OE2OE

 I bought a few little gadgets for this trip. A midge net, for instance. And I'm glad I did. I also bought something which has become one of my favourite bits of kit; an all weather stove lighter. It's about the size of my thumb and it produces a jet which would probably power concorde to take-off whatever the conditions. Gone are the days of trying to find a dry match or wrestle with a temperamental cigarette lighter.  This morning, I had one tea bag left. I had also run out of porridge. I was down to my last emergency flapjack and ration of fruit and nuts. As I packed up, I was aware that if I cycled the same distance again today as yesterday, I would make it all the way home. But that seemed a tall order when I'm just south of Sunderland and I've just cycled 95 miles. I started off with a 'let's see what happens' approach. The last few miles of yesterday's ride had taken me along a track called the Eden Walkway. By coincidence, this was part of my rou...

 A slightly odd night as I slept with my head at the foot of the tent. The wind demanded that the tent be pitched that way round but the slope demanded that I lay the other way round. Still, it worked and I slept. My nights have been pretty good. This is no doubt, partly due to fatigue but also because of my wonderful air bed! It folds up to the size of a small loaf of bread but inflates to a thickness of 10cms. It makes camping possible for someone of my age. (And weirdness, as that bird claimed a few days ago...) I had no definite plans for a nights stop today. I usually have some idea of a campsite on the morning of that day. I just decided to cycle south and see where I ended up. The day was blessedly short of tracks but big on hills. Hills kill a heavy bike dead, rather like a tandem does. I find myself in bottom gear with depressing frequency.  After a long time with no shops and no opportunity for refreshment therefore, I arrived near Craster. I made the decision to tak...

 Pulling on cold, soaking wet clothes at 6 am is never going to be fun and it wasn’t this morning. Kate and I have done it before quite a few times when on similar trips. The fact that I was also in a cold and dewy tent added no further joy. Tea. Porridge. Strike camp. Go. It is a routine that I am used to now and it takes me about 90 minutes without rushing. Today, I was cycling round what you might call the ‘hump-back’ of Britain. (If you imagine the UK as someone sitting. Legs as Cornwall and Scotland as the head) This means coastal route so my hopes were high for relatively flat riding. I was soon on the coast again, this time south of Edinburgh and heading for England. If I reach England, that will surely be a big milestone on the ride. The sun was out, roads were quiet and the wind wasn’t unhelpful. When a Greggs hove into view, I made my first stop. I entered the shop to find a woman standing behind the counter waiting for a customer. No one else was there. I greeted her br...

 Couldn't face making porridge this morning. Just tea, which is sacrosanct. It was a cold and overcast day. The sun did not 'have his hat on'. Was it the lure of Morrisons café, as experienced the previous evening? My route took me all the way back down Gallows hill in a straight line from the campsite to Morrisons. It must be a sign. Such was my eagerness for this gastronomic delight that I arrived 20 minutes before the café opened. I have learnt the Scottish for saying you haven't really been doing anything: "Och! Just feeding the midges". Not that the midges entered the hallowed ground of Morrisons café, you understand.  I plonked myself near the one socket and plugged in every electrical contrivance I possessed and waited. I don't know if my appetite suddenly wained or if the 'Wee Scottish Breakfast' just didn't deliver but after all that anticipation, I could only eat half of it. I got back on track and allowed the sat nav to talk me out ...

 Yes, it was cold last night, in the coldest village in Scotland. I really had to get my string pulling right but my sleeping bag did well. Getting up was another matter. Getting up and pulling on freezing cycling clothes required some discipline. I made tea and porridge knowing it was 30 miles before any sort of shop and the first thing in front of me was the Druimuachdar pass. I set off at 7am. Everything was deserted. Not that there was much to desert, I suppose. The climb up the pass was relentless but ok. Not steep and a fantastic cycle path. I stopped when I spotted a stream as I was out of water and thirsty. I knew I wouldn't see a tap for a while. As I added my water purification tablets, I couldn't help feeling that I was simply polluting what was probably beautiful, fresh water. I took a gulp and gasped. It felt like it was just above freezing. When I woke up this morning, it was 2° after all. The road reached a plateau and rolled on along the top for quite a while b...

                                   views...            A track taking me into Aviemore        My impromptu campsite at Dalwhinnie This chap was staring at me all night. I stayed the right side of the law, I think.  I learnt something about my sleeping bag last night. If it's cold and you don't pull all the strings, you also, will be cold. By half way through the night, I had learnt which strings to pull. It makes the bag wrap round your shoulders and your head and makes an extraordinary difference. Within seconds. Sleeping whilst remaining in this situation is a new art. I spent a few minutes planning how to turn over, tried, failed, rested from the exertion then had another go. Success.  In the morning, the 71 year old woman in the next bay complained that her sleeping bag obvious wasn't up to the job because she had been cold. I wondered...

 The day started with another go on one of the chairs in the kitchen. The sun was out. The wind was belting along in the right direction! What's more, the overall slope for the first 15 miles, was down. It was beautiful cycling. Amazing scenery and I came across my first shop for a while. I dived in, full of anticipation for all the goodies I could buy, then just stood there transfixed. I had no idea what to buy. In the end I bought a pack of four scones (no butter or anything) and a hot sausage roll. I took them outside, found somewhere to sit and tucked in to the sausages roll. Despite my hunger, it was so disgusting that I could only eat half of it. It reminded me of an incident at school when I was twelve. Sausage rolls were on the menu for lunch. They tasted similar to the one I had just had. But being a boy, I wanted seconds. I went to the counter to ask and they refused to serve me. They said that they were so disgusting that no one should be eating them. And there we were,...