Plans for next year

For the past couple years, really since my cancer diagnosis and full recovery in 2003, I've been wandering aimlessly through my life. Not really detached, but also not really having a plan or goal. So suddenly, I have two goals. One for next Spring, and another for the following Summer.

Next Spring, I plan to participate in Randonneur USA's Brevet Series. This is a series of bicycle rides of increasing distance, all designed to be ridden in a predefined time limit. They typical series is as follows:

200 kilometers (129 miles) in 13.5 hours or less
300 kilometers (192 miles) in 20 hours or less
400 kilometers (251 miles) in 27 hours or less
600 kilometers (375 miles) in 40 hours or less
1000 kilometers (620 miles) in 75 hours or less

The point of all this is not necessarily to see who is the fastest, though speed is obviously important to some. The greater import is given to those who can devise and execute a plan to finish in a decent time. Keep in mind that the times are absolute wall clock times, not cumulative times over several stages. For example, if the 600K ride starts at 6 a.m., all riders must be finished by 10:00 p.m. the following evening.

It is a challenge, especially the longer rides. I have personally completed many 200K rides, and 2 300K rides. But nothing longer than that. So the Spring of 2008 may see me complete my first Brevet Series. Wish me luck...

The second challenge, slated for 2009, will be a "crossing the USA the short way" ride from Florida to New York, ostensibly for the Juvenile Diabetes Foundation, with a friend from work. We shall see how that goes, as well. I'll keep you posted.

More pet blogging

A couple pics of our cat Jimmy and dog Sadie. We love 'em!

RIP, Sammie...

Sammie, our beloved orange tabby, gave up her fight against kidney failure on August 6. May her consciousness have an easy journey through Bardo, and may she come back in the human realm.

More catblogging

Another pic of our beautiful cat Tashi (and she knows it...)

Tuesday Cat Blogging

Haven't put up a pic of my cat Jimmy yet. His official name is Jhim-nei, some Tibetan name that my wife thought would be cool. I think it means "Lucky" or some such.



He is definitely the "coolest" of our pets. Aloof as cats should be, potent killer (he was getting a bird a day over one stretch last winter), lazy as can be. And friendly when he wants to be.

Intro - Bicycling the Scottish Highlands

Well, I've decided to blog about what I do best... bicycle touring. I can get all irate at any moment, just thinking about the steaming pile of crap that our government has become. But that isn't entertaining, and if you consider that to be entertaining, then check out any of the blogs in my blogroll.

In the meantime, I'll write about what I know best. First up: a trip report from Scotland, one of my favorite tours that I've done.

Scotland 2002

The Gentle Reader will never, never know what a consummate ass he can become, until he goes abroad. I speak now, of course, in the supposition that the Gentle Reader has not been abroad, and therefore is not already a consummate ass.

-- Mark Twain

Why Scotland? I'd been thinking about a tour in Scotland for a couple years now. I'd heard that it was a great place to bike tour, and had read some tour reports by other cyclists. It just seemed like a beautiful country, and I had to see for myself!

After checking into a solo tour, I found an organizer who put together a nice package that included baggage transfer and arranging accomodations, but not really leading the group. This sounded great to me, and I thought some of my fellow Tarwheelers might be interested. So, I asked if anyone wanted to come along. To my surprise, 10 others said that they wanted to come. The small group that I had envisioned, had mushroomed into a much larger, though intriguing, group.

So I contacted the organizer, Bespoke Highland Tours, and asked if they could handle 11 people. Sure, they could, as a group. Thus, our Tarwheel Scotland tour was born. The idea was that we would meet in Glasgow, getting there however we could manage, then start the tour together. After the original tour of seven days was complete, we would scatter to the four winds and make our way back home after possibly exploring more of the country on our own. For example, I had planned to bike up the northeast coast ofScotland, finishing up with a day in the Orkneys before heading back to London.

Bill and Ian, from Bespoke Highland Tours - they made it happen!

So, that's how it got started. And this travelogue is a feeble attempt to tell how it all turned out (in a word, it was wonderful!).

Our group consisted of a total of 11 people. Of the 11, six of us had previous experience on
multi-day, self-contained bike camping trips. Four others had experience with multi-day trips where the luggage was transported. And the 11th person had just biked a century (100 miles) the previous year, so I knew she'd do all right. In addition, I knew that this group would be a fun bunch, able to laugh at adversity and turn it into just another part of the experience, instead of allowing it to ruin the trip. So, we were ready!

The itinerary (I've marked the days where all 11 of us rode together with '*'):

• Prolog - Flying to London and training to Glasgow


• Day 1 - Glasgow and Paisley(*)


• Day 2 - Tulloch to Fort William(*)


• Day 3 - Fort William to Glenfinnan(*)


• Day 4 - Glenfinnan to Acharacle(*)


• Day 5 - Acharacle to Arisaig(*)


• Day 6 - Day Trip to Eigg(*)


• Day 7 - Arisaig to Isleornsay(partial *)


• Day 8 - Isleornsay to Arnisdale


• Day 9 - Arnisdale to Ft. Augustus


• Day 10 - Ft. Augustus to Inverness


• Day 11 - Inverness to Cromarty


• Day 12 - Cromarty to Brora


• Day 13 - Brora to Melvich


• Day 14 - Melvich to Finstown


• Day 15 - Finstown to Wick


• Day 16 - Return to Glasgow

I will post each of these days as a blog entry. So enjoy!

June 15 - Arrival in London, transfer to Glasgow

Had an easy transition from plane to train; hit the Gatwick Express and got off at London Kings Cross station. Right across the street from the other Kings Cross station where I was to get my train to Glasgow. I had booked a long connection here, in case I had trouble finding the other station; I needn't have worried. So here I was at Kings Cross, at 9:30, and my train to Glasgow wasn't due to leave until 12:00. But I noticed that there was one leaving for Glasgow at 9:40. Quickly, I asked at the information booth if my ticket was good on that train, and they said it was. So, after only 20 minutes at the station, I was on my way to Glasgow.

Kings Crossing Train Station - London

That's my train, the Flying Scotsman, on the right.

It was a lovely ride to Glasgow. This train (GNER's "Flying Scotsman") goes mostly through pastoral countryside. Very pretty. Newcastle looks like a pretty neat town, at least from the train. If it is a neat town, it would be quite a change. Newcastle, as the center of the old coal mining region, used to be a nasty city. I'll check it out someday.

All in all, I had a very easy journey to Glasgow. Rail travel in Britain is light years ahead of ours.... I'm so jealous.

Didn't feel like trying the subway system just yet, so I just caught a taxi. The subway system is nicknamed "Clockwork Orange" by the locals, because it is made up of one large circular route, and it is painted a bright orange color. It's old, kinda clunky, but it works. It is supplanted by a huge suburban train network, called Strathclyde Public Transportation, which runs commuter trains by the hundreds. Hey, it works, and keeps thousands of cars off the roads.

I was pretty hungry when I got to our overnight accomodations, so I headed across the street to check out the neighborhood pub. Though it was pretty smoky, it was a cool place. Good beer (Tennant's would become my libation of choice), and tasty food.

Pub in Glasgow

June 16 - Arrival in Glasgow

One of our more interesting coincidences of this trip involved a biking friend of ours, who just happened to be touring Scotland with her church's choir. It turned out that she was in Paisley (just down the road from Glasgow) on the same day that many of us arrived, so we headed over to Paisley Abbey to hear her choir group sing. That was pretty cool... the acoustics were marvelous in the old church. The pastor was good-natured, but perhaps a little dull.

Paisley Abbey

After returning to Glasgow, a couple of us headed over to the Barras, an outdoor market that is essentially a large flea market. It seemed kinda seedy, though we did find some excellent homemade lentil soup for lunch. I found a pretty nice T-shirt modeled after the Scottish National rugby team's jersey.

Buchanan Street, Glasgow

Back at the guest house, we met Ian and Bill, who were from Bespoke and were setting up our trip. Very nice guys. They gave us our trip packets, which included maps and info about all of our guesthouses and hotels. Then they bid us goodbye, as they had to drive the bikes up to Tulloch Station to meet us the next morning.

Later we went out to eat, and ended up at a pretty ritzy restaurant. My meal came to about £30, which translates to around $42. It was good, and at that price, it had better be! I have to admit that I got a bit testy on the walk over there, since several of the group 1) didn't think we were going in the right direction; 2) didn't want to eat at that kind of restaurant; 3) were bitching about the weather. So I basically said, if you don't like it, go somewhere else. I wasn't the trip leader. That became something of a joke, since I repeated it several times. I wasn't there to shepherd a bunch of friends, all of whom are strong-willed, around the hills of Scotland. I was there to ride, and if they wanted to come along, fine. Well, it became clear to me that I had to change *my* attitude, and so I decided I wasn't going to take any complaining as a personal attack. And I think everyone enjoyed the trip more because of it.

Tomorrow: We Ride! The weather forecast, as is probably expected for Scotland, is iffy.

June 17 - Glasgow to Tulloch to Ft. William

This morning's challenge would be to get 11 people (many of whom you could *not* call "morning people") awake, fed, packed, and out the door at 7:45. It did work, though, and we made it to our train station by 8:00. We had to be quick on our feet, since the train would only be in the station for about 10 minutes. All trains are used as commuter trains before they are sent out to the countryside, so they can't sit there for an hour waiting for us sleepyheads to arrive.

Lovely ride up to Tulloch Station; alongside Loch Lomond and other lakes in southern Scotland. Tulloch Station was selected as the starting point for two reasons: it is remote, and therefore there is almost no traffic (so we can get used to riding on the left side of the road), and also because it is almost all downhill to Fort William. There's nothing like starting with a long downhill to get you in the mood for a week of bicycling! Anyway, we arrived at Tulloch Station around 11:15. It took about 45 minutes to get everyone's bikes adjusted and tuned for each rider,
then it was time for that downhill!

The Group, starting at Tulloch

Lynn, Paul, Beth R., Maureen, me, Carol, Libby (standing tall, as always!), Caroline, Beth G., Will, and Ken

As is fitting for members of the Carolina Tarwheels, our first order of business after starting the ride was to find lunch. There was a hotel in Roybridge, the first town, and it was open for lunch. So we stopped. I had traditional Fish and Chips, which were quite good. Entertainment was provided by the local dog, who knew how to sit on one of the barstools. Cute.

One of the Regulars at the Roybridge Hotel (picture courtesy of Will)

We shortly turned onto B8004, a secondary road running parallel to the main route to Fort William. This is a neat road! My first experience with the single-lane roads common throughout Scotland. These roads, sometimes dozens of miles long, are a single lane with wider passing areas at regular intervals. It works, but requires cooperation and patience amongst the drivers. Which is why such a system would never work in the U.S. Most of these roads were just wide enough for a car and bicycle to pass, so as a cyclist I usually didn't have to wait in the passing area when a car
overtook me.

Caroline riding alongside the Caledonian Canal

Later we followed the towpath of the Caledonian Canal, which runs the length of the Great Glen and uses Loch Ness to allow boats to cross Scotland at its mid-section. The towpath had nice scenery, but was pretty rough. I ended up riding with Caroline, who discovered at Roybridge that she had left her prescription sunglasses on the train. I stayed with her while she contacted Scotrail, and asked them to send the glasses back on the same train and she would meet the train at Fort

William. So we rode the rest of the way to Fort William together. The delay caused us to miss the last tour of the Ben Nevis distillery, so we decided to defer that side trip until the next morning. Instead, we headed downtown to the train station, and sure enough, on the next train back from Mallaig, they had her glasses!

Checked in at the Rhu Mhor guesthouse, found out that few of our companions were there, so we got cleaned up and took naps.

Later that night, we ate supper at a local restaurant (McTavish's) that included live singing and dancing as part of the "atmosphere". It was kinda kitschy, but fairly amusing. I decided to add a little adventure to the evening by trying Haggis for the first time. For those who don't know what Haggis is, here is Merriam-Webster dictionary's definition:

A traditionally Scottish dish that consists of the heart, liver, and lungs of a sheep or a calf minced with suet, onions, oatmeal, and seasonings boiled in the stomach of the animal.

Well, I think that says it all. It sounds disgusting, but it wasn't at all. I decided after a taste, that I would have it as my main course. It really was quite good! I'm sure if it isn't prepared properly, it could get nasty. But not this evening.

June 18 - Ft. William to Glenfinnan

Caroline and I started the next day by visiting the Ben Nevis distillery, which we had just missed on the previous day. This distillery opens their tours by showing a 10-minute introductory film, to give some background about the whole Whisky thing. The film was called the Dew of Ben Nevis. Well, apparently the film has dubbed versions in Japanese, Spanish, and other languages, as well as English. Our friends who visited the previous day were treated to a showing of the film in Japanese (three times!), then Spanish, before the operator got the right version. I guess it was quite hilarious. Well, we weren't so lucky (??!!). The audio cut out as we were watching (the English version), so we didn't get to see the film at all. Our guide for the tour was one of the workers at the distillery, since the regular summer temp flunkie wasn't there yet. I liked this guy, since he told it like it was. The entire process of making Whisky (spelled without the "e" in Scotland) is pretty fascinating. A good overview can be found on the Glenmorangie Distillery website, www.glenmorangie.com. It is multimedia, so expect a good bit of downloading of movies and sounds. For an extensive explanation of all things Whisky, check out the FAQ list at John Butler's excellent web page. This site also has a slightly interactive map of all registered distilleries in Scotland.

So, anyway, the tour was quite informative and fun. We each got a "wee dram" to try afterward. I bought a small bottle of their Ben Nevis Scotch.

One of the more interesting points they made during the tour is that they recycle all the used ingredients after the distillation. The leftover parts are:

1. Burnt peat, used to give the malt its smoky, peaty flavor. The ashes are used as fertilizer.


2. Malt, after it has been soaked in water to remove the sugars. It is fed to cattle they love it!).


3. Used "wash", or liquid that contains the sugars and fermentation remains after the distillation. This is sprayed onto fields as liquid fertilizer.


4. And of course, the barrels used to age the whisky are used three times.

So, after the tour, it was time to head for the ferry. Now this is not your ordinary ferry; it can only hold six bikes and not many more people. There was no way our group of 11 could all fit on it, so we had discussed over breakfast who would be in which group. The ferry crossed at three different times (9:00, 11:30, and 17:00),
and it worked out very well that we split into three groups of 3, 5, and 3 bikers.

The "Wee Ferry"

The road on the other side of the loch was our next wonderful encounter with the single track roads that are so common here in Scotland. This lovely road wound along the foot of the mountain to the south of Loch Eil, squeezed between the cliffs on the left and the lake on the right. After a while, the valley widened a bit and we passed some small crofts (farms) and villages. Another common sight in the Highlands are phone boxes that are seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Many folks out here cannot afford a phone, so there are community boxes set up in the most unlikely places.

Unfortunately, we were also introduced to what would become an almost daily occurrence: rain. Not a heavy, choking downpour, but a steady cold rain that eventually seeped down our backs and into our shoes. After days of this, I just gave up trying to stay dry, and concentrated on staying warm.

Caroline and Beth G. along Loch Eil

So, by 2:00 p.m., I had reached Glenfinnan. I checked out the monument to Bonnie Prince Charlie, who had tried to start the Jacobite Rebellion in 1745, but was defeated by apathy and the English army at Culloden (see Day 11). Glenfinnan was where he was introduced to the clans who had joined in his dream.

Most of the rest of the group headed to the Glenfinnan House Hotel, where they would catch a boat tour of Loch Shiel. I decided to strike out on my own, first at the Glenfinnan Monument visitors center (where I took the panorama pics above), then up the Glen Finnan itself. This was a strikingly beautiful glen, with steep, barren walls on all sides and a beautiful trout stream running down its length. In retrospect, I think the time I spent in Glen Finnanwas on my list of "Three Most Outstanding Moments of the Scotland Tour". Just gorgeous....

Getting bored with touring the Glen, I headed up to see the Glenfinnan train station, in case I could catch a glimpse of the Jacobite Steam Train. Of course not, it comes through in the morning. Anyway, I didstay long enough for a prawn sandwich at the cafe next door, and visit the small museum at the train station.

Later, Will, Maureen, and I walked back up into the Glen for a while, to get a closeup look at the viaduct. What a beautiful place, and what a work of engineering!

Glenfinnan Monument and Loch Shiel

June 19 - Glenfinnan to Acharacle

A long, tiring day. Made even more so by the constant morning rain, gravel road, and 20% climbing. But I get ahead of myself...

Our first road for the day was a 15-mile stretch of what the Scots call "forest track", I think we would call it forest road or fire road. It was rough, sometimes very rocky, but always beautiful. It was also quite exposed, and we were concerned that a tough headwind might make it a long day for us. Fortunately, though, it didn't seem to bother us much.

Loch Shiel

The forest track wound alongside Loch Shiel, which has to be one of the most beautiful lakes in the world. Just gorgeous.... At the end of the unpaved section was a hiking trail up to an overlook that provided outstanding views up and down the loch.

Leaving the Loch Shiel area, we rode on rolling terrain down through the sleepy village of Polloch, turned the corner away from Loch Shiel, then immediately had to climb out of the valley on "one of the steepest and most difficult hills in all Scotland", as our tour guide Ian called it. Well, he wasn't kidding. This puppy was a mile and a half long, and averaged around 18-25%. This was easily the hardest hill I have ever seen. Whew! It took me about an hour of riding and pushing (yes,
I got off and walked. But I feel no shame!). Two members of our group managed to ride to the top, but the other nine of us could not ride the entire way.

"The Hill" (the orange speck just around the bend of the road is Beth G making her way up the slope.)

After screaming down the other side, we coasted into the tiny hamlet of Strontian, where the metal Strontium has been mined for ages. I found a small store where I could get tea and scones, and settled in to watch a kids' soccer game. Joining the melee was a shepherding dog, probably a Border Collie, and this dog really wanted to herd the ball. It was making all the right gestures to show that it had the instincts to herd, but the only thing here that it could control was the soccer ball. It was quite amusing.

Tonight's overnight accomodations were in the Acharacle Hotel, pronounced a-KHA-ra-cle, which just happend to be on the shores of Loch Shiel. The same loch where we had started that morning. All that stiff climbing, and we end up back at the same exact elevation.

June 20 - Acharacle to Arisaig

This wonderful day started out with me braving the Black Pudding on the menu. For those who don't know, Black Pudding is made with blood. I haven't found out whether it is cow's blood or sheep's. I don't think it really matters... And, of course, bacon. Now we're not talking the thin, fat-laden stuff we buy here in the States. The Scots use the tenderloin, just like Canadian Bacon. So, it's more like eating ham. Very tasty! But I must admit... the Scottish breakfast.... Eggs, Black Pudding, bacon, sausage, potato scones... though irresistable, it really sits heavy in the stomach....

After breakfast, what a glorious day! I think the weather on this day, and the scenery, and diversions, made it my favorite day of the entire two weeks. No rain! That's a good start...

Anyway, we decided to start the day with a detour of about three miles to check out Castle Tioram (pronounced cheer-um), a castle ruin that is on a small island accessible only at low tide. The road out to the castle was quite nice, as well.

Scottish Bridge

Our next diversion came shortly after we got back to the main road. Our trip notes mentioned a side road that would turn into a hiking path, and would eventually take us to a viewing point for St. Fionnan's Isle, an island in Loch Shiel that had been used for centuries as a burial ground for important folks (saints, clan leaders, that sort of thing). Well, this diversion turned out to be quite a trip. The road quit entirely at a gate, but we could easily get around the gate onto a forest track. The track eventually stopped as well, leaving us with a path that varied between well-defined gravel tracks and a slight indentation in the grass. All the while dodging sheep with young lambs scampering about. It was quite a surreal image, I'm sure.

Back on the road, we had glorious weather for the ride alongside Loch Moidart and the climb up over the Glenuig Hill. The descent down the other side was probably the best downhill of the entire trip, since it was fast, straight, and two lanes! Very enjoyable. After lunch at the Glenuig pub, we headed east along the Moydart Peninsula to a small beach overlooking Samalaman Island, with a view to Eigg and Rum Islands.

View over the Sleat towards Eigg and Rum

Our last few miles into Arisaig were also packed with attractions, like the church that was usedas the church in "Local Hero". And another monument to Bonnie Prince Charlie, this one a modest cairn erected to mark the spot where he fled the Scottish mainland after his defeat at Culloden.

The riding was completed by a ride through a virtual rain forest, with stone walls on either side of the road, and moss-draped trees forming a canopy over the road. Though it was still single-lane, and somewhat dangerous, it was a really nice cycling experience. I entertained Will and Caroline with a rousing rendition of the famous motorcycle song, "1952 Vincent Black Lightning". Our route this day finished in Arisaig, a nice little touristy spot that will soon be bypassed by a new highway that will stay high above the ocean. Fortunately, they will leave the old road to be taken over by cyclists.

Heading into Arisaig

June 21 - Off day in Arisaig

All bike tourists should plan for days off the bike. They refresh the mind and body, and provide a nice break from the routine. Our break today was a trip on a ferry out to the Small Isle of Eigg, off the coast near Arisaig.

Eigg is a very popular destination for hikers in the area. The island is only about 5 miles long, so you can spend the day hiking from end to end. There are also side trails to the Sgurr (or peak), or the Singing Sands, or the Massacre Cave.

Our trip over on the ferry proved to be a wet, messy affair. The wind had picked up overnight, and the rain came down in sheets. I got a wee bit nauseated on the ferry, mostly because I hid inside the cabin area instead of coming out into the rain. I couldn't see the horizon very well.

But the trip over was made more interesting and fun by the addition of Dougal, a dog making the voyage to Rum with his owner (Rum was the next stop on the ferry after Eigg). He caused a bit of a stir by running away at the Eigg ferry terminal, but his owner managed to find him before the ferry departed.

A few of us decided to head for the Kildonnan Chapel, a church ruin situated on the southeast coast of the island. On the way, we encountered one of the locals, and had a nice chat about life on the island, organic gardening (he had a beautiful garden), the teepee set up in his back yard (Oglala Sioux design), and the new pier that was being constructed for the island. Nice man.

Organic gardener's house, Isle of Eigg

After a soggy walk around the tip of the island to the village of Kildonnan, we found the church ruin and investigated the grounds and cemetery. The cemetery had become overgrown with a wild strain of iris, which was in full bloom. It was quite beautiful, with the old headstones, irises, and church ruins. It all had a very gloomy appearance due to the overcast skies and contant rain.

Caroline seems insignificant compared to the basalt columns

June 22 - Arisaig to Isleornsay

Well, here we were at the last day biking as a group. By the end of the day, six of the members would be exploring Skye on their own, Will and Ken would be on a train headed back to Glasgow, and only Paul, Lynn, and myself would continue on bikes.

The group, leaving Arisaig

I somehow ended up riding by myself, though I can't remember why. I headed up toward the town cemetery to see if there was anything interesting there. Then I headed out of town on the main road, expecting it to split shortly after it left Arisaig. But instead I found a large construction project, so I assume that my map had "jumped the gun" and had shown the intended new road as well as the old. No problem... the old road had little traffic. It was quite an interesting little road, with lots of sharp curves and short, steep hills. It's no wonder the folks here want to bypass this road, but I sure hope they keep the old route, as it's a nearly perfect cycling road.

The next stop for me was the beach at Camusdarach, where our tour organizers have a shop. So I stopped in to say Hi to Valerie, Ian's wife. And of course to walk out to the famous "Sands of Morar" beach, where scenes from the movie Local Hero were shot. Click here for more info about locations used for the movie, and click here for more information about the movie. I just love this movie; it's one of my favorites. I also fell in love with the beach then, and it was such a beautiful place that it was quite difficult for me to pull away and head on down the road.

By this time, the wind had picked up again, and it was quite strong as I headed into Mallaig. Fortunately, it was mostly a tailwind, quite a change from the first part of the week.

I ran into most of the rest of the group in Mallaig, so we bid farewell to the ladies headed for Skye. Paul and Lynn were off on their own, so that just left Ken and Will (who would be catching a train for Glasgow in a couple hours). So we did what men have done for ages when the women leave town: we headed for a pub. This time to catch part of the World Cup game between Turkey and South Korea.

My ferry wasn't scheduled to leave for Skye for another couple hours, so I stocked up on snacks at the local food store, watched Ken and Will leave on the train, and wandered around Mallaig looking for Paul and Lynn.

The ferry ride across to Skye was mostly smooth, though the rain descended again and ruined some of the views as we crossed over. Once on Skye, we zoomed up the coast using our nice tailwind, and arrived at our destination (Isleornsay) very quickly. On the way, we saw something that was quite humorous. A sheepherder was trying to shoo his sheep away from the highway. He was using his dog, but not in the way you might think. The dog was laying down in the back of the man's pickup truck. The man was making whistling noises, such as the type that he would use to direct his dog's herding. The sheep heard the whistling, and knew what it meant (that The Dog was around). So the dog really only had to sit in the back of the truck and glower at the sheep to get them to move.

Isle Ornsay lighthouse

This evening would be our first stay at a B&B, as all the other days had been with the large group. It was very nice. Paul, Lynn, and I got to meet the owners and actually talk with them. The local hotel, where we found supper, was a short walk away, and fortuately, the rain held off long enough for us to walk over there and also explore the small marina.

Bonnie Lasses in Isleornsay (and let's be honest... aren't they a pleasant reason to hit the pubs after a hard day in the saddle?)

June 23 - Isleornsay to Arnisdale

After our usual overabundant breakfast, we were off. As has been the case for most of the days so far, we started off in a light rain. It didn't seem bad at all. I guess I was getting used to it. Shortly after we got started, I found a spot where the road had been reconstructed, and the old road was still rideable. So I stuck around until Paul and Lynn showed up (only a few minutes), and we rode up the deserted old road. This part of Skye was pretty barren, covered only by some low heather. I would guess that this area would be gorgeous in the fall when the heather is in bloom.

Along the way, we passed a small shrine to a five-year-old boy who was killed about 15 years ago. The monument gave no details, but it had a small, sad inscription: "To Our Beautiful Wee Boy". Shortly after this, we passed an abandoned caravan that had clothes and toys strewn about. I can't imagine that the two were related, but who knows?

I got to thinking about how I was going to carry all my stuff after I was no longer supported by Bespoke. It appeared that I had too much stuff to be carried by my panniers. So, I figured the way to go would be to get some bungees and strap my bulky stuff to the top of the rack, such as jackets, rain pants, etc. I figured the town of Broadford, ahead and just off the route, might be big enough to have a hardware store. So, after we reached the end of the abandoned road (and climbed over the gate which was uncharacteristically locked), I turned left as Paul and Lynn turned right. Unfortunately, it was a Sunday, and not all stores were open. So my foray into Broadford was unsuccessful. I guessed that I had to deal with this later.

So, on to the ferry. Turning around, I followed Paul and Lynn up into Glen Arroch, a much tougher climb than I had seen for a few days. Of course, since it was raining and around 55 degrees, there was no danger of me overheating! A fast and furious downhill on the other side to the Kylerhea ferry.

When I got to the ferry landing, I couldn't see the ferry at all. I wasn't entirely sure that I was in the right place. Which would have been quite a stunner if I had had to climb back out again! Then I saw Paul and Lynn climbing up the hill on the other side of the strait, and I knew I was OK. Eventually the ferry did arrive (accompanied by several seals poking their heads above the water). It was quite an unusual design. The deck swiveled around a central point, and was balanced so well that the operator and a young man (I assumed it was his son) could turn it with ease. The first one off the ferry was the owner's dog, who came off the ferry, dutifully sniffed me and the others waiting for the ferry, then sat down to await the departure. The second one off the ferry was Len Morrison, the boatman who would be carrying us to Kinloch Hourn on the next day. I didn't know it at the time. In fact, when I saw him, he was on his way to pick up our luggage at Isleornsay. I guess he does a little bit of everything to make ends meet.

Kylerhea Ferry

Well, since Paul and Lynn got a half-hour head start, I pretty much decided to spend the rest of the day on my own. I was getting hungry, and cold, and tired, so I took the opportunity when I saw a sign for the Glenelg Candle and Coffee Shop. It seemed a bit, well, pretentious, but the tea and scone were just the ticket.

Warmed up and hunger sated, I headed back down the hill to Glenelg. I had read about two brochs, or defensive towers, whose remains were just off the route. So I headed up the glen to check them out. Who should I run into, but Paul and Lynn... coming down the valley. So they told me a little about the brochs, and carried on. I headed on up the valley and found the brochs. The more distant one, called Dun Troddan, was in fair shape, with about 10-15 feet of tower remaining. I spent some time wandering about the ruins, poking my head into the nooks and crannies. It was quite a feat of engineering for its time. Heading back down the valley, I also stopped at Dun Telve, but not for as long a time.

Back on the "main route", I was treated to fabulous views up and down the Sound of Sleat, and when the rain wasn't too heavy, across the Sound to Skye. This route was excellent for cycling, since it was essentially a 20-mile dead end.

On the route to Arnisdale. Skye is to the left, Knoydart Peninsula in the center and right.

We finally hit the end of the road (literally) at the crofter's houses in the hamlet of Corran. The B & B we were staying in, had been created by joining two crofter's houses together. It wasn't as fancy as the ones we had stayed in before, or would stay in later in the trip. But it was fine, and I felt good helping these folks out. It was obvious the locals were scraping by doing whatever they could to make a few pounds.

After supper, we went for a nice walk, up into Glen Arnisdale. It was a beautiful walk, though we couldn't take all the paths that we wanted to due to the high water from the heavy rains. There were hundreds of sheep, a few cattle, and two herds of red deer totalling around 30 stags. A wonderful place to stay overnight!

June 24 - Arnisdale to Ft. Augustus

Do I even need to mention that we awoke to constant rain pounding on the windows of our B & B? We just accepted it, just like we accepted the fantastic scenery and friendly hosts. Just part of the trip... So anyway, we backtracked a mile or so to Arnisdale, to find the boat dock and our transport up Lock Hourn. We found Len easy enough, but the tide was out and our boat was sitting about five feet below the level of the dock. Thus it was quite a challenge to get our loaded bikes and ourselves down into the boat. But then we were on our way, and from the start it was obvious that Len was very experienced and we were in good hands. He talked about the hikers that he transports via his boat (there are three Munros, or 3000' peaks, right across the loch from our B&B). He pointed out an eagle aerie, and spots where seals could usually be found. Of course, none were "hauling out" on such a gloomy day. There were also isolated crofts along the loch, and an old road that was several hundred years old and was still used by the hikers.

Len Morrison, our boatman

At the far end of the loch, we put up at "Edward's Stairs", a set of stone steps that were built when King Edward visited at the turn of the 20th century. I guess Edward was a bit portly, and folks were worried that he might sink into the soft tidal zone. So they built him a stone stairway.

Back on the road, we started the stiff climb out of Kinloch Hourn. It was quite an interesting road, dipping and weaving like a shadowboxer as it negotiated boulders and cliffs.

Climbing out of Kinloch Hourne

Near the top of the ascent, I saw evidence of three different types of renewable electricity generation. 1) A wind turbine. This was a small one, probably only set up to generate enough electricity to power sensors of some sort. 2) Solar panels. Probably as a backup/compliment to the wind turbine. 3) Hydro. I passed over a sluice with a lot of water running through it, but I could not tell where it went. As I topped the rise at the end of the climb, I found the answer. The water was being directed, via tunnels, in the opposite direction into Loch Quoich. I didn't see any generators, but I guessed that this water redirection was to improve the availability of water for turbines at the dam, which was at the other end of the loch. It was curious to see, even with all the rain that had fallen in the past week, that Quoich was down about 10 feet from its normal water level. This made for a rather unattractive loch, the first one we'd seen all week.

Oh yes, did I mention rain? Well, it didn't let up until I reached the end of Loch Quoich, dropped down to Loch Garry, and passed its power plant. By this time, I had just about reached Invergarry, and I was getting hungry and cold. Found a decent cafe on the edge of town, and settled in for a long warm-up stay. Good soup, and the bread was tasty. Paul and Lynn had the same idea, and joined me after a short while. We discussed where their B&B was, since they were done for the day, and we decided to ask around. I had noticed a nice-looking place on the way into town, and it turned out to be their lodging. So I bid them farewell, since I had another 12 or so miles before I could reach Ft. Augustus.

I had a plan, which I formulated as I warmed up in the cafe. The official route had me going up onto the Great Glen Cycle Route, which was essentially a mountain bike route. This sounded too hard with my semi-loaded bike and with all the recent rains, the trails were probably muddy), so I decided to take the main route toward Ft. Augustus, and bail a couple miles later if the traffic was too heavy. I ended up taking the main route as far as Bridge of Oich, then bailed and instead used the Caledonian Canal towpath, which was nice enough. Rough, but rideable. The Bridge of Oich, by the way, is a couple hundred years old, and is one of the first suspension bridges in the world.

Bridge of Oich

The canal towpath took me right into Ft. Augustus. I decided to find my B&B and get into some dry clothes, then bike back to town for some food and maybe some touristy stuff.

I met a nice waitress at the internet cafe, and chatted with her for a while. She had a way of devoting full attention to me while we talked; it was a bit unnerving because the only time anyone had paid attention to me like that, was when they had some sort of romantic interest in me. Not a chance of that this time, but it was unnerving and pleasant at the same time.

I tried to check my mail from the cafe, but I could not establish a connection with my mail server. It turned out that someone had used my ID to hack into my service provider, and so my ID had been disabled. But of course I had no way to know this at the time.

June 25 - Ft. Augustus to Inverness

Well, my first day totally on my own. It will be an interesting change, since I won't have to worry about anyone else. Back to my usual mode of travel... My first order of business is to get up and over General Wade's Military Road. This was a significant climb, but was pretty mild compared to some of the others from the past week. While climbing, and in my own little world, another bike rider zoomed past and said hello, scaring the crap out of me. This guy was cruising up the hill, and fully loaded, too. At the top of the next rise, he stopped for a rest, so I stopped to chat. He was from The Netherlands, and he was waiting for his friend who would be along shortly. Nice guys. I committed an international faux pas, because I misread their accent and asked if they were from Germany. Oops. But they were nice about it. "Ignorant American", I'm sure they were thinking to themselves. Anyway, they were out for a camping tour of Scotland, and had been out for a few days. We parted ways and I watched with amazement as these two guys cruised effortlessly on up the hill.

The two Dutch cyclists

At the top I felt like I was in another world. Gone were the thick forests that surround Ft. Augustus, replaced by barren tundra-like terrain. I could imagine that the weather in this place would be very harsh in the winter. I also ran into the two cyclists again, just as they were about to head down the other side and into Inverness.

Loch nan Eun, above Fort Augustus

Once down the other side and back alongside Loch Ness, it was a fairly easy jaunt into Inverness. I stopped at the town of Foyers to check out their waterfalls, and to grab a bite to eat. After that, the terrain opened up and I entered a farming area along the Drumashie Moor. This area really reminded me of the Finger Lakes region of New York, obviously sculpted by glaciers. It was quite a change from the mountains of the Highlands, but beautiful in its own way.

Cycling into Inverness was a bit of a shock. I had not cycled in a major town for the entire week before, so I had to adjust my riding style to include heavy traffic. It wasn't bad, just different.

Found my B&B with no trouble. I dropped off my bike, took a nice shower, then walked down to the river area to check out the town. I dunno... I've heard many people tell me that they didn't like Inverness, and if I wanted to visit a city in Scotland, go to Edinburgh. But I liked Inverness. It had some nice shops, a couple good pubs, and had that sense of vitality that I have always admired in some cities.

Before the original group had split up, I had arranged to meet with Caroline for dinner, since she was supposed to be in Inverness for a few days. I called her B&B, and was told that she was gone and would return on a bus at 9:30 that evening. Well! After a while, I called back and found out she'd be returning at the central bus station. So I decided to meet her then. I had to go over to the train station anyway, to find out if I could catch a later train back from Wick at the end of the trip.

So, as 9:00 p.m. rolled around, I went to the train station and checked (nope, the four bike slots were still reserved on the 12:09 train from Wick), then headed over to the bus station. At 8:55, a bus rolled in with "Orkney Tours" on the side, and lo and behold, Caroline was sitting in the first seat. She was definitely surprised to see me waiting for her. We found a local pub and had supper and a pint of ale. Nice evening.

June 26 - Inverness to Cromarty

It seems like the days always fit into two categories: it starts out beautiful then turns to crud, or it starts out like crud but then clears up. Of the 10 days so far, only one day has been nice for the entire day, and only one has been lousy for the entire day. Today's would be a bit different. It started out fine, then turned to crud for a couple hours, then settled down as a fairly nice day once I got over onto the Black Isle.

The first nice part of the day occurred while I was cycling over to Culloden to visit the battlefield. I have read that this was one of the great defining moments in the history of Scotland, so I had to go see for myself. Click here for an exhaustive study of the battle and its ramifications. After a tiring morning trying to follow the Bike Route 1 signs (Bike Route 1 has been laid out and marked by Sustrans to travel from Aberdeen to John O'Groats), I finally reached the battlefield around 10:30. I wandered around the grounds for a while, until it started to pour (what else is new??). Taking shelter in the visitor center, I discovered that a guided tour was about to start. At the last minute, I decided to join them. This was a good decision, because our guide was very knowledgeable and had a very engaging style. The rain stopped for a while, but picked up again about midway through the tour, but it was never so bad as to ruin the tour.

Culloden Battlefield Guide

Tour over, I headed back to Inverness. This time I knew where I was going, so it went much more quickly. I beat it through town and over the Moray Firth bridge, sometimes having to hold on for dear life as the wind had picked up considerably!

The Black Isle (which isn't really an Isle, it's just a peninsula) represented a dramatic change in landscape from what I had been used to over the previous week. Though it was still quite hilly, most of the hills were fertile and covered with grain fields. This made for very pleasant cycling. I didn't pay as much attention as I should have though, and missed a turn. Which I didn't discover until I crested a hill only to see the Cromarty Firth in front of me. Bummer. So I rode along the firth for longer than I had planned. It was a really nice ride, as the fierce wind became a tailwind. The firth is used as a "parking lot" for oil rigs that are not in service, and due to the worldwide oil glut, there were currently 12 rigs parked here. It was quite a sight, as these rigs are very large and just don't fit in with the scenery.

I was getting quite hungry by this time, so I stopped in at the local hotel for a bite before climbing the hill to find my B&B. Again, the food was quite tasty. And again, the rain cut loose with a fury. My bike wasn't covered while I was eating, and I found it soaked when I came out after eating. Oh well... I planned for wet conditions so nothing was ruined.

Somewhere in my research for this trip, I read about some old wartime fortifications that were built on the Sutors, a pair of hills flanking the entrance to the Cromarty Firth. I asked my hosts about them, and they pointed me to a hiking trail that started in town and took me up to the South Sutor. It was a very nice hike, rising up through hardwood forests and passing old gun emplacements. From the top I got a nice view of the town and the North Sutor. But I think I overdid it. My feet were quite sore when I got back to the B&B.

Cromarty

June 27 - Cromarty to Brora

Well, the daily rain has now shifted to daily wind. Yesterday was quite windy; today started out even windier. The ferry across the Firth actually stopped operating on the previous afternoon. So I was relieved to see it coming across the Firth. This was a funky little ferry; only able to take two cars and with a fold-out entryway. Even though it was quite windy and the water had a significant chop, it was mostly a smooth ride across to Nigg. I passed the assembly plant for the oil rigs. What a huge building! And, from there, headed down to the coastline and the tri-towns of Shandwick, Balintore, and Cadboll. After passing through these quaint little seaside towns, I stumbled upon an ancient chapel (or the ruins of one). It had an interesting reproduction of a Celtic monument; I guess the original is in a museum somewhere. But the outlines of the chapel were clear in the grass, with a few stones poking out here and there. I am constantly amazed by the sheer number of ancient ruins that are in decent shape here in Scotland.

Mothballed drilling rigs

On to Tain! When I first started looking into a trip to Scotland, I of course started trying the different brands of Scotch. Until last winter, I had never tried any whiskey, let alone any single malt Scotch. Well, the first one I tried happened to be Glenmorangie. And as it so happened, Glenmorangie is distilled in Tain. Which was right on my route. A happy coincidence? I think not! Serendipity? or Fate? Whatever...

So I stopped in Tain for lunch. I had Fish & Chips. OK, I guess. They made me pay for my ketchup packets. 10p for each one. I can't think of another instance in my entire life where I had to pay for ketchup packets. Oh well... the fish was tasty.

Back on the road, I battled the increasingly hostile wind for a couple miles to the distillery. I had not planned to take the tour, since I already took the tour at the Ben Nevis distillery on Day 2. But there was a tour starting shortly, and I just said, what the hell. So I joined in with a group of Norwegians who were sailing around Scotland, and had stopped in for the tour and a day in Tain. We had a pretty cool lady showing us around. The highlight of the tour was probably when she opened up a door in the fermentation tank, and asked us to stick our nose inside. Wow, was that strong! It smelled like ammonia, though I don't really know if that was what actually burned our noses. Yowza. The tall distilling tanks are supposed to insure that only the lightest of the alcohols are distilled; the heavier alcohols condense in the tall stacks and fall back into the wash (the term they use for the fermenting liquid). I bought a sampler of the scotches they call "wood finishes", that is, whiskys that are aged in barrels that previously held port, madeira, and sherry. I already had a bottle of their 12-year single malt whisky. (Notice the difference in spelling? In the US, it is usually spelled with the "e", in Scotland it is never spelled with the "e".)

Glenmorangie Distillery (tallest distilling tanks in Scotland)

OK, a sample dram and it's back on the highway. Well, maybe I waited around the distillery for a while to make sure my head was clear before I headed back out again. It wouldn't do to be arrested for drunk cycling while on a bike tour, now would it?

Once away from town and the distillery, the road opened up and the wind really hit me in the face. It was quite an adventure crossing the Dornoch Firth, with the wind coming from the left with a vengeance. Fortunately, just after crossing the bridge, I turned to the right and the wind became a quartering tailwind. Whew... Unfortunately, this was about the time that I noticed the rear wheel had quite a wobble, and my suspicions were confirmed when I found a broken spoke. On the freewheel side, of course. D'oh! I guess this bike was not built for carrying full packs and a 190-pound rider!

OK, so I'll hobble through the rest of the day, then see what I can do with the bike this evening. The owners of the B&B said that they were cylists. Maybe they have some tools that I can borrow to fix it. Anyway, I passed through Dornoch (nice town, another on my list to visit when I can spend more time). Passed Dunrobin Castle, a much-admired and much-visited castle. But I'm not all that interested in visiting inhabited castles. It feels like I'm intruding, and I don't really have a thing for ogling other people's opulence. So I just breezed on past the castle and on to Brora. Stopped for dinner and shopping for a few snacks in town, since I knew the B&B was
out of town.

Passed another Broch along the coast. Not too much of it was left, but I must admit that its location was excellent, right on the coast. I wandered around this one for about an hour, trying to imagine what it looked like when it was at its full height of 30 or so feet. Impressive!

Got to the B&B, no worries, and very nice people. I got to watch part of an episode of the Simpsons with the host, and as luck would have it, it was the episode where Homer and Groundskeeper Willie go to Scotland to snare the Loch Ness Monster for Mr. Burns. The scene where Willie meets his parents is a hoot, and my host thought it was hysterical. Well, they were very nice people, but they didn't have any bike tools. They did, however, mention a Bike Bothy (bothy is a shack) in town, so I guess I'll head over there in the morning.

June 28 - Brora to Melvich

OK, so where is this so called Bike Bothy? Of course it involved backtracking, going back into town and following the River Brora for a few miles. But it was a pleasant ride, and the gentleman at the Bothy was really nice. I contemplated asking him if he could replace my spoke, but he looked like he was heading somewhere, so I just bought a spoke wrench from him andheaded back out onto the route.

My first destination for the day was Glen Loth, a small valley that ran inland from the hamlet of Lothbeg, rising fast up into the coastal range, then dropping down into the Strath of Kildonan. It cut about 10 miles off the length of the day's ride, but at a price: it was quite a climb over this coastal range. It wasn't a terribly steep climb, but it was relentless. I stopped several times to catch my breath and admire the stark beauty.

Glen Loth ("One of the best-kept secrets of Scotland")

The reward for all my work was a spectacular view into the Strath of Kildonan. Something was bugging me about this view, and the scenery in general for the next hour or so. I had beenhere before!

A quick drop down into the valley, and then I was spinning along the streamside. Then it occurred to me why I felt like I had been here before. This area is strikingly similar to eastern Montana and western North Dakota. No, really! The few times that I have been there, it has been in the early summer, and they had received lots of rain, so the landscape was very green. So, here in northeastern Scotland, with the rolling hills and open landscapes, and marvelous trout streams, it looked very much like Montana. Interesting...

At any rate, this was a beautiful valley. I understand that the Royal Family enjoys coming up here for holidays, and I can certainly see why.

An immediate problem for me, however, was water. I had run dry on the ride up Glen Loth. With no obvious source of water going up the valley, I asked a fisherman who was walking up the road if he had any water. He mentioned a cabin used by the fishermen just up the road, but I
was leery about walking into someone else's place without knowing anyone. So, as I rode up the valley, I saw a group of folks having a picnic and birdwatching, and I asked them if they had any water. They only had hot water for tea. I figured it would cool off soon enough, so I gratefully accepted some. And sure enough, within a half hour or so, it had cooled enough so I could drink it.

Bannock Burn

Getting hungry, I found a hotel in the crossroads of Forsinard, so I stopped for a bite to eat. Since I was the only customer, I got to chat with the proprietor. His main customers were the stalkers (hunters) who came to this valley to hunt the large stags that are abundant hereabouts (see previous picture). He told me to watch the character of the farms change once I was past the cemetery up ahead. Sure enough, the farms changed from large estates with lots of sheep, into smaller farms that varied in what they were raising. This was the boundary where the Landowners stopped evicting the crofters during the Clearings. (For a discussion of the Clearances and what they meant to the inhabitants of this area, see this Helmsdale Community web page. I stopped at a monument to the World Wars, and noticed many names with the MacKay surname. This interested me, since one of my ancestors was named Scobie, which is one of the names associated with Clan MacKay. So some of these locals may be distant relatives.

Strath Halladale

It was a beautiful day, but it didn't last. As I neared Melvich, the clouds began to thicken, and by the time I reached my B&B, it had started to drizzle. It didn't matter, since I was done for the day. It did stop later, so I went out for a walk to check out the town.

June 29 - Melvich to Finstown

Well, today would be one of those days that started out wet. Very wet. It was pouring, with a stiff breeze. Fortunately, the breeze would be a tailwind, so the weather news wasn't entirely bad. Oh well... might as well head out and get it over with. I had about 15 miles to get to Scrabster and my ferry to the Orkneys. I got there about an hour early, so I decided to go on into Thurso and get some money from an ATM. Backtracking to the ferry, I still arrived in plenty of time, but I had to wait for all the other passengers and vehicles to load before they would let me on. Notice the fog in the picture below. Though the rain had more or less stopped, it was still foggy and I wasn't entirely sure the ferry would sail. But these guys were old
pros, and I expect this weather was no big deal to them. Besides, I noticed that they have GPS navigation, so I knew we'd sail.

Easy crossing, though I was a bit chilled from my rainy morning. Looking back in retrospect, I should have changed into some dry clothes. I was hoping they would dry while I wore them, but they just made me cold.

The weather was much better upon landing at Stromness, and I was grateful. The sun wasn't quite shining, but it wasn't raining and the fog had lifted. Good enough for me!

My first impressions of the Orkney Mainland were that it was very peaceful and pastoral. Gone were the steep-walled valleys and tree farms of the Highlands; in their place were gently rolling hills and pastures. Very nice riding. I was avoiding the main road to Skara Brae, since I had read that it could be quite busy. Well, after thinking about it for a while, I realized that "quite busy" is a relative term, and I decided to go back to the main road. This turned out to be a good decision, since the main road was nearly deserted, and it had fine riding.

First views of Orkneys (Mainland)

My first archaeological visit was to Skara Brae, a 5000-year-old village located on the west coast of Mainland. The village was originally several hundred feet back away from the ocean, on the banks of a freshwater loch. Sometime around 4000 years ago, a storm covered the abandoned village with sand, which has protected it through the ages. However, sometime many years ago, the ocean broke through to the loch, turning it into a bay. And storms in the 1800's uncovered part of the village, and the rest, as they say, is history.

After Skara Brae, my next stop would be the two main sites between the lochs of Stenness and Harray, i.e. the Ring o'Brodgar and the Stones of Stenness. Both were very solemn, and both were very impressive. Why did the ancients put these stones here? Where did the stones come from? What was so important, that they would expend an estimated 20,000 man-hours of work into these structures? We will probably never know.

It was starting to get late, so I bypassed Maeshowe (an ancient burial chamber covered by a large earthen mound), though I rode by it and I could see its prominent mound out in the field. I'll catch it another day. My thoughts at the moment were to grab a snack for later (I wasn't really very hungry), and find my B&B. I couldn't find my directions to Mabel McGregor's, so I winged it. Of course, I missed the turnoff, and rode down a long hill thinking that the house was at the bottom. It wasn't, and I had to (gasp!) ask directions. The nice lady then told me those words that all touring bicyclists hate to hear: "It's back up that big hill you just came down."

But eventually, I found Ms. McGregor's, and had a very enjoyable evening talking with her about American politics vs. British and European politics. She didn't have to say much to get me started, she just asked "What do you think about that Bush character?" :-)

June 30 - Finstown to Wick

The day started off beautiful, with a slight breeze and sunny skies. Ms. McGregor even remarked that it would be nice for me to finish my tour with nice weather for a change. Little did I know...

For me, this final day on the road would be marked by a series of poor decisions. I guess I was getting close to the end of the trip, and I was getting to the point where I just wanted to finish.

Anyway, my first decision was to take the main road between Finstown and Kirkwall. Not really a terrible decision, since the main road was OK. I'm just wondering what was down the other road....

Poor decision #2 actually came a few days earlier, when I didn't get the broken spoke fixed when I was at the Bike Bothy. Maybe the wheel wouldn't have fallen apart, as it started to do on this day. I was concerned for the rest of the day that it wouldn't last until Wick.

Decision #3 came when I was passing through Kirkwall. Somehow it seemed like I could get to the St. Margaret's Hope ferry in time for its 11:30 sailing, get over to the Scotland mainland, and get to Wick by afternoon. So, I skipped an opportunity to check out St. Magnus' Cathedral, which wasbuilt by the Vikings during their occupation of the Orkneys.

Decision #4 was more or less the same as #3, except that I skipped an opportunity to visit the Highland Park Distillery. Tours started at 12:00, and I was passing through at 10:30. Couldn't wait that extra hour and a half....

Anyway, after climbing out of Kirkwall and passing on the Highland Park distillery tour, I misread the map and headed out of town on the wrong road. Of course, I didn't discover this fact until I had already ridden about five miles.

Well, because I missed the turn, there was no possible way I could make the 11:30 ferry at St. Margaret's Hope. So I decided to stop at St. Margaret's Hope, find a pub, and pass the time until the next ferry, at 5:00 p.m. But as I got there, it was only another five miles to Burwick, and I (mistakenly) thought I could find at least a snack shop at Burwick. So my last poor decision: go on to Burwick, only to find nothing but a temporary shack at the ferry terminal. D'oh!

Oh well... so I had a few hours to kill. Knowing that the Tomb of the Eagles was nearby, I checked it out. It's actually two prehistoric attractions in one. There is a stone house, which was discovered when looking for gravel to repave his driveway. Nearby is a tomb that contains eagle talons and bones (thus the nickname), which was used around 5000 years ago. Both are administered by the family who owned the farm where they were discovered. They also have a nifty hiking trail along the seacliff edge, where I saw some birds nesting.

I did make some good decisions too, such as stopping to visit the Italian Chapel. It was built byItalian prisoners of war during World War II. The British gave them two Nissen huts to join together, plus all the metal and masonry scraps they could use. The result was a loving tribute totheir religion.

Italian Chapel (built by prisoners of war)

After my side trip to the Tomb of the Eagles, and an uneventful ferry ride back to the Scottish mainland, I alit from the ferry only to find that the cloudy skies had yielded up a basketful of
rain. Cold, driving rain. Bummer. So much for having a beautiful final day... But I have to admit that the riding wasn't too bad. I was too worried about the rear wheel failing to worry about rain.I passed a couple attractions that I would have liked to check out, such as a castle or two, and the Viking Heritage Center.

Found the B&B without too much trouble, which was great considering I lost the address. The proprietress told me about a decent pub, called Carter's Bar. I got some good food, a pint of Tennant's, and had a slug of Highland Park Scotch. I overheard an interesting conversation while at Carter's. One fellow was apparently fed up with his friend, and said, "Who's the driver in this f***ing conversation, anyway?" I also met a nice couple chaps up in Scotland on a sailing trip. A nice ending to a screwed up day.

Hearty Brits in the pub

July 1 - Train to Glasgow, and flight home

Easy return to Glasgow. I got up at 5:00, ate breakfast (which my nice hostess insisted on fixing, despite the early hour), and cruised on down to the train station. After I pumped up my rear tire, which I discovered had become flat. I guess I ran over some glass or something on the wet pavement yesterday. But the tire held long enough for me to get to the train station. I found the entrance with the bike sticker (the blue sticker on the door of the train in the following picture), and put my bike on the rack provided. Then it was just a matter of settling back and enjoying the beautiful scenery, some of which I had cycled through a couple days previously.

Wick Train

I was forced to change trains twice, in Inverness and Perth. This was not a problem, except that I couldn't dally in the train station. Connections are usually just 20 minutes or so. So I pretty much had to take my bike off the train, go into the station and find the train status board, find my next train, then proceed to the right platform immediately. But, no problems since all trains were pretty much on time.

When I got to Glasgow, Bill and Ian were waiting for me on the platform. They weren't at all upset that I gave their bike back to them in such rotten shape. They were just amazed that I had biked the whole way to Wick. I expect that my weight, plus the 30+ pounds of gear, were more than the bike wheel could really handle. Like I said, I wished I could have had my bike, especially for the second week. Oh well... next time.

So, since I couldn't get the later train that I wanted, I was stuck in Glasgow for six hours or so. Bill offered a ride to the other Glasgow station, and even stuck around to make sure that they had luggage lockers so I could wander around while waiting for my train. They did, and I wandered back over to Buchanan Street and the shopping district. A bustling city, for sure.

Buchanan Street in Glasgow

Easy train ride back to London (I slept the entire way), and easy flight back to the U.S. Small snag upon arrival: thunderstorms in the area were producing lightning, and the grounds crew at RDU had called a "ground halt", which means no one was unloading our luggage from the plane. So we sat in Customs for an hour. Once the luggage was off the plane, we had to wait in line for another hour getting rescreened so that we could reenter the airport terminal area. I could certainly see why we had to wait the first time, but gee whiz, I didn't have to go back into the terminal area, so I shouldn't have had to wait to get rescreened. The only reason I had to go back that way, was because there was no alternate exit that would take me straight to the baggage carousels. Oh well... a small price to pay for security.

The only other minor occurrence was that I had to get my shoes sprayed for Foot and Mouth Disease. Could I answer "yes" to any of the following questions:

• Did I visit a farm while in the UK?
  
• Did I go on any hikes while in the UK?
  
• Did I visit any B&B's while in the UK?
  

Well, I guess I qualified, since I did all three. So I got sprayed.

Then, a quick trip on the TTA shuttle back to work, where I picked up my car and laptop, and I was really back. Bummer.....