Whiskey at the border
105.1 Miles, 4,144 ft of Elevation / 169.1 Km, 1,236 m of Elevation
Start: 07:16 Finish: 15:13 Moving Time: 6hrs 51 mins.
Ride Across Britain: 67% Complete
We cycled from Carlisle, in England, to Edinburgh, in Scotland. It was not a route made for cyclists.
The ‘old’ roads north run alongside the motorway and the train lines, but lie in disrepair. The occasional lorry thundered past an abandoned Little Chef restaurant as we chugged along the horrible surface, our whole bodies rattling, hands and bums sore.
The weather had finally regressed to the mean so we rode through showers and some wind. The advice was to look up at the view and writing this a few hours after finishing, it is now easier to pick out the highlights.
First, a huge, wide valley that was like being inside a model train set. In the distance, a tiny train ran alongside a river. A motorway swept through. Pylons carried electricity between distant towns. Cows and sheep grazed on the flanks of the hills, contained by stone walls.
Second, having to stop behind a herd of cows as a farmer and sheepdog ushered them down the road to the next field. The dog prowled low to the ground at the back of the group, snapping at their tails.
Third, climbing up onto a small moor where an army of giant wind turbines slowly rotated in thick fog. There could have been thousands of them, ready to attack.
With each day, the section from the last pit stop to the finish gets harder and harder. This trend was continued, as everyone was more tired yet simultaneously pushing hard to get back to Base Camp for food and rest.
We crossed the finish at a wet field in the Hopetoun Estate, with enormous relief.
First: to the queue for the physio team, where so many waited to be forced back into shape. My neck and quads were in bits but soon made more bearable via painful massage.
We took hot showers, dropped off our laundry and after 5 days gave in to a couple of beers as all 900+ people crowded into the marquee for dinner.
Tomorrow is rated 5/5 for difficulty, tackling the steep ramps of the Glenshee Ski Hill, past the Queen’s summer residence at Balmoral and into the Cairngorm mountains.
However, at more than two-thirds of the way there, there is a growing sense we can do it.
The Cycling Eagle 