Didn't he drop his phone on the road once which caused him issues on one trip? Maybe something like that has happened.
Another solar trailer tall tale
- Thread starter matthewslack
- Start date
And there he was, back, as though nothing had happened...!
@cyclebuddy, thanks for your concern, all is well, just a run of camps without 4G and lots of paths crossing and recrossing with other cyclists on their adventures, and much chatting rather than typing, so I am rather behind.
A lot has happened since I was in Gairloch! I had just disconnected one panel, and I ran on two for two days, the first full sun all day, and the other the heaviest cloud of the trip by far.
Needless to say, the sunny day went just fine, with the battery never under 40V, no matter the length or steepness of hills, until the very end of the day. I had stopped thinking about energy management until, unexpectedly, the Shimano battery dropped from three to two bars. It didn't take long for the penny to drop: after a leisurely ride around the Wester Ross coast to Braemore junction, and a blast at full beans down the busy A835 into Ullapool for food and fuel shopping, I had my sights set on a patch of grass I used last year another 15 or so miles along. It now being 8pm, and the road being directly into the sun, I was shading the whole solar trailer, so running at high power on battery only. I quickly found a nice open patch of grass and set up the trailer pointing at the sun for maximum charge until the sun went down.
A really good day's ride, overlapping with three groups that I first saw on Lochcarron.
First the two intrepid ladies celebrating a birthday, who were about to leave a vast layby just as I arrived, the place I was plied with tea and given red reflective tape by van ladies last year. This is just before the long fast descent into Dundonnel, and the long climb back up to Braemore junction. I paused a while, giving them a head start, and passed them on the climb.
Then the group of four who I met properly for the first time the next day, so more about their adventure later. They were paused in a layby from where walkers climb An Teallach.
And finally the three young men from Glasgow, in a layby with a great view towards Ullapool, who were on a mission to reach the seafood shack before it's 6pm closing time, with 90 minutes and 14 miles in the equation.
I was after the Captain's Cabin hardware store for meths stove fuel, hoping they were open after 5pm. Strawberries were also successfully acquired from out back in Tesco, there being none on the shelves, courtesy of very helpful young staff members.
And then my brain fade on the way to camp!
A very nice lunch stop, overlooking the inner part of Gruinard bay.
Looking north to distant mountains.
I do like the shots that show the direct connection between my personal sun and my trailer.
Stac Pollaidh from below, always impressive.
Evening charging, with long shadows!
@cyclebuddy, thanks for your concern, all is well, just a run of camps without 4G and lots of paths crossing and recrossing with other cyclists on their adventures, and much chatting rather than typing, so I am rather behind.
A lot has happened since I was in Gairloch! I had just disconnected one panel, and I ran on two for two days, the first full sun all day, and the other the heaviest cloud of the trip by far.
Needless to say, the sunny day went just fine, with the battery never under 40V, no matter the length or steepness of hills, until the very end of the day. I had stopped thinking about energy management until, unexpectedly, the Shimano battery dropped from three to two bars. It didn't take long for the penny to drop: after a leisurely ride around the Wester Ross coast to Braemore junction, and a blast at full beans down the busy A835 into Ullapool for food and fuel shopping, I had my sights set on a patch of grass I used last year another 15 or so miles along. It now being 8pm, and the road being directly into the sun, I was shading the whole solar trailer, so running at high power on battery only. I quickly found a nice open patch of grass and set up the trailer pointing at the sun for maximum charge until the sun went down.
A really good day's ride, overlapping with three groups that I first saw on Lochcarron.
First the two intrepid ladies celebrating a birthday, who were about to leave a vast layby just as I arrived, the place I was plied with tea and given red reflective tape by van ladies last year. This is just before the long fast descent into Dundonnel, and the long climb back up to Braemore junction. I paused a while, giving them a head start, and passed them on the climb.
Then the group of four who I met properly for the first time the next day, so more about their adventure later. They were paused in a layby from where walkers climb An Teallach.
And finally the three young men from Glasgow, in a layby with a great view towards Ullapool, who were on a mission to reach the seafood shack before it's 6pm closing time, with 90 minutes and 14 miles in the equation.
I was after the Captain's Cabin hardware store for meths stove fuel, hoping they were open after 5pm. Strawberries were also successfully acquired from out back in Tesco, there being none on the shelves, courtesy of very helpful young staff members.
And then my brain fade on the way to camp!
A very nice lunch stop, overlooking the inner part of Gruinard bay.
Looking north to distant mountains.
I do like the shots that show the direct connection between my personal sun and my trailer.
Stac Pollaidh from below, always impressive.
Evening charging, with long shadows!
And so to the grey day!
A late start as no point rushing. For most of the day, the two connected panels were producing 50W or less, and I consume on average 100 to 150. So a day run largely on battery, which thanks to the sunny previous evening started at a healthy 40.5V.
The main objective of the day was the 'mad little road', which is the twisty, hilly coast road north and south of Lochinver. The south part from my camp was simple enough, just 12 miles to all the attractions of Lochinver.
First the basics from Spar, then the famous Lochinver Larder pie shop for savoury and sweet pies to die for, and then my favourite pottery just around the bay: Highland Stoneware, whose colourful, hand painted mugs have been my tea vessel of choice for many years.
Then the first few miles northward to the view looking south over Clachtoll for lunch. Pie, obviously, with tea in my new mug.
I had to bypass this section last year as my 9 speed gears would not have managed the many chevrons on the OS map. Even my 11 speed 51T bottom gear was on its limits on the final climb out, but I managed.
By this time voltage was under 38V, which is the level where any high power riding will cause the solar battery to sag, and start drawing from the higher quality cells in the Shimano battery, so I had resigned myself to a really short day. As soon as I rejoined the main road, I was looking for a camping spot, and by the time I reached the Kylesku bridge I was getting a bit nervous, with only 40 miles covered, albeit on two panels only.
But then a bit of blue appeared in the west sky, and by the time I had ridden up to the viewpoint, I had full sun. It took until 5pm! So an hour and a half drinking tea and shepherding cars away from my shading zone, and the third panel reconnected, had me in much better shape. Good enough for another 9 miles to my second proper campsite of the trip at Scourie.
And here the group of four make their first real appearance. Two were waiting in the campsite entrance, with the others some distance back. These three Hungarian and one Swedish young women were riding the North Coast 500, and in common with the many other groups doing the same thing, had a right old logistical challenge finding accommodation for just one night at rideable distances apart.
As my day was ending at 49 miles, they had come further, from Ullapool, and still had more than 25 miles to go to Durness. I know they made it, because I saw them again!
The group of three had a slightly shorter day, from Ullapool to Kinlochbervie. It is these different start and end points on the same journey over a similar number of days that keep the groups crossing over each other. Makes for a lovely spirit of the road.
Very low water levels everywhere, on most measuring sticks it is below the zero mark.
Pottery: everything is stoneware, even the furniture!
Early taste of the northern section of the mad little road.
Lunch stop.
A very satisfying colour in the landscape.
The final big down and up.
Blue sky and many camper vans at Kylesku bridge.
And finally a right good charge, with a great view.
A late start as no point rushing. For most of the day, the two connected panels were producing 50W or less, and I consume on average 100 to 150. So a day run largely on battery, which thanks to the sunny previous evening started at a healthy 40.5V.
The main objective of the day was the 'mad little road', which is the twisty, hilly coast road north and south of Lochinver. The south part from my camp was simple enough, just 12 miles to all the attractions of Lochinver.
First the basics from Spar, then the famous Lochinver Larder pie shop for savoury and sweet pies to die for, and then my favourite pottery just around the bay: Highland Stoneware, whose colourful, hand painted mugs have been my tea vessel of choice for many years.
Then the first few miles northward to the view looking south over Clachtoll for lunch. Pie, obviously, with tea in my new mug.
I had to bypass this section last year as my 9 speed gears would not have managed the many chevrons on the OS map. Even my 11 speed 51T bottom gear was on its limits on the final climb out, but I managed.
By this time voltage was under 38V, which is the level where any high power riding will cause the solar battery to sag, and start drawing from the higher quality cells in the Shimano battery, so I had resigned myself to a really short day. As soon as I rejoined the main road, I was looking for a camping spot, and by the time I reached the Kylesku bridge I was getting a bit nervous, with only 40 miles covered, albeit on two panels only.
But then a bit of blue appeared in the west sky, and by the time I had ridden up to the viewpoint, I had full sun. It took until 5pm! So an hour and a half drinking tea and shepherding cars away from my shading zone, and the third panel reconnected, had me in much better shape. Good enough for another 9 miles to my second proper campsite of the trip at Scourie.
And here the group of four make their first real appearance. Two were waiting in the campsite entrance, with the others some distance back. These three Hungarian and one Swedish young women were riding the North Coast 500, and in common with the many other groups doing the same thing, had a right old logistical challenge finding accommodation for just one night at rideable distances apart.
As my day was ending at 49 miles, they had come further, from Ullapool, and still had more than 25 miles to go to Durness. I know they made it, because I saw them again!
The group of three had a slightly shorter day, from Ullapool to Kinlochbervie. It is these different start and end points on the same journey over a similar number of days that keep the groups crossing over each other. Makes for a lovely spirit of the road.
Very low water levels everywhere, on most measuring sticks it is below the zero mark.
Pottery: everything is stoneware, even the furniture!
Early taste of the northern section of the mad little road.
Lunch stop.
A very satisfying colour in the landscape.
The final big down and up.
Blue sky and many camper vans at Kylesku bridge.
And finally a right good charge, with a great view.
Which brings me to Wednesday.
Having arrived at the campsite after the office had shut, I was relieved it opened quite early as I was after an early getaway. Almost on the dot of 8am I was paid up, and reminiscing about the first time I stayed there (1972 or so...!), And then away. Easy enough going with a bright sky and virtually full battery after some morning topping up, and just over two hours to Durness.
Outside Spar were the bikes of the four as I went in for supplies, but only one left when I came out, laden with lunchtime goodies. No sign of the riders until much later.
In Spar there were breads, cakes and an enormous frittata on slices, which looked like the produce of a fine and hopefully local bakery, as well as Scottish cheeses from a dairy near Inverness. Granary loaf, brie lookalike, frittata and tomatoes onboard, I took the short side trip to Balnakiel beach and the big old house. Very fine in the sunshine.
Then through Durness and up the steep short cut, because I can, past the beautiful Sango Bay beach, and on along the few miles of north coast before heading down the long side of Loch Eriboll. One of my favourite parts of the route. Lunch was at the head of the loch, and time being plentiful it was out with the stove for tea with everything.
The remaining miles to Tongue went past very easily, and instead of crossing the causeway I followed the roughly 11 extra miles of the old road loop around the shore of the Kyle of Tongue. Halfway the OS map said Broch in a funny font, and from the road stonework was visible, so I climbed up through the heather and bracken, rewarded by a readily identifiable metre or so height of remaining wall with internal steps in the double wall and the defensive entrance still in place. Well worth the effort.
Then into Tongue village just before 5pm and an open shop for fresh milk and treats.
Then back to the causeway for a camp, and to cheer on the group of four, and two thirds of the group of three as they crossed the causeway. The other third was taking a complex route involving a taxi, a bike repair man, a ride to a station and a train to regroup after a broken chain. Next time, a chain tool...
Final detail of the day was a long conversation with a couple in a camper van who wandered along for a chat, having ridden the route about 40 years ago, camping in the days of cotton Vango Force Ten tents etc... Bikes weighing 100 lbs with luggage... Try telling that to the kids of today...they won't believe you!
Leaving Scourie campsite.
Somewhere between Riconich and the beginning of the Kyle of Durness.
The old house at Balnakiel.
Looking up the croftland from the lowest point of the steep 'Durness bypass'.
Sango bay.
View out to sea as the road turns inland.
Sea pinks, salt flats and mountains just before Laxford Bridge.
Views of Ben Loyal dominate the Tongue old road loop.
The Broch.
Having arrived at the campsite after the office had shut, I was relieved it opened quite early as I was after an early getaway. Almost on the dot of 8am I was paid up, and reminiscing about the first time I stayed there (1972 or so...!), And then away. Easy enough going with a bright sky and virtually full battery after some morning topping up, and just over two hours to Durness.
Outside Spar were the bikes of the four as I went in for supplies, but only one left when I came out, laden with lunchtime goodies. No sign of the riders until much later.
In Spar there were breads, cakes and an enormous frittata on slices, which looked like the produce of a fine and hopefully local bakery, as well as Scottish cheeses from a dairy near Inverness. Granary loaf, brie lookalike, frittata and tomatoes onboard, I took the short side trip to Balnakiel beach and the big old house. Very fine in the sunshine.
Then through Durness and up the steep short cut, because I can, past the beautiful Sango Bay beach, and on along the few miles of north coast before heading down the long side of Loch Eriboll. One of my favourite parts of the route. Lunch was at the head of the loch, and time being plentiful it was out with the stove for tea with everything.
The remaining miles to Tongue went past very easily, and instead of crossing the causeway I followed the roughly 11 extra miles of the old road loop around the shore of the Kyle of Tongue. Halfway the OS map said Broch in a funny font, and from the road stonework was visible, so I climbed up through the heather and bracken, rewarded by a readily identifiable metre or so height of remaining wall with internal steps in the double wall and the defensive entrance still in place. Well worth the effort.
Then into Tongue village just before 5pm and an open shop for fresh milk and treats.
Then back to the causeway for a camp, and to cheer on the group of four, and two thirds of the group of three as they crossed the causeway. The other third was taking a complex route involving a taxi, a bike repair man, a ride to a station and a train to regroup after a broken chain. Next time, a chain tool...
Final detail of the day was a long conversation with a couple in a camper van who wandered along for a chat, having ridden the route about 40 years ago, camping in the days of cotton Vango Force Ten tents etc... Bikes weighing 100 lbs with luggage... Try telling that to the kids of today...they won't believe you!
Leaving Scourie campsite.
Somewhere between Riconich and the beginning of the Kyle of Durness.
The old house at Balnakiel.
Looking up the croftland from the lowest point of the steep 'Durness bypass'.
Sango bay.
View out to sea as the road turns inland.
Sea pinks, salt flats and mountains just before Laxford Bridge.
Views of Ben Loyal dominate the Tongue old road loop.
The Broch.
Thursday began with a short side trip to Talmine, and it's bay, beach and pier. The road goes on several miles further, but I left those for another day. Then back across the causeway and up the first of many hills on the road to Bettyhill. I stopped at the second of last year's three cafes as I remembered good food, and added a bacon brie and cranberry sandwich to my lunch.
Then just before Bettyhill on an unequivocally single track section of road, downhill and fairly bumpy, I was blasted from behind by the horn of a big pickup truck pulling a big trailer. There was a passing place close ahead, but even closer a smoothish gravel shoulder on the right, so I moved over, off the tarmac and let the horn through. It wasn't satisfied though, and bellowed through the open driver's window 'keep to the left!'. 'Its a single track road', I shouted back, but the horn was having none of it, and kept on shouting! He expected to overtake half on the tarmac and half on the gravel, with me getting off the road out of his way. Just another impatient or bike hating driver. The sound is quite good on the GoPro footage.
In Bettyhill who should I meet but the group of four again, who after their short day from Durness were on a much longer trip to Golspie. Many of the groups I met left out the touristy John O'Groats and avoided the busy A9 by turning south either at Bettyhill or Melvich. They set off before me, and disappeared into the distance. I gradually caught up with them one by one on the many uphill sections before I turned off on another side trip to visit the lighthouse at Strathy Point.
Another leisurely lunch there, and a route choice dilemma. Either another 40+ miles east into a very significant headwind, or dive south into the midge ridden interior. It is on my to do list to ride the sparse network of roads dividing Scotland north of the Great Glen, so I chose south through Forsinard and Kinbrace to Helmsdale on the east coast, then a few miles of A9 in the quiet evening to a secluded grassy area out of wind beneath a wall. The longest day so far, 141km.
Not the prettiest route, but I have been rather spoilt by the west coast scenery in sunshine.
Ready to leave.
Talmine.
Bens Hope and Loyal.
Approaching Strathy Point lighthouse.
Views west and east from the point.
The longest 'camper van' I have ever seen.
Diverse economy.
Forsinard's very remote railway station.
View across the blanket bog of 'the Flow Country'.
Then just before Bettyhill on an unequivocally single track section of road, downhill and fairly bumpy, I was blasted from behind by the horn of a big pickup truck pulling a big trailer. There was a passing place close ahead, but even closer a smoothish gravel shoulder on the right, so I moved over, off the tarmac and let the horn through. It wasn't satisfied though, and bellowed through the open driver's window 'keep to the left!'. 'Its a single track road', I shouted back, but the horn was having none of it, and kept on shouting! He expected to overtake half on the tarmac and half on the gravel, with me getting off the road out of his way. Just another impatient or bike hating driver. The sound is quite good on the GoPro footage.
In Bettyhill who should I meet but the group of four again, who after their short day from Durness were on a much longer trip to Golspie. Many of the groups I met left out the touristy John O'Groats and avoided the busy A9 by turning south either at Bettyhill or Melvich. They set off before me, and disappeared into the distance. I gradually caught up with them one by one on the many uphill sections before I turned off on another side trip to visit the lighthouse at Strathy Point.
Another leisurely lunch there, and a route choice dilemma. Either another 40+ miles east into a very significant headwind, or dive south into the midge ridden interior. It is on my to do list to ride the sparse network of roads dividing Scotland north of the Great Glen, so I chose south through Forsinard and Kinbrace to Helmsdale on the east coast, then a few miles of A9 in the quiet evening to a secluded grassy area out of wind beneath a wall. The longest day so far, 141km.
Not the prettiest route, but I have been rather spoilt by the west coast scenery in sunshine.
Ready to leave.
Talmine.
Bens Hope and Loyal.
Approaching Strathy Point lighthouse.
Views west and east from the point.
The longest 'camper van' I have ever seen.
Diverse economy.
Forsinard's very remote railway station.
View across the blanket bog of 'the Flow Country'.
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I'll get back to filling in the gap later.
This morning back at Tongue, up early as a long day potentially ahead, at a midge free camp so safely out of the tent already, I have a powerful early morning top up charge going on.
I rode most of Lairg to Altnaharra yesterday alongside Linda, on day 10 of her 975 mile scenic route LEJOG. Took some keeping up with, burning some battery in the process. I didn't hang around for the remaining 18 miles either, and the day ended at 38V so the 5 amps I am currently getting are very welcome.
Today's forecast is another showery one and 26 degrees before full sun and a bit cooler returns tomorrow.
1 amp.
2 amps.
4 amps.
5 amps.
The old slipway on the causeway with Ben Loyal behind.
This morning back at Tongue, up early as a long day potentially ahead, at a midge free camp so safely out of the tent already, I have a powerful early morning top up charge going on.
I rode most of Lairg to Altnaharra yesterday alongside Linda, on day 10 of her 975 mile scenic route LEJOG. Took some keeping up with, burning some battery in the process. I didn't hang around for the remaining 18 miles either, and the day ended at 38V so the 5 amps I am currently getting are very welcome.
Today's forecast is another showery one and 26 degrees before full sun and a bit cooler returns tomorrow.
1 amp.
2 amps.
4 amps.
5 amps.
The old slipway on the causeway with Ben Loyal behind.
Friday started at a gentle pace, not many midges on this east coast, away just after 09:30.
One of the reasons for coming down here was the need for shopping. Had I carried on on the north coast I would have had Thurso, but yesterday's road is the only one not to pass through Lairg, so Helmsdale, Brora, Golspie are the possibilities.
I struck lucky in Brora, with a hardware store for meths and Co-op for food, do quickly underway fully stocked.
Today's route was into Lairg, 'The cross-roads of the northern Highlands', and out northwards on another of the interior roads, up past the Crask Inn, then to another literal crossroads at Altnaharra, where I would go left on this occasion. 21 miles later I would be back on the north coast, and having to choose left or right to find a camping spot.
Brora sits in a web of lanes, so it is possible to avoid some of the A9 on the way in, and when heading for Lairg, the lanes up Strath Brora and over to Rogart run inland for miles, avoiding about 14 miles of A9 and A839. A fair amount of the remaining miles to Lairg can also be avoided by a parallel tiny road with two steep sections early on and great views.
I didn't stop in Lairg, just made mental notes of the shops and cafes for future reference, and carried on a few miles for another leisurely tea based lunch. Just before stopping I passed a slightly loaded lone cyclist who reappears later.
The 11 miles from lunch to the Crask Inn were easy enough, except for the dozen or more vans of all sizes driven at speed in the opposite direction on this small single track road with little regard for passing places or opposing traffic. Most were the workers from the under construction wind farm just beyond Crask, knocking off early and rushing recklessly home for a sunny weekend. There might be an email sent to the company...
I wasn't going to stop at the Crask Inn as I was barely past lunch, but as I attempted to slink past, there were shouts of recognition from the birthday celebrating group of two, whose route I had misunderstood days earlier. They were just as surprised to see me, so of course I had to stop. Also there was the earlier solo cyclist who turned out to be on day 13 of his LEJOG with 25 miles left this day, and one final day to go.
We four were soon joined by a day 2 JOGLEr, fresh as a daisy compared to our new northbound friend, and two Dutch or German tourers, two months in to a six month adventure. Rohlhoff hubs and big gravel tyres on their bikes, and well worn in leiderhosen on him.
So seven cyclists, plenty of beer and cake, but alas no tea! The water supply had dried up in the unseasonably dry weather, leaving Crask Inn in full dry oasis mode.
The LEJOGer was first to leave, accompanied with support, sympathy and, most importantly, a banana for those 25 miles. The last goodbyes lasted long, and I did not catch him in the 8 miles to Altnaharra where our routes diverged. My first puncture of the trip after 960km had something to do with that! Bike rear tyre, so a few minutes to fix.
I went left on the 21 mile 'single track road without passing places', which was mercifully quiet. This road has almost no habitation along it, and very little traffic, so not much need for them. Caravans are discouraged!
Halfway down is one of the best preserved brochs in Scotland, which was another reason for wanting to ride this road. The view switched from the back of Ben Loyal in the early stages to Ben Hope, the parking for which is just beyond the Broch. Then undulating road over several reconstructed bridges replacing those washed away a few years ago in a storm. A different story today, virtually no water in the burns. I needed some for my camp as my plan was to stay high for midge dispersing breeze, and eventually I passed a larger burn complete with waterfall which filled my bottles easily.
As I reached the main road at Hope Bridge there were two people sitting in the middle of the west bound lane. Hitchhiking. I didn't see them again, so I hope they found a lift and didn't get flattened.
I went left about two miles to the highest point of the road overlooking Loch Eriboll to camp. Good evening breeze, and not too many midges.
Walled garden in Strath Brora.
Field of blue flowers off the lane in Strath Fleet.
Waterfront in Lairg.
Art and blanket bog just before Crask Inn.
The crossroads at Altnaharra.
The back of Ben Loyal.
Impressive several thousand years old stonework.
Looking back to Ben Hope.
And camp.
One of the reasons for coming down here was the need for shopping. Had I carried on on the north coast I would have had Thurso, but yesterday's road is the only one not to pass through Lairg, so Helmsdale, Brora, Golspie are the possibilities.
I struck lucky in Brora, with a hardware store for meths and Co-op for food, do quickly underway fully stocked.
Today's route was into Lairg, 'The cross-roads of the northern Highlands', and out northwards on another of the interior roads, up past the Crask Inn, then to another literal crossroads at Altnaharra, where I would go left on this occasion. 21 miles later I would be back on the north coast, and having to choose left or right to find a camping spot.
Brora sits in a web of lanes, so it is possible to avoid some of the A9 on the way in, and when heading for Lairg, the lanes up Strath Brora and over to Rogart run inland for miles, avoiding about 14 miles of A9 and A839. A fair amount of the remaining miles to Lairg can also be avoided by a parallel tiny road with two steep sections early on and great views.
I didn't stop in Lairg, just made mental notes of the shops and cafes for future reference, and carried on a few miles for another leisurely tea based lunch. Just before stopping I passed a slightly loaded lone cyclist who reappears later.
The 11 miles from lunch to the Crask Inn were easy enough, except for the dozen or more vans of all sizes driven at speed in the opposite direction on this small single track road with little regard for passing places or opposing traffic. Most were the workers from the under construction wind farm just beyond Crask, knocking off early and rushing recklessly home for a sunny weekend. There might be an email sent to the company...
I wasn't going to stop at the Crask Inn as I was barely past lunch, but as I attempted to slink past, there were shouts of recognition from the birthday celebrating group of two, whose route I had misunderstood days earlier. They were just as surprised to see me, so of course I had to stop. Also there was the earlier solo cyclist who turned out to be on day 13 of his LEJOG with 25 miles left this day, and one final day to go.
We four were soon joined by a day 2 JOGLEr, fresh as a daisy compared to our new northbound friend, and two Dutch or German tourers, two months in to a six month adventure. Rohlhoff hubs and big gravel tyres on their bikes, and well worn in leiderhosen on him.
So seven cyclists, plenty of beer and cake, but alas no tea! The water supply had dried up in the unseasonably dry weather, leaving Crask Inn in full dry oasis mode.
The LEJOGer was first to leave, accompanied with support, sympathy and, most importantly, a banana for those 25 miles. The last goodbyes lasted long, and I did not catch him in the 8 miles to Altnaharra where our routes diverged. My first puncture of the trip after 960km had something to do with that! Bike rear tyre, so a few minutes to fix.
I went left on the 21 mile 'single track road without passing places', which was mercifully quiet. This road has almost no habitation along it, and very little traffic, so not much need for them. Caravans are discouraged!
Halfway down is one of the best preserved brochs in Scotland, which was another reason for wanting to ride this road. The view switched from the back of Ben Loyal in the early stages to Ben Hope, the parking for which is just beyond the Broch. Then undulating road over several reconstructed bridges replacing those washed away a few years ago in a storm. A different story today, virtually no water in the burns. I needed some for my camp as my plan was to stay high for midge dispersing breeze, and eventually I passed a larger burn complete with waterfall which filled my bottles easily.
As I reached the main road at Hope Bridge there were two people sitting in the middle of the west bound lane. Hitchhiking. I didn't see them again, so I hope they found a lift and didn't get flattened.
I went left about two miles to the highest point of the road overlooking Loch Eriboll to camp. Good evening breeze, and not too many midges.
Walled garden in Strath Brora.
Field of blue flowers off the lane in Strath Fleet.
Waterfront in Lairg.
Art and blanket bog just before Crask Inn.
The crossroads at Altnaharra.
The back of Ben Loyal.
Impressive several thousand years old stonework.
Looking back to Ben Hope.
And camp.
Have the midges started yet? The last time I cycled the road past Stac Pollaidh I was eaten alive
That must be why I could only manage 94 miles yesterday..."too hot for solar panels"
I forget the name of the website that shows UK generation mix in real time, but if analysed I suspect the data would show the lack of wind has been by far the larger effect.
Policy-wise, linking aircon demand to provision of enough solar capacity to power it would change designers approaches: they might find it cheaper to make buildings that don't need so much cooling!
I like to paint my bike ultra-visibility white with this:
Researchers create whitest paint, the Vantablack of white paints
The engineers hope the supercool paint will reduce the need for air conditioning on a warming planet.
New ultrawhite reflective cooling paint is like the opposite of Vantablack
The engineers hope the supercool paint will reduce the need for air conditioning on a warming planet.
www.cnet.com
Once again, thankyou for the many stunning views. I had suggested the 500 in our roof top camper + bikes to my wife. But sadly she suffers horrendously from bites, so I don't think I'm going to get to see them for myself.
Just one thing, as a Welsh resident, where's all the sheep?
Just one thing, as a Welsh resident, where's all the sheep?
Oh yes!
Smidge and a head net are my protections, plus planning camps for best chance of low midge count, plus when necessary, early to bed and late to rise.
I almost always camp at the coast.
More sheep in the lowlands, none in the wildest places and quite sparse in the in-between. I see enough of them at home, so they are not a priority target!
Maybe plan a tour with indoor accommodation to avoid the midges, very late May to mid-June for choice, or April given a good forecast. I'm busy building up memories for the days the legs don't want to work any more!
I was away early on Saturday as midges too few to mention and hot in the tent. Apart from direction, I had no real plan, but the hazy visibility and ample energy from a bright but not clear sky encouraged riding over sight seeing so I just rode.
Quickly back around Loch Eriboll and into Durness for a second helping of Spar special baked goods, this time a huge wedge of carrot cake with thick topping. Cheese and salads too for lunch. Then down the estuary, over the stone bridges and there was Clive, the first solo black cycle tourist I have met. I was hailed to a welcome halt for an extensive chinwag mostly his curiosity about my solar setup. I just learned that he lives in Cambridge. It was only later when several other chance meetings had unfolded that I found out he had just spent three years travelling around the world! These adventures are very much lived 'in the moment'.
We exchanged notes on wild camping, managing midges and probably many other topics. Several other road users kindly stopped to see if we had broken down, which was very nice of them.
Finally onward, me south Clive north, with my next stop at the roadside spring halfway up the long straight hill. The miles were going by very nicely, and I reached Scourie for a very late lunch by the beach, feeling there was plenty of the day left, but still with no real plan. In the back of my mind was Lochinver pies and Elphin tearooms.
As I drank my first mug of tea, a pair of familiar faces appeared, the slightly older than me veterans of the 100lbs touring bikes of their youth last seen as I left Tongue. Another welcome long chat about bikes and touring then and now, with a very useful outcome: as we were looking at my huge 51T cassette, I noticed it wobbled! The lock ring had worked slightly loose, so I clearly had not tightened it enough when I refitted it just before leaving.
That gave me the excuse to visit Scott, the man behind the bike repairs sign at the other end of the village. His bike shed looks like it contains the answer to just about any breakdown, which is useful to know. Turns out he has a Scorpion too.
Having absorbed a fair chunk of time, it wouldn't have been a bad idea to call it a day in Scourie, but my indecision kept me going until tired legs and time made it clear I would not reach either Elphin or Lochinver at a reasonable time. A roadside camp on the shore of Loch Assynt, rather midgy necessitating an early retreat to a hot tent, and a late start the next morning.
Sunrise.
Very early light, looking south west.
Ready to roll.
The peninsula with limekilns and a fine old house.
One of the many white sand beaches just before Durness.
Looking back, a wild camp spot rather more public than I aim for.
The old pier and building just west of Laxford Bridge. Someone has been training the rings to stand up!
Lovely light on the Kylesku bridge.
An almost dry waterfall quite high waterfall just a few minutes walk from the road.
Quickly back around Loch Eriboll and into Durness for a second helping of Spar special baked goods, this time a huge wedge of carrot cake with thick topping. Cheese and salads too for lunch. Then down the estuary, over the stone bridges and there was Clive, the first solo black cycle tourist I have met. I was hailed to a welcome halt for an extensive chinwag mostly his curiosity about my solar setup. I just learned that he lives in Cambridge. It was only later when several other chance meetings had unfolded that I found out he had just spent three years travelling around the world! These adventures are very much lived 'in the moment'.
We exchanged notes on wild camping, managing midges and probably many other topics. Several other road users kindly stopped to see if we had broken down, which was very nice of them.
Finally onward, me south Clive north, with my next stop at the roadside spring halfway up the long straight hill. The miles were going by very nicely, and I reached Scourie for a very late lunch by the beach, feeling there was plenty of the day left, but still with no real plan. In the back of my mind was Lochinver pies and Elphin tearooms.
As I drank my first mug of tea, a pair of familiar faces appeared, the slightly older than me veterans of the 100lbs touring bikes of their youth last seen as I left Tongue. Another welcome long chat about bikes and touring then and now, with a very useful outcome: as we were looking at my huge 51T cassette, I noticed it wobbled! The lock ring had worked slightly loose, so I clearly had not tightened it enough when I refitted it just before leaving.
That gave me the excuse to visit Scott, the man behind the bike repairs sign at the other end of the village. His bike shed looks like it contains the answer to just about any breakdown, which is useful to know. Turns out he has a Scorpion too.
Having absorbed a fair chunk of time, it wouldn't have been a bad idea to call it a day in Scourie, but my indecision kept me going until tired legs and time made it clear I would not reach either Elphin or Lochinver at a reasonable time. A roadside camp on the shore of Loch Assynt, rather midgy necessitating an early retreat to a hot tent, and a late start the next morning.
Sunrise.
Very early light, looking south west.
Ready to roll.
The peninsula with limekilns and a fine old house.
One of the many white sand beaches just before Durness.
Looking back, a wild camp spot rather more public than I aim for.
The old pier and building just west of Laxford Bridge. Someone has been training the rings to stand up!
Lovely light on the Kylesku bridge.
An almost dry waterfall quite high waterfall just a few minutes walk from the road.
A bit of online research on Sunday morning decided which way Sunday's route would begin: Lochinver Larder closed, Elphin tearooms open at 10:30. I rolled up at 10:32! Tea and cake, and quickly joined by many others. I was in no rush, and easily absorbed almost an hour in conversations about routes, attractions and solar bikes.
My plan had become more morphos overnight: another loop in the north, riding more of the roads of the interior. Today took me from Elphin back up to Ledmore Junction, right to Rosehall and then Lairg again, then north past Crask Inn and straight on at the Altnaharra crossroads all the way back to Tongue and hopefully another midge free night at my causeway camp.
Very quiet all the way to Lairg, where I was after a shop and a cafe for lunch. Having seen a Spar and a café next to other on my first trip through, I went straight to lunch at the Pier cafe, which was very busy, very efficient and very good. As much restaurant as cafe, coping with everyone who rolled up, on my 'revisit' list. Soup and a toasted bacon, brie and cranberry ciabatta, and of course tea.
Then next door to Spar, which was closed on Sundays! Fortunately there was a Costcutter at the fuel station, and fuel stations are never closed.
The highlight of the day was falling into synch with the indomitable Linda, on day 10 of LEJOG, riding on her own but with a car for support. Setting a cracking pace, on a fairly modest bike with upgraded wheels and electronic gearshift. Her day ended in Altnaharra, but as her mileage was a mere 78 for the day, she came on a bit further to scout out the crossroads for the morning, and just tip it over to 80.
Saturday and Sunday's routes were far more attractive than I expected for interior roads, having had my expectations dampened by Melvich to Helmsdale with a headwind a few days before. All worth riding for the remoteness, bog moor and mountain scenery, isolated inns etc and of course the people met along the way.
Packed and ready for a late start
Reflections.
Mountains and infrastructure to add interest on a full morning.
Menu of mileages to the north.
Breakfast at Elphin.
Ledmore Junction. Right this time.
Oykel bridge, 2023.
Somewhat lower than Oykel bridge, 2022.
Bog with flax or cotton grass on the way into Lairg
Lairg duck house.
My plan had become more morphos overnight: another loop in the north, riding more of the roads of the interior. Today took me from Elphin back up to Ledmore Junction, right to Rosehall and then Lairg again, then north past Crask Inn and straight on at the Altnaharra crossroads all the way back to Tongue and hopefully another midge free night at my causeway camp.
Very quiet all the way to Lairg, where I was after a shop and a cafe for lunch. Having seen a Spar and a café next to other on my first trip through, I went straight to lunch at the Pier cafe, which was very busy, very efficient and very good. As much restaurant as cafe, coping with everyone who rolled up, on my 'revisit' list. Soup and a toasted bacon, brie and cranberry ciabatta, and of course tea.
Then next door to Spar, which was closed on Sundays! Fortunately there was a Costcutter at the fuel station, and fuel stations are never closed.
The highlight of the day was falling into synch with the indomitable Linda, on day 10 of LEJOG, riding on her own but with a car for support. Setting a cracking pace, on a fairly modest bike with upgraded wheels and electronic gearshift. Her day ended in Altnaharra, but as her mileage was a mere 78 for the day, she came on a bit further to scout out the crossroads for the morning, and just tip it over to 80.
Saturday and Sunday's routes were far more attractive than I expected for interior roads, having had my expectations dampened by Melvich to Helmsdale with a headwind a few days before. All worth riding for the remoteness, bog moor and mountain scenery, isolated inns etc and of course the people met along the way.
Packed and ready for a late start
Reflections.
Mountains and infrastructure to add interest on a full morning.
Menu of mileages to the north.
Breakfast at Elphin.
Ledmore Junction. Right this time.
Oykel bridge, 2023.
Somewhat lower than Oykel bridge, 2022.
Bog with flax or cotton grass on the way into Lairg
Lairg duck house.
Monday, the longest day. Another pair of links in Lairg's web took me east to almost Bettyhill, then south to Syre, approximately west back to the unused arm of Altnaharra's crossroads, south again to Crask Inn again, then south east almost back to Lairg and then almost back on myself to go north west along Loch Shin back to Laxford Bridge. Then legs willing, a last six miles or so back to the lovely Scourie campsite, and shop
and shower.
Bettyhill via Syre to Altnaharra is Strath Naver, beautiful and full of interest. In theory going inland beside a river ought to be uphill, but it never felt like it until the slightly steeper last couple of miles.
I met Linda again on her last day, full of beans and already wanting another adventure. I'm certain it will happen.
There was another smaller gathering at Crask Inn, and this time I had fine soup and cakes for later, all made on the premises. On the list for another visit. Today's other cyclists were all LEJOGers or JOGLErs, all the range from full camping to full indoor accommodation. Six in total, if I remember correctly.
The post lunch miles to my junction went easily, and I was mighty pleased to see a sign saying Scourie 41 miles when my mental note said 49. Given it was only 13:15 even with over 50 miles already covered, that seemed thoroughly possible. And so it was, again the miles rushing easily past, just before 4pm at Laxford Bridge and just before 5 at Scourie. About 94 miles, 150km.
A nice breeze when I arrived that did not quite last until sunset, so indoors early to combat the midges. I poked my head out for a quick last picture as the sun went down.
Early morning at Tongue causeway.
Highland Spring gives way to the river Navar, which is very low.
Junction at Syre. The link from here to Kinbrace remains unridden.
Plaque commemorating the cleared settlement of Rosal.
Reflections in Loch Naver.
Crask Inn, complete with a shrubbery.
Reflections in Loch More, a few miles short of Laxford Bridge.
Sunset and many vans at Scourie campsite.
and shower.
Bettyhill via Syre to Altnaharra is Strath Naver, beautiful and full of interest. In theory going inland beside a river ought to be uphill, but it never felt like it until the slightly steeper last couple of miles.
I met Linda again on her last day, full of beans and already wanting another adventure. I'm certain it will happen.
There was another smaller gathering at Crask Inn, and this time I had fine soup and cakes for later, all made on the premises. On the list for another visit. Today's other cyclists were all LEJOGers or JOGLErs, all the range from full camping to full indoor accommodation. Six in total, if I remember correctly.
The post lunch miles to my junction went easily, and I was mighty pleased to see a sign saying Scourie 41 miles when my mental note said 49. Given it was only 13:15 even with over 50 miles already covered, that seemed thoroughly possible. And so it was, again the miles rushing easily past, just before 4pm at Laxford Bridge and just before 5 at Scourie. About 94 miles, 150km.
A nice breeze when I arrived that did not quite last until sunset, so indoors early to combat the midges. I poked my head out for a quick last picture as the sun went down.
Early morning at Tongue causeway.
Highland Spring gives way to the river Navar, which is very low.
Junction at Syre. The link from here to Kinbrace remains unridden.
Plaque commemorating the cleared settlement of Rosal.
Reflections in Loch Naver.
Crask Inn, complete with a shrubbery.
Reflections in Loch More, a few miles short of Laxford Bridge.
Sunset and many vans at Scourie campsite.
You've mentioned the midge problem, how about the ticks? There are so many deer in Scotland that spread them around. I have worries seeing the bike lying in long grass, where ticks like to lurk. I remember the last time I was there, it was a road trip. I walked through one small field of grass and when I got back in the car I found ticks crawling on me. Luckily I got them off before they bit. I spoke to some cyclists at the time in one of the cafes and they said they often found ticks on them during the trip.
I know a few people with lyme disease, who were formerly enthusiastic campers and outdoor festival goers. Zero energy the lot, utterly debilitated long term. It's put me off camping.
www.kcur.org
There's a dangerous new tick in town, and it's already killing cows across several U.S. states
As an invasive tick species spreads westward across the U.S., so does the threat of a new disease in cattle. Researchers are sounding the alarm.
www.kcur.org
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