Day eleven: 125 miles
The final showdown
Marybank to John o’Groats
As mentioned earlier, no story is complete without an exciting beginning, and it is also true that no end to a story is complete without an exciting finish which arrives conveniently after some sort of indescribably hellish low point (well any story written by anyone who attended the ‘Rocky’ school of story writing). The previous two days of rigor had taken their toll and we were all feeling fatigued and aching.
After a late start at around a quarter to eleven, the opening cycling was not well received, especially by me who felt like a man who had all his energy sucked from him, and then had a bucket of steaming hot turd thrown in his face just to annoy him. This part of the journey was very much a mental battle; our bodies didn’t want to go cycling, but we had to make them. To make things worse we didn’t have much food left, so forcing our bodies to grind out the miles was like driving a car with no petrol. This was the kind of hellish low point that Rocky script writers like to use. We did have the opportunity to stop early, find somewhere to stay and complete the journey to John o’Groats the day after. This would have been too easy. Plus it would have made for a fairly boring end to the story. And adventure stories don’t have boring endings. And Rocky would never have done this. So we decided to go for it.
We trundled through the first 50-60 miles despite our poor condition. Then help arrived in the form of Mark and Andy’s Dad and his big car. We unloaded our heavy bags into the big car and ate some much needed food that had been brought along for us. With our bikes now considerably lighter, our morale began to repair as did our poor average speed for the day.
By six o’clock we were 48 miles from John o’Groats. This was when we received the news that if we didn’t make it by ten o’clock then we wouldn’t be able to officially register our 11 day time. This was the final gut shot that we needed to inspire a Rocky style comeback. 48 miles in 4 hours requires an average speed of 12mph. Doesn’t sound too fast but when you include the necessary toilet and food breaks, the rumours of some very hilly terrain and the fact that our bodies were tired and not working very well then the odds weren’t exactly stacked in our favour.
I once saw a ‘Dilbert’ cartoon that quoted ‘If it wasn’t for the last minute, then nothing would ever get done’. I am not sure if Dilbert had us in mind when he said this but the point this last bit of pressure to make it to John o’Groats before 10 catalysed a cycling performance that I am not sure we knew we had. We stormed up and down the steep cloud covered hills in the most northern corner of Scotland as if we had failed to acknowledge their existence.
By 8 o’clock we had 18 miles to cover in two hours. Unsure what terrain lay ahead, I decided a ‘go as fast as we can until we can take no more’ approach was probably best, and using a deep breathing technique (as successfully employed my martial artists and ladies giving birth) I headed up the fastest ten miles of the whole trip. This was immediately followed by Mark leading us to the fastest six miles of the trip. For the final two miles we could see the end, and we rolled downhill holding hands for the camera.
We arrived at John o’Groats at nine thirty. To our dismay the place where you register had decided to close early which meant we probably didn’t need to rush after all…but we were glad we did. We banged on the door of the o’Groats inn to insist the boss let us register tonight, reluctantly he accepted and the trip became official.
Fittingly this adventure ended how it started for me, rushing to get to a certain place in a certain time. I like this as all good stories end with some reference to the beginning (films like ‘Saving Private Ryan’ have taught me this).
I end with thanks to everyone who helped us on the way, everyone who has sponsored me, and everyone who is going to sponsor me after reading this ;-). Special thanks goes to Mark and Andy’s dad for the lift back to Bristol and my brother Jack for lending me equipment, advice and producing this really lovely website.
Thanks for reading!
Day ten: 120 miles
Mountains, Loch Ness & a really big hill.
Tyndrum to Marybank
After the late finish the previous day, we didn’t depart Tyndrum until 10. The long climbs into the mountains were not entirely welcome as we were all feeling fatigued from the previous day. The cold biting mountain winds nibbled at our morale, and the foul stench of death coming from the decaying corpse of a deer that Andy felt obliged to photograph gobbled away large chunks of our good spirits. This was a shame because the mountains were very pretty, but we were too cold to care. After 40 miles of tough mountain roads we found a tea room to defrost in and eat cake.
Mark and Andy felt better after their ‘8-sugar’ tea, as did I after my single sugared coffee and we departed for Fort William feeling much better than before. We stopped in Fort William for lunch and headed towards Inverness for a fantastic evening of cycling around Loch Ness. Our pace was excellent all afternoon and we were enjoying the excellent scenery. After 100 miles of cycling we were presented with the most challenging hill of the entire trip, a ¾ mile 15% whopper. Fortunately for me most of my training for this cycle trip had involved cycling up similar hills in Bath on a daily basis, but after the long day and with our heavy bags weighing us down; this was a tough climb.
The late start meant that we didn’t arrive at Marybank (roughly 15 miles NW of Inverness) until 11pm. Exhausted we ate an insufficiently small pizza and chip dinner and dreaded the final 125 mile push to John o’Groats in the morning.
Day nine: 86 (+12) miles
Day of days
Kilmarnock to Tyndrum
The un-dramatic but pleasant day eight couldn’t have been more different to the events of day nine, which we were destined to feel the effects of right through to the end of the trip. We originally planned to cycle to Fort William, this was an ambitious 130 miles from Kilmarnock, but we felt ready for the challenge.
The day started well, with all three of us feeling good after an early night and a good hearty breakfast. Progress to the Glasgow suburbs was swift and we enjoyed a morning food break in a park. Mark and myself played on the swings whilst Andy made friends with a small dog. After lunch we arrived at the Loch Lomund national park (where the 2007 Scottish Open is being held). This is where the day ceased to go to plan…
Whoever built the roads around Loch Lomund probably wasn’t a cyclist, as despite appearing to be fairly recently re-surfaced, the roads are bumpy and covered in loose stones. The roads were extremely uncomfortable to ride on with our rigid road bikes, and more than once I became concerned that I was going to cough up a testicle or two. Whether the condition of the roads contributed to Andy’s rear tyre exploding was not clear (the inch wide whole left in the tyre would suggest a manufacturing fault). Fortunately Andy was not hurt by the blow out (luckily we were descending a hill into a head wind meaning that were going relatively slowly), but it was clear that his bike was in need of a new tyre.
Mark and myself decided to cycle back the 6 miles back to Dumbarton in search of the Halfords that some helpful hotel receptionists had directed us to. With the weight removed from our bikes for this backwards journey our acquirement of Andy’s new tyre was rapid, as was Andy’s fitting of said tyre. Flustered by our misfortune, when we started moving again I lost concentration and fell off my bike. Fortunately I landed on soft grass, narrowly missing a bed of jagged rocks. I escaped injury bar a slightly twisted ankle but it wasn’t serious.
We could be forgiven for thinking that one tyre blowout in a day was unlucky, and that two would be almost uncertain, but the gods of chance felt differently and an hour later Andy’s front tyre exploded in much the same way as the first. This time we were about 25 miles from Dumbarton and close to five o’clock, so hitch hiking was our only chance of reaching a bike shop before closing time. Fortunately an outdoor adventure instructor took pity on us within 5 minutes and within 40 minutes of the second blowout we had acquired two new tyres (we decided not to take any chances). Thanks to a taxi driver and 2 more friendly motorists we delivered Andy two more tyres without denting our charity budget.
Based on advice given by the people we hitched rides off we decided to head for Tyndrum, a small town up in the mountains. Inevitably the journey to Tyndrum was mostly uphill, and on poor roads (including a mile of gravel). Roughly five miles away from Tyndrum having completed over 90 miles, the previous 10-15 without food or water, with over 12 hours on the road, Mark decided to announce (in full seriousness) that the day had been a bit of a rest day. Not impressed, my reply to Mark was quick, to the point and two-worded. I also pointed out the as fore-mentioned rigours of the day and Mark conceded his error.
At the end of a long uphill we arrived at Tyndrum tired and in need of feeding. We ate at the award winning ‘Good Food Café’, the staff of whom told us that all the accommodation in the area was fully booked and that camping was probably our only option. They also told us to put on plenty of insect repellant or face being eaten alive. Naturally we hadn’t packed any insect repellant so this news almost made me weep into my award winning fish and chips with mushy peas.
Thankfully though we had an angel on our shoulder in the form of Mark and Andy’s dad; he had booked us into a nearby hostel after hearing updates on our poor fortune throughout the day. We went to bed late, exhausted and not looking forward to the morning.
Day eight: 90 miles
To Scotland
Carlisle to Kilmarnock
The rest day had done wonders for our tired bodies as we headed to Kilmarnock at excellent pace. In Kilmarnock we stayed with Mark and Andy’s Uncle Jim and his family, who provided us with a fantastically warm Scottish welcome, as well as excellent beds, food, sponsorship money and laundry services – a big thanks to them, much appreciated!
Day seven: 30 miles (rest day)
Taking it easy
Keswick to Carlisle
Having made excellent progress on the trip to this point to the detriment of Andy’s injured legs we decided it was best to declare a rest day to enjoy the fine sights of the Lake District and allow our bodies to recover from a strenuous week of cycling shenanigans. We ventured into Keswick after a lie in and a second BBQ for breakfast to eat pasties and watch a street performer do impressive things with chains.
I stocked up on supplies at the local supermarket whilst Mark and Andy fell asleep in the tent (under the guise of putting the tent down). The cycle to Carlisle was relaxed and without drama in more splendid sunshine. We stayed at the County Hotel in Carlisle who gave us free breakfasts to support our efforts, so thanks to them!
Day six: 50 miles
Tents, Lakes and almost losing an eye.
Lancaster to Keswick
Originally we planned to cycle all the way through the Lake District and onto Carlisle. However Andy’s legs were tired and injured and so we stopped short in Keswick, a fantastic little town in the north of the Lake District. The Lake District, we all agreed was one of the most stunningly beautiful parts of the UK that we past through, so this made our decision to stop early even easier.
The day seemed to be a day where I was subconsciously trying to hurt myself; entering the Lake District I was inches away from relieving myself onto an electric fence, I am happy to report that I didn’t cause myself any harm. Later whilst using a bungee cord to construct a washing line to hang up my towel, the bungee cord slipped and hit me just below the left eye. This was fortunate as if I had lost my eye it would have hurt, and slowed our progress onto John O’Groats. Disappointingly the bruise this incident left was small and unimpressive but I was glad to still have two eyes.
We stopped briefly at lake Windermere to take photos. Mark decided to climb a dead tree overhanging the lake. One thing I learnt about Mark over the trip is that his perception of hazards isn’t the best and climbing this tree was a classic example of this. Fortunately Mother Nature blessed Mark with good reactions and a nimble frame to balance out this hazard perception deficit and these attributes were called upon when the branch he was balancing on broke. Mark escaped injury.
We stopped at a picturesque spot next to a rocky stream for lunch. After taking the inevitable photos and climbing up the stream we departed to head for Keswick, where we planned to stay the night to give Andy’s injured legs a rest. Having not booked any accommodation in Keswick we found ourselves with no choice but to use the 2-man which Mark reassured me was generously proportioned and could comfortably house the three of us (although he did concede that this was based on his childhood memories of the tent). Fortunately the weather was the best we got on the entire trip and so camping seemed like a fun thing to do.
Hungry, I naturally assumed the hunter-gatherer role and sought out disposable BBQ’s and pre-packaged meat products from the local supermarket whilst leaving the chuckle brothers to sort out the tent. Fortunately the said brothers did a good job of putting up the tent, using sticks to make up for the lack of pegs where necessary, and did a good job of constructing improvised BBQ tools from the discarded BBQ packaging.
Worried that sleeping on the ground with no roll mat might be a bit uncomfortable, we decided the best solution was to drink precisely two pints of beer from a local ale house. Overwhelmed by the potency of the ale after a day of cycling we slept very happily.
Day five: 90 miles
Strong winds and a strange little man
Whitchurch to Lancaster
I woke up with a cold but this was overshadowed by Andy being sick again in the night. The wind was very strong today and was in our face or across us for most of the day. We discovered how much a difference a head wind makes on bikes on this day as it was a lot of hard work heading into wind (12 mph a struggle), but relatively easy with the wind behind us (we did 28 mph up a slight incline with ease when we briefly went the wrong way). We stopped at the Fox and Barrel pub in Cotebrook, where the manageress kindly gave us cups of tea before opening time and gave us sponsorship money – Thanks!
The winds were giving me big problems entering Warrington, the upshot being that I was very cold and had given up on any childhood dreams of being an Eskimo. We went to a Morrison’s café so that I could warm up and drink more tea. After this we went straight to Wigan where we stopped for chain lube (amusingly the lady in the bike shop asked if this was something taken orally, we didn’t feel it appropriate to question her career choice as a bike shop attendant.) We celebrated being up north by eating chips and gravy for lunch (as well as sandwiches, chocolate and fruit…).
On exiting the chip shop a strange little man with a passing resemblance to Ronnie Corbett asked us all individually for directions. We all said that we were not local. Meanwhile two local girls at a bus stop asked us if we had socks in our shorts. We politely (and honestly) informed them that we weren’t. Meanwhile the strange little man reappears and encourages us ‘to try our luck’ with the girls. Concerned that ‘trying our luck’ with these girls might get us arrested and wishing to churn out some more miles we cycled off but saw strange little man walking over to the girls to have a chat…
We pedaled onto Preston and then to Lancaster. We found Lancaster to be possibly one of the friendliest places we stayed in with a stranger giving us good hotel advice and sponsorship money. We stayed at the Wagon and Horses pub whose Landlady was very friendly and gave us a nice charity discount on the room – Thanks!
Lancaster impressed us a lot so we felt it appropriate to enjoy a pint of local ale before bed. The large volume of exercise we had undertaken made the ale go straight to our heads and we slept very soundly that night.
Day four: 80 miles
Cow photos and broken glass
Hereford to Whitchurch
Early breakfast for an early start. The roads had flattened significantly since leaving Wales which did wonders for our overall pace. No massive dramas today (Mark did stop to take a picture of a cow for his mum). We all got excited when we saw signs for Newcastle until we realised that this was a different Newcastle to ‘Byker Grove’ Newcastle. We arrived in Whitchurch (the home of Tower clocks) at around half three. The accents here were reassuringly northern so we began our search for the kids from the Vauxhall adverts but sadly this search was fruitless.
We stayed at the Dodington Lodge Hotel who provided us with a discounted room, so thanks to them!
Mark looked for an optician to fix his glasses to fix his glasses but they all said they were unfixable. Mark took matters into his own hands and bought some super glue and acquired a massive paperclip and did an admirable job of fixing them himself.
Day three: 50 miles
A brief trip through Wales
Thornbury to Hereford
After two long days we planned an ‘easy’ day of 50 miles to give our tired bodies a chance to recover, which was fortunate as unfortunately Andy had been sick in the night. We headed over the old Severn bridge into Wales and descended into the Wye valley whilst admiring the fantastic forest views. I hoped to befriend a tribe of ewoks but this failed to materialise. Mark claimed to see a golden eagle but I can’t confirm this sighting as real (he also claimed to see Godzilla).
There were some large hills to climb coming out of the Wye valley but we were treated to a really fast downhill afterwards (top speed 44.2mph). We made it to Hereford in good time and stayed at the Merton Hotel who provided us with cheap rooms (thanks!). We all agreed that the burgers we had at the hotel were amongst the best we had ever tasted and we prepared ourselves for an early start.
By day three our individual roles within the team had clearly emerged. I was the team nutritionist, advising when and what to eat and drink throughout the day. Andy was the team mechanic, ready to fix any bike related mishaps. Mark as well as fulfilling the sick note role was also doing a fine job of navigating, especially as we didn’t have a map for the first two days. However Mark managed to break his glasses in Hereford leaving us with a blind navigator…
Day two: 120 miles
Lots of rain, cycling and goulash
Okehampton to Thornbury
The plan for the day was to head for Mark and Andy’s parents house in Thornbury (15 miles north of Bristol). In hindsight cycling 120 miles through some of the hilliest roads in the country was probably not the best recovery for Marks previous day of toilet trouble but free beds for the night and a warm Warren family welcome would do wonders for our limited student/charity budget.
The morning trip to Crediton was very hilly and Andy was discovering that the gears on his bike were quite tough to push through on steep hills. One of the good things about going uphill is that a downhill normally follows, and the downhill’s on the approach to Crediton were very fast and probably quite dangerous given that the big watering can in the sky had dumped a lot of water in a 15 minute downpour. Nevertheless we sped down the hills and pondered the consequences of crashing afterwards. Soaked from head to toe we found shelter in a café in Crediton and had a cup of tea. Mark reassured me that trench foot was unlikely and I assured him that getting more wet was likely. Two ladies eating teacakes sponsored us generously and we then set off towards Tiverton in improved conditions.
Sporadic showers hit us throughout the rest of the day meaning we became very proficient at F1 style rain jacket pit stops. After Tiverton we headed to Wellington and then Taunton. As I knew Taunton we stopped here to pick up more food from Tesco. We also tried to fill up on water but the Tesco café manager struggled to get to grips with my request for tap water and refused. In no mood to debate his civil obligation to provide tap water to thirsty cyclists we stopped at Fitness First who more than adequately fulfilled our water requirements. Overwhelmed by the oranges and sports drinks that Fitness First also provided us with I left my sunglasses by their water dispenser but only realised this several miles down the road. We passed through Bridgwater and commented on the much improved smell (Bridgwater’s smelly celathane factory closed down not so long ago).
Onto Bristol via some very big hills near the airport and we had almost dried out from the morning soaking. The highlight of Bristol was seeing a man carrying a large TV using his head. Moments after passing him and discussing how his unorthodox carrying technique was probably not supported by most conventional manual handling codes of practice we heard the unmistakable noise of a large TV hitting concrete. We laughed.
The final push to Thornbury was a very wet and cold push thanks to lots of rain and a little bit of hail, but warm showers and lashings of hot goulash (of the beefy and really good variety) prepared by Marks mum (Thanks!) made things all better. In summary a long and wet day, but less dramatic than the first.
Day one: 100 miles
Land's End to Okehampton
Land's End, a puncture and a leaky bum.
We arose early at 6:30 to cycle from the White Sands hotel in Sennan (who provided us with cheap beds for the night- thanks!) to Land's End. Land's End is a strange place, a mix between Mordor (the big evil place in Lord of the Rings) and an abandoned theme park, or at least that's what it was like when we were there. Nevertheless, we registered our cycle ride with the End-to-End club and rode on to Penzance in search of breakfast. A generous tail wind made these 1st nine or so miles fairly easy, but the grey clouds were giving us cause for concern. Breakfast came in the form of a Tesco cafe.
A few miles after breakfast the first drama struck us. Andy's rear tyre punctured on the A30. Impressively Andy repaired the puncture in 10-15 minutes (I took a mental note to get Andy to fix my tyre if it got punctured, last time I got a puncture it took me about an hour and a half to fix and I swore a lot more than Andy). Progress was swift after this mishap, pressing onto Bodmin for lunch. I imagine I should describe the harsh Cornish hills in this part of the update, but Marks leaky bum was of more pressing concern, as well as the heavy rain that was sporadically drenching us. How Mark completed the rest of the journey to the White Hart Inn in Okehampton in his condition I am not sure, the fact that this was the only place to stay that night might provide some explanation but still I am in awe of Marks gritty determination.
Tired and wet, Mark made full use of the en-suite toilet facilities in our cut-price room (thanks White Hart Inn!) and we re-fuelled in the downstairs bar. An exciting but tough first day, made tougher by knowing we had to cycle 120 miles the day after...
No Limerick for Day One but a song called ‘Leaky Bum’, to the same tune as ‘Mardy Bum’ by the Arctic Monkey’s.
Now then Leaky Bum
I see your frown
And it looks like your guts are about to run
And it goes off
And out comes lots of corn
Oh we don’t know what to do with you
Cars are tooting their horns
If you want to sponsor this feat of endurance I thoroughly recommend it. Do so at:
www.justgiving.com/joekingstonlee
Thanks!
Day Zero.
To Land's End
The day before the big start was spent buying last minute supplies, and then travelling down to Penzance to stay for the night. Every adventure has an exciting beginning (well any adventure written by George Lucas) and this was no exception. Keen to stock up on carbs before the big off, I ate a big plate of pasta. Unfortunately it took longer than the 10 minutes I had scheduled to pack my equipment, so the leisurely cycle from Bath to Bristol train station turned into a frantic sprint with little over an hour to cover the 14 mile journey.
No exciting beginning to an adventure is complete without good music, so I put Muse's 'Knights of Cydonia' on my mp3 player to fire me up, and take my mind off the hundredweight of pasta and garlic bread festering in my gut. I managed to catch the train with seconds to spare, bunny hopping in through the moving train door and retrieving my hat that had fallen behind me on my entrance to the train behind the closing train doors. (This is in fact a dramatisation of the facts: I arrived at the train station with 4 minutes to spare and felt mildly idiotic when my bags fell off my bike on the station platform. I did feel like Indiana Jones though.)
The train journey was fairly uneventful but full of excitable banter about the adventure ahead. It was on the train though that Mark explained in detail the stool retention problems he had had over the last few days thanks to him drinking what was described as 'Yellow Water'. I began to worry that maybe Mark wasn't in a fit state to complete a 1400km cycle ride...
For those of you who prefer their updates in limerick form, here is the day zero limerick:
The adventure began on day zero,
We didn't have time to go to Cafe Nero,
Mark and Andy arrived early for the train,
But Joe had to cycle fast in the rain,
And with 4 minutes to spare he felt like a hero
(Just realised that this isn't a Limerick, but am too tired to think of any more lines, so please accept it for what it is.)
superb pace guys, shame about the sickness, hope that irons itself out.
Bring on Scotland! And pictures!
WOW Well done Joe!!better late then never to post a comment but did not know this existed until about three hours ago.. since then i have been fixed to reading your exciting adventures!!very proud to have an extremely determined brother, keep it up!! love Rosi xx