Sunday, 24 February 2013

Helmsdale to John o Groats




The 21st May 2012 began with beautiful sunshine. I had a spring in my step as I climbed out of the camper to walk Monty. As I wandered along the beautiful beach behind the campsite I pondered the last 12 days. It had been quite a trial but nothing was going to stop me now.



After fettling my bike for the last time, Rosemary drove me back up the road past Helmsdale. It felt
strange not to be setting off from the campsite but I was glad to have made the effort the previous evening. The early morning sun lit up the vivid yellow gorse and the deep blue of the North sea glistened to our right. It was quite beautiful.

As we climbed up the hill out of Helmsdale I noticed a group of cyclists toiling there way to the top. We pulled up at the layby that I'd finished up at the night before and started to unload my bike.  when they pulled up next to a van that was already parked up. I asked "are you guys doing Lejog" They were! They looked tired and one guy had really been through the wars. He'd come off on a steep hill in the Midlands but had soldiered on. We swapped a few stories about our respective adventures. They were having a half hour break so I set off. I was sure I'd meet them en route to our goal.


I rode into Caithness, my final county on this ride. The light in this part of the world seemed different. Its very strident and bright. The air was very clear and the smell of the sea was very refreshing. I fell in love with it.

What I didn't fall in love with was Berridale or more specifically the Berridale braes. Neil Coverley had ommitted to tell me about the Berridale braes. I found out later from another good customer down in Culloden that the Berridale Braes is an infamous hill that some cars struggle to make it up. He was not wrong. I've cycled up Hardknott Pass in the Lake district and that was the hardest climb I've ever done. This was pretty close. It just ground on and on in a slow relentless and punishing gradient. But I was going to conquer this b*****d of a climb if it killed me and I was going to do it standing up. I hadn't come 900+ miles to let this beat me. I grimaced my way up and finally hit the top exhausted. Rosemary had realised how steep it was and had very thoughtfully parked up less than a mile away. I had a few minutes rest and a brew in the camper. There wasn't going to be many more of these so I savoured every minute.

As I climbed out of the van the other cyclists rode by. I tried to get myself organised so I could tag along with them, but by the time I had my rucksack and helmet on they'd disappeared over a rise. I tried my best to catch them but they were riding as a pack. It's really tough to keep up with a bunch of riders as they can use each other to shelter from the wind. I tried and tried for the next ten miles or so but in the end I gave up. In fact it took a lot of energy up and I started to feel a bit weary. My legs began to get that tell tale jelly like feeling and I needed to stop. I was only ten miles short of Wick where I would meet Rosemary at lunchtime, but I was spent. I felt like I was done in so I sat on the ground by the entrance to a rather grand looking house in the middle of nowhere and had some Kendal mint cake. I thought to myself "I'm so near now, just got to drag my weary body another twenty five miles and I'm there"

The villages I rode through had lovely Norse names, Lybster, Ulbster, Occumster and Thrumbster. I'd seen these names, endlessly studying the maps whilst preparing for the ride. The dream of reaching John o'Groats was coming true. I was seeing the villages from the map and I was riding through them. A feeling of elation started to seep into me as I rode into Wick, the last major town on my journey. I liked Wick. It looked bustling and prosperous for such a northerly city. I arrived at lunchtime and school kids thronged the pavements outside the chippy and newsagents . They must be used to Lejoggers riding and walking through as they were certainly not afraid to shout encouragement to me (well I think it was encouragement) It made me smile as I bumbled my way through the centre.

I had arranged to meet Rosemary at Tesco where she was busy re-stocking the camper for a few days rest once I had completed the ride. I didn't realise that the Tesco was actually not in the centre of Wick but a mile or so out the other side, by the small airport. I thrutched around the town quite a bit until I saw a sign for Tesco. I eventually trundled into the car park around 12.30pm and was greeted by Monty at the door. He'd been such a patient little man all the way from Lands End. It would soon be time to pay him back with long walks and no going off cycling. I just had one more ride left and I could say I had made it. Before that though I could relax and have some lunch with Rosemary one last time on this epic journey. We had some lovely fresh bread and a pie from the deli counter and i enjoyed every minute of it.

I climbed out of the van at 1.20pm. I had 16 miles to John o' Groats. I was tired but my spirits were high as I cycled out of the car park. Just ahead was a sign saying 'John o'Groats 16 miles,  so I stopped to take a picture with my trusty iPhone. I'd used it for photo's, navigation, communication (my blog, email, texts, Facebook) reading and amusement (sudoku etc) Its was invaluable to me. Just as I held it up to take the shot an email came through on the notification screen. JustGiving - Congratulations you have hit your target of £10,000, someone had literally just donated the last £230.00 to take me to my target. I was speechless. To be honest, I burst into tears. I was overcome with emotion. I never thought I would get 10 grand, not in a million years. I had done it. The ride was irrelevant really, it was the money for Ataxia that meant everything. That someone by the way was Kelan Smith from SKS Communications in Dublin. Kelan is the son of Harry Smith who until his sad death a couple of years earlier, had been a director of my company. Harry was a good friend and my business mentor over the years and I miss him a lot. Kelan's donation meant a great deal to me.


Word's cannot describe how I felt as I set off for JOG. I was on a cloud. I was flying. I absolutely nailed it down the A99. Nothing was going to hold me back now. Rosemary stopped with about 5 miles to go to see if I needed a rest. I just poked my head through the door and asked for my Ataxia cycling shirt. I gave her my coat and rucksack and put the shirt on and set off again. I felt great, even with the a big hill with a couple of miles to go. I slogged my way up with the sun shining on my back and as I crested the top I caught a glimpse that all Lejoggers will remember forever. The North Sea and coastline with the islands of Stroma and Swona nestling proudly between John o' Groats and the Orkneys in the distance. I stopped to take it in. It was beautiful! For some reason I didn't take a picture, I have no idea why but I'll always remember that view.



It was down hill all the way to JOG so I stood on my pedals and coasted along with a big smile on my face. I saw a tractor in the distance driving towards me and thought nothing of it, but as I got closer I noticed the farmer start to raise the front hydraulic scoop. Then as I went by he saluted me. I was gobsmacked and started chuckling to myself. I quickly shouted thank you and waved back. What a lovely thing to do. He must see a lot of cyclists though.



Finally after twelve days of cycling and a year in the planning and lot of blood sweat and tears from Rosemary as well as me, I rolled into John o'Groats. Rosemary was ready and waiting with the camcorder to record my arrival. Unfortunately the route was a bit confusing through to the harbour front so I nipped through the car park and she didn't see me cycle up to her. I think I messed up her plan and she seemed a bit put out that I had not arrived properly, so I said I'd go back and ride in again. I did and then gave her a big hug. It was all over, we'd done it. 938 miles (according to my iPhone) I was drained and a bit stunned. There is nothing much at John o Groats, a few buildings, a hotel and a gift shop for the tourists. Its a bit tired looking to be honest. Nothing much to hang about for. I had my 'end to end card stamped in the gift shop and wondered what to do next. It all seemed a bit of an anti-climax. Twelve days of adventure was behind me. We'd made it in one piece a bit sore and tired but we had done it. So we packed up the bike on the rack and we climbed into the camper and drove slowly away.

And that was that!

I hope u have enjoyed reading my blog. Sorry it's been a bit disjointed and has taken a while to finish but thank you for reading it. LEJOG was a real adventure for Rosemary and I. Maybe one day I'll do it again. Keep an eye out for the blog.