Is Sex Better than Hill Climbing - The Jury is In !

The discussion came up a few days ago when I spied an on line article that suggested that Cycle Hill Climbing was very much like sex, slow and rhythmic and then you're fuc&ed when you get to the top !!

Gasping for air after having climbed up our 100th small hill for the day Julia gave her opinion remarking that there was no contest as hill climbing sucks !

For those wondering how Henley and I survived the night before in a double bed you can stop worrying as our manly images are still intact ! After yesterday's bum buster I was so buggered that I simply grabbed the beds doona and slept on the floor leaving H with bugger all bed coverings. Admittedly though the sight of H in his frilly nightie in the morning was pretty damned enticing !

After yesterday's tough ride we left lateish - 9-45 following Pommie Kev and Julia in the sun. At 9.46 it started bucketing down forcing us to scamper to the tourist info office until the rain had passed over and the sun had returned at 9.48 !

This was a mixed day of superb scenery, tough riding, variable weather conditions and very uncomfortable cycling as we rode on an extremely busy A road (with no verge) competing with high  speed trucks and camper vans.

Thankfully most of the drivers were courteous enough but the speed they were going past was pretty unnerving even for the most experienced of us - Skye is just simply not geared for cycling.

Eventually we caught up with Pommie Kev and Julia at Broadford for a welcome coffee although Henley's shout somehow equated to an extra large one for him and a small one for me. I'm looking at payback which means a thimble for him when it's my shout next !

Turning off the busy of Kyle of Lochalsh road to the ferry at Armadale was almost pleasant with most of the busy traffic gone, the sun out and some superb scenery !

I say almost pleasant as the last 20kms to the ferry were almost exclusively into a headwind that had Aussie Kev just about spent and even Julia swearing (Gosh, Darn etc etc) !

A sign en route had indicated that our aimed for 3pm ferry was in fact leaving at 2.30 which caused us to throttle back to target the next one at 4.30 pm. To Pommie Kev and my horror we rounded the all but last corner with 1 small hill climb left realising that our ferry was departing at 3 giving us 5 minutes to make the ramp.

Racing to the dock we made it with a couple of minutes to spare, PK teeing up the tickets, but unfortunately the last stretch was too much for the others so PK and I watched forlornly as the ferry sailed off just as H and Julia cycled in. Still all was not lost as we sat back having a cuppa with a stunning vista in front of us

We boarded our now 4.30pm ferry complete with bus loads of "Septics" as H calls them (Yanks) for a magical 30 minute ride to Mallaig past a stunning coastline of craggy mountains which signified mainland Scotland and more hills to be climbed !

Disembarking we cycled past the famous Jacobite steam train and on to Back of Bennoch near Arisaig some 10kms distant. We were now well and truly knackered by our days ordeal

Our B&B helped restore our spirits somewhat. The B&B was beautifully situated overlooking beaches that were used to film Local Hero with the Skye Peninsular starkly prominent in the background

All that was left to do was to walk to a pub at Arisaig 2-3kms distant along country lanes on a lovely Summer Solstice evening enjoy our meal and return in time for a magical sunset - story book stuff indeed !