Day 7: Should've taken the low road.

Today was the best day yet. Another epic day in the Scottish countryside with 5000 ft of climbing thrown in for good measure.

I was out riding by 10am, leaving the rather eccentric Greenacres Guesthouse near Cumbernauld after a full cooked breakfast, cereal, melon, a fruit corner, two rounds of toast and coffee.

I took a ring road around the town which I soon realised was a three-lane A road - a road that was a motorway in all but its name. I shouldn't really have been cycling on it but a mile of roadworks slowed the traffic to 40 miles an hour and with a tailwind and the slip stream of all lorries I was able to sprint along at 27mph. I turned off at the next junction and headed north for Sterling.

The weather forecast said the wind would be coming from a west-north-westerly direction but it seemed to propell me along anytime I was heading vaguely west.

I shot through Denny and Dunipace on the A872 and was in Sterling before I knew it. I by-passed the town centre on a ring road which was a shame because Sterling is a charming place to visit, full of ancient buildings and historical reminders. I carried on to the Bridge of Allan, missing my proposed lane and instead I headed for Dunblane on the B8033. This carried me to Braco at which point the gradient started rising.

The first considerable hill of the day came as I took a shortcut from the A822 along a lane to the village of Muthill. The climb wasn't too severe and it rewarded me with a dead straight descent into the village.

I came to a T-junction and, caught up in the excitement of my 40mph descent, turned right and plodded up hill for three miles. It was only when I saw some confusing road signs that I realised I'd been travelling in the wrong direction.

Cursing my misfortune I at least had a three mile downhill back to Muthill.

Just before lunch the biggest climbs of the day came. The A822 from Crieff took me to Glen Almond on a road that ran between several valleys. The scene was the stuff of Geography lessons. The valley looked exactly like it had been carved by a glacier. The first climb was fairly straightforward, and I had the assistance of a tailwind. Unfortunately the downhill on the other side was straight into the wind so I had to pedal hard to even reach 15mph.

Turning left for Achnafaud I was aiming for Kenmore, eight miles away. I was now in the wilds of Scotland, which was obvious from the amount of roadkill on the road. Dead foxes, pheasants and rabbits created a gory fur-rug effect on the roads. I also saw more sheep than I've ever seen before. The lambs ran every time I passed them but the older sheep would stop chewing grass and look up at me with what seemed like pity in their eyes. It was as if they were saying "what are you doing up here, sweating and panting like that?". There were a few brief moments when I thought the same.

The journey to Kenmore was the hardest part of the day, straight into a headwind and climbing up a monster hill with several hairpin switchbacks. What a relief at the top. I sped down the descent knowing that lunch was waiting several hundred feet below.

In Kenmore after 66 miles I met Helen at the oldest Inn in Scotland and we dined in some style on Haggis and East Coast Broth (which was remarkably the same as Clam Chowder). We both wanted to stop for dessert but I was conscious of the time getting on so we left at 3.30pm.

The rest of the afternoon was mostly taken up by similar mountain passes on singletrack roads as I headed north past Loch Tummel and through Trinafour and Glen Errochty. These mountain passes were real lung-busters and made me very glad of my hill training in Bristol. Each came with a three-mile descent (each time out of the wind) which was worth all the pain of the ascent.

I came back to relative civilisation on the A9 dual carriageway but I began heading west again and my speed came down to a very slow 13mph. I had no fight left against the wind. I was running out of food, feeling very cold and a strange cold sweat came over me. I was beginning to hit the wall.

I ate some shortbread biscuits but they didn't help whatsoever. With 18 miles still to go and very little in the way of shops up ahead I was reluctant to eat my remaining cereal bar. I plodded on for another two miles but realised I had no choice. I ate the bar and hoped the chocolate would give me a boost.

At this point the road turned slightly and I think the gradient levelled out (or Alpen bars have magic properties) because I started getting a bit faster. First 17mph, then 20mph, then I got caught in the slipstream of some big lorries and I was flying along at 27mph. I tucked myself into my time trial bars and the miles started flying by. I was crossing my fingers that the gradient would stay flat and the tailwind would continue. With some considerable luck it stayed that way for the remaining 15 miles, during which time my speed didn't drop below 20mph.

After more than 30 minutes in the time trial position, plus the effort of 108 miles and 5000 ft of climbing my legs were screaming and my back was tense and sore. I rode into the car park of our evening campsite, jumped off the bike and lay flat out on the grass for a full five minutes as my body unwound.

Today was one of the hardest but most enjoyable day's riding I've ever done. The 108 miles took me 7 hours in total, with a slow average speed of 15.4mph. I didn't care at all though. The ride put me on a high all evening.

Penultimate day tomorrow and there's a lot more downhill than uphill so I'm celebrating by having a beer tonight.

Songs of the day: Today was a day for being 'in the zone'. I needed something fast and loud to keep out the noise of my heavy breathing up those hills. I listened to a albums by Reuben and Metallica for most of the day. My t-shirt with cut-off sleeves will be arriving in the post anyday now...