Day 11 - In to the Lochs

We woke up at the ungodly hour of 630 and stumbled, bleary eyed, to catch the first ferry north out of Arran. Todays ride to Glencoe promised to be the longest of the fortnight at something between 95 to 100 miles.

The previous days soaking had dampened the spirits somewhat and we all sat in silence during the thirty minute crossing, contemplating the day ahead.

Little did we know, a fantastic, memorable day of riding lay ahead. While we didn't avoid the rain altogether, we stayed largely dry and were rewarded with coastal scenery that increased in grandeur the further north we headed.

Conscious of the distance, we ploughed on without stopping until the town of Oban, sixty miles in. After a quick lunch, the spongebob train hit town and we went all out with an adrenaline fuelled run over the last thirty.

The past few days have been a mixed bag, but its moments like these, riding with deep legs in surroundings so beautiful that you can hardly believe you're still in the uk, that remind you of what its all about.






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