Day 19 - Inverness to beyond Lairg (56 miles)

Saturday, June 11, 2011
What a beautiful, beautiful day I have just had. Easily the best for scenery so far and lots of variety in the terrain too. I started going over the wee hills of Munlochy into the Black Isle proper and my comment on the digital recorder is “It’s been worth coming 900 and odd miles just for this view”. I didn't photograph it of course. There were the trees and fields then the Beauly Firth then the mountains, all as they should be. And I was about to cycle through them! After the lanes of Munlochy and Culbokie I had to make a rabbit-dash across the Cromarty causeway with the A9 traffic. A lot of end-to-enders get as far as the Black Isle and see the “John O Groats 109 miles” road sign and just decide to get it over with by staying on the A9 all the way . What a shame; they’re missing the best bit.
I discovered cyclists’ miracle food at the Storehouse of Foulis restaurant. If you eat a big bowl of leek, potato and chorizo soup, a cheese scone, a meringue the size of a human head and a cup of strong coffee, it keeps you going for hours.

Struie view

After lunch I went parallel to the A9 and up into the hills. The climbing (it was raining by now) was made positively pleasant by listening to Les’s IPod on shuffle mode. I got Christmas carols, Elvis, Neil Diamond, U2, Amy McDonald. It was great! Carol Parker and I talked about IPods back at the start of this ride. Carol was undecided as to the merits but to me, when you are cycling alone you have no distraction from your pains, the distance, the weather etc. Music takes all that away, especially random music.
At the top of the hill was a beautiful muir. On Struie Hill I stopped at the viewpoint and just marvelled. Bonar Bridge was only 5 miles away and Lairg was another 11 after that.
Soon after I witnessed the Luck of the Mole. A small mole-let was scurrying across the road as a car approached. The car went over the mole but the wheels missed it. The draught birled it over a few times then it found its feet again and made for the verge where it swam into the earth just after I took its picture.

A mole with a story to tell

A Lairg sheep. Doesn't eat much.

Lairg was my intended end point but any extra mileage would make the last day shorter so I sped on into single-track territory with a huge empty muir stretching out before me and Altnaharra 19 miles away. A bit gallus really. By 5.55pm Les had not appeared and I couldn’t stop pedalling because the midgies were waiting for me. A phone signal materialised and we established contact. I wasn’t going to be picked to the bone by midgie-piranhas after all and ten minutes later I was in the car heading for the tent-house.

Base camp

Les, the former Highland Chef of the Year, prepared salmon with new potatoes and Caesar salad in the camping kitchen and all is well.
Only trouble with tenting is it doesn’t get dark and it is a little chilly at night even in June. Both problems are solved by sleeping with the North Ronaldsay woolly helmet pulled down over your eyes, Calimero fashion. I’ll leave you with that image.