Princess Mary's Royal Air Force Nursing Service

The “Big Bike Ride” on 4-18 August 2008

Di and Ewan’s Grand Adventure started the night before departure with “What have we forgotten?” Final preparations comprised squeezing as much air out of the panniers as possible to make them “look” as small as possible!! However, never again let it be said that girls can’t travel lightly. A girl had choices to make . . . . . make-up or puncture repair kit, hairdryer or padded cycling shorts!! It is obvious from the photographs what those choices were! We flew with our bikes to RAF Lossiemouth and arrived to a light shower of rain, which at the time seemed an inconvenience but little did we know!!!

On Day 1 we departed John O’Groats bright and early on the road to Tongue. We had spent most of the previous weekend eating for England, knowing that they were much needed calories for the “big burn”; however, our breakfast that morning had consisted of dried fruit, muesli bars, air and a bit of dust scraped from the rim of the front wheel! Planning was clearly going well! Note to selves: Cobwebs and air do not contain enough carbohydrates for a route that has big hills that keep getting in the way! Thank goodness for Thurso and the man who invented “Jock Pies” and ketchup! The route took us along the A836, across all of the river inlets, so each downhill sector was immediately followed by a huge incline and was matched by the force of the wind blowing onshore from the North Sea, so even the downhill parts required continual peddling! A little harsh in the scheme of things!

On Day 2 the saying, “Are we there yet?” took on a whole new meaning! The only sunny day throughout the entire challenge witnessed the bearing of arms and the donning of SPF 15. The rare glimpse of summer meant that we did fall fowl of the “Kamikaze” bees, which really smart at speed and always seem to find an undefended forehead or lower jaw! The scenery was breathtaking . . . . . . literally, particularly at the top of Struie Hill. The cartographer clearly had a sense of humour in his reference to the said geographical feature as a Hill, in anyone else’s book it would have been termed a Mountain!! Ewan experienced a sudden unexplained loss of resistance when cycling and discovered his left peddle had removed itself from his bike with a remaining attachment to his cycling shoe, which left him with a transient comedy gait. He quickly fixed it and denied me the opportunity to tease him for long! Later cobwebs were off the menu and replaced by fare from the Friary Fish and Chip Shop in Beauly (near Conon Bridge), truly fit for a King. John and Evelyn at the Conon Bridge Hotel kindly sponsored us for accommodation and breakfast, the standard of food was certainly maintained at recently experienced high standards. We wished we could stay for a spot of fishing in the Conon River, a short cast away from the hotel, but unfortunately the draw of the cycle seat was too strong!

Day 3 could mainly be described as “dreech”, I’m not sure what it means but it sounds great with a strong Scottish accent and presumably relates to precipitation as we got another drenching for most of the day! We didn’t manage to see the Loch of Ness, so there were no jokes about Mothers out swimming; they could have been out there doing a few lengths but we weren’t able to give them a score for artistic impression on account of being unable to see beyond 20 metres! We seemed to be cycling in the bottom of a very low lying cloud, which dispelled our theory that they are actually made of cotton wool; no, just gallons of water. The mist even prevented us from seeing any wild Haggis; we know they exist because Ewan had a slice of one in his sandwich for lunch! In fact, despite the weather, today was quite an enlightening day; we also discovered that “caravan man” really hasn’t grasped the concept of width. He managed to come within inches of us on several occasions after “pulling out” to pass us on narrow roads. Furthermore, we were also exposed to a new form of driving hand signal of the two-fingered variety; a presumed symbol of a passenger’s dissatisfaction at being delayed an extra 20-seconds on his journey.

It was hoped that Day 4 would introduce us to a better class of road-user; however, this was not to be and impatience won the day. Thankfully we were unharmed but that was more by luck than judgement. Unfortunately, the weather remained “dreech” so we were unable to see the fabulous scenery unfolding before us, which is a shame as it might have taken our minds off the hills that could only be described as “cheeky” at best! We arrived at Inveraray and could see the place across Loch Fyne at which we would turn onto the A815, only a short distance across the water. However, the ferryman was conspicuous by his absence and the only way there was around the Loch . . . . . 16-miles later we arrived and had only 20 more miles to our destination. The last part of the journey was really worth it, Loch Eck is beautiful and on that day was very still and tranquil . . . . . and flat!!!! We had a fabulous Scottish welcome at the home of Sqn Ldr (Rtd) Aileen Danby who cooked us Scotch Broth to help toot our way up the hills the next day, fresh Monkfish and far too much wine!

On Day 5 (is it really morning already?) we learned a valuable lesson; never attempt a cycle after staying at Aileen’s house, the food is far too nice and the headache a little too sharp! We had a few demons to fight that day, namely: time, hills, the fact that the ferry didn’t sail to Chepstow, poor road surfaces around Glasgow and the GPS having a bad-hair day! The GPS kept diverting us off the busy routes onto the quieter cycle tracks at the expense of an additional 15-miles; a fact, which tested the sense of humour on a day when Paracetamol clearly wasn’t cutting it. On arrival at our accommodation we realised that the elevation of the hills totalled almost 4,000ft in only 65-miles, a record at that point of the journey and was the reason we felt so exhausted (so it wasn’t the wine after all!!!)

Day 6 proved to be the most testing of all and a day that will stay vivid in the memories of us both. We set out from Kilmarnock to Carlisle on another windy day, so nothing unusual, but the wind gradually increased in strength along with the rainfall throughout the morning. The wind was blowing from the west and blowing us into the curb (luckily), at a roundabout we had to turn left and it looked as though we would receive a strong back wind for the first time. No, that would have been far too easy! At that point the wind direction changed and became a squall, which literally blew us off the bikes. We had cycled only 16-miles in 2 and a half hours and had 74-miles still to go! Picture the scene, two drowned rats in the middle of nowhere, unable to cycle on, finding it almost impossible to push the bikes forward and providing a great target for lorry drivers to aim the puddle water at as they drove on at speed. Ewan discovered a lowly cattle shed in a nearby field and despite the remains of a rotting calf carcase and the by-product of a whole herd’s grass-munching escapades, we were able to take refuge from the weather. There were no characters of regal descent bearing gifts but that didn’t matter when we had soggy sandwiches and an earthy fragrance in the air! After an hour the storm abated but the rain continued just in case we were thinking that the journey would be too easy without it. Without the wind we were able to make up time on the road to Dumfries and crossed the border into England at 18.55hrs with only 15-miles to go. A hot shower had never been so welcoming!

The sector was much shorter on Day 7 so we took advantage of a leisurely breakfast; a mistake had we known what was ahead of us! Our nemesis (the wind) was set to wreak havoc yet again on the exposed Cumbrian hills! The engineers who built the M5 motorway had the right idea when they set about their building task with sticks of dynamite. Those hills might well look beautiful on a postcard but when trying to climb them on a bike in the howling wind and rain, they were far less appealing let me tell you! During our training sessions the rain that fell seemed comedic, today it just wasn’t funny at all. The wind blew the rain across the moor in a horizontal fashion and the drivers taking refuge in lay-bys to escape the sudden deluge, looked on in sheer bemusement. Even the sheep looked miserable! We stopped on a few occasions to empty our footwear and wring out our gloves and socks. However, the latter proved fairly nugatory after I fell off, ankle deep into a huge puddle that straddled the width of the road! At that moment my sense of humour, that I had packed so diligently, finally abandoned me . . . . . . . but only briefly! The humour melt-down was short-lived as when we arrived at Apley House B&B, in Sedbergh, the size of the bath was legendary and once filled with piping-hot water our cares just drained away! What a great place to stay.

Overnight, I managed to clear the rainwater driven into my right ear by the howling wind the day before! Unfortunately, I was now able to hear the traffic as it passed just inches from my front pannier. Day 8 was spent far more sedately cycling a shorter distance at less of a gradient in dryer conditions. We arrived to meet Marj Adderley at Rose Cottage B&B in Clayton-le-Dale at the much more reasonable hour of 5pm. So much so that we even ventured out to a restaurant for dinner. I had managed to squeeze enough air out of my pannier to make room for party clothes but unfortunately not the iron! My Mum would have been so proud at my appearance that night!

Blackburn to Chester on Day 9 was wet again . . . . . . we started with wet shoes so a bit more sogginess was never going to make any difference! In Wigan during a particularly heavy shower of rain we took refuge in an Italian Coffee Shop, a strange venue for sausage and egg on toast but very nice never the less. We posed a health and safety risk as our clothes dripped pools of water all over the floor but the waiters didn’t seem to mind! A further comedic downpour in Warrington, timed perfectly to coincide with our unique experience of having dried out, led us to believe that the rain cloud was actually following us as there was always blue sky ahead that we could never seem to reach! I believe this is termed paranoia and could only be successfully treated with chocolate!

So impressed were we with the progress being made on a road that was actually flat on Day 10 that we both missed the junction we required and ended up on a bit of a detour. Navigation was never my strong point! However, we still managed 30-miles by 1200hrs, a fete previously unheard of due to the adverse weather conditions! There were a few cheeky hills between us and our destination though that we had to look forward to. I was now carrying a knee injury and our host, Jack Limond at the White Horse Inn in Clun, probably saved the entire challenge by providing me with the last of his ice to suppress the swelling. For those that received tepid Gin & Tonics that night, I apologise, but my need was probably greater! It was open-mike night at the Inn, which was directly below our room. It felt like we were being serenaded from the bottom of our beds, but it really didn’t matter, for me anyway, as I managed to sleep through the entire back catalogue of the Bee-Gees, Abba and the Rolling Stones! We just wish we’d had the energy to join in!

On Day 11 we headed for Chepstow and had a very classy lunch sat on the wall of a Londis store eating chicken sandwiches with squeezy cheese as a butter substitute. Ewan certainly knows how to treat a lady! The mother of all monster hills was lurking just outside of our destination, which was becoming something of a tradition! A cycle club rubbed salt into our open sores by whizzing past us at speed up the hill. However, they were not carrying panniers or the weight of 17 rainstorms worth of water, much of which had drained into my front panniers judging by their ever-expanding contents! Perhaps it was our mascot “Lambie” who had doubled up as a squeegee on several occasions! The place we stayed was at the bottom of another hill so we looked forward to climbing that first thing in the morning!

For the first time in days it was a clear and sunny morning so Day 12 was off to a flying start until we reached the end of the drive and remembered the hill we had to climb to rejoin the road. At least it wasn’t raining. . . . . . yet! We crossed the Severn via the M48 bridge, much to Ewan’s dismay but it saved us about 50-miles not having to cycle around it! We were staying with John and Lou at the Mendip Stud, perfectly located on the A38 as it is en route, nowhere near a hill or a river that might flood so didn’t delay us in any way from jumping into a deep hot bubbly bath or from the other luxurious accoutrements on offer. When planning a challenge like this it is important to ensure you organise luxury accommodation as it helps to forgive any of the other unforeseen occurrences such as high winds, receiving a constant soaking and gradients that have no concept of a thing called gravity! The Mendip Stud certainly fulfilled all of our expectations, which were then exceeded on the delivery of Lou’s legendary breakfast!

Day 13 didn’t bode well, and then we looked out of the window and saw the rain! I could barely move because of a rather extended stomach . . . . one too many sausages! but we managed to make good progress on our journey to Crediton in Devon. The promise of hills west of Taunton did not disappoint and the Jelly Belly Sports Beans we had been given came into their own. It is difficult enough to ingest the number of calories required on a daily basis to endure such a challenge so a small bag of beans gave a great power boost when we were flagging. They really do what they say on the tin! We reached Yeoford at a reasonable hour despite being wet through to the skin. Our hostess Winnie was a delight and she prepared a huge pot of tea with apple pie and clotted cream. What a star. Warren’s Farmhouse was another luxurious oasis in the middle of damp and grey, rain-soaked Devon but it didn’t matter because we had crispy fresh sheets, comfortable beds and quiet surroundings. Heaven!

Winnie’s husband told us the route to the A30 was hilly and he was right! Day 14 was another day filled with climbs and descents, oh, and a puncture! Ewan achieved the first and only puncture of the challenge and, with his Teflon tyres, must have found the biggest nail ever to cycle over! If he was testing their durability then he learned that they’re not resistant to a 3-inch nail. The rain started again at about 1600hrs near Wadebridge and fell in its usual comedic style, along with the strong head wind and the steep hills; it was just a standard training day. We arrived at RAF St Mawgan and at 1930hrs the wind was still howling, which didn’t bode well for our final push!

Day 15 and the wind had not abated! No surprise there then! The rain was its usual tolerable self but the wind was of a different magnitude! We had to peddle hard downhill once again, which was just HARSH after all we’d been through! But . . . . . . we made it and completed the challenge at 1550hrs. So after 15 days, 1,054 miles, a 44,000ft ascent, 1 x puncture, no support team, John O’Groats to Lands End . . . . . . . . DONE!

We would like to express our massive gratitude to the sponsors of our challenge without whom we could not have achieved it. Thank you for helping us to make a difference in Afghanistan.