After a leisurely breakfast - not through choice, the service being very slow - we set off out of Inverness alongside the A9 (again) looking nervously at the amount of traffic on the road and the speed at which it was going because we knew we had to actually ride along it later in the day. We had expected the road to become less busy after Inverness - after all, with all due respect to Wick and Thurso, there’s not much beyond Inverness is there?
Crossing the Kennock Bridge (our third big suspension bridge after the Severn and the Forth Road Bridges), we enjoyed a lovely view of Inverness which was clearly looking its best. we’re certain that, on a bleak, wet January afternoon it looks far less appealing.
We then turned off onto minor roads and immediately started climbing steeply up to the top of the Black Isle. Once up there, it was wonderful cycling with long, straight, relatively flat, minor roads with little traffic other than a discourteous, single finger-waving, red van driver going far too fast who took exception to Stephen stopping, uttering an expletive and glaring at him as he roared past.
We made our way across the Black Isle to Cromarty (as in the shipping forecast “Cromarty, Forth, Tyne,….” for the Radio 4 listeners amongst you) where we caught a small ferry to Nigg with only space for two cars and two bikes (well, they probably could have fitted more bikes on, actually). Rather than drive on drive off, the ferries was drive on reverse off, which certainly seemed to cause panic and consternation to 1 of the drivers as he tried to reverse down off the moving ferry and up the slipway. It was much easier with bikes! We’ve just had a horrid thought - using public transport doesn’t “invalidate” our achievement does it??!!
Shortly after this we finally got to cycle on the A9 instead of beside it. Thankfully, it was less busy than it had been when we last saw it just north of Inverness, but it was still a bit of a racetrack. However, it wasn’t a long stretch and, as the A9 turned north over a newish bridge, we carried on westwards on another A road towards Bonar Bridge. This road was much, much quieter and had spectacular views over the Dornoch Firth.
From Bonar Bridge there were one or two steeper climbs and descents to Lairg before we really emerged in the wilderness of the Flow Country. It was just a gentle climb which, with the strong tailwind at our backs, was easy, allowing us to take in the surrounding loveliness.
It was a beautiful summer’s evening, with just the occasional car driver practising his rallying technique to spoil the perfect peace of the evening. Christine enjoyed it so much that she sauntered slowly along, stopping frequently to look at the view and listen to the silence. It was as lovely an hour’s cycling as you could wish for.
The only blot on the landscape was that there is much forestation of the otherwise boggy peat covered landscape. The trees look okay whilst growing, but when cut the area looks completely devastated, with stumps and branches just left getting bleached. The scenes looks like war pictures.
The evening cycle ended with our arrival at The Crask Inn, comprising an Inn built around 1815 and a single cottage. It was lovely and atmospheric. There was a fairly small dark bar, and a much brighter dining-room where we had a delicious meal of home-cooked food whilst looking at an amazing view. The inn was the only place in the 21 miles between Lairg and Altnaharra.
Here’s the route and the map.
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