Le-Jog ‘94
Lands End to John O'Groats in aid of Beaumont College, Lancaster
By Andy Creevy


The first problem with any End to End ride is getting down ( or up ) to the start and we set off mid afternoon on the Friday in Tim's Mazda 626. Taking turns to drive with several brew stops we arrived at Plymouth just before it went dark and booked in at the Youth Hostel. After a wash and brush up it was out on the town for a drink or two and an Indian (a treat from Tim). Just as we left the Indian Restaurant Tim noticed a sign offering 10% discount for students, nurses etc. True to form Tim (Yorkshire born) turned and marched back in for his 10% refund !

Day 1 Saturday 30/04/94 Penzance to Golant


With the prospect of a long drive back to Lancaster on his own we decided to save Tim the extra four hours driving to Lands End and then back to Plymouth by catching the train to Penzance and cycling the 10 miles to the tip of England. It was at Plymouth Station where, while we took some photos, I must have put the bag containing my money and cash cards in Tim's car. We waved Tim off and as he turned the corner at the end of the road I discovered I had only £2-75 in my back pocket. Fortunately Bob had enough cash to last us both till we reached Lancaster.

The second disaster of the day arrived at the booking office when we found the train we intended travelling on did not have room for our bikes so we had to wait two hours for the next one and consequently did not arrive in Penzance till one O'clock.

The shortish ride to Lands End from Penzance took in some "lumpy bits", but we hardly noticed them in our excitement to reach the start. As we neared Lands End the blazing sun was replaced by a cool, thick mist rolling in from the Atlantic but we had no trouble finding the famous signpost. At the post we posed for the "official" photograph with the words "Beaumont College 447 miles" above our heads. Afterwards we signed the end to end book, had some traditional Cornish grub and set off, at three pm., next stop Golant, near St. Austell. However, the hills we hardly noticed on the way to Lands End we certainly felt on the road to Golant with a brisk headwind added for good measure. We grovelled (or should that read I ) up the long drags, some up to two miles long, although the scenery more than made up for the sore legs. We travelled up the A394, A39 and A390 through Helston, Truro and St. Austell and our reward for the long climbs were some truly breathtaking descents, real Sean Yates stuff, chin on bars etc. It was on the last of these descents, just past St. Austell were we turned off the A390 heading for Fowey and Golant, that I scored our third mishap of the day with a front wheel blowout on a rough patch of road. A lengthy tube change, due to a very well fitting 20mm tyre, and only averaging 13.2 mph for the day made us an hour and a half late when we finally arrived at Golant just as dusk fell. Although we had missed the evening meal some had been saved for us and we readily refuelled washed down with canned beer ( in a Youth Hostel !!). Our only complaint with Golant was our dormitory seemed to be up in the attic which did not agree very well with our tired legs.

Todays mileage 70m. Max. speed 42 m.p.h. Ave. speed 13.2 m.p.h.
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Day 2 Sunday 01/05/94 Golant to Exeter


We discovered a new means of navigation today. First find the hilliest road, preferably into a 60 MPH headwind, and grovel to the next cafe. The mornings ride took us from Golant through Liskeard and on to Tavistock for lunch. There were some hills on the way but not insurmountable but we knew worse was to come in the afternoon.

Bob directed us out of Tavistock on the wrong road which meant a slight detour from Mary Tavy through Peter Tavy to get back onto the Dartmoor Road. This detour went up a bitch of a climb of 1 in 5 for half a mile levelling out on the main road to 1 in 10 for about two miles. I soon began to realise that my 47 inch bottom gear was hurting with my laden steed. Bob saw me off on every climb although (probably due to a lack of common sense) I descend like a stone so we evened out eventually.

The scenery around Dartmoor is not unlike the North of England and we likened the hills to our own Trough of Bowland although it was ten degrees warmer. The sun that blazed throughout the journey was at it's fiercest on Dartmoor at around 70 degrees and we are both sunburnt and sore. We passed the famous Dartmoor Hilton (sic) and some bloke running, who kept overtaking me on the climbs. Once over the bleak bit we began the descent and I spotted a shop at Postbridge that seemed to sell everything from fruit to petrol. I considered asking for a Shimano fixed cup tool but thought better of it because they probably had one! We stopped for a cuppa and a mars bar and did some professional observation on a family close by who were in dire need of some family therapy, but we were off duty so we pedalled on to Exeter.

We came down off the moor at Mortonhamstead and Bob decided that the shortest route to Exeter would be on a road sign-posted "Unsuitable for large vehicles" which translates as "Bloody Steep!" I struggled up the 1 in 6 hill knowing that it was probably the last before Exeter and it was thankfully. We eventually found the Youth Hostel at around 7.45pm. Unfortunately we had to walk for half an hour down a dark, rough cinder track, with me wearing flip flops as I was travelling light, to find some food. The walk was worth it though and I can heartily recommend the Feta Cheese and Spinach Pie from the Double Lock pub. we slept soundly!

Todays mileage 70m. Total 140m. Max. speed 47 m.p.h. Ave. speed 12.2 m.p.h.
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Day 3 Monday 02/05/94 Exeter to Bristol


Today was the longest in terms of mileage (so far) but it was very much a recovery ride for us. We headed out of Exeter on the A30 where the steady stream of Bank Holiday traffic kept us in single file and our speed high despite a couple of long drags. We passed a showroom selling imported Porche 956's and I coveted a 1959 Speedster in silver, race prepared, but the price on the windscreen soon saw off my fantasy. We stopped a little further down the road at Honitin where we first heard of the death of Aryton Senna. I must admit that I felt a tremendous emptiness inside, although I was never a great fan of him, his achievements were remarkable and he was still a young man.

After a brief stop at Honiton we crossed into the county of Somerset and onto the B3170. It was onto the big ring and two up riding at 25mph+ and then near Taunton we went down the most tremendous descent. We did not feel as though we earned it as we had not climbed anything but it seemed to go on for miles. A short while later near Bridgewater we stopped on the road and sat in somebody's back garden and had Somerset Cream Tea's. It was back to the hills a short while later as we climbed towards Cheddar Gorge. I found the wheel of a local club rider and we climbed together past long traffic jams of cars leaving Weston-Super-Mare. I thought how well I was going until I read his H.R.M. which read 130bpm while mine was about 50 beats quicker but somehow I managed to beat Bob to the top. (probably the first and only time !)

On the descent into Bristol we caught up an old chap with "Nortonesque" calf muscles (Varicose !) and asked him for directions to the YH. He gave us the benefits of his knowledge and then tore off on his three speed Viking blowing us both off his wheel.

We arrived at Bristol YH, which is a huge converted dockside warehouse, at 6pm. I was feeling quite unwell, probably dehydration and a bit of sun-stroke, so after a "plastic" evening meal (which we forgot to pay for) we crossed the road to a local hostelry to rehydrate with a couple of lagers (on prescription).

On our return to the hostel I attempted to intimidate a gang of kids who were watching the world snooker final when there was a program about Boardman & Obree on the other side. I eventually succeeded without resorting to blood shed and gained some inspiration from Chris & Graeme.

Todays mileage 84.6m. Total 226.4m. Max. speed 41 m.p.h. Ave. speed 12.8 m.p.h.
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Day 4 Tuesday 03/05/94 Bristol to Shrewsbury


Today proved to be a very eventful day for many reasons. The temperature as we left Bristol was quite a lot cooler and we at last found the "prevailing wind" that we had heard so much about which put us ahead of schedule. We skirted Bristol on the dock road through Avonmouth and crossed the huge Severn suspension bridge. We marvelled at the engineering involved and felt the bridge move under our wheels. Bob found a nut which he kept as a souvenir (probably a vital piece of the bridge) so if the bridge tumbles it wasn't me your honour !

We then crossed into Welsh Wales, through Chepstow and into the Wye Valley. Passing Tintern Abbey the rain that had been threatening all morning started and we donned our capes. (You know those things with the non stick surface that doesn't slow you down when you hit the deck.)

With about 28 miles covered we were storming along a freshly tarmac'd road at around 30m.p.h., discussing the merits of sprint stars Abdujaparov and Mario Cipolini, when my front wheel went AWOL as it bounced off a broken branch on the road and sent me skidding along the tarmac for several yards. A crash that Abdu would have been proud of on the Champs Elleyses. I felt my head bounce off the road and then batted tarmac-wards again by Bob's passing pannier. I eventually came to a halt and lay there assessing the damage to my skull and checking for broken bones with cars skidding to a halt all around me and their occupants rushing to my aid. It must have looked quite spectacular from their metal cocoons.

I was amazed that I had escaped relatively serious injuries and the bike only had a scuffed rim and a torn tyre while Bob's only damage was a broken LOOK cleat. A lump had appeared on the top of my head like something from a Tom & Jerry cartoon. Bob repaired my bike and sent me off up the road to check frame & forks. I thought Bob was following behind so I rode the four miles down to Monmouth and waited.... and waited.... Apparently Bob was still at the scene of the tumble awaiting my return and hadn't noticed which direction I had set off in. He had packed up his tools and ridden a mile or so in each direction looking for me and even flagged down some passing motorist to ask if they had seen me on the road to Monmouth with no joy. I remember I had gone off the road to be sick and that was when they must have passed. Bob eventually followed on to Monmouth already deciding what he was going to tell the Police and how he was going to break the news to Elaine that I was lost somewhere in Wales with severe concussion, probably amnesia, very little money and no identification etc. He seemed quite relieved when he found me sitting on the bridge eating a Mars bar ! It was while I was sat there I swear I saw Gordon Banks, the ex-England goalie drive past, or was I concussed !

We stopped briefly at Monmouth for lunch and then set off up the A466 to Hereford to meet Bob's wife Jannette. As we left the town I noticed that sign again saying "Unsuitable for large vehicles" (ie. "Bloody Steep"). I wasn't feeling very well by this time and dispatched my lunch on the road side but anyway the rain had passed and the weather was improving which helped my spirits. I kept taking fluids and glucose tablets and somehow managed to grovel into Hereford where I went into commuter mode in the traffic and lost Bob for the second time that day.

Hereford was resplendent at that time of the year and a travelling fair had hit town. We slalomed our way around the rides and found a bike shop where they didn't even know what LOOK plates were. The shopkeeper did however recommend a cafe across the street so we went to refill the fuel tanks.

We left Hereford and met Jann a few miles down the A49 and she took most of our bags on to Shrewsbury. With the lightened load we averaged evens for the 50 miles along the A49, through Leominster, Ludlow and Church Stretton, to our evenings destination. I rode my first century at Church Stretton - it was a great feeling to reach this milestone and I felt like a batsman scoring his first ton - and it was with renewed vigour I set the pace into Shrewsbury and on to the Youth Hostel where Jannette had already prepared our evening meal of Coq au Vin and Strawberry gateaux. It was very much appreciated, nearly as much as the larger in the pub down the road later on.

Todays mileage 114.4m. Total 340.8m. Max. speed 49 m.p.h. Ave. speed 13.9 m.p.h.
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Day 5 Wednesday 04/05/94 Shrewsbury to Lancaster


I woke up today feeling the after effects of my meeting with tarmac the previous day, my neck was stiff and sore, so we decided to try and make it to Lancaster in one go giving us a day off tomorrow and a chance for me to get my wounds checked over.

During todays ride we would ride through five counties, from the green and pleasant Shropshire and Cheshire to the grim Wigan and Warrington. Jann again took the luggage in the car and after shopping in Shrewsbury she caught us up for lunch at a transport cafe near the M56. This was just after we had stopped for a photocall at the famous “Willy Farm”.

The miles passed quickly today and we hardly had time to admire the scenery as we just put our heads down and cranked the pedals on the A49 then onto the more Familiar A6 through Chorley and Preston. As we neared Lancaster the drizzle started so we knew we were close to home ! We took our last short stop at Brock to see if any of our lads were riding the “10” and the timekeeper asked us if we would like to ride ! We beat a hasty retreat and arrived at Dalton Square at 8.30pm.

Todays mileage 104m. Total 444.8m. Max. speed 35 m.p.h. Ave. speed 13.9 m.p.h.
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Day 7 Friday 06/05/94 Lancaster to Carlisle


After the rest day yesterday, which I spent mainly in A & E Dept. at the hospital, my neck is much better than on Wednesday and I feel raring to go. We arranged to meet at Dalton Square and there was quite a small crowd, including Elaine & Tom and Jannette & Matthew, to see us off on the second half of our trip. After several photocalls and goodbyes we set off with a fair old peleton consisting of me & Bob along with Stephen Booth (my boss from work), Bob's son Matthew, Peter Donnelly from LCC and Bob's mate Gordon from Liverpool for company.

We wound our way around the back streets, no point in tackling the infamous one way system, and headed for the A6 northwards to Kendal. With only two miles covered we made a brief stop at Beaumont College where all the staff and students were at the gate to cheer and wave us on. I must confess to being very moved by the support and gained lots of inspiration for the remainder of the ride. We bade farewell to Stephen as he turned right up to Old Hutton to return to work and the remaining five of us continued to Kendal for elevenses. We stopped in a really posh gaff, not at all a C.T.C. cafe, recommended by Bob and had toasted tea-cakes and hot chocolate. The owner there was very interested in our exploits and pledged £5 support.

After we left Kendal we hit Donnelly country and the notorious climb over Shap which, although it was the highest point of the ride so far, was a doddle compared to Dartmoor. Matthew set off after Peter like Bahomontes with Bob struggling to keep his wheel while Gordon and I set our own pace to the summit knowing we are superior descenders. (Peter has a habit of braking and melting the blocks on descents)

We stopped at Shap chippy, where Peter is such a regular he has his own chair, for lunch and feasted on fish and chips. We said farewell to the rest of the lads here and Bob and I continued up the A6 to Carlisle. Just outside Carlisle we saw a sign for Scalescough Hall which is a residential home for people with C.P. As we were well ahead of schedule I persuaded Bob that we might scrounge a brew if we explained what we were doing so reluctantly he followed me along the drive. I knocked on the door and we were greeted by one of the care staff and after some short explanation we were shown into the staff dining room and furnished with a huge pot of tea and a plate full of cakes. I somehow doubted I was going to loose any weight on the trip at this point as I tucked in. The lady who greeted us gave us a little background on the house and it's plans for the future and she even gave us a contribution towards the fund.

We continued the last couple of miles into Carlisle, did a few laps of the city centre when we got lost, and eventually made our way to T.H.F. Hotel on the northern outskirts. This was a night of luxury, with our own separate en-suite bedrooms, showers, phones and colour TV.'s. We rubbed shoulders in the bar with Colchester F.C. players, who were playing at Brunton Park the following day, then strolled down the road to a local for a few beers and another huge meal before retiring to the luxury of our rooms for a sound nights sleep.

Todays mileage 77.5m. Total 522.3m. Max. speed 50 m.p.h. Ave. speed 13.9 m.p.h.
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Day 8 Saturday 07/05/94 Carlisle to Glasgow


I was awakened by the phone this morning at around 8am, it was Elaine, who was calling to ask how I was. It was good to hear a familiar voice first thing, quite a change from Youth Hostel racket. After a Forte Breakfast we commenced the journey - next stop Bonny Scotland. I had remembered just how boring the main road to Glasgow was so we took a slight detour to Gretna, did the tourist thing, bought some postcards and continued to Lockerbie where we stopped for lunch. I ordered Welsh Rarebit (in Scotland !) and the customary sticky cake. As we sat in the cafe we observed that there seemed to be more Americans than Scots around but this must be an aftermath of the dreadful plane crash some years ago.

I suppose it was inevitable that we ended up on the A74, parts of which are soon to be classed as Motorway. We did, in fact, ride for a bit on the hard shoulder, around contractors plant and even in contraflows. It was around here that Bob had his first puncture of the trip (and about time too !!). We caught up with four MTB's who we had seen in Gretna earlier in the day and slowed down for a natter. They were all members of a brass band from Market Harborough and were also doing the End to End to raise money for their local hospital. I had tremendous respect for them because they were not cyclists, by definition not clubmen, and they were pedalling some very hefty ironmongery with tractor tyres. They did however have the luxury of a support van (which had got lost !) carrying supplies so I suppose we had one up on them. We left the A74 shortly and stopped for a coffee at Crawford after which we got caught in an unbelievable hailstorm at Abingdon, there was no shelter for miles and hailstones the size of golf-balls battered us.

Soaked and freezing we set off up the old A74 but things improved rapidly as the sun came out and the wind became a tailwind. All the cars were on the new upgraded A74 and we had the old dual carriageway to ourselves. We stormed northwards at over 20mph uphill and nearer 30mph on the flat. (I love this prevailing wind !)

As we neared Glasgow I couldn't believe the size of the place. Much bigger than I remembered. We passed through East Kilbride, Motherwell, Hamilton and came down through Rutherglen. Some lads were just coming home from the Rangers match and were taking the mickey out of us, I'm glad I didn't have my pink shorts on ! Glasgow cabbies have a law of their own. One pulled out in front of Bob, he hit the anchors, I hit his back wheel and my chamois (and it's contents) hit my stem. Eyes watering and in a falsetto I suggested we continue before the natives caught us.

We stayed at the home of Tom & Yvonne Duncan (who had contacted us in response to a request in the CTC mag.) at Jordan Hill north of the Clyde. They were a smashing couple and fed us the biggest curry I've ever seen. Tom and I stayed up late to watch Everton scraping survival in the Premier League so I slept with a broad grin from ear to ear.

Todays mileage 101.7m. Total 624m. Max. speed 40 m.p.h. Ave. speed 14.2 m.p.h.
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Day 9 Sunday 08/05/94 Glasgow to Fort William


I woke up this morning after probably the best nights sleep of the trip so far. Tom, Yvonne and Bob had already began breakfast so I joined them. My food consumption throughout the ride had steadily increased and I could literally not be full at this stage, I ate everthing that was offered but the waistline had definitely diminished.

Tom decided to come part of the way as we left Glasgow. The sun shone and there was very little wind as we meandered north/north westwards. It was quite remarkable how the scenery changed by the minute and the hills came into view. Near Loch Lomond Tom suggested that Bob and I should drop him but we were in fact struggling to keep up his hot pace. (Mind you he hadn't done 624 miles in seven days of riding.) Tom's plan was to meet Yvonne at Baloch so we said goodbye at the roundabout on the A82 and promised to write and tell him about the rest of the trip.

We were now in Robert Millar country although I wondered how R.M. became such a prolific Grimpeur as the canny Scots built all the roads in the valleys as a rule and the climbs were fairly easy. On the banks of Loch Lomomd we spotted a cycling caff and made a bee-line, one of the blokes recommended the cake table and we joined him out in the sun with a plate full of carbohydrates. He told us that he had taken a small group of "novice" bikies out on a sponsored ride and shortly they joined us, three girls ! One of them said his reward was to apply the germolene to her saddle sores when they made it back (jammy get) while another of them offered us some surplus food they had brought, chicken and brown sauce sandwiches, in case we were hungry later. (I did say I'd eat anything offered !) They even made a contribution of a few pounds towards the "DUET" fund. I was pleased to have made their acquaintance because people like them are priceless, God bless 'em.

We continued our way along the bonny, bonny banks etc. The scenery was spectacular. There was the remnants of winter remaining with snowy peaks and bits of cars strewn on the sides of the road. We took lots of pictures as we went along but I'm sure the sights have etched my memory forever. Bob had been this way once before and assured me the best was yet to come and he was not wrong ! I thought how different it all was, we were used to the lakes and hills in Cumbria, which are a joy to behold, but I really began to fall in love with the Highlands which are similar but on a much grander scale. We climbed the road to Ranoch Moor, which was a longish pull to the summit, and once over the summit we descended into Glencoe scene of the infamous massacre in 1692 when members of the Macdonald clan were ambushed and killed. The road seemed to be full of tourists with caravans and we had to keep our wits about us as some people don't seem to realise how wide their vans are and I nearly came a cropper once or twice. It was in Glencoe that we ate the aforementioned sandwiches, they were wonderful !

After Glencoe we gained our second wind and steadily increased our pace to training level 2 stuff, we stormed along the banks of Loch Linnhe which reminded Bob of the Barachi Trophy 2-up time trial on Lake Como in Italy. We reached Fort William just after tea so we treated ourselves to Haggis, Tatties and Neeps in a local restaurant before spending the night in the shadow of Ben Nevis at Glen Nevis S.Y.H.A.

Todays mileage 104m. Total 728m. Max. speed 40 m.p.h. Ave. speed 14.5 m.p.h.
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Day 10 Monday 09/05/94 Fort William to Inverness


We had to make our own breakfast this morning as the S.Y.H.A. are all self catering. We knew, however, that we only had three more days left with none above 75 miles so we took our time and set off from Glen Nevis at well past ten O'clock. With the mighty Ben above us we soon got up a good head of steam as we continued northwards. We had talked to a Scottish bikie at the hostel who had told us of two routes around Loch Ness but we stayed cautious, following the main drag past Loch Lochy and Loch Oich until we reached Fort Augustus for lunch. Again following the healthy, fibre rich, diet I ate two pies, chips and a sticky cake. As we looked around Fort Augustus I felt for the first time like a cycle tourist, we had all the time in the world to absorb the scenery, the hills, the lochs and the small villages as continued on our way. The sun shone brilliantly as we kept up the pace, by this time our fitness had increased so we hardly noticed the small drags on the road beside Loch Ness. We stopped to sunbathe near a pumping station, camera ready in case we saw Nessie. I was amazed just how big Loch Ness is. It seemed to take ages to reach Urquhart, the half way point, and Drumnadrochit where the tourist is bombarded with Monstermania. We didn't hang around long as I'd seen enough monsters, the sun doesn't half bring 'em out !

We made steady progress into Inverness, arriving mid-afternoon, so we did a little shopping before setting off up the hill to the Y.H. The place was crammed with Antipodeans. I insulted one guy by suggesting he may be Australian when in fact he was a Kiwi. I reckon he could have a job with the N.Z. Tourist Board, I nearly emigrated. When we walked down into town for the evening for a pizza and some amber nectar even the pubs were full of Aussies, I thought we'd walked into the "Watering Hole" at Lassaters !

Todays mileage 69m. Total 797m. Ave. speed 14.8 m.p.h.
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Day 11 Tuesday 10/05/94 Inverness to Helmsdale


We again took things easy today. First port of call was a bike shop in Inverness (the last one before we reached Jonh O'Groats ?) as Bob needed a new tyre and he also bought some bargain "denim" look shorts. We headed north easterly out of Inverness, into a wind that was definitely south westerly, and over the bridge across the Moray Firth. Bob was riding stronger than myself into the wind so I took his wheel for long periods. Every so often we came across road signs to John O'Groats so at last we knew we were getting near to our goal. Up a long drag over the Black Isle and then down to the bridge over Cromarty Firth we were greeted with what appeared to be oil rigs in a line the length of the Firth. A real eyesore.

We stopped at Tain, about half way, for lunch. Tain is a quiet little town with lovely views across the Dornoch Firth. We didn't have any accommodation booked ahead for the night so we wondered wether to stop for the night at Bora or continue to Helmsdale but we opted for the latter. After leaving Tain the wind seemed to be with us for a while as we headed north west around the Dornoch Firth but we knew it wouldn't last and sure enough, once over Bonar Bridge, bang just like riding into a brick wall. Bob had this annoying habit, almost from day one, of sprinting for town signs and as he sprinted past the sign of The Mound, leading about 20 - 0 at this point, I thought "Right I'll get him at J.O.G."

The weather became quite cloudy and cool as we progressed towards Helmsdale and we had to don some extra layers. Bob took the sprint into Helmsdale to secure the green points jersey but I'm sure I'll take the yellow jersey.

Helmsdale is a very strange place. I thought if Scotland is ever constipated I know where the enemas will be going. The Y.H. was closed for the winter (?) so we looked for B&B. Eventually an elderly lady telephoned her friend who offered to put us up for the night. The accents up in this neck of the woods weren't too difficult to understand - sort of a cross between Miss Jean Brodie and Dag Otto Lauritzen. We visited the nearest hostelry for burgers and chips. Bob ordered a kitchensink burger which contained cheese, egg, bacon, some unrecognisable things and a beefburger. The man behind the bar had obviously failed C.S.E. maths and only charged us both half price, and it's said the Scots are tight ! We decided to visit the other two pubs in Helmsdale, purely for research purposes - The first was a bit like a youth club, the man behind the bar played Bjork tapes and played board games with two teenagers. We drank up and left ! Next we visited the Banockburn and were only in there a few minutes when this Scotsman staggered in, ordered a double Black Label in a tall glass topped up with Irn Bru (?) and ordered a drink for everybody in the pub. (about six of us) He explained he was a businessman from Glasgow and was enquiring if he would make it to Wick that evening. Outside was a Mercedes 500 SEL with personalised plates. I wondered if we would see the wreckage the next day ?

Todays mileage 76.2m. Total 873.2m. Ave. speed 14.6 m.p.h.
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Day 12 Wednesday 11/05/94 Helmsdale to John O'Groats


The last stage today. I think Bob and I are both looking forward to finishing. We ate a very hearty breakfast, courtesy of our hostess, and boy did we need it ! As soon as we set off we turned left at the end of the street and the road went vertical. We never even had time to loosen up. The climb seemed to go on forever - around hairpin bends, coves and over cliffs - it had more corners than L'Alpe D'Huez and was probably as steep. Ten tortuous miles. Bob even overtook a lorry that was only just making it ! When we eventually reached the summit we expected a ten mile descent but it wasn't to be, the road just levelled out. We passed through Latheron on our way to Wick expecting Jannette and Elaine to pass us any minute as they were driving up to see us finish at J.O.G. but we arrived at Wick before them and had lunch in a snack bar on the main street with the bikes quite visibly parked outside so they wouldn't sail past. Still no signs of the girls we set off with the wind at our backs. A few miles were livened up by a couple of M.T.B.'s who thought they could drop us but we showed them otherwise. We kept stopping for long mars bar breaks hoping the girls would catch us but they eventually appeared just when we had given up hope about two miles short of the finish. Apparently someone had locked the keys in the car and they had to wait for the AA to get it open. We greeted them and I dispensed with some luggage before we rode off after them to J.O.G.

As the sign for John O'Groats loomed into view Bob didn't notice me slip the chain onto the big ring. We looked at each other then began to sprint. It seemed like miles to the sign and I noticed my speed reach 34 m.p.h. as I crossed the "line" just ahead of Bob but a clear winner nonetheless.. That brought the final score to something like 30 -1 (ball park figure !)

We congratulated each other and Jann and Elaine hugged us. We made It !! After posing for more pictures at the sign post we signed our names in the End to End book (just after the four lads from Market Harborough) and sat down for coffee and cakes. If I am totally honest the end was a bit of an anti-climax really. I don't know what I expected - trumpets or something - but it is only on reflection that I feel a sense of achievement like when I finished my first marathon ten years ago. At the time the only thing to do was to load the bikes onto the car and start the long journey home but I know I can tell my son Tom when he grows up about the time I rode from Lands End to John O'Groats. On the return journey we discussed the next challenge............

Todays mileage 54.2m. Total 927.4m. Ave. speed 14.5 m.p.h.
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