Tag Archives: outdoors

Leg 45 – to Lochgilphead

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15 June 2013

It was still raining when I woke up, and pretty hard judging by the sound of water hitting the canvas, so I decided to stay in my tent a bit longer and work on a blog post. The rain surely had to stop at some point, and I wanted a dry patch to pack up in, plus to check my rear wheel. I decided I’d definitely find a campsite tonight, to hopefully dry some stuff out. In the meantime there was no point in getting more stuff wet, so I’d wear my still damp kit which I reasoned might act a bit like a wetsuit (didn’t entirely work out as planned).

It didn’t stop raining, so I packed up about 10.00 rapidly getting wet again in the process. My tent was soaked, although it had been dry inside; I’d need to dry it out somehow in the evening as there was no way it was getting any dryer in the hills above Southend.

Bike maintenance in the rain

Bike maintenance in the rain


I did a quick check of my bike wheels and spokes, adjusting a few, before loading up and setting off down the hill. Everywhere was waterlogged, including the short track I’d walked down yesterday evening. I had to hop about a bit trying to stay on non-submerged areas to get back to the road, which had streams of water running down it. I’m not sure why I bothered trying to keep my feet out of the water, my shoes were still soaked from yesterday.

Very wet countryside

Very wet countryside


 

Damp but still smiling

Damp but still smiling


I rode around the coast towards Campbeltown, in the rain and attempting to dodge the worst of the waterlogged potholes – you can’t see how bad they are when they’re full of water. At least I had a tailwind which helped up some of the hills. I was a bit concerned a couple of times that the road was going to be underwater at the bottom of some of the descents, or simply washed away. The streams that had yesterday been small babbling brooks were now raging torrents, angrily rushing down the hills and crashing into the sea. Amazing how the landscape can change so quickly and violently.

Countryside inspiring despite the weather

Countryside inspiring despite the weather


 

Rain still coming down

Rain still coming down on the road to Campbeltown


 

Is it a road or a river?

Is it a road or a river?


I rode up another hill past a field full of bullocks standing stoically in the rain. They spotted me and did their usual trick of following alongside for a bit on the other side of the fence, at quite a pace. Have any other cyclists encountered this phenomenon or is it just me? Maybe I have panniers that are particularly attractive, or offensive, in the bovine world; I don’t want to find out which it is.

I rode around the point and into Campbeltown after about an hours ‘paddling’, thoroughly soaked, past Davaar Island.

Approaching Campbeltown, isle just off the coast

Approaching Campbeltown, Davaar isle just off the coast


Dripping everywhere I stopped in at the Bluebell Cafe and had their breakfast special, which improved matters considerably – bacon, eggs, Lorne sausage, black pudding, beams, potato pancake and toast! Friendly staff, hot food, and a chat with a few other breakfasters all helped, plus I rang my gloves and sleeves out in the bathroom, not for the first time, and I was sure it wouldn’t be the last.

Fry up at Bluebell Cafe

Fry up at Bluebell Cafe improves matters

Post the Bluebell Cafe it was still chucking it down so I adjourned to the Black Sheep Pub around the corner for a decaf coffee, in the vague hope the weather might improve and that I might dry off a bit. Slowly drying, or at least not getting any wetter, I stayed in the pub for about an hour chatting to the barman James, who with the weather as it was didn’t have a lot of tourists to serve. James was about to emigrate to the USA with his American wife, and in fact will be there now so hope it’s going well. It sounded like a pretty exciting lifestyle change, and the weather will certainly be a bit different, although we both reckoned it could be a bit of a culture shock to begin with. To move to the US he’d had to be sponsored by someone, in this case his father-in-law, and had to visit the US embassy to do all the paperwork; sounded like a bit of a trial but sure it’ll be worth it. It was good to relax for a bit and chat post my wild time in the hills, and the rain even stopped about 13.00.

Welcome break at the Black Sheep Pub, Campbeltown

Welcome break at the Black Sheep Pub, Campbeltown


Slightly drier I got back on my bike and left Campbeltown, keen to head back up the peninsula. I took the B842 up the east side, towards Carradale Point, as unfortunately the rain started again which made for pretty unpleasant riding. There was a lot of spray and mud on the road, and I was very glad of my mudguards having passed a couple riders grimly going the other way coated in muck. On a sunny day the scenery would have been great, and even in today’s conditions was impressive…and hilly…there weren’t really any flat bits, and there were lots of chevrons indicating steep sections, marked on my map.

One of several rivers I passed over, all swollen

One of several rivers I passed over, all swollen


 

Sun coming out over another river

Sun coming out over another river


 

Damp sheep, that'll learn them

Damp sheep, that’ll learn them


At one juncture I passed through a cattle farm and rounding a corner encountered a cow in the road, which had a steep bank on one side and vegetation on the other. It was either stop or run into it, so I ground to a halt as we regarded one another with suspicion. On reflection I think it was probably a bullock and not a cow, and it started frisking about a bit and pawing the ground. At this point of the day I really wasn’t in a retreating mood, and there was certainly no easy way around without backtracking for miles, so I tried to make myself bigger and edge forward, which has worked in the past…they usually back off. A bit of a stand-off ensued however eventually, after some more melodramatics on both of our parts, the bullock backed off into the bushes, leaving me somewhat relieved. I’m really not sure what I’d have done if it had charged or not moved, probably just kept the bike in between me and it, and maybe brandish a lobster in it’s general direction; or climb up a tree quick, which could have been tricky given the rain.

With the sun starting to come out, but it still raining, I rode on through Saddell and up to Carradale, over continuous hills. At least there was no chance of dehydration or overheating, and bananas were keeping me fuelled for the climbs. After Grogdale and Crossaig the rain finally stopped leaving me with just the hills to contend with, but I could deal with them, especially with the wind mostly behind me; mostly aside from when it’s a bit fickle and flows down off the hills swirling about a bit.

I met a group of 3 other cycle tourers at Crossaig, who were out for a weekend’s riding from Kilmarnock and on their way to Arran, intending to take the ferry from Claonaig. They’d set off from Campbeltown earlier only to have a chain break which had to be mended on the roadside. Luckily they’d had the tool for the job and were able to fix it – I was just glad that hadn’t happened to me, yet, however it reinforced the importance of checking your chain regularly and replacing it if it’s stretched too much. It was good to have a chat with fellow tourers, and I felt my spirits raised by the encounter.

With miles left to cover I bid them goodbye and cycled on, drying off a bit in the sunshine, and fervently petitioning the weather gods to keep the rain at bay.

Dry but still threatening

Dry but still threatening

At Claonaig I turned inland and rode over the top to Whitehouse and a familiar road, joining the A83 towards Tarbert. I passed a police radar gun speed trap and asked if I was in the clear after they aimed the device at me. They waved and encouraged me on which was nice.

Tarbert was a welcome and somewhat unexpected sight, being a lovely little harbour town, with lots of yachts moored up, and a yacht club, plus several cafes, pubs, shops and and hotels. I decided to stop for a break and raided my panniers for bread and cheese, and bought some tomatoes from the Co-op, having a nice conversation with an interested seagull and a few passing tourists wondering how far I was going.

Tarbert harbour

Tarbert harbour


Tarbert harbour and swans

Tarbert harbour and swans


Seagull friend, but he only wanted me for my cheese

Seagull friend, but he only wanted me for my cheese, so a short lived relationship


Tarbert harbour, large motor cruiser

Tarbert harbour, large motor cruiser


The sun came out properly in Tarbert and I started steaming gently, a bit odd but it made a pleasant change to have water going the other way. Somewhat reluctantly I left the town pedalling up the hill, and being passed by the police from earlier, who reliably informed me I was going very slowly at 7mph, thanks guys.

Blue skies at last

Blue skies at last

After a few initial ups and downs the road flattened out and I had a nice ride up to Ardrishaig, being able to engage my ‘mile eating’ pace for once, in a high gear with no interruptions. Enjoying the sunshine I stopped for a break at the end of the Crinan Canal, had a wander about and made a couple of phone calls. I walked out to the end of the pier, watching a fisherman cast for mackerel. He didn’t seem to be having much luck, but I spotted 3 gannets diving for fish who were having a better time of it. It was amazing to see them dive, and something I’d wanted to witness for ages.

Ardrishaig - end of Crinan Canal

Ardrishaig – end of Crinan Canal


Crinan Canal

Crinan Canal


Ardrishaig pier and lighthouse

Ardrishaig pier and lighthouse

Pushing on I rode up to Lochgilphead and found the campsite, relieved to see they accepted tents as well as caravans. Whilst I was happy to wild camp again if need be, it was really nice to have the prospect of a warm shower, and to dry some stuff off. Post checking-in I pitched my tent as the midges started to arrive, homing in like heat seeking nano-missiles. I applied Avon Skin so Soft and lit some incense, but neither seemed to make much difference, I just smelt a bit hippyish and my skin was more tender for the midges. I retreated to the shower and spent a while washing away the day’s grime, before arranging a few things to dry and heading into town to explore.

It being a Saturday evening it was fairly lively on the streets of Lochgilphead, with a lot of excitable youngsters out, and I have to admit I kept fairly quiet to avoid attracting attention to my Sassenach accent, although I’m sure it would have been fine.

Lochgilphead - looking down towards Saddell Water

Lochgilphead – looking down towards Saddell Water

I located the Argyll Arms which looked promising, and spent the evening their amongst a lot of lively locals, many of whom seemed intent on downing as many shots as possible, with varying results. I chatted to quite a few of them, and got a pint bought for me so all good. The jukebox was pumping out some classic rock tunes, as well as a few dodgy numbers that got several groups singing rather discordantly, but it was all entertaining and a friendly atmosphere.

The Argyll Inn

The Argyll Inn

After several pints I retreated back to the campsite, not noticing midges anymore, and funnily enough slept very well post the day’s 60 mile hilly leg. With any luck the weather would be better again tomorrow, for the ride around to Inveraray and beyond.

Leg 44 – to Campbell Town, Southend and the Mull of Kintyre

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I’m in the West Country now, so the blog is still very behind but will catch up as and when I have time. I’m doing some long legs to try and make it around to the Latitude Festival, which will be fun and near the end of my tour. I may link up with the cycle to Latitude event in London on 18 July, just talking to the organisers about it.

14 June 2013

To say that the 14 June 2013 won’t qualify in the top ten of my Bike around Britain touring days may be a bit of an understatement. It probably wouldn’t make the top 50, more likely the bottom 10 unfortunately.

I got up late, mostly because I overslept, and partially because when I did wake up it was raining and I did’t feel like getting out of my cosy tent. The rain eventually stopped, and my bladder dictated it was time to emerge into the wider world. As the toilet block next to the camping field was currently under construction, I had to make it to the other toilet block about a quarter of a mile away. I opted to take my bike, the bumpy ride not at all helping with the bladder situation. I did however notice that my rear wheel was rubbing against the brake pads, thus warranting attention.

Morning view from Port Ban campsite

Morning view from Port Ban campsite

When I got back from workmen had arrived to start doing more to the new toilet block. It will really be a blessing for campers when that’s finished. Unfortunately they started cutting tiles which rather shattered the peace of the beachfront campsite, not that there were any other campers around, but the buzzards were definitely vexed.

There followed about an hour of rear wheel fixing, which was pretty annoying seeing as it was new. I guess the weight of the panniers had worn it in quickly! Straightening out the buckle took a lot of patience and fine tuning of spokes, and a couple of times I nearly despaired at the worsening wiggle as I turned the wheel. I eventually got it into a satisfactory state, and also adjusted the brakes and gave everything a quick lube for good measure. I’ll need to check the rear wheel and spokes every morning I think, just to be on the safe side, and maybe get some advice from the next decent bike shop I pass; could be a while as not many shops, let alone bike shops, around here.

What is it about me and rear wheels? It’s not like I’m overloading the bike, and it’s balanced front and back. At least I’m getting lots of practice at spoke tuning and brake adjustment. Haven’t broken any spokes yet either, touch wood.

Bike finally loaded and ready to go

Bike finally loaded and ready to go

Everything packed and loaded, and slightly nervous about my spokes going ping, or being too loose on one side, I pedalled up to reception to pay for the night. £14.00 was a bit steep, and I was beginning to wish I’d just wild camped, however the staff were nice and a hot shower always welcome. I spent 30 minutes in their cafe before leaving, partaking of a warm beverage to recover from my stressful wheel straightening experience, and watching the buzzards fly about over the bluff.

Port Ban campsite

Port Ban campsite


On my way out of Kilberry I took a quick detour to see the sculpted medieval stones, which turned out to be very like the ones in Kilmartin, depicting medieval lords, or swords and suchlike.

Kilberry sculpted stones 1

Kilberry sculpted stones


At this point the weather was still alright, with a moderate but manageable southerly breeze.

Liked this house

Liked this house


From Kilberry I rode up West Loch Tarbert, through some nice countryside, seeing a couple of ferries heading out towards the islands; Caledonian Macbride ferries again. The minor road I was on (B8024) passed through woodland of beech, oak, ash, sycamore and pine – those were the species I could identify easily anyway. There were buttercups, bluebells and wild garlic growing alongside the road in abundance, the wild garlic giving off a splendid aroma.

Road to Tarbert

Road to Tarbert – top of a decent hill climb


I had to contend with several largish hills, which woke my legs up nicely, but reached Tarbert in good time. I didn’t actually go into the town, turning on to the A83 just beforehand for the 37 mile ride down to Campbeltown. I’d be back along this way shortly anyway, one of the joys of the Scottish coastline – Slartibartfast has a lot to answer for.

Heading south along the coast the sky grew overcast and rather threatening, with a steadily building headwind making it tough going. The sea looked angry with plenty of white horses, and waves crashing over the rocks in places. I passed through Whitehouse and on to Portachoillan, with the occasional period of sunshine brightening things up. It was however a hard slog into the headwind, especially up the frequent hills, and every mile was hard won. It reminded me of my first day on Orkney, where the wind had been challenging on the way to Kirkwall; If anything it was windier, and some of the gusts really caught my panniers and pushed me around.

Threatening skies, and ferry on its way

Threatening skies, and ferry on its way


I eventually made it down to Tayinloan, with the island of Gigha just off the coast. A ferry runs from Tayinloan to the small island, which is inhabited, probably by sheep for the most part. Don’t think there’s a distillery on it, unlike Islay and Jura which I could also see across the water. 

Llamas on patrol

Llamas on patrol

I met a group of Llamas which made a nice change to the usual livestock. This one was particularly curious, however I kept my distance worried he might spit at me, which I’m sure I’ve heard they do sometimes. I liked his hairstyle, very down with the kids.

Stopping in Muasdale for a break I dropped into the village store. They had bananas! I’d forgotten to buy any in Oban and had developed a craving for them. I duly consumed a couple, along with some chocolate to try and get some energy back. The store owner advised that on a good day you could ride to Campbeltown in 30 minutes, or about 2 hours if the wind was in the wrong direction. He was about right, the next session taking a while and involving a fair bit of swearing as the headwind quickly drained my banana infused legs.

Riding on down the A83. Not liking the look of the weather.

Riding on down the A83. Not liking the look of the weather.


The next 15 miles were really hard work, with the headwind getting a lot stronger as I passed through Bellochantuy and Kilkenzie, before arriving in Campbeltown about 17.00. 

Windy coastline, with sheep of course

Windy coastline, with sheep of course


 

The old bridge

The old bridge


 

Weather boding ill

Weather boding ill


The last 10 miles had been achieved purely on the promise of a hot meal and a pint in Campbeltown, so I had a quick ride around looking for somewhere to have a break. Passing a Co-op I nipped in to buy a few supplies, including a couple of their Danish pastries which were massively reduced, it being the end of the day – they didn’t last long. The checkout girl recommended the White Hart Hotel for a decent meal, which I’d passed on my scout about, so I made my way there past the docks.

Campbeltown port with lots of timber ready to be shipped

Campbeltown port with lots of timber ready to be shipped


I passed the port where a lot of the trees I’d seen on the back of trucks, or stacked up at the bottom of deforested hillsides, seem to have ended up. At least there’s a decent replanting programme and it seems to be well managed, although it takes about 30 years for the trees to get to harvestable size, and must increase the risk of landslides.

Locking my bike outside the White Hart I got down to the serious business of food, and a beer to help alleviate my dented morale. I ordered the Louisiana Spicy Chicken pizza, based on the bar staff’s recommendation, and wasn’t disappointed; it was huge and tasted delicious.

Campbeltown - pizza at White Hart Hotel

Campbeltown – pizza at White Hart Hotel


The hotel and bar wasn’t expensive, and the staff friendly, so suddenly the day seemed a lot better, especially with a portion size finally worthy of a long distance cyclist’s appetite. I’d have struggled to finish the pizza a few month’s ago, but it disappeared quickly and I felt ready to venture forth once again.

Refuelled I set out for Southend and the Mull of Kintyre, at the southern point of the peninsula. The rain set in about half a mile out of Campbeltown, and with the wind made things rather unpleasant. Spray being kicked up by passing cars meant I was soon pretty wet, including soggy feet. I covered the 10 miles to Southend fairly slowly, but it was worth it, being greeted by a fairly dramatic coastline.

Mull of Kintyre

Mull of Kintyre


 

Sea off Southend pretty stormy

Sea off Southend pretty stormy


I rode around to Carsley Bay and stopped for a look at the Kiel Caves, and St Columba’s footsteps and Well. I disturbed a lot of roosting pigeons in the cave, which might have been quite a good spot to camp if it hadn’t been for the amount of guano, it was certainly sheltered from the wind and rain, but a bit too squishy and smelly!

Kiel Caves

Kiel Caves


 

Kiel Caves - inside a bit smelly

Kiel Caves – inside a bit smelly


 

St Columba's footsteps

St Columba’s footsteps

I reckon the footstep was about a size 8 Wellington boot, but that’s probably slightly blasphemous – I’m sure he wore sandals. I made a wish at the Well for a good place to camp, kind of worked I guess.

St Columba's Well

St Columba’s Well

 

Carsley Bay

Carsley Bay


 

Mull of Kintyre panorama

Mull of Kintyre panorama

A large and dilapidated looking dirty white building up on the hillside was making me slightly nervous. It looked very out of place, and maybe was once a hotel, maybe it still is. I wouldn’t stay there, it looked spooky and was probably full of vampires; Hotel of the Damned maybe – there’s a short story there I reckon.

I’d been aiming for a campsite in Southend, but it turned out to be a caravan site only. I could have perhaps squeezed into a spot on the coast beside it, but there were several no camping signs, and I didn’t want to sleep in the shadow of the spooky building anyway, plus the coastline was getting blasted by the wind. I decided to save money and wild camp somewhere inland for the night, preferably somewhere a bit drier.

Pedalling out of Southend I turned on to the minor road that would eventually loop back around the coast to Campbeltown, via a different route to the one that had brought me here. In the driving wind and rain, with water seeping into places it had no business to seep into, I had to tackle a couple of pretty challenging hills in my search for a campsite. I could feel my back wheel starting to go again too, perfect timing. With streams starting to flow down the road I eventually found a suitable spot, if not particularly dry, near a patch off woodland. It would have been a beautiful view if not for the weather, but at least it was keeping the midges away.

It was a relief to get my tent up and pile inside, stuffing my panniers and wet stuff into the porch area. I was pretty damp, the rain having dripped inside my waterproof, and my socks needed wringing out.

Wild camp in hills near Southend 1

Wild camp in hills near Southend 1

 

Wild camp in hills near Southend 2

Wild camp in hills near Southend 2

Reckon my tent was pretty camouflaged from any hunting vampires, although they’d be unlikely to be out in this weather, their makeup would run!

I got into some dry stuff and retreated into my inner sanctum, getting cosy for the night and trying to dry a few things out using body heat, which is effective but not entirely comfortable. I decided to leave wheel straightening until the morning, when hopefully the rain would have stopped (haha). I snacked on a few biscuits and some cheese, listening to the bad weather lashing against my tent, which fortunately doesn’t leak, and putting on a few extra layers to combat the chill evening. I really didn’t want to have to venture outside to the loo, and thankfully fell asleep before I needed to.

Leg 43 – to Kilberry via Melfort and Kilmartin

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Great days ride covering 69 miles, with some tough hills but beautiful scenery.

13 June 2013

It was a bit bit weird waking up in a bed, and I was momentarily confused as to where I was without the familiar tent canvas not far for my head. I’m calling it canvas, but I suppose it’s not really, some kind of synthetic material that I’m very thankful keeps the wind and rain out – Akto working very well so far and I’d be back in it this evening.

I had breakfast downstairs, including several rounds of toast which was delicious, before packing up and heading off. I enjoyed one last shower before leaving, as I knew I had some wild camping coming up and wasn’t sure if I’d have a campsite that evening or not; depended on how far I got.

After dropping off my key at the backpackers plus reception, getting back my £10 deposit, I headed to Nevis Cycles which I’d found yesterday, and had already contacted via their sister shop in Fort William. I dropped my bike in with Darren to get the rear cassette changed, and a few things tightened and tweaked. I needed to get the cassette changed as it was looking pretty worn after so many miles, which was causing the chain to slip about a bit. Darren noticed my rear wheel hub was slightly the wrong size (130mm rather that 135mm), but said it should be fine given the steel frame – a bit of a relief as I really didn’t want to have to buy another new rear wheel so soon.

Leaving my bike in the operating theatre for a bit I walked down to the harbour front and enjoyed a hot chocolate before having another wander about. Thankfully there were no bagpipes this morning, just quite a few interesting shops and nice places to eat – I was half tempted to spend another day in Oban.

Oban harbour front

Oban harbour front

 

Oban Harbour

Oban Harbour

I headed back to Nevis Cycles about 11.30, and had a good chat with Darren who definitely knows his stuff, and gave me a few tips. He’d also replaced a dodgy cable and toed my rear brake in a bit to stop it squealing which was a bit a of a win. We talked about touring for a while, and potential other plans for routes. I’d really recommend to anyone capable, which is most people, to get on your bike and head out into the countryside, whether it be for a few hours or for several months. You see, smell and hear so much more than in a car, as well as meet more fantastic people. It’s also great to stop in at bike shops and have a chat with like minded individuals as you pass through.

Nevis Cycles - Oban

Nevis Cycles – Oban

Bidding Oban a fond farewell, or should that be ‘au revoir’ as I intend to return, I pedalled off on the revitalised Ridgeback, up a long hill on the road to Campbeltown, although that was still a long way off. After a few ups an downs on the A816, I turned on to the B844 at Kilninver, and cycled to the Bridge over the Atlantic where I stopped at the Tigh-An-Truish Inn, on Seil Island, for lunch.

Loch Feochan

Loch Feochan


 

Loch Feochan 2

Loch Feochan 2


 

Bridge over the Atlantic

Bridge over the Atlantic


I’d been to the Tigh-An-Truish Inn a few years before, with my parents, and wanted to go again despite it being a 10 mile dead end detour. It was well worth it with a great vegetarian lasagne and garlic bread consumed vigorously. Nice to have a chat with the owner and say hello to the pub dog too.

Tigh-An-Truish Inn

Tigh-An-Truish Inn


 

Great lasagne

Great lasagne


 

Lobster checking the map

Lobster checking the map

When I left the pub there were a couple of French camper van tourers inspecting my bike, which seems to be a common theme. I had a brief chat with a local who wished me well, liking the fact I was losing track of time and space slightly. May also be losing my sanity at some points too.

The area around the bridge is really pretty, especially in the sunshine, with some lovely flowers and a small anchorage area amongst the surrounding hills. Apparently locals used to change back into their kilts at the bridge and Inn as they crossed back to the island, when kilts where outlawed on the mainland. Another place to come back to at some point.

I rode back up the big hill to the main road from Seil Island, over the bridge, and turned south towards Loch Melfort. I am familiar with the area anyway, having been on holiday with my parents up there a couple of times; they have a lovely timeshare in Melfort Village.

On my way to Melfort

On my way to Melfort

 

Road twists and turns through mountains and past lochs

Road twists and turns through mountains and past lochs


 

Reservoir before Melfort, and dam

Reservoir before Melfort, and dam


After quite a long climb, and a lovely descent through pine forest which smelt gorgeous, I arrived in Kilmelfort and stopped at the general store to buy a few supplies, including bread, chocolate and smoked sausage! I remembered it was father’s day coming up, so bought a card and posted it from the store, which as is the case with a lot of village stores in Scotland doubles as a post office; don’t see that so much in England anymore.

I took a quick detour down the road to Melfort Village, to remind myself what it looked like. I’d forgotten how bumpy the road is though. Passed a lovely garden that I remembered from previous visits.

Melfort garden amongst the pines

Melfort garden amongst the pines

I cycled around the village and past the Shower of Herring Inn, which looked like it was still going strong. There was quite a lot of activity in the village, with lawn mowing and gardening going on. I’ve noticed a lot of lawn mowing and strimming as I’ve passed through Scotland, must help keep the midges down a bit.

Melfort Village

Melfort Village

Next up I followed the A816 around the coast and up a couple of really big hills, which were thankfully followed by lovely long descents. I arrived in Kilmartin and stopped for a break. The village is at the top of a hill and overlooks a valley where you can see prehistoric cairns. The sun came out and brought everything to life, so was a great view.

View down valley from Kilmartin

View down valley from Kilmartin

I had a look around the medieval church, and carved stones in the graveyard which are worth visiting.

Kilmartin - Medieval carved gravestones

Kilmartin – Medieval carved gravestones

 

Kilmartin - Medieval carved gravestones 2

Kilmartin – Medieval carved gravestones 2

I stopped in at the hotel for a pint, and had a chat with the barman who new of a few campsites in the area. I wasn’t sure where I’d stop, but decided to head towards Kilberry. If I didn’t make it that far I could always wild camp somewhere. Also had a chat with a Canadian lady just off the plane, and on a tour of Scotland for a few weeks. She was a bit jet lagged and not quite at home on the roads as yet, but I gave her a few tips on Skye.

Near Kilmartin - Cairns and standing stones abound

Near Kilmartin – Cairns and standing stones abound


Kilmartin must have been an important place for centuries, judging from the number of cairns around, and the medieval artefacts.

Under patchy cloud I rode south, turning on to the B8025 down to the Crinan Canal, which I rode alongside for a bit counting at least 13 lochs. The canal provides a short cut for boats going from one side of the long peninsula to the other, rather than having to go all the way around the Mull of Kintyre. It’s also a very pleasant ride, and there’s a cycle path you can use.

Crinan Canal 1

Crinan Canal 1


 

Crinan Canal 2 - loch gate

Crinan Canal 2 – loch gate


 

Crinan Canal 3

Crinan Canal 3


After a nice ride alongside the canal I turned back on to the A816 and cycled past Lochgilphead, somewhere I’d be returning to in a couple of days time, all being well. I passed through Ardrishaig, which was bigger than I expected, before turning on to the B8024 to get to Kilberry.

Lochgilphead

Lochgilphead


The B8024 road surface is a bit shoddy, to say the least, which made the longest ascent of the day pretty demanding on tired legs and aching wrists. I was keeping my fingers crossed that there was still a campsite in Kilberry, as the barman’s advice from the Kilmartin Hotel was based on 20 year old knowledge. If the worst came to the worst I could wild camp, but it’s nice to get a hot shower. I finally made it up and over the top, passing a loch, before beginning a long and winding descent.

Lonely loch

Lonely loch


 

The road down to the West coast

The road down to the West coast


 

Forest panorama

Forest panorama


 

Wind farm - I was to see this particular wind farm a lot over the next few days, from lots of different angles

Wind farm – I was to see this particular wind farm a lot over the next few days, from lots of different angles


With a South Westerly wind gathering in strength I was keen to get to the campsite sooner rather that later, so I pedalled on past Achaheish feeling a bit chilly despite the sunshine. A group of photogenic highland cattle didn’t look very cold.

Highland cattle

Highland cattle


 

Highland cattle 2

Highland cattle 2

I rode alongside Loch Callisport, which it’s small sandy beaches looking quite inviting. If it had been a bit warmer, actually scratch that a lot warmer, I’d have been tempted to have a swim.

Loch Callisport beaches

Loch Callisport beaches


 

Loch Callisport beaches 2

Loch Callisport beaches 2


At Ormsary I passed Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs sitting in a garden, a little odd. It was quite a long way around to Kilberry, and I lost track slightly of where I was on the map. I passed the Port Ban campsite thinking I was still some way from the town, so I rode on expecting there to be another site in Kilberry. I reached Kilberry about a mile later, passing a sign to some sculpted stones which I’d visit the following day. With more pressing matters on hand I popped into the village inn to check where the nearest campsite was; it had been the one at Port Ban. So as not to appear impolite I stopped for a beer in the Inn, a brew from Orkney, and chatted to the owner for a bit. It’s more of a restaurant than a pub, and the food smelt delicious. I was sorely tempted to eat there, but it was a little pricey and I had stuff in my panniers anyway, plus I really needed to get to the campsite and get my tent set up.

More blooming flowers

More blooming flowers


Ominous grey skies off the coast

Ominous grey skies off the coast


Kilberry coastline

Coastline near Kilberry

On aching legs I rode back to Port Ban, thankfully not having to contend with any more hills – the bike was beginning to feel very heavy. I arrived at the big site about 21.00, and pitched up post finding the manager Tom who was out running. I bumped into him on the road but declined the invite to join him for a run this instance. The site is good, having it’s own cafe that is open during the day, but was closed when arrived, and wifi around reception. The camping field is right down the far end of the site though, and a long walk for the toilet block, although they’re in the process of building a new toilet block right next to the field. You can pitch your tent right next to the beach which is nice, and have a fire on the beach itself. It being a little late, and a bit windy still, I pitched the Akto further back, and was soon inside it.

Luckily I’d just managed to get all my stuff inside my tent as the heavens opened to a heavy shower, the first serious rain of the day. I felt very cosy in my tent, and it was very peaceful with just a few buzzards circling overhead, and no other campers aside from me this evening. There were no midges around either, it being a little too windy and right next to the sea.

I consumed a dinner of bread, cheese, smoked sausage, yoghurt and fruit, before accidentally accidentally falling asleep for an hour and a half. I think I was more tired than I realised, despite only having done 69 miles; there had been a lot of hills. I’d noticed my rear brake starting to rub a bit so I’d need to adjust that, and check my wheels, but that could it until the morning. I don’t think the bumpy roads, or track down to the campsite, had done anything for my wheel straightness today!

It was quite a chilly evening so I was happy to stay in my tent and get warm in my sleeping bag, mulling over today’s leg, and writing up my journal. I recalled that I’d started to make up my own language, inventing motivational words to utter when powering up hills. Must sound a bit odd if there was anyone around but they help. The air had been lovely and fresh and clean smelling today, and a I felt quite invigorated before falling asleep again, this time until morning.

Empty campsite

Empty campsite


View from campsite beach

View from campsite beach – to Islay and Jura?


View from campsite - Port Ban

Port Ban – View from campsite


Smoked sausage dinner, doesn't look that appealing but tastes good

Smoked sausage dinner, doesn’t look that appealing but tastes good


Port Ban - nighttime

Port Ban – nighttime

It would be on to Campbell Town tomorrow, and the Mull of Kintyre, before turning around and heading back up the peninsula. I was half tempted to consider getting the ferry over to Glasgow and cut out some of the convoluted route, but I knew I’d regret it later if I did that. Fingers crossed for good weather.

Leg 41 – to Fort William from Mull

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I ate quite a lot today, grazing frequently on the contents of my panniers, and hence going though nearly all my chocolate, a bag of Haribos, two apples, a banana, pork pies, and other assorted food stuffs. It was a long day with 109 miles of pedalling!

11 June 2013

I roused myself out of my tent about 7.30, to an overcast and breezy day. I had breakfast and packed up quick. With no showers available I was only able to cover basic ministrations, so I was on the road in good time. I kept an eye out for the Sea Eagles but couldn’t see any; maybe they were up having a lie in.

Morning view from tent in Killiechronan

Morning view from tent in Killiechronan

 

Packed up and ready for another day

Packed up and ready for another day

Leaving Killiechronan about 09.15, there followed a pleasant ride around the coastline, with hardly anyone else about. I passed quite few small herds of cows with calves, and one group of bulls, all not fenced in which made me slightly worried. At one point I approached a rather large bull walking ponderously down the road to join its mates a bit further on. I decided not to antagonise it, and let it finish its short road journey before passing by; it stopped to give me the once over but decided I wasn’t very interesting. There were also a lot of sheep about, being their usual stupid selves and either sitting in the road blocking the way until I got really close, then bolting in a random direction which might be in front of my front wheel, or running off in a group in front of me for several hundred feet down the road before realising I wasn’t going to stop following them and finally turning off into the field. I’ve unintentionally herded quite a few groups of sheep about on my bike; could do with that lance Nigel suggested to assist with the process and maybe score some roast lamb dinner. I did see one ewe wearing its lamb as a scarf, which was pretty cute. They both looked pretty comfortable with the arrangement, unfortunately I didn’t have my camera handy as could have been worth a few quid as a photo.

Riding around Loch na Keal from Killiechronan

Riding around Loch na Keal from Killiechronan


 

Bulls, luckily they were all being very civilised

Bulls, luckily they were all being very civilised


 

Coastal road getting interesting

Coastal road getting interesting


I was in a good mood as I pedalled along, greeting one cyclist going the other way exuberantly; he looked a little tired and damp which should really have rung alarm bells. I passed the small island of Eorsa, which sounds like another Norse name, singing some old Monty Python songs I’d had stuck in my head all morning.

Shortly after passing Eorsa I turned inland, still on the B8035, up the pass between Ben More and Bein na Steine, whereupon things turned nasty. The wind got stronger and it started to rain, making it tough going on the ascent, and having to use a very low gear. I passed through some forest, and a signpost for guided Eagle tours, but it really wasn’t the weather for it.

Riding up the pass, foul weather

Riding up the pass, foul weather


 

Drenching clouds abound

Drenching clouds abound


I eventually crested the pass and coasted down through forest to Loch Scridain, the scenery reminding me of the film Dog Soldiers. I didn’t see any werewolves but there were creatures in those woods…deer most likely…probably. It was a bit of a ‘bone’ day in any case.

The next bit of the ride wasn’t too pleasant either, with the rain continuing, and the wind seeming to change direction to always be in my face. I was coming to the conclusion I needed to make a sacrifice to Odin or Thor, or more likely Loki, to try and appease them, either that or the wind just flows down off the hills so will often be in your face, and not following the prevailing wind direction.

Taking temporary shelter near Aird of Kinloch

Taking temporary shelter near Aird of Kinloch

There followed a gruelling passage through Glen More, passing another cycle tourer going the other way, equipped with the same Ortlieb panniers which were proving their worth in this weather. He looked equally bredraggled and we gave each other encouraging waves as we pedalled on. There was a bit too much traffic on this road (A849), especially in the rain, with spray being kicked up by cars, camper vans, coaches and lorries in abundance. The Tourist Information had claimed Mull’s roads were mostly quiet and traffic free, which isn’t always the case apparently. Most of it was probably on its way down to Fionport to get the ferry overly to Iona, to visit amongst other things the remains of the monastery, sacked by Vikings on numerous occasions – they’ve got a bit of a rep for that kind of thing. I’d opted not to do that bit of Mull, especially given the weather, as it was a long way out of my way, a dead end, and not as interesting as the rest of Mull. I’d have to come back and do the various islands around Mull another time.

Enduring Glen More

Enduring Glen More


Post a hilly and wet passage through the glen, and feeling a little bit pissed off due to water infiltrating my nether regions, I passed the turning to Lochbuie with a friend’s (Mac) family motto going round my head; Conquer or Die. His clan seat is Lochbuie and the phrase seemed apt for the day. I pedalled on deciding against a 16 mile detour in this particular instance, to Lochdon and Duart Bay, passing Duart Castle, the site of another friend’s ancestral clan seat; Ron – do you ever break out the family tartan and do bit of a highland fling incidentally?

I arrived in Craignure as the ferry to Oban was loading, and was half tempted to hop on board, it being my destination in a couple of days time. It would however have meant missing a large chunk of coast out which I wasn’t up for sacrificing. Instead I stopped at a local cafe and had their soup and a sandwich meal deal, and a decaf coffee to warm up. The leek and potato soup plus BLT tasted pretty darned good after the morning’s endeavours. I noticed I was dripping everywhere, puddles of water collecting around me, so I retreated to the bathroom to ring a few items of clothing out. My sleeves were sodden despite wearing a waterproof, the wind having driven the rain in. I must have looked a bit if a state.

Despite my appearance, or perhaps it was because the only seats left in the cafe were at my table, I was joined by a couple on holiday in Mull, staying in Tobermory. They were doing some hill walking, otter watching, and planned on visiting a few of the islands including Staffa. It was good to have a nice chat after the less than pleasant morning; she’d done a fair bit of wild camping on Mull and in Scotland, including close encounters with sheep in the night!

Craignure

Craignure


 

Craignure - ferry leaving

Craignure – ferry leaving


Feeling re-invigorated, if still damp, I rode around to Fishnish to get the ferry back to the mainland. I bought a can of fanta and a cake from the cafe next to the slipway, whilst waiting for the ferry, attempting to have a conversation with the jolly owner, however his accent was a little to thick to follow at times – I think I laughed at the right moments. At least the rain had stopped for a bit, even if it was still windy.

Waiting for the ferry to Lochaline

Waiting for the ferry to Lochaline


I rode on to the ferry and retreated to the cabin area once bike was stashed, to get out of the wind for a bit. The ferry was really busy, packed with cars and camper vans, but they mostly stayed in their vehicles for the short crossing. It only cost me £3.50, and took about 25 minutes. I chatted to one of the ferry attendants on the crossing, who’s also a keen cyclist. He described the route to Fort William, pointing out the long ascent to begin with, over 12 miles, and the ferry I could take at Ardgar (Corran Ferry) if I wanted to cut off about 30 miles. There were a couple of options route wise, and I decided to take the one closer to the coast, both were allegedly equally attractive with nice long descents to enjoy.

Slipway to Fishnish Ferry

Slipway to Fishnish Ferry


 

Fishnish Ferry incoming

Fishnish Ferry incoming


 

Fishnish Ferry - a full load

Fishnish Ferry – a full load


 

Goodbye to Mull

Goodbye to Mull


Leaving the ferry behind, and in slightly improved weather, I pedalled up the long hill out of Lochaline on the A884. The road is mostly single track, passing through forest and fen, and wasn’t too busy so was a pleasant ride. I did however encounter a lot of sheep again, either on or around the road, who did their usual panic at the last moment routine. I unintentionally ended up herding a few large groups down the road to pastures new. Cars don’t don’t seem to bother them, but me on a bike is a different story, even if I give them lots of warning I’m coming.

Sheep herding again

Sheep herding again

The hilly road continued up Gleann Geal and beyond, before I turned on to the B8043 towards the coast rather than continue up to Strontian. The rain had started again, but it wasn’t hard and the wind had dropped, so it was a fun descent all the way down to Loch Linnhe. The road twists, turns and undulates, through moorland and forest, and there was very little traffic when I was going down it at some speed. In fact I think I counted about 3 cars all the way back to the main road. The scenery looked slightly eldritch in the light rain and low cloud, with water trickling down everywhere, and hanging off fern fronds and trees. I half expected to see pixies and maybe the occasional gnome ambling about.

Top of descent down to Loch Linnhe

Top of descent down to Loch Linnhe


 

Descent to Loch Linnhe 2

Descent to Loch Linnhe 2

I had to keep an eye on the road surface, which was a bit ropey in places with loose gravel and potholes that could have seriously thwarted my descent had I hit them wrong. At the bottom I turned up along the coast, along the mostly flat single track road, which was still pretty bumpy and jarred my wrists somewhat.

Coast road to Inversanda

Coast road to Inversanda


Mist on Loch Linnhe, bike doing well

Mist on Loch Linnhe, bike doing well


 

Loch Linnhe again

Loch Linnhe again

 

Oh look, more sheep

Oh look, more sheep


At Inversanda I joined the A861, riding up to Ardgar having done about 31 miles since getting off the ferry. I knew this because of handy milestone markers along the roads which I’d been trying to keep track of and add up. It was about 17.00 and I was tempted to get the ferry over to Corran, which runs back and forth continually until around 21.00. Going round the rest of Loch Linnhe, then Loch Eil to Fort William was another 30 miles, as opposed to 10 on the other side. In the end I opted not to take the ferry deciding it would be cheating. I had a pork pie and snickers to celebrate my willpower holding out.

 

Corran Ferry

Corran Ferry


Corran Ferry 2

Corran Ferry 2


On slightly tired legs I pressed on, up past Conaglen House, along roads lined with Rhododendron, which made the biologist in me concerned about soil acidity and other plant species being snuffed out, but they looked nice.

 

Road past Conaglen House

Road past Conaglen House


 

Long road around the Lochs

Long road around the Lochs

The road around the lochs is mostly flat, so I made good progress, partly motivated by not wanting to stop due to clouds of midges. I passed through several small villages, and could see Fort William on the other side of Loch Linnhe.

Looking across to Fort William

Looking across to Fort William, so close and yet so far


Looking across to Fort William 2

Looking across to Fort William 2

Eventually I made it around to the A830, and powered by Haribos rode on to Fort William arriving at about 20.30, feeling pretty hungry. I made the mistake of taking a cycle path for the last bit, thinking that would be nice, however I had to manoeuvre through several swing gates, and over a railway crossing with yet more gates, which left me cursing somewhat. Tricky with a heavy bike, at the end of a long day, and probably took twice as long as the road route. Must remember just to stick to the road in future! I came out at Neptune’s staircase, a series of lochs up to the Caledonian canal which I thought I’d visit tomorrow.

Beginning of Neptune's Staircase

Beginning of Neptune’s Staircase

Before heading to the campsite I nipped into town and bought some fish and chips, which didn’t last long. It felt a bit odd being in a big town again, with lots of shops and ‘normal’ people about, including multitudes of tourists, locals out for a drink, and the odd big issue salesperson looking hopeful. I noticed a Cotswolds outlet which I’d visit tomorrow to see if I could get a replacement Power Monkey cable.

Post dinner I rode up to Glen Nevis, in the shadow of a cloud covered Ben Nevis, and pitched up at the campsite there. I met a friendly police dog and its handler on the way in, out for a stroll. The collie dog had a liking for bike tyres and stalked me for a bit before being called off. Reception was closed so it would be the ‘pay in the morning’ routine again. Good facilities at the campsite, but the midges had started to appear so after a wash I retreated pretty quickly to my tent. Damned things.

Tent up in Glen Nevis

Tent up in Glen Nevis

So despite a poor start, and it raining nearly all day, it had ended up being a great ride covering 111 miles, two of which had been on the ferry from Mull. It wasn’t far down to Oban where I planned to ride to the next day, post doing a few things around Fort William – bike shops, Cotswolds, Neptune’s Staircase. My back wheel was doing well but I was constantly having to tighten or adjust the spokes, and it was only a matter of time before it suffered a critical failure, so I needed to replace it…again.

After arranging damp kit to hopefully dry a bit, including a couple of bits in my warm sleeping bag, I fell asleep pretty swifty after a 13 hour day in the office.

Leg 40 – to Tobermory, Calgary and Killiechronan on Mull

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A shorter day miles wise, with only 35 covered.

10 June 2013

I woke up feeling a bit itchy. The midges had definitely got to the lower parts of my legs, and my hands to an extent, resulting in quite few ugly red bite marks. The Avon lady seemed to have kept them off my face and arms, although I wasn’t convinced it was really working. I need to train a team of spiders to spin webs around my campsite every night to catch the midges and Mosquitos. One had spun its web under my bike saddle and caught loads of midges for its supper, a shame I had to evict him or her.

A fine morning in Ardnamurchan

A fine morning in Ardnamurchan

After breakfast and a quick shower I packed everything back on to my bike, and pedalled to the end of the road, just to get a bit further west. I wasn’t going to go all the way to Ardnamurchan Point, as it was a dead end, and I had a ferry to catch over to Mull.

End of the road west for the time being

End of the road west for the time being

I pedalled back down the hill to Kilchoan and was just in time to get the ferry, perfect, so I rode on board squeezing my bike between the cars, camper-vans and caravans; I wish more people would just get a bike, much cheaper at £5.00 for the crossing as opposed to about £20.00 for a car.

Waiting to board the ferry at Kilchoan

Waiting to board the ferry at Kilchoan


 

Leaving Kilchoan

Leaving Kilchoan

I went up to the deck area for some of the short voyage over to Tobermory, the largest town on Mull. It was a bit of a blustery day, making it a bit chilly out on the water, but mostly sunny. Retreating inside for a bit I called my parents who were squatting in my house in Norwich, and went through my mail with them, nothing very exciting; home insurance, bills, statements and junk mail for the most part. Good to have people checking up on my house, and of course Dad was in fixing things mode so I would no doubt have some home improvements by the time I returned.

Aerial shot of my bike, lashed to its railing

Aerial shot of my bike, lashed to its railing


 

Round the point to Tobermory

Round the point to Tobermory

Arriving in Tobermory I trundled off the boat, making my way to the Mull museum, literally a few hundred yards down the road on the harbour front. It is free to look around, although they are grateful for donations, and a superb place to start a trip around Mull. I think it took about 30 minutes to look round all the exhibits, being only a small museum, but could have been longer as it was quite absorbing.

I learned about quite a few things, including:

 – Mull and Tobermory during the Second World War, when many Navy crews were trained in the area for escort duty under the watchful eye of the ‘Terror of Tobermory’, Commodore Stephenson, from on board HMS Western Isles. He had a quite a reputation due to unconventional training methods and a fierce temperament, hence his nickname, and was responsible for the training of 1,132 ships and their crews for escort duty in 4 years, up to the end of the war. I reckon that’s a pretty remarkable achievement, which no doubt contributed massively to the war effort and keeping convoys safe versus the U-boat threat.

The Terror of Tobermory

The Terror of Tobermory


 – A Spanish ship that sunk in the bay, from the Armada. It was one of the many that were forced up around the coast of Scotland post the Armada break up. It put into Tobermory for repairs, after a deal was struck with the local clan chief. In return for supplies and repair work, the ship’s captain loaned the use of some of the many soldiers he had on board, to help the chief settle a few local disputes/feuds. Pretty cunning. Unfortunately the ship later blew up in the harbour, and sank. Rumours have persisted of large amounts of gold on the ship, and salvage efforts have been raking place ever since. No bullion found to date. Quite a few Armada ships did eventually make it back to Spain, but nothing like the number that set off.

 – The history of Mull, from the Stone Age to the Bronze and Iron Age, about the Celts, and Christianity arriving via St. Columba, and the Iona monastery. The Norse turned up in their longships, being Vikings, and killed a lot of monks, Christians  and Celts during their successive raids over the years, so much so that the Iona monastery was eventually abandoned. The Norse later came back and settled on some parts of Mull, but not to the same extent as other islands on the west coast.

 – A series of accounts from notable individuals visiting Mull, in the 18th and 19th centuries, which were also interesting to read, with a few items including a travelling chest used for storing specimens and kit. One account described the average Mull man as surely one of the most heavily armed in Europe, with shield, dirk, pistol and broadsword, and possibly other weapons secreted about their person. They were also apparently very brawny in their kilts and berets, with an ammunition pouch helping to conceal their privates. The women were equally tough, wearing tartan again, which often wrapped around into a veil and headscarf.

Tobermory - brightly painted houses

Tobermory – brightly painted houses


After my history lesson I cycled along the harbour-front to the other side, before having an early lunch at one of the pubs; very nice to sit down for an hour or so, and eat a huge burger that would keep me going or a bit. I also nipped into the tourist information office to check on my planned route, possible things to see, and campsites.

Riding back along the harbour front I stopped to look around a visiting Himalayan bazaar, a bit bizarre, and bought some incense which I thought might help versus the midges, or at least would smell nice. The bazaar had lots of nice Himalayan style knitted clothes, including arm warmers and hats that I fancied the look of, but really isn’t have room for. Got me thinking about a tour down to Tibet though, and to Everest; another one to add to the list!

Before pedalling to Calgary I stopped and bought some supplies, I’d been craving apples. Suitably restocked with a few things I rode up the steep hill out of Tobermory, and on to the B8073.

My trusty steed in Tobermory

My trusty steed in Tobermory


 

Tobermory - yachts in the harbour

Tobermory – yachts in the harbour


 

Tobermory - view from on high

Tobermory – view from on high


The road over to the village of Dervaig was in slightly poor condition, and fairly hilly, so it was tough going at times and i was a bit worried about my rear wheel again. Some nice scenery though, and not many sheep.

Road to Dervaig

Road to Dervaig

 

Road to Dervaig 2

Road to Dervaig 2


I stopped for a break in Dervaig, which claims to be he prettiest village on Mull, and had a drink at the Bellachroy Inn. The Inn is the oldest on the Island, dating from 1608. I had a chat with a couple of builders on a break, interested in my bike, who advised that the road around to Calgary was mostly flat, and that it was only about 4 miles to the bay. They were on a break for a while, leading me to think not much happens fast on Mull.

Pressing on to Calgary I soon realised the road wasn’t really flat at all. I guess if you’re driving you don’t notice the hills as much. Still it had less steep bits than the pervious section, and wound through some lovely countryside. Lots of bluebells were out, along with ferns and bracken growing everywhere, and various flowers and flowering trees scenting the air.

Calgary, which gave its name to the Canadian city, is gorgeous beach surrounded by hills, with an area of machair, and wide expanse of pale sand. With the sunshine the sea was a deep blue colour. I went for a walk down to the beach, and across a bit of the machair which is Gaelic for a specific type of grassland/meadow that grows on sandy soil in Scotland, next to the sea. It’s under threat from coastal erosion, excessive amounts of people walking on it, and grazing by sheep and rabbits, so I was a bit bemused to see sheep actually on it. Efforts were being made to conserve it, as it’s unique habitat for some flora and fauna.

Calgary Bay and machair

Calgary Bay and machair


There a designated wild camping area in Calgary, next to a toilet block. I was tempted to stop for the day but I really hadn’t done many miles, and didn’t want to leave myself with too much to do tomorrow, so I pedalled on. Calgary would be a great place to camp out with a few friends, however I get the feeling it’s a very popular spot, the wild camping area having had quite a few folks on it already.

Calgary wild camping area

Calgary wild camping area


 

Calgary beach, pretty gorgeous

Calgary beach, pretty gorgeous and unspoilt


I regretted the decision to press on shortly afterwards, running into a fierce headwind and big hills – especially the one just prior to Fanmore. The hill and headwind combi was a bit of a leg burner, however I made it up, finding a large stone cairn at the top; I added a stone to it in case it was good luck to do so.

Riding round northern Mull

Riding round northern Mull


The Cairn

The Cairn

The wind lessened a bit as I cycled on towards Killiechronan, still on the B8073 – there aren’t really that many roads to choose from on Mull. Passed through some nice scenery, with the Isle of Ulva just off the coast, across Loch Tuath. You can get a ferry across to Ulva at one point, it’s really not a long crossing – reckon you could swim it pretty easily.

Road to Killiechronan

Road to Killiechronan


 

Lots of bluebells

Lots of bluebells


 

Ulva off the coast

Ulva off the coast


 

View to Southern Mull

View to Southern Mull

I arrived at the campsite in Killiechronan, which didn’t consist of a lot (campsite or place), and pitched up, the owner coming around a bit later on his quad bike to collect the £4.00 fee, so nice and cheap. I chatted to a few of the other people staying there – the site was pretty full with kayakers, camper vans, and a few other cycle tourers. Unsurprising given the good location right on the coastline, even if there are no showers, and it’s a bit of a walk up the road to the toilet block.

View across bay from Killiechronan

View across bay from Killiechronan

One bird watching couple lent me their binoculars briefly, to look at the Sea Eagle sitting in a tree across the bay, a truly immense bird of prey. There were a couple of them apparently, although I only saw one, which later soared and swooped across the bay, presumably looking for fish or an easy meal courtesy of the nesting birds in the area, of which there were lots; saw oystercatchers, gulls, sandpipers, amongst others. Mull has the biggest population of Sea Eagles in the UK, them all congregating on the island, and it was great to see one. 

I fell asleep in my tent post dinner it was so relaxing, with the breeze keeping the midges away, and the incense I’d bought earlier wafting about. Getting up I had a brief chat with a French cycle tourer going the other way, who’d rigged up an ingenious washing line from his tent to his bike. He had a kick stand for his bike though, which I really need to invest in.

Feeling pretty tired, and with most people retreating inside their various tents or camper vans due to breeze dropping and midge threat increasing, I decided to have an early night too, rather than do some bike maintenance which could wait until the morning. It was nice just lying in my tent chilling out, doing a bit of planning and reading. Very quiet too. I ruled out visiting any of the other islands around Mull, as I did’t really have the time. It would be nice to come back and go to Staffa to see Fingal’s Cave with its unique geology and mystical atmosphere, as well as to go to Iona and visit the sacked monastery – Vikings again. There are various boat trips you can go on to the outlying islands, as well as to see seals, more bird life, and porpoises and whales if you’relucky.

So only a short day today, covering 35 miles. I’d need to improve upon that tomorrow, and hoped the weather would be good for it. Went to bed post saying hello to a couple of friendly campsite dogs doing the rounds.

Leg 38 – to Arisaig

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I’m writing this whilst wild camping down near Campbeltown, with the rain lashing down and wind gusting outside my warm and cosy tent. Currently wondering if any of the clothes I wore today will be dry by the morning, but not to worry, I have ginger nuts. Now back to nearly a week ago on Skye.

08 June 2013

I woke up early (for me) at 06.30, with an urge on get back on the road after a day’s rest. I had breakfast and showered before packing up quick. The weather looked good in Uig, with mostly clear skies, sunshine, and very little wind.

Packing up - quick wheel check

Packing up – quick wheel check


Hitting the road about 08.30, I was off to a good start, having a long leg ahead of me. I cycled out past the Bakur Bar, bidding it a fond farewell, and past lines of traffic queuing for the morning ferry. Lots of people with bikes or kayaks attached to their vehicles but no cycle tourers I could see.

Beautiful day in Uig

Beautiful day in Uig


 

Bollards again - and clouds

Bollards again – and clouds, making me wonder what it was like on the other side of the island


I rode North out of Uig, up the hill on the A855 which would take me around the top of Skye and back down to Portree.

Looking back down towards Uig

Looking back down towards Uig


Unfortunately as soon as I got over the top the clouds started to draw in from the North, along with a moderate and chill wind. I decided to speed up and try and get this section done quickly, hoping the weather would improve again down in Portree, with the clouds breaking up against the mountains. I rode through some fairly wet and at times foggy landscape around to Staffin, passing several small villages and small islands just off the coast, as well as the usual multitude of sheep.

Road around the North of Skye

Road around the North of Skye


 

Staffin Bay

Staffin Bay

Staffin wasn’t very exciting, especially given the weather. It has a store, cafe and candle shop, but I didn’t need any artfully created scented wax illuminations at the time, so carried on. From Staffin I pedalled on down the coast, up and down a couple of big hills, to the Old Man of Storr, where the sun was just starting to burn off some of the cloud and fog, revealing the spectacular Storr mountain, and lochs on the other side of the road.

Storr Mountain and Old Man of Storr

Storr Mountain and Old Man of Storr

 

Still clouds hanging over the lochs

Still clouds hanging over the lochs

I stopped for a double banana break by the roadside, feeling a bit drained post the cold ride around the top if the island, before continuing on to Portree. There were quite a few motorbike tourers out on the road again, making easy work of the hills, along with the obligatory camper vans from all around Europe.

 

Portree Bay

Portree Bay

The sun came out properly in Portree, and remained out for the rest of the day. I stopped to buy a few supplies from the Co-op, then ate lunch in the town square, munching my way through most of a baguette, with cheese, ham, tomatoes, an apple, and a couple of cakes from the local bakery for good measure. There were lots of tourists and associated coaches in Portree again, and I heard then saw at least one bagpipe busker taking advantage of the holiday season influx.

 

Looking own on Portree old town

Looking own on Portree old town

I left Portree passing the finish of the half marathon being run at the same time. It must be a challenging course around the town, and I passed a few very tired looking individuals. I pedalled down the same road I’d cycled up two days previously, over some fairly big hills, and with Raasay and Scalpay just off the coast.

 

The road to Sligachan

The road to Sligachan

I passed dozens of cyclists going the other way over the next couple of hours, in small groups, ranging from those looking fairly professional to those who were huffing and puffing along slightly. There must have been some kind of charity ride on. It was nice to wave and shout hello, and they all waved back or shouted greetings, so was quite fun.

 

Lobster sun bathing in Sligachan

Lobster sun bathing in Sligachan – Cuillin Hills in background

 

Cuillin Hills again

Cuillin Hills again

 

Loch Ainot

Loch Ainot

I rode on and just after Broadford turned right, on to the A851 that would take me to Armadale. It was a lovely ride in the sunshine, through some great scenery alongside the Sound of Sleat. The road was comparatively flat, with just a few leg testers in the final miles before Armadale. In places there was lots of wild garlic out long side the roadside, giving the air a pleasant scent, with bluebells and plenty of bird life to keep me occupied. At times sparrows and tits would dart out in front of my bike, then fly off down the road in front of me before careering off into the bushes.

 

Down to the Sound of Sleat

Down to the Sound of Sleat

 

Sound of Sleat coastline

Sound of Sleat coastline

 

View across to Armadale

View across to Armadale

Passing Armadale Castle, which I couldn’t see from the road, I reached Armadale about 16.00 having covered in the region of 75 miles. I’d originally planned to camp there, but was still feeling pretty fresh, and the ferry across to Mallaig was still running. I had a quick look around the Eco Woodland campsite anyway, which turned out to be a bit different, with several curiosities to look around and set in a fantastic location. There were herb and vegetable beds everywhere, all labelled with what they could be used for, from natural anti-midge concoctions, to treatments for chafing, and recipes for various dishes. The whole set up had the feeling of a hippy commune, with water butts, ramshackle but well kept looking wooden buildings, and compost loos; there just didn’t seem to be anyone about. I had a quick walk around the woodland camping area anyway.

 

View to Seal Bay from woodland campsite

View to Seal Bay from woodland campsite

The one drawback of the camping area was that come dusk it would be absolutely infested by hordes of midges, given all the trees and lush vegetation. Given I was still feeling pretty good, and it wasn’t late, I decided to avoid the midges and get the ferry over to Mallaig, which at £4.00 was a bargain – bikes go free. I wanted to get the ferry, rather than go back over the Skye Bridge, as it avoided a long ride inland to get around to the coast again, and actually meant I’d see more of the coast.

 

Armadale harbour

Armadale harbour

Whilst waiting for the ferry my bike became the subject of interest for a group of French tourists travelling by coach. On this trip it seems to often be the French who have wanted to know how far I’ve cycled and about my bike; they must be in to their cycling in France. I chatted to a few of them for a while, practicing my rusty French again. They were amazed at how heavy my bike was, with various expressions of surprise uttered as they tried to lift it. After posing for a few photos the ferry arrived, and they had to get back on their coach, saving me from trying to explain anything further to them.

I boarded the ferry, cycling down the gangplank and tying my bike to a designated railing, which I was still finding pretty exciting. It’s only a 30 minute voyage over to Mallaig, but that was enough time to eat the rest of my baguette with some cheese, whilst admiring the view.

 

Looking back to Armadale

Looking back to Armadale

 

Ferry to Mallaig - sun still shining

Ferry to Mallaig – sun still shining

 

Across to Mallaig we go

Across to Mallaig we go

 

Arriving in Mallaig

Arriving in Mallaig

Upon arrival in Mallaig we disembarked in a mostly orderly fashion, aside from a few groups of foreign tourists who weren’t sure if they were supposed to walk off the boat or get back on their coach there and then, resulting in a minor amount of chaos on the vehicle deck. Whilst this was going on I took my opportunity and quickly cycled off, jumping ahead of the traffic. Mallaig looked like a nice place, the end of the A830 going north, with several shops, fish and chips and hotels, as well as a train station.

I took the road signposted to Fort William and Arisaig, hoping to find a campsite within the next 10 or so miles, or at least a good spot to wild camp. I took a brief detour through Morar, looking across to Loch Morar, before continuing down the coast road towards Arisaig through some stunning scenery.

 

Road to Arisaig 1

Road to Arisaig 1

 

Road to Arisaig 2

Road to Arisaig 2

 

Road to Arisaig 3

Road to Arisaig 3

Along the flatter coastal stretch I passed three potential campsites, two of which were sporting site full signs, the first time I’d encountered such a problem on this tour. This must be a popular bit of coastline, especially for kayakers, and with the good weather people had flocked out to spend their weekend here.

 

Coastline down to Arisaig

Coastline down to Arisaig

I arrived in Arisaig and bumped into a fellow tourer, doing Land’s End to John o’ Groats the long way round on a small wheeled but fully loaded bike. We chatted for a bit about our experiences to date, and he confirmed there were no campsites in the immediate area going south. He gave me a few tips on my route, and what to see on Mull if I went that way, and I vice versa on Skye, although he’d been in the area before having holidayed on Eigg with his family in the past – no cars on Eigg, just bikes. It was really pleasant sitting in the sunshine in Arisaig, with the Isles of Eigg and Rum just off the coast.

Post a pint in the village hotel, and buying a couple of dinner bits from the Spar, I cycled back to the Silver Sands campsite I’d passed earlier. It was the only one without a site full sign, and was in a lovely location. I stopped at the owner’s house on my way in and had a brief shouted conversation from where he was up in the garden, ascertaining it was fine to go and pitch my tent and we’d settle up in the morning. I found a great spot next to a mother and daughter having a weekend break, and a family of kayakers doing the same.

 

Camping spot at Silver Sands

Camping spot at Silver Sands

 

Camping spot at Silver Sands 2

Camping spot at Silver Sands 2

Post around an 85 mile ride I consumed a large dinner of more baguette, pork pie, cheese and fruit, in the peaceful setting, waiting for the sun to go down and watching oystercatchers and gulls wheel and dive over the sea. The oystercatchers seemed to be behaving a bit like starlings, flocking together at dusk and flying about in a noisy fashion before finding a spot to roost.

The only drawback to the site was the arrival of the midges, however the Avon lady seemed to keep them at bay before I retreated to my tent. The sunset was spectacular, only slightly spoiled by the arrival of some noisy, beer swilling Jordies who insisted on standing in everyone else’s view until this was pointed out to them. To give them credit they did move to one side and quietened a bit after that.

Lobster at sunset

Lobster at sunset


Sunset panorama

Sunset panorama


Sunset 1

Sunset 1


Sunset 2

Sunset 2


Sunset 3

Sunset 3


Sunset 4

Sunset 4

I have far too many pictures of his sunset.

Sun just about gone

Sun just about gone

On that note I’ll finish with some words of wisdom. When fumbling around in the dark in your tent, don’t try and use a pork pie as a torch !

Leg 37 – to Uig

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This is my second attempt at writing this blog post, having somehow deleted the first draft; a rather vexing experience when I’m already behind! 

Slightly slower day covering 47 miles.

06 June 2013

With my tent getting uncomfortably warm in the morning sunshine I guessed the weather was going to be good. Upon extricating myself from by sleeping bag and tent I discovered a cloudless sky, so decided against a rest day and to press on around Skye.

A few facts about Skye:

– It’s the largest of the Inner Hebrides

– It’s had people on it since the Mesolithic era

– It has some big hills called the Cuillens on it

– Norse folk lived here for a while, post there usual being a Viking antics

– Clan Macleod and Clan Donald controlled the island for a while

– There are lots of whisky distilleries

– Quite a lot of the residents speak Gaelic

– It’s very pretty, and home to lots of interesting animals and birds, including eagles and deer. Home to lots of sheep too but they’re not very interesting, and are stupid

I consumed a sizeable breakfast, showered and packed up, before bidding goodbye to Mal and the lone English motorbike tourer, setting off up the A87 towards Portree. I wanted to visit the bike shop there, the only one within a considerable distance, the next closest being in Fort William.

Beautiful day on Skye

Beautiful day on Skye

From Breakish I rode up to and through Dunan and Luib, with the Isles of Scalpay and Raasay just off the coast. With the isles to my right and mountains on my left, some still with snow on, the scenery was pretty fantastic.

Skye looking good

Skye looking good, with Raasay off the coast

The mild northerly wind made a few of the hills tough going around Luib and Sligachan, but I couldn’t complain about the weather. The Cuillins looked pretty impressive, dominating the centre of the island; I was glad the road mostly went around their edges.

One of the Cuillins

One of the Cuillins


 

View of Cuillins from Sligachan

View of Cuillins from Sligachan

I passed Skye’s only golf course, but was more interested in the Highland Cattle posing for photographs next to the road at one point. Loads of tourists had pulled over to take photos, so I joined them briefly. Whoever placed the cattle there could have made a pretty penny, and I was half expecting them to break into a routine, to be proceeded with a man coming round with a hat.

Posing Highland Cattle

Posing Highland Cattle

 

This one reminded me of Ludo from Labyrinth

This one reminded me of Ludo from Labyrinth

Post Sligachan I entered Glen Varrigall, and pedalled along the slightly undulating road, zoning out a bit thinking about movies including Black Hawk Down, V for Vendetta, and prompted by the Ludo-like cattle Labyrinth. I was interrupted from my musings my the roar of two Tornados flying over, practising some low level flying, which looked like fun as long as they didn’t hit any of the mountains. I guess they don’t have to contend with sheep lying in the road which must be a bonus.

Road to Portree

Road to Portree – through Glen Varragill


The A87 isn’t that pleasant a road to cycle down, despite the scenery, due to the large amounts of traffic a lot of which is heavy. You’re somewhat limited on road choice though, so I rode on, passing a Sea Eagle centre on the outskirts of Portree, as well as a meadow covered in Bluebells which looked quite striking.

Bluebell meadow

Bluebell meadow

The Sea Eagle centre may well be worth a visit, however I was keen to get to the bike shop, and would far rather see eagles in the wild; not that they had any in the centre as far as I’m aware. I reached Portree after about 2.5 hours cycling, covering 27 miles. I thought this was alright considering the hills and stops for photos.

Entrance to Portree Bay

Entrance to Portree Bay

After a bit of cycling about I found the bike shop, hidden down some stairs, however luckily there’s another way in from the coastal side which doesn’t mean you have to lift your bike up and down awkward steps. Island Cycles took a look at my back wheel, and agreed it wasn’t ideal for the bike and load I was carrying. Given I’d paid quite a bit for it, not that I had much choice given I’d been on Orkney at the time, I was determined to get some more miles out if the damned thing. Stuart managed to straighten the S buckle out of the wheel, giving it a temporary reprieve, however I’d need to keep an eye on it still. He also found a new grub screw for my rear brake pad, which would stop it slipping out if I rolled backwards with the brake on, win! So big thank you to Island Cycles.

Post the bike shop I had a quick look around Portree, and grabbed some lunch at the Granary Cafe in the town square. I must have looked a bit of a state with my oily and battered shins, grimy hands (which I proceeded to wash thorougly), plus slightly unkempt appearance, however I managed to get a seat for a bit and watched the multitude of tourists wandering about. From what I could hear there were people from France, Germany, Holland, maybe Russia, Japan and China, with regular coaches arriving to deposit more, or ferry folks away.

Portree High Street

Portree High Street

Lunch consisted of a nice chicken and bacon salad, however it was a little on the small side for a cycle tourer, with the advertised crusty bread consisting of an artfully sliced small piece of soft bread, nice but not filling. This got me thinking about opening a cycling themed bar/cafe again, with appropriately sized portions available, however it might be a bit niche. I had an emergency pork pie and snickers bar to provide additional sustenance before pedalling on.

The A87 continued up to Uig, 15 or so miles away. Despite the headwind it was an easier ride than the morning’s, with gentler hills, and I got my head down pedalling through Borve, and latterly Earlish, making Uig by 16.20. The 15 miles had taken about and hour and fifteen minutes, which again I was pleased with, legs must be getting stronger.

Looking down on Uig harbour

Looking down on Uig harbour


Uig

Uig


Uig panorama

Uig panorama

The campsite is right down by the ferry port, and suited me just fine being fairly quiet, and with a picnic table right next to my pitch – really nice to be able to sit down somewhere other than the floor sometimes. The Bakur Bar is only 200 yards down the road, and it was altogether a nice spot in the sunshine, so I started thinking about spending an extra day there. I needed a day off, having not had a totally cycle free day since setting off over a month ago. It would be good to rest and refuel, as well as catch up on my blog which was starting to fall behind (it’s still several days behind).

I had a chat with Martin the campsite owner, passing on greetings from Island Cycles whom they knew. Unaccustomed to finishing this early I set up, grabbed a shower, and got changed into ‘civvies’. It felt a bit odd wearing my other shoes again, but I was glad to justify having lugged them all this way. I normally just wear my Shimano cycling shoes, which are fine for walking around in too, the cleat being inset, but my trainers are more comfy.

Uig campsite - clouds rolling in over hills

Uig campsite – clouds rolling in over hills

Dressed and equipped with iPad, iPhone, journal and chargers, I set off for the Bakur Bar, where I spent the rest of the day catching up on emails, eating, my blog, chatting to the bar staff, and enjoying a few pints from the Skye Brewery just across the road – not many food miles on this ale, and very tasty. The bar serves good food, in decent portion sizes, has great views, and has free wifi, perfect.

Bakur Bar view 1

Bakur Bar view 1


Bakur Bar view 2

Bakur Bar view 2


Bakur Bar view 3

Bakur Bar view 3

I had buy some more space on the iCloud to upload my photos, didn’t want to lose any accidentally, and it’s quite cheap. Ended the day thinking this would definitely do for a day off, and slept very well.

Leg 35 – to Applecross

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04 June 2013

I awoke to a beautiful morning in Big Sand, with the sun chasing away the last of the overnight cloud. It looked like it was going to be a hot one so I made a mental note not to forget to put on sun cream. The cuckoo had kept going practically all night – I’d woken up at 1.30 and it was still being vocal, unless I dreamt it.

The campsite has excellent and fairly new looking facilities which I took a advantage of, having a shower post breakfast, then packing up. There’s also an onsite cafe which served breakfast, but I’d forgotten about that and already eaten by the time I passed it leaving. Before departure I had a quick walk down to the beach again, and checked on my back wheel which seemed fit for purpose.

Nice view in the morning across Loch Gairloch

Nice view in the morning across Loch Gairloch


From the campsite I rode back down the rode to Gairloch, stopping in the village for second breakfast, despite having only done 3 miles – I’d smelled bacon. I met the German biker couple coming out of the village shop armed with bacon rolls, as I went in to purchase the same – said goodbye and wished when well on their trip up North. I munched on a great bacon and egg roll, before going across the road to the Mountain Cafe for a decaf coffee, it was going to be a slow start to the day apparently.

The Mountain Cafe

The Mountain Cafe – Gairloch


The Mountain Coffee Company, using its proper name, is a great little Indie cafe with a bookshop attached to it. It has lots of interesting nooks and crannies filled with curious books, including some on cycle touring, expeditions etc, as well as lots of Bhuddas dotted around the place. I spent an hour there writing my blog and relaxing, before cycling off down the road to a nearby restaurant which the cafe owner informed me had a wifi hotspot I could use to upload a post.

Post a quick lemonade at the restaurant, I prepared to get back on my bike but realised I was missing a rear brake pad, my temporary fix having broken. I had to cycle back to the the coffee shop scanning the road in an attempt to find it, figuring it had probably fallen out when I manoeuvred my heavy bike in the car park there. I was lucky to find it there, with the help of the keen eyed cafe owner, and duly slotted it back in. It won’t fall out unless I apply the brakes whilst rolling backwards, at which point it slides out because the grub screw is missing; another thing to keep an eye on until I can get a new screw. Whilst reinserting it I did a quick spoke check again, all good.

Loch Gairloch with Gairloch on the right

Loch Gairloch with Gairloch on the right

 

Gairloch Village

Gairloch Village


I finally got on the road properly about 12.30, and cycled down the A832 through Charlestown to Loch Maree, up quite a long climb before a nice flattish ride alongside the loch.

Harbour at Charlestown

Harbour at Charlestown

The road alongside the loch stretches on for several miles, ending in the Beinn Eighe National Park. It was a lovely ride through more forest consisting of silver birch, ash, beech, pine and a few oaks, amongst no doubt lots of other species I didn’t identify immediately. As usual the sound of cuckoos accompanied me down the road, and I even spotted one sitting on a telephone line.

Loch Maree

Loch Maree

 

Loch Maree 2

Loch Maree 2


I stopped for a break in the National Park and chatted to another cycle tourer who’d been on the road since mid March, after quitting his job. In his early 60’s he was touring around the UK stopping whenever he saw something interesting, sounded like a nice plan, although he’d had some pretty bad weather back in the earlier months. He was averaging about 35 miles a day rather than my 65 so got to see a lot more, but I had to get back to Norwich by the end of July so didn’t have that luxury.

Beinn Eighe National Park

Beinn Eighe National Park

 

Beinn Eighe National Park and Loch Maree

Beinn Eighe National Park and Loch Maree


It was a bit strange at the national park, with a coach load of Japanese tourists hovering about, and lots of cars and minibus tours, with people taking pictures. It felt like I was heading back into civilisation and busy roads, and I wasn’t sure I liked it, despite the allure of more shops and pubs! A least the weather was getting warmer which was a good trade off.

I rode on to Kinlochewe where I turned right on to the A896 to Torridon, riding down Glen Torridon and making good time on the gently undulating road. The road runs roughly alongside the river, though some impressive mountains, and is single track for the most part so there was a bit of stop-starting in passing places as camper vans and lorries trundled towards or past me. It was quite a busy road with lots of motorbike tourers again, as well as quite a few hikers and fishermen about. Thankfully drivers were still being careful around me and my wide load; I aught to get a wide load sticker somewhere!

Ride down Glen Torridon

Ride down Glen Torridon


 

Ride down Glen Torridon - Beinn Eighe mountains

Ride down Glen Torridon – Beinn Eighe mountains


I met a Hungarian cycle tourer riding down to Torridon too. She had a penant flying off the back of her bike which I was slightly jealous of. She was cycling around the Highlands for a couple of weeks raising money for Cancer Research, and we had a quick chat whilst riding along – apparently Hungary is a lot flatter, and she’d covered a lot of the same bits of the North Coast I had so we compared notes before I pushed on to Torridon. 

I had a quick look around Torridon and a toilet break, before taking the road to Shieldaig and nearly getting flattened by an impatient delivery truck driver at one point, my first case of dubious driving in a while.

View of Upper Loch Torridon, from Torridon

View of Upper Loch Torridon, from Torridon


As I rode around the coast to Shieldaig the territory got progressively more hilly and leg taxing, but I’d had a fairly easy day up until then so didn’t feel too tired. Shieldaig is a lovely village and very picturesque. I stopped at the hotel bar for a drink and hopefully some food. They weren’t serving food until 18.00, so I settled for bag of crisps alongside a pint of cider, the warm day making me want something cold to drink.

Shieldaig village

Shieldaig village


The bar was being run by a New Zealand medical student on a gap year, touring around Europe. I think it’s a universal constant that wherever you go they’ll generally be a Kiwi bar person in the vicinity. I did a quick mental check to see if I had any injuries I needed advice on, but everything was working correctly, although my shins still looked a bit battered from pedal hits. He’s from Christchurch where an Uncle of Lu’s lives, so we talked about the recent earthquake there, sinking houses and cardboard cathedrals, as well as travelling. He warned me about the danger of ticks, his brother having picked one up the day before in the area – he was touring too but working elsewhere. A couple of Australians turned up shortly after I’d arrived and joined our conversation. They were touring down the West Coast by car, and flying back to Oz via Bangkok in a few days time, which sounded like an attractive proposition. I left after 45 minutes needing to push on, and as the conversation turned to sport, rugby and Aussie rules football, with associated New Zealand v’s Australia rivalry emerging. A nice stop and weird running into more antipodian people than natives in a remote Sottish village.

Shieldaig Bar

Shieldaig Bar


The road definitely got steeper after Shieldaig, with some challenging hills but fantastic views on the way to Ardheslaig. The Kiwi barman/medical student had told me there were sea eagles in the area so I kept an eye out, but didn’t see any. I broke into song a few times to help get up the hills, mostly Queen tracks today, which are quite vocally challenging incidentally. I’m sure the sheep appreciated my efforts although Barcelona may have left something to be desired, and probably kept the sea eagles away.

Looking back to Shieldaig

Looking back to Shieldaig

 

Another small inlet on the way to Ardheslaig

Another small inlet on the way to Ardheslaig


With slightly aching legs I rode past Kenmore, Arina and Fearnmore, on a road that wasn’t built until the 1970’s, before turning south and leaving Loch Torridon behind. The gradients got a little less steep as I rode alongside the Inner Sound between the mainland and Raasay and the Isle of Skye, although there were still plenty of ups and downs. The sun came out again giving a great view over to the Inner Hebrides, somewhere I hoped of be in a couple of days time. As I rode, and prompted by the earlier conversation in Shieldaig, I pondered what an adventure it would be to cycle all the way to New Zealand, through Europe, Turkey, the Middle East, India and Asia. I’d have to rent my house out and work out a way to fund it, writing maybe, or sponsorship, or stopping to work along the way, but it would be amazing to cycle all that way through such a diverse range of cultures and landscapes. One to ponder some more; one thing for sure is that I’d need a new back wheel before embarking on such a journey!

View across Inner Sound towards Skye

View across Inner Sound towards Skye

 

Another great view

Another great view


Sand dune running up to cliff

Sand dune running up to cliff


Applecross Bay 1 - cool clouds

Applecross Bay 1 – cool clouds


Applecross Bay 2 - sunshine extraordinaire

Applecross Bay 2 – sunshine extraordinaire

I finally turned the corner after one last significant ascent, heading East into Applecross Bay, with Applecross’ white buildings gleaming in the sunshine at its far end. As I rode down the hill towards the village, a large bird of prey flew over and landed in the grass further up the mountain. It had the right wing shape and was the right colour to be a golden eagle, but didn’t look big enough, so I thought it was probably a buzzard. I later learned that there were some juvenile eagles in the area, so maybe that’s what I saw.

Applecross

Applecross

Applecross panorama

Applecross panorama

I arrived at the campsite at about 19.30, having covered around 67 miles which I was pleased with, and that doesn’t include going backwards and forwards at one point. I’d got into the zone more today, so the miles had seemed to pass more quickly despite some long climbs with fairly steep gradients, thinking about expeditions in foreign climes, books and movies, and wondering what was going on in Norwich, and very briefly at work. The climbs were all good practice for tomorrow and the dreaded Bealach-Na-Ba, which was going to take some effort. I was glad my back wheel had held out, with no more loose spokes I could find, although it was a bit wonky.

Me looking pretty hot

Me looking pretty hot – sweaty that is


Applecross campsite is great, with an on site restaurant called the Flower Tunnel where I had chilli and nachos, followed by a large pizza; I was mega hungry and needed to carb load for tomorrow. The staff are really friendly and helpful, and let me charge up my mobile and Power Monkey battery pack that I still need to get a new lead for, to connect to the solar panel. I planned to order one online and get it delivered to Loch Melfort, where my parents have a time share, although I might just be able to find one in Fort William.

There was no mobile reception to speak of at the campsite, so I decided to try buying Internet access via the Highland wifi network. It’s a bit expensive so not something I want to do very often, but it worked fairly well, despite logging me off the network frequently and then not letting me back on until I reset my browser. It allowed me to catch up on emails and do some planning, as well as have a quick FaceTime call with my brother and sister-in-law, but it wouldn’t let me transfer photos off my phone onto my iPad as I could only have one device logged in at a time – I can see why but it was a bit irritating.

Given the superb weather and location I considered having a day off and resting up. I’d ridden over 2,000 miles so was nearly halfway, and hadn’t had a day of absolutely no cycling since setting off from Norwich over a month ago. I start to feel slightly anxious if I don’t progress even a small way each day, so I put off a decision until the morning, retreating to my tent to get away from the midges which were starting to appear now. I realised I’d have to careful of sunburn as well as insect bites, having noticed a few slightly burned patches on my legs – sock line. Itchy insect bites and sunburn would be a pretty bad combination to endure.

I’d received an email from a friend at work, with a poem I thought I’d include to finish today. As always great to receive encouragement and know that people are finding my blog interesting, or even inspiring to a degree, so thanks Dave.

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.
No time to turn at Beauty’s glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.
A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

Leg 34 – to Gairloch and the Big Sands Campsite

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A 59 mile stint, despite a late start.

03 June 2013

After a slightly hazy start to the morning due to the whisky consumed the previous evening, I had a quick breakfast and got down to the business of the day, which first involved mending my rear wheel.

I had to take the wheel off again, remove the tyre and find the spoke nipple, before reattaching the whole thing, a messy job. I then spent about 30 minutes carefully trying to straighten the wheel without over tightening the spokes. It’s a tricky job but I managed to get it vaguely straight without anything going ping, and the wheel rotating without rubbing against the brake blocks, a result in my books. I’d still need to find a bike shop to get it professionally straightened and the spokes tightened, however the next shop I’d pass wasn’t going to be until Portree on the Isle of Skye; even if I diverted inland there were none closer. My administrations would just have to suffice for the time being.

Having spent a while on the bike, then getting a shower and packing up, I missed the 10.30 ferry to Stornaway. On reflection I decided this was probably a good thing, as I wanted to get further down the coast with a lot of Scotland left to do. I could always catch the ferry from Oban across to Barra at a later stage, depending on how I was time wise. I had a quick trip to a supermarket to restock on a few supplies, having run out of shampoo for starters but also needing breakfast stuff, then had a ride around Ullapool, which is well worth a visit even if you’re not catching the ferry.

The ferry I just missing, leaving it's berth

The ferry I just missed, leaving it’s berth

 

Rowing skiff out practicing in the bay

Rowing skiff out practicing in the bay

As I rode along the seafront a couple of Tornados roared through over the bay, practicing some low level flying by the looks of it – almost another Top Gun moment.

Looking out along Loch Broom towards the Hebs

Looking out along Loch Broom towards the Hebs

 

Bike post restocking at supermarket

Bike post restocking at supermarket – banana and baguette accessories

Before leaving Ullapool I had an early lunch at the Ferry Boat Inn, who serve a great sausage bap. Food photos are for my Japanese readers to give them an idea of ‘traditional’ Scottish fare, although I’m not convinced that usually involves salad.

Ferry Inn - sausage bap

Ferry Boat Inn – sausage bap

 

View from Ullapool across Loch Broom

View from Ullapool across Loch Broom

 

The Ferry Boat Inn

The Ferry Boat Inn


I hit the road south at 13.00, with at least a 55 mile leg in front of me which I hoped wasn’t going to be too mountainous. I wasn’t too worried as it stays light so late, and would be alright as long as I didn’t encounter any significant wheel trouble. 

From Ullapool I cruised down the A835 alongside Loch Broom. Aside from the traffic, which consisted of some big lorries, it was a nice ride through woodland with bigger trees for a change. This section ended with a big climb up the Corrieshalloch Gorge, with the weather deteriorating I turned on to the A832 to follow the coast.

Riding up towards Corrieshalloch Gorge - bigger trees

Riding up towards Corrieshalloch Gorge – bigger trees but weather deteriorating


I stopped at the Falls of Messach, and walked down to the gorge and Victorian suspension bridge. The gorge is startling, and the bridge over it wobbles quite a bit when there’s more than one person on it. I decided not to bounce up and down as I didn’t want to upset anyone, or cause them to fly into the depths of the gorge.

Road bridge over the Gorge, before reaching the falls

Road bridge over the Gorge, before reaching the falls


 

Falls of Messach - Victorian suspension bridge

Falls of Messach – Victorian suspension bridge


 

Corrieshalloch Gorge

Corrieshalloch Gorge


 

Falls of Messach - looking down on them from suspension bridge

Falls of Messach – looking down on them from suspension bridge


In a fit of enthusiasm I ran back up the path to my bike, something I’d no doubt pay for later. With the rain closing in I progressed up a gradual but on reflection long climb in the shadow of Meall An T-Sithe – I don’t know if that means anything specific but it sounds cool. 

View back towards Ullapool

View back towards Ullapool


 The roads takes you up pretty high, and I passed quite a few patches of snow further up the mountain – they weren’t that much further up the mountain.

Road over the top - snow on mountains

Road over the top – snow on mountains


 

Low cloud and rain ahead, was going to get wet

Low cloud and rain ahead, was going to get wet


I felt like I was on the road to Mordor at this stage, with the fairly bleak landscape and weather closing in. At least it wasn’t winter when this road must get closed by snow fairly regularly. And at least the weren’t any Orcs or Uruk’hai chasing me, although couldn’t be absolutely sure of that. A lot of the place names around here sound very Tolkien, and surely provided him with some of his inspiration.

Having travelled upwards for so long there followed a remarkably long descent down to Dundonnell, that seemed to go on forever, but did take me down into more verdant territory, with the first flowering rhododendrons I’d seen this year providing a stark contrast to the trees and mountains. I free wheeled down most of the way, at quite some speed, just hoping my back wheel held out. The downhill section was only slightly marred by another cold shower, however I didn’t bother putting my waterproof on as it was protecting a couple of baguettes I’d bought earlier and attached to my rear rack cargo net. I’d rather have gotten wet than be eating soggy baguettes later. As it was I was pretty much blown dry by the time I reached the bottom, and the sun came out.

The descent to Dundonnell

The descent to Dundonnell


 

Rhododendrons

Rhododendrons

I stopped outside the Dundonnell Hotel and ate a pork pie and some fruit I’d bought earlier, as well as some chocolate, chatting with the only other cyclist I’d seen all day; a lone tourer on his last couple of days around the Highlands. He was about to go home before packing his car and going to the Isle of Skye where he had a cottage for the week. He was staying at the bunkhouse just up the road from Dundonnell, and hadn’t been camping, hence had a lot less kit. Got me thinking I ought to try the occasional bunkhouse. We agreed the hills around here had been an ‘interesting’ challenge before parting ways, wishing each other the best of luck and the wind at your back etc etc.

Continuing along the coast there followed another long climb up to Gruinard Bay, with Gruinard Island in the middle of it. The  island was the site of Anthrax tests during the Second World War, both with a view to dealing with such an attack from Germany, or launching an attack versus them. Happily neither occurred but the island was contaminated for years afterwards, not being declared safe until 1990. It’s safe now, but uninhabited aside from sheep, who haven’t keeled over. Apparently the original owners were able to buy it back for £500 once it was declared safe, the price agreed with the government during the war.

Gruinard Bay and Island

Gruinard Bay and Island


There followed another long climb out of Gruinard, the steepest of the day. I made it up despite my chain slipping off at one point; I wonder if I’ll need to replace my gear cassettes soon too. I rode on passing through Laide and Aultbea as the narrow road dipped and turned, past more great scenery including deserted beaches, cliffs and patches of pine forest.

Road around to Laide

Road around to Laide


 

Passing over more mountain streams

Passing over more mountain streams


 

Deserted beaches

Deserted beaches

Aultbea is quite a sizeable village, with the Isle of Ewe in the centre of the bay – Loch Ewe. There looked to be houses on the Isle as well, probably farms by the looks of it. The sea was flat calm today and it had been lovely riding so far, despite the hills and occasional shower. I put it down to there being no headwind, which really makes a difference to your morale as well as your speed. I’d also only had to tighten one spoke so far so must have been doing something right.

Loch Ewe, with Aultbea on the right, and the Isle of Ewe in the centre

Loch Ewe, with Aultbea on the right, and the Isle of Ewe in the centre

 

Aultbea

Aultbea

 

Poolewe

Poolewe

I rode on to Poolewe, where followed another long ascent before finally riding down into Gairloch. I stopped at a general store to buy some Branston Pickle that I’d started craving for some reason, before turning right up the B8021, through Gairloch itself, and on to Big Sand where there’s a campsite. Gairloch is a nice looking town and I thought I’d stop at one of the cafes on the way back through tomorrow.

The ride alongside Loch Gairloch was really magical, with the sun coming out, the sea flat calm, no traffic to speak of on the gently undulating road, and no headwind. Sitting up in the saddle I relaxed and rode the last 3 miles admiring the view, but forgetting to take any photos, accompanied by the odd cuckoo and a few ducks out on the water, and only interrupted from my reverie when I rumbled over the odd cattle grid; they always worry me as they rattle my wheels around.

The campsite at Big Sand is set right against the seashore, amongst the dunes covered in Marram Grass. It was really peaceful, it not being the school holidays, and I had plenty of space to find a spot for my tent. Having arrived at 19.30, covering 59 miles in the end, reception was closed so I’d settle up in the morning again. 

With my tent set up I proceeded to feast on baguettes, Crowdie cheese left over from yesterday, ham, pork pie, Branston pickle, tomatoes, a banana, two cookies, a twix and some peanuts…I didn’t think it excessive. Just about sated I went for a walk on the beach and sat with a beer on a dune for a while, just letting the calm atmosphere wash over me. It was a great spot just to relax, gazing out across the slightly misty loch towards mountains in the distance. I hoped to see some dolphins or a whale, but there were only seabirds out on the water as far as I could see. I walked down to the waters edge thinking how much Lucy would have liked it here, so I built a small cairn near the dunes to mark the spot for her.

Big Sand and Loch Gairloch

Big Sand and Loch Gairloch

 

Dunes covered in Marram Grass

Dunes covered in Marram Grass

 

View back to campsite and my tent

View back to campsite and my tent

 

Beautiful view across loch towards mountains of Skye

Beautiful view across loch towards mountains of Skye

 

Low tide at Loch Gairloch

Low tide at Loch Gairloch

 

Waves gently lapping on the shore

Waves gently lapping on the shore

 

Pebbles at Big Sand

Pebbles at Big Sand

 

Cairn to mark the spot for Lu

Cairn to mark the spot for Lu

 

With seaweed attachment for artistic purposes

With seaweed attachment for artistic purposes

Wandering back to my tent I met a German couple touring by motorbike – one of the many sets of German bikers I’ve passed up here. We had a good chat about our rides so far; they’re off up north to Cape Wrath, with me heading south. Karl had been there before and agreed it was much more impressive than John o’Groats. They also informed me they had a friend who was a local whale watcher, who says that the whales and dolphins weren’t coming in yet as there’s little in the way of plankton due to the late spring and it being cold for longer. This means for example the fish the dolphins feed on (mackerel) haven’t come in, as they in turn haven’t got as much to feed on, all part of the food chain. We also had a chat about the relative state of the economies in both countries, Karl reckoning that things weren’t as good as people think in Germany, with a lot of people on very low income jobs (400 Euro jobs); he was certainly concerned about what would happen if he lost his job, being nearly 50 which does make a difference to your employability, despite it not being supposed to.

Turning in for the night I chilled out listening to some music for a while (Abney Park). The cuckoo I’d heard earlier still going strong at 23.30 when I fell asleep. It was so peaceful I could have stayed for a while, but I needed to make my way down to Applecross, before crossing over Bealach-Na-Ba (pass of the cattle) and on to Skye.

Sun going down at campsite

Sun going down at campsite


Sunset at Big Sands

Sunset at Big Sands – the colours were actually much more dramatic than this picture shows


Sunset at Big Sand 2

Sunset at Big Sand 2

Thanks to Nigel and Rich for the texts today, helped get me up some big hills!

Leg 33 – to Ullapool

1 Reply

Getting to grips with these hills now, or so I thought.  Check out the route here and the elevation changes – http://connect.garmin.com/course/3779409

02 June 2013

Ferreting around in my panniers I realised I needed to buy more breakfast stuff, but it was Sunday and all the shops were closed in Scourie; I keep forgetting most shops close in Scotland on Sundays, or are only open for a couple of hours, but I kind of like that. Luckily I still had some cheese and flapjack left which was more than adequate and set me up nicely for a morning’s pedalling.

Beautiful day in Scourie

Beautiful day in Scourie


Feeling a lot more buoyant than yesterday I gave the bike the once over, and finding no further faults I hit the road about 10.00. I knew today was going to be a tough day, with some big hills on the coast road, but also some fantastic scenery which would hopefully help distract from the leg pain and straining lungs.

Up for the days ride

Up for the days ride, albeit with spikey hair


From Scourie I rode down the A894 to Unapool, accompanied along the way by the sound of cuckoos. I think there must have been some kind of cuckoo-off going on. I’ve never heard as many cuckoos as I have on the West coast of Scotland, where they are certainly not rare. It was nice riding along more forested roads (Duartmore Forest) of pine and birch, especially in the sunshine which brought everything to life.

Moving towards mountains I'd be passing a bit later

Moving towards mountains I’d be passing a bit later

Just before Unapool I passed out of Mackay country and over a large bridge between two lochs.

Bridge leaving Mackay country

Bridge leaving Mackay country

I stopped in Unapool for a break at a roadside cafe/gift shop where I had a pot of peppermint tea and a fruit scone, very civilised. Chatted to a couple of other touring cyclists on their way North, as well as the elderly owner; the latter spoke rather quickly and a lot, so much so it was hard to get a word in edge ways, but she was lovely and we agreed that the roadworks in Inverness were challenging. I think we agreed that anyway.

Post Unapool I turned right on to the B869, where the hills really started, and judging from the little chevrons on the map they were going to persist. Still, at least there was no headwind to speak of so all good in my books. I have a theory that the terrain and hills in particular are honest, even if they are haggis humping humongous hills, whilst the weather is dishonest, the wind changing direction all the time and more often than being in your face. The weather in Scotland can also change quickly, in the mornings being all sunshine and smiles, but by the afternoon the clouds have rolled in bringing the rain and a chill.

After a feisty 8 or 9 miles I arrived in Drumbeg, having ridden over some fairly dramatic hills that even the touring motorbikes were straining on. I was glad I cycled down the 25% hill.

25% hill!

25% hill! Glad I was going down this 


 

Coastline pretty stunning in places

Coastline pretty stunning in places


 

Challenging climbs at times

Challenging climbs included in the package 


 

Hidden harbours

Hidden harbours 


 

Pigs on the road warning

Pigs on the road warning – sign may be one of a kind 


 

Could almost be the Med coast at times

Could almost be the Med coast at times – but too green

I stopped in Drumbeg at a tea shop that doubled as a pottery and soap shop. It smelt lovely and I realised I probably didn’t. I chilled out in the tiny but completely sheltered garden for 20 mins, enjoying a hot chocolate and slice of carrot and passion fruit cake – got to keep the carb loading going. The garden, scented by the lavender bushes, was tranquil and warm, and I could have sat there for ages reading a book, or playing with the cat that turned up expectantly. If felt like summer had finally arrived in that garden, after the cold weather of previous weeks, with bees busy buzzing around the flowers.

Drumbeg hot chocolate stop - lovely garden

Drumbeg hot chocolate stop – lovely garden

Dragging myself away from the garden I rode through the rest of the village, stopping at the general store/deli to buy a baguette, some Crowdie soft cheese, and a packet of dried bananas for emergency energy boosts. Post eating the whole baguette and most of the cheese I rode on, stopping at the viewpoint where I briefly chatted to a couple touring by car; I’d see them several more times during the day.

Drumbeg viewpoint

Drumbeg viewpoint

I rode on past Oldany Island to Stoer, with the worst of the hills done, then around to Clachtoll, past numerous sandy beaches, inland lochs and sheep. The terrain was by no means flat, but at least I didn’t have any more 15% or 20% leg breaking hills to pedal up in the immediate future, or so I hoped. This was truly the hilliest leg I’d done to date. Coupled with that there were sheep and lambs strewn across the road at times, often just lying there enjoying the sunshine, and frequently nearly causing accidents. Despite shouting at them long before I got close they often refused to move until the last minute, and then were completely random in the direction they’d choose. “Stupid animals” I thought, not for the first time.

Deserted sandy beaches

Deserted sandy beaches – probably surfable in bigger swells


I stopped around Rhicarn at the viewpoint to check on my spokes, and for a break. A couple more spokes needed tightening, confirming my theory this was going to be a bit of a constant job. I was going to have to be careful not to over-tighten them though, and screw the wheel. It looked like it was likely to buckle anyway and I’d need to find a bike shop and a replace it at some point; it’s too lightweight for touring. There were a couple of German cycle tourers at the viewpoint who I had a brief conversation with, although their English was limited and my German worse. They had trailers which I admired them for, heading as they were the other way towards the hills I’d struggled up earlier. They waved me off and I wished them good luck.

Rhicarn viewpoint

Rhicarn viewpoint


I careered down from the viewpoint waving to a group of cyclists pedalling up it from the other direction, that I thought I recognised from some other stop on the tour. They seemed to recognise me anyway saying “hello again” from their sleek and unloaded road bikes, although I noted that they were struggling slightly up the hill; the disadvantage of only using your bike for short day trips and transporting it around on the back of your camper van the rest of the time, less stamina. It was a nice ride down to Lochinver along the windy road, through patches of trees and moorland. As I was riding alongside the harbour I heard a car horn beep and waved to the couple who I’d been running into all day again, think they might have been stalking me.

Lochinver

Lochinver


Despite there being a few attractive looking eateries in Lochinver I pressed on, still having quite a distance to ride to Ullapool. The hills started again as I pedalled over to Inverkerkaig, with its wide shingle bay. I stopped to admire the view and eat some Tangfastics to get some energy back – still slightly addicted! Had to tighten yet another spoke too.

Inverkerkaig

Inverkerkaig – Tangfastics break


The one track minor roads continued, complete with oblivious sheep, as I rode through lots of scrubby silver birch, past lochs and alongside mountain streams carving their way through the landscape. It felt like a remote and wild location to be cycling through, and I was slightly nervous my rear wheel was going to break leaving me stranded and having to walk out. There were a few people out wild camping with their kayaks so I could have just hooked up with them for the evening, and probably had a great time, however the wheel continued to hold out.

Riding past mountain streams

Riding past mountain streams


 

And mountain moorland

And mountain moorland with gorse in bloom


A one point a small herd of red deer ran out in front of me, crossing the road and leaping the fence on the other side. I think we startled each other and they soon disappeared up the mountain. Passing close to Lock Sionasgaig, and up another big ascent, I then free wheeled down to Loch Bad a’ Ghaill, where I turned left back towards the main road that would take me to Ullapool. I was tempted to turn right and go up to Rubha Mor and Reiff, with the Summer Isles off the coast, but it was effectively a dead end, and whilst wild camping would have been great up there I was still worried about the bike. I’d probably get to see the Summer Isles from the ferry to the Outer Hebrides if I decided to go that way, depending on time available.

I pedalled alongside the loch, under the looming presence of the Stac Pollaidh mountain, stopping at Loch Lurgainn for another Haribos break where I chatted to a couple visiting from Lanarkshire. He was thinking of climbing Stac Pollaidh, which he’d painted a few years back, and we spoke for a while about places visited and still to see. You meet some great people on the road.

Stac Pollaidh

Stac Pollaidh

There were a few people wild camping alongside the loch again, with small campfires and the enticing smell of barbecues. It looks like a great spot to spend the night. It’s such a shame you can’t legally wild camp in England, but I guess it would result in parts of the countryside being ruined by irresponsible individuals; mind you such individuals shouldn’t spoil it for everyone else. England should have the same right to roam rules as Scotland.

Loch Lurgainn

Loch Lurgainn

 

Loch Lurgainn and Stac Pollaidh

Loch Lurgainn and Stac Pollaidh

With my sights set on Ullapool I pedalled on, turning right on to the A835. On tired legs I rode down to Ardmair, and then on to Ullapool, with a couple of large hills that nearly finished me off. I’d have climbed them easily earlier in the day, but both my bike and I were creaking by this point, and you can only go so far on Haribos. 

Coast off Ardmair

Coast off Ardmair

The final descent down into Ullapool was a welcome sight, and I gently free wheeled down resting my limbs. I passed a really helpful sign at the bottom of the hill, which in my tied state started me giggling. It wasn’t going to help me find the campsite but a considerate passerby pointed me in the right direction, obviously slightly concerned at my apparent hysteria.

Helpful sign

Helpful sign

I arrived at the Broomfields campsite, where reception was closed but I’d settle up in the morning. They’re often closed by the time I arrive. It’s another nice campsite with views out over the bay, and was quite busy, I guess because of the ferry over to Stornaway.

After setting up my tent I checked my bike and noticed another loose spoke, where the nipple had disappeared inside the rim. After a small amount of cursing I made the strategic decision to mend it the morning, requiring food above anything else right at that moment. I had a wander round Ullapool, along the seafront, where there are several pubs and restaurants to choose from. I ended up at the Seaforth Inn as it was the most convenient and looked busy, always a good sign. It was also boasting award winning seafood. I had the soup followed by smoked haddock and black pudding risotto, which was delicious. I felt slightly guilty for not cooking again, I dare say I could of but felt knackered, and with such fine cuisine and ale nearby couldn’t resist. I was briefly joined at my table by a couple of students studying geology up here – good place for it. We chatted for a bit, them ordering the cheap but tasty burger option – student budget and all that.

Smoked haddock and black pudding risotto at the Seaforth Inn

Smoked haddock and black pudding risotto at the Seaforth Inn

Post dinner I adjourned to the Arch Inn to write up my journal, plus I really had to get a blog update done and needed to find a wifi outlet to transfer the photos from my phone to my iPad. The Arch Inn was fairly lively, showing the England versus Brazil game which I think ended up a draw, a decent result. I was somewhat distracted having bumped into a group of Irish gentlemen, out hill walking from Dublin for a few days. Whisky ensued.

Somewhat unsteadily I made it back to my tent after a challenging but great day’s ride. I was satisfied I’d made it up all those hills without having to push, and covered around 65 miles, but annoyed about my back wheel. I’d check it in the morning and then make a decision about the Outer Hebrides.

Night sky in Ullapool

Night sky in Ullapool – still not really dark at midnight