Over Sutherland

Awoke in student halls so no full Scottish today. Instead, bought vast quantities of granola for breakfast, with cream! That’s what statins are for, says Pete. Pete doesn’t really get it does he?

Another thing about Andrews extensive diet. His personal dietician (Merv) recommended milk. Andrew, who doesn’t do things by halves, interpreted this as drink four pints of the stuff a day. So while his comrades drink water, Andrew has taken to hanging two or three pints of milk on the side of his bike. It looks like he’s on a very small milk round. So the latest moniker is ‘Ernie, and he drives the fastest milk bike in the west’. Nobody under 60 will understand this. (Richard wins the prize). We’re getting some funny looks from people as we cycle along singing Benny Hill songs.

First leg today was along the coast, which was nice. Then a hop onto the A9 for a mile or so before we turned onto a B Road that would take us all the way across wild and beautiful Sutherland. Fabulous, gentle, steady, easy 12 mile saunter up to about 800 feet was the way Steve and Pete described it. ‘Relentless’ was Andrew’s description - being so light in weight he gets affected by the wind in a way that tanks like Pete don’t notice. He stopped for second (or was it third) breakfast at the top, only to find that Steve had found a cafe with the most amazing selection of cakes just 2 miles along. He still managed to fit one in! The other two are still amazed at his capacity to fuel up and empty so quickly!

Then for a fabulous 12 miles down to Altnaharra for a spot of lunch. Stuffed fish adorned the walls and one of our party was very interested. Ok, yes - it was Andrew, but the others are feeling guilty about ripping on him so much, so don't make a big deal about it please (unless you know him well in which case carry on 😉)

A mile on we came to a parting of the ways, like Frodo and Sam sending Merry and Pippin on a different course. Due to a cock up on Pete’s part, the hotel tonight only had two bedrooms and a foldup bed. Steve decided this was far too ‘boy scout’ for him, especially as Clare was due to rendezvous with us a day early. So he booked a room in Tongue which was on a different trajectory. Off he went one way and off Merry and Pippin went the other. The ‘other way’ followed a loch and a river for 12 miles. That only means one thing - demon midgy bastards, by the millions. Andrew pushed on trying to outrun them. Pete emptied his panniers to find his repellent (actually Avon Skin so Soft, which is the best midge repellent known to Scotland - go on Google it). But the damage was largely done. Even his lips looked like he’d been on the Botox!

Midgy bastards aside, the route to Betty Hill was perfect rolling cycling on a smooth single track road. The rain started 10 miles from the end. It was what the Scots call ‘Dreech’, the Irish call ‘soft rain’, and Peter Kaye once called ‘the sort that makes you wet, from t’inside’ but at least it dampened the midges enthusiasm!

The hapless pair finally made the Farr Bay Inn, which Andrew declared was a hill too far. But we had a warm welcome from the staff.

Clare has joined us tonight, opting to take a few days for the journey rather than 500 miles in one trip. Her satnav took her 40 miles up the same single track road we’d just cycled. Great on a bike, apparently not so great in a car!

Another top quality dinner in the hotel - Hake for A and P.

I’ll edit this later with Steve’s exploits, but he probably just had a mug of cocoa and an early night.

stats: 68 miles, 2680 feet, one hundred midge bites