Day 12 08/08/07

Wednesday 8th August 2007. Leg 10: Penpont to Tarbolton via North Nowheresville (Map Ref 884944).

Bad kharma this morning as the enormity of Scotland looms ahead of us. Yes, we’ve done 600 miles. Yes, we’ve crossed the border to leave England behind. But today is a big psychological downer, for a number of reasons. Firstly, we’re losing a rest day. Secondly, I feel I’ve failed in my planning, as all my routes seem to have ended in the recycle bin. Thirdly, we threw in the towel last night 7 miles short of the campsite, which in itself was a minor defeat. But that’s compounded this morning by not being able to agree on where to re-start the cycling today.

I’m holding out for being taken back down the A76 to last night’s pick-up point. Georgina is not keen on that idea, and thinks we should just start at Thornhill,a few miles to the East of here. I can’t agree to that, as it would mean that we’d had too much assistance, and hence I’d feel we’d cheated. Besides there would be a 7-mile gap in Garmin’s tracklog, which would offend my obsessive compulsive nature. The argument continues with a massive falling out, where I finally say that if we’re going to do that, I’m ready to just call it a day and go home. (and I really mean it).

Jacky is doing her best to mediate, but I stomp off to the toilet block, to reflect. Mentally, Georgina and I have not quite ‘gelled’. Which is a great shame, as physically on the bikes it’s as though we’re joined at the hip. We both pedal with a similar cadence, we respond to road conditions alike, changing gear virtually simultaneously. And she has been great as my eyes and ears, warning me if I fail to notice anything dangerous ahead or behind.

When I return, the atmosphere seems to have improved, and everyone is much more in the mood to compromise. The middle path agreed upon is that we will cycle off the campsite, and do a little southward loop just to put in a few extra miles, without completely retracing our steps back to the original pick-up point. Everyone is mighty relieved. That iceberg just grazed us.

Meanwhile on the saddle front, the one which Jonathan brought over to Ainsdale is no more comfy than the Brooks (the damage is done). So I take the decision to swap saddles again. (“Zippin’ up my boots, Goin’ back to my Brooks, yeah” – Odyssey.)

All this kerfuffle means that we do not get away till 10:45. But, hey, we’ve now actually got a reasonable distance of about 47 miles to Tarbolton, in place of the originally planned implausible 80 to catch the last ferry to Bute. The only other fly in the ointment is that we have quite a climb ahead of us out of Galloway into Ayrshire.

Cakes in Thornhill after just 4 miles. We’re not exactly making immense progress. We see some cyclists heading south, possibly doing the JoGLE.
Georgina likes the monument, which has a big plinth and a spindly column, as though they ran out of dosh after the first 6 feet. I feel it’s a bit like the Stonehenge on Spinal Tap.

General trend of the road is upward. Six miles out of Thornhill we stop in a layby on the A76 next to the river Nith, and hey, Presto! Here comes Jacky. Beautiful river, beautiful day: plenty sun, and not much wind in evidence at the moment. Pity about the discarded Telly in the lay-by though. Really spoils the view somewhat. Nevertheless, old habits die hard, and we stand and watch it for a while, before remarking “There’s nothing on the Telly”. (“Broken Household Appliance, Natural Forest” – Grandaddy seems so very appropriate).

Roadkill is tending to be small mammals today.

At 13:45 ,we dined on bananas at Kirkconnel on a bench near the river, but you don’t want to know about that. At some point, we hit such rough road surfaces, that I decided to stop, and let some air out of our tyres, just to give a less bone-shaking ride. I knew that this may increase the chances of pinch-punctures, but I felt I would be able to justify this sop to passenger comfort should a Board of Trade enquiry be called.

Ayrshire border was reached at 15:00. Shortly after, bumped into Jacky reading Harry Potter in a lay-by. 23 miles done (half-way mark?)

Eventually you cruise along the A76 at an altitude of 700 feet, before gently descending to the lower lands of Ayrshire.

Cumnock toilet stop 17:00, very fine example of gents’ upright urinals in the Victorian style. Feel these ought to be featured on those ‘Cash in the Attic daytime programs. There must be a market for collectors in the U.S.A.

Turning West from the A76 toward Tarbolton, the road surfaces deteriorated, but there was more downhill to exult in. Last turning for the campsite took a long time to appear, though. Made landfall 18:45. Thus was our ‘rest day’ spent.

Weather notes: Wind still westerly. Sunny / cloudy / sunny. Georgina was hot / cold / hot, with cycling top off / on / off. Wind abated towards evening. Very pleasant.

A76 pretty good, not too busy, but some rough surfaces latterly.

After 45 miles in the saddle, you don’t have to walk like John Wayne, but it helps.

Distance covered: 44.2 miles
Moving time: 05:34
Average speed: 7.9 mph
Maximum speed: 26.5 mph.