I gave up today, before I set off.
Unfortunately, the Poppinjay Hotel was fabulous. Newly taken over by its self from Best Western, it's a choice place to kill a few nights.
This morning by 6.00am all my kit had been washed by a gorgeous woman and dried. Get this. When I got in Dad Major's car to back up two miles, I said to Mum Major 'Can you smell washing powder?'. We all could!!
Good start. Unfortunately, that was about the best of it. Rosebank, backed up two miles was fine. Grand Designs had taken over the local Laird's Palace and both South and East Lodge looked like something you would kill for. Never mind the Castle. I told Dad Major to take some pictures but he was already lost. Sat Nav Con works again. Already on the way to Abu Dhabi, both parents were 25 times round the local roundabout. Meanwhile I'd absconded with the Laird.
The trouble with a road to Stirling is that all A roads in Scotland are now Motorways. Via Motherwell, I realised I'd gone terribly wrong. Meanwhile they'd scrambled the Perthshire Helicopter Air Ambulance Team to the War of the Roses - Mum & Dad Major had lost me for the 25th time in the first hour and there was a cardiac arrest situation.
Only an hour on, no progress made, the road to Stirling was still closed. Basically, the Scots want to be independent and good luck. What I suggest is that we withdraw all the Inland Revenue from Cumbernauld and rename it Desertville. That way, the roads would be empty and I'd not have spent three hours navigating the local displeasure.
I started a new petition today. People who drive X5's or Kevins should take a special driving test. For starters they have too much cash to flash and more money than taste. They clearly need every window blacked out so they are up to no good. Plus they drive like w*****s and have no respect for traffic. I bet if you checked their tax returns, as a new owner or an old one they are taking the driving p**s. In Cumbernauld, this sort of information is important. Especially if you compute taxes. Particularly if you compute taxes.
Oh yes. Meanwhile I was cycling. It was miserable. If you turn all A-roads in to M-roads, you will send me wrong. I reckon I did 40 miles in the wrong direction today - give or take 50 miles - so it was the sort of tricky in a tricky sort of way. I mean, I've done a lot of miles and who seems to care?
When, eventually, I arrived in Stirling where I should have been last night - four miserable hours and nothing to show for it later, I thought I'd arrived at the Castle. Told Dad Major the road and tweeted and caught up on the mail traffic while I waited. Trouble was that the Great Sat Nav Con had taken the Majors to Halfords or Loch Ness or Somewhere.
When they arrived having saved £4 they said they'd donate it because they didn't like the look of the Castle above me. Of course, I'd been downing the Medicine while I waited in the Hendersons @ the Albert Halls. Dad Major chained the bike to the local Castle when he arrived, just in case someone nicked the Castle.
So with 9999 miles to the next pit stop - of course I set off anyway and went the wrong way. Having gone wrong by another 10 miles in the first hour, I'd had ENOUGH but this is a charity nutter bike ride you know and I have to make some progress. Even if it's not straight forward.
I make an executive Admiral Shipping Forecast decision which is - I don't like the look of the A9. The M9 finishes somewhere in Scotland on the way to JOG but when 3 lanes change in to 2 and in to Dunblane, I opt for Dunblane. The B road goes North and would leave me as far north as Perth in half the distance. Albert (My Granddad) was talking and he knew. Never mind that no one talked yesterday. I heard what I needed today and found what I needed to see.
It got dark, it got lonely and I ate my last Dursley Masters of the Cycle Shop bars but I needed it. Big Tears Girl today. Want to stop. Hate it. Can't do it. Enough is enough.
Then Admiral of the Shipping Forecast says you will find it in you. Just keep trying. So I did and I do. Get to Crieff. Tomorrow is tomorrow and there's another way to jig around over the mountain.
Only 3 more days. Bring it on.
XX
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