More lightness for Brompty

After waiting a few weeks, my new bottom bracket for the Brompton finally turned up.  A titanium axled TA Axix Light Pro.

I was staggered how light this was!  165 grammes (compared to about 320 for the Shimano unit I have fitted currently).

I am also hoping that this bottom bracket will last better than the FAG or Shimano units – I seem to get them loose and clickey pretty quickly – not sure why either (I am only 140lbs and don’t ride that far each day).

Fitting was easy, but mucky!

A quick spin around the block and the bottom bracket felt like a dream – no clicks or looseness.  Made the bike feel a lot more responsive (and, obviously, I was able to feel the loss of 160g on the bike!).

Seems like a good upgrade in terms of £ vs g – £63 to save 160 grammes – not bad at all.  Boring though – no-one can see it!  So here it is in all it’s glory.

Available from Wiggle (though you might have to wait a few weeks).

A weekend full of Bromptons!

Well, what a weekend that’s been!

This weekend was the Brompton World Championships.  It’s the third year it’s been run and the first time it’s been run in the UK.

It’s being held at Blenheim Palace in Oxfordshire and features about a 13Km ride around the grounds.  Brompton are hoping to have around 500 entries.  The rules are fairly simple – it’s timed rather than based on position and you have to wear a suit.

I did a similar race back in June around Smithfield Market (photos here) – so followed the same sort of preperations (to the bike, my preperations in terms of training was limited – though I think I am in better shape at the moment, than I have been for a long time – 3 weeks cycling in the Hebrides in August and a week at high altitude in Colorado (only on static bikes in a gym sadly though)).  I run a larger front chain ring anyway on my Brompton (54 tooth) and have slick tyres (Schwalbe Stelvio) on anyway; but I did a little more weight saving by taking off the mudguards and for a final bit of power, I put my Crank Brothers Egg Beater pedals onto the Brompton.

I was hoping that my new bottom bracket would have arrived by now – but it is still on order.  I seem to be able to break Brompton bottom brackets at quite a rate (2 a year).  I am not heavy (10 stone), ride only about 4 miles a day, but I still manage to break them.  This ones been clicking and squeaking a while now – but I decided to splash out on a TA Axix titanium unit.  Lightweight and hopefully a bit better lasting than the FAG units Brompton use.

Anyway – no new bottom bracket, so I will have to hope that this one holds out and put up with it’s squeaking.

Brompton has organised a get-together for the Saturday prior to the World Championships.  The plan is to meet in town and then ride (via the tourist sites) to the factory to have a look around, enjoy a bit of food and music.  I had been to the factory before (photos here), but this sounded like a fun day.

It was a beautiful sunny day and I headed into town.  I got there a little early to hopefully meet up with Cass and grab a coffee before riding.  There were a couple of people there already, and soon, more and more people turned up.  There were all sorts of shapes and sizes of Bromptons – some very interesting modifications etc.  More and more people kept on coming – but no Cass!  Finally she arrived, having got a little lost.  It was a little awkward as Cass was one of only a couple of people not on a Brompton – but we put up with the funny looks!

After a good poke around everyone’s bikes, we headed off – there must have been around 70 or 80 Bromptons in convoy!  We got a lot of looks from people!  The ride was typical for a loosely organised trip through London – i.e. a little on the scary side!

The group got split up a few times and a couple of wrong turns – but finally, we were cruising down Chiswick High Road and into the factory.

They’d really pulled out all the stops today – as well as an opportunity for their customers (i.e. us) to go to the factory, they were also giving their staff the opportunity to bring their families into the factory etc.  So, they had a large marquee over the carpark with a bar, hog roast, jazz band etc.!  It was great to see the rows of Bromptons parked back at the mothership where they were built.

After enjoying a cooling drink and some lovely roasted lamb, it was good to have a look around the factory.

Brompton truly are a company driven by engineering excellence.  Around 70% of the parts they use are designed by and for their bikes only.  The frames are all hand-brazed in London, then sent off to various paint factories, before returning to London to be built into a bike.

Every Brompton is built to specification – you get to choose everything from colour, gearing, handlebar style etc.

So about half the factory is devoted to assembly bays, where the bikes are built up.

It was great to see the factory and re-affirm my views on Brompton’s quality.  We headed off fairly early – I needed to prepare for the Worlds tomorrow!  So, carbo-loading and an early night was what I needed.  However, it was more fun to head into town for a mate’s birthday, not eat properly and get to bed about 12:30 instead!

Early start on Sunday – met Cass at the coffee shop and then drove up to Blenheim Palace.

We registered and then looked around a while – there were loads of bikes, and most of them Bromptons!  There were other (more serious) races going on (time trials etc.) and I did wonder what on earth the competitors in these must have thought of hundreds of be-suited ladies and gents on little-wheeled bikes!

The weather was playing nice again – beautiful clear day.

As time to race approached, we had to put our bikes into their allocated slots on the start field.  I was in the first 100 group – which I think was a small advantage.  However right next to me was Roberto Heras, a three-time winner of the Tour Of Spain – he was hot favourite having been brought over the Spanish distributor to retain the crown for Spain.

After a briefing we had to step away from our folded bikes and get to the start line.

At the horn, we ran to our bikes and unfolded them before joining the course.

I was not expecting the course to be quite as hilly as it was – there were some tough little climbs in there.  I thought I was making pretty good going until the afore-mentioned Roberto Heras came screaming past at speeds that simply should not be possible on a Brompton!

The race was great with people cheering us on around the track – especially in the finish straight.  My aerobic fitness was letting me down on the climbs – I know I’d set off too fast, so needed to recover a bit.  Luckily, there were a couple of long downhills to catch my breath!

I got round in 25 minutes and 58 seconds – it was good enough for 64th position – I was quite pleased!

In the end, the Spanish were thwarted in their attempts to retain the world championships by a chap called Alastair Kay (who won a new Brompton for his efforts!).

It was a great race and I enjoyed it thoroughly.

After the race, a little bit of lunch and recovery was in order – before heading around the route with Cass (at less ferocious pace this time!).  It was amazing how little I had noticed of the scenery on the race – it really was a beautiful route and it was nice to take our time and enjoy the views this time!

After the lap, an ice cream was in order, before another lap.

And then off home!

It was a great day – the whole weekend had been superb and well-organised.  It was great to see so many Bromptons (including Steve Parry’s amazing Brompton tandem) and such a wide range of people enjoying the riding and racing.

I can’t wait until next year – even if it’s not held in the UK, I will do my best to get there as it was so much fun.

Unicycling in Tibet and Nepal

So, there’s a guy riding round the world on a Brompton – and doing a good job of it so far, with a great blog as well.  That’s pretty brave in my book.  And then, along comes this guy who’s riding through Nepal and Tibet on his unicycle!

http://www.unicyclesteve.com/

All for charity – and a very cool challenge – look forward to finding out how he gets on.  Especially with the climbing.

Outer Hebrides trip Day 11 – Loop around Barra and Vatersay – 35.31 miles

Got up reasonably early, and enjoyed a shower in a proper bathroom and then someone making me breakfast.  I was staying at the Castlebay Hotel and I can recommend it – it was very reasonably priced at £59/night (though a bit more than the £5/night I had been paying most nights on campsites!).

I rode anti-clockwise around the island – so the first 7 or so miles were the ones I had ridden on yesterday – still all very attractive.  I headed north up the peninsula with the airport on.  I saw the airport as I carried on – I knew what time planes were due in, so I went on further up the peninsula.

I headed towards St. Barr’s Church (Cille Bharra) – it’s a very nice church with some very unusual offerings in there – including a bottle of Drambuie!  There were shells and other natural offerings.

I turned back towards the airport to make sure I didn’t miss the plane landing.  Barra airport is world famous as it has a runway that is cleaned twice a day by the sea.  Putting it simply, the runway is the beach and landings can only take place at low tide.  There were loads of people there to watch it – and with a nice warming cup of tea from the cafe in the terminal I awaited the plane.  It’s a pretty small plane and flies from Glasgow via Benbecula.  Birds must be a real pain for the airport!  In came the plane and landed on the beach.  It was quite a site as it landed kicking up loads of spray – must be interesting from inside the plane!

The plane delivers the newspaper for the island and these were unloaded before the passenger’s luggage! It had been funny being in the islands and on the odd days when I bought a paper, you wouldn’t be able to get it until mid-afternoon in certain parts.  So different from life in London.

I did not wait to see the plane take off – but that must be pretty spectacular again.

I carried on around the west coast of the island – very scenic with some great beaches.

Just before I reached Castlebay again, I turned off towards Vatersay – some steep climbing takes you onto an amazingly beautiful island with the best beaches and beautiful machair.  The beaches were beautiful and you were able to camp on them – there was an honesty box by the (abandoned) cafe.

The cows on Vatersay are often seen lying on the beach – but not today!

The beaches are gorgeous,  but hold some sad tales – one of which has a memorial.  In 1853, a ship carrying emigrants to New York hit troubles and broke up.  350 people were killed and they are buried in the dunes behind the beach.  Very sad.

I left Vatersay heading back to Castlebay – I stopped by a memorial to commemorate the death of 3 crew members when their Catalina plane crashed there in 1944.

I reached Castlebay and stopped for a coffee before jumping on the little boat to visit the castle in the bay – Kisimul.  It was not all that interesting – but I am not particularly interested in this kind of thing – give me prehistoric stuff any day!

I went to cafe Kisimul for dinner and it’s a busy little place.  For some reason the owner closes it at 8:30 though!  It was packed in there, but the German chap (who I’d now learnt was called Bernt) was there – so I joined him.  The yellow VW bus family were there too – I had now seen them many times and they’d followed me from Ullapool all the way here!

I had a delicious monkfish and cod masala and chatted with Bernt and a swedish couple who were walking on the island.

I’ll be sad to leave the Outer Hebrides tomorrow.  But I head up to Fort WIlliam to meet Cass, my girlfriend, and then head onto Skye for a few days.

It’s been a tough ride at times, but never without real highpoints.  I have managed 11 islands in 11 days – 478 miles on the bike in total.

Lewis

Harris

St. Kilda

Berneray

North Uist

Grimsay

Benbecula

South Uist

Eriskay

Barra

Vatersay

Outer Hebrides trip Day 10 – Howmore to Castlebay – 37.21 miles

Another very windy day – and they were, of course, major head winds.  Oh great.

Still, on I went.  I got a pretty late start – not sure why, just seemed to be faffing around this morning.  I was aiming for the 1pm ferry across to Barra, so needed to get a move on.

It was tough going already.

I stopped at Cladh Hallan Roundhouses and they had some great interpretation panels there (always a good thing).  It is an interesting site as it is the only place in the UK where prehistoric mummies have ever been found.  There were around 6 or 7 houses in the development and in some of the houses were burials – including the mummies.  Some of the mummies are believed to have died centuries (up to 500 years) before finally being buried in these houses.  One of the mummies was actually even made up of 3 different people! Interesting site and really very important.  South Uist is FULL of archaeological sites – many of which are yet to be excavated.  If the money were available, you could keep many archaeologists busy for life.

Next I wanted to see the wheelhouse at Cille Pheadair – I did not have a good enough map really.  I was hoping there might be a little sign post to it.  I had looked at a 1:25000 map in the hostel and seen it was down a track in the village.  But, of course, there were many tracks!  It’s a shame as it is meant to be very impressive and I had yet to see a wheelhouse.  Oh well – note to self – take detailed maps for looking for this kind of thing!

I got down to the causeway to Eriskay and it was obvious I wouldn’t make the 1pm ferry – so I stopped for lunch.  The causeway is unusual as it has a bridge half way down – to let whales through!  It felt good to leave the Uists – not because they were unattractive, as they are very pretty in parts – but that wind had hurt me.  I was battered and bruised from the hard work over the last couple of days.  But for now, I had another 3.5 hours to look around Eriskay.  So I ate lunch on a lovely little beach and then set off to have a look around the island.  There is a lovely little church (St. Michaels) with a very interesting alter made of a boat.  It was odd having been in so many churches on the islands and then coming into this one.  Rather than the very plain churches of Lewis and Harris, I was now in Roman Catholic country and this church was full of icons and things to buy.  Pretty little church though.

I went into the pub named after the SS Politician – this is the boat that Whisky Galore (the book and film) is based on.  Basically, the boat ran aground in 1941 and spilt part of it’s cargo of many thousands of bottles of whisky.  The locals helped themselves and several of them ended up in jail.  The pub was pretty grim though.

Looked around more of the beaches and then headed to the ferry terminal.  There is fresh water and showers at the terminal, so wild camping would be easy on the island.

So the ferry took me away – it’s only a 45 minute crossing to Barra, so hardly time to sit down.

I arrived in Barra and immediatly could see I was going to like this island.  It’s very rugged indeed and there’s not a lot in the middle (big hills), so everything is based around the coast.

I cycled down to Castlebay and checked into the hotel.  I bumped into the german chap again and had a chat with him.  It all seemed fine, but very weird to be in a building again!  I relaxed a while and even watched a bit of the Olympics of TV – first I had seen of it so far!  I then went out to dinner just as the ferry from Oban pulled into port.  On the deck was a huge pipe band playing their bagpipes and drums etc. – I was guessing that this did not happen every time and that they must have been at a competition or whatever – but it was a very moving, marvelous experience to see this ship coming in with the pipe band playing.  Everyone on deck was cheering and clapping when they finished, as were many people in the harbour.  Magic stuff.

I ate at a pub which served really good food – I had my first haggis of the trip!  Felt odd eating out rather than cooking for myself.

After dinner, I wandered around the village.  It’s quite an interesting place with good facilities.  There were a few people camping in the bay – it might be associated with the hostel.  I was also led to believe that there was good camping near the airport as well.  It was quite windy and stormy, but I sat and watched a seal bobbing about between the moored boats in the bay.  Very cute.

Read about day 11 here!

Outer Hebrides trip Day 9 – Rushgarry to Howmore – 50.03 miles

My plan of camping higher up certainly worked with keeping the midges away, but it was a very windy night and I did not sleep that well.  I was woken early with a strong sunrise, but managed to finally get to sleep again and actually slept until about 9 – which is quite late for me on this trip.

I got things packed up and set off into what were already tough headwinds and was making good progress until I hit a traffic jam of sheep being moved into the sheilings to be sheared.  Two guys on quads and a dog moved them down the road.  I didn’t mind one bit as it’s always good to see a good sheep dog working.

Having looped North Uist yesterday, I wanted to try and take a different route down to Clachan (where I could then take the road south and onwards), so I decided to take an unmarked road that seems to be known as The Committee Road.  It did actually have a signpost indicating it was the C83 road – I never knew we had C roads!  It was a great little road through moorland that served no real purpose as there was no community up there.  Getting back onto the main road towards Clachan and the head winds were the strongest I had experienced so far.  Very hard work indeed.

Made it to Clachan and headed onwards.  At Caranish, there is Trinity Temple – another abandoned church and also the site of a large battle in 1601 – Feith Na Fala – The Ditch Of Blood.  By this point it was also raining along with the strong winds – but I looked around the church before heading on.

This next leg took me over the corner of the island of Grimsay – all connected via causeways making it feel like you were flying over the sea and sands.   A few minutes later and I was on another island, Benbecula, and it was not all that pretty.  The area around the airport is dominated by military buildings.  Benbecula is the UK’s missile testing area.  The MOD doesn’t seem to do building in-keeping with the surroundings.  It is quite densely populated around this area as well.  Popped into a very large, but empty feeling Nisa supermarket and stock up with food – especially it being Sunday tomorrow.

The headwinds were really really hurting now – today felt so tough and my legs were suffering.

I reached Nunton Steadings where there is a nice tea room – so felt a little better – but it was only temporary!

Passed a large, washed up cylinder – I did not take a photo as it is now covered in graffiti and a real blot on the landscape – needs to be moved.  But here’s a photo of it when it originally washed u.

I past the campsite at Linacleit and was very tempted to stop as I was shattered – but I wanted to push onto Howmore as they was a bike repair shop there and I wanted to see if I could pick up a new spoke.  But the remaining miles were very very tough.  I did not stop to walk up to the huge statue at Our Lady Of The Isles – I was so shattered.

There is military hardware dotted all over this area to track the missiles etc. – bit of an eyesore.  Sadly there was no activity scheduled this week – would have been great to see a missile launch!

Finally, I reached the hostel at Howmore – again, it was very good with great facilities and good camping.  The hostel warden is the wife of the bike repair man and once I had pitched my tent, I nipped up to see if he was there (sadly, I had seen his van going the other way earlier!).  He wasn’t there, but I was to pop back later and see if he could fix me up.

Howmore is an interesting place with plenty of chapels – there appear to be at least 5 on this site, possibly dating back to the 6th century. I had a wander around the chapels and then went back up to see the man at Am Rothan Cycles -  he was a very nice guy, but sadly he did not have any spokes short enough (because the bike has an Alfine hub gear and quite deep rims).  But he thought if I had managed the past few days okay without it losing much true, then I’d probably be fine.  It’s a shame he couldn’t rescue me – but I have read several accounts of him helping people out and really going above and beyond the call of duty with repairs.

I rode back to the hostel and cooked up some dinner before wandering down to the beach (about 10 minutes walk from the hostel).  Lovely sunset and skies and very enjoyable.

I got back to the tent and realised how much I was enjoying this whole experience.  I was actually not looking forward to spending my next two nights in a hotel.  I had decided to go with a hotel many weeks ago when I was planning the trip – Barra has no official campsites.  But now I had much more experience with camping here, I would have been happy to wildcamp and there were several good sites I had heard about.  I had thought originally, that going into a hotel would feel like a real treat after many nights under canvas, but now it felt like my freedom was going to be taken away.  I did not feel I could really cancel the room, so I guess I will have to see what it’s like with a roof over my head!  And things like TV and other strange things!

Read aboutday 10 here!

Outer Hebrides trip Day 8 – Leverburgh to Rushgarry – 48.31 miles

It rained quite a bit overnight, but I couldn’t hang around as I was going to get the first ferry across to Berneray and onto North Uist.

There was another cyclist staying at the hostel and he was getting the ferry as well.  He was a retired German gentleman – he was spending a number of weeks in Scotland traveling between hostels mainly by bus (you can put your bike on a bus apparently!) and then cycling around the local areas.

As the ferry was leaving, I saw the Sea Harris guys and their boat (Enchanted Isle) preparing another trip – they go to other islands as well (the Shiants in particular), so they might not have been going to St. Kilda.  Wherever they were heading, it was going to be wetter and choppier than yesterday’s trip!

The ferry was somewhat slower than the Enchanted Isle.  It’s only a short crossing (about an hour), so I settled down with a local paper and my book.  I was amused that one of my friend’s bands was headlining a music festival in Stornoway in a week or so.  Wish I had been able to hook up – I sent Jon a text and he replied that another friend was also in the Outer Hebrides and was planning to go to the show.

We landed at Berneray – a small island now joined to North Uist via a huge causeway.  The hostel I was staying at was only about 2 or 3 miles away from the ferry terminal, and I had originally planned to drop my bags there and then do a loop of North Uist before coming back to the hostel to camp.  For whatever reason, I thought I would now prefer to keep my options open and headed over the causeway onto North Uist

The earlier rain was clearing – so I felt pretty optimistic for the day.  I hadn’t eaten breakfast – so my plan was to circle the island clockwise, stopping at Lochmaddy for breakfast.

One of the first things of interest I saw was Dun An Stior – a broch in the middle of a loch.  This was a great defensive position obviously.  There would have been causeways linking the broch with the land etc.  This was the heart of a sizable community.

As I rode on, I noticed that my cycle computer wasn’t indicating whether I was faster or slower than my current average speed.  Upon investigation, the average speed had stopped working!  It now just showed E – I had never ridden so far on one trip before, so I don’t know if it is a problem with that.  It happened at about 313 miles and 27 odd hours of riding – the trip hour counter does only go up to 9 hours 59 minutes 59 seconds – but it seemed to be working fine up until then reporting an average of something around 11.3-5 mph.  Oh well – not a big drama – the mile counter still worked and that was of more interest to me.  I could always work out average speed at the end easily enough.

North Uist is definitely far more sparsely populated than Lewis and Harris (and they weren’t exactly jam-packed!).  It feels very much more remote.  The roads were fantastic – like being in an American road movie with the road going in straight lines for miles and miles – you could see it stretching off into the distance.

I arrived into Lochmaddy pretty hungry indeed.  The town is not that pretty and is dominated by the ferry port over to Skye really.  However, there is a fantastic arts centre there with a great cafe – where I feasted on cheese and ham toasties and the wickedly sweet Malteser and white chocolate cake!  There were some interesting exhibits in there and whilst I am not one for heavy duty art, the video piece with the polar bear watching the sunset in Uist was amusing (it wasn’t a real polar bear – it was someone in a polar bear costume.  I wouldn’t be keen on cycling around the island if there were real polar bears roaming free).  They were advertising their forthcoming Andy Goldsworthy exhibition – and if you happen to be in North Uist between 6th September and 28th November, then I think it will be well worth seeing as his work is inspirational.

As I left the cafe, I saw the yellow VW camper family coming into the car park – gave them a wave.

On I went towards Clachan.  You pass the burial cairn at Langass along the way – and this really is a massive impressive structure.  It is a 5000 year old communal  burial chamber.  It is one of the oldest standing buildings in Europe.  Standing is a strong term – it’s a bit of a jumble!  You can still clearly see the entrance and peer into it – the passageway looks good and safe and you could crawl in, but it is highly advised against in every guidebook I read.  I decided not to risk it – particularly on my own in the middle of nowhere!

I reached Clachan where there’s a pretty good shop.  Picked up more food and drank a can of diet coke outside with another cyclist (there were two other cyclists on the other bench – so four cyclists in total – a record for this trip!).  John was from the Isle Of Man and doing the same trip as me, but south to north.  He, too, was planning to stay on Berneray tonight.  He set off and I finished my can of drink.  I caught up with him, and the other two cyclists and passed them all on a climb.

The scenery was magnificent, great beaches, lots of machair.  There are also some sections of forest – not seen many trees over the past week, so quite unusual!  The winds were getting pretty tough though.

I rode on for a while and then stopped for lunch at a lovely little beach in Hosta.  The council (I guess) had gone to the trouble of putting picnic tables near the beach – trouble is the sand had blown up and the seat of the bench was now at ground level – so not very comfy!

As I was getting ready to move on the two cyclists I had passed earlier pulled down the lane and onto this beach – they were planning to camp at Berneray hostel as well – though were now considering wild camping on one of the beaches.

Coming round the north of the island there were more great beaches and some beautiful blackhouses.  Finally I reached Solas where there is a surprisingly large Co-Operative.  I bought food and the paper before heading on and back to Berneray.

I caught up with John again and we rode together to the hostel.  Berneray is a beautiful island and worth the trip.  Apparently, our future king, Charles, loves it there and has come and lived in a croft house as a crofter with only the locals and Buckingham Palace being aware of it.  We reached the hostel and it really was in a great location.  The hostel itself was two thatched cottages and there was plenty of space to camp.  I elected to go higher up and next to the beach – hoping that the midges would be less vicious up there.

It was a pretty decent end to the day, so I sat and read the paper, drank tea and watched little birds (could be plovers, I am rubbish with identifying stuff though) running up and down the sea front in groups.  Sometimes they would run in a line following each other and sometimes they’d run in a line next to each other – they reminded me of the police when they are conducting a fingertip search!

The location really is fantastic and my midge gamble seemed to pay off – there were not many up where I was, but when I went down to the hostel to do my washing up they were swarming away outside the hostel door – you had to run through a thick black cloud of them to get in!

The german guy and John were both in there, so chatted for a while.  The lady who is the hostel warden came over, so paid the bill etc.  She was chatting with someone about the re-thatching of the hostel.  Currently, the roof had a load of batons on it, but no thatch.  Apparently, it was meant to have been done last year and had been prepared, but then the crop of the rush (I think) they use had not been good enough, so they were waiting to see if this year’s crop was better.  It made me think about how connected to the land and nature you are here.  Typically, within reason, we now expect to be able to get what we want, when we want if we have money – but here was a lifestyle that relied on far simpler principles and I liked the idea.  Rather than getting worked up about it or getting the crop from somewhere further afield, they’d just wait another year (I suppose they can not wait indefinitely, but still).  I work with the insanely demanding super-rich for a living – I would love to see their reaction to the concept of a crop not being good enough.

I sprinted past the midges back to my tent and went to bed with a real soft spot for this little corner of the islands.

Read about day 9 here!

Outer Hebrides trip Day 7 – St. Kilda – 0 miles (on the bike)

Boy oh boy, was I excited when I got up this morning – I was going to St Kilda!

I don’t know how long I had known of St. Kilda – but it felt like somewhere I had always been aware of and this was just too good an opportunity to miss.  Although it was quite expensive (£160 for the day), it really is a unique place that not many people get the chance to visit.

For those who are not aware of St. Kilda, it is a group of small islands and sea stacks about 45 west of North Uist.  The islands have been inhabited, on and off, for many 1000s of years.  Their isolation led to distinct customs and even unique animal species.  The most recent islanders lived mainly by catching seabirds for food and enjoyed a tough existence on this island on the edge of the world.  After many people leaving, the final 36 people asked to be evacuated in the 1930s and the island was abandoned.  It is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site for both cultural and natural interest.  The islands are now owned by The National Trust for Scotland and are the ultimate getaway.

There is plenty of information here and here.

After a good hearty bowl of porridge and a cup of coffee, a quick shower and then I wandered down to the pier.  I turned up about 7:45 and Angus was there – but no boat!  He explained that his boat (which is in it’s first season and cost over £400000!) hit something on the way back last night and had broken it’s propeller.  He was awaiting a spare part and the boat was going up on a slipway later that day.

My heart sank – but then he explained that his old boat (which he’d sold to the guys at Sea Harris) was luckily not out that day, so Seamus and Coinneach of Sea Harris was going to take us that day.  His old boat sat the same number of people (12) but is not as large or powerful as his new boat, but it was perfectly fine by me.

We all boarded – it was an interesting bunch of people, a couple of Japanese tourists, some locals, a couple of Danish students, other people traveling around the isles.

Off we went into beautiful sunshine.  I was rather pleased to see the sea was looking very flat.  I am not a great sailor and was worried that the 3 hour trip would be very tough.  I had taken some anti-sickness pills but still I know how easily I can get ill.  We gently left Leverburgh and passed a series of little islands.  Some of them had seals relaxing in the sunshine.

As we left the Sound Of Harris, Seamus opened up the taps and got the boat up to speed – the 700HP engine could easily make the boat cruise at about 17-18 Knots.

The trip was very smooth and I enjoyed the sun as we all hung out on the back deck of the boat (near the back is also where the boat is moving the least, so minimised risk of sea sickness).

After about an hour and three quarters, a very, very small hump was visible on the horizon.  This was the first sighting of the islands.  But we still had another hour or so to go!  The journey was interrupted by a school of common dolphins joining us for a brief while – it was great to see them jumping in and out of our wake.  Sadly, I could not get a photo of them.  There’s an awful lot of marine life in these waters and they regularly see basking sharks, minke whales, killer whales (orca) and a whole range of dolphins.  Today would hopefully be a good day to see whales as the sea was so flat.

The islands got bigger and bigger until you could start to make out the different islands – there are three major islands in St. Kilda – Hirta (the largest and the one where people had lived), Soay and Boreray.  There are also several sea stacks including Stac Lee and Stac An Armin (the tallest sea stack in the UK at 196 metres).

Finally, we came towards Hirta and Village Bay.  There was a beautiful sailing boat in the bay – this is used for a three day trip to islands (one day out, stay on-board, one day on the island, one day back – all fully catered etc.).  There was also a reminder of just how harsh this spot is with the wreck of the Spinningdale lying on it’s side in the bay – this ran ashore in February and made headlines around the world with the fear of rats getting onto the island and destroying the bird colonies.  It’s now been drained of fluids and will, hopefully, be salvaged next year as it is a little bit of a blot on the landscape and not so good for the UNESCO status!

We dropped anchor and headed to the jetty in a small dinghy (the boat can not come alongside the jetty to eliminate the risk of rats getting from larger boats to the island) and were then met by Bill Shaw the National Trust Warden.  He gave us a quick introduction to the island and explained a few things – there were a few areas we could not visit as there is a quite large military presence on the island.  I was pleased that there are now toilets on the island that can be used by visitors (my guide book had said that this was not the case!).  He explained about a whole load of temporary fencing around the island – this was because there were 16 academics studying the soay sheep on the island.  Soay sheep are an ancient breed and represent a window into early domesticated animals.  They are a lot smaller than sheep we see on the mainland and there were poeple measuring them, studying their behavior etc.  The ranger seemed to take delight in tales of these highly qualified academics running around catching sheep!

The weather was superb – really quite hot and sunny indeed.

After hearing from Bill, we were allowed to do our own thing for the next 5 or 6 hours.  People obviously had different priorities and some people went straight off towards the bigger hills (Connachair is the tallest hill on the island) whilst others headed into the village.  I headed towards the village – via the cliffs where it was possible to photograph Spinningdale properly.

The first site is the store house and gun.  The store was used to store feathers – this was one of the ‘currencies’ the islanders used to pay their rent to the landowner.  The gun was built in the First World War to protect the island from attack by U-Boat (the island was shelled in 1918 to try and destroy the radio masts).

From the store, you pick up the street and walk towards the Kirk (church) and schoolroom.  Both were very plain and simple buildings – inside and out.

The street is a fascinating mix of new and old buildings.  The newer houses were built in the 1860s and replace the older blackhouses.  Of these newer houses, National Trust working parties have re-roofed 6 of them and made them habitable for people working on the island.  You can not go into these houses (as they are in use by the sheep counters as their living quarters), but you can go into any of the abandoned houses – both the blackhouses and the new houses.  Inside many of the houses are plaques showing who lived there at the point of final evacuation in 1930 – it’s moving to see the names and think of the many generations of these families who’d lived on the island.  Tellingly, most of the plaques indicate that there were not many men left on the island at the time of evacuation.

One thing that quickly strikes you are the cleits.  These are storage buildings and look like small blackhouses – they were used to store the birds they’d hunted, ropes, wood (very rare commodity!), peats etc.  There are around 1300 cleits on the island – and they are everywhere.  Even as you look up onto the horizon of the large hills, you see them.  Each family might own around 30-50 cleits and it was the owner’s responsibility to make the cleit stock-proof.  If a sheep got into your cleit and died, you had to pay the owner compensation.

The islanders menfolk would meet in the street each morning (except Sunday) to discuss what work needed doing that day.  By necessity it was a very co-operative lifestyle.

There’s a museum in one of the restored houses with lots of information on life on St. Kilda – truly fascinating.  I finished my walk up the street and decided to head towards the Gap or Saddle – this is the bit between Conachair and Oiseval hills and is good for views of the village and looking over towards Boreray.  There were dozens of cleits up there still.  The views of the village were incredible.  The cliffs even here at the saddle were very high – nothing compared to those around the back of Conachair – something like 427 metres high – the highest cliffs in the UK.  I sat in the sun and ate my lunch looking down on the village – it was a very enjoyable experience indeed.

After lunch, I headed down the hill and towards the other side of the island towards Dun.  There were lots of the soay sheep here and it must have been a lot of fun chasing them again here!

I walked up towards the Mistress Stone – one of two locations where the men of the island would show off their balancing skills in order to impress potential wives.  I didn’t fancy trying it myself!

Time on the island was running out, so I wandered down to the little shop – there were lots of great books there, but I was not able to buy any due to lack of room on the bike – I will order them on Amazon when I get home.

We got back on the boat with a cup of tea and some ginger cake waiting for us (ginger is good for sea-sickness).

In the harbour at this point was a RIB - apparently, you can get from Lochmaddy (in North Uist) to St Kilda in an hour and a half.  I did not fancy that idea at all – RIBs are pretty scary and bumpy!

We set sail to what was promised to be even more exciting than being on Hirta – must be good!  So we sailed towards Boreray via Stac Lee (a massive sea stack) and Stac An Armin (the tallest sea stack in the UK) – both of which have enormous gannet colonies.  Both of these stacks were visited by the islanders to collect birds.  There were bothies on both stacks.  In 1727 a group of 10 men and boys ended up getting stranded on Stac An Armin for 9 months!  The reason was that the entire population of Hirta had died of smallpox whilst they were on their (planned) 2 week stay on the stack.  There are 74 man-made structures recorded on Stac An Armin – but it looked like a horrific place to stay for any length of time!

The birds were so noisy and there were millions of them flying around.  Even on this relatively calm day, the swell near the stacks was huge.  We went around the back of Boreray and there were hundreds of puffins sat on the sea and diving down for fish – amazing sight!

We headed back towards Leverburgh.  The trip back was a little rougher and a couple of people were ill.  I did not feel great – but was not ill.  I spent time chatting with one of the Danish girls who was doing a PhD in Edinburgh on the ecology of the machair – so she gets out to the Hebrides 6 or 7 times a year!  Coinneachtold us about all the whales and so on he’d see over the years sailing around the Hebrides.  It really is incredible how much marine life is out there.  Sadly, today we weren’t being lucky.

I do have to say I felt very emotional leaving the islands – but I also knew I would have to come back some time in my life.  I am already thinking about applying to go on a work party on the island which would mean 2/3 weeks on the island helping with refurbishing the houses etc.  That really would be a great escape from the world!

The day really was unforgetable and the islands will probably haunt me for the rest of my life.  I got back to my tent very tired, slightly sun-burnt and terribly happy.  Today will undoubtably be the highlight of the trip – it has been a highlight of my life really!

Read about day 8 here!

Outer Hebrides trip Day 6 – Rhenigidale to Leverburgh – 49.04 miles

A great morning promising sunshine.  However this of course meant the midges were out in force again.  So after a quick shower, I very quickly struck camp and headed off.  The fast descent into Rhenigidale meant that my first job of the morning was climbing out of there.  It was tough, but not as tough as coming in (and I don’t think that is just because I was fresh compared to the previous night).  On the road out of Rhenigidale is a phone box – it amused and impressed me that BT maintain these boxes in the middle of nowhere (most of them don’t accept cash anymore, so I guess that BT really don’t need to visit that often now).  The logos on the phonebox were the old T ones – this was phased out (as I looked up when I got home (I am that sad!!)) in 1991 in favour of the piper logo (himself now phased out).

The descent towards Tarbert was very fast and steep – I saw cyclists at the bottom heading up.  Rather them than me!  Right at the bottom of that descent (I missed the turning with the speed I was doing) is a turn off towards Huisinis – this is meant to be a beautiful road and I wish I had time to cycle down every road, but I didn’t – however, I did want to see the whaling station at Bunavoneader (Bun Abhainn Eadarra) so I quickly flicked round and headed about a mile down this road.  The whaling station is an interesting spectacle – there’s not much to see other than a large chimney and the ramp where the whales would be dragged onto land to be butchered.  I don’t know much about the UK’s whaling industry and there is potential there for some kind of information centre or something.

On towards Tarbert.  I had promised myself a fry-up breakfast (assuming, of course, that there would be somewhere to have one) as I hadn’t eaten anything this morning in my desire to get away from the midge hell of Rhenigidale!  The midge risotto of last night had not been that filling either – so I was hungry!  The last three miles into Tarbert seemed to take forever.  I arrived and quickly saw that it was not a very exciting place – however, it did have several good things including a cash machine (first one I had seen since Stornoway) and a tea room.  Sadly, the tea room did not open until 10:30 – so I went to look in the tourist information office and also got some much needed funds from the bank!

The First Fruits Tearoom in Tarbert is a little gem – I enjoyed a great breakfast there (and reminded myself how much I like good black pudding!) including the first good coffee of the trip (other than those made on my own espresso maker!).  Thoroughly enjoyed that breakfast – oh, and the fresh orange juice was good as well!

The guy from the family I had seen near Uig beach popped in to get a coffee and a cyclist who’d stayed at Rhenigidale also had his breakfast there.

Great breakfast – set me up for the day!  Finished up and popped into the grocers to get lunch etc. before setting off.

I caught up with the guy who’d been in the hostel – he was a teacher from Portree in Skye, we rode together for a while – he was a nice guy with plenty of good advice on the islands.  We parted ways as I wanted to visit Luskentyre (Losgaintir) as it was meant to be a fantastic beach.  I was not disappointed by the beach at all.  It really was beautiful – blue sea, mountains in the distance and white sands – spectacular.  I walked along the beach and it was easy to imagine that one was in the Caribbean or something!  The sun was even out nicely now.  This beach is a real treasure and would be great to spend time on if you had kids etc.  It was not crowded at all – and a few people were swimming in that clear sea.

The rest of the trip towards Leverburgh was very pretty – I had elected to take the west coast (this was the main route down to Leverburgh) rather than the east coast (known as The Bays).  The ride around the Bays was a backup plan for tomorrow if I did not get to St. Kilda – though the weather appeared to be on my side for now!  There is more camping in Harris than is generally advertised – one could camp at what looked like a good site at Horgabost and there was some camping in the Bays for sure.  There were great sections of dunes and beaches – very pretty indeed.

Leverburgh is a nice little town.  The supermarket was pretty well stocked – I picked up some further anti-midge protection – a citronella candle and some bog Myrtle stuff that is supposed to keep them off.  I caught up with the white VW camper family in the supermarket – they’d camped at the Uig site last night rather than Kneep and said it was great.  They could not believe I was on a bike as they had first chatted with me only a day and a half ago and about 100 miles away.  It is funny how you see people time and time again – there was a family in a yellow VW camper who I had first noticed on the ferry from Ullapool – the dad wore short shorts in all weather and did not look like the kind of man who would paint flowers on his yellow VW camper – but you never can tell!  I had seen them again in Shawbost and Calanais.  I guess people follow similar routes whether they are in cars or on bikes.  The car people just have a little more time to do stuff than cyclists who have to sit on the bike for several hours a day to go the 50 miles or whatever.

I went to the bunkhouse I was staying at – and was mighty impressed.  Ruari (the owner) has done a great job with this place and I can highly recommend it in every way – I camped, but the bunk rooms looked great as well.  It was very colourful inside with lots of interesting bits of shipwrecks on the walls and built into the design.  The Am Bothan website is here.

I decided not to pitch my tent quite yet as the weather was still pretty good – but I ate a little sandwich.  At this point there was a quite heavy shower – hopefully this was not a bad sign for my St. Kilda trip tomorrow!  Anyway – the rain stopped, so I left my bags at the bunkhouse and headed towards Rodal (Roghadal) to see St Clement’s church.  It was the first time in nearly a week that I’d ridden the bike without bags – boy did it feel funny and almost wrong!  It felt horribly twitchy.  Weird how quickly you get used to a sluggish, heavy monster!

The church is fascinating – it almost grows out of the stone and is one of the most impressive churches on the islands.  It is quite eerie inside as it is completely empty – no pews or anything.  There is the mid 16th century grave one of the MacLoeds designed for himself about 20 years before he died – very impressive indeed.

I headed back to Leverburgh (hitting a highly irresponsible 42.3 mph on the way back – I’d previously kept my speeds under about 35 mph due to the weight of bags and the thought of stopping it).

I needed to get a bag for St. Kilda – you have to carry everything you need for the day (food, clothes etc.) as there’s nothing there.  I could have taken a pannier – but it’d have been a pain.  Anyway, a weird little shop/post office supplied me with a lovely cloth bag – it was so tacky, but it was the best I could do……

Pleased with my purchase and looking forward to being the most stylish person on the trip, I returned to the bunk house and pitched my tent.  There was a group of divers staying at the bunkhouse and they had caught some great looking crayfish – it was a bit distressing to watch them kill it in the kitchen – but I guess that’s nature!

I managed to charge my phone and camera batteries and also called the people running the St Kilda trip (Kilda Cruises) and they confirmed that the trip was going ahead.  I was so excited!  I had to ring my mum as she’d sent me a nice text saying she was crossing her fingers that I would get there!

So I made my dinner and then prepared sandwiches etc. for the next day.  It was going to be an early start (8 am leaving the pier), so I went to bed.  I did, however, get up in the night to use the loo and was reminded that there are a LOT of stars out there.  It was a near full moon, and the skies were clear and I could see thousands of stars – incredible.  I stood out there looking up for a few minutes and realised that we do miss so much living in cities.  In London, you’re lucky to spot half a dozen bright stars due to the light pollution.  Amazing!

Read about day 7 here!

Outer Hebrides trip Day 5 – Kneep to Rhenigidale – 54.6 miles

Woke up to a beautiful sunny day – much better than yesterday.  Sadly, the wind was back!

The ride back along the B8011 was just as enjoyable as the ride in yesterday – staggering scenery.  I was rather hoping that I’d have a tail wind for part of it (having battled in horrendous head winds yesterday), but it seems that the wind was not on my side and decided to give me a fight back along the road.

I reached the main road after about 18 miles and headed towards the south of Lewis.  This really was all very remote – very little traffic and truly remote.  I stopped for lunch and enjoyed one of the best pies I have ever eaten – Stag Bakeries Steak Pie – delicious!

The scenery was magnificent and very desolate.  There were not many houses or villages.

At Balallen, there was a great memorial to the Deer Park Raiders – a very interesting tale indeed.

Somewhere on this road (and I still don’t really understand where the border is), I reached Harris!  So, goodbye Lewis, you’ve been great!

Just after Scaladale, I stopped to admire the view and take in the view of An Cliseam (the tallest peak on the Outer Hebrides at 799 metres).  Setting off, things got a bit more vertical and the climb out of there was long and tough.  However, after reaching the top and descending slightly, I could see my next challenge!  The road to Rhenigidale looked terrifyingly steep!  However, first I admired the views of Loch Shiphoirt – truly awesome.

Turning off the main road, I descended a very scary bit of single track – all good fun!  But, then the fun stopped – the climb up over to Rhenigidale was brutal.  Tiny little road and ever so steep at points.  This really was tough after a long day.  Finally I got to the top and then another descent into the village.

Rhenigidale is remote to say the least.  It’s about 5 miles to the nearest village and access by road only became possible in 1987.  Prior to this, it was only accessible by sea or walking about 6 miles cross-country.  It’s a tiny little village – less than 10 properties.  One of these is the Gatliff trust hostel and it’s a really great getaway location.  Very basic hostel, but ideal.  The camping space is very limited indeed – there’s really only room for 1 small tent – so luckily, it was not occupied and I was able to pitch my tent.  I wandered about the hills for a while before returning to the hostel.

I decided to have a look over the bike and found I’d broken a spoke on my rear wheel – I thought I had heard something when I’d stopped at Scaladale – it sounded like I’d got a stone under the tyre and it had pinged out from underneath.  I’ve never broken a spoke in my life and here I was in the most remote part of the island without a spare.  I was rather worried about it all as I thought more spokes might pop now this one had gone.  Luckily my bike has disc brakes so the slight kink in the trueness of the wheel would not affect braking.  I loosened off the two adjacent spokes just a touch to even out the kink a little.  Oh well.

Things then got hellishly worse.  Rhenigidale appears to be the midge capital of the islands.  I have never seen anything like it.  My dinner had more midges in it than it had risotto!  I could hardly leave the tent and, at times, they sounded like rain hitting the flysheet of the tent so hard!

I appear to be very tasty to the average midge and get bitten a lot – luckily, they do not itch me much once I have been bitten, just give me the little round red spots.

I really was a prisoner in my own tent and it was a pretty miserable night – compounded with slugs crawling up the inner of the tent – and slugs really are my least favourite thing.  Overall the camping at Rhenigidale is pretty poor.  It is a tiny spot and the midges and slugs are too much.  I wish I had stayed in the hostel that night.

I was even more amazed when a group of german campers turned up and pitched their two little tents on what must seriously be a 40 degree slope!  How they slept I will never know, but I guess the hostel was full – certainly seemed to be a lot of people there.

I went to sleep feeling a little dissapointed with it all – broken spoke, crappy camping, midges etc.  But, I hoped tomorrow would be better!

Read about day 6 here!