Ride day 4: to Scourie

So much to share today, and not just whining about the damn hills!

I’ll start with last night. It was 9ish and I was just about to climb in my tent to do some planning while being horizontal. I pitched in a pretty empty spot near the kids park, which was a little pathetic so I figured there’d be no kids using it. However, there were the unmistakeable sounds of teenaged girls coming from it. I have no issue with teenagers, they’re great from a distance. But 3 giggly, over dramatic girls don’t pair well with sleep. So I thought oh shit. And then I heard ‘what’s your name’?

So they wanted to talk, the three of them. Where are you from, what do you think of this place, the Indian food is good but I work there, like, 7 days a week practically as a slave, why are you here. Unsurprisingly, they don’t like their town. I conceded it’s probably tough growing up in a very small place pretty far away from any bigger places.

When they realized I was on a bike and where I rode it from and plan to make it to, they suggested that I blog about it. I said I do and told them where to find this site. Seconds later, one of them started listing the rides I’ve done. She asked how old I am. 53. Groans and squeals like I’m ancient or something. Then they told me how, in gym class, they sometimes have to run around a soccer pitch for 12 minutes. Apparently, everyone totally collapses during it. I shared my dislike of running and suggested biking is more fun.

They assured me that they’d follow my blog (not me on a bike!). Because, I suppose, this is how things are for young people. If you aren’t doing anything you think is interesting or cool, you follow people who are. This makes you vicariously part of something, but also mostly depressed. What a drag.

After I zipped up the tent they left.

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I let myself sleep in until 7 this morning because I had to visit a bike shop for a bolt. A bolt holding my rack on had rattled out and the replacement I had on was shorter than it should be. Other bike issues I’ve had so far is the belt falling off (that isn’t supposed to happen) and snapping the stays off my front fender (but it still works). Pretty minor stuff.

The bike repair guy suggested an alternate route for my day today before he charged me a *tenner* ($20!) for a single bolt. Fortunately, his advice was so spectacular I almost forgive the gouging.

Turned left off the highway about 5 km out of town onto a *single track*. This is a paved, single lane road. By single lane, I mean one to be shared by all road users: motorists, stupid people on bikes, sheep, etc. There are little blips randomly on the sides of the road called *passing places* where one side or the other gets out of the way of oncoming traffic. I spent 95% of the day on roads like this.

The views were breathtaking.

And so were the hills.

According to Strava, this was the 3rd most elevation gain in a single ride I’ve done since I started tracking my rides with it 5 years ago. I assure you, it is the ride with the most hills I’ve ever done. Probably at least twice the craziest day in Vermont.

It was totally relentless. I’d go from 40 kph at the bottom of one hill right back to 4 kph in 10 seconds, and I’d stay at 4 kph for 15 to 30 minutes. Over and over and over again. I nearly lost my mind.

Drivers laughed, shook their heads in sympathy, someone even stopped their Audi to fucking film me like I was an attraction. Oh, it was nuts. But worth it so I can share these photos with you and possibly 3 young woman dreaming to get out of Scourie ;).

Here’s how you fuel such a day. In Scotland.

This is the furthest north I’ll be on this trip. Tomorrow early I turn south back towards Glasgow. Probably going to change my initial route a little, but not totally sure how yet.

Night night.