Quick picture of the Inverness Castleand the buildings along the River Ness, then we were on our way.  The high bridge to cross the Beauty Firth offered spectacular views of Inverness at the mouth of the riverand the little village on the other side.  Shortly after crossing, we came to a fork in the road where we met Rafeal of Switzerland.  He agreed that the steepness and constant up and downs we had all experienced in this country, were worse than biking the Alps.Which way to continue from here, was the question that had stopped us here.  Both directions would take you were you wanted to go, it was just which was the better route.  They enlisted the assistance of a local and he recommended the “more scenic route”, which apparently in Scottish means very hilly. Yes, the views were brilliant (even if we DID have to climb it) but the several mile long steep uphills were buggers, really tough buggers.  In between the climbs we rode the ridge, occasionally dropping down only to climb again.  Most of the road was “single track”, so there was not much room when a bike race went speeding by us.  Jerry was in front, until the lead car yelled at him to pull over.

We had a ferry to catch to cross Cromarty Firth, so we were happy when we saw this drop and the water beyond.Just as we got to the bottom, a hairpin turn sent us back up another 18% grade.We climbed for almost another hour, once again spectacular views (those white dots are sheep).

This time the downhill led us to Cormartyand the dramatic mouth to the North Sea.Twenty seven miles of scenic mileage versus the twenty miles we’d planned, the duckies were happy for a rest.Our terrain on the other side was blissfully flat, but we’d already taken enough photos, so we enjoyed the easy pedaling.  A slight turn in direction and the clouds we had tried to ignore, were too close for comfort.  We picked up the pace to make in to town before the rain hit.  Naturally the town is on a hill and the castle we were staying was 3/4 of a mile above the town. But we made it there with ten minutes to spare before the rain.  To dispel the running commentary that we are wennies with regard to the rain, we suffered the environment and headed to town for dinner.  Not a lot of choice, but what we found was fabulous; wine and taste bud tantalizing Indian food…..don’t you worry that we need to bike uphill after this dinner.

Low 60’s but sunny as we sailed down from our perch on the hill.  The next twenty miles was a flat, gorgeous ride along the Dornoch Firth.  Who said you cannot enjoy the beauty of the hills without climbing them?  Even the building clouds offered stunning contrast and beautiful reflections on the water.  A bike over the Bonar Bridge and we started climbing.Thankfully, for the first ten miles was a climb, then flat, climb, flat, so we were able to recover each time;the scenery remained spectacular.Other that beautiful countryside, we passed very few homes, though this one on the hill was impressive, yet this has it’s appeal, too.Stopped for a picture of of the Falls of  Shin.We assume it is the River (or creek) that flows down from the Loch Shin, that we first saw on our approach to Lairg.The town’s only cafe was closed on Monday’s, so we stocked up at the grocery store and enjoyed  a picnic by the waterAs we pedaled away from the loch, the climbing really began, but there was no break on this stretch.  It was the type of road that looked relatively flat, but never gave the legs a break from pushing.  The mountains in the distance, with the clouds hanging on the top was brilliant.However, the size of the mountains seemed to further insult,as the eyes were telling the legs this terrain was flat.The high valley we biked through had been stripped of trees; there were no homes, livestock or wildlife, not even birds.  But there were small horseflies, that had nothing better to do (and no other meat to chew on) then fly around our heads as we slowly climbed.  As the clouds began their assault on the sun, it became very gray, almost surreal…..were we still in Scotland?Is there any civilization around here?

At 2:00 a strong north wind hit us in the face and the temperature dropped ten degrees, it was starting to hurt.  Twenty minutes later, we came to our first downhill in 17 miles.  Damp from our climbing the cold air chilled us, but we were happy for the break.  Our little downhill also brought green back to the landscape, though the clouds still hung heavy on the mountain top.Loch Naver in the distance was a great sign, it was our stop for the night.  We were tired after our 51 miles, but the scenery today was one of the best.  You Must Love the cold to live here; Altnaharra holds the record for the coldest place in the United Kingdom, -27° C (minus 80°F).

Our dinner, prepared by our hostess, Mandy, was even better than today’s scenery.Prawn cocktail, Divine Venison Stew finished by apple crumble and ice cream.  After dinner, we enjoyed delightful conversation with guest’s, Bryce and Lena from Edinburg, well into the evening.  With the sun setting so late, it’s hard to judge the time, but it was a wonderful evening.

Remember the song from the movie, Oklahoma?

“Oh, What a Beautiful Morning, 

 Oh, What a Glorious Day.”That is what our morning was like.  Our road snaked along the Lock Naver with only minor climbing but major views.There was no one around except the sheep that scurried away as we approached.  We were surprised to come upon this resident, anxious to talk, tell stories and let us know what to expect on the road ahead.The serene beauty of the loch seamlessly changed to the soothing music of the stream.The scenery that surrounded us was difficult to capture, the tranquility amazing, even as we rolled up and down the hills.The civilization we did encounter, seemed to always be trumped by the sheep.Though many had said how pretty the beach was as the River Naver reached the North Sea, we did not expect ……anything……like this.We slowly climbed up to Bettyhill, that rests at the top of the dramatic mouth to the North Sea. stopping occasionally for a photo and a chat.Still stuffed from last night’s dinner and then our full Scottish breakfast this morning, we skipped lunch in Bettyhill, but could not resist an ice cream.  No photo because we gobbled them up too fast.  What we did take note of is the wind from the sea coming at us!

We had been warned of the two steep climbs after BettyHill, that is of course, after you climb up to BettyHill.  We knew it would be bad when we could see our downhill quickly disappearing from view.  Mile long steep inclines were not what we were expecting and somehow we managed to find two more.  It took us over an hour to climb the eight miles and four hills with no help from the wind, but with one last drop we reached our village at the bottom of the hill.  With nothing really to see here and everything on a hill, we spent the afternoon looking for accommodations for the next couple of days.  The sparsely populated land, coupled with most B & B’s only having a couple rooms to rent made our search disheartening, at best.  A break for dinner seemed in order.  Venison stew again tonight, not quite Mandy’s caliber, but we were happy.A local Scotch nighcap to prepare for tomorrow.

Our Inn served a breakfast fit for a king; magnificent fresh fruit and a hearty “cooked” breakfast;it would be the highlight of our morning.

A quick dip for a fabulous view of the sea,then the climbing began.A strong east wind was rolling off the hills, barren from centuries of abuse; our east northeast route was going to be tough, today.  We could see the fog on the horizon, obscuring our view of the Orkney Islands in the distance.  The barren land offered no protection from the wind and only the occasional pasture.The wind was relentless, trying hard to beat us and winning.  The fog that hit us at eleven threw it’s own damp cold to the fun we were having.  Just before noon we were rescued from the windy uphill abuse, with a two mile downhill.  Though we had to pedal to maintain a downhill speed, it did not have the strain the hills had given us.  We stopped at the first place we could find for a big bowl of hot soup.From our seats in the diner, it looked as if the sun had broken through, so we were anxious to start the second half of our ride.  the blue patch of sky that had lured us away from our warm lunch, was quickly swallowed by the fog.  The cold quickly set in again as the wind continued it’s assault.  We could not tell if we were going uphill or not as the wind made every pedal stroke a struggle.  Our few pictures of the landscape

and coves, seem so serene as we write today’s ride from the warm comfort of our hotel room.  As the damp fog continued to roll across the fields like tumbleweed in the desert our views were reduced to that which was just a few feet in front of us.Our hotel was a half mile from the John O’Groats point.  Badly beaten from the hills and wind, we dropped our bags, grabbed our jackets and headed down the road.  Shrouded in fog, John O’Groats was a signpost and a photo.  It is also the northern most settlement in the United Kindgom.  Today was by far our toughest day of this tour, or maybe the contrast of yesterday’s most gorgeous was just too much of a contrast.  We were disappointed we had been denied the sea views, but we did take John O’Gorats off our bucket list.

We were still socked in this morning, the wind making the 55° temperatures feel more like freezing.  However, with the fog came the wind at our backs, as we turned around and headed back in the same direction we had come yesterday.  With the fog, we saw about the same amount (and things) as we did yesterday, but we enjoyed not having to push as hard to see it.  As we traveled further west and the sun started burning away some of the fog, the fields and picturesque coves (with their Caribbean blue waters) brightened with color.

Our discussions and free time the last few days have been spent trying to figure out how to bike the west coast AND stay in accommodations every night.  A little readjust and we came up with a new plan; take a train south.  After our 21 mile trek back to Thurso, we boarded a train to Inverness, where we will continue our journey to the west coast of Scotland.  We are hoping the room situation improves, but we are close to raising the white flag.  The situation improved in Inverness, where the hotel reception and bar are the same.  We may make it after all.

Sorry our tracker did not record us today, not sure if it’s a battery issue but will change as soon as we get back into civilization.

Low sixties in the sunshine is amazingly warm; a refreshing change from the past couple of days. Our departure from Inverness was again along the Beauty Firth,but this time we followed the south edge. For twenty miles we enjoyed a relatively flat course, retracing the route our train had taken yesterday; seeing the prettier side of the train stops.It was not until about mile 25 that we started climbing and the legs got into the rhythm of climbing and dropping; finally if felt good to be in the saddle again. The crystal blue skies accentuated the colors of the fields and the horses had lost their shaggy manes. At 11:00 a.m. with 28 miles completed, we stopped at the last outpost before we reached our destination. Though much too early for lunch, we opted to eat for the sake of the energy we would need. These little roadside canteens have become a ducky favorite; amazing food always served by a friendly proprietor.  The climbing continued after lunch, but not too steep and the small downhills were enough for a break without giving back all we had just climbed.

We traveled from one beautiful loch to another, connected by streams that wove through the river valley.  Hills starting at the water’s edge and reached to the sky. Ripples in the water spoke of the breeze that had been riding along with us.  Took a rest along the water, peaceful in the middle of nowhere; unit two F-16 flew by so close we could see the colors of the pilot’s eyes; never have we been so close and we’ve had many fly-bys back at home.  Another short break at 50 miles, before we started our toughest climb; be it because it was at the end of the day, or because it was just darn tough.  As we rounded mile two of our uphill trek, the wind turned in our face.   The wind coming up the other side from the narrow cut was cooling and we knew that meant we were close to the crest.  As we turned the corner down, the sight was amazing.  The photograph does not convey what we saw as we took the photo on the way down, not willing to stop; one of THE prettiest sights we have seen.  At 2:00, we came to a stop at the foot of our hotel (note the flower pots)k,57 miles completed.

Today’s ride did a lot to raise the spirits.  So what if we are traveling to a tourist spot, on a Saturday, with NO reservation, Everything booked and having to pitch a tent with the midges in the rain.  Tonight we enjoy with steak stew and a bottle of red!

What Goes Down, Must Go Up!

Hazy, warm and humid when we left this morning, just before 8:00 a.m.  Note that we are saying 68° is warm.  One block of flat, a turn and then climbing; the “looks flat, but is not” type of climbing.The captivating 3000 foot mountains  had us surrounded in our peaceful valley.

The sun was trying to break through  briefly lighting the hills,  the stream beside us  adding music to our pedal up and out of the valley.  Once again, the scenery was more spectacular than our photographs can convey.

Many of the locals equate this mountain ridge to the USA’s Mt. Rushmore, without the faces.  The surrounding hills  kept us mesmerized, some starting from our road edge and heading straight up   The lochs were equally impressive  as we snaked our way up  and (hopefully) out of this valley.  Within an hour the sky greyed totally, so we missed the play the sun would have had on the hills, but it was still an incredible site.  Though the climbing remained moderate the headwind that hit us at 11:00 made the hills feel much more aggressive.

Somewhere in the morning we seem to remember a downhill, but we are sure it did not last long.  Around noon the sky began to spit, then lightly shower.  Overheated from our climbing, the rain was cooling, so the raincoats remained tucked away.  An hour later, however, during our quick stop at the first village  we had seen in 25 miles, it started to pour.  Inside, we were enjoying our first flapjacks of the trip, wondering why we had not tried them earlier.  Re-fortiefied with sugar and raincoats we began our trek around three-quarters of the picturesque loch (about 10 miles); the ferry that made the direct route no longer ran.  Within a mile of our loop we experienced the first of three very tough 18% + grades, two of them a mile and a half long.  It took us several stops resting and equally difficult restarts to make it up each one; our legs and lungs were screaming, our heart beating hard against our chests.  The view back to the loch, was gorgeous,  even as we watched the waves of rain going by.  We waited for the wonderful downhill that would take us to our stop for the evening and put an end to this day of continuous climbing.   Miles longer than expected, we finally had a one mile downhill that led us to the small village where we had thankfully found a room for the evening.  Not sure how either of us made it, our entire bodies were spent from the continuous onslaught of today’s climbing, on top of the several tough days we’d already done.

The village was a wonderful surprise; taking the only room within a 60 mile radius leaves one to wonder what you are getting into.  Thankfully, the adorable village  was about two blocks long and extremely picturesque with palm trees, it was a treat.  This trek we pedaled today is a magnificent part of the country, but it was an extremely tough one on already very tired legs.  Maybe we should have tried these 54 miles in something other than a bicycle.As we were tucking ourselves away for the evening, the sun was kissing the hills goodnight and sending us a rainbow.