Our stay last night in Cuilcheanna House in Onich was perfect. The house is right at the head of the loch, so the tantalising approach was worth it, as we had views down the loch from our rooms (well, Clare and Matt did). The house was beautifully set up and the family running it were really accommodating and friendly. Supper was a little different to previous nights, as we were recommended a pub a short drive down the road, and it turned out to be attached to the local outdoor activity centre, and so was heaving with lots of active-looking people in full cheer. This made a difference from some of the quieter places we've eaten in previously.
Breakfast was a feast - with a wicked fruit and yoghurt mixture (a compote?) followed by cooked (Matt and James going for scrambled egg and smoked salmon). Unfortunately, time was pressing, and we had to head out into the rain en route for Tain. As we were leaving, Kirstie (or was it Mary?) pressed £20 into James's hand 'for the pot' - another unexpected and very welcome donation.
Today Cathy and Clare had plans too, as they were heading off to walk up Ben Nevis - so we were all aiming to leave smartish. The cyclists finally got on the road at 0845, with 112 miles in prospect - followed shortly by the girls in the car.
Unfortunately, the rain didn't let up, and as we headed up through Fort William, past Loch Lochy (yes, really) and towards the head of Loch Oich, it became torrential. We were all wearing over-the-knee shorts (James in full leggings) and heavier duty jackets but we were soon soaked. At one point the rain was so heavy that James had call an emergency stop as he couldn't see where he was going because it had run down behind his cycling glasses so hard that both eyes were full of water. However, salvation was to hand. We had already passed a posh looking hotel at Invergarry, but had surmised that three dripping cyclists would not be welcome. Matt advised that when in this situation before, he usually headed for the nearest McDonalds, as they have plastic seats. This was not to be an option. Salvation appeared in the form of the Thistle Cafe, where we had huge hot chocolates and two rounds each of cakes and scones (James choosing the treacle scones because they looked the most unhealthy). The proprietor reassured us that there would be eateries at Drumnadochit on Loch Ness - a good 30 miles further down track - "Because that's where the Nessie centre is".
A few miles down the road, James realised that he had a drinking problem. He'd already had to munch Ibuprofen while pedalling up the first hill (mustn't let the troops down by stopping), and had found that his left knee only stopped hurting if he cycled very smoothly. Smoothly meant not stopping/restarting and not moving the knee out of line while cycling. The problem was that to get the drink bottle out of the holder with his left hand, he needed to move his left knee out of line. Agony. Solution - use right hand. Yes, this what a degree education does for you. The problem was then that he now had reduced strength in his right hand due, probably to a compressed nerve or something from the last 8 days of cycling, so couldn't squeeze the bottle! Life gets complicated, sometimes. Sorry if this is James-centric, but he's writing this blog.
Luckily the rain soon stopped and we were treated to glimpses of the mountains around, and patches of sunshine lighting up the Caledonian Canal - which we crossed several times, over the still-active swing bridges. We finally arrived at Drumnadochit, and got food at the Nessie Pub (where else?). As we entered the pub, we got chatting to a local, Willie McKenzie, who donated £5 to the ride when he heard that we were raising money for H4H - which was really kind. He then asked where we were headed, and blurted out "Ah off to Beauly eh? You've got a bugger of a ... I meant there's a bit of a hill out of town going that way".
It was a bugger of a hill. 15% for 3/4 mile. We'd done 25% in Monmouthshire, but this was worse - especially straight after lunch. We all had to stop for a rest - James because he thought lunch was going to reappear, and Matt because he thought his lungs were going to explode! We finally made it to the top, and were treated with an even longer (i.e. less steep) downhill the other side. From then on the country rapidly changed from moorland and hills to farmland, and we were at the East coast of Scotland. We had traversed the country.
Due to the continued presence of the Cromarty Ferry at a boatyard in Southampton, we had to take the mile-long bridge across the Cromarty Firth, and then head up the A9. The A9 was very busy, and was to lead all the way to Tain. Luckily James, on checking the printed maps, spotted a cycle path (in fact Sustrans Cycle Trail Number 1) which took us through the forest - cutting the corner and obviating the need for the A9.
At this point, we were made aware of a logistical problem. Cathy and Clare were still en route, and were due to arrive at 1840 according to the car satnav. This gave us both a problem (no clean clothes) and a challenge - beat the girls to the B&B. At 1802 a quick mental calculation by James estimated (based on 15mph - i.e. a mile every 4 minutes) that we'd arrive between 1818 and 1820. It was to be 1818 and victory to the cyclists!
Interestingly, there now seems to be a thriving drugs trade in the team, as Cathy (the pharmacist) has run out, and is blagging pills off James. Still, most aches and pains were eased by a good meal tonight!
Tomorrow, it's the last day. Not sure about the team's feelings on this. On the one hand, it's a pity it's coming to an end. On the other, it's the end of a relentless 9 days of at least 8 hours in the saddle, finishing around 7pm each evening, with the need to be up at 0630 the next day.
Statistics For Day:
Miles covered: 108
Mountains climbed (by Cathy and Clare): 1
Monsters spotted: 0
Puddings/cakes eaten: too many
No comments:
Post a Comment