Locks, lochs, and two smoking tyres
June 17th 2008 My weekend adventure began with a groan from the diesel train pulling away from Glasgow Queen Street. I had forgotten to book my bicycle berth so I was relieved to have everything on board as we crept past the rotten boat hulls lining the Clyde River. The plan was to spend the night at Fort William, at the southern end of the Great Glen, and then cycle along a low-altitude walking path to Loch Nes
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