Riding into the sunset

We woke up from our nicely hidden camping site between a canal and the river connecting the many lochs. I remember Lyonell asking me about farts. Asking how I was reacting to the food of the previous night. What do you mean I am not supposed to be writing stuff like this in a blog? So you don’t want to know my answer? Fine. I’ll skip it.
The second day included a lot of of-roading. Some serious of-roading in fact, to the point that a road bike would not be able to make this trip.

Of course the shocks on the front of Escriptius Robustus were quite handy. The trailer squeaked and sure made it sound as if it wasn’t so happy. We had to deal with quite a few obstacles on this day. First, fallen trees made us feel, hmmm, welcome on the forrest trails.

And of course, that would be ok – if it wasn’t immediately proceeded by the world famous dangerous lambs!


And I am not even mentioning the fact that we had to drive, scratch that, ride on the left side of the road! Pssh. How is one supposed to hand signal in this situation???
From the area of the lakes we eventually made it to the Highlands. This is where a Scottish national park stands along with the highest peak in Britain, a towering snow capped of a beast peaking above the clouds at 1300 meters. Yes, that is Ben Nevis. You could see it in the background…

The highlands were quite different. this almost felt like desert meet far north meet lots of water. I mean, it was desolate, very little fauna and very few types. Yet there were streams everywhere and the land was drenched to the point that it was hard to find a spot to camp. The water was drinkable. And by that I mean, we drank it. But not so showerable.
Damn that Scottish cold water.

The final day of the trip included finishing the climb into the highland eventually, completing the descent from the highlands… quite quite beautiful. Glen Coe is the main village, I guess the best known one in the area. And Glen, it turns out is not just a popular name, it also means valley, in Scottish that is. I did see a sign for Rob Roy’s grave from the train station where we boarded back on our way towards Edinburgh.





Beautiful weather was our lot. I might be the first ever person to return from Scotland with a tan…
142 miles total. Two nights out. Pretty lakes. Lots of hills. And so so many sheep.
Fun way to travel, by bike.