Dr James' final musing

Getting back to Bristol has made me pause for thought. I’m slightly disappointed that our little adventure is over but not entirely reluctant to stop sitting on a bike saddle. Particularly striking for me have been the generosity of friends and the kindness of strangers – I’m delighted with how much you have raised and have been very grateful to those who we met on our trip who have helped us out in ways great and small. From Dave and his camping barn (probably my favourite), to the Highland farmer who stopped us to ask us about the ride and gave us money for Age Concern, we’ve encountered people who have been only too keen to help. I know that the money raised will make a significant difference to the work of Age Concern in Bristol.

My bike has now been reconstructed but it may have a little rest before the next trip. Where that will be I am not sure but perhaps other modes of transport could be investigated. The Cairngorms and the Highlands are certainly higher on the list than they were. Cowdenbeath however, has slipped a little.

Thanks once again to all of you who were kind enough to contribute.

Day 11

100 miles to go. Earlier start than usual and another lovely tailwind. Dramatic skies of dark clouds and blue skies. We flew along for 20 miles before finding a perfect spot for a quick pie overlooking a highland loch. From there we followed along a valley, dropping slowly towards the sea and the north coast. It would seem to be the hay making season in Scotland and we too were making hay while the sun shone, and more importantly, the wind blew on our backs.

We arrived at Bettyhill (married to Graham), at around 12 with 40 miles behind us, and were generously donated a round of scones from the hotel for our efforts. The finish line was not quite in sight, but round the corner and over the hill, so we made a few calls to bring forward our travel arrangements home to Bristol, committing ourselves now to the final 55 miles.

Suitably refreshed and anointed with increasingly essential creams, we pedalled off eastwards into a 20mph south easterly wind and some rather lumpy terrain. Ahhah! Some lejoggers have to put up with headwinds for most of their trips, but we had been blessed up to that point. I crouched down, hands on the drops of the bars and pedalled as hard as I could - it read 8mph on my GPS!

The next 35 miles were a real slog but very exhilirating with the beautiful coast line and the battle with the wind - at least the sun was still out. We reached Thurso 20 miles short of JOG, and refuelled at a seaside café, smashing a vase, Greek style in celebration. One last essential application and then we set out to complete our ride. We diverted inland to avoid being blown into the path of a German camper van and toiled once again into the teeth of the wind.

We spotted the lighthouse on the horizon and counted the miles down, extremely slowly, on the GPS. Not so soon it was measuring the distance in hundreds of feet, not miles and we arrived at Duncansby Heads lighthouse. Not the tacky John o'Groats tourist sign for the two Jameses, we opted instead for the extra mile and the exposed lighthouse. We snapped a few self timers and then disturbed a bird watcher from his Archers fix to take the finishing line picture.

The previous 10 miles or so, I has been dreaming of what the finishing line prize might be, however my continental style touring coach with on board toilet did not materialise. Instead we team time-trialled the further 18 miles into Wick with yet more headwind. Wick-ed! 117 miles today, 99 miles to finish the lejog route. Average speed 12.6 mph. Job done. More reflections perhaps later. Right now I am tired...
Love and more peas (I've missed them), J

Day 10

A blur at the mo

Job done

Finished at 7pm. Celebrated with a 20 mile ride into the teeth of the wind to Wick. James and James

Day 9

Woke up feeling rubbish. Bizarre disturbances in the middle of the night - a woman screaming at her husband whilst walking up and down the road adjoining our campsite (read farmers field). I think there may have been alcohol involved. Said au revoir to Mikey who headed back to Perth. Sad to see him go, but frankly his fresh legs were showing us up, and it was back down to the two Jameses for the final thrust. The Cairngorms were the day's challenge.

We knocked off an early 30 miles, and a wicked climb up to Glenshee ski resort, before hunger and a worsening bad knee saw us pick up bacon sandwiches and drugs in Braemar. My knee repaired by ibuprofen, Dr James then led us up to a very exposed Lecht ski centre. Banana cakes were then stowed at a local highland rug shop and café, and it was all I could so to stop Dr James adding to his old man reputation by buying some excess luggage.

I got a jump on Dr James on the last chevrons of the day and we rolled down through the Glenlivet estate to Grantown on Spey. After some debate where we knocked a few ideas around and then decided I was right all along, we opted for a night in a guest house in the town rather than a night of wild camping further on. Suffice to say we lucked out again finding fantastic hospitality at the Kinross guest house and even more at the Craig Barn pub down the road.

The landlady there, 68 year old Beryl Macrae, turned out to be a whole evening's entertainment. She was like Janet Street Porter on acid telling us her life story whilst serving pints to the local RAF trainees and cooking us pies (Dr James had 2), bizarrely imported from Pieminister in Bristol! Her most generous act was to give us a fiver for our fundraising, another random donation from a generous stranger.

Before retiring to bed I had a lovely 20 mins throwing a ball for a pleading dog in the next door's garden whilst on the phone to my mum. So it was 80 miles today and an early finish, at 11.6 mph, not bad with all the hills, I mean moutains!
Love, a steak and ale pie, and a pint of sheep shagger, J

Day 8

Saturdays mornings are made for lie-ins, and that's what we enjoyed chez Mikey and Lucy in Edinburgh. The night before Lucy knocked up a wonderful lasagne and Mikey showed his hosting skills, by serving it up, mostly into my lap. We washed it all down with a few glasses of wine and a wee dram before bed. Dr James' sister Heather came over for dinner too, and supplied us with large quantities of millionaire's shortbread for the next leg.

Dr James enjoyed solitary confinement in the loft that night and all slept well. Saturday morning involved a pillow fight, blow football and a bundle with Henry and Eddie, and then Mikey laid on a parcel packing challenge for us - generously use the time off our bikes wrapping up a pushchair. A trip to town for some provisions and coffee then left us rushing to meet our 1pm departure deadline, but we managed another bacon sandiwch first.

We said a fond farewell to Lucy and the kids. Mikey, who was joining us for the day, and night, then led us through the estates and industrial parks of Edinburgh, to the airport. I finally took over navigation, and promptly ended up in Cowdenbeath, not nice. Eventually we settled in to having a new team member and Mikey gladly paced is up the hills, perhaps a little too fast. But we cracked on well and before too long found ourselves in Blairgowrie with 75 miles under our belts.

Finding a campsite was the most stressful part of the trip so far, I'll skip that bit. We then had a 3 course meal, including a pudding assiette each - a choice of 4 deserts on a plate! So all in all a great day with good friends of both Jameses, and not a bad mileage too. For the record, 75 miles at a handy 14mph - that tail
wind keeps favouring us.
Love and two strips of whole nut dairy milk every ten miles or so, J

Keep it up lads!

Dearest James sq.,

A guerilla entry from the west Wales crew, holding you in their thoughts whilst reclining on a sunny beach, wishing you all the love and buns in the world for your remaining days of fierce pedalling.

You're doing so well, a real inspiration. Well, well done!

Love the OGs & co. x