Dover Durness Day 10: Nigg to Durness

Distance today        94 miles in 6hrs 43mins
Height Climbed      3737 feet burning 2487 Kcal

Distance so Far       857 Miles  in  63hrs 53mins
Height Climbed      34,923 Feet Burning 23497 Kcal

The last day has arrived. I’ve had a weather eye to this day since we started. It can be just an ordinary summers day, but a bit cooler than I am used to, or 50mph winds in torrential rain. The latter had been the case two weeks before and I was a touch concerned that the cycle would repeat at just the wrong time.

I started from Nigg, the other side of the mouth of the Cromarty Firth. I didn’t take the ferry, as it can be somewhat unpredictable, as to if it is running and the timetable. It had been running yesterday, and was rolling nicely on the swell. I really wouldn’t like to try to get a car on or off it.

The initial road was quite quick, through an industrial area and large oil tanks. I joined the A9 for the first of two short times, and claimed the area to the left of the white line as mine. A couple of miles and I turned off through Tain to rejoin the A9.

I was pushing slowly into the wind, when for the first time in the ride I was passed by two other cyclists. I jumped on the back wheel and was doing 19mph into the wind. All too soon they turned north with the A9 as I took the side road towards Bonar Bridge. I asked them if they could be persuaded to go to Durness, but apparently not.

 With much less traffic now, and trees to break the wind, I headed North West with the railway beside the road to keep me company. Past Bonar Bridge and onto a side road. Here I passed a post man in his red van. He was walking up to a house, a few minutes later he was passing me, and stopping to deliver. We carried on this merry game with passing and repassing until we came to the railway station and a group of houses. It not fair playing a game when only one of the two people in it knows they are playing, but I beat him fair and square.

I knew that I had to cross the river to the A road, but couldn’t see how. Sustrans had provided another novelty. This time two flights of metal steps approached down a narrow grass track. The steps lead to a metal platform part way down a cast iron railway bridge high above the river. Then more steps to the road. I carried my bike. If laden with bags I could see several trips up and down to get it all over.

As soon as I got onto the A road I was treated to one of the days spoilers. A group of performance cars moving quickly close together came towards me and on down the hill. I encountered several groups during the day. Miles from anywhere, eager to push pass, and move on. One group passed me uphill on a blind bend, on the other side of the road.

On the other hand the man in the historic Porsche was very polite.

Passing through Lairg I continued north then turned northwest on a single track A Road. Sustrans route 1 was straight on and went to John O’Groats, I was off to the other corner. The bike Sat Nav said turn right in 38 miles. I don’t think that happens on a bicycle too often, 38 miles and one road.

In effect I rode up a valley to the top for maybe 25 miles then down another to the coast. There were a series of reservoirs that powered hydroelectric schemes and much of the time I was close to the shore. There were sporadic houses, a hotel and a café. No sheep, no cows, just grass and trees. The road was busier than I expected, not hard as I expected nothing. There were a few tourists, a couple of groups of performance cars eager to be on their way, Passepartout and me. The wind was light but in my face, it was sunny and 14C. How lucky was I?

The descent took me into a geological park. Evidence of glaciation was everywhere. So pretty, so hard, so remote yet so many cars parked up.

Laxford Bridge marked the right turn, now 21 miles to the end.

There is plenty of time to think:

Denise had said this will be your last long distance ride. At first I took offence, 4 days ago I agreed, today I can ride forever. Maybe just not so far tomorrow though. Having a fixed destination for the day can make it harder it seems. I had meet and chatted to other cyclists coming towards me or going the other way. They were just drifting. They had a destination, but were making it up on the way. I don’t think this is my last multi-day ride. Maybe not so far next time.

I don’t have a bucket list, but if I did, this ride would be on it. It was a childhood dream and I was about to complete it.

One last hill. Somehow the wind had turned to a tailwind and pushed me up and over the ridge. Downhill, tracking Passepartout who passed my just before the top. She was not getting away on this downhill.

We finished at a beach in the top left hand corner. There was a cemetery to the rear and Britain’s most northerly (mainland) golf course. The sun was shining, it was warm, and there were no midges. A great place to end. The bee and I sat on a wall and looked back at the hill we had climbed. The view was good.