I was full of energy and even my shoes were dry again, thanks to Lesley’s help. In the beginning heaven was grey, but after the short ride from my home for the last couple of days to the little harbour town of Campeltown the sun came out to warm my soul. That would be well needed.
Everything I wrote about vertical cycling challenges in the last articles had been not even close to that what came today. Already during the planning in the evening before it became clear that there would be a real challenge ahead. A rollercoaster came to mind when looking at the relief. At least there was no looping. So I just accepted the first climbs in a calm mood and low gear. I rode along with a beautiful backdrop. The roads were free of any potholes and the traffic was very easy.
But while the day passed by the constant up and down began to wrench both, thighs and nerves. But then again, a week ago I would not have dared to think I could climb those hills with all the luggage. Well, in a low gear and quite slow. Sometimes I asked myself whether you can call it still bike riding, when the old age pensioner with his rollator passed me from behind, smiled benignly and kindly asked to help with my luggage on the way up. But nevertheless: I drive. And every time at the top of the steepest hills, as if ordered to be there, there were some guys who stopped there to take some pictures. And every time they were compassionate, shook their heads, but all of them smiled and encouraged me. And all of them made it very clear that none of them would think about climbing a hill with a bike and that much luggage.
When it was time to rest at noon there was no café in reach. I was so exhausted that I just stopped and sat at the fringe of the street, grabbed my camp stove and prepared a tasty rice dish with an extra avocado. I recently saw a documentary about an avocado plantation in a Mexican village. There was a constant threat due to organised criminals. That led to an extreme para-military armament to fight those mobsters. It was very impressive which ardor it took just to harvest and sell those delicious fruits. Thanks a lot, I appreciate this. But as in most cases of products harvested or assembled in foreign countries of any kind this is not even close to be good enough, I guess.
When the day and the leg came close to the end I passed the nice and picturesque town of Tarbert. There, I gazed at the water in the harbour and ate another snack.
On the camping site in Lochgilphead after a lot of elevation gain (and loss) I sat just there apathetically. Then I built my home for the night. What a day!
This day gets the Wild-Mouse-Memorial-Award in silver for an outstanding performance in the up and down domain.
Fun fact: The professional laundry hut of the camping site was the official launderette of the town. Until ten o‘clock there was a constant come and go of locals who brought huge bags or buckets to the hut and filled and cleared the giant tumble dryers.