E P I C

What a weekend. I still can't believe I really cycled 540 kilometres in less than 48hrs, in conditions that were nowhere near perfect. And as I have been knackered, it was still not enough to say I would not try to push further. And that little smile on my face cycling into Fort William just in time for the train ended the day in good fashion. Looking back I didn't expect to get that far when I left Edinburgh for the train to Helensburgh on Friday. I had done one serious weekend of race touring already, cycling from Edinburgh to Fort William in one day, and back to Perth the other day, but I knew that it would be much harder this time with high winds and heavy rain. But I had also booked my ticket back to Edinburgh on Sunday, and hate to waste money. So even the forecast was shit, I was in for the trip, rain or shine. 

I was much better prepared this time, mentally and equipment wise as well. Having done a great deal of touring already, the challenge of race touring is to minimalise everything; you don't want to overload yourself with heaps of useless crap. My new Ortlieb 2.7l saddle bag was the newest addition to my collection of useful cycle accessories, giving enough space for all essential stuff, and still being 100% waterproof (trust me, a good thing for Scotland) and having an amazing mounting system, no noise here. It was packed with a pair of shorts, a dry jersey, underwear, chamois cream, toothbrush, my Fuji F30 camera, front and back lights, phone, credit card, muesli and Mars bars, toothpaste and my arm warmers. Plus the latest addition to my kit, the Montane Featherlite Velo, which I can highly recommend, if you are after a good protection against wind and rain, yet not comprimising on the weight and price. One of the drinking bottles served as holder for additional muesli bars and my headscarf. The only improvement is that I would add a pair of warm socks next time to substitute shoes, and a long sleeve merino shirt instead of the short one, it's just more cosy. Otherwise perfect. Towels are overrated, you can borrow them in backpackers, and soap is always available in bathrooms, makes a good substitute for shower gel. So that's pretty much all you need for a cycling holiday when not camping, add an additional tube, puncture kit and pump in your jersey, that's it. Everything was rounded up by wearing my lovely On Yer Bike tights and jersey from Tineli, excellent kit as well, and a pair of long finger gloves, I had predicted that it would be horrible and I would need them.

So off I was for the weekend, leaving Helensburgh behind me cycling my first 62 km to Tyndrum. The beginning was promising; along very quiet roads to Arrochar, until the hell of the A82 began. Cycling along Loch Lomond is not much fun, even less if you get soaked by rain and overtaken by some idiots. In the list of most hated car drivers Audi and BMW drivers are on the top now. My first real stop was the Inveraman Hotel, talking to three beer drinking and smoking lads, who showed some respect for my undertaking. I didn't tell them where I was heading the next day, they thought cycling more than 5km was nuts already, especially on a Friday night when you are supposed to get pissed. I rather spent my money on something more exciting than beer and cigarettes, but it is nice to get some big ups for it. The next kilometres where a struggle into Tyndrum, only to recognise that everything was shot for food. Damn! The prospect of not having a proper meal and breakfast and then cycling 270km the next day scared me, but what could I do? Setting off later and getting stuff in the morning was out of discussion, so it was Mars and Twix as dinner, followed by a glass of water. Food for champions looks different! The only two people in the room were selfish hill walkers, no need to ask them for food.

The fabulous dinner was followed by some cornflakes and milk from the free food shelf, and another bar. I was still hungry when I left Tyndrum, setting off with Rannoch Moor in my sight, and the first of the bad weather approaching. Starting the day with one of Scotland's most treacherous landscapes isn't ideal, but yet the better option compared to the road over Oban, which is busy, and was made mainly unattractive by a massive westerly wind. So I struggled myself through the first rain to Glencoe, to stop for a ginger beer and my first Mars bar for the day. Rain again! I was still not sold on the idea of cycling 270 km in those conditions, especially as the weather was not meant to improve anyway, it was just meant to get worse. The decision was made at the Corran ferry, which is free for cyclists! That fact made me so happy I had to give it a go, and so I was in for some beautiful back roads to Lochailort over the Moydart Peninsula. More rain, but the odd bit of sunshine as well, to keep me motivated. And it is always funny to have that short conversations with random people, which can't believe that people are able to cycle longer distances on two wheels, without any support. Cycling the last miles to Lochailort made me homesick, they reminded me so much of Wellington. It felt like cycling round the bays, with a slight wind in your face. I won't go into further detail, but those moments make it rather implausible returning to my real home, which used to be Germany. The cycle into Mallaig was nothing new, but passing Morar is always fascinating, anytime I pass again. White sandy beaches and beautiful bays, it is a magic place.

The magic of the day was yet to unfold though after a totally overpriced lunch in Mallaig. It wasn't a normal ferry ride, it was a special one this time. Thanks to the Isle of Skye Pipe Band me and another woman had the privilege to enter the ferry after the band marched on. Yes, with pipes and drums they marched on, and we followed straight after. I felt honoured, and I love Scotland for its traditions. The ferry ride was well timed to watch some world cup action, and then the action was back on me. With a good break I felt fitter than ever for the last 105 km through the beautiful Isle of Skye. And after some rolling hills, and another brief concert of the pipe band in Broadford I made it to Flodigarry, back to meet my friend Bryan. It was worth all the effort and after 270km I still had some juice left in my legs, but in favour of the weather forecast the next day I took it slow.

I had expected bad weather for the next day, but nothing compared like this. The southerly gales didn't blow much motivation in my face, and so I struggled my way out of Flodigarry. It was the worst weather I had ever been cycling in. The headwinds were blowing all the rain right in my face, suddenly turning into a nasty gale and turning sideways, so it was more than hard to hold a lightweight road bike on the road. It got worse. The rain turned into torrential rain as I was making my way down to Sligachan, I was wet all the way through, and hail made the whole thing even better. Just imagine standing in full cycling gear under the shower, and somebody blows pebbles on you constantly. And you have to climb up passes in granny gear, with the feeling that you have to give up any given moment. Even though I struggled, I made it and survived. I didn't bail, and had to cycle the long way to Fort William over Invergarry, as the ferry was not running due to high winds. The whole day was a mixture of heavy rain, strong winds and cars driven mainly by good drivers, but some utter idiots as well. Nevertheless I was proud of myself that I made it, I had the right timing and the will to carry on. And, believe it or not, I truly enjoyed it. In every corner in Glen Shiel there were waterfalls making their ways down the valley. It was wet windy and beautiful. It was Scotland. And I was where I wanted to be, outside, on my bike.