Kilchoan to Glencoe - 86k - Thurs 19 July

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.