Another beautiful
day, awakening to blue skies and no wind to speak of too. Staying at a campsite
was welcome too, as I was able to do some washing and enjoy a semi-hot shower
too. Another benefit was an excellent cooked breakfast – cooked by a little old
lady who ran the campsite food trailer-van. She was a friendly lady who not
only gave me an extra cup of free coffee, but also helped me with my route
planning; giving me advice on the best route towards the southern shore of Loch
Ness. In the end I didn’t follow her advice and instead opted to swing by the
centre of Inverness and then pick up the old military road that ran alongside
the south side of Loch Ness. Time was of the essence though, as I didn’t really
want a repeat of the previous day; whereby I’d still been on the road well
after dark – I still didn’t set off from the campsite till 11am though, finding
it difficult to get going – maybe a heavy breakfast wasn’t such a good idea
after all?. The road along the southern edge of Loch Ness, away from Inverness wasn’t
as flat as expected, undulating as it left the close shore and headed directly
south. 
I came to a village called Foyers after a very steep ascent,
during which my left knee started to hurt quite a bit, and stocked up on
refreshments and a magnum ice-cream – rocket fuel for a weary cyclist! The
assistant in the village store told me about what was to come over the next few
miles, and it sounded tough – when a local says that it’s not too bad because
you have a “long and steep downhill to look forward to” after the climb, then
you know you’re in for something brutal…at least that was generally my
experience. As it happens the road wasn’t brutal so much as just very long and
unrelenting. I eventually reached the high point, a spot of some 400 metres,
where I took a quick break – there wasn’t much of a view though, as the clouds
were pretty low and it was cold too. There were plenty of tourists out and about
though, and to my utter embarrassment I managed to fall off my bike whilst
completely stationary – two men came to help me get up, and untangled from my
bike, and once free of the weight of the fully laden bike I was soon off again
–very embarrassing though!
The descent into Fort Augustus was very, very steep. My
brakes did a fantastic job of slowing me down at times though, as though I
would have liked to descend quicker, it just didn’t seem particularly safe,
especially with panniers bouncing around all over the place! The trouble with
fast descents is that they are often down beautiful, narrow and shady roads –
usually not in the best of repair either – and the idea of hitting a large
pothole at 40 miles an hour isn’t a very nice one! So, squeezed brakes are the
order of the day – thank goodness for disc brakes too!!
In the Fort Augustus area I was passed several times by a
trio of expensive sports cars (Lamborghinis’ and porsches) being put through
their paces – the drivers were particularly juvenile and idiotic though,
insisting on dipping their clutches and revving their engines, just to give me
a scare. I saw them again a few miles later; they’d stopped at a country hotel
and I could hear their braying voices from afar, and as I watched them take out
their weekend travel bags I toyed with the idea of keying each of their hideous
cars – before thinking better of it and carrying on my way.
From Fort Augustus I was forced to join the A82, a road that
I had been told was narrow and dangerous for cyclists, however there wasn’t any
alternative at all. The road however, was great! Plenty wide enough, with a
cycle lane/hard shoulder for much of it, and along a great surface with no
holes! Best of all it was gently downhill, which was especially great as my left
knee was now throbbing with each uphill pedal stroke, and I was quite worried
about it!
I stopped for more supplies at a tiny petrol station at
Invergarry near the shore of Loch Oich and enquired what the road was like to
Spean Bridge and then beyond to Fort William – I couldn’t quite believe it when
he told me that it was all downhill! I’d expected the opposite, and had fears
about making it much further without some sort of support for my weakened knee.
This was great news though, and I felt a renewed sense of energy as I pedalled
away downhill.
Loch Lochy was the next loch I came to along the Great Glens
– another stretch of beautiful road and even more beautiful scenery – the
mountains in that area were really stunning, and I could really see why they
are so photographed – here!
I reached Spean Bridge by 19:30 after first visiting the
Commando Memorial. The memorial is a very well-known and photographed and again
my mind turned to getting more supplies – the calories needed to do something
as simple as sit on a bike for 9 or 10 hours each day is quite staggering, and
I definitely underestimated quite how hungry I would get. I also found that I
craved sweet things even more than usual – especially coke, which I don’t
normally like very much, and so avoid, but vanilla coke became a new addiction.
Supplies bought, along with new batteries, I quickly made my way towards Fort
William, stopping only to tighten the quick release on my front forks, which
had worked its way loose after several days of gravelly and bumpy roads.
Once in the outskirts of Fort William I tried in vain to
find a shop that sold support bandages for my knee. I didn’t find anything
suitable but was at least pointed in the direction of a spot to wild camp for
the night by a friendly local, out walking his dog. I passed a group of teenage
girls on their way into town for the night, the luminous blonde hair of each
and every one of them was a surreal sight, and they each in turn said hello –
that made me laugh to myself, as the insecurities and one-upmanship of
teenagers will, I think, never change! My wild camp site was found without
incident at the far end of a rugby pitch, far enough away from casual
passers-by and I was again soon set up and ready to turn in for the night,
after chatting with my wife, Alice, as was customary each night.
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