When I thought of Scotland I usually reached for my hat and scarf reminded of past Saturday afternoons on the West stand in Murrayfield or sat in a cosy nook, feeling the burn in my throat as I greedily consume its most lucrative export.
What I didn't think about was cycling there.
I know that from Lands End to John O'Groats you have to go through this Celtic northland, but I viewed it as 'the grim bit at the end', where you might see the odd 'White walker'
About 5 years ago I was watching a Rapha Continental film called ASSYNT of which the title appeared to be scribed in some alien font.
I was immediately mesmerised by the savage beauty of this location and shivered on watching the riders, riding through the rain and sleet.
Clearly it was in Scotland but where I thought as I typed the letters A-S-S-Y-N-T.
On viewing the map I soon realised that it's far north west position was a long way away. Almost as close to Iceland than it is to London.I soon worked out that in the time it would take me to drive there I could fly to Denver, read a Novel or watch a full box set of Games of Thrones.
Dejected I resigned myself that this was another location for my bucket list, a list that was already close to capacity.
For the next five years I continued to watch the video.
Increasingly I felt like a vouyeur, too afraid to come out from behind the curtain.
This year, either by chance or fate, I was reading an article in The Daily Telegraph by Mark Beaumont. It was entitled 'The five places on earth every cyclist needs to visit'.
'He should know' I thought as I read the short, but obviously considered list.
To my surprise this area of Scotland was featured and encouragingly it was much closer than Argentina or Iran.
Impulsively I decided that I would go. I had to.
I reckoned I would need 5 days, two travel days and three cycling days - and so the research began.
It took little time at all to decide on three routes - They soon chose themselves with the Assynt, The Applecross Peninsula and The Isle of Skye.
Deciding when to go was the biggest dilemma.
With snow and winter storms still possible up until June, its unwise to go too early.
However with the midge season starting in late May, if you go too late you will provide an all you can eat buffet for 'Culicoides impunctatus'.
Being from Yorkshire Im used to weather and not blood letting.
I elected for the first week in May.
When it comes to trips away I could never be described as a light packer especially if I'm going to be cycling. I take a suitcase when I go away for the weekend, and regularly pay for extra baggage on holidays away.
Packing for Cycling in Scotland was a new experience altogether.
I viewed the video again for clues.
Despite the gorse being still in full bloom, they all wore hats and coats and glamoured by a fire The weather outlook was Variable with a capital 'V': Rain, Sleet, Snow, Sun, Wind, Warm and Cold. The only theme that appeared missing was descending domestic pets.
I was just grateful that I had a van and made a note for myself to leave enough room for the bike.
As I passed north of Perth into the Scottish Highlands the spring sun came out reflecting off the snow capped peaks. With little in the way of wind there was some warmth in the air.
I was a little concerned...... Had I driven into a black hole and emerged in southern Spain?
The sight of the Dalwhinnie Distilery soon eased my anxiety.
It took just over 3 hours to get to the Scottish border, but nearly 10 to arrive at Lochinver. Although I was technically in another country, it really felt very different, like a far flung territory.
Three of my fellow club members had been brave enough to take a chance, and come with me We took diner, excitedly talking about the days ahead fuelled by Whiskey and Haggis.
The sun remained out .............until well after we had retired.
Although there was no tour guide, the elements greeted us with a cheery smile.
The sort cyclists like.
You know......Sunshine, little wind, not too hot or cold.......just perfect, and so it was.
As you leave Lochinver you turn right and start climbing..........and climbing. Out of the valley towards Clachtoll. Once at the top you can see the Suilven to the South East with its distinctive domed appearance. As views go its up there with the best.
Steep up...................
Steep down and unrelenting.
The Chevrons warn you of whats ahead, but you have already worked it out.
Like the blade of a guillotine, its whats above you that often concerns you on a bike.
There was a disturbing familiarity that must have come from the numerous video viewings.
The recollection of the pained expressions, soon became familiar to me too.
Eventually we reached the A894 and started a long steady climb towards Loch na Gainmhich. After double digit purgatory, this imposing, endless climb was welcoming for me, even though the wind had now conspired to blow against us.
It was not lost on me that most of the tough climb was finished and that we would soon have a tail wind to finish.
The descent to Skiag Bridge was framed by the mountains and lit up by the shimmering Loch Assynt.
I had to pinch myself in the knowledge that like 'Brigadoon' this type of weather was something that might happen just once a year. Today was seemingly the day.
Onwards to Inchnadamph, a name that caresses the mouth, and invokes thoughts of begotten kings and mystic waters. Eagles soared and deer roamed - we shared the loch together.
The route then turns right towards Stac Pollaidh. With the shallowest of descents and a tailwind the nest ten miles were pure indulgence. When a gradient did occasionally appear from behind a bend or bush it was easy matched by the momentum banked.
Eventually we reached the Atlantic and had to follow the coast northwards back to Lochinver. This terrain was similar to the first part, the only difference being that we could smell the local beer, fine food and whiskey.
Mark Beaumont was right - this location was exceptional.
The ride had everything, Climbing - Oh Yeah.
Descending - of course.
But what defined it was exactly what I first saw in the video - Savage beauty.
If this was the taste of what was ahead of us I had some good reasons to toast that night.
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