“Oh Jean” Hebridean Way 2022 Day 3 - Castlebay - Admhor ferry - Eriskay - South Uist - Benbecula - North Uist - Pailble

 

Day stats : 65.2 miles (some cycling yeah!) 5 islands, 1 ferry, 4 causeways, and finally a bit of rain…

After the usual snoring and fart interrupted sleep in the lovely twin rooms at the B&B we were down at 8am for breakfast having chosen the night before. No kippers on the menu, but some lovely local smoked haddock and eggs a big bowl of muesli and it was time to say goodbye to Linda and Tigh-na-Mara B&B which was brilliant and thoroughly recommended! As has been the case so far, I’ve come down for breakfast ready for the day ahead, the other 3 not so much! As they went back upstairs to get changed and packed, I got the clown bike out of the container and managed to have 20 minutes to my self to do what Dec should have done before he set off! With the Brompton fully lubed and adjusted apart from the clanging noise which was a missing grommet from his mudguard (good, I can hear him coming!) still no sign from the B&B so I went for a quick spin up the hill for a few photos and finally everyone was out and ready. 

We only had 10 miles to the ferry which left at 11.10 it was 9.15 what could go wrong? It turned out, nothing! Big hill out of Castlebay and the phoney war with KC started early! Now he had the panniers on it was a bit of a different story than last night and heart pounding I piped him on the line, only for him to come steaming past on the next one 2 minutes later, honours even for now! The rest of the lovely ride to Admhor ferry passed in a blur, stopping about 15 times to take photos of amazing beaches and we were there. At 10.10 a whole hour before! Well get to the foot of my stairs! As we parked the bikes up (there were lots of bikes!) we noticed a load of old batteries at the side of the building. Having at first wondered if Conleth had been here before and left some of the contents of his famous red bag behind, we then suggested that Dec might to upgrade the circus bike in order to keep up…

Coffee and Tunnocks from the terminal and it was onto a packed ferry for the 40 minutes to Eriskay, with only “evacuation procedure” based humour to keep us amused (ask Dec or Frankie if you really want to know!) Barra done! Arriving at the other side, it was bike touring rush hour as everyone wheeled down the ramp and onto the biggest climb of the day up and out of the harbour. Starting after most of the others after taking some photos, I reeled them all in one by one. To be fair most had panniers front and back, tents, kitchen sink etc, but competition is competition! With just Frankie and KC to go, the road ramped up to 15% round a tight right handed and I was past and through to take the points…and a video of the others struggling up the climb, until they went past, round the corner and up the final bit of the climb that I’d missed! The next 5 miles passed with bickering about when the top of a climb is the top of a climb as there was a slight downhill before the other bit so I had in fact won. Apparently not according to the others. But then, my argument was if you dismiss downhills then you’d only have one race up to the highest point of the tour…as I am a democrat at heart, the 3-1 verdict that Kieran won carried and I mumbled on until just 5 miles out of the ferry a cafe came into view with a beautiful view and even though we’d cycled just 14 miles and already had breakfast, a coffee stop, cake and Tunnocks, it was time for lunch! With all the cyclists we passed on the hill steadily streaming past us and giving us a wave, we tucked into various sandwiches, toasties, panini’s and soup, reality dawned that we did have another 50 miles to go and it was already 1.30! 

A few minutes later we were crossing the majestic causeway from Eriskay to South Uist, stopping to take photos of the large traffic sign warning of otters crossing and it was back out on the single track roads and time for a train to get going. With Frankie the rouleur on the front, the heat was on and we were ticking along at around 20 mph for a good 5 miles, KC taking over and pushing it even faster as we all tucked in behind to get out of the increasing wind. When I mean all…Brompton’s can do just about 20 mph on the flat with their gearing, but they can’t do it when it goes uphill even a little bit, and looking behind, Dec was no where to be seen. Pulling over to let him catch up, he admitted that he’d overestimated how hard it was going to be on the Brompton and that he’d brought the wrong bike and he was having a terrible day. It’s unlike Dec to suffer from Hubris (!) so as you can imagine sympathy was in short supply, but the train dropped the speed to one he could cope with!

Another destination recommended by Jo was next, the Kildonan museum, fresh with longboat out the front and we pulled the train in to have a look. Dec with 1) little interest in anything that has ever happened in “the North” and 2) thinking he may need some extra time to get to the destination tonight, decided to give it a miss and carry on, the 3 off us paid our £3 each and said 10 mins tops. 50 minutes later we had to pull ourselves away from a brilliant little museum with some huge parallels with both Kieran’s family and Dec and Frankie’s back in Ireland. We’d been commenting all day on how alike the landscape was to the Ireland end to end cycle trip and the social history all tied in as well. There was a really strong message that “the good old days” weren’t good at all and poverty and leadership with only self interest is, in fact, shit. I’d say it’s a parable for the times we are living in now if I was a political man… it is. Don’t vote Tory.

With something purchased from the gift shop it was back out to hunt Dec down like a dog. Unbeknown to us, the Hebridean Way didn’t follow the straightest route to Paible, where we are staying tonight, but took us off on a 10 mile detour round the coast. Dec worked it out when he reached the turn. He could knock 10 miles off and no one would ever know as the detour joined the main road further down. Moral dilemma for Dec. He told us later he’d spent 10 minutes wrestling with his conscious! I’d like to say he made the right choice because it was the right thing to do, but it was because if he had a mechanical and not been on the route we were taking he was screwed…and I’m still checking his Strava data later to make sure he’s not bluffing…

As soon as we left the museum the sky looked ominous and we saw our first rain of the trip. Stopping to don waterproofs, we reached aforementioned turning which seemed to be taking us away from the rain and sure enough, 5 miles later, we were stopping to take them off because the pace that Frankie was setting was making us overheat! With Frankie once again on the front I stopped to take a photo of the retreating black sky and it took 3 miles full gas effort to get back on! Not much chatting now as we needed to get the miles in and as we rode over the South Uist causeway to get onto Benbecula, who was that mirage of a figure on the horizon clanking his way over the causeway? We’d caught him! With a co-op appearing up ahead I wanted to catch him before he might stop, so full sprint to bomb past him to the Co-Op! with us all pulling to a halt a pit stop was made leaving 20 miles or so to tonight accommodation and it was 4.45. We reckoned 6.30 was a reasonable estimate, but we’d keep the cocking about to a minimum to make sure we looked after Dec, and we mainly managed it apart from a climb with me and Dec miles behind Frankie and Kieran where he trash talked me all the way up as he knew I was struggling a bit! I beat him obviously, as he decide to “ease off” near the top…

The road was tough though. As busy as we’d seen so far and all single track with passing places, some of which the cars and trucks used, some of which they tried to squeeze past. To counter this we’d started to take the lane and then let the traffic past at the passing points. It is the first time in his life that Dec was in the right for blindly riding down the middle of the road! Onto the long single track causeway to North Uist and there was a traffic jam! It was slow going and one elderly lady gave Dec the V’s for holding her up! And so it crawled on until at last we were only 3 miles from our luxury accommodation for the night at the Tractor Shed in Pailble. This is where the only place to eat was within 20 miles. We pulled up and it looked shut. A local greeted us and started up the drive. KC asked him if it was open, “Aye” does it do food? “Not on a Tuesday, plenty beer, but no food.” Bugger. Plan B, there was a shop in the village and there was cooking facilities at the place, let’s get to the shop. However there was still the stage win to aim for, finishing line, as usual, town/village sign of the final destination. Doing a long one was out of the question as we had to keep stopping at the passing places, so with Frankie looking after Dec it was Kieran saying let’s not mess about while tightening his cycle shoes in readinesses and whose eyesight was best to spot the sign! Cut a long story short, I hadn’t clipped my shoes back in and Kieran saw the sign first, stage to Kieran!

 As we wiped off speed, we went past “the shop”, turned round only to be told it closed at 6. It was 6.20. There was nothing else to eat for20 miles. Bollocks. Pleading with the owner he relented and re-opened for us! What an absolute superstar! 6 pizzas, beer and rice and it was turn left at the pink school and then another 10 minutes trying to find it, only enlivened by Frankie having a comedy get off at 0mph! As he lay there on the ground we debated on whether we should just shoot him where he lay like you would with a lame horse or help him up! Back on his bike with a sore elbow we finally pulled up to the Tractor Shed and our hut for 4! It was basic but bloody lovely…or it was until we found it had no oven to cook the pizzas…luckily another inhabitant of a hut was somewhat of a bush cook and using her top frying pan technique on the hob, Kieran racked up the pizzas one by one perfectly!

There was just time to find out one of the other guests was a trainee physio, followed by a chorus of can we help me with back, knees, hips a yoga class in the hut from KC and Frankie, a debate on the route tomorrow and how hard it’s going to be, (aside, it’s going to be hard! 80 miles, 3 times as much climbing as today and a ferry to catch!) and bed. I mean, what could go wrong…