BenGarethRolfe

It would be fitting if we could find some profound words to summarise the final hours of our adventure. Frankly, parts of the last day took a lot out of us, so you'll have to make do with this. We awoke with a strangely nervous anticipation of the day ahead. We'd already cycled 940 miles, through some awful weather at times (see day 3), and had longer days (see 1, 3 and 7), so why the butterflies in the stomach now? Perhaps we somehow knew what lay round the corner. The rugged 30 miles of coastline to the east of Tongue were some of the hardest we'd faced. The frequency of lung-busting climbs, over uninhabited rugged moorland, and down into little villages and sandy coves, provided a very physical reminder of what a diverse country we ... read more

It seems that after many miles of separation, end-to-enders are funneled through the same routes in Scotland. We were pleased (and slightly smug) to realise that we were faster than the ones we encountered, whether it be on the relative flat of loch-side cycling, or up the brute of a hill that marked our departure from Loch Ness. 1 mile, 15%, wishing for even lower gears. Day 13 was notable for the return of moorland and hills, as opposed to lochs and mountains, as we headed towards the east cost of northern Scotland. We still didn't see any red squirrels, despite more signs warning us about them. Ben did eat a kilo of mussells for lunch though. Speaking of earth's creatures, we saw far fewer dead ones by the side of the road in Scotland than ... read more

The day began with a misty morning over the now mysterious-looking Loch Lomond. We cycled along its shores for many a mile, barely seeing a soul. A steep, long ascent took us into the Highlands, and would you believe it, the sun came out. We weaved our way through the mountains, following the paths of the rivers and streams, as many a Highlander must have done over the centuries. And as most of the World Mountain Bike Championship (held in Fort William this coming weekend) vans were also doing. The views were quite simply breath-taking. When we find a computer where it's possible to do more than type, we hope to share some with you. Huge mountains loom overhead, lochs sparkle in the sunshine, heather sways in the breeze. And the road goes on. All the ... read more

Our highest average speed but lowest top speed tell today's story: Fairly flat, into a stiff breeze. In nine days of cycling, the wind has been behind us twice. Once on the way to Land's End from Penzance, and once on a roundabout. We made it to Scotland though. We cycled along an old A road for miles, the majority of the traffic now on the adjacent motorway. The scenery was often obscured by the trees lining our route, and the low clouds that turned to rain in the afternoon. Eventually we arrived in New Lanark, drenched again. When we're able to post some pics, you'll have more of an idea what an interesting place this is. Just south of Lanark, it seems to be a purpose-built village, housing an old mill and its workers. You ... read more

Up through the former industrial landscape of Greater Manchester - mills, chimneys, factories, terraced houses - into the rolling hills and evocative landscape of the Pennines. Bronte country, as you probably know, although they lived a few miles away on the other side of some imposing hills. Up into the clouds we peddled, and down into Burnley, Colne and Barnoldswick, where we had lunch at Victoria's. Notable all the more so for the extra sponsorship money they kindly gave us. The afternoon consisted of a strenuous climb into the desolate magnificance of the Yorkshire Dales. The sun finally broke through the clouds as we neared our destination, Hawes, and gazed upon an impressive viaduct, and sheep, lots of sheep. Frisky ones too. A five mile downhill to Hawes ended the day very pleasantly. Until Gareth and ... read more