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 [View Full Entry]

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As with a lot of the rest of Scotland, we rode along one long road for most of the day. An A-road in name only, the A836 from Loch Shin, via Loch Loyal to Tongue, is a single track barely used by anyone. This made for very pleasant cycling, across undulating moorland, past conifer plantations, eerily-quiet lochs and towards the imposing peaks of Ben Hope and Ben Loyal. We could have headed directly to John O'Groats, but the lure of more British hinterland proved too great. Such was our pace (average 15.1m/h), we completed the day's ride by lunchtime. We spent [View Full Entry]

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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 [View Full Entry]

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Today was relatively flat, alongside several lochs. While it did not match the stunning scenery of yesterday, it was certainly very pleasant. We took in the UK's highest point - Ben Nevis, its largest body of freshwater - Loch Ness, and also our highest average speed - are you ready stats fans? 16.7 m/h! The previous days had ranged from 11.5-14.1. Our hostel was somewhat rustic and remote, situated on the northern shore of Loch Ness. So we ordered a curry from Drumnadrochit, 12 miles away, and Gareth and Ben cycled the 6 mile round-trip to Invermoriston, to buy booze. The [View Full Entry]

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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 [View Full Entry]

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We took a break from our bikes to walk to the Falls of Clyde. Poor old Clyde - it looked quite steep and slippery. Joking (that was a joke, btw) aside, they were very pretty. We knew today would be a relatively short cycle, so we decided to take a look at Glasgow. It seems to spread for miles, over a wide flat valley. It's not particularly cycle friendly, but vaste swathes of the centre are pedestrianised which is a good thing. Astonishingly, we found it very hard to find a pub. After exiting Glasgae on a horrific motorwayesque A-road, we [View Full Entry]

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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 [View Full Entry]

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Gareth's knee pain reached its nadir, almost causing him to puke on the last Dales miles, to Kirkby Stephen. We thought the smell of our clothes may have contributed, but cycling naked wasn't an option we were prepared to entertain. Neverthless, he soldiered on. Meanwhile Rolfe and I enjoyed another day of imposing fells and dales, streams and villages. A fortuitous wrong turn took us into the centre of Appleby-in-Westmoreland, a pretty market town. Gareth's knee support was a source of amusement for the locals of the Lowther Arms in Penrith, where we had lunch. Lunch without chips, for pos [View Full Entry]

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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 fin [View Full Entry]

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Filled with another massive breakfast we made our way through the country lanes of Cheshire in double quick time. The sunshine even stayed with us as we found our to way to Manchester. Rolfe's dreams of record-breaking average speed were shattered as Ben dragged the group down a cycle path, which soon became a bridleway, which then became some sort of marsh. Neverthess, lunch with the Williams family in Sale was not delayed for too long. We ate everything in sight, and even some stuff that was hidden. 54 miles is a lot to cover in one morning, so we felt [View Full Entry]

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