LeJoG Day 4 - Lumps and Bumps

Peering out of the hotel window, two things were immediately apparent. Firstly that we would have a tailwind again, second that it was monsoon season in Edinburgh. We got kitted up for adverse weather, and escaped the hotel at 9:00, getting properly on the road twenty minutes later after the obligatory garage sandwich breakfast.

It has to be said that the first few miles through the outskirts of Edinburgh were remarkable for two reasons. The traffic was better behaved than I expected, and the road surfaces were the worst we would encounter all week. GPS again performed admirably, finding the cyclepath to take us traffic-free most of the way out of the city toward the Forth Bridges at South Queensferry. And very impressive they are too! The rail bridge is HUGE. You just don't get an impression of its true size from TV or photos.

Regrettably, we weren't impressed for long as we had to concentrate over South Queensferry's Paris-Roubaix style rain soaked cobbles. Once these were safely negotiated, we crossed the Forth and ground our way up into Inverkeithing in increasing rain. At the top of the hill we passed a bike shop where Ray recognised the name above the door. "Sandy Wallace's. I think they have one of Graham Obree's jerseys on the wall". We went to look. He was wrong, no Graham Obree jersey, but they did have:
1. Robert Millars 1984 KOTM PolkaDot
2. A Tom Boonen Green Jersey
3. An Eddy Merckx TdF jersey
4. Nicole Cooke's World Champion Jersey
all signed and mounted on the wall.
Our stop was all too short and, touched by greatness, we ground off into the greyness that only a true Scottish morning can provide.

Cowdenbeath was hilly, Kinross and Loch Leven pleasant and the eventual descent into Glen Farg an absolute ripper. We reached Bridge of Earn in need of food, and found the first of the day's two bakery stops. I'm now developing withdrawal symptoms from Bridies, a pastry, pasty-type concoction that is just what the tired cyclist needs. Keeping the stop short, we passed through Perth, past Scone and the Meikleour Beech Hedge to Blairgowrie, for the first official stop 97km into the day. By now it was 2:50, we were still 3 hours late, with mountains in front and a distinct sense of discomfort beneath.

The first section of the next leg was almost universally uphill as we headed up and over Glen Shee then downhill for Braemar. I was left by Ray on the climb, telling him to meet me at the top. When I got there, there was no Ray. On the basis that is was howling with wind, and really cold, I judged he'd carried on but, 4km down the climb there was still no sign of him. His phone went unanswered, and I eventually resorted to stopping one of the rare cars on this road, who confirmed he was further down. Reunited, we rolled into Braemar at 18:05 having made up over half an hour on the hilly section.

Cue fabulous Scottish hospitality. Once the lady in charge of the Hungry Highlander learned what we were up to, no protestations of ours would shift her view. We were having a full fish supper, and on the house! "We have the best fish in Scotland" said she. I'm no fish eater, but I finished mine, and if it wasn't the best in Scotland, then the best must be very good indeed. 45 minutes later, to the days first rays of sunshine, we were on our way again, heading towards the Cairngorm Snow Roads. The locals were mighty amused by this, giving us knowing smiles.

And did they ever know. When we turned for Tomintoul in Balmoral, the climbing began. And kept going. I made it up the first 20% ramp, and the hill that followed. As we crested the very top of this hill we were joined by two motorbikes on the descent who sat behind us as we descended, topping 48mph on the way down. Both riders popped their visors at the bottom and gave us a big thumbs up for leaving the brakes alone as much as possible. It was largely possible due to the improved road surface. I wonder if the fact that it was part of the (Crown owned) Glenlivet estate had anything to do with that?

Passing Corgarff Castle standing alone and isolated on the moor, we arrived at Cock Bridge to be presented with a wall of tarmac known as the Lecht. Seeing the 20% sign and the road snaking upward out of sight, I had a sense of humour failure and got off to walk. I did eventually remount, and we got to the top in time to enjoy the descent in the almost-daylight. Even after the Lecht, the climbing seemed never ending, and it was 21:45 before we arrived in Grantown on Spey, having clawed back another 54 minutes. At this point we found out that the Travelodge was overbooked, and we had been bumped into another Inverness Hotel which we then had to find in the wee small hours.

Given the propensity for the pride of Grantown's youth to be out on the street on a Thursday night, we didn't hang about long and were soon 'enjoying' the pitch black descents towards Nairn and Inverness. Midnight came, so did the customary energy failure. This was probably the worst I felt all ride. No energy and no chance of eating, the stomach wouldn't allow it. Still, at 1:40 we arrived in Inverness, but had no idea where the road we were looking for was. Then, the moment of genius. It was 1:30 on Friday morning. The clubs (if there were any) would be chucking out soon. There were bound to be taxis. There were, and a kind gentleman pointed us on our way.

We found our Hotel, the Beaufort on Culduthel Street shortly after, and were met by a gentleman who had stayed up especially to welcome us. The service we got here was brilliant. Bikes were safely stored out of the way, and we were shown up to our 3 star room. Excellent. A pity we weren't in a better state to enjoy it. One more day. 202km to go. If the suffering Human-Bicycle-Interface could take it, we were going to make it.

Day 4 - 280km with 4,325 metres of climbing in 16 hours and 50 minutes. Average speed from Lands End 21.6kmh.