Wheel Keen

Photos - The Run to Stirling!

2007-07-23T02:17:00.000+10:00

Photos - Highlands (2)

2007-07-23T01:46:00.000+10:00

Crianlarich to Stirling - 73k - Sat 21 July

2007-07-22T18:09:00.000+10:00

We wanted an early start. The midgees wanted an earlier one! We were happy to leave this place behind, nice as it was because the midgees didn't leave us alone. We headed off down the A85 towards Killin, but would be turning south to Stirling at the tiny hamlet of Lix, just 8k away, where the famous 'Kyber Pass of Scotland' would begin, and hopefully the flat rail trail for bikes on the NCN 7 that was promised to avoid it.

The road started to rise a mile or so before Lix - by Lix we were doing it hard in low gears, and as the road turned south beyond Lix it got steeper for the next 2k where we reached what I thought to be a temporary summit, in anticipation of the real 'Pass' to come. What we had done was not so bad. At the crest we found the NCN 7 (using the old railway line to Killin), so we hopped on that, leaving the highway and the steep climbs. From the rail trail, which I must say was fantastic, we could see that the road then dropped steadily for mile after mile, while we stayed high up on the old railway line. The truth is that there never was Pass, and in fact the road continued to descend until it met Loch Lubnaig, and remained flat all the way to Stirling. The climbing we did was the 'steep' section that the guy said to avoid at all costs!

The rail trail was great though. It crossed some viaducts, giving superb sights across the Glen, and down on villages, farmhouses and the road full of traffic. But after 7k it finished, dropping by a series of tight S bends in concrete down to roaf level where it turned us out on tracks, old bits of road and paths winding up and down through forests with tough short hills, tight bends and all adding to extra distance.

It took us away from the road several miles into the village of Balquhidder, which we would not have normally visited, but it was the village where the great Scottish revolutionary Rob Roy was buried with his wife in the ruins of the village cathedral. Buried with him was his son who was hanged by the authorities for abduction of a woman. We kept faith with the NCN as it then took us across country again, just adding miles to a day when we really didn't need it, and after several more miles of mountain bike riding (where you'd be in your element Angus!) on dirt paths with steep sections where we just made the crests - (which is not meant for touring bikes laden with panniers!) we decided that enough was enough and took the first chance to get back on the highway at the village of Strathyre. After Balquhidder, as we were wrestling with the tight ascents and twists and turns of what was the old road, it dawned on me that this would have been the road travelled by Queen Victoria, who labelled this section as Scotlands equivalent to the Khyber Pass. We were probably on it, so rather than the NCN avoiding it, it probably put us on it! We got off anyway.

From the highway, we were in high gear immediately and flying along the Loch at high twenties and thirties, which is basically how we covered the final 30k or so to STirling. The Highlands had disappeared now, and the land was flat, and the road good. Julie led the way for the final 40k or so, and rode superbly. She has certainly improved and become a competent cyclist. It is a thrill to see her climb mountains with determination, to rise out of her seat and take on the steepest climbs. She is hard to keep with on the flats - I tell her its because I carry more load - but she has done superbly well since the early days after leaving PAris.

After meeting Hamish the Highland Bull, who was just a crowd pleaser, entertaining the crowd through his fence at the hamlet of Kilmahog (he was a 500kg version of a labrador puppy), we cruised the rest of the way, via lunch stop at Callander, to Stirling.

We were about 6k out, the flat road heading straight for Stirling, when Julie shouted that we could see the Wallace Monument, a high point from where it is believed William Wallace viewed and commanded the Battle of Stirling Bridge in 1290 something. Just a mile or so later the great Stirling Castle came into clear view, the road lined up perfectly with it, so we had it in a sights for the remainder of the way. We stopped just on the edge of town for photos with the castle as the backdrop, then at the town sign also with the castle as the backings creen, and then we cycled into this most marvellous o Scottish towns. It was said of the Scottish Kings that if you take Stirling, you take Scotland such was its geographical significance.

It was at 3pm on Saturadya afternoon, 21 July that our bikes finally came to rest outside the Alpine Bike Shop in Murray Place, across the road from Willy Wallace Backpackers, our home for the next two days. The Apline Bike shop had promised me two boxes for the bikes. We turned off our computer at 3486k, just 14k short of our estimated 3500k.

Our great ride was over, but certainly not the adventure. Life for us is full of exciting challenges. Julie has said she has an agreement with her bike to give it a rest for a while. I think mine will need some tlc before it goes on another adventure.

This was a massive undertaking, but we looked at each other with a glint in our eyes as if we knew we were thinking the same thing - we pulled off something that was seemingly impossible, with the good grace and blessing of the Lord Himself whose presence we were continually aware of.

Thats the end of the ride story, but given another chance here today I will add some reflections when time permits.

As I write it is Sunday morning 22 July, our free day in Stirling. As has been the case with every free day except Kilchoan, and every big town - it is raining, a fitting tribute to our trip where for some five of the seven weeks of the ride, it rained on our parade.

We are very grateful for the faith, love and prayers of a lot of people back home whom we know followed and supported us with great love and affection. We will be home soon, but our hearts are in Scotland, and as the sign says that we have seen so often leaving Scottish villages 'Haste ye back again'.

Thats a definite!

Glencoe to Crianlarich - 73k - Fri 20 July

2007-07-22T17:53:00.000+10:00

It is hard to give credit to such spellbinding magnificence as the mountain of Glen Coe. We were packed and riding just after 9:30am, wondering whether we were riding into steep climbs. But we had to ride nevertheless. The place was a photographic paradise. After stopping at the Glencoe Visitors Centre, we headed up the Glen. The bottom line is that for 27k we climbed in altitude, but we didn't mind because the road ran up the Glen, always gradually rising, and although it was low gears all the way, with Julie preferring her bigger gears but out of the saddle, we climbed out to the top of the Glen and through the PAss of Glen Coe. The views back were just spectacular, the mountains and their rugged beauty failing in words that capture them. We took photos knowing full well they would appear nothing like the scenes before us.

Through the Pass we entered Rannock Moor, nothing like below but still beautiful in its own way. Its here we passed the sign that said that at 28k we had climbed to 1140ft to the top of Rannock Moor. The moor opened out enabling the bikes to move along much faster, we were looking for a great spot to make lunch, which we eventually found alongside a Loch that lies in the centre of the Moor. We then pressed on with now heighted views of Loch Tulla still on top, but then we had a delightful long but steep descent that took us down and along the Loch for many miles.

We were keen to get to our camp by now, which was still a way off, and some 10k past the village of Crianlarich. The hamlet of Bridge of Orchy came next, from where we knew it was still a further 30k. Tyndrum had a TIC, so we stopped, and the fellow told us about the steep climb the following day, and the NCN alternative, saying Queen Victoria called that stretch (Glen of Orgy) the Khyber Pass of Scotland. We were grateful for the information, and couldn't wait for the moment to come!

Crianlarich is another lovely but small village at one end of Glen Dochart, along which we now turned, still on the A85, for the final 10k to the caravan park. It had been a solid day, especially the 28k or so uphill from Glencoe village to the top of the Moor. We were following the river Dochart, so the road was nice and flat, and eventually the welcoming signs of the Dochart Caravan Park enticed us finally off the road, as did the welcoming band of midgees who were lying in wait for us about which we could do little except cover ourselves in good old aussie aeroguard and stay in the tent for the night. Two days later we are both still scratching!

It was a great day, and as we prepared for bed in our tent we realised with some sadness that this would be the final night in the tent, the final meal on our fantastic little Trangia cooker, and the final walk to the shower block running the gauntlett through a waiting army of little midgees!

It was our third day in a row without rain!

Kilchoan to Glencoe - 86k - Thurs 19 July

2007-07-22T06:07:00.000+10:00

It was grey and overcast as we peddled out of this idyllic little community by the sea, just across the Loch from the Isle of Mull and the beautiful village of Tobermory. The first 6k was a roller coaster with tough ups and downs as we climbed out of the village, the ruins of castle Mingary just to our right. At the 6k mark we had reached akind of summit, where ahead of us we could see the village of Kilmory, then across the sea to the Isle of Mudle, with the outline of the ruggedness of Skye behind it. We turned east though, and completed the long collar around the back of Mt Hiant, with its long and delightful descent now with the Holy Mountain on our right, and to the west, past where several villages were cleared of families to make way for sheep for the Mingary Estate.

The remaining 20k back to Salen was just as tough as the way out, following the rugged coast with its climbs, drops but always beautiful scenery, through Britains national treasure of Sunart Oakwoods, but today no rain. We hit the A861, and still in an easterly direction, continued the tough road with its long climbs and steep descents that wound its way to the village of Stontian, where we had lunch in the park.

From Stontian we cut through the Glen of Tarbert, which gently climbs into the Glen, then gently descends - the rough country having now smoothed out to make it really glorious cycling, as we approached the ferry that ran from Ardour to Corran, the last several miles tracking the coast again with its many examples of cute houses that date from the earliest time of the crofts. The ferry was a welcome sight, and crossing just a delight as we looked up Loch Linnhe to Fort William and Ben Nevis for the final time.

We turned south on the A82 tracking the shores of the southern reach of Loch Linnhe, through the pretty village of Onich, and then veering east again up into the great Glen Coe. We went through North Ballachulish, from where the Glen opened up to us in all its great and unparralled beauty. The bridge that took us from the northern shore of now Loch Leven to the southern was just a spectacle, the road now tracking the southern shore of the Loch. The mountains and their splendour are unequalled in the english language. I personally don't think I have seen anything as majestic and spellbinding as the scene before us, with enormous highlands on both sides reaching to over 3300ft running all the way up the Glen, with the tiny village of Glencoe nestled just a mile away on the shores of the Loch, with a beautiful caravan park right on the edge.

We camped here, our tent just metres from the shore, but a tiny speck compared to the beautiful mountains that otherwise surrounded us on all sides now. Glencoe was the scene of the terrible Glencoe massacre in 1692, when after a failure by the head of the MacDonald Clan to give written assurance of his allegiance to the King, soldiers were dispatched who for weeks were hosted in the homes of the MacDonald clan, but who then received orders to kill every one of them under the age of 70yrs. The Clan chief was first to be murdered by gunshot, followed by his wife, and then followed 36 more - men women and boys and girls. The beautiful valley was the backdrop for such a terrible atrocity, for which leaders were later punished.

We slept here the night, looking forward but with some trepidation to the journey through the Geln the next day to our final camp at the village of Crianlarich.

Kilchoan - rest day - Wed 18 July

2007-07-19T01:39:00.001+10:00

We woke to a lovely blue sky, occasional puffy white cloud and a gentle breeze off the water of Loch Sunart. Yesterday was a tough ride to Kilchoan, on the western end of the Ardnamurchan peninsula, virtually the western extremity of mainland Britain. We left Fort William in lovely sunshine, it was a fantastic run down the 12k or so to the Corran ferry, and the crossing gave glorious views back up the Loch to Fort William and Ben Nevis (4,000ft and highest in Britain).

By the time we got another 20k, the heavens opened and for the next hour we had more water dumped on us than I seem to recall. We had to keep going. The road was tough, long hills at times, and also steep long declines which is scary in drenching rain and very little brakes. This kept up as we turned west onto the 30k run to Kilchoan, only to change into sunshine again just before we hit the glorious climb up behind the neck of the Holy Mount, Ben Hiant which rises 1700ft, with the tiny but pretty village of Kilchoan on its western side. The weather is so fickle and unpredictable. We are glad the body is weatherproof, as are 'Pommie Pete's Ortlieb panniers that he lent me just before we left, for which I am daily grateful. Julie's are another story.

Today though was different. No bikes today. Julie is a Stewart, and our ride is more than a bike ride. It is physical for sure, but also spiritual. We are pilgrims, not just tourists. Julie is a daughter of Kilchoan and Sanna Bay. Coming here is not just as a tourist, but as a pilgrim to touch something of her past, her rich heritage which seeps from the very rocky outcrops of these heather covered hills.

The Stewarts were in the front line of Bonnie Prince Charles fight to regain the English and Scottish Crown at the battle of Culloden. There were 500 of them, the Prince himself of the royal line of Stewarts (he was Stuart, the french form from Mary Queen of Scots). The charge of the Highlanders ended in defeat and disaster, and the repercussions and aftermath led to much further bloodshed. We don't really know why the Stewarts were eventually found to be living at Sanna Bay, just around the headland from Kilchoan, a hundred years after the great battle that changed Scottish history forever, one of these being Julie's great great grandfather.

Following Culloden, things became quite difficult for people living in the highlands. One of the things that saved them was the introduction of potatoes, which could be grown in poor soil. They also made money from kelp (seawead), which was used for glass and soap production. Fishing was also a flourishing industry. But all this changed when cattle prices fell, kelp was no longer needed, and the fish had moved on. People struggled, and landowners saw money in something else - sheep. Families living on land owned under the old clan system were moved on (cleared) to make way for sheep. This happened later on the Ardnimurchan peninsular than other parts of Scotland. Families were cleared off lands where they'd been for generations under the old clan system, to make way for sheep farming by the land holders. Families ended up in scattered groups on impoverished soil, and expected to survive.

Sanna Bay was one such place. Villages that existed around the Ben Hiant grasslands were all cleared, and many families ended up at Sanna Bay and Portuairk, a neighboring bay. Thats where several Stewart families were known to be living in the 1840's and 50's, one of them Julie's direct ancestors. They are buried in the lovely little cemetery on the hillside overlooking the beautiful bay of the village of Kilchoan.

We sat there today, having climbed the lovely green hillside. We found numerous graves of the Stewarts, all of Sanna Bay. We knew her great great great grandparents (Allan and Mary Stewart) were buried in this cemetery, but no headstone could be found (many are unmarked). We sat there. In Julie's hand she had her Aussie flag that came with her from Australia. It flew behind her on the bike all the way from PAris, across Normandy, and into Dorset, Devon and Cornwall. The flag followed her up through England, across the Scottish border into the Highlands, to a destiny on a sunny morning overlooking Kilchoan Bay. She dearly wanted to leave her flag, sort of a part of her and the nation that had now become part of her, on the grave of her ancestor, but she was not confident of which grave. Where to put it, she just was not sure.

We looked up behind the cemetery to another hill. We were hoping we might see Sanna Bay, so we walked over the heather and between the thistles to the high mount overlooking the town, and especially the cemetery. When we finally reached the summit, we knew what to do with her Aussie flag. Someone had been there before us. They had made an altar of rocks from around the hillside. It was't tall, but an altar it was. The Scottish would call it a 'cairn'. It was obviously done with meaning, because the top rock was painted especially blue, with the white cross of St Andrew on the blue background - the national flag of Scotland.

It was a touching moment for us, as Julie gently placed her Aussie flag in the top of the altar of rocks, the flag contrasting so beautifully with the Cross of St Andrew painted on the rock. We couldn't quite see Sanna Bay, but we could see the cemetery as if we had been suspended over the top, we could see Kilchoan bay, the isle of Mull to the south across the water, and the outline of the rugged hills of the isle of sky beyond Sanna Bay. We stood holding each other - it was a tender moment for two pilgrims who had cycled a long way for this, especially one - a daughter of Kilchoan and Sanna Bay - who had somehow wanted to honour those who had gone before, and her great great grandparents (Allan and Anne Stewart) who, possibly following the clearances of 1853, and only newly married, decided to leave their families and the the hardship of Sanna Bay, and sail to Victoria, Australia to start a new life in 1854.

We fought our tears as we stood on top of this mountain, watching the flag flutter in the breeze, giving thanks to God for His incredible providential care of the Stewart family, the generations, and especially those a long way off in our own land of Australia.

We turned many times as we walked the long way back to Kilchoan Bay, for the final flutter of the little blue flag before it disappeared behind the heather. We felt it was worth the struggle to get out on such a tough road, the drenching of heavy rain, and now to face again the road back, to in this small way make contact with the generations that had gone before, and the rich heritage we have now to build upon. The rest of the day was just beautiful, neither of us wanting to face the thought of our departure on the bike early the following morning, but face it we did.

Fort William to Kilchoan - 87k - Tues 17th july

2007-07-19T01:31:00.000+10:00

We decided to change our planned route, and cut straight to Kilchoan the 'short' way via the Corran Ferry, rather than the long way round past Glenfinnan where the Bonnie Prince Charles Memorial is (where he raised his standard and called the rebels to the cause, which resulted in the debacle at Cullodden). It meant also missing the famous Glenfinnan viaduct, the rail bridge that features on Harry Potter with the Jacobite Steam Railway.

It also meant we would arrive at Kilchoan a day earlier, and therefore spend a free day at Kilchoen, where Julie's ancestral family originate.

I have run out of time on the net here at the Kilchoen Community Centre, so will complete this when we get to Stirling.

Suffice to say, we had a solid ride to get to Kilchoen, the Adrnamurchin penonsular a tough ride for any cyclist, with massive clombs up behind the holy Mountain Ben Hiant at 1700ft straight out of the sae.

But today (our rest day), we walked and rode our bikes at great leisure on a beautiful sunny day all over Kilchoen. We spent ages at the old cemetrery, and I want to tell you what Julie did with her Aussie flag that she has flown behind her bike for the last 3200k's - when I have more time.

It has been aspecial day.

We ride out tomorrow - back over the same ground - to Glencoe - the sight of the Glencoe masacres - then up through Crianlarich - some of the highesy mountains in Scotland - for hopefully a downhill finish at Stirling on Saturday.

So I'll fill this bit in with more detail later. We are both fine - I am much thinner than when I left, but ever so glad and enriched for this experience.

Until then - we send our love - Kelvin and Julie

Fort Augustus to Fort William - 53k - Mon 16th July

2007-07-19T01:22:00.000+10:00

It rained through the night, and was still raining in the morning. We ate in the tent, and had to make the dreaded decision to pack up in the rain, and head off. The tent was packed dripping wet, as were we before we even got on the bike. It rained all the way to Fort William, but it was nevertheless a great day.

Its not very comfortable, but the scenery is still gtreat, although there was lots of mist and lots of water everywhere. After several miles I decided we would still have photos, so we risked the camera, which was wet anyway in my back pocket. We were following the Caledonian canal, which opened up eventually to Loch Oich, then Loch Lochie all the way to Fort William.

About 10miles before Fort William the road cuts away from the Loch, and rises for quite some time. I think its harder riding long hills in the heavy rain. However, we knew eventually thatw e would come out on top of a high point at the wonderful Memorial to the British Commandos, the Green Berets. It was pouring with rain, but we pulled, our feet and legs were frozen with the cold, our hands seemed numb, but we kind of reflected that conditions for many of these brave young men would have been far worse, so we took time in the rain to view the memorial and read the memorial plaques that were there. The saddest of all were the last tributes - to young men just recently killed in actions in Iraq and Afganistan, as recently as weeks past.

We headed off, and immediately the road plummeted down into the village of Spean Bridge, across the bridge, and on our final approach of some 15k or so to Fort William. Sadly, the highest mountain on mainland Britain, Ben Nevis, was fogged in as we cycled past its base. We never saw the top.

We arrived in Fort William cold, wet and a bit bedraggled, having decidied it was no time to set up a soggy tent in the wet and raining conditions. We found a room at the Bank St Lodge, and spent a happy night there meeting lots of other mostly younger visitors from around the world.

Evanton to Fort Augustus - 81k - Sun 15th July

2007-07-19T01:07:00.000+10:00

We woke to a perfectly beautiful day. Some wind, but the sun was shing and the sky was blue. It was a great day for our meeting with the Loch Ness monster just a few miles to the south!

We took the A862 to Dingwall, then on to Conon Bridge and Muir of Ord, all small villages but very pretty. The countryside was beautiful, espeically as we followed the coastline of the Cromarty Firth for quite some time until heading off into the countryside. Once into the countryside, the roads started to climb, not so much steeply but long and gradual, making us work hard nevertheless.

We were obviously climbing up and over high country before we took a dive down onto the shores of Loch Ness. We were on the A833, and the stretch across country was about 20k which got harder and harder, but the sights of the mountains around us were so attractive. We were aiming for the village of Drumnadrochit on the shores of Loch Ness, but for a long while it seemed all up and not down. We crested the mountain section finally, and there was the sign - 15% descent down into the village of Milton, one mile from 'the Drum'.

It was a very fast drop, with two severaly steep sections. We were just thinking to ourselves that we were glad we didn't have to ridse back up. We had lunch at this very very attractive little town, which was full of tourists and touristy shops with coffee and Scottish souviners. We had one of our bike lunches, and headed off for the ruins of Urquart Castle, which was where the road meets Loch Ness. It was a long pull up and out of the town, but the views of Loch Ness were just startling, a photographic paradise. We just ahd to stop numerous times and adore the scenery. The boats out on the Loch made it look like a watery paradise.

Over the top the castle ruins came into view. This is one of the great castles, but ruined really by the massive car park and high wall separating the castle from any public view unless you may the highly exorbitent price. Being cyclists, we can stop at places where cars have no chance, and we had the best views from high above looking down over the castle, and avoided the massive charges and queues of people. From there we followed Loch Ness for its full length heading for the Lch village of Fort Augustus.

Some 6 miles from Fort Augustus, we came to the little village of Invermoriston, which has a small shop, but a beautiful old bridge across the river at the bottom of Loch Ness. We shouted something like 'coffee' to break the time up before our final leg. I stopped for a photo, Julie went around the corner for the bridge, and I thought she just cycled on. So I then cycled around the corner and saw no sight of her, and I took photos off the bridge, before setting off after her. I rode the fastest 10k to Fort Augustus of our 3000k journey and caught no sight of her, not knowing that she had wheeled around the corner into a car park at Invermoriston, to look for the coffee shop. Realising that I was not there, she set off after me, and I didn't know that she was chasing me!

I got to Fort Augustus with no sign of her, parked my bike in the middle of the street, and walked into the TIC, when a very puffing Julie pulls up just minuts after me. Realising what we had both done, we had a great laugh, both of us breaking our 'pb's - the fastest 10k of the whole journey. We slept well at the beautiful camping ground with magnificent views of stunning mountains all around.

Helmsdale to Evanton - 92k - Sat 14 July

2007-07-19T00:55:00.000+10:00

We woke to w et and windy day, it having rained most of the night. We rolled out of town, with a southerly wind into our faces, across the new bridge built from the stones of the old Helmsdale castle. The castle would have been better. Instead, they built a memorial on the spot to the families affected by the land clearances - we could see an aussie flag blowing from our hotel window - there were several flags of the countries who accepted familes as immigrants who were sadly affected by this. The road south basically followed the lovely coastline. \while never flat, it was pretty despite the hard work always into the wind.

We were dressed in our full cold weather gear today. I must say \i made a mistake with yesterdays report - I mentioned Dunrobin Castle - well it was todays trip, not yesterday. As we approached the village of Goldspie, the beautiful castle stood out much like the fantasy castle of Walt Disney. It was a sight to behold, along with the rugged remains of the 2000yr old 'cairn' fort on the side of the road just before the castle.

We aimed for the town of Dornoch for lunch. Off the highway, we had to firstly cross the Loch Fleet - always a lovely bridge with its turnoff to Lairg where we had been days before. The road swept se, from where we turned off on to narrow farm lanes for several miles with great sights of farms, staone walls and the waters of the Firth. Dornoch is famous for the final execution of Englands last 'witch' trial, and as the home of Duncan Ross the father figure of modern Golf. It has a 13th century Cathedral. We loved the town, and always sad to leave without taking it all in.

We headed across country again for several k before coming to the long bridge that crosses the Dornoch Firth, which we could see several days earlier on our way north from closer to Bonar Bridge and Strui Hill. The wind was that strong we had to hang on for dear life. It was cutting across us and we were very exposed.

After Tain, we counted the miles down still fighting with the wind, until we got into the cover of the lovely tree lined minor road that took us to the tiny village of Evanton. We started our final leg into the far north from Evanton some 4-5 days earlier. The camping ground is a picture, besde the River Glass and set against the beautiful dark forest on the mountains behind, featured in Harry Potter.

We were glad to be in. Sometime during the afternoon the rain stopped, but the wind stayed strong. We had a nicely protected camp site, and by now it just seemed like a lovely summer's afternoon. We enjoyed one of our 'special' dinners on the Trangia!

John O'Groats to Helmsdale - 87k - Fri 13 July

2007-07-17T00:56:00.000+10:00

It was a cool and overcast day when we finally said goodbye to John O'Groats, the original ferry service set up by Jan de Groot several hundred years earlier, by authority of the King of Scotland in order to get a formal connection to the Orkneys, and claim greater ownership from Norway of the 63 or so islands that make up the group. The long but gentle hiil out went on for several kilometers, giving occasional glimpses back over the basically flat dairy countryside.

The wind was blowing now from the south, so we faced it all day. I guess when you have been in a country as long as we have, you should expect to get the wind from all directions. We have had a good share. The sceneray was lovely nevertheless. We were on the A99 heading for the town of Wick about 26k away. It wasn't long before we picked up the outline of the great Noss Head sticking out into the North Sea, and then the faint outlines of the two castles, Girnigo and Sinclair.

We soon arrived at Wick, but because we had our sights set on the village of Latheron for lunch, another 26k, we just cycled straight through and out the other side, climbing up a reasonable hill to the top on the bottom side. We stopped for a 'breather', then put our heads down and kept going. It was hard work into the head wind. There were numerous long inclines that kept us working hard into the wind. We had the ocean to our left, and mostly visible, and lovely rural scenes passing to our right, with loads of evidence of generations of old and the disused stones houses and buildings that stand these days more as stone memorials to the past. We were in Caithness after all.

We could see the dreaded signs of rain in the distance, so we pulled over just in time to cover up and put coats on. Then the heavens opened on us, yet again! The coastline was occasionally dramatic, with cliffs and beautiful steep fields leading to the edges, all the time we were going up and down, the longer inclines making it serious going for us. The rain made things miserable enough for us to just want to be in our rooms at Helmsdale, but we still had a while to go.

Latheron came at last, but was more a hamlet of scattered houses with lovely coastal views, so we had lunch in the standing position looking out over fields of sheep, the ocean and the network of lovely ancient stone walled paddacks, having our banana and apples sandwiches.

We had 32k to go to Helmsdale. There were two towns in between, each seemed to be in a deep cravass, which probably meant steep descents and then steep ascents. Dunbeath wasn't so bad. It was a long descending open road with a corresponding long sweeping rise again to the top, over the Dunbeath Water. It was a great view, but a slow long pull out the other side.

Berridale was next. It started with the warning sign - 14% descent - and the road really dropped suddenly, with tight curves dropping all the way to the bottom. I stopped for photos from the top, but Julie just dived down. I was still taking photos when I saw her lonely figure so small in the distance having started the ginormously steep ascent out of the valley on the other side. Then I followed. I measrued 2k from bottom to top, and it was a killer. Julie chose the walk from about half way, to enjoy the staggering view better. It made the sweat drip down the face. It was a very tough long climb, which after 2k kept climbing for nseveral more but at a much lesser rate.

On the final approach to Helmsdale, we passed the very beautiful Dunrobin Castle, and popped in. We also passed a 2,000yr old 'cairn', the remains of a stone fort, just at the side of the road. The final descent into Helmsdale started from about 5k out, and spiralled around the dramatic coastline, dropping in to the village like a glider. We were doing 50kph on our descent, the view just glorious. When we finally came to a stop at the bottom on the edge of the little village with its own dock, set against incrediblly steep and stunning hills to the back, we looked for our Hoetl - the Belgrave Arms. They had lost our reservation, but had a room anyway, and we were glad to be inside, out of the weather. We had worked very hard today, and glad to have a television and a jog to make 'bottomless' coffee.

Tomorrow we get back to Evanton, from where we started our final assault on the northern coasts of Scotland, before heading to Fort William, Kilchoan and then finally to Stirling in a week's time to bring our great cycling adventure to an end.

We are grateful for your continuing thoughts and prayers. Until then.....K&J

Bettyhill to John O'Groats! - 86k - Thurs 12 July

2007-07-15T19:45:00.000+10:00

We woke in our upstairs room at the Bettyhill Hotel to rain and cold conditions outside. The mist had rolled in from the west, giving very poor visibility in any direction. It was a cold and bleak departure from this tiny village perched on a craggy hilltop on the rugged northern coastline of Scotland.

At 10am we rolled away, and immediately the road plummeted back to the bottom of a very steep hill. The book told us we would have 6 very steep climbs in the first 17 miles (25k). This was to get us at a sea level start for the first one, which started at the bottom, and immediately went up. It was a tough climb, but not as bad as we've had. Julie went straight up and over the top. She is doing extremely well on the bike now. I suspect also she is scenting the salt air of John O'Groats just down the road, and the achievement of something that just started as a dream - to ride her bike from 'End to End'.

We climbed to great heights with staggering scenery despite the very wet conditions and low misty cloud. The coastlline is extremely rugged, and the hills have dramatic drops which give the place a lot of character. We were meeting loose sheep along the roads, who also grazed on the very steep slopes away from the road. It was startling to look down into the valleys, and especially back towards Bettyhill down the valley which was just a picture. It would have been quite startling in good weather and bright sunshine.

We climbed the 2nd of our long climbs and over the top, and were on a very fast descent before the third, going down into the little village of Armadale. It was a long open sweeping descent, and we were doing 40kph with Julie just in front of me. With wet road and the kind of descent we were doing, your eyes just watch the road. We didn't see the sign - they are always so well signed, but we both saw it in front of us and there was nothing we could do - certainly couldn't brake - but a cattle grid had suddenly loomed into our path. Julie hit it first with simply a 'blip' and then I did the same - I think our hearts stopped beating for a few seconds wondering what would become of us - but we went over it just like a car would - actually we hardly felt it. But when you condider its made of parallel railway tracks about 6'' apart, it is quite an obstacle for a bike! We always walk across them.

We did the third long climb - none of them being too tough for Julie. She is really impressive today. We passed through the village of Strathie, and then the turn off to 'Brawl' - wondering what it was that gave its name! We were counting off the climbs, and I think we got to four, wondering where the final two were, because we were running out of distance. The fifth one loomed into the picture somewhere before Melvich, and for some reason we couldn't find the 6th, or we had climbed it and not counted it because it didn't seem like such a tough climb.

The rugged coastline and solid hills turned into flat farming country after about 39k, and it was like this all the way to John O'Groats. We picked up the speed, and flew the long flats and gentle downhills, stopping a fair bit to take photos. We had crossed the border from County Sutherland with its strong gaelic influence, into County Caithness with its strong influence from the Nords. The place was rather rocky, and there was incredible evidence of the early Nordic settlements, with especially the formations and constructions that they did with the unique slated rock that is prevalent throughout Caithness.

Caithness used to belong to the Norse Earldom under fee to the King of Norway along with the Orkneys, until 1266 when it was ceded to the Scottish Crown in the Treaty of Perth. We passed through Thurso (named after Thor the god of war by the Nords) eventually coming across the Dounreay Nuclear Power Station, which seems to be a blight on this otherwise beautiful and natural countryside.

Somthing for Grandad Stewart to research - the Power Station is built on an old WW2 airfield which you may wish to follow up. The runway is now used as the carpark, and looks incredible from a heighted distance. We passed the Queen Mother's former residence, the Castle of Mey at the village of Mey, with Dunnet Head the northern most point of British mainland now very prominent. We had been able to see the shadowy Orkney's for quite some time, in which was also Scapa Flow.

We were able to use the big gears a lot now, and enjoyed the cycling. The rain had cleared and the roads were rather dry now, but the sky still mostly overcast. We were keen to get to John O'Groats before 5pm so we didn't miss the little man who takes the official photos!

We had lunch in any case at Thurso, then set off for the final leg. It was 3pm and we had 32k to go, and we rolled into the long straight into John O'Groats at just after 4:30pm, having done remarkably well given the heavy loads we carry. I sat behind Julie all the way. Being the unit's official photographer, I have to keep stopping while I tell Julie to keep riding and I'll catch her. I am sure she rides faster so making it harder for me to catch her again!

The area around JOG is very flat farming land. Many might say its unspectacular, but I didn't think so. We were quite keyed up, having come this far and to finally reach this great milestone. The first thing that came into view was the Seaview Hotel with the official welcome sign to John O'Groats township. We stopped for our own photos here, first I took Julie's photo, then I had to line up beside the post for Julie to take. In juggling the heavy bike into position, it overbalanced the wrong way, and I went down with the 'ship', sprawled on the road intertwined in the bike, making a great spectacle for passers by. Having ridden all this way, I fall off the bike at the John O'Groats welcome sign!

We rolled down to the dock where the TIC was located, along with the John O'Groats hotel and several other touristy shops. It is a really lovely sight, We lined up for the official photo and happily paid the man his few pounds, and he also happily took further free ones for us on our camera.

So folks - after nearly 3,000k from Paris, and 2,000k from Land's End - WE MADE IT - in one piece with very few mishaps and all healthy and happy.

We are at Beauly today (15th Sun) just a few miles from Loch Ness on our final few days, before reaching Stirling next Saturday. Getting access to email is alsways difficult, so uif we can't get access before Stirling - we've had a great run back down the east coast. It poured rain most of yesterday, we had some very steep climbs the day before, but today the sun is out and the sky is all blue, and we are doing fine.

Until then - love from us. K&J

Photos - The Highlands (1)

2007-07-12T15:53:00.001+10:00

Lairg to Bettyhill - 75k - Wed 11 July

2007-07-12T02:32:00.000+10:00

We decided to get on the road and get to Bettyhill as soon as we could. We were booked in to the Bettyhill Hotel. We were on the road by 9:10am, quite a good start for us. We bought some groceries, and headed off into the strongest of winds from the north, perhaps north west. They were bitterly cold and blowing a gale, as only you could imagine coming from the north Atlantic. It felt like it was off the polar caps!

We were headed due north today, so we looked forward to the wind all day for the 75k trip to Bettyhill. We were on the A836, which just north of Lairg turned into a single lane road and remained that way all the way. I must say this was probably our most spectacular day, and that is a big claim. Words can hardly explain the sheer beauty and majesty of the mountains, the glens (valleys), the rivers and the paddocks, farmhouses of stone and miles of stone fencing at times.

Our first goal was the Inn at Crask, reputedly the coldest place in Scotland. I said to Julie it can't be right - it has to be the coldest place on earth! It was cold, and we laboured happily into the wickedly cold wind, because the scenery was so spectacular. We initally followed the edge of Loch Shin for a while, then the Strath Tirry (river). The beautiful mountains loomed all around, especially Ben Klibreck at over 3000ft to the north east of Crask. We had to keep stopping for photos. The first 20k or so from Lairg was a gradual and continual climb in altitude. With the wind also, we were doing between 9-16kph, mostly in our lower gears. It wasn't hard, but the wind was a little wearing at times.

Crask seems to be in the far reaches of a wilderness. We passed straight through, not wanting to stop due to the cold wind. The views though were simply spectacular, so we frequently stopped to take photos as best we could. From Crask we followed along the Strath Bagastie until we came to the little and extremely attractive hamlet of Altnaharra. The previous 15k or so was done at great speed because the gradual incline had turned into a slight descent all the way to Altnaharra. We were both flying in our large chain rings, making excellent time and enjoying the cycling immensely.

Just through Altnaharra we turned east on the B873 that follows the entire length of Loch Naver (part of Strath Naver). Guess what - we had the gale behind us now - so we were both in our big chain rings and powering with the help of the wind. The views were so lovely - across the loch, up the surrounding mountains and into the fields loaded with sheep. We also had loose sheep on the road, so we had to be extremely careful. After about 12k the road turned north, and we were back into the wind, which seemed to get gradually worse the closer we got to Bettyhill.

We still followed the River Naver, all the way to Bettyhill, still 30k to the north. We were riding past special viewing points that drew attention to the terrible things that happened in the early 1800's with the clearance of familes and entire communities from the homes and fields that they worked, so that the owners could turn their land over to sheep grazing. This happened over large parts of Scotland, but Bettyhill was the focus of the scandallous actions that affected so many thousands of Scottish families.

Despite the howling cold wind, we loved the ride into Bettyhill. There were some strong inclines, but also some nice descents also. The views along the river valley were really something special. The closer we got to Bettyhill the more spectacular and rugged the landscape became.

We finally met the A836 coming from Tongue to the west (where Bonnie Prince Charles made his escape after the Battle of Culloden), with the final few miles into Bettyhill just a spectacle of sheer beauty and rugged coastline. The wind just about blew us to a standstill, but we made the final 2k 'moderate climb' up the side of the rugged coastline to the tiny but scattered buildings making up the Bettyhill community.

The beautiful old Hotel is situated right on top of the 'hill' with panoramic views over the rugged coastline of the Torrisdale Bay. Built in 1819 by the House of Sutherland, it was a coaching Inn which was popular with especially fishermen because the Strath Naver is one of Scotland's greatest salmon rivers.

This is rugged Scotland at its remote best. Everywhere we turned we saw a photo in it. We were glad to be very early today - in by 2:30pm - I think our earliest day. The Hotel is perched high, with great views over the northern rugged coast of Scotland out into either the Atlantic or the North Sea, or both. Maybe they join about here.

We too are perched to tomorrow get ourselves to John O'Groats - the furthest most point from Land's End on the southern tip of Cornwall. It is not over for us, but the 'End to End' for us has been a significant part of our Paris-Stirling adventure. It will be a great moment for us to touch the post at John O'Groats tomorrow. Heading east, we are hoping the n/west gale keeps up overnight to push us (for a change) all the way tomorrow.

We send our love to everyone. We are both fine, happy and conscious now our great adventure is reaching iyts final stages. Thanks for your thoughts and prayers. K&J

Evanton to Lairg - 54k - Tues 10 July

2007-07-12T01:55:00.000+10:00

It was great to have the time to linger a while at the local Covenant Church cafe. Evanton is a very tiny village - with a shop, a Post Office, the Covenant Church cafe and thats about it. It has a number of houses, most of which seem very old but very quaint. On the hills and mountains up behind are thge deep and dark forests which was part of the movie set for Harry Potter.

We were quite cold in the tent overnight. The camping ground is quite a picture - beautiful lush green grass, and set alongside the River Glass. It wasn't until about 11:30am that after two cappacinos, scones and a good chat, we set off north on the road to Lairg.

This is very remote country now, and we are pushing now into the very north of Scotland. The wind was blowing a gale from the west nwest. We initially headed north east for a few miles, so had the benefit of the strong wind. We were on the B817, but just before Alness, we hit the B9176 that headed due north for Ardgay and Bonar Bridge.

The road gradually climbed, enough for us to be in lower gears, and we struggled slightly now against the wind. Just before the tiny hamlet of Achandunie, the road took a deep 12% dive, down a long way and over a magnificent stone arch bridge crossing the River Alness. As these things go, for every down there is a corresponding up, so from the bridge the road climbed at 12% for a mile or so. The amazing thing is that my younger apprentice took this 12% climb in her stride, and was just on my heels all the way up. I was in my lowest granny and working hard, but she told me at the top that she was still in her middle chain drive, much to my shame. Julie has developed great strength for cycling now. She can stay with me on most roads, and is even doing the climbs now without needing to get off.

This was a most spectacular ride. It is clearly snow country, and we could see the tops of Beinn Tharsuinn at 2200ft and Cnoc an T-Sabhail at 1800ft on both sides as we continued to climb ever so gently into the valleys between. We were headed for the inner reaches of the Dornoch Firth, and the ciewing point that was a favourite of the Queen Mother's.

The countryside was clearly spectacular, but so was the fabulous views to the east down on to the Dornoch Firth and out to the North Sea from our high vantage point. We had the best of mountains and the sea. We eventually came over what eventuated to be Struie Hill, and the viewing point. It was a breathtaking view, as the land fell away and we had sweeping views all the way up the Firth as far as the Bonar Bridge at the far western point of the Firth. We still had 10k to ride to get there.

The wind was blowing a gale from that direction, and such was its strength that as we headed down the long steep decline towards Ardgay, the wind actually slowed the speed of our bikes that we let coast downhill. There was a magnificent gorge with rushing water, over which we had to pass on a massive stone bridge and viaduct. We spent time here admiring the views. The landscape was just spectacular. It was a lovely but windy run all the way to Bonar Bridge, where we had lunch beside the Kyle of Sutherland (River) at the bridge linking Ardgay and Bonar Bridge.

After lunch, we hit the wind again. Still on the A836, we continued north and followed the Kyle of Sutherland as far as Invershin, where we admired the view of Carbisdale Castle, with the Rail viaduct crossing the road above us. Still 20k from LAirg, we had a choice of the 'highway' or the 'biway' - the biway being less steep seemed great to us. It was basically the old road that followed the River Shin, past Shin Falls where we stopped and admired the nice things in the Information centre. The road was a single lane only and well protected both sides with trees. I fell off the bike while looking back and up over my shoulder at the great stone walls of the 'highway' way above us. I went 'splat' in the bank on the side of the road, hurting nothing but my pride. Julie asked if I saw any balloons (a private Bike Barn joke). The answer was no!

Lairg is a remote little village on the very southern tip of Loch Shin. It is a very well kept secret. It is so pretty in the approach from the south with its cute buildings overlooking the waters of Loch Shin. We headed for the 'Dunroamin' Caravan Park. We were blown to bits by the wind, and looked forward to getting warm in the tent. The ride today though was so spectacular, we didn't seem to mind the continual wrestle against the very strong winds. It didn't rain, but was clouded most of the day.

We had a great dinner of pork sausages with a variety of vegetables, and dessert. We don't lack in the food department. Our little Trangia cooker can cook almost anything, except a roast! The one single shower for the entire camping ground was a bit of a struggle. I joined a queue, and then when it was my turn, I wondered why the shower wouldn't work. No one told me I needed to put 20p in a little unlabelled white box on the wall. I eventually worked it out!

This is remate Scotland. It is as cold as 'charity', and we wondered what it would be like in winter! But it is beautiful, and we are so glad we are here. We huddled all night togehter in our sleeping bags, listening to the howl of the wind all night. Its been another spectacular day, for which we daily give thanks to the Lord. Tomorrow - Bettyhill at the very top of Scotlands rugged north coast.

Croy to Evanton - 47k - Mon 9 July

2007-07-10T18:49:00.000+10:00

We took our time leaving Craig and Shona's. Sadly Craig had a camp in (its Teen Ranch) and he was occupied full time with the camp. We had a lovely morning tea with Shona who set a table outside in the garden, with the Aussie flag as the table cloth! It was quite a touch for our little farewell from Kilravock Castle.

It was actually a beautiful day - the sky was blue and the sun was shining. We left with our coats on because it was a bit 'nippy' but that lasted a few k and off they came for the entire ride. We left with dense forest on both sides as we cycled down the long country road from Clephanton (where the Castle is) towards Inverness, past Croy. We stopped at the incredible sight of what turned out to be the Culloden Viaduct - a massive Roman looking construction that was the long and high train bridge across the River Nairn valley. It stood hundreds of feet high, with very long arched stone legs reaching all the way down into the valey - a sight to behold.

Then we came to the famous Battlefield of Culloden, where in 1746 the Jacobite forces loyal to Bonnie Prince Charles of Scotland (who was making claims to the Kingship of both Scotland and England, after his grandfather James - a Catholic King - was was exiled by William of Orange (a Protestant and married to James daughter!), and sought exile in France. Bonnie Prince Charles was referred to as the 'young Pretender', his father - born to James just before William intervened - was always the 'old Pretender - meaning he had aspirations to the throne. 'Jacobite' comes from 'jacubus' - or James - they were loyalists to the Catholioc James (now dead) and massed on the Moor of Culloden against the far superior and vastly biiger numbers of the English (Government forces headed by the nasty Duke of Cumberland.

The result is history. The Jacobites were entirely Scots, and mostly Highlanders and almost entirely Catholic - so this was more a battle with religious overtones than a territorial one. England had Scots fighting for them - from the lowlands but who were Protestant sympathisers. Thats at least my understanding of it. It was a slaughter - the 'Scots' were beaten severely, and the cruelty of the Duke's forces extended beyond the battle to the Highland villages around. It was the final battle on English soil.

The Battle field is a wide open moor - I suppose the sad moment was when Julie found the burial site for the Stewart Clan who fought with Bonnie Prince Charlie - they came and fought as an entire clan, and were probably decimated. There is a single headstone where all the Stewarts both fell, died and are buried on the battlefield. It was a sensitive moment to say the least, but a precious and valuable one nevertheless.

We left on our bikes with the views down across the Moray Firth just opening up and stunning. We could see all of Inverness, the bridge spanning the Firth, with Moray Firth on the east and Beauly Firth to the west. We would be riding the bridge. The sunshine makes such a difference to Scotland. We saw it today in all its colour and beauty. The beauty stretched to the Highlands (we are officially in the Highlands, but still on the coast). We could see the massive peaks of Ben Wyvis (3200ft) and Little Wyvis (2200ft) giving the beautiful backdrop to the vuillage of Evanton, our destination on the northern coast of the Cromarty Firth.

We stopped for groceries in Inverness then attacked the bridge. The sights from the bridge both east and west were stunning. We came off on the Black Isle - a tongue of land that separates the Firth of Moray and Cromarty - it is some 20k wide, and rises for several miles keeping us in low gears but not troubled, then it peaks and opens up the most dramatic scenery of the northern Highlands of Scotland, the villages along the northern side of the Firth, another long bridge to cross, and the road north into some 'tall timber'.

We met two cyclists on the bridge - a father and son doing the 'End to End'. They were amazed at the load on our bikes - they were doing B&B - but they didn't ride any faster than us. As they turned north and with us just behind, a massive truck smashed into the rear of a car that was just passing the son. It was an incredibly near miss, and a very unhappy car driver.

We came into a most beautiful caravan park set beside the River Glass at the tiny village of Evanton. The large and dark forests up the huge hills behind Evanton were the scenes for the movies of Harry Potter - so when you see the sinister forests etc - it was just up behind our camping spot.

It was a great sunny day. We were hot when we arrived, and the tent got hot as we set it up - all a new sensation for us after 5 weeks of camping! However, overnight it rained again, and we had breakfast in the tent with the rain falling outside. I am in the village now, all packed for the big trip to Lairg today, at the local Church Cafe/worship centre. This is a Godly place and we are taking time to enjoy.

We heard the news from home this morning that our wonderful friend of almost our entire life time has passed away a few hours ago. David MacDonald has been a close friend since teenage years, he and I were competative athletes on the Canberra scene all those years ago. He was an extremely gifted soccer player, a gutsy long distance athlete, and a close friend who was a groomsman at our wedding. We lost touch for a lot of years, but since we moved to Sydney, we have renewed our friendship. David learned that he had serious cancer just months ago, and asked if I would conduct his funeral. Well, I am so sorry David. He wanted to hang out until I got home - he was brave and courageous, accepting his condition, and apparently said from his hospital bed this week that he wasn't going yet, until Kelvin gets home. He leaves a lovely partner in Sue, and two of the best of young adult children in Karena and Ben. Our thoughts are with his family. He was 'poppy' to his granchildren - all of whom loved him dearly and will greatly miss him. Before I left I shared with David the verse from Scripture - 'The Lord is MY Shepherd', who knows him by name and into whose hands we entrust him completely.

Until next time - Kelvin and Julie

Northern UK - Scotland

2007-07-09T19:17:00.001+10:00

Photos - Heading North

2007-07-09T19:13:00.001+10:00

Photos - Southern England

2007-07-09T18:59:00.000+10:00

Photos - France

2007-07-09T16:58:00.000+10:00

Elgin to Croy - 50k - Sun 8 July

2007-07-09T08:45:00.000+10:00

It was great to sleep in a little in our magnificent room with its views toward the Cathedral ruins of Elgin. We planned for a later than usual breakfast, and because Croy was only 50k away, we planned to leave late and also take time to enjoy the history trail of Elgin.

The sky was overcast, but the rains had stopped overnight sometime. However, our foe the wind from the west was blowing even more furiously, as if it knew it had limited time and it was giving its best before it blew out of 'puff'.

Elgin Cathedral was originally built around the 11th century, and like most of them has had additions and repairs over the years. In 1390, Alexander Stewart, the 'Wolf of Badenoch' plundered and burned both the town of Forres and Elgin, and ransacked the Cathedral, which required substantial rebuilding. In 1567 the roof was stripped of its lead to raise money, and in the 1600's the roof fell in. It eventually became a quarry and rubbish dump until 1824 John Shanks became its keeper, and he removed some 3,000 barrowfuls of rubbish. The ruins are today a most beautiful and magnificent sight, surrounded by its ancient graveyard, adjacent to the Bishops Palace, Biblical Gardens, Panns Port entry to the town and 16th century stone bridge that led to the ancient brewery.

We took time to enjoy all of this, and on the way out of town we stopped at Ladyhill, the site of the original Elgin Castle and now site of a tall monument to Gearge, the 5th Duke of Gordon from the 17th centry. From the site of the castle, the entire town can be seen. It was our last view of Elgin before we faced the horrid winds and set our faces toward Kilravock (pronounced Kil'rock) Castle at Croy, near the Culloden Battle field.

It was just another windy day, the winds feeling so much stronger today. However the blessing was - no rain. Today was the first day in a very long time when it was neither wet nor raining all day! We even rode toward patches of blue sky, and eventually had to take our coats off because it was too warm.

We stopped in at the lovely old town of Forres, which has a history much like Elgin. We stopped in a park for a light lunch. My front tyre was spongy yet again, so it required changing. We made coffee on milk with our magnificent Trangia cooking set, before facing the winds again for the final onslaught to Croy. From Forres we stayed on the A96 until the village of Auldern, and turned off on the A9101 that ran slightly west southwest towards Croy. At Auldearn is the famous Doocot battle site. I was keen to see this, but Julie is not so keen on battle sites. So I sent Julie ahead so I could spend a few moments checking out the site, but after she had ridden off into the distance, and I rode toward the battle site, I noticed to my horror that yet again my front tyre was virtually flat, and she had the pump and repair kit! So I had to chase her on a flat front tyre, which in her excellent cycling condition now was no easy feat!

I eventually caught her, and chose to keep pumping the tyre every few miles rather than change it out on the road in the windy conditions. Croy was just a few miles now, and we were keen to get there. We cruised through Cawden, ignoring its mint condition ancient castle for the sake of seing friends we hadn't seen for several years. At the little village of Clephanton we saw the first sign pointing to 'Kilravock Castle' and quite excitedly forgot the wind and headed the final mile before turning in to the long driveway running up to this 13th century castle, still owned by the Duchess of Kilracock.

Craig and Shona Snitch are Aussies who have committed their lives to Christian ministry with Teen Ranch in Scotland. They were part of our ministry team at The Salvation Army in Chatswood Sydney in the late 90's. They have four young children. Teen Ranch Scotland has taken out a lease on the Castle and vast grounds for the conduct of camps and other Christian ministries, focussing on young people. The Castle operates as a B&B and provides vital income for the ministry.

The Baroness is still alive, and resides nearby in an Aged Care Residence. The Castle is still furnished as she had it, with incredible furnishings and family belongings from down through the centuries of her ancestors. Mary Queen of Scots stayed at Kibracock Castle, and Bonnie Prince Charles visted and was hosted here on the night before the great and final Battle of Culloden. Robert Burns stayed here, and started a romantic liaison with Elizabeth Rose in 1787 (Rose is the family of ancestry) and is said to have composed the poem 'Highland Mary' under an oak tree in the very vast and beautiful gardens. The Rose family have lived continuously in the castle from the 14th century.

It was wonderful to meet up again with Craig and Shona, and renew our friendship. Shone gave us an extended tour of the castle, its rooms, staircases and the vast gardens. It was awe inspiring to stand in the vaulted attic where Mary Queen of Scots resided, and to walks it halls and huge rooms with walls covered in the portraits and drawings of family and ancestors of many centuries.

We came home in the daylight, but it was deceivingly after 10pm at night! News was that Robbie McEwin (Aussie) won the first full stage of the Tour de France, followed by the next great news that the sky over Scotland tomorrow will be entirley clear of rain or even cloud!

We head up toward the very north of Scotland over these next few days, and plan to stand for the photo at John O'groats on Thursday, having officially completed the 'Lands End to John O'Groats' cycle journey as part of our 'Paris to Stirling' marathon.

It may well be that we will be out of 'net'contact during this period, so we may not be able to post again until we get even possibly to Stirling.

Thank you for your continual thoughts and prayers. Julie and I are fine, and doing well in every way. We send our love to you all. K&J

Inverurie to Elgin - 85k - Sat 7 July

2007-07-09T08:02:00.000+10:00

We woke to the news that Scotland would be covered with rain for several days, and enjoy strong winds from the west. It was joyous news because we were cycling west for the next two days, and we would delight in facing strong westerly winds! I am kidding of course.

Afetr a beautiful breakfast, we sadly said our goodbye's to Joe and Desna, and made our way out of the extensive and beautiful grounds of the castle, back into Inverurie, where we had decided to take the A96 all the way to Elgin that night. We chose this because we wanted to get ourselves as close to Croy as possible, where we were aiming to be the following day with Craig and Shona Snitch.

So we headed straight up the highway - into the terrible wind from the west, nor'west. We faced it all day long. At least the rain held off, but the winds were very strong. Cyclists know that they would probably prefer hills than winds. We were forced to stay in low gears for most of the day, and just grind it out. It is quite frustrating really, and I suppose were quite frustrated by this today. We were feeling a bit 'sorry for ourselves'. This was into the fourth week where we have had rain virtually everyday, and if not rain then wind to contend with.

Despite this, we tried to enjoy the surrounding scenery as it passed slowly by. At times were gritted out teeth as we persevered with very long gradual climbs into the wind, only then to have to ride hard down the long descents but pushed back into the face by the winds as well. I suspect also that physically we were still weary from the very strong effort of the previous day, becasue we didn't even make 20k before we had to say 'blow this'and have a sit at the side of the road for a mental break from the wind.

On the long approach to Huntly we passed over some long and serious climbs. My map indicated that we were passing by the peaks of Mither Top at nearly 1700ft, and also Ben Rachie at about 1600ft, both higher in altitude than Cairn O'Mearns. The highway had to climb over the long ridges that ran off these heights, making it jolly hard, slow work into the battering wind. Then there was the Hill of Foudland at 1700ft and also Wichach at 1600ft. It was great relief to finally get over these, and have the impression that we were gradually descending again - our speeds picked up to 12-18kph. The fianl 10k into Huntly were the fastest of the trip.

We pressed on to Huntly, the first of three main towns along the road. We passed by Huntly, boasting its castle because we basically couldn't be bothered - we just wanted to 'get there'to where we were going. We had decided on the town of Keith at the 55k mark for a lunch break, but it took to about 2pm to get there, at times down to 6-8kph even on the flat ground. Again Julie impressed me because every time I looked around to check on her, she was tucked in tightly behind me. I was pushing as hard as I could under the conditions, and I couldn't shake her even if I really wanted to. She really has developed into a good, tough cyclist.

Just before Keith we crossed into the shire of Moray, famous for its Malt Whiskey. We stopped long enough to take the photo beside the signpost, and get going again. Keith is a lovely town with a history all of its own, nestled for centuries beside the River Isla. We rode into the town, walked the main street desperate to find a spot out of the wind to eat our banana and apple sandwiches, and 'boil the billy'. Well, we didn't find one. The wind was everywhere. We walked out the other end of the main street back on the main road out of town, and came across another one of those lovely memorial gardens, in remembrance of those who gave their lioves in the two Great Wars. We huddled on a seat beside the memorial. We had just finished lunch when the first of the rain started, which didn't cease for the remainder of the day.

We quickly packed up, got on the bikes and rolled out of town, down over the bridge that crosses the River Isla, and out of town in the direction of Elgin, some 28k away with the town of Fochabers in between. A mile or so out of town the heavens opened, and it took no time for us to be drenched, our shoes filled with water, our helmets dripping with water and water spraying off the road as we did our best into the horrible wind. If anything was our ''Cyclis Horribillis", this was it. We were wet, cold and if I can say, bordering on the miserable as we fixed on our determination to get to Elgin as quick as we could. I had resolved of course that there would be no camping tonight, which was the original plan.

We came through Fochabar, passing firstly the large caravan park on the edge of town. As tempting as it was to get out of this misery the quick way by pulling in, I checked with Julie that she was okay for another hour on the road, and we agreed to just 'do it'. So we stuck to the task. I don't have to describe what it feels like to have frozen feet and toes. Everyone has from time to time. Battling the wind was worse than the rain, but the frozen feet was difficult to bear given that they have to keep propelling the bike.

It was about 5pm when we rolled into Elgin with its beautiful old Cathedral remains, one of Scotland's if not Englands finest in its day, ransacked by one of the Stewarts and used as a gargage tip for many years. It still maintains the Biblical Gardens that surround the Cathedral, but as we came into town, all we were concerned about was a room and a hot shower, and fast. The TIC was full of good news - they said accommodation of the low price type was gone because of the Highland Games being held in the next village.

However, we saw a Guest House on the way into town. We rang - they had a room - and it turns out to be probably the best room we have had on our journey that we have paid for, and one of the cheapest. It was delightful. It was warm. The shower was untimed! This was our prayer coming into town, and we marvel at the way that the Lord continues to provide for us at the right time and in the right ways. He even gives us strength for the wind!

We had a great stay at Elgin, and were not hurried to leave the next morning, which is a great feeling when you finally get to go to bed. It was the first day of the Tour de France, which was staged in Kent in bright sunlight and blue sky. We were a little envious. We passed 2500k for the trip so far, and looking at John O'Groats in just a matter of days.

Brechin to Inverurie - 81k - Fri 6 July

2007-07-09T02:49:00.000+10:00

We woke to the sound of car tyres on very wet roads outside. We would be starting today with a very wet track! I had to be up early to solve the puzzle of my front tyre. I sat in the sunroom of this 19th century double storied home, with the cat and the visiting 2yr old grandson for company. The 2 yr old chatted incessantly - he was my new little mate.

I changed the tyre, and when the new one was pumped I could hear the air escaping as I put my tools away!! So it was off again, and this time I inspected every inch of the inside of the tyre, to find a loose piece of a tiny slither of glass! So it was a second change and three tubes to repair (one from a previous day). It was breakfast time, and all B&B's provide massive breakfasts.

We left at 9:30am into the rain, which is the worst of feelings. We had some things to buy, and I needed the local bike shop for some new tubes and repair kit. Julie took one of my front panniers off to load in the few things we bought, and as she turned away, the bike fell over and banged on to a parked car, which made the occupants most unhappy. It was a brand new car, and the elderly fellow got our and gave it the inspection for damage, with constant instructions from his elderly wife. However, there were no perceivable scratches - thank the dear Lord!

At 10:15am we headed north to the little village of Trinity (pronounced 'Tarinty'), but headed initially to the more famous village of Edzell, where the great Edzell castle can be found (if you had a car!). We rode through the large stone entry arch which seemed to be part of the original village wall, discovering a really lovely stone Scottish village. The rain was consistent, and discouraged getting off bikes, so we sailed straight through. We enjoyed looking at the vast fields pass by, and occasional small stone arched bridges crossing flooded creeks and rivers. The countryside opened out to vast paddocks of potatoe crops, with great mountains now beginning to loom over us from the distant north. I kept assuring Julie we were definitely well to the east of the Grampians and shouldn't be bothered by big hills today.

We reached Fettercairn, a village not unlike Edzell. We entered through another stone arch and across a railway line, and stopped in the village square. The village was a spectacle of flags and bunting-like banners, hanging all over the place. However, on closer inspection, we realised it was neither flags nor bunting - the whole village was linked together by streamers made up of women's bras!! There must have been hundreds of meters of every conceivable bra of every woman in the village and countryside. There was no one about, so we left town with photos to prove it, but none the wiser about this strange Scottish village tradition!

A few miles further on was where we were rudely introduced to the Scottish highlands! There was a dip in the road, then the road seemed to go vertical, with a little sign that simply said '16%'." This was the beginning of the climb to 'Çairn O'Mount'. The climb started so sharply that it caught Julie in too high a gear, and after only 5 meters or so her bike came to a standstill and she elegantly flopped sideways, choosing to go down into the heather with her bike in a combined heap! I was just in front to start, and had the chance to engage my granny gear for the climb, calling back "are you okay"? I heard "Yes" followed by a faint "Ï think so". I had my own dramas to deal with, and left her to climb back on the road and start pushing her bike (it was too steep to start again). This was the beginning of the massive climb to the Cairn O'Mount. I measured between 4-5k which took us more than an hour of very hard work. It wasn't without lovely views though, despite the rain and now the closing mist the higher we got. We couldn't see the top from the bottom, but as we crested each section, it just revealed more of the same.

We stopped several times to enjoy the views of the mountains around us, the deep gulleys with strong flowing streams far below, and the panoramic views back towards the coastal regions. This was Scotland at its richest and best, but just a mere taste of the Highlands yet to come. It was very hard work, and after we thought we had struggled with the worst of it, the final pinch to the summit gteeted us with yet another sign that said '14%' for the final climb to the summit. I was not about to let it beat me, but this really tested the bike - I wondered whether the chain or the handlebard were going to stand the test.

The view from the viewing platform was spectacular, despite the rain, the cold and the close mist. Julie couldn't be bothered stopping at the viewing platform, such were the conditions, and kept going the final bit to the summit. It was frightfully cold and we were both quite wet. The sign told us we had climbed to nearly 1600ft in altitude, and it was all up from where Julie had taken a dive into the heather.

Obviously what goes up then goes down, so over the other side we were in cloud, but the road descended rapidly over the next several miles. We held the brakes because the road was wet and slippery, but the going was much easier. The next many miles were up and down, but with lovely angles and views of pine forests with moss that has gathered unhindered for decades. The views through the pines over into the Grampians were just a picture. This was great and beautiful country, but we were just a wet and frozen pair of Aussies on bikes preferring now to be in out of the wet and the cold.

We got into the town of Banchory just saturated and cold. Our feet were frozen, our shoes soaked with water, and we stopped at the Pennyfarthing Cafe for coffee. We asked permission first if we could come in - we were dripping with water, but cheery. From Banchory it was a lovely final run to Inverurie of some 30k. The rain started to ease, and the road became more 'hill and dale' once again, allowing us to stretch the bikes out a bit. Julie is turning into an excellent road cyclist. She doesn't like the hills, but on the flats and undulating roads she sticks behind me irrespective of what speed we are doing. She uses the big ring frequently now, and is capable of excellent speed, despite the load that she too carries.

The road dried out as the rain eased in the approach to Kintore, where we joined the A96 from Aberdeen for the final 10k to Inverurie. As we turned off at Inverurie to follow the signs to Keith Hall, the roads were dry and the rain now clear. Keith Hall is the estate of the Earl of Kintore, with its 14th century Castle, which is now divided into 6 private homes and 8 Home Units. We were expected by Desna and Joe Cross who live in one of the wings of the castle. Joe was in the vast gardens waiting for us after we had made the 4-5min ride up the driveway through a forest and over the vast lawns.

We were treated with the most wonderful hospitality by Joe and Desna. We were taken for an hour's drive in Joe's Rover through the beautiful countryside, a long walk around the lake and gardens of the castle, and then shared a lovely dinner. It was an incredible end to a most challenging but exhilerating day. Joe and Desna are parents of Martin Cross whom I have made friends with through the Pollie Pedal in Sydney. It was not difficult to get off to sleep in our second story bedroom in the north wing of the castle of the Earl of Kintore.

The section between Fettercairn

St Andrews to Brechin - 76k - Thurs 5 July

2007-07-09T01:26:00.000+10:00

We emerged from our tent to an overcast and dreary looking sky, but at least it wasn't raining. It hadn't rained at all through the night. Today was a special day - 32 years ago I married a teenager. Her name was Julie Stewart. We were married at The Salvation Army Citadel (Church) at Braddon in Canberra on 5 July 1975. We would be celebrating our wedding anniversary over dinner at the little village of Brechin (pronounced bree-kin) tonight, God willing.

Julie surprised me over breakfast with a gift of a lovely cycling shirt with the cross of St Andrew very cleverly presented in several places amidst the lovely blue and white colours of the shirt. It seemed almost too nice to wear. Sadly it was a 'wee' bit too small, even on my reduced body mass, so it meant calling again at the St Andrews bike shop before we left town.

We rolled out of the Cairnhill Caravan Park at about 10am. It is situated on the brow of a hill in a field overlooking the entire town of St Andrews, affording a magnificent sight as we slowly held the bikes back descending into the town. We loved St Andrews, and at times like this are filled with mixed emotions about leaving after such a brief stay. History says that two saints were washed up on the beach after a violent storm - one was alive - the other was just the remains of a saint who had died several centuries earlier. The alive saint - St Rule was his name, or 'St Regulus' had carried with him from Greece the remains of St Andrew. The town takes its name from the earlier Saint. When the Picts fought the Northumberlanders and defeated them some centuries later, they flew the blue flag with the distinctive white cross, the same one so cleverly imprinted several times in my new cycling shirt.

On the way north out of town, we cycled past the Old Course of St Andrews Golf, and then followed the bike path that runs the entire length of the New Course until well clear on the northern end. Part of the National Cycle Route (NCN 1), the bikepath was a great way to head north - it went all the way to the village of Guardbridge, then went wandering off back to the coast to the east. We didn't want any unneccesary miles today, so we jumped back on the B945 that took us through lovely farming countryside to the seaside village of Tayport on the Firth of Tay, with panoramic views of Dundee in the distance, and especially Broughty Castle across the bay.

We followed the coast for several miles before the great Tay Bridge came into view that crossed the mighty Firth. Not having quite the same outstanding quality as the Humber or the Forth bridges, it was nevertheless a magnificent sight, and was 2.5k from bank to bank. This brought us into the port of Dundee, and after an elevator ride to get down from the bridge, we followed the NCN 1 signs that took us north along the ports and docks of Dundee to the Broughty Ferry some miles north where we had lunch sheltered from the wind overlooking the magnificent and fully restored Broughty Castle.

The rain looked terribly threatening, so we lost no time in hitting the road inland and north. From Monifieth we linked with the B962 to Newbigging, where a volvo driver hailed us to stop. He pulled in front down the road, and stood behind his car with his hands raised. I really did think we were in trouble. But he was an Aussie, a very home sick Aussie, and he was a very sad fellow, very sorry to have sold his WA farm to live in Scotland. He was doing it hard, and we felt really very sorry for him. He was just glad to speak to us, but his sadness was etched deeply into his personality. We didn't rush away, but eventually had to move on. The roads began to climb into the hillsides.

We stayed on the road as it gradually worked its way higher and further inland. The farming country was just beautiful, but the sky was threatening, and were expecting a bucketing any time. We eventually stopped for a breather at Carmyllie, and just enjoyed the panorama of the farmland with cattle, sheep and pastures. My front tyre was spongy, but I decided to pump it rather than change it. A spongy tyre always means one thing! I was hoping to get the next 20k to Brechin without having to do a roadside change in the wet. The roads showed all the evidence of rain, but it beat us and stopped before we got there. The roads were awash on the approach to Brechin.

Despite the rain, the road to Brechin from Friockheim leveled somewhat and became more 'hills and dales'. We were able to pick up the speed a little, and even cruise for long periods in the big chain ring, giving great speed and momentum over the rolling hills. It was great fun despite the wet road, the little rivers and pools washing over the roads making it necessary to show great care. I could only get 6-8k before having to stop to pump more air, until the final long descent down onto the bridge that crosses the River Esk at the bottom of this most magnicicent village of Brechin, with its own occupied castle, and Cathedral. The tyre was dead flat now, and it was a humble final mile as we walked up into the village square from the river, hoping that our B&B was close to the bridge. It wasn't, and happened to be right at the top of the village - a very welcome sight in the wet conditions nevertheless. The folk welcomed us with great warmth, and were not at all worried about our state. Bikes and all went through the front door!

We dined that night to celebrate our 32nd wedding anniversary - at the Northern Hotel. We had 'Haggis en Croute'' for entree, followed by pork (Julie) and chicken (K) slithers in fantastic sauces, with separate bowls of untold vegetables - and chips! For dessert - banoffe pie! I gave Julie a special necklace with the Scottish thistle etched into it, which is very hard to describe. It was a lovely evening. The nice thing about B&B's is the TV - but our TV that night was all gloom about the heavy rain expected all over Scotland for the next several days.

It started to rain as we went to bed, and it rained all night long. But it was a great day, for which we are grateful on a daily basis to the Lord for His untold mercies to us.

St Andrews - Wed 4 July - Rest Day

2007-07-05T01:36:00.000+10:00

We had about 10 hours in the sleeping bag last night. It didn't rain all night, and this morning it showed everyliklihood of actually being a sunny day.

After showers and breakfast, we saddled up the bikes for the short ride down the hill into St Andrews. We took it very steadily because, strange as it may sound, it is very hard to get used to handling the light bikes again after carrying such heavy loads.

It was a day of exloration and discovery. We always start at the TIC, but after that we headed for the beautiful remains of St Andrews Cathedral at the end of town looking over the sea. This is truly a magnificent place, and took ages to take it all in. St Rule the Greek Monk allegedly brought relics of St Andrew to this spot, and later Celtic Monks decided to build the Church of St Mary on the Rock. The great cathedral was constucted in 12th and 13th centuries, the largest building in Scotland and centre of the country's religious life. Although just remains now, it is still massive, with the tower of St Rule still tall and prominant in the middle of quite significant remaining structures, surrounded by hundreds and hundreds of historic graves.

From there we went to the Castle, also great remains showing something of what it used to be, and after a great lunch at a fantastic little cafe in Murray Close, we went and walked over the Old Golf Course, with views of the new. This was quite a lovely time. It opens up all the beach area - the long wide open stretch of beach we were looking at could have been lifted out of Australia, but it was the beach that was the location for the running scenes in Chariots of Fire. With our legs the way they were, it was really easy to pass up the opportunity to go running up the beach while humming the theme sone of the movie!

Whad to buy a new rear tyre for Julie's bike - hers has too many nicks and cuts, which is probably why her 'flat' count is 6 to my 1. By mid afternoon it started to rain. The day has otherwise been sunny and warm. So we headed for the library for 'net' time.

As my computer is saying 3mins left, it is time to wrap this up.

Tomorrow we hit the road again for the little village of Brechin, just inland from Montrose. It is a place we have chosen to celebrate our 32nd wedding anniversary. No tent tomorrow night!!

We are very grateful for your continuing thoughts, prayers and occasional messages. With every blessing to you all. We will be seeing you all very soon. Love K&J

Edinburgh to St Andrews - Tues 3 July - 82k

2007-07-05T01:10:00.000+10:00

It was certainly with a great deal of sadness that we said goodbye to Dennis and Norma Innes, as we turned our minds and our bikes north toward St Andrews. We headed north down past the little Brethren Church where we worshipped on Sunday, and further through the northern suburbs until we hit the Ferry Road which became the A90 leading north over the Forth Bridge. It was typical city cycling - red lights, traffic especially buses in 'our' lane, and quick thinking as we checked signposts while we were moving through busy intersections.

The road eventually opened out on the A90 as we left the outer limits of Edinburgh, with the fading outline of Edinburgh Castle still looking over our shoulders. After 15 miles or so of good riding on the A90, we were faced with the sign ''no more cyclists''. We had to get off the A90, obviously because the highway had become Motorway in preparation for the crossing of the Firth of Forth. We ambled off, found another sign pointing to Queensferry, and by a series of minor roads and even NCN bike tracks, we found ourselves underneath the most magnificent rail bridge - the Forth Bridge that crosses the Firth of Forth. Built in 1883, it was apparently the first ever steel bridge in the world, the biggest bridge in Scotland and the biggest building in Scotland for its time. We just stopped and stared at this incredible structure that spanned more than 2.5km across the Firth of Forth. We were in the village of South Queensferry, something out of a picture book of old Scotland. People were gathering - it was 11am - for a remembrance service for all those who died during construction of the bridge over 120 years ago.

We cycled right through the village, bumping and jarring over the length of cobblestones, and found our way up on top to the vehicle bridge that runs parallel to the rail bridge, about 1k further up. I measured 2.4k from 'bank to bank' while crossing this magnificent but newer bridge. We had to keep pausing to admire the view - words just cannot capture the majesty of the sight of the bridge and the waters of the Forth.

We found our way off and down back to village level on the north side, and headed for St Andews, now about 55k away. The road was quite pleasant, with none of the steep climbing that we expected. We eventually got into the old village of Kirkcaldy, with its 13th century castle ruins, the home of Adam Smith the father of economics, and also the place where linoleum was first 'invented'. We sat having lunch on the beach foreshore, with views across the North Sea, especially back across the 15miles or so to Edinburgh on the southern shores of the Firth of Forth, and the Soutra Summit in the background that we had come over several days earlier.

Today we were enjoying a 'dry track'. It was a pleasure to ride on roads that were not wet and covered in puddles. But we could see the darl clouds gathering over from the direction of St Andrews. We headed off for the final 40k, expecting some mega climbs over the higher terrain. It eventually came, but the long climbs are not so unpleasant. The road (A955) was light with traffic, and afforded great views over sheep and pasture land for miles all around, and across the sea at times. At Leven (birthplace of 'Robinson Crusoe') we turned inland and 'upwards' on the A915 in order to cut short the longer coastal route. We seemed to choose the hilly way - we must have ascended for 5-6k without a break, while we could see the coastal route around the little coastal villages as flat as a table. Julie was doing well on all hills today - none of them stopped her, and on many she was never far from my back wheel!

It started to rain. Not enough to convince us, so we cycled on. But eventually, it was evident it was here to stay. We were dodging puddles. Little rivers ran across the road, and the whole track was clearly wet to stay. We put the coats back on, and kept going, keen to see St Andrews. The final few miles flattened out, although we hadn't really descended after our long climb. Eventually, the beautiful skyline of the ancient and historical village of St Andrews could be seen in the distance. The rain was much heavier now. We were very wet, and our unvovered backpacks and Julie's panniers were quite wet (mine are water proof - thanks Pete for the lend!!).

We were now descending - long open runs allowing us to sit in the big chain ring at the front and let the bikes really fly - water and all. In the bi ring we can manage to get a good run over the top of smaller climbs without having to work too hard. We past the final crest, and came immediately upon our caravan park, which sits over the town. It is no fun setting up the tent in the rain, but there being no choice, we just grin and bear it.

Of course, not all that long after the tent is set up, we have tea and shower, the sun comes out! We walked toward town to have a look over the whole lovely scene with the North Sea in the background, and decided to have an early night, keen to explore St Andrews on our day off tomorrow.

Thanks again for the thoughts and messages. They really encourage us. We will be in touch again. Love from us - K&J

Edinburgh - Rest Day - Mon 2 July

2007-07-03T07:38:00.000+10:00

We've had a very leisurely day today. The day started in sunshine, but was short lived. By 10:30am it was raining, and that was the theme we were stuck with for most of the day, fluctuating between periods of heavy rain, showers, a bit of sun followed by heavy rain.

We walked to the Royal Mile - the original main street of the old Edinburgh that runs between Edinburgh Castle on the top end of the old original town, straight down one mile to Hollyrood Castle at the bottom end, where Queen Liz has been staying and where the new Scottish Parliament has also been constructed.

We went to the Castle, and found that the entire forecourt had been taken over with seating bleaches for the upcoming Edinburgh Military Tattoo. That was fine, although it totally blocked any views of the city below from any angle. However, when we arrived, the Castle Guards in full gear with automatic weapns and bayonets were parading in rehearsal for the big night. To help them, a full military band were also doing their marching practice, so we had a front row 'pew' (we stood) watching this magnificent display. The playing of the band (almost entirely brass) was excellent and a highlight for me personally. I thought it was curious that the Captain barking the orders in charge of Scotlands Edinburgh Castle Guard was definitely a cockney englishman. It just didn't seem to fit. Anyway......

For the rest of the day we spent up and down the 'Mile'. We did the organised tour of Mary King's Close, the now underground homes that were once the side alleys off the Mile, which was home to hundreds if not thousands of people, living in the cramped and sqallid conditions in the houses tucked away in the Closes that run at right angles down the steep sides off the Royal Mile. Some of these (including Mary King's Close) have been built completely over the top of by newer present day buildings, such as the City Chambers in the case of Mary King's. It was quite an insight into the living conditions of people of the 17th century. Many of course lost their lives in the Black plague that took nearly a third of the population of Edinburgh at the time.

We visited St Giles Cathedral, also on 'The Mile'. A visiting choir from Texas were rehearsing for a midday concert in the Cathedral, so that was a nice pleasure also. We dined at the underground Cathedral cafe, also a nice treat. Outside it was pelting with rain, so we spent time in shops just browsing. Its good being on bikes, because all the neat things that Julie would love to buy such as teapots, Tartan kilts, patchworking materials etc can't be fitted on the bike! We spent all day on the Mile, last of which was to visit the statue of the Greyfriar's Bobby, the little dog who was so devoted to his master, that he laid on his masters grave for fourteen years before he himself died, apparently found on his masters grave. Both are buried in the Greyfriars Church of Scotland church yard, which we visited. We went there just on closing time, so the staff took us in and gave us a very personal and fruitful introduction to their ministry and the history of their church.

It was a full day. We visited numerous other places of interest, including the Edinburgh Salvation Army. On the long walk home we came back through the main city gardens that are just simply amazing, and which lie at the bottom of the great Edinburgh Castle, from which angle we could hardly stop taking photos of the Castle perched way up so high. Every few steps threw a different and enchanting angle on this most magnificent of Scottish Castles, which incidentally has the oldest Church in Edinburgh within its significant walls.

We spent a final night with Norma and Dennis - such wonderful and gracious people whom we have come to love and respect very much. We leave early tomorrow for another great town - St Andrews - but on the way we have to cross one of the greatest bridges built in the 19th century - the great Forth Bridge that spans the Firth of Forth, built in 1883 with the loss of 71 lives. More about that later.

Thanks to those who leave messages. These greatly encourage us. Thanks to all for your prayers and words of support. They mean a great deal to us. We thank the Lord daily for His love, care and provision for us on what is to us a very significant pilgrimage and adventure. Love K&J

Edinburgh - Rest Day - Sun 1 July

2007-07-02T01:59:00.000+10:00

It was great to sleep in a little. Norma and Dennis are great hosts. Norma prepared a wonderful breakfast, with the best Black Pudding I have tasted. We relaxed a while, then attended Church with Norma.

We walked to the Church. I have never been to a Brethren service before, but I was immediately taken by the beautiful Christ like atmosphere and warmth of the fellowship of people who had actually near filled the Church building for this the first of two services we attended, one which immediately followed the other.

The first service was more traditional for the Brethren. Someone starts it off with a welcome from a seat within the congregation, but after that the service depends on the free and unanticipated participation of those present. On the belief and trust that the Lord prompts those to participate, someone might feel led to pray, to suggest a meaningful song with explanation, to sing or to even just sit quietly. It was also a communion service, so at the appropriate time we participated in communion, and with further singing the service came to a close after an hour. The singing was hearty, and the songs really spoke to my own heart. I was personally greatly blessed and moved in my heart during the service, especially the song 'Take my life and let it be, consecreated Lord, to Thee'.

We broke for tea/coffee and the fellowship of people was swelled by a larger, younger crowd for the second service. There were dozens of lovely children, and the strength of the congregation seems to be in the 20-40 age group which is unusual in many churches these days. A young man opened and led the service through. He was a gifted and Godly young guy, and we were blessed just by his leadership, humour and ministry. The songs again were excellent. The congregation sang with great devotion, some being good old songs of the Church such as 'Rock of Ages' (to a tune written by a member of the church) to more modern songs that were new to Julie and I.

Again I found myself deeply moved and blessed, and so glad we timed our visit to Edinburgh with the opportunity to share the church services with Norma and Dennis. The Pastor preached on 'God, our Rock' - hence the importance and value of the song 'Rock of Ages'. He used the three sub points that God our Rock is Great; is Active and is Reliable. It was a very well prepared message, and the Lord used it to bring enormous blessing and meaning. It certainly did for me. The song of course was written by Augustus Toplady who lived between 1740 and 1778. He lived in Somerset (not far from the village of Wells where we had visited) and was caught out one day in a violent storm while walking around a rocky cliff face. He took refuge from the storm in the crevice of the rock face, and being a musician he became suddenly inspired about God who is our Rock, and who provides for us a place of safety and security in the Salvation He offers through faith in Jesus Christ. So he scribbled out the words of inspiration:

''Rock of Ages cleft for me, let me hide myself in Thee;
Let the water and the blood (a reference to the wounds of Christ at His Crucifixion)
From Thy wounded side which flowed
Be of sin the double cure, cleanse me from its guilt and power
Rock of ages cleft for me, hide me now my refuge be'.

We finished the service again with the song, which was sung with enormous power and meaning.

Incredibly we met a Sri Lankan couple who belong to the church. They provide the music for the first service. I mentioned that we have a lovely Sri Lankan lady who works on our team at Headquarters back in Sydney (Shantini), and it turns out that not only are these people friends, but also related and haven't heard from each other since 1984.

Shantini, if you are reading this, I gave them your email address - hope you don't mind.

It was just great to spend a relaxing day at 'home'. I have sat on the computer all afternoon and amused myself. It is now 5:30pm, and outside it is raining with a vengeance, just bucketing down. How much more rain can there be?

We have a free day tomorrow, then Tuesday we hit the road for St Andrews.

Jedburgh to Edinburgh - 81k - Sat 30 June

2007-07-02T01:36:00.000+10:00

It was the first fully blue sky we had seen since leaving Australia. As we looked out the window from our B&B room, the sky was actually fully blue, and the sun was shining.

A pity it lasted no more than an hour or so, before it closed over to being overcast and threatening rain yet again. After a wonderful breakfast shared with four other B&B'ers, we loaded and said our goodbyes to our wonderful host Amanda, and set our faces toward Edinburgh. We decided to take the A69, the main road. It was the most direct, and we didn't want to be late arriving, or caught out on the road in the rain.

We actually felt quite refreshed and fit, and made excellent time for the first 20k. We passed the turn to Melrose (our original destination) and pressed on to the Tweed River Bridge, where we just ahd to stop and take in one of the most wonderful sights of our journey. The river was a long way below, but the incredible rail bridge built just down from the road bridge was one of the most spectacular bridges we have seen on our journey. It seemed to be standing about 80 metres in the air above the waters of the Tweed, with very long brick shaped peers, something like the what we might see in Italy with the spans of bridges of the autobarns around the Italian alps. We had to stop and stare, and of course attempt to take a photo that paid justice to its utter magnificence.

The rest of the journey on the A69 was mostly uneventful, until we came to the climb up to the 'Soutra Summit', the highest point of a range just before the descent and long run into Edinburgh on the Firth of Forth. Actually, you don't realise you are on the range, until you eventually realise that you are down to your lowest gear, and you have been gently grinding for a while. At a drink spot, Julie said 'we've been climbing for 2k'. I hadn't noticed it so long, but after that I recorded a further near 3k before we went over the top. The map showed ' Soutra Summit' - which is deceiving in Scotland because the hills are totally bare of any kind of tress or bush. Basically they are just sheep paddocks. I stopped on top to take photos. The Firth of Forth (the North sea) were now visible, as was the outline of Edinburgh. We could also just make out Edinburgh castle in the far distance. Julie promised to ride slowly, while I took photos.

It took me 6k to catch her, at speeds up to 55kph off the summit. I went through the village of Fala at the bottom of the summit at 45kph, but gradually lost the momentum along the flat. When I caught her, she assured me she didn't pedal at all for most of the last 5k! She also had a 'spomgy' rear tyre, but because the weather was now turning foul, we chose to pump it every 5k until Edinburgh. The heavens then opend, and about 15k short of Edinburgh, it rained, and only got worse the closer we got.

It was exciting to enter the great city, and find our way eventually into the heart of the city. The great castle was now very clear. We passed by Hollyrood Castle where the Queen was now high and dry, and despite wrestling with wet roads, close traffic, bus drivers who had little patience with irritating cyclists, we found ourselves right in down town edinburgh, dripping wet from the rain. We ranh Dennis and Norma, got our final instructions, and despite a few wrong turns, managed to find their home within walking distance of Edinburgh Castle.

It was great to be in, and after a lovely shower we enjoyed a meal, and then a visit to the Royal Britaannia Yacht, and a drive around the old heart of Edinburgh.

Today we passed 2200k for the journey, with about 1350k remaining. I suspect that many of those kilometres will be over some tough terrain as we ride to John O'Groats, then back to the west of Scotland, and finally into Stirling. It was a great day on and off the road, for which we give thanks again to God in whom we put our trust for every moment.

Bellingham to Jedburgh - 78k - Friday 29 June

2007-07-02T01:05:00.000+10:00

As we approached the Scottish border the people came from everywhere. They had come from villages around, having heard the news that two older Australians had ridden their bikes from Paris through the worst of British weather to enter the hallowed turf of Scotland. They lined the road waving flags, amongst which we could see both the Aussie flag and the blue cross of the Scottish national flag. As we approached the sign that said 'You are entering Scotland', above the cheering crowds we could hear the sound of the bagpipes playing 'Scotland the Brave'. We fought the tears in our eyes, wondering at how such a grand spectacle as this could have been organised for these two humble Aussies on a private pilgrimage to the home of our ancestral births. As we entered Scotland, the sun shone radiantly with an extra sparkle as we crossed from England into the hallowed ground of Julie's ancestral heritage.

It was the crack of thunder that woke us from our dreamtime. It was early morning. We were still in our tent at Bellingham, and it was still pouring with rain! It would be the first day since leaving PAris that we would actually have to pack up our tent in the pouring rain. It was a very bleak outlook for the day we were due to enter Scotland. As happens in the UK, the rain stopped suddenly, the sun actually shone briefly, the tent started to dry and our hopes rose as we ate our usual breakfast of porridge with sultanas and coffee. Then when our hopes were suitably high, the heavens opened again, our tent was drenched, and we had little alternative but to eventually say 'lets roll', and get out in it to pack everything up in the falling rain. It really was no fun.

As we rolled out of the caravan park, the rain stopped and it didn't rain for the rest of the day! We decided to take in a brief visit to Bellingham, before turning back towards the caravan park, and then taking the long and lonely road to Kiedler Waters, which would then lead to the Scottish border at the top of the Northumberland National Park. It was a longer route than the alternative - the A69 to the north - but it was an outstandingly picturesque route through the National Park.

There were no strong hills to speak of, but the road rose a fair deal until we came to the Keidler Waters - a large reservoir at the base of the Cheviot Hills that run between England and Scotland. The views of the Waters were breattaking for the 20k or so that we had it in our view. We made it to the village of Keidler, at the start of the climb into the Cheviot Hills, and enjoyed lunch at the Tea Shop at Keidler Castle. BAck on the road, we had been riding for exactly 40k when Julie spotted the sign first. I insisted that she ride into Scotland first, so she led the way. Of course there was no cheer squad to greet us, apart from a paddock full of sheep! We stopped for photos at both the 'Welcome to England' and 'Welcome to Scotland' signs, and then left England for good as far as our bike journey was concerned. The landscape visibly changed within a few k, from the high managed pine forests of the Northumberland National Park, to the open and hilly sheep country of the Scottish Border country.

We followed a lovely stream for miles, which meant to road was flat to downhill, dodging sheep all over the road. It was such a lovely experience. Everywhere we culd see, the fields were dividied by stone walls, with stone sheep folds much like the ones that Jesus speaks about in the Gospels. Our stream eventually went too far south, and we had to turn north, joining the B6357 running from the Glasgow region toward Edinburgh. We turned north, and immediately started our own climb for about 6k up and over the Cheviot hills. It was a long climb, but at maybe 6-8% rather than the stiff 12-16% of Devon or Cornwall. The views were outstanding, both being walled in by hedgrows. It was a photographic paradise.

I have to say that it is recorded that Hadrian's Wall is the greatest example of Roman Engineering in all of Roman history, and they did a bit of building, but I would have to dispte this and say that what the English and Scots have achieved with the thousands upon thousands of miles of stone walls dividing their pastures and paddocks must outweigh the achievement credited to Hadrian and the Romans. As we climbed the Cheviot Hills, the spectacle of the stone fences all over the countryside, the sheep folds and the stone encirclements like small sheep forts was just stunning.

As we dropped off the other side at speeds up to 60kph, even I was feeling that by the time we get to Jedburgh, 20k short of our target town of Melrose, we would have had enough solid cycling for one day. So we set our sites on Jedburgh. The descent off the Cheviot Hills was just so stunningly picturesque. I let Julie go so I could take photos, which never show the magnificence of the original scene.

The 12% descent into the tiny village of Bonchester Bridge was matched by a similar climb out the other side, leaving about 20k to Jedburgh. We struggled on tired but happy legs for 15k, when we entered the ancient Jed Water Valley. It was a high speed cruise in all top gears down through the valley, to a truly remarkably beautiful village of Jedburgh (pronounced like edinburgh). The massive Abbey filled our whole screen as we entered the village, then we sdaw signs to the home of Mary Queen of Scots, then the fully in tact Castle on the hill - we knew we had discovered a gem of a place and were delighted to spend the night here.

We managed to find a lovely and reasonable B&B right in the village. We were warmly welcomed, and spent a very blessed night. Afetr we showered, we wondered the village, visiting Mary's beautiful and ornate castle like home right in the village (King Henry V111 wanted MAry to marry his son). We climbed to the CAstle, and then admired the Abbey which was not only huge but in reasonable condition given it has stood for more than a thousand years.

It was a memorable stay in Jedburgh. We gave thanks to God in our hearts as we made our way back to the B&B, for the way that He continues to bless us in remarkable and unique ways every single day. We went to bed knowing that tomorrow we enter the great city of Edinburgh, and two days off at the home of Norma and Dennis Innes.

Durham to Bellingham - 85k - Thurs 28 June

2007-07-02T00:24:00.000+10:00

We always look out the window or out through the tent flap to see what the weather is doing first thing in the morning. Our hopes are always for a fine dry track, but again this morning it looked bleak and potentially damp. As well as that, the wind was blowing from the north west, and thats exactly where we were headed, so it would be into the wind again today. After a great breakfast at the 'Gilesgate Moor Hotel', we had to head back down into the centre of Durham, then to climb out on the north western side to take the A691 initially to the village of Lanchester.

It was eveident that our hill free week had come to an end. We had left the fens finally for good, and the hills of Northumberland were already starting to test our legs. The wind was also a challenge, so all the way to Lanchester we stayed in low gears, but enjoyed the ride and the beautiful green countryside, patterned as far as we could see with stone fencing around sheep paddocks and cattle grazing lands. This was northern England, and quite a sight to behold and to enjoy from a bike, despite the testing hills again.

The sign entering Lanchester indicated the Roman Fort, so we headed into the village to explore, only to be told it was there on the hillside, but hadn't been excavated yet! It was still covered by nearly 2000 years of accumulated soil. The chap we spoke to though told us about the cycle track to the village of Rowley, which was on our way, so we thought we'd try once more to trust the NCN. It was really lovely for a while, going up and down and in and out of beautiful Northumberland farms on a narrow bitumen track, weaving in and out of farm yards and down through incredibly beautiful sheep filled, stone walled meadows. However, we came to a fork in the road, and no sign either way, and we lost our faith in the NCN and found the nearest gate and hopped back on the nearest road, finding out where we were at the next village. We were more or less on course.

We never saw Rowley, but got to the town of Castleside, out of which the road dropped at 12% gradient, so while hitting 60kph going down, all we think about is the corresponding massive climb at 12% out the otherside, which comes up awefully fast. We crawled the 2k or so out the other side at speeds of 4-6 kph.

The weather was getting more bleak as we headed on a long downhill again into Broomhaugh, heading for the Hadrian's Wall town of Hexham, the site of early Roman occupation. After darting across some minor roads, we came into Hexham thinking about our Jam sandwich lunch, still using the Bramble and Apple Jam from the Moors in Cornwall. It was a cold bleak day. The wind was blowing a gale, and we just wanted a quiet corner somewhere to sit and enjoy lunch. We never found one - so we huddled on a seat in the main shopping plaza at Hexham which the wind used as a tunnel to rush down. We enjoyed though sitting beside an Irish tourist who was so lovely - we all reflected on the lovely summer we had all come to England to enjoy for holidays. Meeting such people is a daily highlight for us.

We left town in threatening rain for Wall, a village just on the edge of Hadrian's Wall - the stone wall built by Emperor Hadrian about 1700 years ago to keep those pesky and annoying Scots from coming down into England and being a nuisance. Julie still maintains it had something to do with rabbits, but if it did it was a miserable failure. The rain was now falling as we passed through Wall. We didn't stop. It was too cold. The wind off the Arctic was bitter now. As we hurtled out of Wall down to the river, we passed the only section of the famous Wall we have been able to see. We didn't stop, crossed the raging river and turned left (west) on a side road that I was hoping would run parallel with several miles of the Wall. Despite our hopes, we climbed another massive hill to a lovely stone settlement of houses and farm yards at the top, but no signs of the infamous Wall.

We met some hikers who were doing the 'Wall Walk' so we followed them up a farm lane, but when they climbed over a ladder fence into the next paddock, we just had to keep riding, Julie leading me to neither of us knew where. We eventually came out on the road that we left when we turned west at the river, and it was the right road to Bellingham.

We were quite cold and wet now, and all we wanted was to see the village of Bellingham, which sits about 40k from the Scottish border. It was another hour or more in the cold wind and heavy rain, when we came down the final long and very cold descent toward the village that we could see when we crossed the final ridge. As far as we knew, the campsite was the only accommodation, and we hit the campsite first a few k short of the village, and turned in. The owners were lovely, and after a laugh and a chat about the lovely weather, he showed us to a patch of trees where he thought we would be nicely protected, and left us to set up, saying he would return in a few minutes with our code for the showers.

It was then that Julie started swatting. I was telling her to not worry about the bugs, and just get the tent up. It was raining afdter all, and time was of the essence. Then I started swatting too. They were in our hair, ears, eyes and anywhere where we had bear skin. We neede four arms and two legs to keep them at bay, and even then we couldn't. The owner then retuned and he said ''Are they midgees? I've got to get you out of here!''. This was our first experience with the famous Scottish midgees. Like fleas, they can hardly be seen, but in seconds they had infested us. We were near crazy with them. He told us then to set up in the wide open area in the middle of the caravans, but we unfortunately carried them with us for a while. So it wasn't a great introduction on the eve of our crossing into Scotland. The rain fell all night, and although we were relatively dry inside, it was probably our lowest ebb since starting out from Paris.

The weather really has been appalling, although we have been safe from flood. But the night was cold, and although we finally rid ourselves of the midgees, the rain was so intense overnight that our normally dry tent had to give in a little to the water overnight, and we had puddles in our 'lounge' area in the morning.

We even zipped our bags together and slept in the double bag for the first time, such was the feeling of cold. Actually, we didn't do the usual sleeping bag strangle, so the zipping together is not a bad way to go. We went to bed and woke the next day to the same sound - very heavy rain on the roof. We dropped off to sleep dreaming of the crossing into Scotland sometime the next day.

Darlington to Durham - 36k - Wed 27 June

2007-06-28T03:58:00.000+10:00

Ferryhill and Deanbank are two small villages co-joined like siamese twins, about 12k south of the great city of Durham. Around the time of WW1 and after, they were villages that were focussed almost entirely on the 'pit' - the coal mine a few hundreds yards down the hill from the centre of the tiny village of Deanbank. In those days, a family by the name of Price lived in the village. Mrs Price was a Godly lady, who ensured her daughter Eva went to the local Church sunday school. Later, a baby brother (Frank) joined the family, but by then things had changed. Mr Price was a serious drinker, and known for his more than occasional drunkenness. The Price family lived next door to another family whose name was Woods. The Woods were a large family, and were active members of the local Salvation Army at Deanbank. It is not clearly understood how, but one Saturday night, a slightly drunken Mr Price found his way into the Gospel meeting being held at the little Salvation Army at Deanbank. It was a time of great change in not only his life, but the life of his entire family. That night he responded to the call of the Gospel, and he surrendered his life to Jesus Christ. In Salvation Army terms, he 'got saved', born again and when he came home that night he was a changed man, never to go back to what he used to be. Next morning the Salvation Army Captain visited the home, and urged Mrs Price to begin attending the Salvation Army meetings with her husband as a means of encouraging him to keep committed to the decision he had made at the Altar the night before. Mrs Price did, and followed not long after by their daugher Eva Price, who met her husband there also (Bob Pearson), and were married, becoming very committed Salvationists in Ferryhill/Deanbank for the remainder of their days.

Whether it was the influence of the Woods family next door will never be known. Staunch Salvationists as they were, they were not without their days of tremendous grief. On 3 April 1915, just weeks before the landing of British and ANZAC troops on the shores of Galipoli, Mr and Mrs Woods (Francis and Johannah) stood weeping at a tiny grave in the Ferryhill cemetery. There 6yr old son had died, and was being buried in the family plot. Not long after, they were waving goodbye to their precious eldest son Frank who was going off to war with the British Expeditionary Force to fight on the western front between the Somme and La Marne. Would they lose another son? But further grief was to follow. Mr Woods was back at the family grave in 1921. His wife Johanna had died, and he again shed tears as she was laid to rest beside her infant son. She was 48 years of age. Her son Frank had not long returned from the battlefields of France, and was recovering from injuries. Their grieving was not yet over. In 1924, Mr Woods and son Frank stood again at the family grave, with members of the local Salvation Army, this time for the burial of the two daughters of Frank and Johanna - Annie and Evelyn were both 24 years of age, both lives being cut tragically short by tuberculosis. The extent of grieving of this Woods family cannot be imagined. But in the long shadow of this terribly prolonged period of grieving, a precious little baby girl was born, in 1923 to Frank, who had married not long after his return from the battlefields of France. They gave her the name Betty, who would become the second eldest child in a family of 8 children.

Betty Woods was 5 years of age when she, with her Mum and dad, waved goodbye to the remainder of the Woods family at Deanbank to start a new life in Australia. They came to Melbourne, then to Adelaide before settling at Maitland in NSW in 1928. Her Dad Frank only knew life in the pit at Deanbank, so he joined the pit in Maitland, where he served the remainder of his working life. But only a few years after he moved to Maitland, tragedy was to strike yet again. His wife, and now mother of 8 young children tragically died of the Flu, aged 36 years of age. Betty was the eldest daughter, and at 14 years of age left school for ever to become 'mum' to her 7 brothers and sisters, the youngest of whom were twins of 18 months of age. Her Dad eventualy married again, and the children grew, and Betty herself met a young Military man named Les from Tamworth, fell in love and was married, having a further 6 children of her own.

Betty Woods and Eva Pearson are still alive. Eva still lives in Ferryhill. Her wonderful husband Bob was 'Promoted to Glory' (a Salvation Army term) some 25 years ago, and Betty and Les were divorced over 30 years ago. Les died at 84 years of age, but Betty at age 85 still lives in Canberra, attends faithfully The Salvation Army and is matriarch of her family of 6 children, 26 grandchildren and at least 15 great grand children.

When we left Darlington on a very wet morning on 27 June, we were expected at Ferryhill at about 11am at the home of Mrs Eva Pearson. The ride to Ferryhill was not all that memorable. We persevered with the wet track, and found ourselves going straight up the highway towards Durham, until we came to the little village on top of a hill - Ferryhill. We found Eva's home, and when we knocked, one of the world's most wonderful and gracious ladies answered the door. It was a most wonderful pleasure to meet Eva, and to spend quality time with her. She had prepared lunch for us - homemade silverside pie, vegetables and then homemade raspberry pie with cream, and tea. We listened to the stories of the old Ferryhill and Deanbank, about life at The Salvation Army, about life living next door to the Woods family, and the changes in the village since those days.

She then took us to the cemetery to take us to the Woods family grave. As Julie stood at a distance talking with Eva and the cemetery caretaker, I came aside and sat at the two headstones with the names of 6yr old Walter, his mother Johanna, his two sisters Evelyn and Annie, and an extra - his Dad Francis who died in 1935 and is buried there with his wife and three children. In my moments of quietness beside this precious family grave, I fought my own tears and wrestled with my own sense of grief in trying to imagine the sadness of a mum and a dad, and a family at the tragic loss of family under these circumstances.

As we reluctantly rode away down the hill past the 'pit' on the way to Durham later that afternoon, I could hardly see for the tears that suddenly welled in my eyes again, as I recalled in my imagination again the scene at the Woods family graveside all those years ago - my grandfather Frank, holding his newborn baby Betty - my mother - in his arms as he grieved the loss of his two sisters to an incurable illness.

It was no time at all before we rolled down the long hill into the beautiful city of Durham, the towering Cathedral and Durham castle standing over us as they have stood for nearly a thousand years. It was far too wet to set up camp in a soggy camping ground. We were also told there was no accommodation left in the city because it was University graduation, but as only the Lord can provide, we found the last room in town at the Gilesgate Moor Hotel just on the edge of town, and tucked ourselves in out of the rain and cold.

As happens in England, it took no longer than our showers for the the sun to break through, and the skies to clear, giving us several hours to explore the town before having a great night's sleep for our long trek to Bellingham (pronounced 'Belling-Jam') on the edge of the Scottish border the following morning. We went to bed with fervant prayers on our hearts for a dry track all the way to Scotland!

York to Darlington - Tues 26 June - 83k

2007-06-28T03:50:00.000+10:00

The rain stopped at 1am, to allow the ferocious winds from the NW to blow the place around! We were riding NW, weren't we, when dawn came! We left the caravan park that was now very much empties of caravans, and noticed with alarm that the Ouse was now at the very lip of the top of its banks - any higher by inches and the caravan park would be under. We rode out of town - no rain - but a very strong, cold wind from the arctic, in our faces for the next 80k!

We planned to get to Darlington, to put us in good stead for the visit to Ferryhill the next day, ythe place of my mother's birth.

It was a gruelling day, and little to say for it. The winds were strong, Julie tucked in behind me which was the best place to be, and I ground it out at about 12-15kph all day in the low gear becasue thats all I was capable of in the conditions. We did 20k segments, but between these it was head down, and it was little fun. The lovely villages along the way though were lovely, especially Thirsk where we sat in the town square huddled behind the Memorial to something, having lunch. We came into Darlington later in the afternoon. There were no camping grounds. We tried several Hotels, and finally found one - The Dalesman - it was more than ordinary, but the food nice, and an appropriate price. We were just glad to be in after a hard day on the road into the hard wind all day long. It was incredibel to see the news at night about all the toewns in Yorkshire that had gone under in the floods. A dam in Sheffield had a crack in the dam w;;, and had to be released slowly, which only flooded other towns.

It was remarkable really that we were able to get out of York unscathed, and get so far when for most of Yorkshire it was serious flooding, with people out of homes, and much damage to housing. Worst in history some reports said. Its all the talk over hear anyway. But it was a rain free day!!

York - Day Off - Mon 25 June

2007-06-28T03:38:00.000+10:00

We slept in until 9:30am, which is not a bad record considering that it continued to pour and pour with rain all through the night. The little tent stood firm and still, a credit to the 'Pro-bike' crew who made the tent. It remained dry and actually warm. We had lunch lined up with friends from a town to the south, but due to the now hazardous flood warnings and roads cut by floods in Yorkshire, we agreed it was best to defer lunch.

Julie and I stayed in the tent for another hour or so wondering what to do, feeling disappointed that on the only day we had to see \york, it was teeming with rain. So at 11am or so we said 'blow this', got dressed and walked the 1k to town, getting totally saturated as a result. We checked out the TIC and then the Library, both warm dry places, and had a great 'Sunday roast' with Yorkshire pudding at a local 'pub', all for just a few pound, a great deal. That also warmed us up. After some quality internet time at the Library, we walked the streets ofYork, dodging rain under shop awnings etc. It was not the best but it was enough. At 5:15pm we went to Evensong at the great York Minster. This was not only dry, it was a most wonderful experience. The choir sang unaccompanied the verses of Psalm 119 from 72 to 104. It was just Heavenly for these two Pilgrims. We felt it was the best way to appreciate and value York Minster, as a worship and spiritual experience. The high vaulted ceilings, and centuries old beautiful stained glass windows the likes of which we have never seen came alive in our faith and hearts as the scriptures were read of Jesus seeking the lost, the choir singing and the congregation reciting the Apostles Creed and the truths of our faith. This was worth the whole day, and we really didn't need any other experience of York.

As we walked home we checked out the thousand year remains of William the Conqueror's original castle, and walked along the river Ouse which bisects York, and which any hour was expected to break its banks. If it did, our home for the night would be floating!

We went to bed wondering, but not worried. Many of the caravans had deserted during the day. The rain kept falling, but we expected to be there in the morning, but praying that tomorrow would be fine for our trip to Darlington. We are truly tired of the wet weather. It has rained on us in various degrees every day for a fortnight.

We actually had a cold night in the tent. The ground was too sodden, and I guess it was the intense cold coming up under the tent, but we remained dry inside. It was another good day though, and we went to bed with a happy heart, grateful to God for all his many mercies to us.

Burton Upon Stather (Scunthorpe) to York - 108k - Sun 24 June

2007-06-26T00:06:00.000+10:00

I think the last Blog finished when we had reached Scunthorpe. Scunthorpe is not the place to come to for holidays. It was a stop off point for us on the fional run to our campsite at Burton Upon Stather, a beautiful old village from almost Norman times, just north of 'Scunt', and a mile or so from the ancient village of Normanby.

Anyhow, before I go further, Julie has absolutely insisted that I tell you that I fell off my bike in one of the main streets of Scunthorpe! We arrived looking like drowned rats. I think I have told you about the very wet run from Lincoln during the morning. Once we hit the city centre of Scunthorpe, outside the library of all places, the sun broke through and it was quite hot. So we took coats off and dried out in little time, changed the socks using the entry to the library as our change room! I hung my gloves on the bike, chianed them up and went for a 'pie and chips' at the local market, and by the time we came back, the gloves were dry, as were the bikes, panniers etc.

We headed up the long street of shops for a grocery store to buy the few supplies for the night, not knowing we had passed into a strongly ethnic part of town. The one gracery store we found was all in arabic, so we kept looking. I think the next one was polish, and when Julie came to the counter with what she thought was milk, the man said @I suspect you want milk - but that isn't milk!' So she was shown the 'taciate' - should have known all the time - from a polish speaking cow of course!

Then we tried to find our way out of town. Becasue the sun was shining, we knew where north was, so we went the way the shadows indicated and came to the 'corner fatale'. Instead of stopping to check traffic both ways, I simply tried to balance the bike for longer than a brief pause and stationary speed, and overbalanced the wrong way (ie the side with the shoe still clipped to the pedal). Julie really was concerned for a few seconds, thinking what next could he break, but when I bounced up like a youth she kept insisting from that instant that it had to be recorded for all to know - that the cycling legend fell off his bike, once again. Only pride was injured I am glad to say.

The camp at Burton Upon Stather is the best we have encountered. It is five star, with just a few people there. The amenities are far better than most homes, and it was a lovely night, and a sadness to have to make the long hard climb up to the village from the river where we were next morning on our long haul to York.

For the next 20k we wandered across north Lincolnshire countryside, and then looming into view was the magnificent Humber Bridge across the Humber River at Hull. It is 3k across, and froma distance looks like a mirror of the Golden Gate. It is a magnificent sight, and it was in view for miles and miles.

We hit the bridge at the same time as the Hull half marathon which was coming from the north as we crossed from the south. We stopped briefly at the TIC at the northern end, and got final instructions on the NCN 65 (National Cycle Network) which was to take us the final 80k to York, mostly by off road means.

Then it started to rain, and as I write 24 hours later, it has NOT STOPPED RAINING HEAVILY CONTINUOUSLY (emphasis mine!). We rode all day in the rain. I had a flimsy photocopy of the page from Lonely Planet of the NCN 65, and we had small occasional signposts to follow. We did just about every village between the Humber and York, and a lot of it off track. At one point we were so wet and cold we stopped at a church to eat. The doors were unlocked so we went in and sat in the back pew to have sandwiches and bananas and apple. We left a note of gratitude. Then back into the rain again. We cut through sheep paddocks, along river banks on single dirt tracks (all NCN 65), we had thistles and nettles brushing our bare legs as we negotiated this thing called a Cycleway. We rode through mud tracks, avoided cows in our path, over riverways and through endless gates, and then finally got totally lost near Selby, still some 39k to York.

I wanted to hit the main highway and get out of this mess, but we met two nice english cyclists who had just come from York on the NCN 65 and said it was really worth doing (apparently we had been through the worst). So we gave in to it, and with a minimum of further fuss, found ourselves on a normal bike path alongside the highway, which then diverted across lovely country on a rail trail all the way to York. There were no hills today after the Humber, but half the rail trail was dirt (mud in our conditions) until near York where it became bitumen.

We arrived after some 108k of mostly wet weather. It was 6pm, and we had ridden well all day despite the conditions. Julie especially did it 'in her stride' and was riding well right into York. We were though, like frozen, wet chickens. The final route took us right across the York race track, and into the old walled city whose origen dates back to AD71 and Roman occupation.

We set up the tent in the rain, and after showers etc walked the 1k into town. The rain eased a bit. But overnight it dumped with a vengeance. The tent (praise the Lord) is very dry and warm inside, so we and the gear are fine. It rained all night, and the talk this morning is of the river rising and flodding the camping ground. It has rained all through the day.

We slept in despite this, and got up about 9\;30am this morning (our day off). At about 11am we said 'blow it' we are going out, so we have cruised the inner old city despite the rain. We will attend evensong at the great Cathedral tonight. We are praying for the Sovereign God to influence the weather sufficiently overnight to give us a dry track tomorrow.

Mum - tomorrow we hit County Durham (my mother's birthplace) and expect to check out the little village of Spennymoor where you were born.

Thats more than enough from me this time. York is great despite the rain. We hit over 1800k yesterday, just more than 50% of the total k's we will do. We have done 3 weeks, and have 4 to go. We are in great shape and high spirits. We laugh a lot. We send our love to all at home. With love....k & J

Lincoln to Scunthorpe (Burton Upon Strather) - 60k - Sat 23 June

2007-06-24T01:03:00.000+10:00

As of writing, today is not finished. We are at Scunthorpe, a few miles short of Burton Upon Strather.

We left Lincoln this morning in heavy rain. Its no fun heading out in the rain. We stood near the Cathedral for a while to let the worst of the heavy downpour pass, but eventually we had to hit the road north out of town. The weather being what it is, we took the A15 which is ramrod straight for the 45k north to Scunthorpe. Our camp site is at Burton on Strather a few miles further up the river. We cant wait to get there.

Leaving Lincoln was difficult. It is such a glorious place, packed with history. We no sooner left town in lighter rain, than we could see and hear the signs of thunder and lightning overhead. We were just a few miles out on the road and it bucketed and bucketed down. Only cyclists know the horrid feeling of the wet backside that feels awash, the shoes instantly filled with water, and completely drenched. We were covered as best we could, and just kept head down and cycled on. Visibility was not great, but we banked on the predictability of english weather in that it could be sunshine in ten minutes. Well.......it rained on and off, then it bucketed down again, and the annoying this was that just a few miles to our left the sun was shining on the fields!

Anyway, the road was flat, the wind was mostly behind us, and we just again put the hammer down and went for it, doing a slightly better average than the day before, but for not as long.

We got into Scunthorpe totally wet and drenched. We found the centre, outside the library, changed our socks, the sun was now out(!) and we took coats off and started to dry.

We have camped in the library in the near free compueters, and will leave soon for the beautiful Burton on Strather where our home will be tonight.

We hit York tomorrow, and a day off on Monday. We are aiming for Evensong in the York Cathedral tomorrow evening.

Our thoughts and prayers are with you, everyday. Love K&J

Kings Lynn to Lincoln - 105k - Fri 22 June

2007-06-24T00:42:00.000+10:00

We decided that because there was so much offering at Lincoln to see, and because the weather is bad at least to lowsy at best, we would hit the main road all the way to Lincoln, and bi-pass the towns of Kings Lynn and Boston along the way as per the original plan. It was a wet night, and we packed up in the rain and headed off with heads down shielded from the rain.

We crossed over the River Ouse for the last time and headed west, again with a favourable breeze behind us, and with the road still as flat as a pancake! Julie led today all the way, and we did our best days average since starting our ride!! She rides really well on the flat - she is not keen on the hills, but for now - no hills!

We also decided to stay in a B&B in Lincoln, because the planned camping ground was several k out of town, and that would not make it easy to get in tot he Castle and Cathedral late in the day as planned, especially in the wet.

So we 'put the hammer' down, and rode having the time of our life. At twenty k and forty k we would stop and drink and have some M&M's, and then get back into it. We stopped after about 60k at a little village of Swinehead, just off the highway for lunch. It had a most outstanding Church in the centre of village that we could see for miles before, but also a centre memorial to war dead, including a set of stocks from days of old. As soon as we prepared lunch, the rain bucketed down on us, and we finished it standing under the awning of the church hall.

We set sail to Lincoln, as as we approached Lincoln from the east, it was wet, and the road started to introduce some hills, and much to Julie's disappointment, it chewed away slightly at the great high average that she was so proud of. We found our way into Lincoln. It is basically a boring large town, but perched high up on the hill in the centre is the Castle and Cathedral both started by the orders of William the Conqueror in 1068.

We had to head for the Cathedral because we knew our B&B was just down the road. We went through the centre of town, and met the really old village just inside the old walls, then straight up ''Steep Street'' - the famous steep street street named appropriately, and made our way to the B&B dripping wet but happy and spirited. After a bath, we explored the Cathedral and the old town which is so beautiful and ornate, and then had tea at the Aussie pub ''The Walkabout'', meeting a girl on staff from Wollongong. We asked why is she here when she could be home surfing - she said she was asking herself the same. It was pouring with rain outside.

It had been a great day. While the rain came down, we made our way back up 'Steep Hill', and then the few hundred yards to our B&B for the night. The Cathedral is bigger then Ely Cathedral. It is just magnificent, and when we attended there tonight before dinner, we just missed Evensong, but were given a lovely tour of the building with insights into its wonderful history.

Its been another great day. Without doubt, Julie's best day on the bike - 108k of magnificent riding with all her panniers and back pack. She has really improved in the cycling stakes.

We had no trouble getting off to sleep! Thanks for all the thoughts and prayers from back home. We really are doing fine. We realised today that in just 5 days, we will bash our way over Hadrian's Wall and enter Scotland! Today we hit 1600k or thereabouts. We give thanks to God everyday!

Ely (Little Thetford) to Kings Lynn - 51k - Thurs 21 June

2007-06-24T00:27:00.000+10:00

We were keen to get into Ely and spend quality time. It was a just a few k on the bike, and falt all the way. Ely Cathedral is just a stand-out, but so is this beautiful of beautiful villages. Origianally known as the the 'Isle of Eels', it was an island in the marshy swampland before the fens were drained and banked and now beautiful flat farming land for hundreds of square miles. It was and still is famous for its eels. And this is another story. Eels are a delicacy apparently. Look this up on the net. Its fascinating.

It is also the birthplace of Oliver Cromwell, who lived here and worked here as a Collector of Tithes before his political ambitions were realised. We visited his home, which now houses the Tourist InformationCentre.

We also took Julie's bike to the Ely bike shop for repairs to the brakes, which happens to be owned by Mark Zonski(please forgive spelling of surname) who is the World Champion indoor sprint cyclist from last years Masters Games. He sends his regards to our local champ at Parramatta Bike Barn, Geoff Stoker with whom I ride each Saturday. We explored the beautiful town. The village markets were happening in the square, we strolled down to the water of the great river Ouse with its ducks and canal boats, and then up the hill to town again and explored and admired the great Cathedral of Ely. To leave this beautiful village after many hours of exploration was difficult. We are not tourists, but pilgrims. We are on a journey of discovery and also spiritual fulfillment. To stand back and try to take in the majesty of this massive and inspiring piece of medievil architecture was very challenging due to its immense beauty and sheer size. We wonder today how men without technology could build such magnificent buildings of lasting quality.

The bike shop fixed Julie's brakes, and refused payment. We meet these gracious people all the time. We left town, to follow the River Ouse to Littleport to the north, then literally alongside the river bank (built like a dyke in Holland - we didn't see the river much) to the village of Ten Mile Bank. We had lunch on top of the 'dyke' with view of the river, milk coffee included, then hit the main road after Ten Mile Band into King's Lynn. We were headed actually for North Runcton, a village just short of Kings Lynn, where we camped for the night, another nice camping ground. The weather was still overcast if not wet, and it rained again overnight. North Runcton is mentioned in the Domesday Book just after the Battle of Hastings, so has great history. It was granted freedom under King John in 1204, so we were camping in a place of great history.

It is a rich farming area. Again today, all flat all the way, with a kind breeze. Just wish the weather was better. We have hardly seen sun in England. But we are safe, warm, happy and keen to see and do more each day. Having a great time together.

Love to you all.

Olney to Ely - 90k 20 June

2007-06-21T22:31:00.000+10:00

We were rather sentimental about leaving Olney. Last evening we celebrated \julie's 51st birthday at ''The White Swan'' - a lovely English pub in the centre of town. The food was outstanding. While there, outside the rain was that heavy it was bouncing on the roads and the footpaths. We were glad to be inside. Just prior to dinner we walked to the Church of St Peter and Paul, just a few hundred yards away on the edge of the village. This was John Newton's Church where he was Curate, and where he penned the great song of the Church ''Amazing Grace''. We were a little surprised to see the Church graveyard that surrounded the Church so overgrown with long grass. It was a very historic cemetery, and eventually we found Newtons grave. He shared the plot with his wife Mary, and also beside was his father in law (mary's father). We stood with great reverence at this spot, and marvelled at his story which was basically inscribed in the back of his granite tombstone. He called himself an 'infidel', against all the things of God, until by God's 'amazing grace' he was saved from this life of rebellion, and committed to Christ. Sadly, this is hard to read because it is jammed up against the side fence of the graveyard. His father in laws grave is also suitably inscribed with the great verse from Scripture ''For I know whom I have believed, and am pursuaded that HE (God) is able to keep that which I've committed unto Him, until THAT day''. Just meters from Newton's grave, a homeless alcoholic has made his temporary home. We spoke with him. A sad story, but he sang to me the words of amazing grace to the tune of 'The Rising Sun'. I have been humming ever since. My sadness is, I didn't meet a person in Olney who really knew the complete story of John Newton. I guess this explains the run-down state of the graveyard. His song is the one hymn of the church that has survived centuries, and is still the one song asked for at funerals even from families who have never stepped foot inside a church in their loives. Such is the power of this song that tells the story of an 'infidel' come follower of Christ.

We left the lovely Colchester House (Peter and Judith Blanbinsop) on another bleak and overcast morning, but with a wind to our backs and a flat road all the way to Cambridge. We made very good time. Julie cycles really well on the long flat roads, and is hard to keep up with! We managed our way through the substantial town of Bedford, then headed more north on the A421 with a rendevous with the A1 - a massive motorway running due north. We just merged in, wondering if in fact we were allowed on, but with a strong wind pushing us, we put heads down and tails up and sailed at 38kph for many miles. I sat behind Julie, and we didn't stop or slow until we had to vere off easterly for Cambridge. It was just superb cycling conditions. Trucks were a worry, because they physically lift and shove the bikes with the force of the wind they carry with them.

We still had breeze behind, although we had changed directions, and headed for Madingly, a small village a mile or so before Cambridge. Here we visited the American Military Cemetery and Memorial. It was an immaculate picture of US planning, not dissimilar to the great Omaha Military cemetery at St Laurent sur mer in Normandy. Then into Cambridge. We sat in the large park alongside the River Cam, watching the river boats, and hundreds of students just having fun in their various groups, playing games, wrestling, volley ball etc as we cooked up a storm for lunch. Milk coffee is our delicacy. We explored Cambridge a little, but we had to hit the road north now for Ely (Eelee). We decided to find a camping ground just south of Ely, so we could spend time at Ely next day.

Little Thetford was the place of rest for the night - the ''Two Acres Caravan and Camping ground''. It was just a camp site. But the toilets and showers were clean and hot, so we had no complaints. We were already in sight of the magnificent Ely Cathedral. The land is tarmac flat, hence cans ee for miles. The Ely Cathedral stands out for miles and miles across this countryside, a most wonderful and daunting sight.

This had been agreat day . We did 90k on the bikes, and all flat ground, and with wind to our backs. We were in good form and high spirits. Camping is surprisingly comfortable. The tent is snug, and despite the rain and wintry conditions, we have never been cold, damp or despondent in our tent.

We thank God for another great day!

Charlbury to Olney - 84k - Tues 19 June

2007-06-21T22:13:00.000+10:00

We woke to what appeared to be the first blue sky we had seen since leaving Paris. It didn't last very long though, although it looked like the day would nevertheless be fine. It was dry overnight, and the tent came up looking dry by morning. We were certainly dry inside! We always enjoy a great breakfast. This morning was porridge with sultanas and bananas, then a near full english breakfast of pork and apple sausages, baked beans and eggs, followed by coffee late made on full cream milk (and we still lose weight!!).

It was Julie's birthday today, and we were headed to a B&B at Colchester House in Olney. We chose Olney because it is where the Church of St Peter and Paul is located, where the Rev John Newton was Curate for many years, and where he wrote the song of his life ''Amazing Grace''.

We skipped the showers this morning because they were too cold for enjoyment. We rolled out on the roiad north at about 9:30am. The toll of miles was accummulated in our legs. Neither of us felt like any more hills today. The news was though that for the next few miles it would be more hills, then we hit the flats for several hundred k's. We hit the hills rather unenthusiastically, but the views of the Cotswalds were spectacular. We went through the Tews, then turned east into a strong breeze on the B4031, all the way across country to Milton Keynes.

This was actually slow going, but as each village came and went we enjoyed the ruins, the beautiful lanes and even the canals that ran across this part of the country. We stopped on top of a small arched stone bridge to discover beceath several canal boats that just looked so lovely, with the large paddocks of sheep in the background, looking further back over the distance Cotswald country. It was all a very pretty picture.

We then passed through Croughton, where we came across a RAF airbase. The main entrance looked wonderful, with two US fighter jets parked on display out front. We stopped across the road for M&M's (part of our mid meal diet, with peanuts of course, or occasional snickers bars!) and fruit, while Julie took photos of the Fighter jets and the entrance of the Air Base generally. We then pressed down the road.

Minutes later we were passed by a Police car, and then a mile or so later we came across the Police car which had just pulled in to the drive way of a local Pub. I watched the Police get out of the car as I approached, but becasue they didn't go into the pub, I had feelings that something was up. They were waiting for us. We stopped ever so politely, and they asked us if we had been taking photos of the air base. Of course we had, and we thought there would be nothing wrong. They said they had been alerted by the US authorities that ''some teenagers on bikes were reported taking photos of the Base'' - hence a security alert went out!!

We said we were flattered to be considered teenagers, but by this time even the Police were smiling. I asked if we could take their photo, so the last memory we have is the Police posing just immediately the last photo of the US Fighters! We waved them goodbye, wondering what they will tell the US authorities (who, bybthe way, have taken over the RAF AirBase for their purposes.

We eventually made it to Olney, visited the church where JohnNewton served, and sat beside his grave reflecting on his life and the words that are now world famous. I want to say more here, but am told that my time on this computer is up.

We had a lovely dinner with Julie, a great B&B and were really sad to make our way out of town the next day.

Bath to Charlbury - 109k - Monday 18 June

2007-06-21T22:01:00.000+10:00

It was sad to leave Bath. It was a great home for these two days. \it rained all through the night, and as we woke this morning it was still raining. \it would be a wet track today. We said our goodbyes, and headed out of town on the A4 for Chippenham. It was a nice flat run at first, but then it went into a steady 6k gradual climb that had us wondering at the end just how high the road could possibly go. It flattened eventually, and it was a great glide then all the way to Chippenham, through some beautiful countryside and lovely villages. It remained wet most of the day. We longed for the summer!

We took the A38 that became the A429 all the way to the ancient town of Roman influence at cirencester. It was flat road all the way, and quite good cycling but for the rain. We both rode really well. Julie's bike legs for the long flats have improved remarkably. She can really make her loaded bike move. We hit town at 1pm for lunch in the marketplace, despite the wet. There is not much of Roman left in Cirencester, except what has bee preserved in the museum. We rolled out of town in the rain, looking for the A417 to Lechlade ( a really beautiful place) - a town of a thousand flags! We pressed on, really quite weary of the weather now, just wanting to get in for the night. We were past 80k for the day, with still a bit to go. Then the hills started again past Burford.

We were keen for the signs to Charlbury, a beautiful town on top of the Cotswalds. It was a climb up to the town, just over 100k, with the good news that the Camping ground was a further 'mile' north of town, and it had to be at the top of a hill, assuring views across the Cotswalds.. It was a farm setting. A really beautiful place, and we cooked our tea and then went to bed with the sounds of baby goats bleeting over the hedge next to us, and the occasional sound of the donkeys not far from us. Apart from the cool water in the showers, this was a great place, and a comfortable night despite the wet. It is always great to arrive, and we gave thanks to God for yet another safe day.

Glastonbury to Bath - 47k - Sat 16, Sun 17 June

2007-06-18T03:52:00.000+10:00

We left Glastonbury after a great night at the 'King William' - a great old Hotel in the heart of the city. We started the day with a great 'full english breakfast' in the small kitchen area. There was only Julie and I, and one other couple for breakfast. When the other couple left the small dining area, we had a visit from the Hotel cat. We ignored it as best we could, so to get our attention it jumped up on the table beside us and sat on the bread plate, as well as the lovely newly set cutlery. We wondered whether it had been sitting on our table before we came into the room! We had a tour of the ruins of the Glastonbury Abbey, and then set off for Wells, a lovely village with a massive Cathedral and Bishop's Palace around which the village of Wells has been built. The land was granted to the Bishop by King John in 1209, and has been gradually added to by Bishops over the years. Itr is a massively beautiful structure. The road to Wells was delightfully flat, and we enjoyed the pleasant ride for the 9k to Wells. The great old Hymn of the Church 'Rock of Ages, Cleft for me (a reference to Jesus) was written near here, and the tune in our Salvation Army Tune Book 'Wells' is used for this Hymn as well as other words composed for Salvation Army use (Holy Spirit, dwell with me.....) so guess what I was humming as we climbed our way out of Wells. We \had a great visit - met great people in Richard and Louise, and enjoyed the sunny stroll through the Bishops Palace grounds. The ride out was a shock - once we left the village it started to climb, and didn't stop until another 7k or so later. We were crossing the Mendip range though, so we should have expected it.

The ride to Bath was otherwise enjoyable, especially the approach to this ancient Roman city of hot Baths and spas, which was flat to downhill for many k's, with spectacular scenery of the ancient and approaching city. We were booked in to the White Hart Hotel, right in the heart of Bath. We found our way there fairly easily, and after a shower enjoyed a stroll through the inner city area.

After a great nights sleep, we enjoyed a full rest day today. It was a day of strolling and sightseeing - the Abbey, the Roman Baths, the Circus and numerous other great attractions of the city. The city is beautiful, and being Father's Day here it was full with families enjoying a clear day for a change. We had a lovely afternoon sleep, a BBQ in the back gardens of the White Hart, and will have a quiet evening to prepare for our 100k to Charlbury tomorrow.

The middle part of England has been deluged with floods. We are trusting that by the time we make it there the water will have subsided. Almost all of UK has been wet over these past few days.

We send our love to all - until you hear from us again. Thanks for your messages. Its great to hear from you. K&J

We are quite fine and relaxed. We have both lost incredible weight, which I guess is not surprising - no fat in our diet and strenuous exercise all day long. Nothing fits too well anymore!

Crediton to Glastonbury - 96k (see previous) - Fri 15 June

2007-06-16T19:11:00.001+10:00

Launceston to Crediton - 66k - and Glastonbury 96k)

2007-06-16T18:49:00.000+10:00

It rained heavily all night at launceston, and this morning we headed off in the rain on a very gloomy morning. Actually, the disappointing thing about our two weeks so far has been the weather. \it certainly hasnt been summery, with mist most of the day, cold mostly and only occassional sun for very short appearances.

We climbed out of Launceston and hit the highway to Okehampton, but shortly after took the B road across country - just a series of more hills. Okehampton was a pleasant sight, but the drissle kept us with our heads down. Okehampton is a lovely village with historic castle ruins and lovely churches. For lunch we tried our first cornish pastry, eventhugh we were now in Devon. That and the date surprise made for a very delicious lunch in this lovely town. We were aiming for Tiverton for the night, a day of about 80k, but on checking at the TIC we discovered no camping grounds for miles. The one the dear lady could find was at the Salmaon Hutch at Crediton (actually near the tiny village of Uton). So we went there. Well - no showers, were there! But the lady in charge quickly assured us there was a cold water tap!! So on a day that was rain all day, and we worked very hard to find the Salmon Hutch out in the sticks outside Crediton over hills and down through ditches, and after confronting a loose, frisky cow on this narrow, grotty farm road (Julie said "I dont like cows"> I said "just ride straight for it". She said "but I dont trust coes". I said "Just keep riding". Well, the cow stared us down until about 20m range then when it was either her or us she bolted off down the road then disappeared somehow up through the hedge and out of sight.! Having dealt with the cow we resumed trying to find the Hutch with the one cold water tap. It was a nice setting beside a Salmon pond, but that was about it. We went to bed giggling away at the situation we found ourselves in. The cold towel wash was something we might recall for a while!

We left next morning again in the rain and the mud of the farm lanes, over the Salmon pond bridge, a railway line and then climbed the hill back into Crediton and out of town for the 100k to Glastonbury.

Ecery one we ask directions from adds "But its hilly, you know!" We say "we know, thanks!". On the way out of \crediton we asked directions to Tavistock. "Its this way - but its really hilly, you know!" Ah, they never fail! It was hilly!! It climbed from 4k out to about 14k with very little respite. We were at the very northern end of Dartmoor National Park, and we were high. We met some road cyclist coming up to our height from the other way (we were about to descend). One of them was walking!! So down we went and into Tavistock eventually, and passing in to Somerset. The country changed immediately. Gone were the beautiful fields, the lovely hedgerows, and......the hills.

We asked at Taunton which way to Glastonbury, and the garage man said "this way, and its a beautiful flat ride all the way!! And it was. So after 2 weeks of hills, and after about 65k so far today, we could put our heads down and really feel like cycling again. Julie did so well on this stretch, and when you consider her relative minimal miles on a bike before this trip, to have her rolling at 20-30kph all the way to \glastonbury was really quite a thrill.

However, she had three (!!) flat tyres today, so after the third we took time (we were just a few k from Glastonbury) to examine the tyre yet again, and this time found a small piece of wire about the size of half a staple embedded in her tyre.

We 'camped' at the King William Hotel last night at Glastonbury (a very new age place these days, the burial place for King Arthur and Queen Genevieve at the local Abbey) and have a short 40k to Bath and a day off as well.

Newquay to Launceston - 76k - Wed 13 June

2007-06-14T19:39:00.000+10:00

From the top of the cliff the views were enchanting looking back on Newquay. Words cannot describe. Today we followed the traditional End to End section to Padstow - 20k of couast and about 8 massive climbs - each with its own corresponding descent. We should have known. The End to End book callls them 'rolling hills'. My bet is they did it in the car!!!

At Padstow we descended rapidly into this famous port, and joined the Camel trail (along the Camel river) to Wadebridge). It was flat and went for about 20k. We took the highway from there to Camelford, where we picked up the End to End route across the top of Bodmin Moor. It really was across the top - we were back to sheep on the road etc.

Homework for Grandad Stewart - on top of Bodmin Moor just north of Camelford is a disused airfield from WW2, with a RAF Museum - its out in the sticks, but has that feel like it was used for Bomber Command - you may wish to check this out for me. On top it was a beautiful run almost to Launceston, except this time into the wind. We felt on top of the world.

After a few k we wentr past a side road jam for sale box. I said to Julie we should buy some, so I told her to cycle on slowly while I went back to buy some jam. I bought 2 jars of Bramble and Apple jam (home made) and then set off for Julie, who was tired and I thought might be just down the road.

Well, it too me 8k at nothing under 30kph to catch her! I was flying in my big chain wheel and highest gear at the back, and never caught sight of her until about 8k later. I was so frightened that she had turned off, and we would never find each other. By this time we were back into hedgerows and narrow lanes, so the forwward visibility was limited. I told her I am glad she was only going slow!

We got into Launceston and went for the White Hart Inn - an old pub pub right in the centre of the village, next to the 900 year old castle. We checked it out before dinner, and went to bed. We had a room with a bath - just luxury.

It was first bit of rain yesterday, and this morning we have woken to steady rain. Oh well, the body is waterproof.

We bless our friend whom we refer to lovingly and effectionately as 'Pommy Pete' who at the last minute loaned me his Ortlieb panniers. They are not only water proof, but the front panniers have tremendous height and are not restricted by a flap. We pack food in the front panniers, and when we load every 2nd day or so, they are full to the brim with eggs, milk, fruit, snags, etc etc. Thanks Pete and Gretchen (I think the front panniers are yours Gretchen). We think of you everyday.

Well - it may be a while before you hear from us agin. We head to Tiverton today (we have cut off the top route of Cornwall) and are taking the direct route to Bath.

Today we skirt around the top of Dartmoor National park again, and get to Tiverton, then to Glastonbury, then to a well earned day off in Bath.

Thanks for your thoughts and especially prayers from back home.

We really are having a good time - but are feelingf the cost of 1,000k on the road and especailly the hilly raod!

Our love is reciprocated to you. God bless you too!

Sennen - Lands End - Newquay - 81k - Tues 12 June

2007-06-14T19:29:00.000+10:00

We met two other cyclists at breakfast - wonderful people - Steve and Denise - who are doing the 'End to End' - but B&B'ing it. They left before us, and signed their papers etc at Lands End - we met them when we were on the way down, as well as another lone cyclist - he was headed for Newquay - Steve and Denise were headed to St Austell.

We loved Lands End - people had told us not to expect it to be anything - but the sun came out, the coast looked so enchanting, and their were lots of people about. A photographers paradise.

We were happy about paying for the official photo with our personal details on the historic sign post - and then reluctantly left for the 80k or so to Newquay on the northern coast of Cornwall.

First it was back to Penzance, and with the benefit of the nights rest, the return trip felt no where near as hilly as the night before.

We loved Penzance, and also reluctantly left, and decided to hightail it up the highway to Newquay, which we did in smart fashion. This was Julie's cruising terriory, and we made good time.

I will post more on this later. The fields of Cornwall are just enchanting, even from the highway.

I forgot to say, but on the Nroad between Torigni and St Lo where we shouldn't have been, we were unceremoniously escorted off by an RTA type van, who said it was too dangerous! We had our own lane, like the M2. They dumped us off on a country road with no verge, a bumpy edge singlre lane with traffic whizzing close by us - we felt ever so much safer!! Thanks french RTA.

In Britain no such restrictions - the traffic whizzes by - no verge but great roads.

Near Newquay we decided to pull off for 'chips' - and the lone cyclist who left about 1.5 hours befor us went by - we had somehow made up time and passed him during the day. All Julie's doing at the front of the pack!

Newquay is an equivalent to Surfers Paradise, except built like a typical smugglers cove. It was ceawling with uni students on a booze binge break. We were glad to be at the camp ground on the northern beach of Porth. It was a great night in the tent.

The next morning we walked the long long steep hill to the top of the Porth cliff (just for the magnificent views!!).

St Austell to Sennen (Lands End) - 92k - Mon 11 June

2007-06-14T19:21:00.001+10:00

Have you got the impression that we are tired of the Cornish hills (well, Dorset and Devon can take the blame also).

We decided to minimise the miles as much as possible, so after climbing out of St Austell, we cut across country (a bad thing really - just means more country lanes that are even steeper than the roads) to shoot straight for Sennen, a few k from Lands End. We originally had St Just in mind, but it is 10k north of Lands End, and meant doing the ten k next day, then a long day on top. I rang ahead to a Hotel at Sennen, and it was wonderful. The best thing we could have done.

The trip to Penzance from St Austell was full of the usual ups and downs, and we were very weary of hills. But arriving at Penzance was a most wonderful exoperience. The first sight that greeted us was St Micheal's Mount to the north, a sister (brother?) to Mont St Michel off the shores of Brittany/Normandy). Penzance is just what I expected - the pirate capital of Cornwall with its mysterious narrow lanes, quaint old buildings and of course they play on the pirate thing.

We enjoyed traditional 'fish n' chips' at a 'Walk the Plank' type Hotel looking over the beautiful dock area of Penzance, where just near us a traditional Pirate ship was moored, flying the 'Skull and Crossbones' of the traditional pirate era.

It was a tiring 20k to Sennen of more hills, but the last 8k was nicely flat to dropping and I cruised all the way behind Julie at exceptional speed. I dont think we did under 30kph which is excellent going loaded with about 80kg including bikes between us (my bike weighs about 48kg including bike.)

We met two other cyclists who came in from a side road and who got in front rather cheekily - but with Julie at the front and me in the passenger seat (ie in the draught) we passed them and left them for 'dead'. Good cycling Julie.

Julie is finding her legs now. She found the early days very hard, We called it training for the UK. On the flats she can really cruise.

The Hotel turned out to be a delightful B&B - our room had ensuite and bay windows with beautiful views to Lands End.

Princeton to St Austell - 78k - Sun 10 June

2007-06-14T19:14:00.000+10:00

Just more hills really. We got to Tavistock early in the morning, having now completed the crossing of the Dartmoor national park. It is very high of course, and across the top (while going up, then down, then up, then down.....) but across the top there are no fences - the black faced sheep roam free and are on the road. Some of the descents are done carefullay at 50kph in order to dodge the sheep sleeping on the road! A really beautiful experience, despite the many many hills.

At Tavistock we asked a Cornishman the road out of town. He mentioned Gunneslake up ahead (''you've got some hills in front of you'') - we heard this a thouasand times!. He said there is a climb of 1 mile into Gunneslake. Well we have news - we climbed 2k and thought that was the climb, then it plummeted. We crossed a lovely stone bridge and met the Cornwall 'welcome' sign, then it climbed, and climbed and climbed - this is granny gear stuff, and only for the mountain bikers ( ie Angus I kept thinking of you!). However, with my trusty granny engaged, I climbed it and when at the top again it was exactly 1.6k where I waited for Julie - then it climbed again until we left Gunneslake.

We just did more of the same until we made it to St Austell - the climb out of Lostwitherell was about 2k of sheer steep walls! We were late into camp, but enjoyed the dinner together. Too tired to walk over the hill to see the sea. We went to bed. Our tent is very snug and cosy. Good night!

Kennford to Princeton - 43k - Sat 9 June

2007-06-14T19:10:00.000+10:00

The hills were so bad yesterday, we decided not to waste precious energy and ride through Dartmoor and then north to Launceston, only to ride south the next day. We set our sites on Tavistock on the west side of the Dartmoor, but having ridden all day through the middle of the great Dartmoor national park, where the hills made the hills in Dorset look like mere bumps, we felt Tavistock was enough for the day. However, we didn't make Tavistock, and turned in to the little village of Princeton where we discovered Dartmoor prison where the worst of the British prisoners are housed. We stayed in a camp ground part of the 'Plume of Feathers Inn'. Actually it was crawling with campers and we had a great time. More on this later. The total of 43k for the day may seem small, but it took all of about 9 hours of very hard labour between stops for lunch and drinks. This was a very tough day at the ranch!

Chickerill to Kennford - 97k - Fri 8 June

2007-06-14T19:07:00.000+10:00

A massive day. We hit Dorset when we landed, and we have never ridden such hills - all coastline to Exeter (Kennford is just past Exeter). The hills seemed unrideable. It was hill after fill, and mostly several k long. The down hills were great but passed to quikly! I will post more on this later, but today was hills and beautiful beautiful scenery.

We got in to Kennford very late and glad to get to bed, after a sumptuous dinner made with perfection on the trusty Trangia!

Cherbourg to Poole/Chickerill - 51k - Thurs 7 June

2007-06-14T19:01:00.000+10:00

It was a nice start to the day - we ate 'petit dejourner' and lovely coffee at a traditional french cafe looking over the English Channel. The ferry was massive, and we had lovely lounge chairs each. Julie slept. We met an American who offered to take out photo, who then said his father was an original US 101 Airborne, who was on board with us. What an honour to share time with this quiet gentle man who as a 20 year old dropped at night on to where Dead Mans corner is now. He told us of his friend who dropped onto the Green Devils and was 'slaughtered' (his words). He was also friends with the guy who was caught on the church tower (who incidentally hung for a day pretending to be dead because the germans still occupied the town. He eventually sneezed or something, was captured alive and then spent the remainder of the war as a POW.

We got into Poole and the remaining 51k to Chickerill was fine - no major hills. We did pass through the British Army Tank Training area - miles on both sides of us - we could hear the tanks churning away but couldnt see them, expecting any moment to see a British Leopard loom over the high mounds at the side of the road.

The drop into Weymouth is a sight to behold - the most beautiful sweeping views of Portland, but at 60kph it is too hard to stop for the photo with a queue of cars behind on a single lane!

The camp ground is a working farm on the water. All just beautiful. Great night. The most modern facilities we have ever seen. Each with a personal ensuite.

Torigni to Cherbourg - 120k - Wed 6 June

2007-06-14T18:46:00.000+10:00

Another big day - we had to make up the 20k to St Lo, then get on the trail to Cherbourg. Today was DDay. St Lo was a famous battle site for the Allied armies under Montgomery. Otherwise, we found it a non event. The crawl out of St Lo was just staggering - it was steeply uphill for 2-3k and we didn't bother getting on the bikes!!! Once out of the town we were glad to get going. By the time we got to Carentan I had been promising Julie the flat lands of the Caretan where I knew the 101 US airborne troops were dropped on 6 June. The land is indeed flat and very watery - there were 89 US paratroopers drowned on the airdrop because the occupying forces had flooded the Caretan area. Their packs were too heavy once they dropped in to water, even shallow water.

By the time we got to Caretan there were initial sights of DDay activity. The days are mostly miserable thick clowd - today we thought it was actually raining but it was just really thick mist.

We got lost in Caretan and couldnt find our way out, but when we did we bumped into 'Dead Mans Corner' - now a museum of the US military, where the first paratroopers came down. We met one of them on the boat the next day who had dropped exactly there, his friend dropped a few hundred meters away right into the lap of the Green Devils, the crack German paratroopers, and along with others were sadly all killed. It was an honour to meet him.

We left Dead Mans corner and made our way to St Mere Eglise where the paratrooper came down and was caught on the church steeple. A dummy still hangs there. The town was crawling with DDay activity - US jeeps everywhere, men in US AA military uniform, trucks, marching up and down the street - it was really an electric atmosphere. We couldnt wait for the parade, but headed to Orglandes - a special place. It is a hardly known village on the way to Cherbourg - a military cemetery with more than 20,000 men of ages from 18 that I saw to mid forties. This is one of four 'cimetiere' for German soldiers in the area. I had previously been to the one at La Combe. This was a very sobering moment for us. I stood in the midst of this very sacred place where 6 soldiers shared the one headstone - all brothers, sons, fathers and husbands of german families there through no fault of their own. It was difficult for us to leave.

Cherbourg from here was a huge effort. It was over 100k today, and we never thought we'd get there. The climbs returned, and we ambled into town at about 9pm at night, the last few k frighteningly downhill. We had a great hotel on the waterfront to complete an historic day for us.

Falaise to Torigni (Not St Lo!) - 76k - Tues 5 June

2007-06-14T18:39:00.000+10:00

Hey - I have a lot to catch up on! We are in Launceston (pronounced lawnston) from where Phillip Gidley King came from, (who named launceston, tas.). We have been on the road for nearly two weeks, but internet access is non existent. \went early to the town library today and it was closed for the day! Angus, why didn't Doug even offer to set me up with satellite for the Blackberry!

We had such a hard day this day that we got to villers bocage and rang ahead for a camp site at st lo and becasue there werent any, we diverted to \torigni. \it was in fact a beautiful flat almost downhill run for 20odd k, and \i sat behind \julie all the way at about 30kph. \she was keen to get there! When we stopped outside the caravan park, she promptly did what we call in the trade a 'dead ant' - she fell off from a standing still position. \fortunately she fell to the right (remember we ride on the right here in france) and fell heavily, bruising her 'butt' big time - she still has a bruise about as big as a foot print! Welcome to the world of cycling. It was a big day.

\we actually enjoy the tent. It is most cosy, and we cook and eat very well indeed. All facilities have been quite impressive.

Breteuil to Falaise - 101k - Mon 4 June

2007-06-05T18:24:00.000+10:00

Sorry for racing these - we are in the back room of a very nice fellow who runs a computer store in Falaise who has allowed us to use his computer. We got in to Falaise after another 101k day. not so many strong hills as yesterday. except for the last 30k or so.The country is incredibly beautiful and stunning. We ride through village after village. Managed to buy a camera this morning from a kind of ALDI store. It will do. Faliase is very medievil - the birth place and castle of William the Conqueror - we camped below his magnificent castle 12th century. More later.

We are doing fine and in great spirits. Bikes are good - I busted the seat post bolt at the airport putting it together, so had to ride with my knees hitting my chin until I found a little french man in a village with the right bolt.

To day a short 85k to St Lo - tomorrow is DDay. Julie has just said it is a "7 hills ride" today. She really is doing fine with the bike. More later.

Cergy to Breteuil - 118k - Sun 3 June

2007-06-05T18:18:00.000+10:00

Hey - this was a tough day, and due to not counting the k's on the map in preparation, this was a megga 118k day, but with grit and determination we made camp, set up the tent and had the billy boiling in no time. Tell you more later. Oh, by the way, we had our camera stolen early this morning through the window of our hotel room - Julie saw the hand in through the window. Sad about losing our first photos, but can't do much about it. More later.

Paris to Cergy - 75k Sat 2 June

2007-06-05T18:16:00.000+10:00

Yes we made it - a great day - just need another day or so to fill you in. Julie is a legend on a loaded bike on massive climbs - not fair for day 1!

It took some 2 hours to get our bikes assembled in the Arrivals area, and answer all the questions of curious passers by. It was about 10am when we nervously ventured out front of this very large Terminal, and to try to get our bearings. Asking questions of airport staff didnt seem to give us clarity, so we took off anyway. We each had our Aussie flags proudly displayed off the back of our bikes.

We stopped at a garage to buy water, and then try to make sense of the french guys we were asking directions from. Julie seemed to make more sense of it than me, so we headed off again. We get very easily confused because the place seems to be all ring roads, and being on the 'wrong' side of the road now, everything seems back to front.

I tried to visualise the place from my visit some 7 years earlier, but we were coming out of a different Terminal, and nothing looked familiar. We headed off down this very busy main road that seemed to head into a tunnel for a long distance. It was single lane, and narrow, and after a nod from a passing Policeman to Julie's rapid gesturing, we set sail into the tunnel, me in froint and Julie following. I could hear her calling, but I couldn't make out what she was saying.

Only when we survived the tunnel alive, with trucks and all kinds of vehicles passing ever so closely, and we exited on a minor road to catch brerath, did Julie tell me that I lost my precious Aussie flag in the tunnel. I felt so disappointed, but there was no going back. So Val - I have been flying the Aussie cap you gave me - its almost a flag, and it is the last thing I attach to my rear pack everyday.

The trip to Cergy was so incredibly interesting. It was further thanh we planned, but once we found the village of le Mesnil just outside the airtport, we were immediatley orientated and on track. French villages passed every few k's. It was all very delightful.

Ironically, when putting the bikes together, I broke the bolt that holds my seat post up. So I couldnt fasten the seat, and was forced to ride it with the seat at least 5'' lower than usual. It really did feel like I would hit my chin with my knees. Thanks to a little french mechanic we passed in a small street in a vuillage later in the day, he was so pleased to be able to help with a perfectly fitting bolt. He spoke no english, and I never learned the french word for bolt - but he got the message and was so helpful. We were grateful to God for putting him right where we needed him.

The last few k's went very slowly. We had been travelling for 28hrs or so, and were hanging out for a decent sleep in our Hotel room. Cergy is on the western outskirts of Paris, but we had to ride in a very large semi circle from the north east side of Paris where De Gaulle airport is, to get to the western fringe. The Hotel was just okay, but a pleasant refuge for us after such a long trip.

We made the mistake of opening the single tiny window for air, and went to bed. Julie woke next morning to a hand reaching in through the window, and at her startle dexclamation, the arm disappearede, as did our precious camera! I leapt to the window, but no sign of anybody. I went to the rear door - but it was security locked overnight, and there was no exit for anybody. Goodbye camera. It was a sad beginning to our trip, butr we decided almost instantly that it was gone, and fretting would not get it back.

We set our faces for Breteuill that morning in the hope we could buyt another one.

Moving To the Start.2

2007-06-05T18:12:00.000+10:00

Please be patient - have only today found a computer for public use. The detail is coming. k

Moving to the Start.1

2007-06-01T20:48:00.000+10:00

Its Kelvin and I am in Hong Kong having just arrived at KaiTak - a most beautiful sight from the air as we approached Hong Kong from over the South China Sea. Julie should be in Singapore by now. The most asked question to date is why are we travelling in separate aircraft? Its not because we think that if a plane goes down then one of us will survive. There is no substance to the rumour that Julie is an unpleasant travelling companion. I have a free fair on Qantas, and Julies seat on Singapore Air was the next best price! For all those who are interested, we finally got to bed at 1am last night, after doing all that has to be done to wind up our Salvation Army responsibilities, packed all the bikes in boxes and all the panniers (we have 6) and loaded the backpacks with as much weight as was bearable for the 'carry-on'. We were up again at 5am, and in the car just after 6am.

I was hi-jacked at the office at morning tea yesterday. I went down at the usual time, curious that there seemed to be more than normal for morning tea, and all very promptly on time. When I got relaxed with a cup of tea in my hand, the very sinister Trevor Nicol emerged with a set of electric hair clippers attached to a long extension cord, and then Cheryl Drayton, the resident amateur hair cutter (she cuts her husbands hair and only does one style - all off!). I was co-erced into having a virtual head shave. I chose to submit rather than have to fight my way from the tea room. I knew when I was a beaten man. The cameras emerged, the faces leared with sadistic grins as Cheryl proceeded to shave my head to a close No.2 with the skill of a seasoned shearer. If you know how conservative I am, you would understand how I felt attending my final scheduled noon meeting for the day! I didn't pack a comb. Actually I quite like it now, but it is still a shock whenever I pass a mirror. Cheryl could make a fortune in many a sheaers hut with the clippers, but she insists on being a loyal secretary at our office!

Each of us was about 10kg over the 20kg baggage limit, and we prayed for a lovely check-in person. Anyway, it all went smoothly, and Julie was also able to check through the tent as well (they didn't seem to bother about our 'excess'). We were in, breathing a whole lot easier. We had a nice breakfast together before the final goodbye and "Hope to see you in Paris" as we went our respective ways. Julie comes into Terminal 3, and I discovered I come into a completely different Terminal a bus ride away. It was only as we parted that I realised Julie had the bike tools on her plane, so I would have to carry the bike somehow to meet her on her arrival. I'll work on it when I get there!

So I now have 3 hours to kill before my Cathay Pacific 12 hrs to Paris. The weather is now 'sunny' in Paris for tomorrow, so all looks good.

For those who haven't come in to Hong Kong, it is one of the engineering marvels of the world.

Until next internet cafe (oh, by the way - its free here at KaiTak!) its 'bye' for now. Thanks for the prayers from back home. K

Townsville to Gold Coast Capricorn Classic - Oct 2004

2007-05-07T11:50:00.000+10:00

The plan was to cover the 2,000k from Townsville to my home at the gold Coast in twelve days of riding. This involved initially going inland to Charter's Towers, then turning south for several hundred kilometre's before heading east again to link up with the South Burnett Highway that
would take me to the deep south of Queensland, then into New South Wales to Kyogle and home through the tough hill country of the Border Ranges, thus just making the 2000k. Still with my trusty old Apollo hybrid, I landed in Townsville and stayed the night with John Stewart (Julie's brother) and his family, and headed west early next morning. I underestimated the heat! The 140k to Charter's Towers would not normally have fazed me, but after 60k I was struggling. It was very hot; I had to battle the Mingela Range and found myself suffering by 90k. I had to stop and lie down at a Roadhouse
in the shade before struggling on to Charter's Towers. The land was parched, being in the dry season anyway but also in the grip of drought. This is the once beautiful Burdekin River, now just a few puddles at the bottom. It was a great relief to finally get in to town and have a nice shower. It was very hot, but took time to enjoy a stroll through this beautifully cared for country town steeped in history. I decided that due to the oppressive heat, I had to be on the road every day at or before dawn, so no more sleeping in! It was 400k to the next town, but I was headed for a Roadhouse at belyando Crossing, a long 205k on a bike in this
burning caldron called the outback. Loaded with massive bottles of water that looked like turbo boosters strapped to my bike, I headed off into the rising dawn next day. It was a huge day, desperately hot, dozens of road trains, virtually no shade trees, but I made it in, screaming out the k count over the last ten kilometres! The following day was a repeat performance, with no life but a few brahman bulls to talk to, until I finally made the other 200k into Clermont, where the pub owner refused me to pay for my accommodation and steak dinner. Some people are just so good! There would be no repeat of these high miles and punishing conditions for the remiander of the trip. From Clermont I went further south to the mining town of Emerald where I was glad to be inside, out of the harsh heat and hot wind. The bike had several broken spokes, and a severely buckled wheel, which the bike shop said was 'shot'. I nursed it home though. Still leaving before dawn, I got away from Emerald in the dark, now turning east into a blinding sunrise, praying that cars coming from behind me weren't as blinded by the sun as I was! It was 160k to the truck stop at Duraringa, via Blackwater where I was passed by the longest train loaded with coal in my lifetime! I typically stopped for coffee and toast at stores like this, this one at Dululu on the way toBiloela. Since Duaringa I was facing a new phenomenon on this trip called hills! I was now on and off the Great Dividing Range, and looked forward to the next thousand kilometres of this until home. I was now on the South Burnett Highway, the landscape had changed from dry arid desert and mining country to lush farmlands of orchards and vast paddocks filled with stock. It was good to see 'green' again, and to see water in dams. I passed a most distressing sight - a large kangaroo was lying on his back in a ditch on the side of the road. He had been hit by a truck, but was not dead. He was slowly dying. It distressed me to have to leave him. Some will wonder why I couldn't have terminated his ebbing life, but the only means available to me were too primitive and barbaric. From Biloela (160k) I went to Monto, but over the toughest climbing I think I
have ever done (the Coominglah Range), where I chanced to meet Jenny Babbibgton, a girl I hadn't seen or heard from since school days. We had our photo taken for the local paper. On seriously screaming knees and lacerated backside, I ambled away from Monto at dawn for Gayndah (150k), then the peanut capital of Queensland at Kingaroy. I thought you might like to see the view I get from the bike all day long. I cautiously passed these beef cattle which were straying on the road. Nice cow, nice cow I kept saying as I passed. I was also excelling as a self photographer, here taking a brief rest
under a most beautiful Queensland Fig. I left Gayndah before
dawn, and soon was greeted by the blinding dawn. I love the morning coffee stops - this one at Ban Ban Springs. The shop owners stare in amazement when I tell them I have covered a thousand k's, and only another thousand to go! I eventually left the Burnett for the Bunya Highway at Murgon, the home of many of our great Rugby League players of indigenous heritage, and was closing in on Kingaroy. This was now pig country, evidenced by the smell and the incessant squealing of pigs kept in crammed and
terrible conditions in piggeries. We enjoy the bacon, but we should
do something about the way these pigs are reared for our dinner
tables. Numerous trucks passed laden with squealing pigs packed in like sardines. The smell was overpowering. Several massive climbs greeted me on the long approach before Kingaroy, making me work for my supper that night, until finally I crested Redhill, aptly named to reflect the soil so distinctive to this peanut dominated economy, giving glorious views of the fields of red soil and peanut crops. Another 150k day, but my knees have
improved, and my undercarriage was now doing a lot better, thanks to ample amounts of paw paw cream since Emerald. Next day I faced the Bunya Range, heading west again to Dalby, passing through the beautiful village of Kumbria before facing the range. A new phenomenon today as I left at dawn - goosebumps on my bare arms. I had forgotten what cold felt like. I had to get used to it rather quickly! I hit the range, but the legs were so good now I cruised up until seeing the sign 'Porter Pass', surprised that it was all over without a fight. The road then descended onto the start of the Darling Downs, and I don't think I pedalled at all for the next 8k! After the little township of Bell, it was table flat for the final 47k to Dalby, the final 17k being dead flat and straight, with vast views to the horizon across ploughed and fallow fields. Give me hills anyday! I stayed at Mary Berry's pub. Mary is 85 yrs old at least, and one of those enduring Aussie characters. I dined with her at night. I left Dalby just after 5:30am on the road to Toowoomba, then to Warwick for the evening. The road out of Dalby was shocking, but with a slight tale wind and strong legs, the bike broke all trip records and I cruised into Toowoomba in very impressive time. Turning then to Warwick, I was into that same wind which now felt like a gale, and it was the most miserable leg of the entire trip. I struggled and suffered, even losing my vision at one point in a massive dust storm that left red dirt in my ears until shower time, after a massive 173k day! Next morning was my last day on Queensland soil. I was up and on the bike at 5:45am, and for the next hour cycled in near freezing conditions, in stark contrast to earlier days where I was suffering sunstroke!

My frozen misery lasted until Killarney, one of Australia's most beautiful country towns near the New South Wales border, nestled at the end of a glorious valley and surrounded on east and south by the majesty of the Border Ranges National park. This photo was taken on departure, looking back over the valley to the east. The road then toughened up and climbed through the Border Range until Woodenbong, having crossed into New South Wales on the dirt road mountain section. From Woodenbong, the road went straight up for the next 5k, which is hard on the legs after 90k,
from where it was another 60k gently down to Kyogle, where I would spend my final night in an Aussie pub. The final day arrived, and I headed away from Kyogle on the Murwillumbah road. I had a date with Julie and our daughter Kathryn at 10am for coffee at Murwillumbah. Then the fun started. These were the mountains at the rear of Mt Warning. I climbed, and climbed and climbed for over 30k. The hills were so steep that I was concerned that the chain would snap, at times having to 'zig-zag' to take the strain off the chain. These were the mother of all hills, certainly my 'hillus
horribillus' on this trip. I passed through the villages of Wadeville, Kunghur and then Uki, with Mt Warning standing guard over me at all times. Murwillumbah was a most welcome sight, as were Julie and Kathryn and the Cafe Late! The final run home via Tweed Heads passed all too smoothly, and I made one more stop at Kirra Beach for the final photo, before joining the very roads that I had done hundreds and hundreds of miles in training for this and all my other cycling journeys. The bike knew the way home!

Our Mallee (Vic) Cycle classic - Sept 2003

2007-05-07T11:44:00.000+10:00

We headed for St Arnaud in central Victoria, Australia to begin a two week adventure to circumnavigate the 'Mallee' district, basically the north western sector of Victoria. We stayed overnight at the Commonwealth Hotel, a decision we regretted. The owner basically had a thing about customers. His customer relations were very poor! We survived, and woke to a rainy and cold Victorian day, with a wind that was fine if it was behind you! The countryside was however beautiful, with flat fields of canola and also vast sheep pastures. It is technically Northern Grampians country. We headed to Charlton to the north east, with the strong wind pushing us along. You can see from the photo how strong the wind was blowing - note the handkerchief in my hand! Cruising past one of the many sheep paddocks, we noticed the entire flock looked distressed, gathering in one spot. On closer inspection, I saw that a big old fat ram was on his back and couldn't get enough traction to get up on his feet. The things that cyclists do! I entered the paddock, heaved him up (he weighed a ton!) and the entire flock were once again relieved. Charlton is a very small town, with beautiful old buildings, very wide streets and divided by a river. The old pub we had pre-booked was adamant they not only didn't take our booking, they weren't licensed anymore for guests! The old Aussie pubs have dozens of rooms, but many we found to be fire traps. We found a much more expensive room at the 'Vale of Avoca', a lovely B&B in a former pub, but now a 'Not a Pub'! It was luxury - the breakfast was excellent. We then headed for Pyramid Hill, an even smaller town, some 90k further north and east. The land was flat except for a hill that resembled one of the Egyptian pyramids! A town of 500 people, it was built on a railway crossing. We stayed at the pub, where the owners had gone to great trouble just for us. When the owner found out we were Salvationists, he insisted we use his family lounge room, saying the bar was far too 'rough' for Julie to spend the evening! They were lovely to us.

Next day we headed for Cahuna, then Barham for the night, finally crossing the great Murray River and actually into New South Wales but just for the night. Next day we crossed back into Victoria, and turned to follow the Murray River toward Swan Hill. The land is very flat, being river country. The farms are wonderfully irrigated by an intricate system of water courses reminiscent of Holland. We didn't like it, but decided to take a 'short cut' via dirt country roads in order to cut down some miles. The day looked nice, but the wind never left us until the ride was over. Today was into the wind all day long! The photo is just north of Benjeroop, a small rural community along the Murray River. Julie's first experience of draughting today, the wind was so strong. It helped a bit. We struggled all day into the wind, eventually coming into Lake Bogo, a Catalina Base for the RAAF during WW2. It was the longest 20k then into Swan Hill, a beautiful and famous river town known for its River boats. It was a welcome Motel that night, and a rest day that followed - we explored the shops, the river and the beautiful historic river paddle steamers. We then headed for the famous northern Victorian town of Manangatang. I had to slow Julie down today! The landscape suddenly changed, looking more like the red centre. It was dry, red soil with scrub replacing the beautiful canola fields. We passed through Chillingollan and lunched at Chinkapook, two non famous Victorian towns, but enchanting nevertheless. It was great to eventually arrive at Manangatang, another small town built on a railway and crossroads on the way to South Australia. A friendly kangaroo chose to bound the final few kilometres with us on the road toward town! The few hundred residents were celebrating, having won their local footy Grand Final. The weather was cold, but for non-drinkers, we found the pub hospitality always warm, the food outstanding for hungry cyclists. Next day we headed
south to Sea Lake (miles away from the sea, possibly mis-named). The weather by now was really cold and miserable, we were glad to arrive and get in out of the cold. Sea Lake was also steeped in history, with lovely old buildings and a pub that again hosted us with warm hospitality. We woke next day to an even more miserably cold day. The wind never blew from the same direction for two days running! after all, this is Victoria! We headed further south to the reasonably sized town of Hopetoun, and then next day on to Warracknabeal, where Julie's Dad lived as a boy. It is always great to see the wheat silos on the distant approach to these distant Victorian towns - they stand like silent sentinels and serve as an indication that the town is not that far away. We really liked Warracknabeal, and chose to stay an extra day to explore and enjoy the community. It is a town full of beautiful old Aussie homes. This was as far west as we were going, and next morning we headed east for Donald, another lovely locality. We were now back in lovely farming country, well irrigated again by the quaint system of canals, with lovely fields of canola (literally acres of beautiful yellow flowers) sheep, and grain. Today we saw a bull, our first for the journey, and took the photo of this one and only 'Mallee Bull'! The final day arrived, and we headed off in the direction of St Arnaud to complete our 750k circumnavigation of the Mallee. We didn't return to our cranky Publican, but instead were wonderfully looked after by Daryl Talty, owner of the Botanical Hotel, who was also graciousness enough to look after our car for the previous two weeks (quite a contrast!). This was a great experience, and just a warmup compared to the great adventure planned for 2007.

Melbourne to Gold Coast Ride - September 2002

2007-05-06T17:54:00.000+10:00

While Julie (my wife) was away overseas for three weeks in September 2002, I decided to fly to Melbourne with my bike and ride home again to the Gold Coast. It was a massive undertaking - some 2200k with a 19 day plan, including 2 days rest in Canberra while visiting my mother. I decided to train for this one. So for 6 weeks prior, I put in some 300k's each week, including a 100k ride for each of those weeks. I landed in Melbourne, and as with most plans like this, I had to ride irrespective of the weather conditions. It just happened to be a day with 90k overnight winds that unroofed many Melbourne houses, with torrential rain to welcome me. I had to ride anyway. I headed in to Melbourne, then to Koo Wee Rup for the night. I was drenched and muddied, but in bright spirits. The Motel owner said I was 'mad'. Next day was a huge leg to Port Albert (170k), the south eastern tip of Victoria, and stayed at the local Hotel - see photo. I don't drink, but had a 90k 'draught' pushing me all day long! Glad to get in.

Next day I headed for Paynesville - another 170k day. The weather was 'wicked', and despite gear problems, I made it by days end despite being literally blown off the road into the rough on the approach to Paynesville. Then came my biggest day - the climbs started - the Alpine Way which went to Bruthen, then back to the Pacific Highway to CannRiver over some very steep climbing. The 180k was the longest for the trip, and I crawled into the Cann River Hotel after dark, glad to see the lights of Cann River.

I then turned up the Monaro Highway, which was a beautiful ride but always with solid climbing, being on the Snowy Range now. My gear cluster had fallen apart, and with a flat tyre to boot, it meant I was out after dark for 2 hours while pressing on ever upward with grit and determination for the little Alpine village of Nimitabel. Being on the road at night is unnerving, especially when a big roo bounds across your path in the darkness.

After some great country town hospitality, I headed to Cooma the next day. I had a tube protubing through a burst tyre and no spare until Cooma. I hadn't gone far before I came on the sign that said I was on top of the Great Diviiding Range, and could see the snow on the Kosciusko range in the background. I made it to Cooma, then to Canberra for a rest, and then headed to Sydney and took the infamous Puttey Road (everyone said I was again, 'mad' - the Puttey Road is famous for car accidents). The photo is

my first attempt at 'self photography' while on top of the climb out of Colo just north of the Hawkesbury.

I actually fell in love with the Puttey Road. It is 200k of remote wilderness, but some really lovely landscape (a pity that people use it as a rubbish tip!). I stayed at a farm B&B, then headed for Bulga where my dad was born, then turned up the Hunter Valley and over the Liverpool Range. I cruised through Quirindi to Tamworth, and then up and over the 'mother' of all hill climbs on a bike - the "Moonbi Range" - 8k of incessant climbing where the semi's pass you at about 3k faster than the 8kph that you are doing. I talked to many drivers, but refused the offer of a 'tow'! I tucked in at Bendemeer on top of the range (or so I thought), one of the lovliest little towns in NSW, cut off by the highway.

The climbing continued next day to Armidale, where I thought it was all down hill to Grafton. I was rudely disappointed. On the way to Ebor the following day, I thought it would all be a downhill coast. It was the opposite. Ebor is higher than Armidale, a lovely spot made famous by the falls. I met the Bike for Bibles group here who were most impressed I could climb 'Moonbi' in my tight cluster with saddle bags and back pack (I didn't tell them about the granny gear!).

There are always quaint sights along the way. Here is an example of the ingenuity of country people who feel it is a waste of money to buy a normal mailbox!

The road from Ebor was finally downhill (mostly). There was a 7k section of dirt that involved numerous hairpin turns. It was too late for me to see it - the first turn I didn't realise it was all deep 'bulldust' (powdery dust) and I lost control of the bike. I ended up in the bulldust, and couldn't get it off me or the bike until the shower that night. The photo tells the story. I couldn't resist the photo of the sign.

The timber trucks coming off the mountain on the Grafton approach are motorised killers. Twice I had to dive off the road into the rough, otherwise the galloping timber trucks would have taken me out. It was a pleasure the next morning on the Casino road after Grafton, I saw one of the returning timber trucks (now empty of timber) pulled over and being booked by the Grafton police. I resisted saying anything. Justice was indeed served.

We live in a great country. I love bike travel. It is the only form of transport where the 'engine' gets fitter and more efficient the more
miles it does. Sadly, too many of 'my fellow Australians' use our
country as a garbage tip. Most of the 2200k I travelled was lined with the rubbish that is thrown from cars. I do not exaggerate.

Sadly also, the roads are strewn with dead wildlife, especially our kangaroos.

The road from Grafton to Casino was hot and into a hot wind all the way. Casino came into view eventually - the 'Beef Capital of Australia'. I thought I had lost a lot of beef along the way from Melbourne - actually about 6kg by the time I got home.

From Casino it was 135k home to the Gold Coast. I had battled the mud of Moonee Ponds, the best the Great Dividing Range could dish out; I even managed to dodge killer timber trucks at Nimboida - but crossing the Sundale bridge into Southport where I lived, I was all but taken out by a tourist bus! It makes me sound weird, but as I approached our street, after 2200k of tough cycling, I had tears in my eyes that the great adventure was all but over. A crowd would have been great to welcome me home into my street, but as I turned into the street I was taken by how deserted it was. I bumped the bike into the driveway as I did on any normal ride, and sat on the lawn all alone, amazed that the dream had been realised. Then I heard "Dad's home". My daughter Kathryn was inside, and rushed outside to give me all the welcome I needed. I was indeed 'home'.

My Blog Advisor

2007-05-06T12:27:00.000+10:00

I want to give a big plug for my Blog advisor. He is 15 year old Anthony Eden of Winston Hills. Anthony is one of those young guys who was born for cyberspace. He has helped me set this Blog site up, a first experience for me. Anthony has already accepted a small contract with a local Radio station to prepare and manage the radio station website. If you need him, he is clever and will do your web work for a very reasonable fee. He is worth more. Check out his personal website - www.way2web.net

Our Touring Bikes

2007-05-05T16:18:00.000+10:00

The Bikes - my bike is evidence that you don't have have to spend a fortune to get a reasonable touring bike. I purchased mine second hand about 7 years ago from a Scandinavian trekker. He sold me the bike, the rear panniers, helmet, tools and pump for a mere $300. It is an Apollo Hybrid, and over the past 7 years has done meritorious service for me from Paris to London, Melbourne to Gold Coast, Townsville to Gold Coast, a circumnavigation of the Mallee in Victoria, plus hundreds of kilometres over various smaller trips.
There is nothing special or expensive about the bike, except it has been faithful and it works. It has needed a number of routine repairs and replacement parts, but that is normal wear and tear. I have always travelled with aero bars on as well, but for the sake of weight I will be leaving them at home this time. The aero bars just add one more option for hand position. It is a standard steel frame, a good 'granny' on the front and a 7 speed cluster on the rear. I have put a narrow racing seat on this time because I found I get massive carnage to the backside on the tourer, but never on my racing bike. The seat is now similar to the racing bike. I am equipped this time with both front and rear panniers - I have never toured with front panniers before, so this will be a new experience for me. The bike has handlegrip shifters, and bar ends for more hand options.

Julie's bike is brand new for this trip. It is a 'SUB' - a Sarah Ullman Brand (a female Kiwi Olympic cyclist) especially designed to fit the finer forms of the female frame. It is manufactured by Avanti. I saw it first in the Australian Cyclist magazine, and then asked my local bike shop to get it in for me. Julie fell in love with it. Julie is not a regular road cyclist, but is nevertheless a very fit bike rider, especially in view of her relatively limited miles on the road. For a bike that cost a smiggen over $1000, it is superbly equipped with relatively high quality equipment. It is designed for touring, so all the lugs are in the right places. Julie will carry her fair share of the load, but will only have rear panniers (which are slightly larger than mine, she keeps reminding me! Both bikes are equipped with 700c wheels and 25c tubes so that we don't have to carry double the spares.

We each carry backpacks, but lay them down on the rear panniers, on the principal that weight should be carried as low as possible. It is certainly not wise to wear back packs while cycle touring. However, this time we will be also carrying a tent which will also sit on the back. We have yet to work out how all this will carry.

My Paris to London Journey Jan 2000

2007-05-05T15:34:00.000+10:00

My interest in cycle touring began in January 2000 when, instead of flying all the way to London for business, I decided to take my old bike on the plane and ride from Paris across Normandy into southern England and then up into London. The timing wasn't the greatest - it was winter, but it made for some very challenging circumstances.

This is my photo as I was leaving Charles de Gaulle airport on the first day. It was dark and cold, but I was very optimistic. My aim was to head across Normandy for the beautiful Omaha cemetery on the DDay landing beaches which was featured in the movie 'Saving Private Ryan'.

Incredibly, France had just been flattened by the biggest storm in over 100 years, so all the rivers were flooded, included the beautiful Seine, which I basically followed on and off most of the way. This photo is one of the many villages along the way, the river being a tributary to the Seine.

The days were short because of the season, and extremely cold. I really had to keep riding to stay warm. My first day was a shock because I couldn't find accommodation. It was raining. I was freezing and wet, and had to keep riding into the night in order to get to a village with a Hotel. I was bordering on hypothermia on arrival, but a warm shower made all the difference.

Having tracked across country to Rouen, where Joan of Arc was burned at the stake, I made it to the English Channel, and crossed Pegasus Bridge, the first bridge taken by the British paratoopers in the early hours of DDay. I rode on to Arromanches for the night, where the British had created a floating harbour to unload their millions of tons of equipment to support the DDay landings. The next day I was very excited because I would finally reach Omaha Cemetery. It was a very moving experience to finally ride into the 170 acres of beautifully maintained cemetery where over 8,000 American lives are honoured.

I moved on to the village of Bayeux, famous for the Bayeux Tapestry depicting the Norman invasion of England by William the Conqueror. I visted the British War cemetery, where there were 17 Aussies buried amongst the 4,000 British graves. I only found two. This photo is of FJ Knight, shot down on DDay. The head stone was marked "Our only son". I knelt on the
wet ground, tears in my eyes, as I pushed my little Aussie flag into

the soil, the flag that I had brought all the way from Australia, and flown from the back of my bike. It was still there many months later when I made a return visit. FJ Knight was only 21 years of age.

I crossed the Channel by ferry, landing at Portsmouth where I traced the history of Lord Nelson. It was then on to Winchester for the Cathedral, then a 2 day trek in the intense cold toward Seven Oaks before the final climb into London.

At Oxted I met these three 'old' characters out on their bikes. They invited me to the pub for lunch. They failed to 'shout' but we had a great time, before I left for London. I had to be there by nightfall. The final big surprise was Biggin Hill, the southern entry to London. Several kilometres long, it was a very tough climb after 2 weeks. Biggin Hill was the famous WW2 RAAF airfield where many Spitfires would have taken off and landed during the Battle of Britain. I made it to my destination - the International College for Salvation Army Officers. In its fifty year history, I am the only delegate in the world to ever arrive by bike!!

Itinerary - Paris to Scotland June/July 2007

2007-05-04T20:30:00.000+10:00

Itinerary - it has been fun preparing the itinerary. We worked on about 80k days, depending on locations of camping grounds. The net was a great source of useful information. The days are long. We are not in a hurry, and if anything goes wrong there is always the train! We want to do this though, and claim the T Shirt at the end! This will be the longest 'Land's End to John O'Groats' in the history of cycling!

By the way, this is Jack our fantastic grandson, and our precious daughter Kathryn.

ITINERARY - Cycling Paris to Stirling, Scotland
2 June Paris to Cergy Pontoise 60k Literally from the airport
3 June Cergy Pontoise to Breteuil 95k This is now DDay WW2 country
4 June Breteuill to Falaise 95k Birthplace - William the Conqueror
5 June Falaise to St Lo 84k As above
6 June St Lo to Cherbourg 80k This is DDay! (via St Mere Eglise)
7 June Cherbourg to Poole/Weymouth 50k Cross Atlantic by Ferry
8 June Weymouth to Kennford/Exeter 90k Dorset
9 June Kennford to Launceston 80k Devon - Dartmoor Forests
10 June Launceston to St Austell 82k Cornwall
11 June St Austell to St Just 90k Touch the Atlantic/Irish Sea
12 June St Just/Lands End to Newquay 90k Finally Land's End - Photo!
13 June Newquay to Bude 100k Tough but beautiful coastline
14 June Bude to Lynton/Lynmouth 90k British Cycle Museum
15 June Lynton/Lynmouth to Glastonbury 100k Very Steep Hills!!
16 June Glastonbury to Bath 42k Home of Sir Arthur Philip
17 June Bath Rest Day Burial - King Arthur/Genevieve
18 June Bath to Charlbury 105k Julie's Birthday tomorrow!
19 June Charlbury to Olney 75k John Newton (Amazing Grace)
20 June Olney (via Cambridge) to Ely 115k Home of Oliver Cromwell
21 June Ely to Kings Lynn 75k
22 June Kings Lynn to Lincoln 100k via Boston
23 June Lincoln to Scunthorpe 80k
24 June Scunthorpe to York 90k
25 June York Rest Day
26 June York to Great Broughton 105k
27 June Great Broughton to Durham 65k Kelvin's Ancestral Home
28 June Durham to Bellingham 90k Finally Hadrian's Wall
29 June Bellingham to Melrose 90k Bonny Wee Scotland - at last!!
30 June Melrose to Edinburgh 80k
01 July Edinburgh Rest Day
02 July Edinburgh Rest Day
03 July Edinburgh to St Andrews 105k
04 July St Andrews Rest Day
05 July St Andrews to Brechin 70k 32nd Wedding Anniversary!
06 July Montrose to Inverurie 90k 14th Century Castle Accomm!
07 July Inverurie to Buckie 80k
08 July Buckie to Croy/Inverness 70k Culloden Battlefield.
09 July Croy(via Inverness) to Evanton 80k
10 July Evanton to Lairg 80k
11 July Lairg to Bettyhill 80k
12 July Bettyhill to John O'Groats 80k THE Photo and a T Shirt!!
13 july John O'Groats to Helmsdale 90k
14 July Helmsdale to Evanton 80k
15 July Evanton to Fort Augustus 80k All the way along Loch Ness
16 July Fort Augustus to Fort William 45k
17 July Fort William to Resipole 80k
18 July Resipole to Kilchoan 35k Julie's Ancestry home!
19 July Kilchoan to Glencoe 80k
20 July Glencoe to Crianlarich 64k
21 July Crianlarich to Stirling 84k Final Cycling Day!
22 July Stirling Rest Day
23 July Stirling to Barnsley Hire Car - stay with friends
24 July Barnsley to Heathrow Final Night
25 July Heathrow En Route Sydney
26 July En Route Sydney
27 July Land Sydney 7am
28 July Home
29 July Home
30 July Hit the Office!! Conference at Wollongong

Welcome - About Us - About the Big Adventure

2007-05-01T21:45:00.000+10:00

Welcome - to my new blogsite. My wife (Julie) and I are cycling from Paris to Scotland from 1 June 2007, and we want you to be able to keep up with us as we journey. Hopefully, you will be able to drop your own messages of encouragement. The journey covers about 60 days, and will complete a journey of some 3,500k's. We leave Charles De Gaulle airport on Saturday 2 June 2007, and hope to arrive in Stirling Scotland on Saturday 21 July 2007, having also completed the "Lands End to John O'Groats" the long way.

This is a great adventure for us, and we trust you can enjoy something of the challenge with us. We have planned this for quite some time. It is not a charity ride - simply a well deserved holiday together, and I hope to make enough notes along the way to see if there is a book in it in the end.

Hop on board, and you'll cover the ground with us. I'll do my best to describe what we see, and articultae our experiences so it makes you feel like you are actually doing it with us.

With kind regards.......kelvin