Some days are tough, others, like today, seem to fly by. By their independance the Scots re-calculated ‘the mile’ so it is now a movable feast. Some miles are longer than others.
I instructed the staff to lay out my clothes as per usual for today. Imagine their dismay when we were greeted by grey skies at dawn. Naturally I plumped for cavalry twill with Rapha tweeds. This caused no end of unrest as some silly beggar omitted to keep such necessary back- up ironed. I breakfasted on laughably small portions that sat midships on laughably big white plates. It seems the more you pay, the less nosh there is to nosh, this in Aviemore: home to hikers and bikers alike. Dammit, I demanded, chap needs fuel for the day and, on so doing, my beans ration was doubled and toast followed endlessly on tap. If you don’t make a fuss these blighters only take advantage
Outfit duly laundered I upset the mechanics by plumping for my smaller 50″ penny after Paul and I surveyed his map. A wise choice for my tired legs I think.
Modern gears on cycles still use inches; relating to the size of a penny wheel, the smaller the wheel the easier the climb but the slower the progress. I notice this when I am behind John on his 52″ wheel. His legs turn slowly as my feet pump away 14 to the dozen. That’s gearing for you. His two 52″ machines are nearly identical, me returning to my smaller machine that got me over Dartmuir (Scottish spelling) all those weeks ago, was like welcoming back an old friend. John has a pure-bred racing machine, I have a compound hybrid made out of old bits of rusting metal from someone’s shed.(fig 1)
Astrid and Israh were all set to camp or sleep in the van until the lovely woman next to our hotel offered them a bed for the night. This doesn’t always happen south of the border.
Clan-wise we are on the Borders of Sutherland and Ross, relatively peaceful. Tomorrow night we have to stop just before we pass the small Coastal strip that is Gunn territory. Using his trusty iPhone that has already stopped a few bullets, Benney has called up reinforcements from the Elliots (low landers greatly feared and respected in these parts) as we know the Gunns to be an unruly lot, ne’er-do-wells and cut-purses who think of nothing short of robbing a passing chap of his weaponry snd worse, his gentlemans relish. Breakfast without Marmite; quite unthinkable.
