Lordy my calves are killing me! It’s three days and I’m knackered, but instead of staying at this hostel (my first of the trip) two nights I’m aching to continue on. Time to head right and hope for a tailwind. It’s been a ridiculous ride of heavy head winds so far.
Started by training to Dunkell within plans to be at a hostel. I knew better than to call before I got on the train because somehow I thought perhaps it wouldn’t work out. Guess what, they didn’t answer the phone! I also had some trouble with the train due to the poor booking by the lady in Norwich. Figures, hey? Woulda been better on the phone? Who knows, but 4 trains later I made it just before dark and rolled in to an official camp ground.
I started off that day aprehension but excited. The first bit around Pilotchy was lovely and as I was following the National Cycle Network I was able to easily go on some backroads. They were a bit hilly, but the traffic free nature was worth it. By midday the rains and winds had come on and stuck with me for the next 24 hours. I was pushing against the most fierce headwind for at least the last 10 miles. My body was suffering from fatigue and I was getting worried about where I would stay. I figured I’d be wild camping that night, but the route kept me on a cycle path between the A9 and railroad.
Finally, I spotted a clump of trees and prayed this would be my home that night. I even knocked on a nearby house but no one was home as it was only 4pm. I went down to the trees and found they were fenced in! What? I guess to keep the sheep out… Ther was a lodge down there, but it was being renovated.. figures. I was getting chilled trying to make up my mind and started to panic a little. I really wasn’t sure the outcome of any decision (either tw) I could make. So I went for it and squatted a sheep pasture.
I’m pretty sure those trees saved me that night. I kept thinking that if one thing went wrong it could all turn bad quickly. I hunkered in my sleeping bag for about two hours trying to warm up. I should have added a second smart wool to my top and feet – or even broken out the hand warmers, but I was too cold to move. Scary stuff. Finally I got warm and the wind eased off a bit. I quickly gathered some water from the stream… yes, I treated it though it was stilly yucky Scotish river brown… and I’m sure with particles of sheep poo. Made some dins and called my honey. I had a tiny reprieve in the weather to stand outside and gaze down the valley before the wind picked up again.
I haven’t been so scared of the wind since 1992 in Washington State. It as Clinton’s inagguration day and I had stayed home sick from the 6th grade. We lost 26 trees on our property that day and electricity for the next three days. I kept thinking about trees… and how they fall… and so proceeded to dig up all those hymns and church songs to sing in my head for comfort. Around 4am something did fall on me… my bike. I had leaned it up against the fencing and put my tent up close for security. Amazing, that the wind made it through the trees and pushed the bike over like a blade of grass. Luckily I had decided to put my head the other direction and so the bike just went on my feet and I was able to slip out. I grabbed my headlamp and shoes to pull the bike off and push it further away.
I’m not sure I slept anymore even though I kept it dark by tucking my head in the hood of my sleeping bag and cinching up the closure to a 4 inch slit. I ended up staying that way for another 2 or 3 hours until I decided to move and get my clothes on. I stepped out to check the weather and went to the other side of the trees only to be pelted with rain drops. The rain was moving in misty sheets horizontally! I jumped back in the bag to warm up and waited awhile longer. Finally I made some cold cereal and just as I was finishing the weather seemed to break. I’ve never packed up so quickly.
Just as I got my tent down a truck pulled up. I crouched behind my bike a little and tinkered with the poles… holding my breath. He either didn’t see me or didn’t care and after getting through the gate blasted off (probably to go shoot some deer).
I made it to the mountain pass that day – 457meters. Doesn’t seem like much, but I earned it. Had I been able to go another 5 miles the night before I’d have reached a Bed and Breakfast, ergh. Oh well, was an adventure!
Tags: bike, Cycle Tour, Hymn, Rain, Scotland, travel, wander, Wind
