My story of the Celtic Challenge
Be inspired by Phil Chester's experience of the Celtic Challenge in 2011.
Day One: 18 May
Having been given a rousing send-off by Hospice staff, friends and family our group of twenty-two riders had no option but to set off on this, the very first Celtic Challenge cycle to Iona. Led by our intrepid leader, Kevin, we made our way by Granton Square, West Granton Road (where we were greeted by an enthusiastic crowd of supporters from Telford College) and the promenade, to Cramond Village against a fairly brisk wind. Had we but known it, this was a harbinger of things to come over the next few days.
Undaunted, we carried on along Whitehouse Road until we turned down the steep hill to the old Cramond Brig (not the pub!) followed by another hard climb up to the Kirkliston road, en route for Linlithgow.
After a long, hard slog under a leaden sky and against a brisk wind we stopped for refreshment at Linlithgow. Here we joined Union Canal tow path which we followed to the Falkirk Wheel and a lunch of sandwiches and soup, courtesy of Harry.
The Falkirk Wheel is an impressive structure which raises boats from the Forth & Clyde Canal to the Union Canal by which means they can travel right into the heart of Edinburgh. It was built as part of the Millenium Project to re-open these two canals. The Wheel was formally opened by HM The Queen on 24 May 2002 - thus re-establishing the link between the two canals after a gap of 70 years.
After lunch we joined the Forth & Clyde Canal towpath which would eventually lead us to the heart of Glasgow and our first night's stop at the Pond Hotel.
Although the sun had come out, our progress towards Glasgow was hampered by a very strong wind. For me, the worst part of the journey was the long straight section at Dullatur Marsh, between Wyndford Bridge and Auchinstarry Marina, where the canal is very open with little or no shelter for walkers or cyclists. In my experience, there always seems to be a strong wind on this 3.5 mile stretch which, even in the relative comfort of a yacht, seems to go on and on for ever and ever!
Eventually we reached Stockingfield Junction where the Glasgow Branch of the canal heads off to Speirs Wharf. After waiting for the back-markers to catch up we had to leave the tow path, pass under a bridge carrying the canal over the road and climb back up onto the towpath on the other side. We then cycled down by the Maryhill locks towards Anniesland where we left the canal and made our way to the Pond Hotel. There the staff kindly provided a room in which to store our bikes.
After booking into the hotel I made a quick visit to see my new grand-daughter, Rose, who lives nearby, before returning for dinner. I was slightly miffed that the taxi driver who took me wouldn't believe that we had cycled from Edinburgh that day.
Day Two: 19 May
After a good night's sleep and a hearty breakfast we emerged to a cloudy sky and watery sunshine - still with a fairly strong breeze.
Leaving the hotel we cycled along the Great Western Road to Anniesland where we re-joined the Forth & Clyde canal for the start of our cycle to Crianlarich. Fortunately, this part of the canal is reasonably sheltered and we had no trouble in reaching our first stop at Bowling Basin in good time, passing under the Erskine Bridge on the way. Thereafter we continued on to Clydebank where we picked up the cycle way to Balloch.
Here we had a welcome drink and something to eat before picking up the West Loch Lomond Cycle Way. This track is largely separated from the main road up the loch's west side although in places it runs right alongside that road. Generally the surface was OK but in places it was very wet and running with surface water. It was on this stretch that I met my Waterloo!
About halfway to our Inverbeg lunch stop I managed to take a tumble on a very steep and wet 'blind' summit, removing a lot of skin from my left knee and cracking my head on the path's surface. Worried that someone might come over the rise and run into me I quickly got up, re-mounted my bike and carried on to Inverbeg. There I bathed and cleaned the wound and applied Micky's 'magic' Paw-Paw ointment (Yuppie Vaseline!). Fortunately, my helmet had taken the full force of the impact on the road although a large chunk had broken out of it. This was jury-rigged with parcel tape until I could find a new helmet. Had I not been wearing a helmet I fear that it would have been a case of 'For you, Tommy, ze var is over!'
After an excellent lunch we continued on our merry way to Crianlarich. Eventually the cycle way ended and we had to continue on the dreaded A82. This was a slightly tiresome part of the journey as the road is quite narrow and we were cycling through a steady downpour. Moreover, the rain was augmented by spray from overtaking vehicles which, it must be said, were less than kind to us at times.
Later the rain abated but to compensate for this good fortune we arrived at the bottom of the long, steep climb up Glen Falloch. This climb flatters to deceive in that just when you think you have reached the top another slope appears. However, eventually one does reach the top and can enjoy a swift descent into Crianlarich - where we booked into the Youth Hostel for our second night.
It is some time since I stayed in a Youth Hostel but I was pleasantly surprised by the facilities which were not quite as 'rustic' as I remembered. However, I still had a bit of trouble getting up into a top bunk! Before we repaired to the local Hotel for dinner, Kevin kindly drove me and Alastair up to Tyndrum to participate in 'The Great Helmet and Padded Underpants Safari'. Sadly, this was unsuccessful on both counts as both our quarries failed to materialise!
Dinner at the hotel proved to be a disappointment as they were apparently having a 'kitchen crisis' and had had to cobble something together at short notice. They no doubt tried to do their best but it was pretty uninspiring. And so to bed!
Day Three: 20 May
We emerged from the Youth Hostel to a heavy, louring sky and very moist atmosphere. In his briefing for the next leg along the A82 to Tyndrum, Kevin described the route as 'undulating' although, over the four days, we were to discover that this term covered a multitude of sins from 'gentle up and down' to 'get-off-and walk'!
The relatively short cycle to Tyndrum was fairly taxing as some of its 'undulations' were steeper than others. Also, the road was not overly wide, busy and definitely wet. At Tyndrum we gratefully left the A82 and turned onto the A85 for Dalmally. This road is generally wider, straighter and downhill, through the wonderful scenery of Glen Lochy. Sadly, we soon found that any advantage to be gained from the downhill gradient was more than nullified by a very strong wind blowing up the glen.
At our stop halfway down the glen we were engulfed by a squall of hail and freezing rain which drove a number of us to huddle together under the open tail gate of the support car - rather like a group of baby penguins on the Antarctic ice. Unfortunately, this huddle did not appear to have embraced the penguins' practice of continually rotating from inside to outside so that all get a chance to warm up! Thankfully the squall was fairly short-lived and the sun came out again. However, we were somewhat concerned to note that the adjacent mountains were sporting a covering of snow which seemed to be not all that far from road level! In May!
Continuing on we made the fantastic descent to Dalmally with dramatic views of Ben Cruachan and on to Loch Awe village where we had another stop beside St Conan's Kirk.
The Kirk
This small but impressive church was built by a Mr Walter Campbell between 1881 and 1886 to spare his elderly mother the tiring journey to Dalmally Church for her devotions. He was an amateur architect and inveterate 'tinkerer' who continued to add to the building, in various (unrelated) architectural styles, from 1907 until 1914 when he died and work stopped for the duration of the First World War.
After said war his sister, Helen, carried on with additions to the building until she died in 1927. The work was subsequently completed by the Kirk Trustees.
It is a charming and beautiful building set in a wonderful location on the banks of Loch Awe and well worth a visit. The materials for its construction were local stones, found on the hillside above and rolled down to be dressed by the stonemasons.
It was here that I met a kind American tourist who seemed very impressed by my injured knee and gave me a donation of 2 dollars. One of our ladies also received a donation of £10 from another tourist!
Who was St Conan?
The 'Catholic On-Line' website contains very sparse information, describing him as 'A bishop of Ireland, possibly from Scotland. It is believed that he taught St Fiacre before going to the Isle of Man where he served as a missionary and was consecrated bishop'.
It's only a personal theory but I'm convinced that St Conan must have been the Patron Saint of ice cream vendors. He probably wandered up and down the Bunessan road dispensing 99s, chocolate flakes and Cornettos to weary pilgrims making their way to Iona Abbey. The biscuit-like containers in which he served the ice cream became known locally as 'conans', later amended to 'cones'.
When he heard that the Abbot of Iona intended to impose a swingeing tax on his earnings, St Conan, like his ice cream, simply melted away - turning up later in the Isle of Man, at that time a sort of medieval off-shore tax haven! Clearly he was a man ahead of his time!
After this brief visit we set off for Taynuilt by way of the Pass of Brander, cycling through magnificent scenery with wonderful views down Loch Awe.
After lunch at the hotel in Taynuilt we set off on the next leg of our journey to Oban. Unfortunately, this entailed a sharp climb up to Glen Lonan on a B-minus, minus road with an execrable surface. I don't know about anyone else but I was definitely feeling the effects of our excellent lunch! To add insult to injury we were soaked by yet another sharp shower of rain and hail which, combined with a freezing wind, fairly dampened our ardour!
Once we had reached the top of this climb the glen almost levelled off and we experienced yet another variation of Kevin's famous 'undulations'. The sun emerged once more as we cycled through beautiful countryside with woods containing drifts of bluebells. It could have been a most enjoyable ride had it not been for the very strong and cold headwind which made cycling very hard work.
The further we went into this glen the more remote it seemed and one could almost have heard the strains of the 'Duelling Banjos' theme from 'Deliverance'. However, it might just have just been the wind as the local inhabitants did seem very friendly!
After an extremely exhausting cycle (and walk!), I eventually turned down Glencruitten and made the long descent into Oban. Here I was fortunate, in catching up with Micky who knew Oban well and led me, in bright sunshine, to the Royal Hotel. There we met Chas with the van wherein we deposited our bikes. Once I'd dumped my bags in the hotel I went to the local cycle shop and bought a much needed new helmet.
After a hot shower and a lovely dinner I unwisely stayed up late chatting in the bar, ignoring the fact that we had an excruciatingly early start the next morning.
And so to bed!
Day Four: 21 May
Having enjoyed an excellent breakfast we walked across to the ferry terminal through a 'smirr' of rain and boarded the boat for Mull. This gave us a brief chance to come fully awake before we had to mount our bikes and peddle our way to Iona.
Retrieving our bikes from the van at Craignure we set off for Salen under a heavy, sullen West Coast sky. This road, with one of Kevin's more benign series of 'undulations' and a strong tail wind enabled us to make good time.
To compensate for this we found at Salen that the 'smirr' of rain had gone up a few notches to become a continuous wind-driven shower. Also, the wind speed had increased significantly, probably to at least gale force (34-40 mph). Put more simply, Men-of -War (if there had been any handy at the time) would need to have been triple-reefed and seagulls would be walking!
Leaving soggy Salen behind we turned south-west onto the B8035 heading for the south shore of Loch na Keal. Cycling at first through the lush wooded area around Gruline, which indicated that heavy rain was not entirely unknown here, we were still buffeted by heavy squalls and rain. By now my shoes and gloves were full of water and my shorts saturated.
When we emerged from the (relative) shelter of the trees we were hit by the full fury of the storm. I estimated the wind speed to be in excess of 60mph (Men-of-War in port, crew in pub and seagulls still walking - with difficulty). The sky and sea appeared to have merged without any clear horizon and the dramatic mountain scenery of Ben More was shrouded in low cloud. At this point things for me became a bit of a blur. All I could hear was the constant roaring of the storm and the swish of the rain. At one point I hit a large pool of water which briefly engulfed me, sending a wave of freezing water up the legs of my shorts to meet the rain pouring off my anorak!
It was a struggle to keep going but we all did and gradually crept, ant-like, along the coast passing the islands of Eorsa and Inch Kenneth guarding the entrance to the loch. For a few lovely moments when we turned south at the headland opposite Inch Kenneth the storm was behind us and I seemed set to fly up the glen which would lead us over to Loch Scridain. Sadly, this hope was extinguished by the wind which suddenly came blasting down the glen like a banshee and stopped me in my tracks. So strong was the wind that it was even difficult to walk up the latest 'undulation' against it and I was very relieved indeed to come upon Chas in the van.
At this point a small group of us had congregated in the lee of the van which, incredibly, was in danger of being forced backwards down the slope by the gale - against its handbrake! As we were soaked and verging on the hypothermic we accepted, with alacrity, an invitation to go into the van for the rest of the way to Bunessan. Here we were able to find dry clothes from our overnight bags and gradually thawed out - all the time aware of the incessant rain beating against the front of the van like bullets.
We subsequently alighted from the van at the Pennyghael Store. As the adjacent hotel (our projected stop) was closed Chas had negotiated with the shop owner who had agreed to make relays of tea and coffee for us. She even let us use the top of her deep freeze to make up sandwiches! This store could justifiably be described as 'bijou' and as our beleaguered group arrived in dribs and drabs it quickly became an exercise in seeing how many sodden cyclists could be crammed into a small country store!
Our next stop was at Bunessan where we had a hot drink at the hotel before continuing on to Fionnphort and the ferry for Iona. As the vehicles were not crossing to Iona we wheeled our bikes onto the ferry for the short but bumpy crossing. Once ashore we dumped our overnight bags in the local restaurant and cycled up to the Abbey.
There, the custodians kindly waived the £5.50 entrance fee on the grounds that the Abbey was technically closed for the day. However, could it be that they were intimidated by the sight of the assorted black eyes, bloody knees and bashed noses which some of our motley band were sporting and wisely decided to make a tactical withdrawal? After all, they probably still have some very bad memories of the Vikings!
Here, under the ancient walls of this iconic building we had a glass of bubbly to celebrate the safe completion of our 200 mile cycle and were presented with medals and certificates.
Thereafter, the day (and outward trip) ended in the evening with a very convivial dinner.
Day Five: 22 May
As is often the case on the West Coast, the next day (Sunday) dawned with broken cloud, blue skies and bright sunshine. Iona was looking at its magnificent best at the very moment we were due to depart!
On leaving the Iona ferry and about to board the local bus for Craignure we were advised to have our return ferry tickets readily available. I realised that mine were in the pocket of yesterday's sodden shorts and had to make quick foray into the van to find it. I then contrived to lose it on the bus and suffered the ignominy of having it found again by an hairy American youth. Dark comments about nannies and minders (probably justified) from the seat in front did not go un-noticed - Diana/Edith! But, hey, I'm not one to bear grudges!
Our journey back to Craignure allowed us to see the dramatic scenery through which we had cycled and wonder at the beauty of the landscape which had appeared so inhospitable and intimidating on the previous day.
Picking up the waiting coach at Oban we set off for home. It was a great pleasure to travel with such a sociable and caring bunch of people. That's what made the event so enjoyable. On our arrival back at the Hospice many of us exchanged contact details so that hopefully we will keep in touch in the future.
Huge thanks must go to the Hospice and the organisers, Martin, Kevin, Chas, Harry and Alison for looking after us so well.
Phil Chester
June 2011
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