Wednesday 1 April 2009

Wednesday 13th August – JOGLE Day 3: Drumnadrochit to Glencoe. 66 miles travelled.







Where Our Narrator Just Can’t Eat Enough, His Partner In Crime Soldiers On, And It Turns Out To Be A Day Of Two Halves.

Day 3 was new territory for us – we had never before cycled for three days solidly, and after our first 10 mile stretch we would be riding further than we had ever been before. Ray’s thigh was still causing him pain, and I was getting incredibly sore from sitting in the saddle for so long. The weather was inclement (although we appeared to be missing the Severe Weather that was sweeping the rest of the UK) and it just felt tough to get back on the bikes and carry on.

Breakfast was a quiet affair trying not to slap our French cousins for their noisiness last night as they came in to eat, and we removed ourselves to a quieter second kitchen area that no one was using.

The Manly Steed was positively ecstatic to be untethered, and I gave it a quick look over to check that everything was still in working order. We pumped the tires a little, climbed into our still wet cycle gear, and then Ray and I ventured forth once more, turning left onto the A82 towards Urqhart Castle and Loch Ness itself.

On a map the A82 alongside Loch Ness appears flat, and you would imagine that there wouldn’t be too many ups and downs. Well – we imagined that to be the case.

Sadly for us, the road has been hacked out of the cliff, and was by turns steep and uncomfortable, or uncomfortably steep. With our energy low anyway and feeling tired after only a few miles, this was not on the list of things that would make us happy, but we fought our way on to Invermoriston and stopped for a hot cup of vegetable soup and a couple of sandwiches from the local town hall.

Loch Ness is beautiful. You can imagine why people would believe that there is a monster as it is enormous and incredibly atmospheric, and I was sure that I saw something swimming in the murky waters... or did I...?

If I may mention a word about road surfaces at this point: when on a mountain bike with wheels and a frame set up to absorb vibrations and constant jarring, pedalling over badly surfaced roads is fine. In fact it’s quite normal, comfortable, and it isn’t a mountain so the bike isn’t fazed at all.
A road bike with wheels at 90psi on a badly surfaced road is a different kettle of saddle sores entirely. You feel everything, and by then I was finding it painful, and regardless of my love for the Manly Steed I was wondering if the combination of bad road surface and unforgiving saddle might actually do me in.

I was constantly hungry as well, and both Ray and I were becoming tired of the taste of the Cliff bars that were our staple high energy food. After a while, they all taste the same.

Now it might sound like I’m complaining, and frankly, I am. This was a very tough morning where we just didn’t seem to be able get into our rhythm, and there is only one road to where we wanted to get to so we couldn’t even detour.

We reached Fort Augustus and stopped for a breather, a manly stretch by the side of the road, and to take some photos of the locks (not lochs). From there, we carried on ever southward past Loch Uanagan and Loch Oich, riding through The Great Glen with mountains rearing up a thousand feet on either side in an unbroken line. The one thing which will remind me of our ride on this leg is the smell of bracken in the undergrowth at the side of the road. It was a constant, wet green and earthy smell (if that makes any sense) which made even the fumes from the passing lorries carrying 40 foot cut logs smell fresh.

We were stopped by the side of the road in a small car park having a break and pretending to examine the local flora (while actually peeing in a ditch) when Mark pedalled in on his recumbent. He was finding it fun / tough but because he was basically sat on a chair rather than a saddle he didn’t have the same soreness I did, although he had struggled on the hills as it was difficult to dig in because of the seating position. Also, his gearing was screwed and he had already been to a bike shop to get it fixed. We chatted for a while, and then left Mark to make a phone call and carried on our way.

The road then climbed a bit and crossed the Caledonian Canal, and we were beside Loch Lochy and within striking distance of Spean Bridge where we were to meet the guys for lunch. We arrived at 14:10 and were hailed from a white pub at the side of the road by Mike, whereupon we pulled off and checked our milometers. We had managed 40 miles, and broken the back of the day’s riding, but it had still hurt enormously, and I had struggled for a lot of it. Still – The Great Glen is immense, and to have ridden through it was phenomenal.

It was at lunch that I struck on what turned out to be a winning combination: Mashed Potato, with some sort of burger in a bun. A pint of coke, and a coffee. Also, some electrolyte replacements – we were drinking Diarolyte blackcurrant which wasn’t too bad when you are thirsty. This combo became my stock lunch for days to come as the mash and bread gave me carbs, the burger some protein and fat, and the coke and coffee gave me sugar and caffeine.
As we finished lunch and sat back, it was reassuring to know that we had 25 miles left for the day. The sun came out, and with food in my stomach and sugar coursing through my veins, I felt quite the new man!! Having Hannah giving me a shoulder rub helped somewhat as well...

We headed on at about 15:15 having had a chat with a chap in the pub who cycles into Fort William and he told us that it was straight forward from there on in, and that there was even a cycle path in good condition if we didn’t mind losing a bit of speed. After we had left, Mike and Hannah got into the car, and were just leaving when the publican came running out in front of them (no mean feat – he looked bout 90!!). We had forgotten to pay, and even Mike flashing him the secret pub landlord hand signal wouldn’t calm him down. It was all smoothed over as they paid and screeched off in cloud of burnt rubber.

Both Ray and I were feeling strong as the sun beat down on us, warming the morning’s damp from our souls as we pedalled our way through the beautiful countryside towards Fort William. The Manly Steed sparkled in the sunshine, and laughingly ate up the miles, no doubt calling to its smaller counterpart as we coasted down hills, as Ben Nevis came spectacularly into sight on our left through a break in the trees, and we stopped to snap some photos. From there on we passed the Ben Nevis Distillery, and pedalled past the McDonalds where we had stopped for lunch 4 days previously.

After a brief stop on the shores of Loch Linnhe for a photo and some drink, we headed ever southwards with the loch on our right glinting with diamonds of sunlight, and pulled over after another five miles or so to get a few more shots of the beautiful weather and scenery. Mike and Han pulled in and chivvied us to get back on the bikes and head south, and so we obliged by climbing somewhat wearily back into harness, and carried on towards Ballachulish. We crossed the bridge and turned left following signs to Glencoe village, and found our way to Dunire guesthouse where we unloaded our gear, and took a welcome shower.

Dinner that night was at the Clachaig Inn where we watched the sun setting on the mountains that reared up around us, and was washed down by some fantastic local ale, although it proved a challenge not to be dinner for the midges which decided that they would pay us a visit as soon as we stepped out of our car.

I made the nightly call to my parents letting them know that I was still alive, and sent out the text to all and sundry receiving back words of support from friends way too clever to have done this with me.

I had a fine dinner of sausage and mash with some haggis, and then we returned to the car and wended our way back to our guesthouse. My cycle gear was drying nicely on the radiator, and Han and I crept into bed at the princely time of 21:45.

The forecast was for good weather the next day, and I lay awake praying that this would be so as we had 1144 feet of vertical climbing over a 10 mile stretch to cover first thing in the day.
The bed was comfortable, the sheets were soft and clean, and I fell asleep exhausted but excited about what we had achieved so far – 198.5 miles in three days.

Once more the alarm woke me from my slumber at 07:30, and Day Four was upon us.

The sun was shining from a clear blue sky, and I could almost hear the Manly Steed calling to me from the garage where it had been tethered overnight.

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