Booking the train from Durham to Inverness, on a cusp of the moment decision a few months before departure, everything seemed straightforward. Finishing work at 5pm on Saturday, riding up to the station to catch the 17.32 from Durham to Newcastle, then the 18.00 from Newcastle to Edinburgh and then the connection from Edinburgh to inverness. Little did I know, the trains decided to run a few minutes too late, but luckily, all of the delays synched and somehow I found myself lifting my bike onto the platform at Inverness train station just after 11pm on a Saturday night.
Making sure my high vis was vis, my lights were on and I knew which way to turn out of the station, I headed right, then quickly turned around in the other direction, my computer disagreed with my choice. Having never visited Inverness before, I think my first sights of the city at 11pm on a Saturday were slightly tainted with the usual sights of a city at this time of night on a weekend. Nevertheless, it wasn’t such a long ride to the start at Inverness Castle. Orange flood lights shone on the castle, giving a warm glow to the start of the ride. Taking a few snaps and sending a few messages home to check in, the clock just passed 11.30pm and off I went.
Navigating through the city was relatively straightforward with the GPS and I was onto dark roads in no time. The weather was good, unseasonably warm and next to no wind. Is this Scotland? Passing through villages with old guys waiting for taxis outside of pubs, the looks I got were mostly confused, or more likely they couldn’t give a monkeys as a few pints down, they just wanted sleep. Stopping to take a few layers off (yes, still Scotland) I took stock and got prepared for a ride through the night and into the next day. With this being my first night ride, I was excited and no nerves had started to creep in yet. The speed was good and the road perfect. On the GPS, I zoomed out and could see I was riding by water, and every now and then I got a gush of warm air coming from the water. After 3-4 hours, the larger road turned into smaller single track roads all the way to the infamous belach na baa pass. Excited at the prospect of riding this at night, I rarely stopped. Then, seeing a sign with deer on it, my mind started to think. Although I knew that deer were in this part of the world, it did not occur to me that they would cause much of an issue to me while riding through the highlands at night. Little did I know. After the first sign, no deer were in sight for around 20 mile or so, then eyes. The light on the front of my bike is pretty bright, and it shone straight into a pair of eyes. Hesitant, I started to ease off the pedals and slow down. Getting closer, it was a deer, and a very large one a that. The light on the bike shone on this magnificent red deer, with some equally impressive (ly frightening) antlers to match. The deer turned around, beginning to run 5 meters ahead of me, it then tripped over, I slowed down even more, almost to a stop, then it got back up and bolted to the right and off the road. I then heard some galloping to the left of me, how many deer were watching this? I quickly rode on, and increased my pace. I just hoped the deer wasn’t injured at all.
The time was about 2am, and this was me for the rest of the first night, pushing on, rarely stopping, figuring out what to do if a deer ran into the side of me, and listening to the steps of deer either side of me, but not seeing another one all night.
Getting to around 4am, I turned off a major road, over a cattle grid and started to climb. This was the start of the Belach na baa pass. I had read about it and heard of people riding over it, but never been in this part of the world to attempt it myself. No better time than 4am on a Sunday morning. Climbing hills at night is strange. In some ways I think it makes the climb easier, it takes the knowledge of what is ahead away, therefore you focus on the present, and don’t worry about how hard it looks further up the hill. The climb was tough, but I took it easy, seeing no cars or people, only a few sheep, I stopped on the hairpins to try and get a photo, but the night was too dark. Cresting the top, the sky started to get brighter, and the first signs of daylight were emerging. Looking over to Skye in this light was a privilege. I felt miles from anywhere, riding through the night was worth this one moment. I stopped at the top, took stock of where I was and just relaxed for a few minutes.
Then the decent. With day becoming ever brighter, I could ease off the brakes evermore the further down the decent I got. With sweeping corners, this decent was spectacular. Speeds were high and miles ticking along nicely. Down into Applecross, I took a right and started the route along the west coast, which I would be hugging for the next 150 mile or so. Passing parked up campervans, I imagined them opening the van doors and making coffee, lying in bed, looking over the sea to Skye, what a perfect place to wake up.
With a slight head/side wind coming in off the coast, progress was slow, but the scenery was perfect. Tiredness was at bay, my mind on the road, mountains and sea. The next 50 mile or so came and went, with not much to report. Plenty of motorhomes and motorbikes! With around 20 miles to go to Ullapool, the smaller coastal road joined an A road, taking a left onto this was a 2/3 mile decent on smooth roads. This was well needed, but the lack of pedalling started to take toll on my tiredness, and I could feel my eyes getting smaller. It was 1pm by this point, but I had been riding for around 13 hours and not slept for over 30 hours. I needed sleep. The plan was to ride 250 miles in the first 24 hours, but by the time I got to Ullapool, the rain started to fall nearly as heavy as my eyes.
Searching around for somewhere to stay the night, the youth hostel was shut. I just caught the tourist information, and the very helpful woman phoned around some b & b’s and hotels and soon enough, I was checking in to a hotel with a warm bed. Shower, nap and clean clothes saw me wandering around town searching for food. Double chips with a veggie burger and too much food from the supermarket took me back to bed around 8 and I slept through till 6 the next morning.
Monday morning, 300 miles to go and 30 hours to finish. Was I over estimating how far I could ride in one stint, most likely yes. The first 50 miles was again, stunning. Open highland with red deer curiously watching me pass. The good thing about travelling by bike is that the wildlife is more accommodating to bikes over cars, so they aren’t scared off as quickly. This allows you to see deer up close, something you wouldn’t necessarily get in a car.
The next 50 mile had a lot of short, steep climbs. This is where the 39, 28 gearing was not the best of ideas. Especially with bags. Knees starting to ache, I pulled over at the top of the climb to have some food and rest for 10 minutes or so. The weather was on and off drizzle most of the day, constant changing of clothing. With about 20 miles to Durness and the north coast, the road opened up and involved around 10 mile of ascent, followed by a long 10 mile descent to the coast. The climb was steady, and motorbikes plenty. The descent was perfect, long, straight and no pedalling was needed. The rest well needed. Running low on food and water, I stopped in Durness to refuel and stock up for the rest of the day. With over 100 mile ridden and 200 to go, legs were feeling surprisingly good and tiredness had not yet started to set in. Lucozade drank and salted crisps scoffed, I was off again. Now heading East along the top of Scotland, the wind was ever changing, but seemed to be mostly in my face. The roads were now single track and although not too busy with traffic, there were a few motorhomes and supercars that stared to get annoying. The next 75 mile or so were uneventful, and my aim was Thurso, to stop for a good meal, before heading off into the night.
Making decent time, I got there around 8pm, found a Chinese takeaway with a little seating area, perfect. The owner just seemed happy to have a customer on a quiet Monday night, so he went out of his way to help, giving me too much food and extra freebies after I told him where I was cycling to that night. He told the kitchen staff my plans, and they came out with more veggie spring rolls, packaged up for me to take for midnight snacks. Farewells and good lucks, I left around 9pm into the dark, heading for John O’Groats, which was around 25 miles away. The rain started to come down as the darkness set in for the night. Spirits were still high with a belly full of rice and veg. Reaching John O’Groats just before 11pm was great. No one in sight and peace. The last time I visited here was about 8 years ago, finishing a LEJOG ride, but it was packed. This was more my kind of thing. Obligatory photo of the sign to London and New York, I hid in a bus shelter, drank a coke and ate half of the veggie spring rolls, which still had some warmth. I started to feel tired pedalling past a hotel, I imagined myself curling up into warm clean sheet. But no, that was for tomorrow night.
With about 120 miles to Inverness and the finish line, I had around 12 hours to catch the train. All south from here, but maybe I was underestimating how far 120mile was, especially overnight, with a headwind and after 180 miles already covered that day. Anyway, I rolled out and joined the A9, which would take me all the way to the finish. Planning to ride the last part at night was the right idea, only seeing 4 or 5 cars for about 5 hours was much better than attempting to tackle the busy road during the day. The going was reasonably fast, trying to keep my average at about 15mph was not too difficult as the road was fast at the wind quite low. Tiredness was still at bay, but it wasn’t far away. Having never ridden a whole day and through the same night, this was a test to see how my body would cope. Not just the physical part of riding, but the mental side of sleep deprivation. The road started to rise and fall, not so steep but gradual. Climbing at night, your senses are limited. How far to the top? What are through those trees? How steep is it? I actually prefer to climb at night. I’m starting to enjoy the climbs as it breaks the constant riding of the flat. Getting out of the saddle, weaving from one side to the other. The deer sign at the side of the road quickened my pace slightly, not really wanting a repeat of the first night. No deer was sighted, although I imagined eyes following me from the forests lining the roads.
After a long, windy descent where I struggled to stay on the bike the wind was that strong, I sheltered in a bus stop to finish off the last of my Chinese at around 3am. This was the crunch time. Tiredness had arrived and hit me hard. I was close to taking 20 minutes in the bus stop, but I had to keep pushing on if I was to catch my train midday from Inverness, with still about 80 miles to go. The speed dropped significantly and saddle sores were so bad that comfort was not found on the saddle, standing up was the only option. When the sun started to rise about 4.30/ 5, the change in the sky brought my tiredness to a crucial point. I started to feel my eyes close. I started to shake my head to stay awake. Then the hallucinations started. I had read about sleep deprived hallucinations, but never thought I would be able to stay awake long enough to experience anything like that. Little workmen in high vis, with pick axes were running along side me and digging up the road. Was this real? Looking back now of course it wasn’t, but at the time I was questioning my mind. Then otters started to run out in front of me, this was another trick my mind was playing on me, earlier seeing a sign warning of otters. But my hallucinations saw a sea of them on the road. I got off the bike. Very close to sitting down, I refrained as I knew if I did, I would be asleep instantly. I jumped around to try and wake my self up. Took a few caffeine tablets and ate some food. This worked, but not for very long.
That last 50 miles of the ride was a constant battle with not falling asleep. Singing the words to songs that I didn’t know I knew all the words to, how certain songs come back to you from nowhere. Forgetting my headphones for this trip saw me spend a lot of time with my own head, which wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Playing games with myself to keep my mind active worked, but the miles were slow. At around 7am the traffic started to arrive and this brought another danger. Tired, tired, tired, with traffic does not go well. I knew how dangerous this was, but for some reason I kept riding. The last 20 mile or so were probably the slowest I have ridden for years. The last 5 mile, I had a tailwind and I found a last wind that got my back to Inverness Castle just after 10am! Taking around 58 hours 30minutes, it was a bit slower than I had planned, but I made it early for the train, and overall was pleased with my first attempt at an overnight ride. Now knowing my limits, I could go to Ireland knowing these, and not pushing them to the extreme that I had in Scotland.
With a couple of hours to spare before the train, food. I pedalled through town, locked the bike up and jumped into a McDonalds. 2 breakfasts ordered, I sat down, and while eating my head dropped and I started to fall asleep. The old man sat next to me gave me some funny looks, but I can’t imagine what I looked like, not pretty.
Train home, my eyes told the story at work the next morning.
Jordan Matthews 