It was somewhat fitting today that I rode the last twenty miles of my lejo'g into the setting sun. It gave a warm glow to what has been a fantastic experience. It was also fitting that the same run into Thurso was into a block twenty mile an hour headwind. Riding a lejo'g may be a fantastic experience, but it's also bloody hard.
I was lucky with the weather today. I set off from Tain in the pouring rain, but the wind was squarely behind me from the south west, and it was a good strong wind too. Gradually the intervals between the heavy showers grew longer than the showers themselves; from the optimistic cyclists perspective that's glass half full territory.
From the Durnoch Bridge crossing just north of Tain, there is only one option for the end to end rider and that's the A9 that hugs the coast. It's not a picture postcard landscape with wild moors and a grey sea, and it's obviously a hard land to live in with squat, one storey buildings that keep low to withstand the weather.
There's a sequence of three or four decent climbs, each one lower than the next. At the summit of the last I stopped in a tiny tearoom amongst some original crofters cottages. It was a busy little place, predominantly with locals catching up on the gossip. The scone was of such a good quality, I had to stay to see if the pineapple and sultana loaf came to the same standard.
The closer you get to John O'Groats, the more bleak the landscape becomes. For me it also coincided with a prolonged and intense shower and I just wanted to get there. The rain continued as I made my way up the famous "last hill", built by mother nature merely to taunt end to end cyclists. Of course the sun came out as I crested the rise, and I was blessed with a triumphant descent down to the long awaited signpost.
There was no welcoming party or brass band, just some mildly curious tourists, but that was no disappointment to me. From the outset this was about the journey not the destination. I stopped for a large coffee and warmed myself with my self satisfaction.
Turning into the headwind for the ride to Thurso I cursed, but quite quickly I began to enjoy those last miles. The job was done, there was no time pressure and I could just take things in. Nine days of riding, over a thousand mile ribbon across the country, including some favourite roads and some previously unexplored, is a rare treat and one I shan't forget.
That smile says it all! Super job Michael!!
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