The End

As Sean has mentioned, last night's dinner was a somewhat unusual affair in a dining room the like of which I have never experienced.

The hospitality was great and despite my misgivings about the place, I really enjoyed the evening.

In the morning, neither of us wanted our adventure to finish and we distinctly dawdled over breakfast.  We had to leave eventually though, and when our hostess gave us a £25 donation on checking out, I immediately felt terrible about all the things I'd said about the place.

So off we set, towards the moment that we'd looked forward to for so long and then didn't want to arrive.  Once I got to John O'Groats it all seemed rather surreal and I whiled away some time talking to a lovely couple who were waiting there to meet their son who was also cycling from Land's End.  It felt good to exchange experiences of a loved one completing the challenge, and their pride was touching.  They also gave us a donation of £5, which I thought was very generous.

Sean arrived a little earlier than I expected, and I wasn't quite ready for him.  I'm not sure what ready would have meant in practice, but we hugged tightly and predictably I shed a few tears.  Romeo says he was totally dry eyed but I don't believe him.  The proud mum I was speaking to kindly took our photo and as usual, naughty Romeo managed to sneak into the shot.

I couldn't resist purchasing a doormat stating "The Lord giveth and the government taketh away" from the gift shop and after that we began our long homeward journey.  On the way we exchanged thoughts about our endeavours which could probably be summed up as "that was great wasn't it" "gosh, it's a long way" and "that was quite hard".  Our stop tonight was at Boat of Garten where we went to the pub for dinner and I ate and drank all manner of forbidden things.  Mmmmm.....

On Thursday it's our tenth wedding anniversary, meaning the next couple of days are just for us, so I'll bid farewell for now.  Thank you to everyone who has sent us messages of encouragement during our journey, it really has made a difference.  We get home on Friday, so I'll probably post some reflections on the trip as a whole over the weekend.

What a great experience.

Day 10 - And they think it's all over! It is now!

Last night was quite an experience. We were staying in a 1790 hunting lodge and dinner was, shall we say, quite interactive in terms of both the family who owned the house, their estate staff and the dogs. It was also exceptionally good and done in a style which has ceased to exist in many parts of the UK. The evening culminated in my trying the local malt in the company of the daughter of the family, and Guy, late of the Cameron Highlanders, and all round good man. I retired before things got out of hand, around the time that Guy suggested trying out the 7mm Mauser he had in the car. I wasn't going to mention this to Becky, but he left me a note referring to said firearm which Becky passed to me without comment in the morning. I also left with a £25 donation which I paid in via Justgiving today.

This morning saw a slightly leisurely breakfast interspersed with dog fussing, attempting to put off the moment when I would ease into the saddle for the last time. As you can see from the day's mileage figure below, the aim was to put in a very short ride to JOG, allowing time for the obligatory photos, before putting the bike on the car for the first leg of the journey home.

The ride was entirely incident free, and I have seldom felt so many mixed emotions as I did when I crested the final climb to see JOG at the bottom of the hill. I felt quite choked up as I passed the village sign, but had to get over it pretty quickly as there were still of couple of sharpish bends to get round.

Becky was there to meet me and give me a big hug by the "mileage sign", we chatted to few other people who had either just finished themselves or were waiting for their rider/s to appear. All done, we had a bite to eat, packed up the car, and set off to the south.

As we covered the journey in reverse down the A9 towards Inverness and picked up the route of Day 9, it began to strike me just how much ground we had covered, me cycling and Becky driving. It really has been quite a piece of organisation and sheer bloody effort to put this together. Once it has all sunk in,I will finish this blog and fill in the technical details.

Until then.

Mileage: 21.3

Total mileage: 867

Total calories: 52,517

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/552560922

https://www.justgiving.com/Sean-Bonnington/

Day 9 - The Hunting Lodge

Today was the last long ride of the trip, and given my overall state on the previous day, I was a little bit nervous about how the day would pan out.

It turned out I needn’t have worried; obviously consuming half my body weight in lasagne (thank you Denise) the previous evening has refilled the tank for the initial few miles to fly by. Detouring off the A9 before Tain brought the first drama of the day in the shape of a sociopathic golden retriever cross, which flew at me half way up a steep climb and unable to sprint away. He intended to wound at the least, so I was forced to dismount and resort to squirting water from my bottle into his eyes to make him back off. He was not happy at my presence on his patch, so I ended up walking backwards up the hill, while he still made the occasional rush at me for the next 50 metres or so.

Back on the bike, I eventually rejoined the A9, feeling pretty good and slogged it out until I reached the 55 mile point, where I hit the first of two fairly major climbs. The second of these, Berriedale, is a real heartbreaker and left me in bits with 20-odd miles still to go. Salvation appeared a couple of miles later in the shape of the tea room at the Laidhay Croft Museum, where coffee and ginger cake restored me a little. Note to other would-be LEJOG riders: if you want water or food, you will have to go into one of the small harbour towns. There are no petrol stations or the like on the main road.

At this point I did wonder about pressing on to John O’Groats, but decided that a 105 mile day was not on the cards and that I should stick to the agreed plan. Good choice, as the B&B for the night was well worth getting to on time; great dinner, and very good company.

So tomorrow; the last day, and I don’t really want this to end. A short ride to JOG, towel down, then bike on the back of the car and off back south. That’s the plan.

Mileage: 87.8

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/551786693

https://www.justgiving.com/Sean-Bonnington/

In which I am thrust outside my comfort zone

We had a wonderful evening last night.  We ate with the doors to the patio open and the table was set so beautifully it was like eating in a silver service restaurant.  The food was great, with ample portions of asparagus, cauliflower and a delicious courgette and chilli salad to go with my salmon.  While Sean worked his way through an enormous portion of sticky toffee pudding and ice cream, I was given white flesh nectarines with blueberries, raspberries and redcurrants from the garden.  I wouldn’t usually eat that much fruit but I was touched by the effort Denise had made, plus – it was just so nice!  After dinner we were invited to retire to the sofa for coffee.  I preferred not to drink tea or coffee?  No worries, they would slice some fresh ginger and make an infusion for me.  The setting, the wonderful hospitality and the beautiful weather made for an idyllic evening.  That night we both slept like babies.

In the morning it felt rather odd that this would be the last full day.  Partly because we had such a lovely stay at Knockbain House, I started to feel a bit nostalgic and didn’t want our adventure to stop.  Although inevitably it would have to, because once we got to John O’Groats we’d run out of road.

After settling up, David and Denise said I could stay as long as I wanted to and use the sitting room and gardens, so since I had enjoyed being there so much, I took them up on their offer.  I went into the garden and ran the first 20 steps of Ershibashi (actually it ended up being the first 18 steps, as I forgot about grasp the sparrow’s tail and twin dragons, but never mind) followed by a run through of the long form before heading inside for some meditation.  Wonderful.  I really didn’t want to leave, but I had to eventually, so off I went.

The journey to Thrumster was slow but easy and I stopped at a delightful cafe called Poppy’s in Golspie.  Yes, there was more scenery.  Yes, I still wasn’t bothered.

In Thrumster I had chosen an old laird’s house which has a room to rent, as I knew Sean would love the whole ancestral home experience.  I, however, was not so keen.  Insects began buzzing around my head as soon as I got out of the car.  The carpets were worn, the paint was peeling and there were spiders’ webs everywhere.  There were free range children and a dog that attempted to smell one’s crotch.  I fought down rising panic as I realised how far I was from John Lewis Oxford Street.

I attempted to make myself feel at home by unpacking, but it didn’t work, and I didn’t want to do any Pilates because I didn’t want to get down on that floor, so there was nothing for it but to find something to do outdoors.  I went downstairs and enquired brightly of my hostess what I could do for fun in the area.  “Fun?!”  She looked at me pityingly.  “Well, perhaps I could walk down to the coast?” I ventured.  She gave me directions – about a 2 mile walk – and I set off enthusiastically.

God, it was awful.  All the houses were grim.  

An air of desolation hung over the place.  Even the sheep regarded me suspiciously.  When I got to the coast, you couldn’t even get down onto the clifftop proper and the views were rubbish.  So, chastened, I turned on my heel to go back the way I came.

Immediately I found that it was uphill all the way.  A pall of heavy grey cloud hung overhead.  Midges buzzed around my face.  I shook my head to get rid of them and hit myself in the face with my ponytail.  I passed a box on fire by the side of the road.  

My thoughts turned again to John Lewis.  I trudged on.  I exchanged pleasantries with a man I passed working on his barn, and on hearing he had a Yorkshire accent, asked how long he’d been living here.  “15 years” he replied “and I love it here, I’d never want to live anywhere else.”  Dear God.

I was almost at the house when Sean pulled up beside me and my spirits were immediately lifted.  We walked back into the house together and d’you know what, the house seemed much nicer with him in it.

Roll on John O’Groats.

Day 8 - Running on empty

The sun screen stayed in the box this morning. Having spent much of the spring wearing Goretex (sometimes secretly in the the office), I was very reluctant to concede that I might need wet weather gear on this ride. Seeing a couple of animal transporters going past carrying  pairs of animals finally convinced me that the rain was here to stay, so it was on with the full monty of arm and leg warmers, overshoes and Goretex jacket. Which I needed for around 20 mins before the sun started shining, and it was off with the jacket.

It didn't take long to realise that I was very, very tired, and that the cumulative effects of the previous 7 days had caught up with me, but what are you going to do? Quit? I think not. So I plodded on, with the only concession to my weakened state being the abandonment of my plan to take the old military road on the south side of Loch Ness. The thought of a mile long climb with an average gradient of 1 in 10 was just too much, so the A82 was to be my route of choice. Actually, it is the only other road apart from General Wade's masterpiece should you wish to travel from Fort William to Inverness.

During a brief refuelling stop in Fort Augustus, I overheard one of the locals using the word "squally", normally one of my favourite words, but not when I have 50 miles still to ride. And squally it proved to be. On with the Goretex, off with the Goretex, and repeat ad nauseum. I was actually pleased when the rain settled down into a continuous torrent and I could just concentrate on being wet, tired and miserable.

Eventually (and it did seem like an eternity), the rain stopped, the sun came out and I reached Inverness. Somehow I missed the picturesque town centre and the coffee shop of my fantasies, and I ended up with some sort of machine made muck from a petrol station. Muck it may have been, but restored I pressed on to take the A9 in search of Dingwall. Avoid the A9 north of Inverness at all costs if you are cycling; it is a two lane motorway and is terrifying, even at 4pm on a Sunday afternoon.

I was relieved to take the Dingwall road and find the quiet lane up to the B&B; thank you again to the owners for a fabulous dinner and good company.

So, physically I am smashed, one more long day to go, bring it on.

Mileage: 81.9

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/551011049

https://www.justgiving.com/Sean-Bonnington/

More scenery

This morning when we woke up it was raining.  And I don't just mean raining, I mean bucketing down.  However our spirits were lifted by a morning greeting from the owner's dog, who was even more exuberant than the staff at the Milton Inn, and immediately fell in love with Sean.  Since check out wasn't until 11am today, I spent some time in the room after Sean had left doing a qi gong set and 20 minutes meditation.  This felt like a real luxury and together with a delicious breakfast of scrambled eggs and smoked salmon, set me up for the day.

I found the drive a little easier today - either the roads were a bit better or I've got more used to that type of driving.  I stopped at an unpronounceable place to stretch my legs and was pleasantly surprised to find the cafe sold Illy coffee.  There was more beautiful scenery all along the route.  Like, whatever.

The weather was very mixed between sunshine and torrential downpours, and sometimes both at once, but by the time I reached Dingwall it seemed to have decided to be sunny.  The B&B here is absolutely exquisite with beautiful gardens

and the owners have taken great care to make everything just so.  It's indicative of the place that the tea/coffee making facilities in the room look like this.

I had e-mailed ahead with my dietary requirements and on arrival Denise, the owner, asked me if salmon was ok.  Of course it's ok.  Would we like some wine with dinner?  Sean would, but not for me.  Red or white?  Well if it's salmon, I said, he'll want white.  "Oh no!" she exclaimed, "he's not having salmon, that's for you!  He needs something more substantial than that!  I've got him a lasagne."  What a star.

On asking if there was anything of interest to look at in Dingwall, I received an emphatic "no" so I relished the opportunity to find a shady spot in the beautiful gardens to practise my long form.  The experience of doing tai chi surrounded by the smell of wild flowers, with swifts swooping around you and the soundtrack a gentle buzzing of bumble bees, I can tell you is quite a special one.  However I was somewhat embarrassed to find how much of it I had forgotten just since the clifftop at Land's End.  Anyone would think I'd had other things to occupy my mind since then.

I can't quite believe that tomorrow is the penultimate day.  I'm full of admiration for what Sean has achieved although I still can't imagine how either of us will feel when he crosses the finish line.

Day 7 - The bonnie hills

This was the day when it felt like the walls were starting to come down. Having spent a sleepless night in a very over-heated hotel room, I had very little energy and the initial climb up to Crianlarich was a slog of the highest order. I made it up to the Green Welly Stop in Tyndrum feeling dazed and on the edge of climbing off, stopped, restocked with water and put on my rain jacket as a light rain was falling. I began the next phase towards Bridge of Orchy with a feeling that it was starting to go bad. By Bridge of Orchy the rain had set in and I was climbing on pure muscle memory, forcing myself over the climb just past Loch Tulla and slogging over the moor past Glencoe Mountain. The rain got worse, and I began to doubt getting over to Glencoe.

As I crested the climb by Glencoe Mountain, I could see that a wall of cloud was rolling up from Glencoe, and as I finally reached the top of the descent into Glencoe itself, the heavens finally opened and the downpour began. I was on the edge of being too cold, so no option at this point but to open the taps and get downhill as quickly as possible, in very dodgy conditions, motorcycles and cars going past and soaking me in spray, and of course no chance of stopping in a hurry. I cannot tell you how glad I was to see the National Trust Visitor Centre and get under cover with a hot coffee and some cake. Still 18 miles or so to go from this point, all I wanted to do was get off the bike so again, open the taps, ignore the screaming from my legs and slam through the gears as quickly as possible along the bonnie banks until the welcome sight of the hotel.

Learning point: sleep and Goretex are your friends.

It is beginning to sink in that I have three days left, and the longest of those days is "only" 88 miles.

Mileage: 89.8

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/549971263

https://www.justgiving.com/Sean-Bonnington/