Mud Sweat and Gears

Mud, Sweat and Gears, the story of my Lejog ride is published by Summersdale





‘Ellie Bennett is funny, she can talk the rear wheel off a Dawes three-speed and she loves a decent pint. I’d tag along with her any day’ Oz Clarke

‘great fun and surprisingly informative’ Mark Beaumont, author of The Man Who Cycled the World

‘Ellie Bennett takes on the End-to-End with plentiful supplies of humour and beer' Josie Dew

Synopsis

As Ellie’s fiftieth birthday approaches and her ambitions of a steady income, a successful career and an ascent of Everest seem as far away as ever, she begins to doubt she’s capable of achieving anything at all. So when her best friend Mick suggests a gruelling cycle ride from Land’s End to John o’Groats, she takes up the challenge.

They opt for the scenic route which takes them along cycle paths, towpaths and the back roads and byways of Britain, unable to resist sampling local beers in the pubs they pass along the way. But as the pints start to stack up faster than the miles they’re putting under their tyres, Ellie wonders if they’ll ever make it to the finishing line…

Day Twenty Eight - Going Home

Well that's it. Today we head south - St Margaret's Hope,South Ronaldsay this evening for a birthday meal and tomorrow onto the mainland for the cycle ride back to Inverness and the plane home. It's been a fantastic journey. Thanks for reading, and if you are thinking of doing the Lejog yourself - go on - do it - and I hope you enjoy it as much as we did.

Ellie. x

Day Twenty Seven – Kirkwall

Having decided we would definitely do nothing today (and after consuming rather too many beers in Helgi’s last night) I didn’t wake up until gone ten, when the shrieks from the playing field finally penetrated my alcohol-induced stupor. Mick was still giving it zeds, snoring away contentedly, so I crept out of the tent and, after some luxurious ablutions in the washblock, I wandered up to the cafe at the leisure centre next door.

Relaxing in an armchair with my third pot of tea and a newspaper, I reflected that Mick had been right to insist he was not doing anything today. My problem is I’m always worried I’ll miss something, that when we get home someone will say: ‘Oh didn’t you see such-and-such, it’s the best thing in Scotland!’ 

Stats:
Miles cycled: 0
Beers: 2
Cups of Coffee: 5
Cups of Tea: 10
Paper’s read: 4
:-)

Day Twenty Six – Round Orkney

Today was supposed to be another day of rest and recuperation – but no, I had to go and plan a 40 mile round trip of the western part of the Mainland.  The day started well, although it was noticeably colder and (key point) windier than the previous day.  We headed via Scapa village down the coast to Stromness. We had a pleasant hour after lunching in a cafe, mooching up the street.  There were plenty of blue plaques indicating houses of interest. Suddenly we realised it was gone three o’clock and we were barely a quarter the way around our planned itinerary.  We continued up the coast to Yesnaby, where magnificent cliffs plunged into the sea. But by now the wind was whipping up and it was gone five o’clock.  We were not, I realised, going to get to Scara Brae today.  Instead we headed for the Ring of Brodgar, an impressive Neolithic stone circle. 









Stats
Miles: 46
Total miles:1168
Beers: 5 (too many)

Day Twenty Five - Kirkwall

By now our clothes were in a pretty disgusting state, so we were grateful that the camp site had such good facilities, including a laundry room and washing machine.  The afternoon we devoted to sightseeing including the magnificent St Magnus Cathedral and the Highland Park distillery. 

Day Twenty Four - John O'Groats to Kirkwall

We caught the ferry from John O'Groats to Orkney.

Hoy rose to our left, it was a shame that the Old Man was hidden from view coming this way, but the view of the islands was magnificent.




The ride to Kirkwall was mainly very enjoyable though with plenty of interest on the way. We stopped at St Margaret's Hope for a coffee and some delicious cheesecake.

The Italian Chapel, a Nissen hut decorated by Italian prisoners of war was impressive, as was the wine at the Orkney Wine Shop next door.

We had a panic in Kirkwall as all the pubs looked dire. But then we found Helgis on the front by the harbour, a bar with a Nordic theme, which served a lovely pint of Scapa Special from the Highland Brewing Company. This cheered us up immensely. And when we saw how excellent the facilities were at the Pickaquoy campsite we decided to make this a base camp for a few days. Tomorrow would be a rest/washing day both of which were long overdue.

Stats
Miles: 26
Total miles: 1122
Pints of beer: 3

Day Twenty Three – Melvich to John O’ Groats

Sunshine and blue sky for our last final push across the top to JOG – fantastic.

Dounreay is now a nuclear storage facility, having been decommissioned in the nineties, and looked an eyesore on the lovely coastline.
Into Thurso which, being Sunday, was pretty much shut.  But the Pentland Hotel was open for Sunday lunch. 
We liked Thurso – wide streets and attractive buildings.  But we must get on – only eighteen miles to go. A quick glance at emails and so forth and we were off again.
At Dunnet we swung left onto the road up to the headland of Dunnet Head, the northernmost point on the British Mainland. 


Well –it was only five miles each way and it seemed a shame not to.  It was worth it – glorious views across the Pentland Firth to the Island of Stroma and beyond, Hoy and the rest of the Orkney Islands.  Stroma apparently used to have quite a large population but they have all left now and the island appears to be uninhabited. 

I perked up as we finally cycled into John O’Groats at six o’clock.  We cycled in together as we wanted to cross the line at the same time.  We crossed the line together and we gave ourselves a big pat on the back before repairing to the Seaview Hotel.

One thousand and ninety seven miles.An excellent adventure.& Tomorrow we would be heading off to Orkney for a well earned rest.

Stats

Miles: 45

Beers: Three bottles Orkney Ale

Day Twenty Two – Dornoch Firth Bridge to Melvich

The stretch up the A9 to Helmsdale was not as bad as I expected.  The road was not too busy,we had lovely views of the North Sea and the road was quite scenic.We took a quick pic at our 1000 mile mark. Although we got the odd shower they were sporadic and therefore not too much of a problem. At Helmsdale we had a major decision –go up the minor road to Melvich – no violent hills but remote and committing, it would mean definitely another forty miles on top of the thirty we had done, or stick on the A9, some fearsome hills but a shorter route and with more options for pulling in for the night.  We went for the Melvich option and set off, with a little trepidation.  I am glad we did – the road up the Strath of Kildonan was beautiful, following the river and with gentle climbs up.


Stats: Miles 73

Beers: 2

Route here

Day Twenty One – Loch Ness to Dornoch Firth Bridge

It took a bit of an effort to get going again, especially as within half an hour the heavens opened and we had another torrential downpour.  We stood under a a tree and stared disconsolately at the the rain. 
We had a major change in route planned as we had, due to all the rain slowing us up, abandoned the plan to go via Ullapool. The mission now was simply to arrive without drowning. But we were making slow progress, by half past one we had only just made Drumnadrodrochit, barely eleven miles from the hostel. We went into the tourist information office there. Unfortunately the bike shop, like so many things, had been regulated out of business, but she helpfully found the details for one in Dingwall, thirty miles or so away.  We made a split second decision to head for Dingwall rather than Inverness and set off. 

She had warned us there was “a bit of an up” on the way out and the guidebook also mentioned a “punchy climb”.  Punchy it was. Mercifully at the the top there was about twenty miles of downhill and then flat fast roads. 

We got to Dingwall before closing time, and found the bike shop.  They were very helpful and pumped extra air in our tyres for us.  We purchased new brake blocks and then set off on the last twenty mile mission for that day,heading for Tain.  A local in Tain told us of a site a couple of miles up the road.  Sure enough just before the Dornoch Firth Bridge there was a campsite and pub next door. Three other -End-to_Enders arrived at the same time.  We were a bit crestfallen to discover they had set off from Lands End on the same day we had set off from Dumfries, they planned to complete the whole thing in eight days. But, we reminded ourselves, we were touring,not racing, it was a different thing altogether. The landlord did us proud with a great meal and said if we came over in the morning he would do us breakfast as well.  Sadly no real ale so we managed to swallow a few pints of Tetley (not sure what that was doing all up here) and a couple of single malt nightcaps before crawling into our little tent for the night. 

Stats:
Miles 62

Beers Each: 3

Route here

Day Twenty – Glen Nevis to Loch Ness

For sale: one very muddy Dawes ladies touring bike together with panniers.  Will exchange for comfortable sofa (any colour) and widescreen TV. 
The day started relatively well.  It didn’t rain for the first ten whole minutes of our ride.   We thought the weather might be on the up at last.  But barely had we left the outskirts of Fort William when the heavens opened and we were – once again – soaked.  The eight hours our kit had spent in the drying room last night was wasted, it was as wet as when we had put it in there the night before.



Then came the first mistake of the day.  We decided to follow the Caledonian Canal towpath for a while. As those of you who have read this blog for a while will know, we have a fondness for canals. 

However on this occasion it proved to be a mistake.  We had followed the path on the wrong side of the canal and after a few hundred yards it deteriorated into a muddy track before ending up in someone’s driveway. About turn and back to the road.  We picked up the B8004 instead which would have been a lovely ride along the side of the hill with fantastic views of the Nevis Range.  Would have been, had not been for the rain and the low black clouds which obscured our view.  I was by this time developing a stiff neck from peering out from under my long peaked cap and hood.  My vision was mainly restricted to viewing the road just in front of my front tyre through a narrow slit of about six inches wide by three inches high, and all this majestic scenery was therefore rather wasted.  #

At Gairlochy locks we decided to stick to the road rather than risk the cycle path through the Great Glen as we knew it was not paved and we feared it would be muddy.  Second mistake of the day. We toiled up the hill to the Commando Monument, which is in a wonderful situation at the top of the hill by Spean Bridge overlooking the mountains.  At this point the rain had turned to hail coming in horizontally and the wind was gusting at up to 60 miles per hour.  We looked doubtfully at the A82, which had no verge or path.  Four huge lorries hurtled past us one after the other.  “That’s it Routes” said Mick, who had taken to calling me this, ever since the Kirkstone Path debacle, “there’s no way I’m cycling down there in this wind it would be suicide”.  I had to agree, and we headed back down the road to Gailochy locks, the way we had come.  By now we were freezing and as the rain got heavier we sheltered in a disused church for a while before heading back to the Great Glen Way, the forest path we had eschewed half an hour earlier.  In fact it wasn’t too bad and the pines gave some shelter from the wind and rain. 

The Great Glen is really impressive, a huge rift between the two landmasses which make up Scotland.  Incredible to think that once the north of this rift was part of the North American continent whilst the land to the south was part of the same land mass as Norway.  Seven miles along the track we came to Leven where we stopped for lunch in the very welcoming boat cafe.  The road by now appeared to be quieter and we interspersed spells on it with spells on the canal towpath, rather more successfully this time.  At Fort Augustus we stopped for a quick pint of Black Cuillin at The Bothy pub/restaurant, stocked up on supplies and headed on up to the Loch Ness Youth hostel.  By now we had been soaked for many hours and tempers were getting frayed. 

Outside the shop Mick had trouble with his pannier bag which was refusing to do as it was told and stay on the bike.  “If you had a face” he told the bag angrily “I would smash your face in”.  I suppose it was lucky for the bag it was faceless and it escaped unharmed.  From here it was a ten mile run to the hostel, and we were glad to get there, perched on the edge of Loch Ness. 

Stats:
Miles 49
Beer: 1
 
Route here

Day Nineteen - Inchtree to Glen Nevis

Today was intended to be a rest day - but as we had caved in early yesterday we had a gentle ride into Fort William from Inchtree.

On arriving in Fort William we decided to head on up to the hostel at Glen Nevis, at the foot of the Ben and book in. We arrived in what had become the Scottish theme - ie cold, bedraggled and wet and booked in, locked the bikes away and trekked the three miles into Fort William in search of pies. By the time we got there we were absolutely sodden (again!). We hopped into the Grog and Gruel for a couple of pints before catching the bus back to the hostel.

Mick fears he has trenchfoot, his toenails have fallen off. The rain is phenomenal, I have never seen anything like it. It rains and it rains and it rains. I am pleased we did not attempt to go very far today.


Where's that quid I dropped?


Is it under here?

Stats:

Miles: 12
Beers: 4
Soakings: a billion


Route here

Day Eighteen - Oban to Inchtree

We hung around in Oban for a couple of hours pretending to do some shopping and drinking coffee in Tesco’s before setting off in the rain.
It was a wet day, such a shame as I had been looking forward to this scenic day.

We picked up the cycle path on and off from the sea life centre.  We didn’t follow it all as it meandered in true Sustrans fashion but the bits parallel to the road were good and on smooth tarmac, picking up the course of the old railway. Near the bridge at Ballachulish it was really pretty and all the rain meant some spectacular waterfalls.


We knew there was a pub coming up.  As it happens the one we found wasn’t the one we were looking for, but the Four Seasons bar, attached to the adventure centre in Inchtree advertised a real fire and real ale, both of which sounded tempting.  We called in for a pint and ended up booking a room for the night.  One slap up meal and several pints of beer later (Trade Winds from the Cairngorm Brewery and when that ran out, Red Cuillin from the Isle of Skye Brewery) set us up nicely.  We just wondered what the weather had in store for us tomorrow….

Stats:
Miles: 38

Beers: lots but we felt we had earned them

Route here

Day Seventeen - Lochranza, Arran to Oban

Gutted.  Absolutely gutted.  This was the most spectacular day of the whole trip.  Or it was supposed to be the most spectacular day, up the West Coast of Scotland. We caught the ferry from Lochranza to Claonaig Bay and then took the minor road over the top of the Mull of Kintyre. 


At Tarbert we went to the cafe and squeezed in along with a hundred walkers also trying to crowd into the tiny cafe in an attempt to get some shelter.  A huge piece of cake set us up for the next leg of the journey.

Up to Ardrishaig on the A83 which wasn’t too busy, where we picked up the Crinan Canal towpath.






Back on the B8025 towards Kilmartin the house martins were in abundance, swooping and diving in front of us as we sped along, master flyers skimming the ground before shooting up into the sky and then diving again. Kilmartin looked interesting, I would have liked to stay longer.  Surrounded by ancient burial sites and stone circles, it has been a place of settlement for thousands of years.  Sadly we only had time for a quick coffee at the museum cafe before heading off.

The next section should have been fabulous but the weather was so poor it was miserable.  We followed the coast up and ever up, on the edges of lochs with mountains and glens aplenty.  We were soggy. Our bags were soggy.  We decided to forget any idea of camping, not that we saw any sites, and keep going to Oban.  We rolled into the town at eight o’clock.  We had landed on the mainland at ten that morning.  Most of that time had been in the saddle. We were tired.  We quickly found an acceptable B&B, went to the Tartan Tavern which had an interesting concept of tartan and leather wall coverings and two very large screen tv’s showing football which cheered Mick up.  A couple of pints of Old Speckled Hen and a whisky each was quite sufficient to send us off to the land of nod.

Stats

Miles: 64

Beers: 2 (me) 4 (Mick) Whiskies 4

Route here

Day Sixteen –Troon to Lochranza, Arran

After a late and copious breakfast we set off from Troon leaving not quite enough time to cycle around the coast to Ardrossan. We got to the port to see the ferry waiting.
Mick, however, still unsure as whether taking the ferry was cheating decided to cycle to Arran after all.

The sun was shining when we reached Brodick and we thought we might spend a couple of days here.  



We headed up on the road to the north of the island, passing the majestic Goatfell and some amazing erratic boulders. 
We soon found ourselves climbing out of the leafy coast and onto a very windy moor before descending into Lochranza on the northern coast.  We pitched camp in the site next to the golf course, amused to see sheep grazing on the green – not a sight you would see in Troon!  We called in the Lochranza Hotel for a couple of pints at eye watering prices before retiring to our little tent to listen to the rain hammering down on the canvas.




Stats
Miles: 32

Pints of beer: 2 (couldn't afford any more)

Route here

Day Fifteen – Dumfries to Troon

We looked around Dumfries a bit more whilst looking for a replacement for the jacket I had covered in oil yesterday and we decided we liked it very much (Dumfries rather than the jacket). We did note however that Robbie Burns seemed to have more than one favourite pub in the town. But by all accounts he did enjoy a spot of convivial drinking so perhaps its not so surprising that so many pubs claim to have a held a special place in his affections. 

It was eleven o’clock by the time we left Dumfries, having checked the route with a local postie, down the back lanes to Moniaive.  It was a lovely run, not too hilly, and the weather was finally being kind to us once more.  Spaghetti on toast at the very nice Green Tea Cafe set us up for the cycle over the remote top road to Carsphairn which was spectacular.  We hardly met a car for miles and miles.  Long upward pulls up of five or six miles were rewarded with equally long coasts down and we passed the day very pleasantly. Until we decided to settle on somewhere to stop.

We decided Stair might be a good place to aim for, for no other reason than a woman in the garage where we stopped for coffee said she had heard that they did good food there. We had a swift pint (whilst sat outside) and went on to Tarbolten where the guidebook marked a campsite. The campsite was no more and the two pubs in the village were both pretty dire. We decided to cycle on and stop at a campsite or B&B, whichever came first. Twenty miles cycling saw no sign of either.  We finally rolled into Troon and then spent a miserable hour looking for somewhere to stay.Finally we booked into South Beach Hotel. We managed to down a couple of pints of Northern Light beer from the Orkney Brewery before turning in, exhausted.

Stats

Miles: 76

Pints of beer drunk: 3 (bought 4 but fell asleep)

Route here

Day Fourteen – Hesket Newmarket to Dumfries

The day started well.  The sun was shining, the birds were singing. Mick, although still suffering the effects of a cold, said he was good to go.  He did get bored waiting for me to pack and decided to take up Tai Chi to pass the time…



We sailed into Carlisle where we had a lovely scrambled egg on toast and picked up a miniature bottle of whisky to toast our triumphant crossing of the Border. Following the advice of a friendly local chap in Carlisle city centre we easily found the back road out of the city to Rockcliffe. Then it all started to go wrong.  It was raining and I stopped to put my raincoat on. I dropped it and I got oil all over the sleeve.  I reached in to my barbag and found my pen had leaked ink everywhere.It was raining. We were drenched and cold when we crossed into Scotland.  We stopped for photos and a tot of whisky before peddling on along the B725 through Gretna and Annan. 





We headed west and the wind was in our face as we battled along.  Miraculously the sun eventually came out as we drew near Dumfries and we watched a couple of lapwings skimming on the breeze but we were soaked and we soon headed for the centre of town to find a B&B.  We quickly found a lovely place near the river, where we were givena fabulous room and a beer on the house, and after laying out our stuff to dry we headed into town where we stumbled across The Globe Inn, a favourite drinking “howff” of Robbie Burns and which also served a fine pint of Criffel from Sulwath Brewers Limited. From there we headed to the Jewel in the Crown where we had an excellent curry. Things were looking up.


Stats

Miles: 51

Pints of beer: 2 plus a kingfisher

Route here

Day Thirteen – Windermere to Hesket Newmarket

I am Routes and Mick is Maintenance. This has been agreed from the start.  But Mick said he had a proposal for a route and so, unwilling to be too dictatorial, I agreed he could plot the route today. Big Mistake.  Windermere to Ambleside was fine if rather wet, a downhill coast most of the way.  By the time we got to Ambleside it was tipping down and we dived into a cafe for an hour. 

Kirkstone Pass, if you have never been there, is very steep. 


The pub at the top was smashing however and it proved to be a bit of an End-To-Enders convention.  Two other cyclists were also doing the journey although on a different, faster route (no towpaths!).  They were on day eight. We also discovered that they also came from Bristol!  In the pub, the landlord said he had also cycled End-to-End, but he had gone north to south. Like everyone else we spoke to who went this way he had a headwind all the way.




Mercifully the sun came out and we had a lovely couple of hours ride along the banks of Lake Ullswater and then up the hill past Aira Force.  We found a track at Troutbeck which bypassed the A66, finally crossing it to follow the lanes through to Mungrisdale and Hesket Newmarket. At Hesket we firstly called at The Old Crown.  This is a great pub. We set up camp at Mr and Mrs Todhunter’s farm next door which has the best appointed toilet of any campsite I have used, before repairing to the pub for a fine meal and a couple more pints of beer from the Hesket Newmarket Brewery. 

Stats 35 miles
Pints of beer: 4
Hills pushed: 1 The Road from Hell.

Route here

Day Twelve - Preston to Windermere

At last we are out of the conurbations and we really feel that we are in “The North”.  We tried the A6 out of Preston for about five minutes before diving onto minor roads up to Garstang, and then onto Glasson Dock.  It was dead flat and the weather was fine. Better make the  most of it as the forecast for tomorrow is appalling.  Just before we reached Glasson we spotted a hare in the field.  A minute or two later, to our delight, another hare appeared and the hares started boxing. 

Glasson is an interesting little place, the gateway to the sea and linked to the Lancaster Canal.  We stopped for fish chips and mushy peas.
The cycle path along the Lune to Lancaster was an excellent choice, and when we reached the town we only had a mile or two on the A6 before joining the canal path to Carnforth.  This was excellent under the wheels and a very enjoyable afternoon it was looking at the ducklings and the boats along the way.

Eventually however the towpath turned to grass and after a while bumping along we gave in and got back on the A6 to Levens. We were heading into the Lake District now and I realised that it was very hilly. Very hilly indeed.  And no campsites.  By the time we pedalled up the hill to Windermere proper I was exhausted. 





Stats:
Miles 61
Pints of beer: 2

Route here