Hebrides Tour - Day 4

The Ends justifies the means:

Friday night was spent at the 'Boutique' Cowshed bunkhouse (oxymoron?) in Uig. Now its a while since I stayed in a bunkhouse in Scotland but I don't  remember them looking like this!

It was very good indeed with small dorms, each bunk having its own little shelf, light and socket for the recharging of those modern travel essentials.  I even had a full curtain so I could blog in private.  The curtain however didn't keep out the light when someone burst through  the door 'western saloon syle' at god knows what time. The main room light stayed on for 10 minutes while the offender faffed with rustling
carrier bags and zips before leaving the roomd with the light still on.  10 minutes later I got up to switch the light off, the culprit returned soon after but clearly resisted the temptation to reoffend.

It may not have been the same person, although I suspect it was (a young oriental gentleman) that got up early in the morning, disappeared to the bathroom for 5 minutes, came back and sprayed half a can of deodorant on himself and around the room. I'm afraid the Lynx effect was lost on me, I could have kneecapped the little shit.

It was a glorious evening in Uig, sunny but too early in the season for midges.

The following morning also started promisingly but was windy and cold.

I could see the ferry I needed to catch for the Isle of Harris from the host so it was just a quick mile downhill to catch it.

The crossing to Tarbert is around an hour and 40 minutes, most of it was spent in the cabin as it was freezing and blowing a hoolie on deck.

I stocked  up on lunch in Tarbert and headed off on my planned route out to the west of Harris, I'd heard the road out to Huisnis was one of the most scenic in the Hebrides.  Progress was slow heading initially north as there was a vicious northerly blowing, The trip was an out and back route of around 30 miles with lots of hills enroute.  After a few miles struggling with the gales it didn't look good but then what else could I do with the day, the hostel wasn't open until 5pm.

I stopped for lunch at the only shelter for miles around, the end of a wall provided a bit of shelter from the Arctic blast.  I dined in style making the most of the finest local produce, a Scotch pie, packet of McCoys crisps and a can of Irn Bru.

Some views on the road to Huisnis:

                                                                 Highland Coos:


The return trip was just as cold and arduous as the outward one so were it not for the splendours of Huisnis, it may not have been worthwhile.

Hebrides tour - Day 3

The weather relents:

The morning broke bright and sunny and I was 'almost' tempted to wear shorts  but thankfully didn't.  I treated myself to a full Scottish breakfast (like a full English but more expensive) at the  Old Inn.  I thought  it may be my last chance of a decent breakfast for a good few days.  I worry I  might waste away if not adequately nourished!

The climb out of Carbost was soon rewarded by distant views to the Cuillin ridge.

Sgurr nan Gillean with its Pinnacle ridge to the left, the Bhastier tooth and Am Bhastier further right.

Looking  back down Loch Harport towards Carbost.

The western coast of Skye is a fascinating series of peninsulas and sea lochs, we'll worth spending time exploring  but my route today was long enough so I kept largely  on the main road  which unfortunately is fast and much busier than I remember.  The peculiarly British pass time of drivers terrorising cyclists is alive and well on the Isle of Skye.  The use of passing places on the single track sections seems often to apply to cars only with far too many  drivers  thinking  it's ok pass at speed within inches of cyclists.

Some views enroute to Dunvegan:

The twin flat tops of Healabhal Beag and Healabhal Mor
'Macleods Tables'


I stopped at one point to take a photo of yet another  glorious view, also stopped in the same place was another  cyclist. We got chatting, he was a vet in the Lake District and a keen hillwalker and cyclist. We compared notes for 10 minutes on past adventures, current ailments and the wisdom of curbing yours activities with advancing years.  It seemed neither of us had quite got the grasp of this yet.
We parted  company, I duly got my photo and set off in the same direction.  A mile down the road I met the guy again, on the grass verge with his bike upside down and that 'punctured' expression on his face which all cyclists will recognise.
It was rather more than just a puncture, his rear tyre had a substantial split in it. At this point I realised that in my hasty preperation for this tour I hadn't packed a spare tyre, note to self!
We discussed the options, there weren't many.  A repair was attempted and I was tasked to press on the few miles to Dunvegan in the optimistic quest to find a bike shop or maybe a bike hire place that could supply a new tyre.
There are lots of things Dunvegan doesn't have, not surprisingly any sort of bike facility included.
Via several messages it transpired that a sort of repair had been achieved and the travelling vet was bound for Portree and salvation.

I pressed on towards Uig. I took a wrong  turn just beyond Dunvegan, I passed the castle entrance hoping to continue along the coast but had to retrace and pickup the road towards Portree.  It seemed counter intuitive to be heading towards the east side  of the island when I wanted to get to Uig in the north west. I also kept seeing Sgur nan Gillian which Id passed the day before and it didnt seem to be getting any further away.  I'd only bought a map for the Outer Hebrides as I was confident I knew Skye well enough, I  was confused by getting closer and closer to Portree not remebering that the island is very narrow at this point and its only a few miles from Portree to the east coast.
Soon enough I  hit the junction  and took a left for Uig.
The day was harder than expected, lots of long steady climbs and at around 50 miles it was enough with my current fitness.  Before the final descent  to Uig I stopped at yet another bus stop, not to shelter this time but to rest and enjoy the view.

Hebrides Tour - Day 1

The journey north:

Into the Japanese Prefecture time zone.

Lugging a loaded touring bike on and off trains has to be my least favourite part of cycle touring, apart from maybe the endless climbs, and getting stung  by nasty hornet things in Spain, and crappy hostels, and strong winds, and hunger, and thirst and a few other things I won't elaborate on. Nevertheless, trains are a hassle.  I am probably more likely to upset my fragile back manhandling my bike on or off a train than at any other time during the tour.  At least spending all day on trains allows me a further recovery from my current back and hip flexor issues.  My 6 mile test yesterday has lulled me in to a hopefully justified sense of security but Thursday's rather longer journey across the Isle of Skye will be a sterner test which, if failed, will cause all sorts of shit. Fingers crossed!

Well, the journey started well and went significantly downhill.  Preston to Glasgow Central, no problem.  Except for the curious leep forward in time. Soon after crossing the Scottish border I noticed my phone had jumped from 10am to 6pm?  It seems I had changed to some obscure Japanese Prefecture time zone, has Scotland surrendered it's sovereignty to a distant land?
Once in Glasgow there followed a stressful ride across a busy and unfamiliar city. A half mile journey which involved cycling down one way streets and on pavements. Queen Street station was a big mess of building  works and judging by the demeanor of the staff there, completion won't  come a day too soon. 
The train I needed to Mallaig was to split 3 ways and no one seemed sure which part I should be on?  Fortunately the announcement put things right but that provoked a frenzied reshuffle on a very busy platform.  Having been told I must remove all pannier bags from the bike prior to boarding I was left weighed down with bags and trying to push my bike on to the train with one hand, not happy.

Once settled on the train I was happy that there were no further changes to make, I could sit back, relax and spend 5 hours watching the weather turn from sunny to shite! 

Ben Nevis is there somewhereg

Just before  arriving in Mallaig an announcement brought news that bad weather had caussed the cancellation of the evening ferry to Skye and that my ferry in the morning was also in some doubt.  A days delay would throw my week long plan in to turmoil. The journey from the station to my hostel is around 50 metres, I was drenched when I arrived, still not happy.  I got to my room and found the zip had broken on my cycling jersey and then I got a message from home to say the car  had broken down.  Beginning to see the funny side!

Let's see what tomorrow brings, more shit no doubt.

Oh, as I plan to be away for 8 days I've had to ask my wife Claire not to eat my birthday chocolates, I'll post another photo of the box when I return!

Outer Hebrides Tour, or not!

Unwanted Challenges:

Whether a half hour pootle will be a sufficient indicator of my ability to complete a week long cycle tour on the Isle of Skye and the Outer Hebrides is in some doubt but as I'm due to depart tomorrow morning I have little other choice, except to cancel as I thought inevitable until yesterday.

The reason for this all too familiar dilemma is the return of my old adversary although his company is never far away.  2 weeks ago doing a 10 mile time trial for which I was probably ill prepared I pulled my lower back and the resulting 'acute episode' has had me struggling since. Add to that a painful Hip Flexor strain brought about by doing exercises to try to help my back and the possibility of going ahead with the tour seemed unlikely.

So, with less than 24 hours before a 'possible' departure I sit here in my dressing gown looking at very dark clouds and bending trees wondering if I dare cock my leg over my bike, not easy with a hip flexor strain.  I think I'm more concerned that the short test ride will go well as then I will be tempted to proceed with the trip and may well end up stranded somewhere in the Hebridean wilderness with an embarrassing injury and an expensive early return home. 

I haven't given a thought to packing yet so I'll need to do that as well as shopping for supplies and revisiting my route plan which I've neglected as I thought the trip was off.I'd better ditch the dressing gown and get a wriggle on!