DAY 4

Getting the ferry the morning from Dunoon across the bay to Greenock where our cycle began. Once on the other side we fiddled with the GPS system for around 30 minutes, trying to decipher why it was going to take us up the most hideous hills (probably similar in scale to Mt Doom from Lord of the Rings). Never fear! I re-calculated the route using the auto-routing feature on the system and we all stood by anxiously waiting for about 10 minutes for it to re-calculate our route.
I was the first to get a look.It seemed our options were to:
1) Tackle the mount Doom route
2) Cycle 130.2 miles around them via a series of cycle routes.
We opted for mount Doom. Protecting onto our rings with gel saddles and padded shorts, the fellowship started on a journey that would probably destroy them (the rings)
Whilst cycling we encountered a strange sight. A glowing yellow orb up between the clouds that seemed to be emitting light. We were confused by what this could be, possibly a U.F.O, (there had been sightings in nearby areas). We looked at it for a while before Robbie clicked and pointed out that it was the sun.
But as quickly as it appeared, it disappeared again. Once again the weather was relentless and refused to give way. Shivering like drowned rats we plodded on and up the roads. One of the worst things about the day was the road surfaces, which have been the worst so far. Truly they were shocking, with gaping potholes every few metres and uneven gravel that hadn’t been smoothed , so we were weaving back and forth, desperately trying to avoid shards of glass and other obstacles in our way.
We pulled over at a roadside junction to consult the GPS and discuss where we were going to meet the support car. As we were talking, a gang of ‘youths’ (approximate age 14-15) approached us and began eyeing up our bikes. Smiling at our skintight attire (which was funny because they looked equally ridiculous in their tracksuits that clearly had never seen anyth8ing close to exercise), one of the short and dumpy girls asked me in a thick Scottish accent:
“Can aaaaaaai have yur baike?”
To which I very swiftly replied a very firm and grumpy sounding “No”
Laughing at me the girl turned to walk away before I told her that she “could never ride my bike because she was much too fat”. The hurt look on her face was enough to spike team morale, and the group of the previously very cocky teenagers shuffled away looking dejected and hurt. To add insult to injury, the words “Nice come back!” was shouted after them.
Laughing, we continued on our way and met up with the support car and arranged to meet up with them around 20 miles down the road for lunch. However, Tarn was driving, and instead of doing the sensible thing of driving 20 miles down the road, he instead drove 40 miles, leaving us cyclists starving hungry, dehydrated and out of water, prompting an annoyed phone call. Tarn gave us the co-ordinates of their location, which on my GPS seemed to put him in the middle of a wood, halfway up a mountain about 30 miles away from our location. Needless to say, the co-ordinates were wrong, and lunch was waiting for us by the side of a quiet stream. Oli came to the rescue and water was delivered to us and we continued to lunch.
After lunch, the cycling was getting to my head. In order to keep my spirits up I started playing games with approaching traffic (no Gran, not ‘chicken’). Waving and sticking my thumbs up to every car that passed trying to count up the ‘score’ that I got from every honk. I was going to encourage Robbie and Tom to join me in playing this game, but they didn’t seem to be in the mood, preferring to deal with it all by keeping their heads down and concentrating on the cycling.
Pulling over at a bus stop with around 20 miles to go, we took a break before our final slog. Cracking open a couple of cans of Nurishment, Tom immediately started shouting:
“YOU STUPID DRINK! WHY DID YOU DO THAT!!??” He had spilled some on himself and decided to take out his frustration on the can itself. Clearly the can was now sentient and had a mind out to spill itself all over him.
Our final destination for the day was the interestingly named “Haugh of Urr” (which did sound like a location from Lord of the Rings), and stopped in a pub for a pub food dinner. Unpacked at the youth hostel at around 9pm and collapsed into the showers and then into bed for a very long an refreshing sleep.
On an extra note, quote of the day comes from Tarn, who, after Robbie looked at the route and said “that’s like trying to cook bacon with ice”, replied with “but... you can cook bacon with ice”