JOGLE'94

My John O'Groats to Land's End trip was many years ago. Even so, I decided to post the account as I'm sure it will be of great interest!

Here it goes, as a sort of pre-amble to the main feature of Land's End to John O'Groats and Back.






JOHN O'GROATS TO LAND'S END BY BICYCLE
May/June 1994

Introduction

I had planned on an End-to-End ride some years before, but really wanted to go both ways. The problem with arriving at the ‘End’ after your one-way trip, you have to get home! And so has your bike! So Both Ways has it’s merits. Here you are at John O’Groats, needing transport home, when guess what? You’re sitting on it! Just turn around, and head on south!

11 days each way is about right, but 3 weeks is required to do a round trip. Sadly, my boss would only stick his neck out so far, so I had to make do with only 14 day’s leave.

My trump card was that the ship I was on at the time, HMS Argyll, just happened to be undergoing trials off the North West of Scotland and then due to arrive in Portsmouth a couple of weeks later. I wasn’t going to be much missed during the trials, or even while the ship was travelling south - so my leave was granted. I had ‘free’ transport to Scotland via HMS Argyll, and had ‘Forces Discount’ on the railways, only a relatively short hop up to John O’Groats.

I began planning. I joined the YHA and booked myself into hostels up and down the country. I produced sponsor forms, collecting for The Plymouth and District Cardiology Fund (now Heartswell) based at Derriford Hospital in Plymouth. (When all the sponsorship monies were in, I’d raised nearly £1,000!)

The charity was the main beneficiary for Albaston Fête that year, so I figured that I could swell the coffers even more with my efforts. The leading light of the Cardiology Fund was Monica Pearce, a larger than life character, and she was delighted. My boss wasn’t. He wanted me to support a ‘Naval Charity’, I wasn’t interested - I just wanted to ride my bike, and I felt I’d rather support a local charity and Albaston, than the Royal Navy. Actually, it was about the time that I’d started to become disillusioned with naval life. This seemed like a good escape!

Another stroke of good fortune was that our very good friends, Val and Loz lived in Helensburgh, about 15 miles from where I pulled myself away from the Argyll. They could put me up for the night, and then get me to Glasgow in time for a train north.

My plan was to make John O’Groats by train on the first day, then cycle my way south to Land’s End. Hilary could meet me and drive me home to Gunnislake. I’d then hire a car to get back to Argyll in Portsmouth a day or so later. Simple!

The following is basically the diary of my trip. I took notes as I went, and tried to recount each day’s journey in the evenings. It was a rather jotty and fragmented work, and I’ve tried to amplify and rearrange the words with the hope of making it more readable. Don’t forget that 1994 was a time before mass use of computers, the Internet and mobile phones. All I had was a BT Chargecard, YHA membership, money and Mars Bars.

Enjoy .....


JOHN O'GROATS TO LAND'S END BY BICYCLE
May/June 1994

FRIDAY 27th MAY
HMS Argyll arrived at Faslane Submarine Base on the Clyde at llam. I set off on my fully-prepared bike to Helensburgh soon after 3, via the married quarters where we used to live. The ride tested the bike, my luggage racks and my stuff packed into the four panniers, and it also gave me a chance for a look around and to reminisce. I arrived at Val and Loz's house, with no bicycle problems at all.

After tea and much conversation over a couple of glasses of wine through the evening, Loz and me stripped the panniers off my bike. We removed the wheels, and fitted the frame and the separated wheels into my home-made cycle carrying bag. We loaded the whole lot into Loz's trailer in his garage, ready for an early start in the morning. I was in bed and sound asleep by 10.30.


SATURDAY 28th MAY
Loz and me were up bright and early at 5am. I was eager for the off, with an early train to catch! After breakfast of cereal and a cup of tea, Loz drove me and my stuff to Glasgow Queen Street station.

I boarded a very crowded 0710 for Inverness, glad of my cycle bag - I could stow it all as luggage and keep an eye on it. Modern trains sometimes don’t carry bicycles due to the lack of Guards’ Vans. My bike was now just ‘luggage’! The train arrived on time at Inverness at 1040. Luggage and me survived.

I crossed the station for the Wick train, not without a little confusion about which train for Thurso and which for Wick. I believed the train I boarded was the right one, and I also believed I had to change at Georgemass Jnct. (Wherever that was!) Anyway we departed on time at llam. I tucked in to pork pies and cottage cheese I’d brought with me, and bought a couple cups of tea from the buffet car at 70p each. With lots of snow on the mountains and wildlife on view from the windows, including a large herd of Red Deer, it was a very beautiful and memorable journey.

The train arrived at Wick at 2.45pm. I didn’t have to worry that I was on the right train, as at Georgemass the train split - one half going on to Thurso, the other to Wick. After re-assembling the bike, and tying the now empty bike-bag onto the top of my panniers, I was on the road by 3pm, wending my way northwards for the 17 miles to John O'Groats. The weather was very windy and chilly, but very sunny. There was a head-wind all the way to the hostel at Canisbay. A difficult but good ride. I noted that as it was very windy and bleak so far north here, I'd wrap up warm the following morning on my way south.

I arrived at the hostel at 4.15, but there was a notice on the front door announcing that the hostel wasn’t going to open till 5.00. As there was a phone-box just a little way down the road, I phoned home and gave Hilary an update on how things were going promising that I’d phone again later after I’d settled in.

There was a small Post Office-cum-shop nearby, I parcelled up the bike-bag into an already prepared brown paper parcel, I stuck it all down with sticky tape and called in to get it weighed and to post it home. The Post Office bit of the shop was closed as it was Saturday! There was no way I was carrying it all the way to Land’s End, so I asked nicely if they’d weigh it anyway, charge me the postage, and hold it until Monday. Thankfully, the chap behind the counter said he could do it.
After buying a very expensive loaf of Mother's Pride for 72p, I checked into the hostel and met three other cyclists, two of which were from the Faeroes. They were cycling from the north of Shetland to the Isles of Scilly. They appeared not to be too well prepared route-wise, or anything else, let alone their clapped-out bikes, the two younger ones had never been south of the Scottish border. I got the impression that the three of them were related, maybe the older one was a father or uncle. We chatted for a while, with them asking lots of questions about the geography of England and what the hills were like. We poured over maps.

I unloaded the panniers, picked a bunk, locked my bike in the shed, had a shower, then ate. I’d come stocked up with food for a few meals, so I got started with smoked fish, dried mashed potato, bread and Primula - a strange concoction, but very tasty. I went out to the phone box again and phoned home, then phoned Val and Loz to say thanks for helping me out. Monica Pearce from the Cardiology Fund had phoned the hostel during the day and left a message wishing me luck.

I mooched around a bit for the evening as there was no telly or radio, so read some bits of National Geographic in the lounge and then got turned in with a Peanuts cartoon book. I was fast asleep by 10.15.

During the night the fire alarm sounded - false alarm thank goodness. The warden, a Scouser, apologised and said that is was because it was made in Britain! He added that to get a faulty smoke detector fixed, he would need to get the engineer from Inverness, 120 miles away. Also, when the VAT comes on fuel, he reckoned that the place may have to close because it would make a loss. What a shame.


SUNDAY 29th MAY
Up bright and early at 6.45 and eager for the off. After a wash and dressing into my bike gear and a cup of tea, it was beans on toast. I chatted over breakfast with my Shetland friends, and asked one of them to take my photograph outside the hostel.


I was on the road at 8.25 and followed my nose the few miles to John O'Groats proper. I reset my cycle computer, and took a couple of photographs at the signpost. The place was deserted, maybe it was because it was early on a Sunday morning. Off I pedalled south towards Wick on the A99, the same road I’d travelled the previous afternoon.

I made Wick at 9.40 with the wind over my left shoulder and joined the A9 at Latheron. The route became progressively hilly, with the last 10 to 15 miles very difficult, I felt that I should have re-geared the bike with even more low ratios for the journey. The worst bit on this first day was definitely the steep ‘Braes of Berriedale’.

As it turned out, the gearing was fine, though I did worry about the route from Inverness to Pitlochry, or even the Scottish Borders and Cumbria.

The day’s ride was only 52.2 miles and I’d only spent 4 hours in the saddle. It had been a difficult first day and I wasn’t completely confident that I could keep to my schedule.

I arrived at Helmsdale at 1pm, the YHA wasn’t going to open until 5, I was hungry - desperately hungry. I found the nearest hotel advertising bar meals, and entered the Belgrave Hotel. It was friendly and chatty, and the barman came from Wiltshire! I started to think that the Highlands were populated by Southerners!

I felt that I’d had a good introductory first day’s ride, though I was very tired due to a lack of training and the very steep hills. I knew I'd improve as the miles progressed. At least the weather was OK, very sunny though with a bitterly cold wind. I was wearing tights, T shirt, cycling top and jumper, not to mention the blasted helmet I’d promised to wear!

I chose the Steak and Kidney Pie, Chips and Peas for £4.50 and washed it down with 3 pints of McEwan’s 80/-. Very nice and relaxing. I left there at 2.45, for a short sight-seeing tour, then lay down on a grassy bank near the railway station and promptly fell asleep in the sunshine. I awoke an hour later to the sound of Westminster Chimes from the monument clock. I phoned Hilary to let her know all was ok, and that I was fed and watered. Then a bit more sight-seeing in a park by the river whilst awaiting 5pm for YHA to open.

I bought milk and eggs for tea and for the following morning’s breakfast from a little shop just before it closed, and booked in to the YHA at 5pm prompt. There was only cold water for a wash, and I climbed into ‘normal’ clothes and made a cup of tea. The hostel was very spartan and arranged in a communal way with open plan kitchen and bench seats and big tables, and sadly, no telly or radio.

After phoning Hilary again, my Shetland friends had arrived so we had a long chat about the route so far and how we we doing. They had been very slow compared to me (as expected). I was invited to join them with their ‘Faeroe Fruit Soup’. It was very good, much like a tin of fruit cocktail heated up, with banana, peach, pear, apple, sultanas, and more - very nice and different.

Also in the hostel there was a young law student from Exeter University cycling to Land's End off-road! God knows what route he followed or how long it took him.

The five of us walked down to the town for chips during the evening. I turned in at 9.30 and slept like a log.


MONDAY 30th MAY
I was up at 6.30 with boiled eggs, toast, Primula, chicken roll and two cups of tea - nice breakfast! Went on to a good clean-up of the hostel’s bunk areas, bathrooms and kitchen etc, then got my stuff organized ready for the off.

I left with lots of good-byes to all at 7.50. It was a slow, hard ride out of Helmsdale southwards, some hills, but mainly because it was very wet with that awful Scottish rain - all thin and drizzly. It was a good job I was well wrapped up against the cold and damp. I stopped a couple of times in the first few hours for chocolate and water, wondering if this weather was going to be the way of it, all the way to Land’s End.

I made the little town of Tain, half way to Inverness, and got stuck in to Mars and peanuts whilst sat on a park bench. An elderly man gave admiring glances to my bike, so we had a chat and he told me he used to race Mercians in his younger days. I told him of my adventures, and was off again by 10.45.

The wind and drizzle was really getting to me, and the A9 was more and more busy, so I took a left turn to follow the B871 through Invergordon on the Firth of Cromarty. It was a level route and quiet - thank goodness - but still very windy.

I cracked the first 100 miles of the journey at 12.15 in Alness, just south of Invergordon and re-joined the busy A9. I was cold, damp and tired, and my spirits were low. I found a small cafe next to a garden centre, propped my bike up, went in, and ordered quiche and salad - very welcome, but not as welcome as the large pot of tea! Not bad value for £3.80. I was very wet and cold, so I took my time over the tea and I warmed up, all the time studying my maps and hoping I’d make Inverness soon. It was still raining as I left the cafe at 12.45.

I arrived in Inverness at 3pm. The 20 miles from Alness were difficult because of rain, wind and heavy traffic over the Black Isle. Eventually, I had to don my cycling cape as the rain was really lashing down. I wished I'd done it earlier, and I kept it on right up to entering the hostel. Mind you, I walked round the town a bit looking for the hostel and had to ask the way at a police station. I found the hostel right in middle of town opposite the castle.

After checking in and finding a bunk, I phoned home and spoke to Beverly, and told her I’d phone again at 6pm.

I went out for a spot of shopping, bought four bars of Dairy Milk, sausages, bread rolls and milk. I decided to have soup and finish off the Mother's Pride for tea, but popped in for a Macdonald's to keep me going. The weather cleared up for the evening - better late than never!

My Shetland friends arrived at 5.30. They'd not booked but luckily there was just enough room for them. Again, we chatted about our routes and the mountains. I said that I was taking the shortest most direct route over the Grampians, they favoured the ‘Great Glen’ A82 via Loch Ness and Rannoch Moor - flatter, but further. I warned them that Rannoch Moor was 30 odd miles of nothing but bleakness, and they’d have to tackle the city of Glasgow.

I phoned Hilary at 6, then went into the lounge to watch the weather forecast at 6.30 - but it was a Bank Holiday. I chatted to other hostellers, and discussed sightseeing in the North West of Scotland with a couple of leather-clad German motorcyclists.

I had the soup, bread and a cup of tea, then checked my bike over and discovered that my front tyre was a bit soft.

The hostel was quite luxurious, almost like a hotel. It used to be a large mansion house at the turn of the century. The weather was still clear, but quite windy. I caught the late weather forecast at 9.35 - it didn't look too good. I turned in at 20 to 10. I’d spent nearly 6 hours in the saddle for the 69.8 miles from Helmsdale, making a total of 122.1 miles so far.

It had been a hard day again, although my stamina was increasing as I'd expected. The next day would be even more difficult over the Grampians, I hoped desperately that the weather would be good to me.


TUESDAY 31st MAY
I was awake at 6 and up at 10 past and washed and dressed by 25 past. Trouble was, nowt was open in the hostel - no telly lounge, no reading room, nothing. Not even the kitchen! Couldn't even make a cuppa! So I sat down on the stairs in the foyer.

For breakfast - eventually, after they'd opened up, - I had sausages, bread rolls, chocolate biscuits and cups of tea. All done by 7.35.

Out at my bike, I replaced the front inner-tube with a spare, I couldn’t be bothered fiddling with it, for I was eager to get going and tackle the mountains, so I stuffed the punctured tube into my bags to be operated on later.

I left Inverness at 8.10 not before saying a cheery good-bye to my Shetland friends. The older chap handed me a little red New Testament and wished me well with my travels. I thanked him and shook hands with the three of them and wished them good luck. I never did find out their names, and I didn’t see them again. I often wonder how they got on.

The wind was still blowing, but this time from the west, and thankfully, the sky looked fairly clear.

The first 18 miles out of Inverness were very much uphill and very hard work, but the weather was still pleasant with strong and variable winds, none of them seeming to be against me. I hoped it would stay like that. I tried to get off the main A9 as often as I could and followed the ‘old road’ that still existed along some stretches. The dual carriageway was very busy with lorries and heavy traffic - no fun on a bike. I made the first 23 miles over the ‘Slochd Summit’ (1300ft) to very pretty place called Carrbridge at 10.10 and took photographs of the so-called famous bridge. Then more drinks and chocolate.

I pedalled straight through the ski-holiday resort of Aviemore and reached Kingussie at noon. I stopped for lunch of eggs I'd hard boiled, rolls and biscuits, also finished off my water, and made a mental note to fill up before I left. I sat on a sunny bench at the side of the main street, it was lovely and warm, but still very windy and turning southerly again. I took 45 mins off, chatting to passers-by and even some tourists from Nottingham having a coach stop on their Scottish tour. I left at 12.45 via an Esso station for a trip to the loo and a fill up with water.

The A9 went up, and up, and up. Another 18 miles of it! Also too, too windy.

Eventually, I made the top of the Drumochter Pass at 2.40, (1500ft) 62 miles out of Inverness - now that's what I call a hill! From there it goes down hill all the way to the River Forth. Wow!

After freewheeling for a massive 10 miles at a steady 35 mph, I turned off the main A9 again and entered Blair Athol. I phoned Hilary to give her a progress report.

I arrived at Pitlochry at 4.15 and checked into the hostel. I showered and changed - goodness, I needed that! Then checked over my bike and locked it into the shed. I was very tired despite having freewheeled for so long. After all, I’d cycled all of 86 miles right over the Grampian Mountains, and been in the saddle for nearly 7 hours. It had been a hard ride let alone carrying all that weight. Mind you, my morale was increasing, I’d cracked the first 200 miles! I aimed to be in bed early again.

I took a gentle stroll into the town centre to devour some fish and chips. I rounded it off with a couple of pints of Bass at a nearby pub. There didn’t appear to be many shops here to speak of except tourist stuff: kilts, woollens, pottery jewellery etc. Eventually, I found a normal shop and bought bread, cheese and a tin of beans.

There was no sign of the Shetland lads, I felt they'd probably made the decision to go the longer route via Fort William and A82. Anyway, good luck and best wishes to them. Also no sign of the off-road law student!

I was still hungry, and I decided to have beans on toast or something later. My hunger was something to behold, and I wondered if my waistline was going down, I doubted it! I’d caught the sun during the day, my face and arms were burning slightly. I turned in at 9.45, and found that my soap had been nicked from the bathroom!




WEDNESDAY 1st JUNE
Up at 6.30 - still no sign of my soap. and so had to wash with shampoo. I was feeling quite tired, and could do with a day off. My arms were sore with sunburn, so I hoped it wouldn’t be too sunny for the day’s ride to Edinburgh. There didn't seem to be any wind as yet, though it was forecast. I took the step of wearing shorts rather than tights, and just a light top.

Cup of tea and breakfast of cheese on toast, beans and a further two cups of tea set me up for the 70 mile ride to Edinburgh.

I left the hostel at 7.50 and after a couple of water stops, reached Perth at 9.50 having done 26 miles, I was glad to have finished with the A9.

I bought two small bottles of Kia-ora and had a sit-down by the river for a Mars. The weather was blustery, but quite warm.

Kinross came at 11.45 via many road changes and stops for map readings, my navigation skills were good, and I’d done a great deal of research. I bought a hot mince and onion pie, and ate it and a bar of chocolate in the park by Loch Leven where we used to go with Katy-Daughter and Sally-Dog all those years ago. It brought back memories! I lay down on the grass and rested a while.

The weather and me became a little chilly, so I put on my jumper, then was back on my way by 12.30, and decided to call in on my old friend Tam Duncan at his house in Crossgates. Sadly, after finding the house, he wasn't in, so I left a message. (It turned out that I'd only missed him by 15 mins or so.)

I made Inverkeithing, and phoned Hilary, then bought sausages, Flora, milk, corned beef and a couple of bananas. I crossed the Forth Bridge, and stopped for half an hour at the services south of the river for an 80p pot of tea.

Edinburgh 3pm with the noise and heavy traffic. I got off my bike and found the general area of the hostel, but had to ask a policeman for the exact location. I still couldn't find it, so I asked again at a shop.

After finally finding the Hostel, I booked in, price inclusive of Continental Breakfast (7am) and had a welcome shower with just shampoo. (I forgot to buy soap!). I unpacked a bit then went downstairs for a cuppa and loads of chocolate biscuits.

I found Riery's Pub, recommended by the hostel receptionist, and sank a few excellent pints of McEwan's 80/at £1.56, plus a chat or two with folk about my travels and ‘Life’ in general - typical pub stuff.

Back at the hostel for nosh of 5 rounds of bread and Flora, a tin of corned beef, and a tin of sweetcorn. Very nice - I was starving! I phoned Hilary at 6.15, then checked out the punctured inner-tube I’d taken off at Inverness. The valve fitting was coming away from the tube, so I ditched it - I had more spares.

The weather had definitely become warmer after leaving the Highlands and dropping down into the Forth Valley, I even saw bluebells in flower just south of Perth. I’d been cycling just over 5 hours and covered 70.8 miles during the day. I’d ridden a total of 280 miles in four days - 70 miles a day! My morale was high.



THURSDAY 2nd JUNE
I was up at 6.45 after a good night's sleep but still feeling tired. My Continental Breakfast consisted of Alpen, bread, cheese, ham, orange juice - quite nice, and made a change. I started my nosh even before the staff had set up properly, the hostels didn't seem to cater for the early riser.

I was on the road at 7.45, all loaded up and looking forward to the long journey to Carlisle and England. Edinburgh was full of traffic and noise again - euch!

I left the city on the A7 and climbed into the Moorfoot Hills of the Southern Uplands. It was lovely scenery and the weather was quite good, but still a little windy for me. I took a few minutes off at Stow, a very pretty and quiet village, I’d done 20 odd miles and had a need for chocolate.

I went straight through Galashiels and stopped for lunch in the town of Selkirk on a bench in the town square. Why build a town half way up a mountain? The hill was awful. It was steep and narrow and busy with traffic. For lunch I had cheese, cold sausage, bread, banana, and more chocolate. As I’d found a pound coin on the cobbles beneath my seat, I decided to buy more chocolate soon. It wasn’t that I had a sweet tooth, I just had a great need for calories! Anyway, after an hour I was on my way again, 39 miles from Edinburgh, 50 odd to Carlisle.

It was still uphill out of Selkirk, but down a bit to Hawick I didn't stop, but tried to think of a limerick: “I was up in the hills above Hawick, Whilst cycling along on my bike”............. anyway, I pressed on south and uphill.

The top came at 63 miles from Edinburgh at Teviothead. When the road eventually went downhill towards Langholm and Carlisle, I still had to pedal because of a very strong southerly wind.

I flopped onto cool green grass in a park by the river in Langholm. I rested for a while with more chocolate and also fed some birds with my spare bread. I tried to phone Hilary, but there was quite a queue outside the call box at the entrance to the park, so I pressed on south again.

Over the English Border at 4.15 just north of Longtown. I got quite a move-on as the wind became favourable. The hedgerows became even more spring-like as I approached England and came down out of the mountains, and I saw a great many primroses. Then the A7 started to feel more urban as I approached Carlisle, and the traffic increased tremendously.

My hunger became almost unbearable. Just in time, I spotted a chip shop. Trouble was, it was across four lanes of stop/start rush-hour traffic. I got off my bike, navigated me and it across the road on foot, bought steak pie and chips, then sat down on a bench in a grassy area next to a bus stop back on the original side of the road! My goodness was I ready for that nosh! I just absorbed it!

Whilst eating and calming down, I tried to work out where I was in relation to my little map of Carlisle so I could find the hostel. Then I realised that I was sitting just opposite the right road! I fought my way across the four lanes of traffic yet again, and set off on the last few hundred yards of the day.

I arrived at the hostel at 5.30 to be reminded that I'd booked myself in for the evening meal! Oops! (and breakfast the next morning.) Anyway, I knew that I could still eat a horse even after the pie and chips! I’d spent over 7 hours pedalling, covering 92.8 miles during the day - I needed food!
I phoned Hilary and unloaded my stuff. I claimed a bunk, showered and changed. Then it was a meal at 7 pm of barbecued chicken and roast spuds, followed by fruit and yoghurt - at last, I was full up! I went and had a lie down and promptly fell asleep not waking till 9 pm. Then I walked to a nearby pub, phoned Hilary again, and had a couple of pints. Back at the hostel I went straight back to bed!


FRIDAY 3rd JUNE 1994
I awoke at 6.00, but lay there till 6.45, my in-house breakfast wasn't booked until 8.00. Rain had poured down during the night and was still bucketing down as I started breakfast. Oh well, only 55 miles or so today. I hoped Arnside Hostel had drying facilities, not to mention a decent washing area, as I was getting low on clean gear.

Anyway I was away at 10 to 9 after a lovely Full English Breakfast. The weather was trying to clear up, but it turned out to be basically rotten. Wind, rain, more wind and even more wind and rain. The A6 seemed interminable.

Shap Fell was great, and a fantastic achievement to get over, though I was glad I was going south as the Fell is an escarpment, the road being very much more steep on the southern side. I sheltered in a shopping arcade in the middle of Penrith out of the heaviest of the rain, and chatted with passers-by who were sheltering too. It was so nice to hear ‘real’ accents again.

I had many stops during the day for ‘cape-on’ and ‘cape-off’, water, and more chocolate. I called into a little shop in Shap village, and was welcomed by: “Are y’all right luv?” I was tired, wet and bedraggled, I must have looked quite a sight. I bought a good old Northern meat pie, more chocolate, and bacon and bread rolls for the following day’s breakfast.

The weather continued to be rotten.

I turned off the A6 and made my way along B roads via Milnthorpe to Arnside Hostel, arriving at 4.15. I wasn’t able to check in as they weren't open for business till 5, although most of the communal rooms were open for us weary travellers. I phoned Hilary, then got stuck into a snack of bread and bananas.

What a lovely hostel it was, very comfortable, friendly and yet private. Also clean and bright - and dry! The dorm overlooked Morecambe Bay and the rotten weather. I managed to do some washing, drying it on the old fashioned radiator in the dorm that was nice and hot. I also aired my towel, shorts, shoes and cycling mitts.

Arnside YHA was noted for it’s Whole Food cooking - the dining area was open to the public, and was packed!. I’d booked an evening meal and really enjoyed it, it was very filling and nourishing - steak pie, spuds and all the trimmings. Apple pie and custard for afters.

I shared the dorm with two lads cycling to John O’Groats, it appeared that Arnside is just about half way. They had left Land's End on the same day that I had started out from John O’Groats but they were taking 13 days and going via Fort William and Loch Ness. (the route my Shetland friends favoured). We swapped notes and distances and I discovered that Wrexham may be further than I'd calculated. They reckoned it was well over the magic 100 miles, not the 90 that I’d calculated.

After swapping cycling stories, I got to bed at 9.45. I’d been cycling for 6 Hours and covered 61.1 miles.

My total so far was 434 miles.

SATURDAY 4th JUNE
Up at 6.00, wash etc then down for four bacon rolls - lovely! The weather looked lovely too - blue skies, birds singing - but still windy. I tried to be away by 7.00 but was unable to get my bike out of the shed as the warden had the only key. He didn't start work till 7.30!

Along B roads, then joined the A6 again, reaching Garstang at 9.25. That was 26 miles non stop - I was feeling good and strong. The wind was across from the west and from the north a bit, helping me on my way. I pushed on straight through Preston and joined the A49, calling in at Charnock Richard church to visit Mum and Dad’s grave.

At 11.30 I’d made it to Standish, and called into a chip-shop for steak pudding, chips and gravy, and big mug of tea, all for £1.79! T'riffic! It made me feel naughty and decadent, mind you it was good! I’d covered 50 miles at an average speed of 13.8 mph. I was going great guns!

The weather was still fair, but ever so windy, and thankfully just about on my side. I kept up a good speed, and was aware that my appetite was stabilising, I wasn’t craving chocolate and the like all the time - I must be getting used to all this punishment. The route became, for the uninitiated, very complicated, but for me, straightforward, knowing the area. It was strange cycling through Wigan again, after all these years.

For a while, I cycled alongside another chap through the town. He was out for a training ride for the afternoon, we swapped cycling stories as we negotiated all the traffic lights and roundabouts. He peeled off to the east, I pressed on south.

I made my way through Warrington, Frodsham and Chester, and into Wales. I was tired, but strong. The roads were straight and flat, and the weather bright and clear. I kept to the main roads, some of them dual-carriageways as they were more direct than the B road route that I had planned. I was conscious of the mounting distance and time, but my spirits were raised because I’d cracked the first 500 miles.

After over 7 hours in the saddle and 100.3 miles, I arrived at Pene’s house. My calculations had been definitely out. Richard was at Pene's shop, so I spoke to him on the phone, he said to get a bath and help myself to the home-brew! Both the bath and the beer were really welcome, I'm not too sure which I enjoyed the most!

Richard came back with Angela at around 5. It was very nice to meet her, but I was sad that Pene was away with Pete for the weekend at a beer promotion and festival for traders. We had spag-boll for tea, then went out for a couple of pints in the town. We had all eaten too much, so couldn't manage many beers, though we enjoyed the walk and atmosphere of Wrexham throbbing on a Saturday night!

I was in bed by 10.15.


SUNDAY 5th JUNE
I was up at 6.45, then had a fry-up breakfast with Angela and Richard. Afterwards, I prepared my bits and pieces for the day's ride and checked and rechecked the mileage to Malvern. After all, if I could make a mistake once, I could do it again. I made it just over 90 miles.

The rear tyre was rather soft, so pumped it up and made a note to keep an eye on it. My wheels and tyres were taking a great deal of punishment with the miles and the heavy weight of me and my stuff.

As I left, Richard kindly handed me £5 for the Cardiology Fund. I was on the road rather later than I wished, and after 16 odd miles the rear tyre was soft again. I changed tube and planned to repair it in the evening at Great Malvern. That made two tubes consumed so far, I would have to assess my spares situation.

I made my way south from Wrexham along the A528 to Shrewsbury, and then followed the A49. Noon came, and I’d made the 40 odd miles to Church Stretton, so I took a breather with a can of Coke and a Mars. I was quite tired because the wind had been against me again. Although sunny, it was quite chilly. My rear tyre was still OK, but the tread was wearing alarmingly.

The day’s halfway point came at Craven Arms, and I stopped at a little cafe for a bacon toastie and tea, very nice. I was on my way again at lpm after trying to phone Hilary - no reply. Ludlow was lovely. It was a Sunday afternoon, and the flea market was in full swing. I took a sight-seeing ride around the town, and really felt that we had to come back and stay over some time.

I had to keep referring to my maps as the route became quite complicated, changing roads every few miles in an effort to make my way south-east from Ludlow, through Bromyard to Great Malvern.

Half way between Tenbury Wells and Bromyard disaster struck. The rear tyre blew out with a loud bang! I stopped on the side of the road on a grassy bank to survey the damage. A middle-aged couple passing on bikes offered help, but they were only able to sympathise and to chat. The blown-out tube was completely irreparable, but luckily the tube I'd taken off earlier that morning wasn’t too bad.

After sticking on a patch, I was on my way again. Actually, I should've changed the tyres over front-to-rear, as the rear one was almost worn out. All was well until I was within 100 yards or so of the hostel when it blew out again. This time it was repairable, thankfully, and this time I changed over the tyres. I suppose I could have walked and pushed the bike to the hostel, and fixed it all later, but that would have been cheating!

I arrived at Malvern Hills YHA at 5.20 and booked in for an evening meal. Nice nosh, a chat or two, checked over my tyres and tubes situation, then got to bed by 9.20. I’d been in the saddle for nearly 7 hours, done 92 miles since Wrexham and completed a massive 626 miles - 78 miles a day!


MONDAY 6th JUNE
Up at 6.30. I immediately checked out the worn-out tyre on the front of my bike. It was still OK and inflated nice and hard.

A wash and a cuppa were followed by smoked sausage and buttered toast. I would have to buy more food and chocolate for Street and beyond. Whilst cooking breakfast in the consevatory kitchen, a fox crossed the garden and into the trees outside the kitchen windows, how pleasant! The hostels are certainly in lovely surroundings.

I was on my way by 7.45, but phoned Hilary from a box just up the road and regaled her with my stories of inner-tubes and tyres! Gloucester came at 9.30, and I called into a cycle shop and bought another spare inner-tube. There were another 30 odd miles to Bristol down the A38. The weather was drizzly at first, though it brightened up by 10.00, and then became hot and stuffy.

I stopped at Thornbury for a lunch of chicken and mushroom pie, chips and can of Coke. Quite nice, but a bit of indigestion afterwards, I probably drank the Coke too fast.

Eventually, I made it through the busy city centre of Bristol and stopped for a breather at Whitchurch at 2.05 (60 miles). There was too much traffic, roundabouts, smelly busses and lorries, and you-name-it. I couldn’t wait to find the A37 and get out towards Midsomer Norton and Wells.

I made it to Street YHA at 5.30, not before getting lost in Glastonbury by taking the wrong road. I asked the way at a grocer’s shop, and took the opportunity to buy yet more chocolate, a tin of beans and a loaf of bread. They were good directions from the grocer and I found my way back to the right road with no trouble at all. I decided to do my time/distance calculations by subtracting the miles I’d done on the wrong road, as if I hadn't gone wrong. I’d officially done over 7 hours pedalling, and covered 85.1 miles.

The hostel was really lovely, just like a Swiss chalet, all wood with verandas. Had nosh, fully self-catering here, of meatballs, soup and wholemeal bread. Very tasty.

A couple more End-to-Enders came in during the evening on their way northwards. They said that they were going the CTC approved route up the A82/Fort William/Loch Ness, and then via Tongue! I explained that it was miles out of the shortest route and that Tongue was right up on the top-left of Scotland, but they’d not listen. Those CTC people need their bumps feeling! One of the lads had a broken spoke, (perhaps that's a metaphor) my spokes are fine.

I studied the maps for the route to Gunnislake, and tried to put mileage and times to places - difficult, but provided I left by 7.30, I would meet up with Ray, landlord of the Cornish Inn, in the outskirts of Okehampton at around 2.15. He had volunteered to meet me on his bike and escort me home to Gunnislake. (and the Cornish Inn!)

It had been a very difficult day all told. I was tired, I was worried about the tyres, my right ankle ached a lot, and my bum and legs ached of course, but the worst thing was the wind! The Somerset Levels are a windy place.

I was in bed by 9.00


TUESDAY 7th JUNE
Up at 6.30 - breakfast of beans on toast. It was an overcast and muggy morning, and by the look of the trees it was windy too. The weather could upset my schedule - I was concerned.

The front wheel was rather soft at the outset, it had the worn-out tyre originally from the rear. I pumped it up and was away on the road at 7.40, forgetting to pick up my YHA membership card from the warden, mainly due to the fact that I left before he turned up. I left a message pinned to his office door asking him to post it to me.

Five miles out I phoned Hilary, but as I hung up I noticed that the front tyre had the tube poking out, the tyre had worn so much. Again, it was puncture outfit time, and I stuck a patch on the inside of the tyre to plug the hole. After it was all back together, the tyre went down, so off it all came again for more repairs. This time I was successful, but it was all very frustrating. I had to buy new tyres as soon as possible.

I stopped at Taunton but couldn't easily see a bike shop, I felt I didn’t have time to hang around, I phoned home to keep Hilary in the know, and pressed on for Wellington. There, I found a shop on the main street and bought two 23mm Michelins on offer at £5.50 each, not brilliant tyres, but they’d suffice and were a good price.

Out on the pavement, I changed the front tyre, coiled up up the other stowing it neatly on the rear pannier rack, and then unceremoniously dumped the worn out one in the nearest bin. I was away shortly after, down the A361.

I made Tiverton relatively easily at 42 miles, and then phoned Hilary again. I found a small roadside cafe for pasty and cup of tea for a well-earned lunch break. I chatted to an ex-bus driver about my travels, he knew Gunnislake very well and warned me of the hill out of Bickleigh, saying it was worse than Sand Hill Gunnislake! I decided to wait and see, but he was right! What a morning it had been.

I felt I was still ok to make Okehampton for 2.30, after all, it was only another 30 more miles, but I hadn't reckoned on the Devon hills. Tiverton to Crediton was very, very difficult.

Eventually I got to Okehampton an hour late at 3.30. Ray met me on the outskirts of town, and we chatted and plodded on together towards Tavistock and Gunnislake. It was so nice to have a welcome friendly face and someone to pace me.

We arrived at the Cornish Inn at 5.30 to a reception committee headed by Hilary of course! Many congratulations came my way with pats on the back and amazement at my achievement Then I got stuck into a pint or two. I could've stayed there all night telling everyone my tales of adventure on the roads south!

I tore myself away, off-loaded my heavy panniers into the car for Hilary to transport up Sand Hill, then set off for home on a much lighter bike, and then straight into the bath!.

I was home at 10 past 6, it had taken me 8 hours and 93.8 miles. Then after a meal, it was off to the Queen's Head on foot for more beer and more congratulations, and then home for bed by 10.00.


WEDNESDAY 8th JUNE
Up at 6.30, wash and unpack panniers and remove the racks and mudguards from my bike and replace the rear tyre. Then it was breakfast of sausage sarnies and saffron buns, chatting with Hilary reviewing my journey so far. We arranged for her and Beverly to follow in the car later, and where they should catch me up. I worked out that we could rendezvous at St Austell, or at the farthest, Truro.

I was away at 7.45. It was so easy cycling without heavy panniers, so got a good move on. The weather was sunny with a fresh, favourable wind across from the south. I reckoned that I should make Land’s End by 4.30 or so.

As expected, Hilary and Beverly caught me up just beyond St Austell. After a quick chat, water and Mars, I was off towards Truro, Hilary and Beverly forging ahead, looking for a pub for our lunch. They discovered Probus and the Hawkins Arms at 41 miles, which was about half way to Land's End. I wasn’t far behind, and pulled in at 11.45.

We stopped for an hour over lunch. I had ham egg and chips and a pint. My ankle was still hurting quite a lot on leaving home and after lunch, but it felt much better as the afternoon progressed. We had a couple more stops en-route for teas and coffees and chocolate, all very welcome.

Sean Horan caught me and Hilary up on the Penzance by-pass, taking my photograph as I sped by, pulling a face. Sean, Hilary and Beverly pressed on to Land's End, though not leaving me till I'd had another compulsory Mars!

I arrived at Land's End at 4.20 to a reception committee fronted by Monica Pearce and friends of the Cardiology Fund, and had an official photograph taken at the famous signpost - a good shot too. Hilary presented me with a lovely rose and Beverly with a card. I signed the End-to-End register at the hotel and had a well-earned cuppa.

Gunnislake to Land’s End had taken me just over 6 hours in the saddle, for the 83.9 Miles.

I was sad it was over, I’d enjoyed it, even though at times, especially in the early days, it had been tough. But actually, when I thought about it, I felt supremely fit, I could easily have turned right round and gone all the way back!

We loaded my trusty bike into the back of the car, and, as Hilary appeared more tired than me, I drove us home! It was weird driving after all that cycling. The journey home was uneventful, arriving home at 10 past 7. I had the Thursday off to reIax, then collected my hire car on the Friday to re-join HMS Argyll as planned over in Portsmouth.






SUMMARY
80.8 - Average miles per day
9.9 mph - Average speed including stops per day
11 full days travelling
71 hours and 10 minutes in the saddle

889.3 Total Miles John O'Groats to Lands End








The End




or is it?