Woke up really early, obviously very keen to get going, but even at 6:00 the other cyclists on the site were leaving. My lighter had got damp, so after some faffing I decided to grab breakfast en-route. It was pretty chilly to start with but by the time I reached Dounreay it had turned to rain. At this point my repairs from last night failed and my rack proceed to fall apart again. I was fixing it right outside a school, when alarms started sounding from the Nuclear Power Station, but play time didn’t miss a beat – so I guess it was probably OK.

Got it all back together and started on some of the bigger hills of the day. These were hard work and slow, both up and down. I’m not quite used to the feel of the luggage, the potentially dodgy rack and the wet roads, but these meant going down was slower than going up. Add to that the cattle grids, which I stopped at to walk over, as I think my little wheels will disappear down them.

I started on my supplies bought yesterday, a loaf, cheese and tomatoes for breakfast, supplemented by fig rolls. At the top of one climb, I stopped at a view point and a cyclist stopped coming the other way. He had come from Edinburgh and was describing the route (as I will be gong to Edinburgh). He had followed the NCN1 to Tongue, them along the coast which was the route I had planned, but he said there was an alternative by going south from Bettyhill. Another (not touring) cyclist arrived, who said he was local but didn’t seem to know much, and somehow turned the conversation to politics, firstly Scottish Independence, and then the EU referendum – I beat a hasty retreat! Bettyhill lived up to her name with a tough climb, I was going to stop at the shop for supplies – but there was a queue of school kids – presumably only one allowed in at a time. Not stopping at the shop was an error, as I would run out of water later.

At the Bettyhill junction there was a choice, a massive hill to Tongue or a nice flat road direct to Altnaharra, I had no choice but to deviate from my planned route! It was a beautiful road, following a river the whole way, with sheep and lambs all over the road.

I found an ideal shed to lean the bike on to take my waterproofs off, and in the distance I could see a yellow jacket. When I got there it was a guy call Chris who was cycling the four extremities of the UK with his first puncture in 1200 miles. Somehow I ended pumping his tyre up, while he told me about 12 days without rain – I said I had just stopped to take my waterproofs off!

Carried on to Altnaharra, where I ridiculously thought I’d get a quick coffee and a cake – no chance, but there was a posh hotel. Now for the climb up to Crask Inn, it wasn’t too bad, but running out of water and it being at the end of an 80 mile day – it was about 8 miles of climbing and a struggle. I walked for about a kilometre near the top.

Except it wasn’t over at the top, a head wind meant I had to pedal all the way down as well. Found the campsite, a nice remote site just north of Lairg only £5. Hadn’t seen a shop in the last 50 miles so needed to eat my emergency chilli con carne which wasn’t too bad.

Slept very well!