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We got up fairly early and cycled up the hill to Lanark, to meet Bob Yorke, one of Arthur and Calum’s work colleagues. I forgot to start Strava until after meeting Bob, so the 37 miles and 977 feet elevation of today isn’t quite accurate. It was an easy day, and we even chose to stay on the A road for a more direct route to Glasgow, a location we were all very eager to get to! We soon joined the Clyde again and cycled along it to Glasgow Green, but it was closed for a Wet Wet Wet concert so we had to go around the edge. As we got towards the BBC building, we saw a group of people hovering with cameras, and discovered Arthur and Calum had a surprise welcome party waiting to meet them. After a celebrity paparazzi style greeting, we stopped and chatted for a short while; Bob said his goodbyes; and we continued through the town centre before saying goodbye to Calum, who was heading home to see Lynne for the night. I felt sad saying goodbye, and chided myself that it was only one night; I wondered what I would feel like in a week’s time when we would all be saying goodbye for a year or more. 

Arthur took us to a bike shop where we got oil and brake pads, and the pleasant man in the shop gave me a couple of bananas to keep me going. I was surprised to realise I’d had no fruit for the last two weeks, and hadn’t even thought of buying things like bananas to have as snacks rather than the usual chocolate and cake combo. We got to Milngavie at about 1pm, and it was just lovely to be in Arthur and Anne’s home, eating lunch prepared by Anne and drinking buckets of tea in a genuine relaxed home environment. We’d had a good day – low mileage and no rain – things were starting to look up. After eating, I ran myself a bath while the boys cleaned up the bikes, and I luxuriated in bubbles for an hour or so while I slowly began to feel human again. Bliss. 

Anne and Hannah had also made a lovely dinner for us, and as soon as Trevor arrived, we began to eat. Shortly after, Alan also arrived, and we sat and chatted about the first part of the trip whilst I tried not to panic about the next day’s cycling with new people. I was now perfectly content with Arthur and Calum waiting for me and seeing me walk up the occasional hill, but I didn’t want to show myself up in front of Trevor, who I’d met briefly the year before, and Alan, who I’d never met until now. They seemed nice enough though, and I resolved that I would just have to do my best. Bert went to bed first, and I followed shortly afterwards.

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After a good nights sleep, I got up feeling refreshed and re-energised for the final week of cycling. 

Calum and Andy Summers arrived at 9am, and after a quick photo session with the new larger team of seven (soon to be eight), we set off towards Crieff. Leaving from Milngavie we headed straight up to the Campsies, and I was immediately concerned as I discovered myself to be heading up a very large hill within the first half hour. Not having planned for it, I was half way along the line of cyclists and not at the back, so I had no option but to grit my teeth and go for it – there was no way I was going to stop and push in front of my new travel companions! I had the usual thigh burn that had been with me since day one, but the adrenalin kicked in and I think the afternoon off the day before had made a big difference. I kept up with the person in front of me, making it to the top without a single break. Success! I was beginning to like this cycling lark. 

We continued in to the Campsies and the views, once again, were stunning. It didn’t rain, and Bert and I made several stops to take photos, enjoying the rolling hills and leisurely pace. The day was advertised as 49 miles, so we knew it was going to be an easy day compared to most other days we’d endured so far. The boys stopped in Kippen for lunch and Andy turned back to Glasgow; Bert and I decided to keep on going so I could meet my best friend who lives in Dunblane. We cycled along fairly level roads, stopping for a break when Bert realised his cleats were loose on his shoes, which had probably led to some of his falls, and he tightened them up to make them more effective. We made good time and arrived in Dunblane early afternoon to buy steak pie from Bert’s favourite pie shop. We arrived at my friends house on the high street at the same time as Clare, and knowing we had such a short cycling day, we stayed for a couple of hours, catching up with the family. Clare was amazed that I was on a bike, remembering correctly that the last time I had been on a bike was as a young teenager on my BMX! When we finally left, she insisted on standing in the doorway to wave me off and to convince herself that I could actually ride a bike. She didn’t actually believe me until she saw me sit on the saddle and pedal away, then she whooped and hollered at me as I disappeared around the corner. 

The two of us continued along country lanes, stopping to admire some red kites (of the bird variety, not on a string) on the way. We even headed up a long straight uphill road, and I managed the hill without a problem, enjoying the speed down the other side. 

We got to Crieff and found the B&B we were staying in, which was lovely. Our room was so beautifully decorated and cosy that I could have stayed in it forever. Had a shower and hot chocolate while the rest of the boys had a sub-friendly in the pub where Arthur and Alan were staying next door. We soon got a phone call asking us to go and check out somewhere to eat, as they had decided the pub wouldn’t be a good location, so Bert and I headed into Crieff town centre to search out an appropriate venue. Everywhere was either closed or really expensive, so on our second circuit of the area we decided on an Italian that seemed to be reasonable. The other boys joined us and we had a lovely meal before heading back to the pub for last orders. 

I fell asleep quickly in the comfortable bed, but woke up within the hour to rush to the toilet. I spent the rest of the night with chronic D&V and didn’t sleep a jot, possibly due to some dodgy seafood that I’d had in my pasta dish. I was glad I wasn’t in a Youth Hostel, though a tad disappointed that my night of luxury was somewhat ruined. 

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I felt slightly better by the morning, so decided to risk a full English before heading out to cycle again. 

As we left the B&B, my dread of the very slight hill we were about to climb heightened, such was the negative anticipation of hills I had developed over the course of 16 days of them, but my dread was unfounded and I tackled the gentle slope up into Crieff with no problems. It was cold, but dry, and we made good time to Bankfoot and then Dunkeld, where we stopped for lunch in a cafe and did a quick BCQ. 

We had a lovely ride in the afternoon with good weather, and I was pleased for the first time on the trip to be ahead of Arthur and able to point him in the right direction. As we got closer to Pitlochry the views were beautiful, and I noticed it looks like a fairytale town nestled among the hills. It was like a dream sailing down the hill towards it, without rain, and we got to the youth hostel before it opened and sat outside waiting, whilst Bert asked the other hostellers whether they had their tickets ready. The boys had one room to themselves and I was across the hallway in a room of European girls, though they were still out when I arrived so I was able to settle in in peace. 

Once showered and organised I went to have a look around the hostel, and saw Alan with a new face I didn’t recognise, however he dashed passed me to the boys room without stopping to say hello. 

Alan later declared “I didn’t recognise you in clothes”. 

The new face was Robert, a chap from Northern Ireland who was joining us for the remainder of the trip, and Robert had come armed with delicious spaghetti bolognese (including a veggie version) and homemade trifle. What a treat!

Had a relaxing evening, although it was so unusual to have a whole evening that I didn’t really know what to do with myself. I realised that this was a glimpse of the usual kind of holiday the boys have – a reasonable length day of cycling followed by leisure time. I’d forgotten how to do ‘leisure’, and I wasn’t so shattered that I just wanted to sleep, so I watched a bit of telly before finding a game to play, which most of the boys joined in on. Calum was pleased to discover he’d missed it, having gone off to read his book in peace.