Off the Back

Ciclitalia Day 2.

The day didn't start too well ; a misjudgement on the size of a grate at a junction saw my front wheel slide, very gracefully, into the drain and deposited me, ungracefully, over the bars. No harm to me, but a slight buckle in the front wheel and the recall of Sam and the van for a spare.

The pace was lively today which didn't present too many problems in the first 30 miles. Unfortunately when we hit a few hills, that McVities habit of mine started to come into play and I slid off the back. It was something of a pattern ; slide off the back and push to get back on. You have to work as hard as you can to stay in touch, but there's no way you can push beyond your limits for long.

On the two decent climbs of the day (600 ft and 1500 ft) I just concentrated on keeping my heart rate under control on what was a very hot day (35c). So I twiddled my way up the hills, thankful that I haven't yet pissed the whole group off enough that they don't wait at the top.

The sliding off the back on climbs thing is then compounded a little by the fact I've become a tentative descender and slip off the back on the descents too. I know I'm over cautious, but I just don't want to suffer the consequences of pushing too hard. It just means yet another extra effort at the bottom to get back on.

All that aside, it was another glorious day.  There were contrasting coffee stops, the first in a cool and spacious restaurant right on the beach and the second in a deli/mini-mart where we all stuck into freshly made ham and cheese sandwiches.

The drop down into Messina went from tree lined roads and cobbled hairpins into the scruffy traffic chaos of the city.  I'm not sure which needed the sharper wits.

Day 2: 92 miles,  4,770ft, 25.4 avg.

Ciclitalia Day 1

Ciclitalia 2017 - a two week ride from Palermo in Sicily to Como in Lombardia starts today. After arriving late last night and a hairy taxi ride from the airport, I'm still awake early. Leaning out of the widow of the B&B, I watch the swallows (or maybe they're swifts) zooming in, around and over the backstreet. They chirrup and squawk as they chase each other around, much as the eleven riders do as we sort out the bikes and load bags onto the van.

We finally roll out of Palermo at 10:00 after sorting out the group shot by the marina. Once we'd negotiated the traffic to the outskirts of Palermo, (at least the Italian drivers are predictably unpredictable) the day settled into steady riding along the beautiful northern coast road of Sicily.

It's lovely day. It's the culmination of months of planning and logistics, but other than for the fact were all riding on our classy azzuri blue Ciclitalia kit, you'd think it an unremarkable day. There's relaxed chatting, coffee stops and the inevitable puncture or two, but it's just a typical ride with old friends and new. The hot sunshine is moderated by the breeze of cruising along and unfamiliar sights and sounds spark the conversation.

All in all an unremarkably remarkable day; free to enjoy all the pleasures of riding a bike. It certainly bodes well for the next 14 days.

Palermo to Santo Stefano di Camastro
70 miles, 2700ft, 16.6mph avg.

A Rare Treat

LEJO'G Day Nine: Tain to John O'Groats

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.

Coast to Coast

LEJO'G Day Eight: Barcaldine to Tain

The landscape of Scotland is wonderful to travel through at the pace of a bicycle. There's time to appreciate the environment around you and your certainly closer to it than in a car. The disadvantage is that the mountains are a natural constraint, so there's often only one route from A to B and that means traffic. Even at the end of the tourist season there are still lots of cars and while the majority are considerate, the overall impact is reduce your enjoyment of what should be some great riding.

The day started well. Jacqui and Angus rode with me for a mile or two and saw me onto a new cycle path from Oban to Fort William. It was a chilly morning, but quiet and calm. As the path came close to the loch, I drew up alongside a heron as it flew just 20 feet to my left. I slowed down to match its pace and watched as every languid downbeat of its wings grazed its own reflection on the mirror smooth loch. Magical. Eventually it broke the spell and shaped to land in that ungainly fashion of big birds.

Within a few miles I was no longer able to glide on the smooth cycle paths and had to mix with the cars again (perhaps also in an ungainly fashion?).

It didn't occur to me until I reached the sea again at Dingwall, that in effect, today's ride was a  coast to coast. I was just happy to have the chance to have ridden through the Great Glen. Aside from the traffic it's an easy, flat-ish route but stunning. There was a malevolent little climb just after Drumnadrochit, but despite having steep shoulders on the way up (15% for 3/4 of a mile), the rest of the hill had a very long tail, ensuring that a long easy descent followed.

All week the forecast has been showing high winds and heavy rain for Sunday and that hasn't changed. So I rode an extra 25 miles today, up to the lovely town of Tain, to get as far north as possible while the weather held fair, ready for tomorrow's final leg up to John O'Groats.

Rest and be Thankful

LEJO'G Day Six: Gretna Green to Dumbarton

There can be fewer more scenic locations for a tea stop than the Oyster Bar on the banks of Loch Fyne. What could be more enjoyable than lounging in the conservatory, taking in the mountain view and devouring a delicious buttered slice of tea loaf?

I'd been looking forward to this leg of the trip since I first sketched out the route. It would be my first day into the Highlands and the first time I've visited my sister Jacqui and her husband Angus in the twenty years or so they've lived in Scotland (yes, shame on me!)

The tea stop came after climbing and descending the "Rest and be Thankful" pass, which takes you up and away from the head of Loch Long and over to Loch Fyne. It's a beautiful stretch of road and, with the gentle gradient, a joy to climb.

I made good progress today, and realised that if I didn't stop again, I might make it to visit Jacqui's school just before the end of the school day. So I pushed on down to the coast, over the Connell Bridge and back up the loch to Ardchatten. I didn't quite make it and was twenty minutes late. However, once they heard I arrived, all the kids came back to school to see me... all three of them!

Jacqui and I then cycled her "commute" home. Climbing out of the valley, there can be few more striking journeys to end your working day

Perfect, Almost

LEJO'G Day Six: Gretna Green to Dumbarton

This wasn't a perfect day on the bike, but up until three o'clock it was. On perfect days it's sunny, but not too warm. On perfect days there can be wind, but only if it's at your back. The recipe also includes smooth roads, beautiful scenery, fresh legs, and of course, a cafe stop of character. My day had all these things (yes, even fresh legs... considering).

Despite running parallel to the A74 motorway, my route towards Glasgow from Gretna cut away into the surrounding countryside often enough that I soon forgot the busy road was there. Once past Moffat (which supplied the excellent, characterful, cafe stop) and up onto the hills of the Borders, I had the roads and cycle paths to myself. The most disturbing thing about the day was the stupid grin on my face.

I can imagine that in bad weather this route would be bleak, dangerous even. But for me it put on its best face and it was beautiful.

The rain started as I ate a late lunch in another great cafe, this time in Strathaven. It coincided with the run down into East Kilbride and Glasgow and, unfortunately, a slow puncture. I knew the cause; a glass cut in the tyre from day one which had now deteriorated. I really needed a new tyre before I hit the highlands.

So my perfect day was broken by a rain soaked chase down unfamiliar busy streets, balancing the time to stop and pump the tyre to make it safe versus getting to the bike shop before closing. I made it, hopefully without using up all my good fortune.

High Point

LEJO'G Day Five: Gargrave to Gretna Green

Fleet Moss, the bleak moor that sits between Langstrothdale and Wensleydale, has the distinction of being the highest point in my journey from Land's End to John O'Groats. Purely by accident, it turns out it was also the halfway point. That the highest point and halfway point came in the Yorkshire Dales makes it even more special.

I was fortunate that it stayed dry. Even tackled from the "easier" south side, the 1936 feet of Fleet Moss made for a challenging climb today. The summit itself is uninspiring. It's flat topped with no great vista, made worse by the flat grey day, but I stopped for a picture nonetheless. However, the thought that it's all downhill from here is a real boost.

I rewarded myself with a bacon butty in the cafe at the bottom of the pass in Hawes. I shared a pot of tea and some good bike chat with Chris from Burnley, who stopped into the cafe on a 200km audax.

It all felt a lot better today. Double shorts helped relieve the saddle discomfort, and sticking to real food instead of energy bars has helped settle my stomach down. The incessant rain that started at Garsdale Head, five miles out of Hawes, didn't lay off until I passed though Carlisle, but I stayed warm and enjoyed the riding.

A landmark day had a landmark finish with the border crossing into Scotland. There's four hundred and forty miles to go in four days and, for the first time, John O'Groats is beginning to feel like it's within reach.