Here’s a photo I couldn’t have downloaded:
Some might say that Dunnet Head or Duncansby Head are further north or north east but I’m not sure they have a post in the ground and I’m not planning to cycle to them to find out!
In some ways making the journey from LE to JOG in fourteen days is a simpler task than using public transport to get back to London in two.
JOG is 35km from the nearest train station. Just one train leaves that station on a Sunday. It is formed of two coaches and there are no free spaces to reserve for a cycle today. Oh dear
The black pudding and haggis for breakfast at Lairg was the best I’ve ever had (and I’m not saying that because I was hungry, I’d stuffed my face at dinner last night). My legs were tired from the previous day but I set off.
The weather has been great the last two days. Without that I wouldn’t have made it so far
Seems the Scots farm fields of trees rather than wheat:
At Tongue I saw the first sign for JOG. That’s also when the coastal undulations similar to those in Cornwall started.
It was a long day, the end felt so close and yet so far. Happily this far north at this time of year, the sun doesn’t set until gone 10pm so I managed to make it to the sign and take a photo.
The cadence meter. Went on the blink but seems to be back. I think I’d kicked it by accident when uncleating. The heart rate monitor has run out of battery but even if I could find a replacement, it requires a tiny screwdriver
They must feel a bit unloved as they get a kick almost every time I uncleat and the weather has been reasonably good. To install this bracket to hold the rear mudguard properly away from the tyre requires pliers. I’ve been carrying the bracket around expecting to have to sort it out in a bike shop but actually, after a week’s worth of squeeling, the mudguards have settled into a good place.
Derailleurs. Have worked perfectly so far. I’ve been oiling the chain regularly but it needs a deep clean
Pannier rack. The last time (/first time) I tried cycle touring the bars holding the rack to the frame were not shaped correctly and the rack fell off at Westferry Circus.
The falling rack broke the derailleur off. This is held on to the frame by a derailleur hanger, a weak piece of metal designed to sacrifice itself in an accident to protect the more complicated rear derailleur. Sounds like a good idea but almost every bike requires a different design and so it’s often easier to replace the derailleur. Having learned my lesson, I now carry two spares around with me.
I compromised on the cleats. I consider cleats to be a compromise to begin with; having your feet attached to the pedals brings several disadvantages. I prefer three bolt mounted cleats to avoid hot spots but the two bolt setup allowed for recessed cleats in mountain bike style shoes which saved me having to carry another pair of shoes.
Many people think gel seats must be more comfortable as they’re softer. It’s not intuitive but I find leather better. An example of modern cheap products and marketing reversing the direction of progress
The silent heroes so far. Zero punctures, which is outrageous given what they have rolled over. Looking a bit ragged now. Hope I haven’t jinxed it and they hold out
Brakes. A bit too soft. I think they need bleeding
The bike has performed so far. I’m always surprised by how fragile bikes look and yet what they put up with.
They can make strange sounds. Around Bristol a regular cracking sound started – to my imagination it sounded like cracks in the carbon fork being stressed and slowly growing. That faded but in Scotland has now been replaced by a regular clacking sound, as if a bolt is slowly being undone. I can’t find which one it is.
This is how the bike looked two weeks before I left for Penzance
And this is how it looks now
This bit fell off early on. I’ve never understood what a reflector on the side is for really.
The handlebars. The horns are good for hills but otherwise, despite looking ergonomic, this design puts pressure on the nerve that runs up the inside of the wrist which leads to numb hands. I used to like the upright position in London traffic but I’d go for drops like on my carbon bike in future, initially less comfortable they’re better in the long run.
This is the Skye Bridge linking the island with the mainland.
Other than that I was cycling all day, cycling, cycling, cycling. I finished in Lairg which leaves me as well positioned as I could have hoped for. The east has more settlements but as I headed north, again the isolation became apparent. There is just one place large enough to support a bike shop between here and John O’groats now. One final push required tomorrow.
I met Jon this morning. He rented a bike at Fort William and will be doing the 3 Pistes sportive on Sunday. That’s 100 miles in one day with 2,700m of climbing over three ski resorts in Scotland, they claim that it’s the highest cycle sportive in the UK and I’m not going to argue. Good luck with that Jon!
We headed out west to the Isle of Skye. The quality of the tarmac has been exceptional up north. I would complain that we pay the EU bureaucrats a great deal of money to shield them from short term political and economic reality and take long term strategic decisions, adding a supranational layer to overcome the individual self interests of nations and instead they lay smooth black tarmac in the middle of nowhere to encourage us to destroy the countryside that still remains. This week I’m loving the tarmac.
Going west is the wrong direction really. It means I’m going to have to put in two huge days and hope that the weather is kind and the bike holds up. All the advice is to avoid the A9 on the east coast so I had planned to go up the west coast for the scenery. Sod that, I just want to get this done now. So I’m going to take a shorter route by going inland. The advantage is that it’s shorter and nearer civilisation (better phone signal and more places to stay), the downside is that there may be more gradient.