- Location
- Glasgow
Tell us, o Muse, the tale of 10 courageous cycle chatters (plus @Brandane who left us on an island, taking away the sun with him), heroes that pedaled hard into the wind storms, so that their leader could revisit his ancestral home.
Day1:
Glasgow to Ardrossan Harbour by train, ferry to Brodick, on the isle of Arran, cycle to Lochranza.
On the train: Pat 5mph, Heather, Fiona, Ellebells, DougieAB, Harry Palmer 78, Scoosh, Fubar (our much revered leader). Meeting us at Ardrossan: MikeW-71, Brandane.
Meeting us in limbo: Edwardoka. Sorry for not tagging, it does not seem to work at the moment.
Some pictures of where it all begins (will put more in an album later) on a warm, sunny day, the gentle rocking of the ferry inducing musing of anticipation for the adventures to come, dread of failing on the steep hills ... visions of unfulfilled coffee cravings (me) ... a worried frown on our beloved leader's brow that will not quite fade till the end of this tale.
Laughter and merry making on this first ferry was now to be put aside, it is time to ride!
Oh pragmatic, much beloved all encompassing leader, what are your instructions for us today?
In earnest I say to you, my followers: don't ... die!
Shortly after, Garmins fired up, us girls, @Brandane and @Scoosh set out for the short (15 miles) anticlockwise way to Lochranza, while the rest headed the long way, about 40 miles clockwise.
What started as a pleasant coastal ride on a balmy afternoon was soon to turn into a nightmare climb: a close relative of Mount Ventoux suddenly appeared from round the corner ... nobody told me I had to cycle up an Alp! To my great dismay I see Fiona and Brandane wizzing up the monster hill like they had an invisible rope pulling, while Heather, Ellebells and I wished we never packed the toothpaste.
@Scoosh, always the gentleman, stayed behind shouting encouraging "allez" reclined on his 'bent.
Walking was not an option here: pushing up the bikes would have been more strenuous than cycling. Steaming like witches cauldrons, Ellebells her 2 bottom gears not engaging, Heather who should not have been cycling due to health reasons, me, with no excuse for not having lost a stone before the trip like I should have ... we made it to the top!
Ellebells reaches the top of Arran's steepest hill, with Heather not far behind.
@Brandane had to go for a sleep after reaching the top 
I was not last on the climb for a change, but I was last on the descent. Nay, I'm not scared of downhill, me
, just wanted to take the scenery in ... ahem ...
My Strava here, much faster versions are available
Lochranza, here we are! Still too early to check into the youth hostel, still too nice a day to stop riding.
So we ride towards the next village, along the coast, looking for a cuppa.
Picture this: four slightly dazed ladies on bikes, one man in search for his next hill, one Scooshy in a recumbent following said ladies to ...? Who knows ... let's go for coffee, let's ... stop, look, a seal, take a picture ... yes, no? Further up? Let's ride back, no let's take a photo here! What, it's not a real seal, it's a statue?? Let's take a picture anyway
Sorry @Scoosh we changed our minds, we are going to see the cignets ... yes, we just came from down there, but I didn't see them, just going to ride back a moment, we wanted a photo of that beach anyway ...
Scoosh pedals away (can't blame him) we don't see him for a good half hour, while we find a nice place for coffee near the Lochranza ferry terminal.
The coffee was excellent; the resident dog, Cooper, a gigantic German something or other, took a shine on me, sort of mistook me for his long lost Mum ... there are pictures I believe.
In the meantime, @Brandane also makes a canine acquaintance: while he is busy playing with his new pal, @Ellebells can't miss a picture opportunity of this bucolic frolicking.
There was a big bush of nettles nearby. Nobody else stepped in it. We did have Sudocream in our panniers. Nobody died.
Meanwhile, we have regrouped. The ones that rode the long way joined us, but still no news from @Edwardoka, who has been delayed in Glasgow by work, mechanicals and lack of sleep, is meant to join us in time for dinner. As there is hardly any mobile signal on the island, we are not overly worried, but hold little hope. Brandane says his goodbyes, intending to ride back to the ferry by the String road, the hilliest of them all.
We check into our accommodation, head to the nearby distillery that has a restaurant with a promising menu, 9 hungry cyclists, on foot for a change.
What I did not say previously, is that @Fubar was not happy with doing the 40 hilly miles, plus the 18 miles to the station that morning, he rode some more to make his 100km a month challenge!
We chatted in the restaurant, had a drink, ordered: suddenly a ghostly (maybe even a wee bit ghastly) being appeared: yes, it is @Edwardoka! He had had no sleep, his bike no panniers.
Carrying an enormous rucksack on his back, he climbed the monster hill in record time.
He made it, we are 10 again, ready to begin the next challenge!
Still, this day's perils where not over: the road back to the hostel was totally devoid of streetlights or moonlight or a pavement. We made our way to our well deserved beds by mobile phone light, following Ed's bike lights in the distance.
Ed's mega luggage:
End of day one.
To be continued ...
Day1:
Glasgow to Ardrossan Harbour by train, ferry to Brodick, on the isle of Arran, cycle to Lochranza.
On the train: Pat 5mph, Heather, Fiona, Ellebells, DougieAB, Harry Palmer 78, Scoosh, Fubar (our much revered leader). Meeting us at Ardrossan: MikeW-71, Brandane.
Meeting us in limbo: Edwardoka. Sorry for not tagging, it does not seem to work at the moment.
Some pictures of where it all begins (will put more in an album later) on a warm, sunny day, the gentle rocking of the ferry inducing musing of anticipation for the adventures to come, dread of failing on the steep hills ... visions of unfulfilled coffee cravings (me) ... a worried frown on our beloved leader's brow that will not quite fade till the end of this tale.
Laughter and merry making on this first ferry was now to be put aside, it is time to ride!
Oh pragmatic, much beloved all encompassing leader, what are your instructions for us today?
In earnest I say to you, my followers: don't ... die!
Shortly after, Garmins fired up, us girls, @Brandane and @Scoosh set out for the short (15 miles) anticlockwise way to Lochranza, while the rest headed the long way, about 40 miles clockwise.
What started as a pleasant coastal ride on a balmy afternoon was soon to turn into a nightmare climb: a close relative of Mount Ventoux suddenly appeared from round the corner ... nobody told me I had to cycle up an Alp! To my great dismay I see Fiona and Brandane wizzing up the monster hill like they had an invisible rope pulling, while Heather, Ellebells and I wished we never packed the toothpaste.
@Scoosh, always the gentleman, stayed behind shouting encouraging "allez" reclined on his 'bent.
Walking was not an option here: pushing up the bikes would have been more strenuous than cycling. Steaming like witches cauldrons, Ellebells her 2 bottom gears not engaging, Heather who should not have been cycling due to health reasons, me, with no excuse for not having lost a stone before the trip like I should have ... we made it to the top!
Ellebells reaches the top of Arran's steepest hill, with Heather not far behind.
@Brandane had to go for a sleep after reaching the top I was not last on the climb for a change, but I was last on the descent. Nay, I'm not scared of downhill, me
, just wanted to take the scenery in ... ahem ...My Strava here, much faster versions are available
Lochranza, here we are! Still too early to check into the youth hostel, still too nice a day to stop riding.
So we ride towards the next village, along the coast, looking for a cuppa.
Picture this: four slightly dazed ladies on bikes, one man in search for his next hill, one Scooshy in a recumbent following said ladies to ...? Who knows ... let's go for coffee, let's ... stop, look, a seal, take a picture ... yes, no? Further up? Let's ride back, no let's take a photo here! What, it's not a real seal, it's a statue?? Let's take a picture anyway
Sorry @Scoosh we changed our minds, we are going to see the cignets ... yes, we just came from down there, but I didn't see them, just going to ride back a moment, we wanted a photo of that beach anyway ...Scoosh pedals away (can't blame him) we don't see him for a good half hour, while we find a nice place for coffee near the Lochranza ferry terminal.
The coffee was excellent; the resident dog, Cooper, a gigantic German something or other, took a shine on me, sort of mistook me for his long lost Mum ... there are pictures I believe.
In the meantime, @Brandane also makes a canine acquaintance: while he is busy playing with his new pal, @Ellebells can't miss a picture opportunity of this bucolic frolicking.
There was a big bush of nettles nearby. Nobody else stepped in it. We did have Sudocream in our panniers. Nobody died.
Meanwhile, we have regrouped. The ones that rode the long way joined us, but still no news from @Edwardoka, who has been delayed in Glasgow by work, mechanicals and lack of sleep, is meant to join us in time for dinner. As there is hardly any mobile signal on the island, we are not overly worried, but hold little hope. Brandane says his goodbyes, intending to ride back to the ferry by the String road, the hilliest of them all.
We check into our accommodation, head to the nearby distillery that has a restaurant with a promising menu, 9 hungry cyclists, on foot for a change.
What I did not say previously, is that @Fubar was not happy with doing the 40 hilly miles, plus the 18 miles to the station that morning, he rode some more to make his 100km a month challenge!
We chatted in the restaurant, had a drink, ordered: suddenly a ghostly (maybe even a wee bit ghastly) being appeared: yes, it is @Edwardoka! He had had no sleep, his bike no panniers.
Carrying an enormous rucksack on his back, he climbed the monster hill in record time.
He made it, we are 10 again, ready to begin the next challenge!
Still, this day's perils where not over: the road back to the hostel was totally devoid of streetlights or moonlight or a pavement. We made our way to our well deserved beds by mobile phone light, following Ed's bike lights in the distance.
Ed's mega luggage:
End of day one.
To be continued ...
while 
I was 
being his name William, having had auburn hair.
the loaded panniers are secured.
sake, I've just told you! 
