“Oh Jean” Hebridean Way Day 4 - Paible - Berneray Ferry - Harris Sound - Leverburgh - Tarbert - a whole lot of nothing - Archonre
We were all a bit worried about today. A couple of big climbs, a whole lot of nothing after Tarbert 42 miles in, and an early ferry to catch, which if we missed it, would proper scupper everything. Over a somewhat heated debate after the pizzas we came to kind of a consensus that it was 21 miles to the ferry and we had to be there for 10, so no cocking about and we needed to be away for 7.30, at the latest, to make sure that any mechanicals ( I’m looking at you Dec) or other misfortunes would be able to be taken care of and still make the ferry.
Amazingly the alarms went off at 6 and despite Kieran’s lack of sleep due to the amount of snoring coming from the other 3 in the shed, ( he was chuntering at 3 in the morning about this was the last trip he’d ever do, why was he putting up with this etc..) a home made breakfast was consumed, bags were packed and KC and Dec were ready and due to Dec’s moaning and his Henri the tortoise like speed yesterday, they’d get a head start to make sure they’d make the ferry. With just a quick photo of the frankly stupendous sunrise over the sheds, me and Frankie set out after them in the morning sunshine in what looked like a lovely ride to the ferry terminal at Berneray.
By silent agreement, we decided to ride the first 10 miles together but apart. We didn’t really speak and as he eased into the distance, I had a bit of time for contemplation. It was beautiful. The weather was amazing. I’ve got a beautiful wife and 2 fantastic kids. A job I love. Given how poorly I’d been last year I didn’t think I’d ever be able to do this stupid thing that I love so much again. I may have shed a little tear to be honest, I am so lucky really! Just as I was pulling myself together taking a photo of the amazing bay, my phone rang. It was Kieran. He was NOT happy. Inbetween the swear words I could make out that they’d put the end of yesterdays route in to set off (we’d booked accommodation after the route was planned, so we stopped 3 miles “short” last night) and followed it slavishly. So slavishly in fact, that a 9 mile loop had brought them right back to the Tractor Shed…it was 8.28. It gave them 1 hour 32 minutes to do the 21 miles to the terminal. Me and Frankie only has 9miles left.
To be honest, I didn’t know how to take it. If they missed the ferry, the next one was 1.30. Then it was 54 miles and a ton of climbing and we were staying in the middle of nowhere. I’m lying of course, I found it absolutely hilarious! Catching up the Frankie to tell him the bad/good news I was a bit conflicted. Of course it would be better for everyone if we made the ferry. As I confessed to Frankie, it would be fantastic for the blog and would put to bed, once and for all, me booking the wrong ferry then losing my phone and ending up in a different country at the end of Ireland end to end! Frankie, it has to be said, was nailing his colours to the “hope they make it scenario” but I was pretty ambivalent!
Rolling into Berneray ferry terminal at 9.30, I bagged a place at a somewhat chaotic breakfast van to get some grease that we didn’t get back at the tractor shed and by the time I got served 20 minutes later the most shambolic looking time trial team you’ve ever seen were crossing the causeway. They’d made it! I think it was somewhat a less relaxed morning for them both! Onto the ferry across the Harris Sound, me and Kieran took the chance of 40 winks and we were soon off and out onto Harris.
Wow and double wow. I think the 22 miles to Tarbert will stick with me for ever. Round every corner was another world beating view. It was absolutely incredible. There was no traffic and no people, just mile after mile of empty beaches, towering rocks and mirror clear inlets. And cows on the beach! I had to send a photo to Mizz! It might have ruined cycling for me, this holiday, as when I’m at Frankie’s dodging the traffic in Manchester, I fear it won’t be quite the same!
All this heartfelt stuff you say, what about the “racing”?! Well once they’d pulled themselves together we had a total of 6 categorised climbs on todays stage, 4 smaller ones and 2 biggies one just before Tarbert and the big one up to Aird Asaig just after. It all started so well! The double summit of the first climb caught Kieran out and I was able to scrape past him to take the points. However, I was tired already and had come to conclusion that while the other 3 part-timers could go flat out as it was their last full day tomorrow, I still had another 4 and a half days to go and I needed to be careful. Dec will be bleating about me getting my excuses in first, and yes, but it was true!
Can I just say what a carpetbagger, what a bluffer, what a hustler, Dec is?! Yesterday was “oh poor me, I’ve made a disastrous decision bring the Brompton, oh, it’s the worst day I’ve had in a bike..” bollocks! Suddenly today, he’s like Bradley Wiggins and Tom Piddcock rolled into one! If I was a suspicious man, the red substance in the toilets last night he claimed was beetroot juice may be the remnants of someone else’s blood…
You know what’s coming! On the big climb before Tarbert, him and Kieran already had a mile head start as me and Frankie took some photos and videos of the coming climb. Slowly I was reeling him in and got within around 400 yards, but got no further and despite my best efforts he beat me to the top. Not Kieran mind who still battered him! At the top, he was of course magnanimous in his victory, (not!) and if he wasn’t so unbearable, I’d be able to say how remarkable it is that he 1) got up the climb on the Brompton, I don’t think I could in mine and 2) beat me up it! Chapeau Dec, chapeau! All only possible, of course, because I’d fixed the poor neglected thing in the first place. Just saying…
With the elephant in the room out of the way, and my long term strategy of spinning it easy keeping my heart rate under 130 where possible, him and Kieran continued to hand me my arse over the remaining 4 climbs, a particular highlight was watching them try and get the summit of one of the smaller climbs looking like 2 bald men fighting over a comb…with Kieran winning natch! I think Kieran has a pretty unassailable lead in the climbers jersey and with only a few climbs tomorrow Dec is going to have to do something special…
Anyway we are getting away with ourselves, back to the lunch stop at Tarbert! Midges, millions of them! For the first time on the trip we encountered the much warned about curse of the Scottish summer. Waiting at the turn in from the main road for Dec to make sure he didn’t miss it, within seconds I was covered in them! Deciding I wasn’t going to get eaten alive and Dec would work it out, we found a place to get some lunch, locked the bikes and got in from the midges! On the opposite table was a Californian lady we’d met on the ferry who had an e-bike and was doing the same trip as us. Not that unusual you might think, but she was 70, yes 70! Don’t let anyone tell you e-bikes aren’t the future, and please punch anyone who tells you they are “cheating”! As we chatted, she said that she was having trouble with her brakes (it was a bit wet coming into Tarbet) but she’d not used disc brakes before (it was a hire bike she’d cycled from Edinburgh on!). Having eaten my dinner and raiding Kieran’s well stocked tool box I managed to brave 10 minutes to adjust both brakes, good deed done for the day! I told her ideally she needed new pads on the back which she then told me she had, but it would have been a half hour job and we needed to get going!
The final 32 miles were memorable only for the big climb out which was a brute and very much reminded me of Bealach na ba the toughest climb in the UK which I did with Mark Noble to complete the 100 climbs, if on a slight smaller scale. As previously noted Declan beat me over this one as well. See Dec, I have put it in! Again, he was obviously beaten again by Kieran! Although the scenery would normally be spectacular, we’d been proper spoilt by the ride from Leverburgh to Tarbert and there was nothing else, no shops, no cafes between there and our B&B so just the race for the stage, again contested between Kieran and Dec, again won by Kieran, with me and Frankie keeping each other company and offering moral support as the mikes ticked off.
As we were in the middle of nowhere we had planned ahead and seen the only place was a pizza shack in a container on the outskirts of Archmor. It shut at 7.30, and we were rolling into the car park at 6.10. It was shut. Of course it was. Apparently the winter timetable started on Monday. With a heavy heart we trooped to the B&B where a lovely welcome from Hamish & Magaidh, 2 pots of tea, homemade shortbread and a plate of cheese and oatcakes made the world seem ok again! Magaidh then said she’d drive the 24 mile round trip into Stornoway to get us a Chinese! I bloody love B&B’s!
With just time to have an argument with one of Dec’s friends on Facebook after she posted what a bad example I’m setting to her children by not wearing a helmet 🙄 the take away was polished off and to our rooms we went!
End of the Hebridean Way tomorrow as we go up to the Butt of Ness then return back to Stornoway to stay overnight before the chaps return to Ullapool and Inverness to get the sleeper on Friday. 68 miles, but no ferries and weather looks awful. Sorry that should be magnificent. Should be a doddle…
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