Loch Linnhe in the early morning sun (these iPhones are good cameras you know)
Then I noticed the trees were bending quite heavily towards me from a north easterly direction. The wind had changed overnight. Guess what direction I was going.? Yep north easterly.
The Great Glen is a fault line between two continental plates - and a very long wind tunnel
I headed for Fort William along the loch shore line and noticed a guest house I had stayed at in my early twenties. I had toured Scotland with an old girlfriend back then (she wasn't old, it was just a long time ago - you know what I mean) and I remembered getting eaten alive by midges whilst adjusting the chain on my motorbike. Happy days.
Fort Bill has grown a little since I last passed through. It looked very prosperous. It's the centre for a lot of adventure sports and has superb mountain bike facilities. It recently hosted the downhill world championships and is considered one of the best courses in the world. The scenery isn't bad either. Ben Nevis stands on the edge of town like a giant gate keeper. Its a wonderful part of the world and well worth a visit.
A snow capped Ben Nevis in spring. The clouds looked ominous as I headed for the Great Glen
Riding out of Fort William I started to feel the effects of the headwind. It was hardwork keeping a reasonable pace up and I started to feel tired after about twenty miles. I stopped and had an energy gel and some Kendal mint cake. The energy gels taste like sweaty socks but are actually very good. The famous mint cake is just bonkers stuff. As far as I can tell it's pure glucose with a bit of mint essence . I renamed it Kendal mental cake, as it gives you a crazy energy lift for about half an hour before you hit a big sugar downer on the other side. Anyway I set off again for Spean Bridge and it seemed to do the trick for a while.
The clouds started to roll in, replacing the early morning sun as the road climbed steadily. After around ten miles I met Rosemary at the Commando memorial just after Spean Bridge. It was built to commemorate the commando's who trained in the area during the second world war. It's a very popular tourist spot and as I cycled up, coach loads of American and Japanese were disembarking. eager to get a shot of the famous landmark.
Rosemary had bought some pork pies and fresh bread in Fort William and I sat and scoffed whilst admiring the fantastic views. By this stage I could tell that today was going to be a struggle. The wind was just funnelling straight down the great glen like a giant wind tunnel and I still had a good sixty miles to go. So we decided to try and meet up every twenty miles so I could split the ride up into stages and give myself some respite.
The stretch between the Commando memorial and Fort Augustus seemed a lot further than I remembered. The road surface was terrible and it felt like my teeth were being shaken out as I trundled along the shore line of the imaginatively named Loch Lochy and Loch Oich which is apparently Loch of Spit - Honest!
The road surface really began to wear me down. It was badly pitted, probably from many a winters ice and snow cover. The narrow tyres on my bike offered precious little cushioning and I started to get a sore bum again. The road was very straight and seemed to stretch into the horizon. I find cycling along a straight road quite boring and a bit demoralising. I prefer rolling twist roads that add a bit of variety to a ride. Anyway I got my head down and covered nearly 30 miles before meeting Rosemary at a little rest area on Loch Oich. It was really pretty and Rosemary had had time to walk Moo along a trail through the woods. I could tell that she was more relaxed now and had enjoyed the walk. She seemed to have everything under control and was ready with a big mug of tea for me. There is nothing like a mug of tea when you need a sit down. Lovely!
Rest area at Loch Oich
Next up would be Fort Augustus at the southern end of Loch Ness. Most of the pleasure cruises that run up and down the Loch start from Fort Augustus so it is usually full of tourists. My company has supplied tour PA systems to a few of the boats here so I was looking out for one. Being mid May they were all out and probably somewhere on the huge loch.
The Locks at Fort Augustus. Part of Telfords amazing Caledonian Canal
This will sound odd but as I rode through I didn't feel like a tourist. I don't know why, as that is exactly what I was. I think it was the fact of being on a bike with a 'job to do' so to speak, made me feel exempt. I stopped to take a couple of photos to mark the start point of Loch Ness and set my time-lapse camera going. The idea was to get the whole length of Ness in a 2 minute video.
I have really enjoyed driving along this road in the past. I remember coming as a child in our VW camper. I can recall being convinced I had seen 'Nessie' through a break in the trees whilst motoring along the edge of Loch Ness. I can still picture the dark shape sticking out of the water now. Must have been an excess of sherbet dip or whatever sweets I was allowed back then.
Loch Ness - you can just make out Nessie if you look very carefully
Time was getting on and I had arranged to meet Rosemary at Drumnadrochit which is approximately half way up Loch Ness. This was a real struggle in the wind. I think the combination of long straight roads, bad road surface and head wind really started to get to me mentally. I just wanted to stop. I was getting very sore again down below and couldn't distract myself from it. I really was not enjoying this part of the ride one bit. I was on empty again. All I wanted to see was the camper so I could climb in and rest. It can get quite dispiriting when you keep looking at your cycle computer watching how slow the miles turn. There is still 20 miles to the next stop.
The counter seemed to go in slow motion for an age. I tried my best to take my mind off things. Sing songs to myself, think about nice experiences. I tried to remember good times with my sisters. Anything to distract me. I eventually rolled into Drumnadrochit and collapsed into the van. Rosemary had put up with a hell of a lot of my whinging on this trip but I badly needed her encouragement at this point. I just couldn't contemplate getting out of the camper. I still had 30 plus miles to go before we got to Inverness. That seemed like a mountain to climb. I told her I was sh*t at cycling, that I was a complete useless lump of lard and couldn't do this challenge anymore. I was really at a low point and just wanted to go to sleep and forget the whole thing.
Its amazing what a brew does for you, and a gentle reminder as to why I was doing any of this damn ride. "Come on Brian - man up for Pete's sake" I said to myself (wondering who Pete was) and climbed onto my bike again. I said bye to Rosemary and set off for Inverness. I watched the camper slowly disappear into the distance and felt very lonely as I pedalled along. I knew there was nothing in the tank but I had no choice, it was Inverness or bust.
I think the next 30 miles were close to the worst mentally, of the whole adventure. The road seemed to be climbing all the time. Of cause that was an illusion as both ends of the glen are at sea level but I swear that it felt like one of those weird images where a man is climbing a set of stairs that seems to go upwards all the time.
I was swearing out loud at the pain in my crotch. I even had a little cry to myself. I constantly gave myself a talking to and this went on for mile after mile. I can hardly remember the scenery, which is a pity because it is quite beautiful all along this road. I finally cracked and pulled into a lay-by for a rest, slumping to the curb with my head in my hands.
John Cobb - Land speed hero and local favourite
Anyway back to the ride. I sat and downed 2 energy gels and some mint cake then waited for the boost to kick in. I looked around and noticed a memorial and plaque at the roadside. It was to John Cobb the Englishman who held the land speed record in the 50's. He died during an attempt at the world water speed record on the loch and has been remembered fondly by the locals as a real gentleman and hero. Reading the memorial gave me a mental boost and really spurred me on. I got on my bike and made for Inverness.
The River Ness at Inverness
I finally limped in at around 7.30pm to the campsite we had been recommended by Neil. As I cycled in I couldn't help but notice that it was situated in a bit of a rough area. The site had high chain link fencing with barbed wire on the top. Just across the road was a huge funfair and it was already in full swing. My heart sank! Riding in through the gates I noticed that there were hoards of kids roaming around the site, running in and out between all the caravans. I thought "ok chill out Brian - they'll go in a bit when they get called in" How wrong was I!. I went for a shower to find a grim toilet block, painted turquoise. The shower cubicles had toilet duck cleaner sprayed all over the bases. It was freezing and the showers were just a tepid dribble. It was the pits. As I walked back to the camper I noticed some shady looking cars driving in and out. A brand new BMW and a Merc with blacked out windows kept coming and going. The drivers had skinheads and mean looks. They went into various caravans then left. I watched these guys come and go for over an hour from our van. They were either drug dealers or I'm aunt sally. I had chained my bike to the camper earlier but when a transit van pulled up outside and when the driver had a good gander at it I thought "we are out of here" I'm not staying another minute. The problem was it was 9pm and I was shattered. Rosemary had booked in earlier and had thought the manager seemed a nice guy. She asked him if we could store my bike in his office overnight which he was happy to do. He gave us the number of the local police (for which he knew the number off by heart) and said he was leaving for the evening. Great!
The Funfair finally packed in at 11pm. I was lying in bed listening to the thumping low frequency of the loudspeakers as they gently sent me round the bend. It was heavenly when the noise stopped but the tranquility was soon shattered by drunken girls screaming and shouting on the other side of the fencing. It was safe to say that Bunree to Inverness was not my favourite days ride. Hopefully tomorrow would be an improvement as I would be crossing over the Beauley, Cromarty and Dornoch firths and into the far north of Scotland.
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