Day 8: Kilmarnock to Inverary

Total: 81.7 miles
Time in saddle: 5 hrs 27 mins
Average speed: 15.5 mph
Maximum speed: 34.7 mph
Cumulative: 693 miles
Chafing rating: 4.5/5 (ARRGGHH. Nurse!)

Yes! Colin can no longer regale the breakfast table with tales of my nocturnal noises. In the middle of the night he woke me with a loud “Whahaaay!”. I suspect he was dreaming of [... Alistair and Nigel, please keep it clean ...] cycling down a steep hill with the wind at his back. This was after quite a night on the red wine, in which he managed to slur out a challenge to John and me to take Craig and him on in a time trial before we reach John O’Groats. Now, a few months ago, this is the sort of challenge I would have accepted, but I am getting sensible in my old age and declined, in favour of raising my chances of reaching the end. 

Besides, one of the things I have loved about this trip is the camaraderie and teamwork, of which Colin is a key part. This always would have been a great adventure, but has been made more so by the way we have all supported each other and I am sure we are all in better shape because of it.

Morning preparations at the Park Hotel, Kilmarnock

But this morning we were given some crushing news. It was Day 8 and the schedule had been for us to take the small ferry about a mile across the Firth of Clyde from Gourock to Dunoon. We heard that the weather was unsuitable and the ferry had been cancelled, meaning we would have to sit in a coach for 3 hours, which would transport us, via Glasgow, to our next venue. You could hear the spirit of the group hit the ground with a morose thud. For those of us (all of us) with a sense of completeness, this, in my view, scuppered any claims we might have of completing Land’s End to John O’Groats. This is not what I signed up for and nor is it what my supporters have sponsored . To make matters worse, we were preparing for the day under a clear blue sky. Nick wondered, "Is sunshine regarded as adverse weather in Scotland?" 

It was with this news that we set off to Gourock anyway, just in case. John and I hosted a quick conference with a few other riders and resolved to find a way to Dunoon by hook or by crook. We would have paid a lorry driver to run us around and completed the ride at night, or chartered a boat. Somehow we would get there and we would not be denied the cycling. 

Riding with this uncertaintly was not much fun, but local pastor, Alistair, at 65 the oldest LEJOGGER in our group, was joined by his friend, John, for a few miles, and members of his congregation stood beside the road for the first 10 miles cheering us on. What a great gesture, as we were battling fierce winds and chilly autumnal air at the time. But for Alistair’s friend the morning ended terribly. He was just coming to a stop, after waving us on at his peeling off point, when his front wheel went down a drain whose cover had been placed the wrong way, leaving the slots running parallel with the road. He went straight over the handlebars, landed on his face and knocked himself unconscious. He also knocked out two teeth, and as of this evening, is waiting for the swelling to go down so that an X-Ray might determine if he has fractured his cheekbone.

This crash occurred behind me and I only found out about it when a series of sickened witnesses joined us at Nardinis tea room in Largs. We had all been blown left, right and centre by a screaming north-easterly as we rode along the shore of the Firth of Clyde, west of Kilmarnock, where the wind has sculpted the tops of the trees like giant waves. We are pointedly aware that any one of us could have an accident like John, especially in the winds up here. It only takes one pothole, one poorly positioned bike or one overlapping wheel to bring down one or more cyclists, injuring ourselves or destroying our bikes and bringing to a premature end our LEJOG adventure. Total concentration is vital. I hope this group is rewarded in the end for its teamwork with everyone crossing the line in one piece.

Coffee at Nardinis in Largs: Brian, Nick, John, Matt, Lizzie

Largs, apart from having too many consonants and not enough vowels - and the letters in the wrong order (it’s an altogether unsatisfactory name for a town), contains a shop which lays claim to being the largest shop in the world. Nick spotted this. He has a knack for this. He spotted a sign with a tree painted on it championing the “World famous Arbor tree” in Shropshire, but he didn’t see the tree. Nor did he see The Massive Onion advertised on a sign he spotted near Preston. This time he did see the shop and thought it was no bigger than the Co-op in Orpington. We wondered if it was a pun on the name Largs. Was it the LARGest shop with a soft ‘g’? It’s one thing putting up with a town name that looks like a typo, but considerably worse not working hard enough on one’s puns.

With Nick: those glasses help Nick spot a silly sign from a mile away (photo by Jo and Sarah)

The hoped-for ferry crossing required us to be put under strict instructions this morning - so strict in fact, that I was told off for not listening when they were announced, which, for a brief moment, made me feel like I was back at school and I instantly started hating my surroundings and all figures of authority. These instructions demanded that we present ourselves at the ferry stop for 12.00pm, where a decision would be made pending news about the ferry (see, I was listening). This meant we all needed to move fairly quickly and the slower riders must not get detached from the peloton, so I went to the front and led the group the 14 miles to the ferry, occasionally slowing to allow a regroup, sometimes pushing a bit when the group bunched. The wind was horrific, deafening, blew the handlebars from side to side and required a sideways lean in the worst stretches, and I am not sure how much shelter was offered by my newly skinny frame. We got there in time and all rejoiced that the ferry was running. Thank God for that. The whole LEJOG experience would really have gone sour for me if we had had to set foot in a motor vehicle before John o’Groats.

Gourock to Dunoon ferry

What a wonderful world on the other shore. We turned right from the ferry at Dunoon and were instantly in the countryside for which we had all registered for this challenge.

With John at Dunoon (photo courtesy of Jo and Sarah)

Huge conifers towered above the road, barriered off by mossy, dry-stone walls. Through the forests could be glimpsed choppy water and rocks teeming with bird life. On one rock I spotted 9 cormorants sunning themselves. We have not seen any seals yet but our eyes are peeled. 

Lunch in a barn

Lunch at Benmore Botanic Gardens was beautiful. The autumn colours are becoming more pronounced as we head further north. The glorious ride continued in the afternoon, despite the powerful buffetting we received from the squalling winds and the passing lorries. Spectacular mountains loomed in the low clouds either side and in front, but somehow we managed to avoid any really awful hills and hugged the shoreline of Loch Eck and Loch Fyne.

Roadside at Loch Eck

We had the odd experience of seeing Inverary from the other side of the Loch about 2 miles away, but we still had 22 miles to cycle as we went right to the end and around the shore. The tailwind that hit us as we turned back down the loch was fantastic and we went up hills at 25 mph.

Enjoying the tailwind as we turn towards Inverary

We settled in for a fast last 14 miles but then turned right suddenly as the shore twisted again and hit the most colossal wind I have ever experienced. Descending a steep hill, our bikes were slowing down and I was surprised that my reaction was to laugh hysterically and slight manically while trying to stay upright. My wife reacts in a similar way whenever I am in pain, although she assures me it is a nervous reaction and not an expression of her true feelings.

Loch Ness is now only 2 days away. My son has given me his Nessie cuddly toy to keep during  LEJOG to remind me of him. (I spend most of the day thinking about him anyway). We bought Nessie 2 years ago at Drumnadrochit. She is getting closer to home. Today she requested a ride in my bumbag so that my son could see her on the blog …

Can you spot Nessie, little chap?

At the northern end of Loch Fyne, several riders peeled off for oysters, but my aversion to all seafood meant I would rather have eaten my sweaty, leather, fingerless cycling gloves, so I ploughed on. I enjoyed a solo burn-up for the last 8 miles, after a slow, easy day with lots of group riding, passing other riders and averaging 25 mph until I hit the town and was stopped in my tracks by its beauty. Could Inverary be the most beautiful place in Britain? It is certainly one of the most picturesque places I have seen.

Inverary (photo by John)

Inverary harbour

This is top of my list for a return visit with my family. It skirts the shore of Loch Fyne with steep-sided mountains either side and has very few buildings dating from after 1920. Its war memorial is beautifully situated on the green facing the loch, a tribute to soldiers who gave their lives in 2 wars that must have seemed an awfully long way away from these surroundings.

War memorial

We are staying in the Loch Fyne Hotel. The food tonight was the best of the whole tour.

Loch Fyne Hotel

This may change tomorrow. We have a huge 7-mile ascent to 1500 feet as soon as we turn off the high street at the beginning of a 95-mile day which ends in a 19th-century farm converted into a youth hostel. This will be dormitory night. It offers a good opportunity for me to perform my nocturnal snortings to a much wider audience.