Stage 14: Inverness to Tongue

Nearly there!

Distance: 96.01 miles

Climb: 4,196 feet       


The end is so close we can almost see it as we set our compass due north for Sutherland.

Our last big day in the saddle! Hoping the midges don't find us as we plunge into some of the last true wilderness in the UK. 

Fun Fact: Tongue is a geographical term in Old Norse that refers to a piece of land shaped like a spit (or tongue). 

Post-ride Debrief
For our Scots Gaelic readers: fàilte gu blog ìre 14.

Welcome to a day of wilderness, natural splendour and northern delights.

Before all that thanks to Alison, Graham, Lorna and Sandy who looked after us royally on our rest day evening. Great food, great friendship and wonderful company. Congratulations to Alison for winning “best cake cooked by a relative”. More professional athletes should consider the merits of sticky toffee pudding.

Our penultimate mornings began in a different fashion. Paul spending his first waking hour sipping tea, watching ospreys and oystercatchers. Richard trying to stop walking like an unoiled C3PO.

With a big day in prospect, we proceeded to cross the magnificent Kessock Bridge across the Beauly Firth. Thundering traffic did not detract from the views up and down the Firth.

Rising steadily to Dingwall and beyond we found the Highlands Farm Café dispensing excellent espressos with added vistas. 

Having already had the wow-o-meter recalibrated once, we’ve now had to send it away again. The early part of the ride was merely an aperitif for what was to follow.

If you have not been to the Highlands and the far North of Scotland then definitely go. If you’ve already been then go again! Beyond our halfway support crew meet-up at Ardgay (pronounced Ardguy) we experienced what Paul called the best 40 miles of riding ever.

Mountains, Munros, glens and burns each took their turn as our eyes tried to process the splendour. Each corner turned gave a new panorama to enjoy. There were moments when the experience was more emotional than visual.

Entering the Flow Country covered in double-decker deep peat bogs backed by high ranges, there were moments when the view was like the opening sequences of the old technicolour westerns. The dust in the distance usually a truck rather than a Comanche raiding party. 

With the support crew sending excited messages about their journey through the beauty, we knew continued treats were in store. At times cycling was made harder because the rear views had to be taken in.

The Crask Inn, the UK’s most remote, provided surprisingly good coffee and a snoozing canine companion. Further on, scattering deer caught our eye. All of this happening in glorious sunshine making rain jackets we carried redundant.

The Kyle of Tongue opened up before us. So beautiful it almost felt like it should be the whole ride’s terminus. A patch of bliss where the blue of the water and sky, tops and tails the towering green hills and mountains.

Between us we took literally hundreds of photos capturing the stunning vistas. Below we share a very small sample. 

Tomorrow we ride on John O’Groats and the end of this wonderful adventure.

Why we're doing this: Every penny or cent pledged is donated to Phyllis Tuckwell Hospice Care to help fund the very best in FREE end-of-life care and other support services. See our JustGiving page.










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