LeJOG DAY 8 Bonar Bridge To John O'Groats

Day 8: push to the top. People who don't ride long distances wonder at the physical capabilities of those who do. Those who do ride long distances know the physical element is only a small part - its really a mind game.  

Waking early this morning the weather forecast was rain and wind followed by heavy rain and strong winds. A lovely breakfast including tattie scones and lorne sausage set us up for the day as best possible, we put full wet weather gear on and headed out, into the rain.

After 8 days of cycling together we'd got into a grove. Ben generally felt stronger in the morning, I did later on in the day. I don't think Ben realised, but the reason I felt better later on was that he'd done most the work in the morning and was knackered. Of course I was the last person who was going to point that out to him, at least until now.

The first section up and through Lairg was wet and felt all uphill. It already felt like a day you'd rather not be cycling 100+ miles. After Lairg it was single track and we had to stop constantly to let motorhomes by. It was slow going. Ben was sure every bird with a wingspan of more that 6 inches was an Eagle, someone needs to buy him a book. He did spot a red squirrel though.

Then we got to the turn at Altnaharra and took the right fork as recommended by WCC King of LeJog (for now!) Paul Workman. Suddenly the rain and wind stopped and the views were out of this world. We rode through it not speaking, soaking up the immense views as our moods lifted. Then we got to Betty hill.

Sitting on the North Atlantic coast this is one of a number of towns along that north coast of Scotland with beaches and caravan parks. Well you would have to be one mad c*$t to go there on a beach holiday. Suddenly the rain was like ice and the wind blew it right through you. I had 3 waterproofs and 2 other layers on and within seconds couldn't feel my feet, hands or most of my body. The only bonus was it took my mind off the damage to my undercarriage the last 7 days had inflicted.

If we had been on the organised RAB, I'm sure we would have been in the broomwagon within a few minutes. But we had no plan B and so the mental games began. 45 miles in those conditions was brutal. As much as we wanted to stop for a break, stopping meant instant hyperthermia. So we had to keep going, albeit very slowly.

I don't know how long that section of the ride went on for. But with no options, we had to keep pedalling knowing it would end, eventually

And then we got to JOG. Not a soul around to take a photo for us. We took a couple and then headed to the hotel to warm up the best way possible.

1509km or 937 miles in 8 days. Time for some R and R.