Monday, July 9, 2007
Elgin to Croy - 50k - Sun 8 July
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
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
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.
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
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
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
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.
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.
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