Day 12 Thurso to John O'Groats - in memory of Marius McKee (9/8/54 to 22/6/13)

This is my last blog and a blogger's reflection on completion of the trip.

We left Thurso, undertaking the final 23 miles to John O'Groats via Dunnet Head, the most northerly point on the UK mainland (John O'Groats is the most north-easterly point).

After experiencing fine views above the lighthouse of Dunnet Head, we cycled on to the finish, congregating for coffee then cycling to our final destination en masse.

We crossed the finish line, toasted with bubbly, hugged and photographed.

So many on our trip have impressed me hugely. Alistair, age 65, took up cycling recently, lost four stone and crossed the finish unscathed and triumphant. Sadly, his friend who joined him for just two miles in support of Alistair's trip, had crashed from a misplaced drain cover and sustained significant facial and dental injuries.

Maria and Lizzie bought their bikes in March, trained hard over 6 months and despite big worries each morning, grew in confidence and were fine cyclists by the end.

Tommy, having played a lot of football as a younger man, had ceased exercise for 8 years. This April, he started cycling, gave up alcohol, changed his diet and trained hard, losing a couple of stone and at one point followed a peloton travelling at 20mph for over an hour.

Craig, one of our strongest cyclists, completely transformed himself. A wedding photo in June 2012 (centre) shows him unfit and 15.5 stone.

After 16 months he'd given up alcohol, undertaken multiple cycle challenges and lost 4 stone (BMI falling from 36.1 to 26.8 ie 'very obese' to normal). Despite my years of training I was completely unable to keep up with him.

Ian, one of our guides, met an older cyclist out on his day's trip whilst we were drinking coffee (see fine Art Deco café in background). This 82 year old man cycles 40 miles a day.


















Given the immensity of the trip, please allow this final narrative indulgence!

I commend you to ride! It has everything - exercise, fine landscapes, time with friends (old and new), chance for reflection and the opportunity to set a challenge if so wished. I believe this is one way to live life to its fullest. My friend Marius died of stomach cancer this June, leaving behind two lovely daughters, his partner, Sara, family and many, many friends. He was a very able musician, singer/song writer, thoughtful, down to earth, capable of a 'testy' debate, an excellent father and helpful friend. He also personified living life to the full, successfully combining parenthood, work, friendship and a productive musical career.

During our trip, huge lorries rumbled close to our wheels. Alistair's friend was thrown from his bike from a misplaced drain cover, resulting in loss of teeth and a possible fracture. Marius, so full of life, died prematurely. Life is so impermanent and the time allotted unknown. For me, this trip is a metaphor to seize opportunity. Whatever is on your 'bucket list', do it! Whatever your personal goal, strive for it. Of course we must remain mindful to all aspects of our lives. Kathy, my wife, has been immensely tolerant, having been a cycle widow for many months and exercise widow for longer. Perhaps my sense of balance has been a little awry at times! However, with balanced effort, pursue your passion!

Day 11 Tain to Thurso - the End of the World (88.2 miles)

Weird but wonderful day. We were all a bit demob happy. Our departure was prompt, leaving the Royal Burgh of Tain (home of Glenmorangie Distillery) to hug the coast. However, within minutes of departing we crossed Dornoch Firth via an elongated causeway. We stopped and stopped again, in awe, trying in vain to capture the evanescent water and skyscape. This somehow altered the rhythm of day. Instead of pressing on, groups found reasons to pause for a photo or simply to look or chat.

A very early coffee stop at Poppy's. The owner (man in centre of photo) told me of the unpopularity of Lord Stafford who married the Duchess of Sutherland to inherit the surrounding lands. He was said to be part of the forcible eviction of crofters for 'improvements' to allow more extensive sheep farming. Stafford, now Lord Sutherland, lived at Dunrobin Castle at Golspie.

He built the hillside monument seen in the photo.

For over a century, the locals have wanted to knock it down, including the father of our coffee stop owner. However, the castle and falconry have attracted over 90,000 tourists this summer. Ironically, the dispossession of the locals in the early 19th century has led to shared local wealth in the 21st.

We hugged the east coast passing through names such as Brora, Dalchalm, Lothmore and Culgower.

At Helmsdale, previously known for herring fishing, we stopped for coffee again. Unheard of to do this twice in the morning! We had an 88 mile bike ride to complete. However, a chain broke, others had missed the first coffee and the sun was shining. It was our last full day and we were savouring it.

We turned inland on a very narrow single lane road, punctuated with passing places for the rare vehicle. Bizarrely this lane was rated as the A897. The route headed north along the River Helmsdale through what can only be described as a heavenly realm.

Graduated hills were matted with alternating moorland, pastures and pine forest. Pristine sheep abounded. The river meandered, twisting to and fro, oxbowing it's course to the sea. Sunlight came and went, dappling our vista with deep greens and coppery browns.

We held a final al fresco lunch with van, gazebo and food layer out picnic style. Following a long but gentle climb, leaving Strath Kildonan we descended over the watershed divide and followed the River Halladale which flowed northwards towards our destination. The last of the bright sun departed and most of our afternoon was overcast but dry.

For many of us, it was a late lunch. Still 35 miles to go and although jubilant, most of us were weary and the pace was only modest. By late afternoon we finally emerged back on a busier road and the very north of the country. Wanting it to feel like the end of the world, I was disappointed as the Orkneys were easily within view. However, it certainly had the feel of arriving at the north end of our country and 'the beginning of the end' of our journey.

It's hard for me to describe the intimacy developed by sharing such a trip with 20 other cyclists. We know each other, yet don't.

Even now conversations penetrate deeper, sometimes of previous marriages, problems with children, issues at work. All of us have arrived, thus far, unscathed (27 miles tomorrow via Dunnet Head). Each has raised a substantial amount for charity, greater than £90,000, each organisation representing deep importance for the cyclist.

Tomorrow, we celebrate. But for now, please think of those charities (and give if you want). In no special order:

Mencap
Alzheimer's
I can - the children's communication charity
CF Trust
Adoption UK
British Heart foundation
Brain tumour
Breast Cancer Care
The Clatterbridge Cancer Charity
Calvert Trust (kids with learning difficulties in sport)
Operation mobilisation (Christian-based, supporting ex-untouchables in India)
Zoë's Place, Middlesbrough (children's hospice)

Statistics
Distance: 88.2 miles
Riding time: 6:37
Climbing: 1050m (descending 1027)
Ave speed 13.2 mph (moving speed faster - failure of auto pause!), max speed 35.8 mph
Road kill: hedgehog, buzzard, game bird ?which
High point: sharing the beauty and cameraderie of this trip
Low point: I've never made it to bed before 12:30 am in writing this blog, often later!

Day 10. South Laggan to Tain - bad weather and kit failure (75.2 miles)

Our accommodation was hostel-style based in South Laggan. It was now privately owned but ran in formal YHA style with self clear and a morning clean.

The wardens had previously worked for the Scottish YHA, but the building had been sold off five years previously, along with several other hostels. Fortunately, a local builder had bought it and kept the family on as wardens (losing their livelihood would also have resulted in loss of home).

No such reprieve from the weather today. Record levels of rainfall over Loch Lochy (3" just over the morning). It poured whilst we slept on in our dormitory bunks. Despite a fear of the deluge reaching biblical proportions, we headed out, a long line of brilliant yellow 'fluoro' waterproofs and flashing red lights.

Many had procured costly waterproof gloves and similar weather-proof amulets. But to no avail. The roads were awash. Miniature rivulets swept across the roads in curious rhythmic waves. Gloves and special booties with inner sealskin socks were no match for the torrent.

Leaving Loch Lochy, Loch Oich and crossing the Caledonian Canal, we joined the south end of Loch Ness at Fort Augustus. The canal and lochs follow a geological fault line, Great Glen. The addition of the 60 mile canal in 1822 added a final connection between east (Inverness) and west (near Fort William). This represented a move to improve social and economic cohesion in the highlands, following the punitive Highland Clearances (a ban against wearing tartan, playing the bagpipes and speaking Gaelic in order to break the clan system).

The road along Loch Ness reminded me that they do a marathon here. There's a thought!

We passed Urquhart Castle onto to Drumnadrochit for a pit stop prior to Heartbreak Hill, the steepest of the trip. One of our party, Tom, is a super fit cyclist who lives nearby in Beauly. He's attempted the 750' steep ascent (18% in places and relentless). On the two previous occasions he had to get off and walk. We brace ourselves, some with heart rate monitors, others happy to walk. Each in our own way we ascend to fine peaty moorland and then drop down for coffee and cake in a Beauly Deli, soggy and dripping. Our host seems very chilled despite turning her floor into a miniature loch.

Onto lunch in a leisure centre in Dingwall. A swapping and re-swapping of attire, layering up below jackets, ringing out of gloves, adding or subtracting waterproof trousers, all depending on the individual fancy of the rider. We depart, hitting a particularly steep and unwelcome climb, muscles having cooled down and stomachs weighted with pasta. However, the high road bypasses the unpleasant A9 and forms part of the National Cycle Route 1. We traverse farmland, autumnal forest with mixed deciduous woodland. To the right are sweeping views of Cromarty Firth.

Whilst knees and bruises have improved, kit is less reliable. Another puncture, waterproofs not waterproof, Garmin sat nav cycle computers misbehaving, rechargeable lights running down too quickly, other lights and cycle computers falling off and, at worst, bikes requiring serious mechanical support and replacement in one case. We weather these problems, accept the malfunction and make do.

My 'all singing all dancing' Garmin Edge 800 reads speed, distance, heart rate, elevation, shows sat nav maps, a navigational line for each day and screeches like an irate cicada when off course. It give innumerable other pieces of data, allows recording of new routes and posting on the web or by email for future riders. However, it is very imperfect. Spontaneously, it reverts to an auto pause mode when cycling, turns off the satellite link and can be skittish over the route. Thus, some of my data has been estimated from other devices and my speed is an underestimate. Not good for those on the spectrum!

Worst of all has been my Funkier non-carbon bib shorts bought on the way. Never trust a brand with a name like Funkier. The seat area has an unnecessary cobbled construction not conforming with any perineal anatomy of which I am aware. The inside 'hem' is rubberised similar to better brands. However, Funkier take it a step further by heavily embossing their name, leaving a painful impregnated 'K' in my thigh. I would like to rename the brand (you decide), shred the shorts and drop the remnants in Mount Doom. Last full day tomorrow, bodies coping, kit as it comes.

Statistics
Distance: 75.2 miles
Riding time: 5:44
Climbing: 895m (descending 916)
Ave speed 13.1 mph, max speed 35.4 mph
Road kill: hedgehog, goose, badger
High point: stunning back roads through moorland, farms and autumnal mixed deciduous woodland above Drumnadrochit and Dingwall
Low point: overwhelmed by exhaustion after the ice water bath

Day 9 Inveraray to South Laggan - anticipating rain (92 miles)

Rain and high winds forecast for the whole plus a 7 mile climb out of Inveraray - less appealing. However, we've
had virtually dry weather bar a single afternoon descending from Dartmoor. The temperature has been mild, sunny often and the winds low. Therefore, bad weather over the final 3 days is understood and we are left with a feeling of 'haven't we been lucky'. Today, winds will gust up to 35mph and my smart phone shows the weeping cloud icon of significant precipitation.

We prepare for departure from Inveraray to north of Fort William and Ben Nevis. We've donned 'technical' clothes not yet seen on the trip. The weather is dark and moody (apologies for the cliché, but we all say the same). Intermittent, ploppy rain drops issue from above, threatening something greater. We ascend north, climbing steadily through Glen Array passing Tullich and Cladich, viewing Kilchurn Castle and Loch Awe to the west.

Pockets of light stream through an occasional gap in the firmament. Although the road is wet, the rain doesn't come. There are further bike and limb problems - a derailleur doesn't work, spokes rub against part of the chain mechanism, knees are fragile and some very sore.

The clouds loom over the East, a menacing threat from Mordor.

Unlike previous days, we depart in dribs and drabs. Lone cyclists, far from company, ascend steadily. I stop and start frequently, taking the opportunity to capture shots in preparation of the blog. Others visit a church. The pace is possibly too slow given our predicted 95 miles in high winds. We stop at Connel bridge 34 miles along the route. It's a bit late (11:30), still 33 miles to lunch. I delay further trying to use a pub's WiFi and find myself at the back.

There's a strange psychological tension between cycling alone and with others. The former allows a self-selected pace and photo stops, but 'drafting' (the slipstream effect behind a cyclist) is not possible. Also, no company or support should you have a puncture or injury. I opt for the 'Lone Ranger' approach. The surrounding mountains and lochs are outstanding - Ben Cruachan, Ballachulan and Nevis; Lochs Etive, Creran, Linnhe and Lochy. The rain holds off, winds modest only and some fleeting sunshine.

At some point I find myself 20 miles from lunch and it's late. I increase my pace expecting to catch the slower group, collectively nursing injuries, bike and bone. But I can't catch them. Am I tearing along a wrong route. A previous deviation that morning led me into someone's orchard. One of the things I've learnt on this trip is "just keep on cycling." Profound indeed! Lunch is found. Still no rain.

In the afternoon I cycle with friends at a speedy but manageable pace through Fort William and onto Loch Lochy, our destination. The wind picks up. By the time we reach the Commando Memorial at Spean Bridge, we are buffeted about, making even cycling downhill difficult. However, instead of rain, the sun emerges and we amble into our accommodation.

This night, dorms in a hostel and fine curry prepared by our lead guide Jen. So far, the travel spirits have warded of the rain. Not tomorrow I fear. We face our longest and steepest climb of the trip tomorrow. after our first stop we climb for 3 miles, leaving Loch Ness and Drumnadrochit. The map reports a steep gradient throughout! No doubt, the technical kit will emerge tomorrow morning also.



Statistics
Distance: 92 miles
Riding time: 6:35
Climbing: 1119m (descending 1152m)
Ave speed 13.9mph (max ave 41.4 mph), ave heart rate 100bpm (max 127bpm)
Road kill: hedgehog, unidentifiable corpse
High point: Travelling at own pace to savour the Highlands and stop at will
Low point: Feeling uneasy about cycling alone