Decent breakfast and off at 9.30, with a short 43 mile day ahead. Hoiked our bikes over a scaffolding covered bridge then straight into a 2 mile climb, eating our breakfasts twice!
Good mornings riding through Lairg and up onto a single track road for another 20 miles or so through some of the most open, midge infested terrain we'd seen. Had to keep riding whilst eating as the little swine were all over you in seconds if you stopped. Scottish opening times (11 - 3!) on a Sunday meant we had to dig deep into the bags for cereal bars, with peanut butter sandwiches for lunch.
Beautiful views during the ride up into the mountains and Lochs around Ben Loyal, some of the most spectacular and memorable of the trip, before we turned a final corner and saw the estuary at Tongue - and the Atlantic Ocean. Quite a feeling to know we'd made it so far.
Great and highly recommended YH run by a Danish lady called Hanna, who supplied us with free tea and big slices of home made cake at 50p a shot. having arrived early at 3.30, we then fell asleep like a pair of old codgers in the lounge, waking at 6.20 in time to race uphill to the local for
the most scanty, yet expensive fish and chips we'd ever eaten. Nouvelle cuisine in Tongue means five big chips in a little pile waving across the plate their good friend the haddock.
Mike was waylaid in the dorm by a lycra clad 72 year old who warned him about the frightening 'Bettyhill' up and down hill stretch next day, whilst towelling his back and displaying his pendulous, walnut-like wares. You don't get them in Halfords. Scarier than most of the hills we encountered next day for sure.
Good craic later that night with a mixed group of european bikers and travellers, all of whom responded in the usual way to James's opening conversational gambit of: " So.....does anybody like the English?" Pablo, pictured under day 15, tells me that the reason the English aren't keen on French rock music is because we're basically ignorant. When I ask him if he's got anyone on a par with the Beatles, the Stones or even Coldplay whom I need to be made aware of, he mutters that I'm talking too fast and can't understand the question...
Incredibly, the two ladies we bumped into so much along the way decided to finish their LEJOG today, with a 5 O'clock start, picnics provided by the YH and a distance of 110 miles! All so that they could have 'an extra day's pampering' in Edinburgh. I received a very excited call at around 11 that night to say they'd made it in one piece. Considering the problems they'd had with energy crashes, getting lost, swollen hands and dodgy bikes and dodgier knees it was really something special. We, on the other hand, are more than happy to wuss it out with a nice short 43 today followed by a 60 odd tommorow...
Good mornings riding through Lairg and up onto a single track road for another 20 miles or so through some of the most open, midge infested terrain we'd seen. Had to keep riding whilst eating as the little swine were all over you in seconds if you stopped. Scottish opening times (11 - 3!) on a Sunday meant we had to dig deep into the bags for cereal bars, with peanut butter sandwiches for lunch.
Beautiful views during the ride up into the mountains and Lochs around Ben Loyal, some of the most spectacular and memorable of the trip, before we turned a final corner and saw the estuary at Tongue - and the Atlantic Ocean. Quite a feeling to know we'd made it so far.
Great and highly recommended YH run by a Danish lady called Hanna, who supplied us with free tea and big slices of home made cake at 50p a shot. having arrived early at 3.30, we then fell asleep like a pair of old codgers in the lounge, waking at 6.20 in time to race uphill to the local for
the most scanty, yet expensive fish and chips we'd ever eaten. Nouvelle cuisine in Tongue means five big chips in a little pile waving across the plate their good friend the haddock.
Mike was waylaid in the dorm by a lycra clad 72 year old who warned him about the frightening 'Bettyhill' up and down hill stretch next day, whilst towelling his back and displaying his pendulous, walnut-like wares. You don't get them in Halfords. Scarier than most of the hills we encountered next day for sure.
Good craic later that night with a mixed group of european bikers and travellers, all of whom responded in the usual way to James's opening conversational gambit of: " So.....does anybody like the English?" Pablo, pictured under day 15, tells me that the reason the English aren't keen on French rock music is because we're basically ignorant. When I ask him if he's got anyone on a par with the Beatles, the Stones or even Coldplay whom I need to be made aware of, he mutters that I'm talking too fast and can't understand the question...
Incredibly, the two ladies we bumped into so much along the way decided to finish their LEJOG today, with a 5 O'clock start, picnics provided by the YH and a distance of 110 miles! All so that they could have 'an extra day's pampering' in Edinburgh. I received a very excited call at around 11 that night to say they'd made it in one piece. Considering the problems they'd had with energy crashes, getting lost, swollen hands and dodgy bikes and dodgier knees it was really something special. We, on the other hand, are more than happy to wuss it out with a nice short 43 today followed by a 60 odd tommorow...
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