Western Scotland and Isles day 4: Fionnphort - Calgary Bay (Mull)

As I had predicted, I had a very rough night in the tent. The wind changed direction overnight, hitting the tent fabric directly. With all the noise that that carries, I only got some good sleep past 5 am, when it seemed to have calmed down.

If it weren't so far North it would be packed with tourists! View from the campsite onto the beach

 At 8 am I exited the tent and was gifted with a beautiful day, sun and no winds. I even saw a couple of other tents pitched on the campsite, at least one belonging to another cyclist. My right eye seemed to be ok now, but there was no way I could be wearing contact lenses today. After stocking up at the local Spar with some Isle of Mull cheese, I took advantage of the Westerly winds and set out to enjoy the roads I had barely seen the day before, retracing my steps. By 10:30 am I was already on my way back to the bus shelter intersection with the road leading up to Loch Na Keal.

The most scenic dental clinic I've seen to date. Fionnphort.

Caribbean beach in Mull, at the campsite

I could see the cyclist I had met in the campsite ahead of me, so quickly tried to catch up with him. As it turns out, Matthew was also on the YACF forum, and more surprisingly, was a regular of the Friday Night Rides to the Coast. The world is a napkin, as we say in Spanish. While talking to him, we both realised we had probably cycled together already, in some of the rides organised by the Fnrttc people. Funny.

The bus shelter I used to take a break the day before. The cyclist is Matthew

Matthew and I rode together for quite some time, exchanging experiences and ideas for future tours. He was on a 3-week tour of Scotland, carrying a large load of four panniers, a rack bag and a big Carradice saddle bag. We shared the headwind once we turned West, towards Loch Na Keal. This section of road promised to be really scenic, or so I had read...

Somewhere along the B8035 in Mull

Today was a completely different day. The wind was not as strong, it was dry, and most importantly, sunny. The scenery along the B8035 really spoke for itself. The road was undulating, relatively flat while going parallel to the Lochs, but quickly gained elevation when going inland. Some of those inland sections were heavy wooded areas - which Matthew quickly explained were pine trees planted between WWI and WWII to promote the timber bussiness in the UK, especially in areas that are useless for other types of farming.

Going inland. The mountains on either side topped 800 m or so, according to the GPS

The downhill sections were always fantastic. No traffic and amazing views of the Loch Na Keal. Once we got to Gruline, Matthew and I parted separate ways. I continued West towards Calgary Bay along the B8073, while he would carry on on the B8035 towards Salen for some hot food.

About the get down to sea (Loch) level

Can it get any better than this?

In Killiechronan I stopped for lunch, which consisted of local cheese with tomatoes and bread. The Mull cheese was amongst the best I've ever had, up there with our very own manchegos. The views from my lunch spot were, again, amazing.

Very nice Mull cheese

Lunch spot at Killiechronan

As it usually happens in Scotland, it soon started raining, so I rushed my lunch and got back on the bike. It is funny though, in Scotland it rains even if you don't have a clould formation on top of you!

The road got a bit steeper along the Loch, quickly gained altitude and remained at 100 m for quite a while. I cycled past some road workers, who I asked about distance to Calgary beach (apparently one of the 10 top beaches in the whole of the UK!). They confirmed it was about 20 km or so, meaning a bit more than 1 hour at my pace. 

The downhill to Calgary from 200 m down to sea level followed a very steep climb that had me on my lowest gear for the first time on this trip. Although my initial plans were to head to Tobermory and spend the night there, I soon decided to spend the night at the beach. To my surprise, there even was some basic facilities to use, free of charge, for campers. They were really gross though, but still, nice to know they are there.

Almost 200 m above sea level

Calgary beach on the left

As I was descending towards the bay, I noticed I had phone reception for the first time in Mull. I quickly texted Lucy and the parents saying something like "it was rough yesterday, but I think today it's been one of the best days on the bike". There was already a tent in Calgary beach, and with the sun out, I did not hesitate much to pitch mine up.

I had met the other campers on the ferry crossing from Oban, the day before. They were a couple on their first tour, combining B&Bs and camping, and seemed quite friendly. Apparently, they told me there was also a café up the hill as you leave Calgary. It turned out to be a not-so-friendly bunch of people in there, but they had local beer which I could not resist to get... I also filled the water bottles and returned to the beach.

This is the life

It was about 5 pm when I set up camp. The water was not too cold, but I was not in the mood for a swim this time, so went around the bay on foot instead, while the sun set.

Calgary beach

Sunset at Calgary Bay

I retraced to my tent, cooked some local sausage I bought at the café, and planned the following's day route with the help of the maps: Tobermory, then ferry over to the mainland and then...will see.

It had been a superb day on the bike. Mull had not disappointed, and as other cyclists say, it certainly is amongst the best places one could ever ride in. If the weather cooperates, it cannot get much better, surely.

Maps and ferry times

The stats for the day:

- Odometer: 92.7 km

- Max speed: 55.8 km/h

- Moving average: 17.1 km/h

- Moving time: 5h 24min

Western Scotland and Isles tour day 3: Crinan-Oban-Fionnphort (Mull)

I was awake and eating some breakfast by 6:30 am, after yet another wet and cold-ish night. I got around the packing relatively quickly, although I was still unsure what goes into each pannier...I should get better at this I thought!

Eventually set off minutes past 8 am. The roads were damp and it was completely overcast, yet it was not too cold. Actually, it was perfect for riding, with temperatures around 12-15C. I soon got back on to the A816 that goes all the way up to Oban. As I was approaching it, I saw a loaded cycle tourist coming from the South. When I caught up with him I realised it was Phil, who I've travelled with on our way to Arran.

A816 towards Oban

Phil had been taking it easy as his ferry bound for Barra, in the Outer Hebrides (and our next destination!) was not running on the day he thought it would be...He stayed overnight in Lochgilphead, at the dreadful campsite I'd seen the day before. Together we made good progress, although because he was carrying even more weight than I was, he got dropped out on all the hills. I did not mind this, and waited for him at the top.

The A816 was surprisingly quiet, and very very pleasant. The tarmac was superb! The Scots really know how to keep their (few) roads in good condition! The scenery was superb, but I was feeling a bit hungry. In a tiny village called Kilmelford we pulled over. The café was nice, but it was still too early and they were not serving food or drinks yet, so the only other option was the Cuilfail Hotel. 

The landlady accommodated us (she even made me porridge!), and for a fiver (i.e. 5 pounds) we got a continental breakfast that was much appreciated. With energy levels repleted, we carried on on the undulating A816. As the km past, I learnt that Phil was quite an interesting character. Not only he had and still works with helicopters (aviation and all things that fly are one of my other passions, but I will leave that out, for now!), but he was also an experienced mountaineer! Amongst his numerous trips, those that seemed to stand out included Bolivia and Nepal, which are both top on my to-do list. 

Nice scenery along the A816 (courtesy of Phil Parker)

It was good to have Phil to cycle with to Oban. Although I do enjoy solo cycling, I always try and make conversation with other cyclists - and sometimes it pays off! I got good advice from Phil, and promised to keep in touch, given our future plans of cycling in South América. Without really noticing, and after a quick descent down to sea level, we made it to Oban. It was 11:30 am.

Lucy's camera batteries had been playing up, and so I thought that Oban would probably be my last resource to find a suitable charger. We cycled past an electronic shop, which looked quite messy from the outside, but which, to my surprise, stocked a Chinese-made universal charge. Even more surprisingly was to find the owner speaking in fluent Spanish on the phone! Funnily enough, as it has happened already more than 10 times since I moved to the UK, she thought I was Scottish!!!

Well, I am convinced this is due to people not understanding a word of what I am saying, specially if tired. But it gave me a boost! Perhaps, after all, I have got ride of that Spanish accent that we all have at some point?

The Isle of Mull in the background, from Oban

Once at the ferry terminal, Phil and I got our respective tickets. I would go to the Isle of Mull, while he was taking the long ferry crossing to Barra. I really was tempted to change my plans and go with him, as the Outer Hebrides beckoned, but eventually decided to stick to my original plans and return with Lucy soon. My ferry was not due until 2:00 pm, and so I had plenty of time to have a spin around town.

Oban 

Oban port

I followed the road 78 to the North of Oban, until it run out. There, with the sun out, I made a quick brew and dried all my kit for 30 min. It was such nice weather in Oban that I even thought of delaying my crossing to  Mull a bit more...specially since I knew the weather was not as nice on the island.

Drying the kit in the sun, near Oban

Just before I got on the ferry, I could not resist and bought an smoked salmon sandwich. Really, the best one I've had. If you happened to be in Oban, and like salmon, you have to have one of those!

That was quite a lot of smoked salmon!

In Mull things were a little different. Rain was hammering down upon arrival, and it was windy, thus the lack of more pictures. With all my wet gear on, I spent some time trying to decide which route to take. On the one hand it was the A849 towards Tobermory. On the other, if I made a left turn, I could reach as far as Fionnphort and perhaps the Isle of Iona?

Decisions, right to Tobermory, or left to Fionnphort?

The weather was truly horrendous in Craignure, but I had heard many good things of this island, that I thought it would be a waste not to circumnavigate it, in two days. I asked in the local shop about the road and its lumpiness. The local said it was ok. I had a piece of cake and got ready. So there I was, pedalling towards Fionnphort, in the wind and heavy rain.

The road was really scenic, but it had a little problem I was not aware of before I set off. The isle of Iona is a  tourist magnet, and because it is within reach of Oban as a day trip (by bus, that is!), plenty of tourists get on buses to go visit it. The road is narrow, but has plenty of passing places along it. At some point, after the thirteenth bus headed for Craignure had gone past, I gave up counting them. 

Rain stopped for 30 s, and I shot away. On my way to Fionnphort

If you intend to visit this part of the world, I would encourage to avoid the "tourist bus" rush hour. Surely, the go there in the morning, and return at about 5 pm, which is when I was in the middle of my route to Fionnphort. Apart from that, the road was beautiful, despite the persistent crap weather.

The rain/wind started to get in to one of my eyes. The glasses did not seem enough, and so plenty of water and a combination of sweat and dirt coming from my hair/helmet, seemed to be making their way straight into my right eye. I cannot tell you how unpleasant (not to say painful!) this was, but I really felt miserable. I cycled most of the remaining 30-40 km with only my left eye opened. Until the same happened to my left eye.

Dusk was approaching and the weather did not seem to want to improve. It was time to turn all the lights on, and just keep bloody pedalling to Fionnphort. I was making very slow progress, and had already given up on catching the last ferry to Iona. Not that I really wanted to visit this island, but at some point I thought it could be cool to camp there?

Bus sheltering away from the rain and wind

When I got the intersection with the B3035, the road to Loch Na Keal, I got into a random bus shelter that had been put there just for me. Oh well, it turns out it is also a famous shelter in local Scottish audaxes. So I made use of it. I simply rested. I was so miserable, pretty much blind in the right eye, and soon on the left. I wanted to call Lucy for some moral support, but my mobile had no reception.

Ate a chocolate bar whilst shivering in the shelter overlooking the mountains. Back on the road, I had another 30 or so km to Fionnphort. Mull was proving challenging, and bigger than I had anticipated! I just pressed on, only with one functioning eye, and told myself to apply rule number 5. I really thought it would have been a nice ride on a dry day, but this was getting to my nerves, and it was getting quite dark. 

The glasses were not doing me any good, so took them off eventually. The last few km to the campsite, which of course, was not in Fionnphort itself but in Fidden, were painful, into a very strong southerly wind. 

I was glad I reached the reception by 7 pm, totally shattered, shivering and ready for some hot food and sleep. 

Now, the other problem. The wind. It was surely blowing to at least 80 km/h. I asked the landlady if I could pitch behind some rocky formations near the reception, but she said that it was not allowed as it was someone else's propertiy. So there I was, with a few tents blown away already, in the campsite, at dark, trying to find a pitch that was a bit sheltered. I had no idea if my Wild Country Zephyros 1 tent could cope with the Scottish weather... I could not see any standing tents, either.

Luckily though, there were some caravans, and one of them said it was ok to pitch near them if I needed to. They surely saw me a bit desperate. Quickly pitched my tent and rushed to the toilet block, where I had one of the most pleasant showers I remember... As I was leaving the toilet to the comforts of my tent, the caravan owners I had just spoken to, brought me a massive flask of boiling water! I was so grateful for that, as it meant not faffing with the stove in the wild weather!

The following morning

I made a double pot of cous-cous, tea and went back to the toilet block to check on my eye. It did not look good - it was quite inflammed and perhaps about to get an infection. Unfortunately, I confirmed on the GPS that there were no pharmacies nearby that I could go to in the morning...the nearest one was in Tobermory, and that looked quite far away. To my surprise, also, on this campsite I met up with the couple from Yorkshire, who invited me to their tiny caravan to some tea... I had to refuse. I was in no state to engage in any conversation, so told them I would have it in the morning, and went to sleep, in the crazy winds and rain that Mull had prepared for me.

I just only hoped that my eye allowed me to continue on the following morning, and that wind/rain had calmed down in a few hours.

The stats for the day:

- Odometer: 120.4 km

- Average speed: 17 km/h

- Moving time: about 7 hours

- Max speed: 60 km/h

Western Scotland and Isles tour day 2: Kildonan (Arran) to Crinan

I had a very good night's sleep, if a bit too warm at times. The sleeping bag (rated to -10C!) had proven way too warm, so ended up using it as a duvet sort of thing... The wind had died down by 6 am, when I woke up, and I was gifted with a beautiful morning down at the campsite. However, no wind, and warmth, in Scotland equals midges!

Morning Arran!

I had been warned, many times, of these little buggers. But this was the very first time that I had seen them, so fearing that they would start eating me, I quickly applied some of the products that other cyclists recommended (Skin So Soft).

By 8:30 am I was all packed up and ready to set off for the day. Lucy's camera was playing up, and one of the batteries was already gone, despite both having been fully charged the day before. Great. I have not brought the charger and I am only on day 2...and where on the Scottish isles am I going to find a charge that suits her batteries? Oh well, I had no choice now.

Low tide at Kildonan

Just before getting on my bike, I met another couple who were travelling in a little van from Yorkshire. Funnily enough, they had been doing the same route as me, and their plans were similar, with about the same mileage. I asked them to wave at me if they saw me on the roads, wished them a good trip and off I went round the coast.

After Kildonan bay, I had to climb back up to get on to the A841. By 10 am I arrived in Blackwaterfoot, my original stop for the day before, where I spotted a rather large group of people looking totally pissed at the local pub. I looked at my watch and confirmed that it was still minutes past 10 am! How can you be drunk so early?

The road to Lochranza

From here on the road undulated until I got back to sea level. It was completely quiet and really scenic. Without pressing on that much, I made it to Lochranza by 11 am. My ferry was only due at noon, so went into town, had a look around and ended up at a café having a hot drink.

Shore near Lochranza

Nice café

While waiting at the café eating some local produce, I saw a couple of road cyclists going anticlockwise. It really is not that far from Glasgow, so I suppose you could technically come to Arran for a day? Other than those guys and a couple of Dutch cyclists, I had not seen many other cyclists, yet.

This kind of ferry crossing is common in the West of Scotland

I was the only cyclist on the ferry, along with a few other cars. Once back on the mainland (Clonaig), I started the climb on the road 78, and looked behind a couple of times. The views were amazing, and despite some traffic due to the ferry crossing, they all seemed courteous and gave me plenty of room to pass on the narrow road, even stopping if necessary.

When I joined the A83, traffic became a little busier as it is the main road from Campbeltown. However, it was nicely paved and wide, so I made good progress and got to Tarbet in no time. I recall reading that that was a town worth visiting, and given that the sun was shinning, I diverted a little and had a look around to find a souvenir thimble to add to my mum's collection.

At Tarbert, still rather warm and dry

While eating some food by the port, another cyclist came around. He was doing a two-day trip, staying at B & Bs, covering quite a lot of miles, and carrying one little pannier only. Another way of touring!

Back on the road and soon on to the road 78 that goes around the peninsula, I enjoyed quite a scenic few miles. Nearly no traffic, but despite what I had read on travel forums, the road does not actually quite follow the seaside, but goes inland so the views are rather limited.  However, once I got past Kilberry, it all became clear of trees and the views were fantastic. The Isle of Jura was clearly visible a few miles in the background.

On road 78, the Isle of Jura in the background

Route 78

A bit of wildlife!

There was a nice campsite at Kilberry, according to a holidaymaker I found on the road, but it was still too early and I wanted to carry on enjoying a nice ride in the warmth and sun. I had already covered up 100 km, and was feeling fresh.

Leaving Loch Caolisport on my left, I climbed some 250 m of steep road. The downhill back down to the A83 was amazing, really fast, and with a nice tarmac. Once on the A83, I pressed on to Lochgilphead, some sort of big-ish town (for this part of the world standards) where I briefly pulled into the local campsite. By the looks of it, I was quickly put off - lots of caravans, noise, kids. Not my type. Got some extra water for the night and carried on North along the A83. 

I then joined the B841 (a part of the National Cycle Route 1 apparently) and follow a canal towpath. I kept my eyes open for possible wild camp spots, but could not seem to find many at this point.

Eventually, by 7 pm, I entered a wooded area that looked nice for the night. Put up my tent before it got dark, cooked some food and sealed up my tent: the midges were out! After a short phone call with Lucy, and some journal writing, I soon fell asleep with the sound of some sort of rave going on in the background...

Somewhere near Crinan, looking for a camp spot

Wild-camping for the night

I wanted to press on to Oban on the following day, so aimed for an early start on day 3.

The stats were as below:

Odometer: 137 km

Max Speed: 54 km/h

Time pedalling: 7h 38 min

Time not pedalling: 1h 35 min

Moving average speed: 18 km/h

Keeping toes warm while cycling

It's December. The good news is that it's almost Christmastime! The bad news is that London has been experiencing a colder than average winter thus far, and it isn't even officially winter yet.

Whereas last year there were three weekends in February that we didn't go riding because the temperature had been below freezing overnight and we worried about ice, nights below freezing have been the norm these last few weeks. This has introduced a new barrier to my winter cycling -- cold feet.

Alberto has an uncanny ability to never experience cold (you probably don't want to witness the debates in our house about when to put the heating on!), but I've always been particularly susceptible to it, and especially my feet. In 'average' winter conditions of 6 or 7 C (low 40s F) my feet become uncomfortably cold, but not unbearably so.

However, last weekend I headed out for some Regents Park laps at 2 C (35 F), and my feet were painfully cold from almost the moment I left home. I only cycled for an hour, but an hour was enough to convince me that I really need to find a solution as we have a long winter ahead of us, and the predictions are that we are going to continue to experience a below-average winter.

My system for keeping my feet warm on Saturday was as follows:

• Thick wool socks 
• Sealskinz mid-weight waterproof socks over the wool socks
• Normal cycling shoes (MTB/touring style, mainly leather body)
• Thin plasticky overshoes on top

Now, I know this system isn't perfect. First of all, there is a school of thought that doesn't believe in layering so many socks in a normal cycling shoe as apparently it could restrict blood circulation to your feet. My shoes are on the large side so I don't think it is an issue for me. 

Secondly, the overshoes aren't particularly insulating. I bought them because they were on sale and fit my abnormally large shoes (as in, the shoes are quite bulky as cycling shoes go. My feet are actually on the small size!). But I'm not sure I want to invest in a pair of good overshoes as there doesn't seem to be any consensus that they can actually keep feet dry and warm. 

Despite these shortcomings, however, I was honestly surprised that my feet were so cold so quickly. I  think there must be something else I'm doing wrong. Some googling helped me come up with what I think is the most probable cause: my feet are too cold to begin with. 

Basically, as the internet argument goes, if your feet are borderline cold when you're getting ready for your ride, they have no hope of warming up and will basically just continue to get colder and colder for the duration of the time you're out in the cold. I have no idea if there is any basis in fact for this theory but it resonates with me, because I spend a lot of time with my feet feeling just on the okay side of cold.  That's just the way my feet have always been. 

So now I think I understand the cause of my problems but I don't necessarily have a solution. We don't have a fireplace or space heater that I can use to heat my feet up in advance of a ride, so as far as I can see I have a few options:

• get warmer slippers/socks to wear around the house to try and keep my feet warmer in general
• stick chemical warmers inside my cycling shoes
• Rule Number 5

I haven't yet decided what I'll try next, but in the meantime if you have any suggestions for keeping feet warm while cycling please do let me know in the comments!

Ride report: South Bucks Winter Warmer 200 audax

Another early start, with a train out of town while it was still pitch dark. This time I was headed for Buckinghamshire, where I would be one of 62 starters on a cold December day.

The forecasts were for cold temperatures, possibly below 0 degrees celsius overnight, which implies the possibility of ice on the roads. That put off quite a lot of people, but still, 62 of us set off at 8 am. Quite impressive. Terry, the organiser, had put together a ride that was a good example of excellent value for money: £5 for a eat-as-much-as-you-want breakfast, and even more hot food at the finish!

Initially heading South, I tried to stick with the fast guys, but after pushing hard, I never managed to actually get to their group. It seemed pointless to try and keep them in sight, so ended up relaxing a bit. Eventually I got together with a guy on fixed wheel for the first half of the route.

2 min before the off

The roads were not bad, traffic-wise, as it was still early in the morning, but the ice was always in our minds. Although we did not encounter much, on a couple of shady sections (luckily uphill ones) my wheels slipped a little, yet not causing any trouble. Both my companion and I started taking it really easy on every turn though, and especially downhills.

At the first control (60 km into the ride) I got some quick snacks and pressed on to Alton. The following km were possible the best of the whole route, not flat, but not too lumpy. Really great lanes as we entered Hampshire, certainly much better than those of Oxfordshire and Buckinghamshire.

 I started to feel a bit weak and stomach pain made its routine appearance. I told my companion not to wait for me, and I carried on on my own. A few miles before Alton, the route called for the busy B3400, which yet a B road, was not pleasant at that time of the day. We know there are riders who are confident and don't mind (or actually love!) main roads. Also, I thought why people drive at 3 pm on a Saturday? Isn't it siesta time? Anyway, it just did not feel right to be on such roads so tried to press on so as to get those miles out quickly. Back on the lanes and onto Alton it was lovely countryside.

Some lovely lanes in between sections of not so busy nice roads

Once in Alton I stopped for some food and had to rush to the toilet. After feeling a lot better, fed and hydrated, I continued on the next section. A long-ish hill just after Alton was next, which was a good warm up. The sun was shinning though, and I overheated a bit, despite it being surely near 2 degrees C. Progress on the lanes was good. On some of the fields I began to see people standing with fancy camera gear and equipment, staring at nothing. Weird I thought at first. A few minutes later, I saw a lovely steam train making an appearance through the farmlands, with its massive tail of stem! Later on I learnt it was the Princess Elizabeth.

The Princess Elizabeth as taken from http://www.cheddington.org.uk/

A few mile later though, I had one of the most random and off-putting sights of my time in the UK. While coming down a rolling hill, I started hearing something that sounded like gun shots. Not that I've ever heard many since I used to go mountain-biking on the Madrid hills, but I was quite confident it was something along those lines. I was right. A whole bunch of guys where shooting with their big rifles to what looked like man-shaped targets. Was it real? What kind of ammo were they using? I was about to go past the hedges, meters in front of them!

Fortunately, nothing more than gravel got splashed at me (or little bits of something). Surely they were not using real ammo, but I left thinking...what the hell!?!? I was on my own, so could not discuss with anyone, but freaked out all the same. 5 min later I saw another unsual sight, which answered one of my long-standing questions that only emerges while out riding: who cuts all the hedges on both sides of the quiet lanes? See below...

Hedge trimmer tractor similar to the one I saw

GPS indicated a few more minutes before the sunset was due, so without delay I tried to cover as much km as possible before temperatures dropped back down to around freezing. Yet again, a sudden stomach pain called for another impromptu stop at a pub.

Night navigation was easy, along some lanes on our way back up to the start. But because we went near Reading, traffic was quite heavy and sometimes intimidating. I should remind myself of avoiding rides that go so close to big towns, or as it seems, to the West of London.

With some 40 km to go, it was totally dark, so still on my own and with no people visible in the front or back, I continued along the B3030 for a while. Although a nice rolling road, traffic was still bad. Being dark and still on busy roads was not pleasant, so only hoped to get back to the lanes, which I eventually did.

Ford, apparently up to the 1.5 m last week due to bad floodings in the West. Luckily down to "only" 0.5 m now

I was making good progress to get on the earlier train back to London, but another urgent visit to the toilet caused a bit of a delay yet again. Some riders went past me, and I eventually decided to give up on catching the early train and relaxed a bit towards the last 20 km or so.

Unfortunately, the last 15 km were again on ridiculously busy and fast roads, which I did not enjoy. The A4010 was specially bad, and eventually made it to the finish with a bit of a bad feeling about the whole ride.

Although it did have some very pleasant sections, particularly towards the Oxfordshire and Hampshire areas, I felt a lot of the time we spent on fast, busy roads. The organiser, his wife and helpers were extremely nice though, and the service they provided was amongst the best I've come to enjoy on audaxes. And all for a mere fiver. But the route does need some improvement in my opinion. Surely, the route is not mandatory, and you could take to the lanes, but with the abundance of quiet roads in that area, I think things can be bettered in future years.

After a much needed hot meal of chilli con carne, bread, and rice pudding, I gave my feedback to the organisers and thanked them for putting out a good ride. They assured me that other riders had suggested route changes on the busier sections as well, so I might reconsider coming back if this appeals in future rides.

I managed to loose all the ride stats, but overall I finished it in 10 h and 22 min, which considering all the (toilet) stopping was not too bad. It had also been my longest winter ride to date, and luckily it seems that I got my stuff right, including the layers. With a long base layer, a short jersey, winter jacket, wool socks, winter socks, shorts, leg warmers, head/neck buffs, and thick winter gloves with liners, I never felt cold or uncomfortable. Food and drink were also ok despite the stomach problems. We rode for about 205 km, and the rolling average must have been about 24 km/h.

Next long ride won't be until January. Still trying to decide whether to DIY it or do a perm, as none of the calendar appeal much. Will see...