. That is not the case in Scotland where the massive landscapes do not pass quickly. My previous experience of Scotland has mainly been driving. It is easier to enjoy the scenery in the car, getting out occasionally to take a photograph and then hurrying back into the car because the wind and rain are battering you. It is not the same when you are out on it all day on a bike. The landmarks are stunningly beautiful but you see them for 20 miles of hard slog into a headwind and the distance passes really slowly. It is difficult to get a sense of scale. Hard hills look small in the landscape and you often hit them unprepared.

With Craig

What makes it more difficult is that we are starting to count down the days now which is not a good idea as we still have 200 miles to go. A conversation on this subject is taking place right now in the youth hostel where we are staying. Everyone is starting to get weary and is starting to look forward to the end.

To add to this a few injuries are appearing in the camp. Several people (John, Lizzie, Tommy) have strained knees, I have a slightly grabbing achilles and Maria had to ride on the higher and more resistant chain ring as she is suffering a clawed hand and it is too painful to operate the shifter.

Nick and I were the last to leave the hotel this morning and we rode with Andy so that he was not left alone in the mountains. Within 10 minutes his bike had mechanical problems and I had to re-index the gears for him. The morning was really stop-start after that. I had my first morning of feeling the miles in my legs. They just would not work properly and I found it a struggle to keep to the wheels of the fast group. At the morning water stop by the swirling river at Connel, I wolfed down 3 bananas and 2 energy bars and gradually felt better through the day, but it really was tough.

Photo by John

I did allow myself to get detached to take a photograph and then enjoyed a high-speed solo descent to Loch Awe where I caught the group. Being alone up on the Highlands was a wonderful sensation even if the other riders were only a couple of minutes ahead. The views throughout were spectacular but we just couldn't enjoy them. We took photos so we could enjoy the views later. We could get no rythm in our cycling and the pain from the chafing was considerable.

Castle Stalker at Loch Awe

A welcome stop was the Kirk of St. Conan, who apparently came to Scotland from Ireland on a flat piece of stone. I am  not sure his progress would have been any more difficult than ours today. The church was built in the 1870s and was a right mish-mash of German Gothic and Arts and Crafts, but its setting was extremely romantic and peaceful.

Kirk of St. Conan

We were mildly amused (which was as amused as we got all morning) by Lochaber having trademarked its claim to being Outdoor Activity Capital of the UK and were quite excited to see the first road signs for Inverness giving us some impression of how far north we have come. There was also a nice moment when John nearly missed his lunch (which would not have been pretty) because he was drafting behind a bus and went straight past the stop.

Lunch at Ballacuillish was a more sombre affair than usual. Nick did try some Cossack dancing on tired legs and is still breathing a sigh of relief that he did not injure himself and have a very embarrassing confession to make to all his sponsors. But a circle of glum faces laboured through cold meats and salads (again) and the wisecracking was kept to a minimum.

The road surfaces in Scotland have been extremely variable. Today we had some shockers, the worst of which turned our bikes into bone-shakers as we approached a long set of roadworks where we had to be taken through in convoy to protect the workers. We cyclists were allowed through first and had the strange experience of being behind the truck that was finishing the road in front of us. It reminded us of the scene in Wallace and Gromit where the train tracks are laid as the train runs along.

Matt negotiates the roadworks

We called in at Fort William briefly, so John could get some new lights, and then we headed on towards the last water stop, a penitential ride into screaming winds. I was feeling stronger this afternoon and did most of the point work but we alternated a lot to share the load. This last water stop was at the Commando memorial just after Spean Bridge. I liked this statue a lot, particularly its striking position high up over the landscape. This is where the special forces trained during World War II, a cold, rugged landscape that bred tough men (but they didn't have to deal with chafing).

The Commando Memorial at Spean Bridge

The windiest water stop in Britain: Spean Bridge

The only thing that really amused me today was a rather harsh lesson I received in choosing battles carefully. One of the more extraordinary cyclists in the group is Matt, a corporate lawyer from London. His partner Lizzie is on the ride too. Matt only decided to join her 3 weeks ago but has ridden every mile very strongly. Matt has a large build. He used to play No. 8 for the England Schools Rugby team. The technical term for him is "A Big Unit". The non-technical term is "The Flying Arse". He finds the uphills a bit of a struggle, but you take him on down hill at your peril. So fast does he roll down hills that when he is wearing his bright yellow lycra, his enormous muscular buttocks look like the setting sun as they disappear into the distance. So, guess what I tried to do?

I wonder which one's Matt ...

It was a nice long hill and Matt had begun his roll. I timed my run perfectly to pass him at top speed, while he was still rolling. I was doing about 40 mph as I went by and from behind me I heard him say, "Ooh Hello". Within 10 seconds I was hit by the most extraordinary backdraft as he shot past like a cannon ball. It made an odd sound, not a whoosh but a deep whump, and I didn't see him for another 3 minutes (until we came to an uphill). I'll know better next time.

Exhausted and a little wiser after my downhill race

So, it is the end of by far the toughest day so far. Tomorrow promises to be even worse as the forecast is for heavy rain and high winds all day. We will pass Loch Ness tomorrow and then turn left and up the largest hill of the whole trip. The mood is all a bit serious. As I write this in the common room of the youth hostel we are staying in at South Laggan, a remote and wild spot at the end of Loch Lochy, I ask Nick, "Come on Nick. What was funny today that can go in the blog?", and he replies, "Well, most of it wasn't funny at all."

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Post-script from yesterday ...

Alicia,
How about this for a Millionaire's Shortbread?
A

Largs has a silly name but an excellent cake shop