Off the ferry in Ullapool and straight to the post office to pick up brake pads, then into the hostel, where I met two interesting people - First, a theatre actor from Hamburg half way through the Cape Wrath Trail - much reminiscing -
He's had some tough wet weather so far, the classic what's the point in boots once theyre wet debate, and a nervous encounter arriving at bothy to find it occupied by a gap toothed drunk - but turned out that drunk could recite shakespeare by heart so they had a great evening lol.
Second person is another cyclist "Red bags" from Minnesota, on a year long travel grant to do with climate change communication allegedly. Anyway turns out he knows Bill McKinnon and got arrested at 17 at a keystone pipeline construction site. Small world!
In the harbour is an interesting looking big blue boat - the Inter Alba - turns out to be a mobile salmon cleaning station - it's got a desalination plant on board, the salmon get dropped into the fresh water for a few hours which they can survive, but the sea lice cannot.
Day 47
What a stunning day of scenery, weather, roads
This is the part of the country I really wanted to see and delighted to catch it on a good day.
Another time I would just come direct to the Highlands... Would be nice to take more time here but I'd rather enjoy it quickly in the sunshine than slowly in the rain.
Bit nervy last the couple of hours as no good camp spots, but keen on going over Kylesku bridge and a beautiful field appears, albeit with resident roaring stags
48
Over more rolling hills, with a gentle tailwind, and glorious long steady descents which don't tax the brakes, although being on the main NC500 road means the camper vans are frequent, along with a smattering of overweight old blokes on motorbikes. I imagine peak season would be hellish. I'm told that there can also be massive pelatons of overweight middle aged blokes in lycra clogging the roads on organised lejog trips etc which I wouldn't blame other traffic for finding annoying.
Approaching Durness I intersect with where I joined the road after cape wrath 13 years ago, prompting another wave of reminiscing.
This time I stop to check out Smoo sea cave, then, much like 13 years ago, it's the final trudge along the north coast. I seem to remember spending a week with my hood up and earphones in and it's no more inspiring this time.
Picked out what would have been a beautiful camp spot in Tongue, if it wasn't for the wind gusting all night, more fool me, into the woods tomorrow.
49.
Up and down the coast road, more blanket bog, the wind is now a side wind, thurso is a pebble dashed pit of despair, but day ending on a high with a lovely community run forest to camp in.
50. The final day. Ticking off the geographical landmarks - Dunnet Head (most northerly), Duncansby Head (most north easterly), and finally John o Groats (best marketing).
Met some other cyclists though not on such long tours, one couple have carbon bikes, wow, they are insanely light!
John o Groats has grown a little in the intervening years, it now has a distillery and praise his noodles, a brewery, which seems like a good place to sit out the afternoon showers before peddling or wobbling back to the cosy woodlands.
Oh got a fridge magnet obviously. Otherwise none of this happened.
And now I'm on the bus from thurso down to Inverness. Tomorrow train down the east coast main line to Newark
I had made plans to do a lap of Orkney, and cycle back to Inverness, but motivation has run dry so once again Orkney will have to wait.
MV Hebrides makes light work of crossing the Little Minch - "bigger waves in a bathtub", one deckhand claims, although as we leave the protection of the headlands it gets a bit more roly poly - my beer hasn't started sliding off the table yet but it seems like it might become an issue as spray slaps the windows of this 4th floor observation deck
The plan is for the ship to push through this low weather front and leave me in better weather on the Hebrides while the storm sweeps across the mainland.
Not far off - well, on arrival it's monsooning like never before, but after hiding in a bus shelter for quarter of an hour it all calms down, and I can set off for a quick lap of north Uist.
A weird landscape of sea level bogs, lakes, inlets and islands, shrouded in low cloud and horizontal drizzle, with occasional strings of habitation, thatched crofters cottages, and then somewhat in the middle of nowhere, the bright lights of a Co-Op stocking all your usual favourites. Thoroughly soaked, doubly so from upward spray, but the 30mph tailwind carries me across causeways to the hostel on Berneray before dark.
The hostel is itself an old cottage, and occupied by spritely 75 yr old Carol and Shona, a Scottish lass who is attempting to bag all islands - apparently there is a passport book and each island has a brass rubbing to collect.
The Hebredian Way is a walking and cycling trail running the length of the chain, which i'm not strictly doing, but given that there is mostly only one road to choose from, I am on it by default.
Following morning it's early speedboat across to Lewis. Great ride with the tailwind and mixture of scenery - beautiful beaches and bays, rocky hills and lochs - the whole place is made from 3 billion year old impermeable rock.
Stopped in another hostel, Ravenspoint, with a South Carolinan lady touring ancestral McKinnons
Day 44 I run into Ingolf, a photographer from Germany who has come back to the Hebrides for ten years, cycled it six times, sometimes with a theme like cattle grids or postboxes, this time profiling people, which may include me.
Next I'm making a 40km detour to a tiny hamlet called Encalete, to visit phone box made famous by guy making 50 calls there to stop it being removed. As forwarded by Tim. However when I try to call Tim from said phonebox he's out of service up a hill himself. Farce! And it's cost me a pound just to connect to his voicemail!
The 20km back is with the tailwind though so absolutely flying.
I've crossed the demarcation line between Lewis and Harris, which seems to consist of a small stream, into a region jam packed with 5000 year old stone circles. Irritatingly though for the main attraction at Callanis theyve just built a new visitor centre in anticipation of cruise ships, put padlocks on the gates and started charging £15. Criminal!
I just need one more day to get up to the Butt of Lewis and back to Stornoway, but the forecast is again dreich, so taking another zero day - which will be Sunday. This requires forethought because the Sabbath is still sacred here, nothing will be open, even hanging out your laundry is frowned upon, so I have to stock up on supplies in advance at the community shop.
The Butt of Lewis has been recognised as the windiest place in Britain, and has a lovely lighthouse designed by one of the Stevenson dynasty.
In Stornoway hostel there's an old Aryan fisherman wearing a kilt and puffing a pipe. For realz! He's been after brown trout in the hill lochs, but has barely caught a thing, he reckons significantly reduced numbers and sizes in last ten years. Although he doesn't actually like eating fish anyway!
There isn't much to Stornoway itself really, although it does have more town stuff and big supermarkets. The main attraction is Lews castle, a stately home built by an opium baron, currently hosting some of the famous 800 year old walrus tusk viking chess pieces found nearby.
Interesting exhibition about the herring trade.
Annnnnd now on the MV Seaforth, the mountains of the mainland loom ahead
Bing bong. Please be aware coastguard helicopter is shortly going to perform a winching exercise. Cool! Where? Oh there it is. And a gannet, which seems to provoke more excitement amongst my fellow passengers
Summing up the Hebrides then?
Gaelic is number one
Everyone says hello
Townships all spread out and kind of run into one another, community halls football pitches, shinty in south
Chequered past of crofters, clearances, emigration, community ownership
Many people move here with romantic notions of island life but give up after a year or so of endlessly dark winters and midge infested summers
The plan is for the ship to push through this low weather front and leave me in better weather on the Hebrides while the storm sweeps across the mainland.
Not far off - well, on arrival it's monsooning like never before, but after hiding in a bus shelter for quarter of an hour it all calms down, and I can set off for a quick lap of north Uist.
A weird landscape of sea level bogs, lakes, inlets and islands, shrouded in low cloud and horizontal drizzle, with occasional strings of habitation, thatched crofters cottages, and then somewhat in the middle of nowhere, the bright lights of a Co-Op stocking all your usual favourites. Thoroughly soaked, doubly so from upward spray, but the 30mph tailwind carries me across causeways to the hostel on Berneray before dark.
The hostel is itself an old cottage, and occupied by spritely 75 yr old Carol and Shona, a Scottish lass who is attempting to bag all islands - apparently there is a passport book and each island has a brass rubbing to collect.
The Hebredian Way is a walking and cycling trail running the length of the chain, which i'm not strictly doing, but given that there is mostly only one road to choose from, I am on it by default.
Following morning it's early speedboat across to Lewis. Great ride with the tailwind and mixture of scenery - beautiful beaches and bays, rocky hills and lochs - the whole place is made from 3 billion year old impermeable rock.
Stopped in another hostel, Ravenspoint, with a South Carolinan lady touring ancestral McKinnons
Day 44 I run into Ingolf, a photographer from Germany who has come back to the Hebrides for ten years, cycled it six times, sometimes with a theme like cattle grids or postboxes, this time profiling people, which may include me.
Next I'm making a 40km detour to a tiny hamlet called Encalete, to visit phone box made famous by guy making 50 calls there to stop it being removed. As forwarded by Tim. However when I try to call Tim from said phonebox he's out of service up a hill himself. Farce! And it's cost me a pound just to connect to his voicemail!
The 20km back is with the tailwind though so absolutely flying.
I've crossed the demarcation line between Lewis and Harris, which seems to consist of a small stream, into a region jam packed with 5000 year old stone circles. Irritatingly though for the main attraction at Callanis theyve just built a new visitor centre in anticipation of cruise ships, put padlocks on the gates and started charging £15. Criminal!
I just need one more day to get up to the Butt of Lewis and back to Stornoway, but the forecast is again dreich, so taking another zero day - which will be Sunday. This requires forethought because the Sabbath is still sacred here, nothing will be open, even hanging out your laundry is frowned upon, so I have to stock up on supplies in advance at the community shop.
The Butt of Lewis has been recognised as the windiest place in Britain, and has a lovely lighthouse designed by one of the Stevenson dynasty.
In Stornoway hostel there's an old Aryan fisherman wearing a kilt and puffing a pipe. For realz! He's been after brown trout in the hill lochs, but has barely caught a thing, he reckons significantly reduced numbers and sizes in last ten years. Although he doesn't actually like eating fish anyway!
There isn't much to Stornoway itself really, although it does have more town stuff and big supermarkets. The main attraction is Lews castle, a stately home built by an opium baron, currently hosting some of the famous 800 year old walrus tusk viking chess pieces found nearby.
Interesting exhibition about the herring trade.
Annnnnd now on the MV Seaforth, the mountains of the mainland loom ahead
Bing bong. Please be aware coastguard helicopter is shortly going to perform a winching exercise. Cool! Where? Oh there it is. And a gannet, which seems to provoke more excitement amongst my fellow passengers
Summing up the Hebrides then?
Gaelic is number one
Everyone says hello
Townships all spread out and kind of run into one another, community halls football pitches, shinty in south
Chequered past of crofters, clearances, emigration, community ownership
Many people move here with romantic notions of island life but give up after a year or so of endlessly dark winters and midge infested summers
Unfortunately the Glenelg ferry is out of service. Don't know how I missed that, well, maybe because it's buried beneath all the news stories of the community fight with greedy landowner charging unfair landing fees.
The new lug nut they need isn't arriving until Wednesday, so nothing for it but to go around via the bridge and main road after all. This is a shock to system what with all big trucks, tour buses, countless camper vans and hire cars. Still, got a bacon sandwich and to see Eilean Donan castle, as well as adding another iconic bridge crossing to the collection.
Apparently the Skye bridge was the first example of a PFI, ie, the government got private investors to pay for it in return for which they could charge tolls. The tolls were NOT popular particularly with the locals, and eventually the government bought the bridge...
The A87 is unavoidable since it's the only through road on Skye, with the exception of a 10km detour around the old Moll road, closed to motor traffic due to a landslide but now deliciously tarmaced but inexplicablely not signposted as "go here bicycles!" Passing several fish farms, the sun comes out and views are excellent, a white tailed eagle soars overhead
Rejoin the tourists at photo hotspot Silgachan bridge. Then a tired slog in increasing rain up to Carbost, where I'm booked into the Old Inn, which coincidentally happens to be opposite the Talisker distillery. I'm exhausted so have a day off.
Tourist taxed at the community shop for some millionaires shortcake!
Weather good again, roads lovely, traffic minimal until Portree, which is itself forgettable if not for sublime donut from the bakery. No photo as devoured it in a flash.
The Storr.
The car park is jam packed.
But the view is so worth it. Why is that?
What is it a out it that draws thousands of tourists a year? The shape? The light and shadow, the contrast, as the rain clears, rainbow, lush greens against rock, whatever it is, its worth it
Was planning to spend the night and potentially wait out the storm at Lookout bothy, but unfortunately it's not a secret and it's not too far from the road, so its already full with combination of kids about to start the Skye trail and car "campers". The overspill trying to put up tent outside in a light breeze, apparently for the first time. Forecast tomorrow is gale force 8 lolllllll
Despite several other ferry pre cancellations, my 2pm to Lochmaddy is still going, so I packed up my tent early to try and reach the ferry terminal before the rain. Largely succeeded, although the wind already gusting to the point I can't make forward progress at times!
The new lug nut they need isn't arriving until Wednesday, so nothing for it but to go around via the bridge and main road after all. This is a shock to system what with all big trucks, tour buses, countless camper vans and hire cars. Still, got a bacon sandwich and to see Eilean Donan castle, as well as adding another iconic bridge crossing to the collection.
Apparently the Skye bridge was the first example of a PFI, ie, the government got private investors to pay for it in return for which they could charge tolls. The tolls were NOT popular particularly with the locals, and eventually the government bought the bridge...
The A87 is unavoidable since it's the only through road on Skye, with the exception of a 10km detour around the old Moll road, closed to motor traffic due to a landslide but now deliciously tarmaced but inexplicablely not signposted as "go here bicycles!" Passing several fish farms, the sun comes out and views are excellent, a white tailed eagle soars overhead
Rejoin the tourists at photo hotspot Silgachan bridge. Then a tired slog in increasing rain up to Carbost, where I'm booked into the Old Inn, which coincidentally happens to be opposite the Talisker distillery. I'm exhausted so have a day off.
Tourist taxed at the community shop for some millionaires shortcake!
Weather good again, roads lovely, traffic minimal until Portree, which is itself forgettable if not for sublime donut from the bakery. No photo as devoured it in a flash.
The Storr.
The car park is jam packed.
But the view is so worth it. Why is that?
What is it a out it that draws thousands of tourists a year? The shape? The light and shadow, the contrast, as the rain clears, rainbow, lush greens against rock, whatever it is, its worth it
Was planning to spend the night and potentially wait out the storm at Lookout bothy, but unfortunately it's not a secret and it's not too far from the road, so its already full with combination of kids about to start the Skye trail and car "campers". The overspill trying to put up tent outside in a light breeze, apparently for the first time. Forecast tomorrow is gale force 8 lolllllll
Despite several other ferry pre cancellations, my 2pm to Lochmaddy is still going, so I packed up my tent early to try and reach the ferry terminal before the rain. Largely succeeded, although the wind already gusting to the point I can't make forward progress at times!
Day 36
After yesterday's failings to find any thermals in my size, dashed into mountain warehouse, quality tbc.... then caught the ferry to Mull. It's windy but not bad enough to cancel it, although trips to Fingles cave for next few days have already been called off.
It is raining heavily though so took the shortest route to Tobermory, rather than doing the full lap of the island. Also appreciated by tired legs, and meant arrived in town early enough to pop into the distillery, see the famous multi coloured houses around the harbour in a moment of sunshine, and get fish and chips. Apparently there are dolphins playing around in the harbour but by the time I've finished my chips they've moved further away.
In the hostel, what a perfect curiosity collection of char [...read the rest]
After yesterday's failings to find any thermals in my size, dashed into mountain warehouse, quality tbc.... then caught the ferry to Mull. It's windy but not bad enough to cancel it, although trips to Fingles cave for next few days have already been called off.
It is raining heavily though so took the shortest route to Tobermory, rather than doing the full lap of the island. Also appreciated by tired legs, and meant arrived in town early enough to pop into the distillery, see the famous multi coloured houses around the harbour in a moment of sunshine, and get fish and chips. Apparently there are dolphins playing around in the harbour but by the time I've finished my chips they've moved further away.
In the hostel, what a perfect curiosity collection of char [...read the rest]
Two days off in Glasgow, this was a big target of the trip as had a gig ticket booked. It's a three Canadian bands on a rare tour together - Stars, Broken Social Scene and Metric. All great, but I wish Stars had been on last with the longest set.
On the Saturday I went to another gig on a whim, at the famous King Tut's Wah Wah Hut. Headlining was a local band called Helicon, playing groovy prog instrumentals with sitar riffs, however they were all a bit samey. The support was much more exciting, a psych band called The Miracle Seeds.
In between, trawled round a disappointing range of outdoor shops and a couple of museums, the Burrell collection being worth the trip.
Glasgow YHA is a former hotel in what feels like the poshest part of town, surrounded by Ferraris and Bentleys [...read the rest]
On the Saturday I went to another gig on a whim, at the famous King Tut's Wah Wah Hut. Headlining was a local band called Helicon, playing groovy prog instrumentals with sitar riffs, however they were all a bit samey. The support was much more exciting, a psych band called The Miracle Seeds.
In between, trawled round a disappointing range of outdoor shops and a couple of museums, the Burrell collection being worth the trip.
Glasgow YHA is a former hotel in what feels like the poshest part of town, surrounded by Ferraris and Bentleys [...read the rest]
Day 23
Set off from the hostel in the sunshine, for a largely flat day skirting the hills, passing the little Eskdale steam railway and then Sellafield nuclear plant.
First priority was finding a bike shop to get new brake pads, which Cockermouth provided
Then the skyline dominated by tall pylons - this is
Anthorn radio station which communicates at exremely low frequencies with nuclear submarines
Bike is making weird noise, must be from the dynamo hub / bearing. Still rolls ok though
Stopping for the night at the lovely Hillside farm bunkhouse, including home cooked farm breakfast
Landlady tells of the many lejoggers, coast walkers etc including a priest on a horse visiting all UK cathedrals.
The only other occupant today was Viesturs/Wes, a Latvian scaffolder with an interestin [...read the rest]
Set off from the hostel in the sunshine, for a largely flat day skirting the hills, passing the little Eskdale steam railway and then Sellafield nuclear plant.
First priority was finding a bike shop to get new brake pads, which Cockermouth provided
Then the skyline dominated by tall pylons - this is
Anthorn radio station which communicates at exremely low frequencies with nuclear submarines
Bike is making weird noise, must be from the dynamo hub / bearing. Still rolls ok though
Stopping for the night at the lovely Hillside farm bunkhouse, including home cooked farm breakfast
Landlady tells of the many lejoggers, coast walkers etc including a priest on a horse visiting all UK cathedrals.
The only other occupant today was Viesturs/Wes, a Latvian scaffolder with an interestin [...read the rest]
LEJOG 2026 Cycle
after missing half the summer stuck in the office, a logistically easy tour around the uk
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