Scotland

Lewis & Harris

Posted 3rd February 2026 by sloeburn

28/06/24 – 05/07/24

Having failed to get this far when I first visited the Outer Hebrides I came back. This time on foot as I thought getting here by bike would be a nightmare if not impossible, although I now think the Inverness – Ullapool bus takes them, although it may be a bit pot luck.

I arrived on a Sunday so most things were closed, the Stornoway Tesco being the exception. I walked a non-trivial distance in wind and rain to a campsite marked on the map which turned out not to exist, so I wild camped on the dunes and made use of the unlocked facilities at the sports ground opposite. In retrospect I should have just set up camp in their covered stand. Thank you Coll sports club.

Next day was back to Stornoway to catch a bus (well, two) down to Leverburgh at the south end of Harris. The weather was awful but there’s a little brewery/taproom/café so I spent a pleasant souple of hours there, before taking the bus a little way back up to road so I could visit the visitors centre at Northton.

Waiting for the next bus north and wondering around I saw what I think was a Hen Harrier catch an oystercatcher. Some other oystercatchers gave pursuit but I doubt they were successful. Next stop was Horgabost campsite, where the weather produced some amazing light and clouds.

The next day I took the bus north, indeed as far north as possible. The sun came out and I managed a dip in the sea at Port of Ness.

There’s a campsite at Eoropie, but they don’t have any facilities. I found one of the owners and he explained that there was a sports centre not too far away and he’d leave a bike out for me so I could cycle over and use their facilities if I wanted. Unfortunately things didn’t line up with my functions, so the trowel was deployed. The place was completely mad, with weird stuff everywhere. I walked over to Dun Eistean (although the bridge was closed so not possible to get over) before and the spending the evening in strange company, listening to corncrakes and watching a short eared owl.

Next day it was a walk up to the Butt of Lewis lighthouse, before taking the bus south.

Lewis bus stops – shelter whatever angle the wind is coming from

I got off at the Barvas turn off and walked towards Shawbost. A brief stop at a restored Shieling before visiting the Blackhouse museum near Arnol.

Accommodation in the summer while looking after the sheep

A couple of brief stops at things I’d seen marked on the map; a Broch in Loch an Duna, and a whale bone (marked as ‘arch’). In 1920 a whale’s corpse was washed up with a harpoon in its head.

Got to the campsite at Shawbost which was fairly busy.

Now I was heading back towards Stornoway. The weather was bad and the bus times didn’t allow me to stop off at Callanish with anything approaching sensible timings. This was something of a bugger. The visitors centre wasn’t open, so if I stopped I would have been stuck there for hours with no shelter from the rain, so reluctantly stayed on the bus to Stornoway. It was times like this where a bike would have been so useful, and I did miss having it. The bus station did left luggage for a few £ so I was able to leave my heavy stuff there and visit the Lews Castle and Museum nan Eilean. They have a few Lewis chess pieces, and there was an exhibition about those who emigrated to the Americas – very sobering to see this from the point of view of these people and something a certain DJT seems to need reminding of.

There’s campsite just outside Stornoway at Laxdale (should have stayed there the first night!) which was again fairly busy but nice with good facilities.

Ferry back to Ullapool where I camped, again the weather was a bit unfriendly. Seems like a nice town and good to see the ferries coming and going in Loch Broom.

Finally the bus to Inverness and trains back to Leeds.

Moffat Toffee 200 km 20th Anniversary

Posted 26th January 2026 by sloeburn

07/06/25

If you haven’t tried it, Moffat Toffee is a swollen tetrahedral boiled sweet, which manages to be simultaneously caramel and sherbert. As far as I know, because I have never seen it anywhere else, it is only available in the Moffat Toffee shop. But it’s also a 200 km audax.

The 10th anniversary ride was my first 200 km; my first audax points; the ride I became a randonneur. It had personal significance too, as I had grown up in this area but was never a ‘sporty’ person who would do something like this. I knew the places and the roads, but from the back seat of a car.

At the start of 2025 I was momentarily gripped by inspiration, and entered a few rides that I thought I could build up to. In the middle of this careful planning the 20th anniversary Moffat Toffee ride popped up, and I thought it would just about fit in between the others. Well, unsurprisingly my optimistic plans fell apart after a lack of preparation (and a good dose of life happening as well) so I scrapped most of the plans but held on to this one ride. Two weeks after it I would be facing a 24 hour (at least) run/walk so I thought it would be good training, if only in being knackered. And there’s the other thing; the bike. Well; trike. The plan of attack involved a second hand, and I suspect very much Trigger’s Broom, ICE Sprint trike. So far I had only done a couple of 50 km rides on it. I knew I was slow, so went into it with the aim of finishing, however long it took. The fact that Lucy had opted for a postal finish (or e-brevet) was ideal, and meant I didn’t have to worry about someone waiting up for me.

I hired a car and drove to a campsite in Melrose. The trike folds to fit (just) in the back of a small/medium car with the back seats down. There is no way you could get one of these buggers on a train.

Because I had the car, I drove to the start rather than cycling, knowing that I would be glad of it later. I found a public car park just around the corner from the depart, got everything together and made my way to Galashiels McDonalds. A small field (around 25) set out, and the only time I saw any of the others was when they were on the return journey and I was still heading out.

This ride was an out and back, to Wanlockhead (Scotland’s highest village, centre of gold panning, and the destination of local school trips). I don’t usually like retracing my steps but seeing the route from the opposite direction is almost the same as seeing from new. I hadn’t gone too far before realising I’d left my water in the back of the car. First stop was St Mary’s Loch cafe to buy a couple of bottles.

Water everywhere apart from with me in bottles

It was wet. No avoiding that. For the most part an ongoing light drizzle, but in Moffat for the first time it properly chucked it down. The usual control cafe, the Rumblin’ Tum, wasn’t taking any more customers as they were very busy and understaffed, so I went a few doors up the high street to the next one. They were strangely quiet – possibly because they are cash only. I thought about turning around here and heading back to Galashiels, but there was a little demon on my shoulder telling me I was supposed to be being audacious, which made me keep going.

The wonderfully named Green Hill Stairs is a road between the Devil’s Beeftub and the M74. I had expected this to be an awful climb but actually it was fine both ways, just a long slow slog. Once past the bit of NCN 7 on the old service road the route took the B7040 to Leadhills and Wanlockhead. I think I’d only come here from the west road before so this was new. Of particular interest was what looked like a little church by Shortcleuch Water – I’ll have to pay another visit to find out. The cafe in Wanlockhead was a bit dispiriting as it is down at the bottom of a steep hill. The was an ultra run on at the same time, so I saw lots of bedraggled people heading in to the outdoor centre. As I was due to take part in something similar in the Cotswolds a week later this did not fill me with optimism.

The return to Moffat was straightforward, and a visit to the Co-op sufficient. By now I had told Lucy that I wouldn’t be back in time; the e-brevet helpfully told me the same! My main memory of the return over the A708 was towards the end when it was getting dark and I had to engage my tyre dynamo. When sorting out my trike I was able to fit a dynamo front light that I already owned, but the cost of a hub dynamo for it was eye-wateringly expensive (understandable, it’s a niche bit of kit) so I thought I’d try a relatively cheap wheel version. It worked; my light lit up. It also possessed the handy feature of letting me know how fast I was going by the noise it made. At least you only need to engage it when the light is required, in contrast to a hub which is ‘always on’.

Earlier I had enjoyed seeing martins, swallows and swifts, but now the fast flittering things were bats. What looked like a badger family crossed the road in front of me. Happily McDonads was still open when I finally got back to Galashiels. I was very glad I had the car here, plus a head torch to load the trike. As well as leaving my water in the car, I had also forgotten to bring any shower gel. I’ve stayed in enough campsites to hope there would be a random bottle that someone had left behind, but the Melrose Gibson site facilities are very clean and tidy so there was nothing lying around. Wearing only my cycling shorts I used the dispenser by the handwash sinks to coat myself in soap, and then rinsed it off, which was surprisingly effective.

Next morning I found a nice place open for breakfast in Melrose, then drove home via my parents south of Moffat who provided yet more sustenance. Despite it raining for a good part of the day I managed to catch some sun on my legs.

After finishing my first Moffat Toffee 200 km I felt that I could justify the purchase of an Audax UK jersey; it was a significant achievement for me. Ten years later I’m happy to be audacious enough to try it on a recumbent trike, even if I finish out of time. For me, audax is about finding, and stretching, your limits. Other people have different limits, and that’s fine.

201 km, 1,847 m ascent, 13 hours

Ayrshire and the Firth of Clyde

Posted 1st January 2025 by sloeburn

03 – 14/06/24

I have wanted to take a ferry from Ardrossan to Campbeltown and ride up the west coast for several years, but the summer-only service keeps becoming a never service. This was an attempt to go this sort of way anyway, starting at the Mull of Galloway and heading north. I was over-ambitious and it didn’t quite work out as planned, so I spent some time on Arran and Bute instead.

This trip featured midges, rain, an eye that was stuck closed overnight and a fungal cycling short issue.

A glimpse of the Barr Hill from the train

Dirniemow Bridge – felt like I was in The 39 Steps here

Cuckoo at Dirniemow

Excellent shop and PO in Dailly doing filled rolls

Lumpy bit from Maybole over Brown Carrick Hill

Breakfast in Brodick; Troon Ferry on the left

Border Ride

Posted 11th January 2024 by sloeburn

03 – 08/09/23

03/09/23 Carlisle – Gretna – Longtown

Train to Carlisle and then a short ride (once the way out of Carlisle was located, always problematic) to the coast near Gretna where I failed to find the Lochmaben stone. More appropriate footwear was required. Oakbank Lakes campsite was rather expensive, and charged an extra £5 to use the facilities. What else was I going to do, crap on the grass?

Border crossings: 2

04/09/23 Longtown – Kielder

A long slow slog through the forests of Kershope/Newcastleton/Kielder. A fully loaded drop bar bike was not optimal here. The top is quite funny; Forestry and Land Scotland and Forestry England have their tracks going up from their respective sides to the border, and then there’s a grudging bit of single track joining them together. Didn’t see another soul all the way through the forest track. Stayed at the lovely Kielder Village campsite.

Border crossings: 4

05/09/23 Kielder – Yetholm

Another considerable climb with some walking required. Given the number of walkers turning up randomly here (Pennine Way, St Cuthbert’s Way) I was expecting the campsite to be a little more relaxed, but I can’t complain as I found their website, booked a night and had an email telling me where to pitch all very swiftly at Kirkfield Caravan Park.

Border crossings: 1

06/09/23 Yetholm – Berwick-upon-Tweed

A short day to Berwick, found the Seaview site which most mostly vans and caravans with a small grass strip for tents, then spent a bit of time wandering around the town and getting a train ticket for the return journey home.

Border crossings: 3

Helping at the Highland Fling featuring 200 and 100 km

Posted 4th March 2023 by sloeburn

28/04/22 – 01/05/22

Train to Skipton to avoid the less pleasant roads before what I should have registered as a DIY 200 km. Unfortunately I didn’t take any photos of the comedy off-road section just after Gargrave, amazed that I didn’t come off.

210 km, 13 hours

The reason for the trip was to help out on the Highland Fling 1000 km at the overnight stop in Caste Douglas in the Gordon Memorial Hall, along with Les and Andy, and run by Windy. Pretty much spent all night making sure there was hot and not-too-soggy pasta at all times. Quite an interesting experience to see the pointy end of the ride (I’m never going to be there otherwise). Photos by Windy and Dean.

First section of the return journey was a detour to visit a proposed section of LEL, which Andy had been telling me about at the control. He had un-recommended it for that because of very bad road surfaces (which it had) and it was indeed rejected before the final route was published. I tool a wrong turn somewhere and didn’t quite go the way intended, but these were new roads for me despite being just outside Lockerbie.

I have long wanted to try following the train line along the Settle – Carlisle route, which I did once I was through Carlisle. Stuck to the rail line as closely as possible but called it a day at Langwathby, which was around the 100 km mark, plus it gets a bit fussy around here and Appleby.

110 km, 21.1 kph average

Island hopping

Posted 26th February 2023 by sloeburn

Well the logistics for this trip were quite something (mainly to do with Colonsay sailings); and then subject to last minute changes with ferries cancelled after COVID outbreaks. Amazing weather and multiple sea swims.

18/08/21 – Leeds to Lochranza

Train to Ardrossan for the ferry.

loaded touring bike in Ardrossan — Arran and Ailsa Craig to the left

Ferry from Ardrossan to Arran — Arran and Ailsa Craig to the left

After arriving in Brodick I took The String road over the middle of the island, then followed the coast north to Lochranza, where I had camped many years ago with my sisters. This time we had the company of some deer, at which point someone (the campsite manager?) fired a shot into the air to scare them off – apparently they have been fed by some campers and as a consequence were coming too close to the tents. So having a stag startled by a gun shot running around a campsite is going to help?

50 km, 13.6 kph average

19/08/21 Lochranza – Port Charlotte

Ferry to the, er, shaft of Scotland and a trip across the girth, to the day’s second ferry to Islay.

Ferry from Lochranza to Claonaig — Ferry ready to leave Lochranza

Bike on ferry — Ferry ready to leave Lochranza

It was hard work, probably due to lack of fitness than anything else, but I eventually arrived at the excellent community pub/cafe/campsite/sports ground in Port Charlotte.

36 km, 15.8 kph average (my notebook says ‘hmm, felt like a bit more than that’; I assume I was referring to the distance)

20/08/21 Port Charlotte – Bowmore

On my way out from the campsite I stopped at the shop in Port Charlotte for some supplies, and the chap running it came out and said “it’s an unwritten rule that if anyone stops on an interesting looking bike I come out and take a look”. Well that’s a good rule in my book. He admired my mud flap, clocked the AUK badges on the panniers and we had a chat about the ride on Islay I remembered reading about in Ariveé.

Sign on shop in Port Charlotte — Shop/PO/petrol station/audax conversation…

Bike in front of Bruichladdich distillery — Shop/PO/petrol station/audax conversation…

A mild, windy day but it was mostly helpful as from the SW. I rode a loop around Kilchoman and had a paddle in the sea at Machar Bay, which wasn’t too cold.

Stopped at the RSPB visitors centre at Gruinart – it was open but unstaffed and the toilets were closed. My biggest issue now was a water supply, I was hoping to have been able to find some here. Rode up the west side of Loch Gruinart, which became increasingly gravelly. I’m pretty sure there would have been a great wild camping spot further on, but it would have been a walk for a few miles with no sign of water, so I decided to backtrack and got to the shop in Bridgend, by which time it had started to rain properly. The old woman in front of me at the till had lost her specs, and asked if any had been handed in. The staff member in fact had two ownerless pairs, and held one up, asking if they were the ones, to which the woman responded “I don’t know, I cannae see”.

On to Bowmore where I had a wander around and found that the church had an outside tap. There is a swimming pool here which I though might be useful for shower purposes but still in COVID times the opening hours were quite limited. There’s a public toilet anyway in the centre.

Then cycled out to Gartrack, again a gravel road once past the tip. A house here looked uninhabited, and I pitched my tent just above a small rocky beach. Quite a wind and I’m glad of the tent modifications I had made (extra tie-out points for guy lines to keep the back fly away from the inner).

57 km, 14.8 kph average

21/08/21 Bowmore – Port Ellen

Took the main road from Bowmore to Port Ellen, which goes past the airport, then followed the three distilleries cyclepath to Ardbeg at the end. A taste of An Oa much appreciated as it was quite wet.

Stop off at Kintra beach where there was a closed campsite and had a swim in the sea, place deserted (source of earwigs to be encountered later). Views of the posh island hotel across the links.

A hard and rough ride to the Mull of Oa, RSPB reserve and home of choughs, which I’ve never seen before. Also a memorial to Americans lost in two ship sinkings.

Back down to the Singing Sands just outside Port Ellen, for a wild camp on the dunes.

62 km, 13.8 kph average

22/08/21 Port Ellen – Port Charlotte

Breakfast on a picnic table in Port Ellen, then took the back road back to Bowmore, to find a load of classic cars posing in front of the distillery on a ‘Skyfall’ tour.

Stop off in Bruichladdich on the way back to the Port Charlotte campsite, to use the laundry facilities.

The morning’s dampness had cleared to give great views across to the Oa and beyond (Ireland?).

39 km, 15.7 kph average

23/08/21 Portnahaven

Paid a visit to the Port Charlotte natural history centre, and then cycled a loop around to Portnahaven.

Burials of various ages.

Nerabus burial ground (14th or 15th century)

Back to the campsite for another swim in my own little bay.

30 km, 13.6 kph average

24/08/21 Port Charlotte – Jura

Over to Jura today.

Went as far north as Lagg Bay, would have liked to have had more time and go as far as possible but the ferry to Colonsay determined timings.

Down to Curran sands for another swim. Seemed warmer here and nothing but sand.

Camped in the field behind the beach, had to retreat into the tent as the midges were out in force.

77 km, 15.6 kph average

25/08/21 Jura – Colonsay

Midges were still around in the morning so as quick a pack up as possible.

Back to Feolin for the little ferry to Port Askaig. Stopped off at a church and the village hall to find water but without success, met a couple touring on Bromptons who were looking for the same thing. I would later bump into them a few times on Colonsay.

There were lots of bikes heading to Colonsay.

Left the bike to walk up to the top of the hill above Scalasaig, Beinn nan Gudairean (136 m, I think the second highest peak on the island).

Rode the long way (it’s all relative) via Kilchattan to Kiloran Bay, and had yet another swim.

Headed further north to find somewhere to camp (no campsites on the island), the track was very sandy in places so hard work even pushing. Lots of cows grazing and I had to keep going to find somewhere to stop that was clear of possible bull disruption. Eventually stopped by a little bay, Port Skibinis. There was a standing stone on the nearby hill, and a fish made out of stones that I later learned is the Colonsay Whale (ok not a fish).

34 km, 12.1 kph average (lots of pushing)

26/08/21 Colonsay – Oban

Up as the sun rose and had my one and only trowel use of the trip. Retraced my steps (literally), and met a farmer and sheep dogs on a quad bike, I guess I must have slept in his farm’s field.

Down to the south end of the island and a walk across The Strand at low tide to Oronsay. The sun was hot and I was flagging so didn’t get to explore properly; only on the return to Scalasaig and coffee, irn bru, soup and panini did I realise I had been running on empty.

Ferry back to Oban through some eerie mist.

26 km, 11.6 kph average

27 – 30/08/21 Oban – stop off at HQ – home

Had a day in Oban so rode up to the viewpoint at Pulpit Hill, and visited the town Museum, which is the classic volunteer run over-stuffed gem. Travelled to Lockerbie the next day and had a night with the parent before heading home.

Trip total distance 460 km

Cairngorms

Posted 3rd January 2022 by sloeburn

Late September 2020 (which turned out to be the coldest for over 20 years in Aviemore)

Glenmore Campsite

Ben Macdui and Cairn Gorm

Around Loch Morlich and Loch an Eilein

Packraft hire on Loch Morlich

Hebrides

Posted 12th December 2021 by sloeburn

31/08/19 Train to Oban

Camping at the nearest place I could find.

01/09/19 Barra

Ferry to Castlebay on Barra. First couple of hours were nice; smooth and mostly sunny, through the gap between Mull and the mainland. Then it got choppy and wet, but outer islands visible. Lovely evening once on Barra, cycled down to Vatersay for a wild camp above the beach.

Oban and loading:

Ferry journey:

Barra and Vatersay:

02/09/19 Barra for an unplanned second night

Vatersay and Barra the next morning, when the weather started:

Memorial to those on a plane that crashed on Vatersay in 1944. Amazing that the bits of plane are still here.

A stop-off at the airport for a cafe visit, where the wifi informed me that the ferries to Eriskay were cancelled. Headed to a campsite a bit further north.

03/09/19 Catholics and Causeways

Ferries to Eriskay operational.

Crossing to South Uist.

A lot of catholic stuff.

Relentless wind and rain, nothing out there to the west to temper it. MOD area on the north west of South Uist, and the crossing over to Benbecula.

Over on North Uist there is nothing catholic whatsoever.

After a real slog through the wind and rain finally arrived at the campsite on the RSPB reserve at Balranald.

04/09/19 – Refuge from the storm

By some miracle my tent didn’t blow away in the night, but there was no way I was going to try cycling anywhere in the still gale-force winds. I splashed out on a happily available camping pod for the next night (well I got in there as soon as I could); I have never appreciated a roof over my head quite as much as this. The wind seemed to be considered severe by local standards, so I don’t think I was too much of a wimp. I wasn’t expecting electricity, a mini kitchen, or feathered friends, so these were luxury.

Impressed by the people (gravediggers?) working outside during it all.

05/09/19 (over the sea) to Skye

Feeling a bit weather-battered I thought my original plan to go on up to Lewis was a bit optimistic, so headed to Lochmaddy for the ferry to Skye (no ferries from Lewis connect with trains, I’d have to return to the mainland at Ullapool and then cycle some distance to pick up the train line).

An old microwave being used as a mailbox — Mailbox

Chambered cairn on north uist — Chambered cairn

Had a bit of time in Lochmaddy and had a look through the Runrig archive at the excellent local community centre/cafe/etc. Also home to the most friendly cat I have ever met.

On arrival in Uig it was dark and cold, but the petrol station shop had Cairn o’Mhor wine, so it wasn’t all bad.

06/09/19 Skye

Weather improved from today. Rode to Portree which was busy, seemed to be a music festival on. Sat in a bus shelter for quote a while and managed to get new train tickets home from Kyle of Lochalsh. The cheapest option turned out to be a seated ticket on the Sleeper from Inverness to Preston, which I was quite excited by.

Then on to Sligachan campsite for a couple of nights.

07/09/19 Skye

Sun today, and an unloaded ride up to Dunvegan and back, including a stop at a great coffee/book shop (at Struan I think).

The castle area/car park was really busy, but I wasn’t that interested so went a bit further up the road (the quality of which declines suddenly after the car park) to try and see the castle. Only afterwards did I learn that my friend’s Mother lives along this road. It (the castle) is quite hidden away and from the distance I was at, somewhat underwhelming.

Nice cloudless views over the Cullins on the out and back ride.

Balls of wool in an egg box — Bought this wool at a gallery/craft shop. Still (Dec 2021) haven’t done anything with it yet.

Dinner and lubrication in the Sligachan hotel this evening, both of which were excellent.

08/09/19 Skye to Kyle of Lochalsh

This was the only unpleasant cycling of the trip caused by other traffic, the road was busy and there were a lot of close passes. I think a lot of folk had come up for the weekend at the last minute for the nice weather. And were in a hurry to get home. There were a couple of young lads on what can only be optimistically described as motorbikes, who I was more of less keeping up with due to the number of stops they had to make.

Stopped at a nice cafe in Broadford, and then a bit of a mooch around in Kyleakin.

Lighthouse and trig point from the Skye bridge — Spot the trig point – must be one of the lowest.

Then over the bridge, and a last few miles to a campsite.

09/09/19 Kyle of Lochalsh and the Sleeper home

A wet morning, and fortunately I arrived at the station in plenty of time as the bike reservation I had made by phone hadn’t gone through, which sounded like a fairly normal occurrence. Nice little museum there.

Unicorn sticker on bike handlebars — Someone put this unicorn sticker on my handlebars while I was enjoying a cooked breakfast in the dry. It’s still there (2021).

Had time to meet up with Kirsteen in Inverness, before getting the Sleeper to Preston, where I spent an uncomfortable couple of hours before an early train to Leeds.

New Border Raid 600 km….Super Randonneur!

Posted 9th September 2018 by sloeburn

14-15/07/18

The roads at around 380 km were those I used to pedal in my youth, riding down to swim in the river, and then up what I thought at the time was a hill to get back home, or just going for a bike ride with my siblings, creating legends such as ‘the dog house’ and ‘the dark woods’. A bit older, but still on the same bike, I commuted to work on the Ayrshire coast and, depending on the weather, enjoyed the views (or not) of Ailsa Craig. Secondary school was in Dumfries; Duke of Edinburgh expeditions took in Galloway Forest. There was something special in finally completing a 600 km and an SR series that took in these places. If I’d been able to tell my often uncomfortable (and certainly much less fit) teenage self that one day I’d be passing through as part of a ride like this I’m sure they would have been astounded. If only I had bumped into my old PE teacher…

Accommodation at the start and finish was excellent, right on-site and cheap, it was at a college which did some sort of animal husbandry so there were some very noisy peacocks (and possibly other mystery birds that I couldn’t see behind a fence), they were still active when I arrived about 10 pm but fortunately shut up once it got dark. And we had to be up early anyway… There were several bikes in the shared kitchen when I got there but I didn’t meet any of the owners until afterwards.

Kirkley – Dumfries: the Bad Patch

I usually have one, so maybe it’s best to get it out of the way early on. The first bit of an audax is often uncomfortable, ‘warming up’ I suppose even if that does extend to 100 km. I just wasn’t in the mood really. It was technically a lovely morning early on as we gathered in Kirkley, and riding along Hadrians Wall should have enthused me more than it did. I tried to keep an eye on the ditches and occasional bits of actual wall. You can certainly see why it was built here, with the land dropping away to either side of this straight east-west road. The world to both sides seemed to be brighter but we were in a bit of a cloudy fug with a headwind. I don’t imagine it was much fun as a Roman sentry either.

This was a long stage at 140 km, a cafe had been highlighted but also sounded like it would be slow which is the last thing a full-valuer like me needs early on, so I plodded on a bit further until I felt really quite crap and stoped for my flapjack. I had wanted to hold on until Longtown but had a stop there too, at the petrol station which might not be the nicest but I have grown attached to from previous visits.

The rest of the stage was at least flat and now sunny; after Gretna the road was unfamiliar and I had a short period of panic that I’d missed the info control and my 600 km would be invalid…then I remembered that Bankend was near Glencaple which is near Dumfries and so I’d just been expecting it too soon. It was obvious in the end.

The advised control was St Michaels petrol station but I had planned to go to Morrisons and use the cafe and toilets, then at the last minute I remembered there was a Costa and I really craved a cold coffee/milkshake thing, so weaved through Brooms Road car park to the centre. I was served by Margaret who was in my youngest sister’s year at primary school and whose family lived around the corner from mine. I’m sure she didn’t know who I was, I’ve changed a lot more than she has. I don’t think a chocolate muffin was what I was going to order but it was all a bit weird and the first thing that came out of my mouth. I got my frosty-coffee thing at least so was happy.

Dumfries – Newton Stewart: the Queen’s Drive and the quietist A roads

The food and proper sit-down perked me up and the bad patch was over.

Leaving the ‘fries I saw Bob Bialek walking with his bike up past the entrance to Dock Park, towards the petrol station control, so I wondered if he’d missed it and had to go back, although to be going at the same speed as me would be pretty unusual. I think I heard afterwards that he packed so maybe he was going to the train station. I don’t know what happened but I think he’d done 1000 km the previous weekend, and obviously ridden to Kirkley from Halifax. The man is a legend.

I was a little unconfident in some of the route sheet instructions out of town but eventually convinced I was on the right ‘military road’. I thought this was entirely unfamiliar but passed a house that I remember from visiting on Spring Fling (local art festival) with stone sculptures. Crossing the road at Crocketford was definitely familiar.

I stopped in New Galloway and after going up and down the high street spotted a community shop which actually looked amazing; I just had a can of coke. Later on at the finish I heard Aiden’s (the org) story of stopping at a garage here in the dark in search for oil for his chain which resulted in ‘controlling’ at Newton Stewart police station.

It was a great ride on to NS, this is an A road and was in good condition but so quiet. Galloway forest park is a dark sky area and I started thinking about whether this could be incorporated into a night ride.

Newton Stewart – Girvan: descent towards the sea and Ailsa Craig

I had had studied the route for this ride more than any before, possibly just because I’d had the time. I’d looked at each control on google street view and had found the Co-op in Newton Stewart which I headed straight for (it’s not on the route but not far off it). Co-ops are what I always look for. This one had a bike rack in front, and I sat on the pavement for a while with my standard fuel (cheese savoury sandwich). A bit after I arrived came Leicester Forest man and Bahamas woman, who I would see and occasionally pass regularly for the rest of the ride.

This really was ‘retrace to R sp Girvan 50 km’ (or whatever), just follow another very quiet A road all the way there.

My brain was doing a bit of juggling now, and I was remembering hearing Trembling Bells’ ‘Christ’s entry into Govan’ on radio 6 and getting this a bit muddled with what I was now doing, which was an excellent descent into Girvan (for clarity I was not assuming the position of Christ), complete with views of what I thought was Arran but looking at the map was more likely to be the Campbeltown peninsula, and then Ailsa Craig.

Girvan – Dalrymple: regulars and company

At Girvan Asda (not Tesco as suggested by the routesheet, I was glad I had done my homework as these seemingly minor things can be unreasonably disturbing when totally fucked) a few of us had gathered. Someone spotted an outside tap although there was no indication as to what it dispensed. One chap was keen to head off in company and (much as it is against my usual desires) I was also ready to go, and we ended up riding to Kirkonnel together. I think his name was Martin but then most people’s names were.

Dalrymple is a little place so they may have been surprised by the plague of locusts.

Dalrymple – Kirkconnel: towards Chilli

Arriving in Kirkconnel I was again glad I had spent time swotting over google streetview. We hadn’t been given an exact location or name of the hall, but looking at the main street there seemed only one possibility. I would never have spotted it in the dark without my homework.

Inside was a wonderful welcome, and some very nice chilli.

Martin (and many of the others arriving around the same time) were stopping off here at the ‘official’ sleep stop (and bag drop location). I had other plans so after eating left alone for a fast straight ride as far as Auldgirth, after which there was a more lumpy section taking me off-route to my childhood home, a bed settee and a few hours sleep. I got into bed about 2.30 am (ahead of schedule) and knew I had to leave by 7 am to be sure of making the next control at Lockerbie truck stop. My parents had wanted to see me before I left so I took them a cup of tea at 6.30 am before raiding the muesli supplies.

Home – Lockerbie – Melrose: a new day

It was a little odd being on these familiar roads in an unfamiliar situation. The morning looked like rain might have been under consideration. I passed Julian (of VC167) on my way to the control, he’s a proper ancient but also an unusual example of someone who is a little slower than me. I wondered if he’d slept at all. The control at Lockerbie Truck Stop was almost bounced as I’d only been going about half an hour. There were quite a few riderless bikes outside. I was a little unsure of the next turn off on the route sheet so decided to stay on the lumpy boring road straight to Moffat. Next stop would be St Mary’s loch, where I made use of the picnic tables outside the cafe. A few motorbikers stopped too and we had a quick chat, one of them admiring my ‘cycology’ cap. I have absolutely no interest in motorbikes but I think in some way we were enjoying the same things.

I could have taken a main road short cut towards Melrose but I need to be really confident of these things before I go off-route. I hate having to retrace my steps so rarely risk it. Got to Melrose Co-op around the same time as a few others, again it’s become ‘the’ Melrose control for me so I didn’t bother looking for a cafe, even if that might have been nicer.

Melrose – Kelso – Wooler – Alnwick: the Learning Phase

The road surface out of Melrose was disgraceful. I hadn’t been to Kelso before and sorry to say I didn’t really see much of it this time, apart from a visit to a huge supermarket to use their toilet and fill my water bottle. I did buy an apple but they probably made a loss on me. Leaving I passed a posh car dealership being built…it looks like the place is ‘on the up’ but I’m not sure where the jobs are around here to fund it.

By Wooler it was baking hot, which I didn’t really realise until I stopped. There were a few of us at the Co-op with ice creams, I huddled in the shade of a doorway for a while. I donated some suncream to a couple of others; for me it needs to be high factor and slathered everywhere, they just wanted a bit for their noses. There was some discussion about the routesheet instruction to turn left ‘opposite’ the shop, which was not entirely clear. Anyway since those I had been in disussion with left before me I simply waited until they didn’t come back, at which point I decided that was the correct road after all.

Now I had studied this route really well. But I was entirely unprepared for the stupid hills on this section to Alnwick. I believe my words on arrival in the town where a couple of others had stopped were “what the fuck was that about?” It was ‘rolling’, by which I mean it was all either up or down, the downs were never that good and the ups were always of the kind that greet you as a vertical wall of tarmac as you approach. My brain saw each one and told it where to go. But somehow my legs were acting independently and kept going again and again. It’s good to know they can do that.

Alnwick – Kirkley: home straight

Quite understandably there isn’t much open in a small north east town on a Sunday afternoon. But I spotted a Costa in Alnwick and secured (in the loosest sense of the word) my bike to a drain pipe outside. One of the others overlapped with me here who was also called Martin.

I don’t recall much about the final stretch, I had already ridden from Morpeth to the Arrivee on Friday evening so while it was familiar it also seemed to drag on. We finished where we started at the cafe at Kirkley cycles, where the proprietors had opened both early and late for us. Beans on toast with cheese was much appreciated, along with a beer.

This was my aim for the year, an SR. It seemed a bit of an anticlimax, certainly compared to LEL which I didn’t complete; finishing this was a bit meh from an achievement point of view. But it was a great route and I’m thinking it might be a good one for qualifying for PBP next year…

Staying at the college was excellent, knowing there was a bed there and being able to leave stuff in the room while we were away took a lot of potential organisational stress away (no doubt merely transferred to the org). I had planned on going to sleep ASAP but ended up on one of the picnic benches outside with a few others helping to minimise the number of bottles of beer that Aiden had to carry back with him tomorrow. And of course the peacocks were still awake.

600 km, 37 hours 30 mins