Post 18, Day 12; Closure

Waking in the truly awful Royal Hotel In Thurso this morning, wasn't a great start but the knowledge that only a short 30 mile ride came between us and our final goal, spurred us on to the point that we were soon raring to go ... and go we did, at full pace for Dunnet head, the most Northerly point of the U.K, where we would stop briefly before progressing onwards the last 20 miles, to John O Groats.

My chain had received some much needed TLC over night and was running smooth (still, I picked up an emergency power link in the local bike shop...just in case), giving me the confidence to push it hard. We crept up to an average speed of 25 MPH, impressive in this exposed environment, and moved ahead.

The road was flat and featureless, offering little of any interest other than a forceful headwind and,  as we each turned off for the 12 mile detour to Dunnet, the pack began to brake up. Instinctively and without discussion, we each gave one another space, some were emotional, some were introspective and all wanted a little room to themselves, to take in the enormity of our achievement.

Dunnet Head, whilst an important destination was a slight disappointment to me, not because of its look or position (both wild and beautiful) but because, for the very first time on this ride, the detour to the head required us to retrace our steps back to the main road. I preferred the feeling of constant progression that I had enjoyed throughout the tour and was keen to find new tarmac to explore.

John O Groats awaited.

We left the head, riding more slowly with a sense of slight bewilderment and after another 20 miles of featureless road and relentless headwind, we found ourselves holed up in the "Sea View" hotel a few hundred yards from John O Groats...whilst we waited.

Spirits were high and each of us did our best to ignore our proximity to the goal, drank instant coffee and welcomed the rest of the group as they arrived in dribs and drabs. After a while, we were all gathered and ready for final-final leg, represented by a short roll along the road to John O Groats.

Then, we were off...en-mass for the crossing of the finish line.

My chain had held, as did my legs and after 1000 miles of riding across England Wales and Scotland, we were here...in one successful group, no failures, no drop outs... all winners ....and all elated.

I did it!!!

I rode from Lands End to John O Groats, in the late Summer of 2013 with 20 mates and one fantastic, beautiful and totally dependable bike.

What ever next........

HOLD ON!!!, 

I need to add something to this day .. .an addendum if you will.

Once our celebrations at John O'Groats (JOG) had finished...which took a while, The DA team loaded the bikes onto the two support vans, while we grabbed coffees and reminisced about the miles we had covered and the journey we had each taken.

After picking up a packed lunch (again DA sorted this) we loaded ourselves onto a coach and prepared to travel, for the first time in two weeks, through the landscape under the power of something other than our own legs.

It was odd, to not be shouting "HOLE" or "CAR UP!" at various times and even more odd just how slowly the coach seemed to travel. It took over 3 hours to drive from J.O.G to Inverness. I couldn't help think that we, with our now strong legs and even firmer spirit, could have managed it in less time by bike.

I was delirious of course.

When we eventually arrived at the Hotel some of us separated to our rooms for a uncommonly early shower, a spruce up and in some instances a snooze. The remainder of the group scuttled off into town in search of gifts for loved ones, souvenirs and proper coffee. I did all three and somewhere along the way incorporated a snooze too, Costa can be accommodating that way.

When we reconvened at the hotel for our celebration dinner, Angus (My ride Buddy) and I took to the bar. Over a pint Angus commented that he had never been in a hotel that was occupied almost entirely by cyclists who had ridden across Britain.

We were a rowdy bunch that night. Philip had been secretly organising a surprise (since the ferry trip in Largs) and presented each and everyone of us with a smashing, engraved medal. We all felt like Olympians and it added a level of achievement to the ever noisier commotions.

We were a real team, with badges to prove it!

Some drank, some nattered, all laughed...and some even grabbed the rare chance of a decent wifi connection, to blog it all up

But what fianlly made the evening special was the utterly surprising and totally out of character appearance by Don, "The Don".

Up until now Don-The Don had presented himself as a strong willed, no nonsense chap big on action and not one to dally in the sentimental or creative aspects of life.

until tonight.

The room was ushered to a quiet murmur and to the raucous sound of bagpipes in full glory, The Don entered all red faced and puffing cheeks, to deliver  a near faultless rendition of Scotland the Brave...on his own set of Bagpipes, brought along especially for the opportunity.

It was awesome, perfectly apt, emotional and utterly ... utterly surreal.

Thanks Don, there were times when watching you ride full pelt down hill on the wrong side of the road, scared the absolute bejesus out of me ...  but tonight you showed us all your true colours.

well played The Don.

• << BACK TO INDEX

Want More? 

 London to Brussels Blog

 London to Paris Blog