I wasn’t going to raise money for charity this year, because I don’t like pestering you, my friends, too much, but the events to follow changed my mind. Once you have read my story I hope you will see some comparison between my struggles and dedication to the cause and those of the many highly trained professionals who continue to carry out sterling work at my chosen charity partner, Worldwide Cancer Research, and perhaps donate a few pounds to help them continue towards a cure.  

In December last year, perhaps as part of a mid-life crisis, I decided to enrol for a bike ride from Lands End to John O’Groats. Never being one to take the easy option I chose the 10 rather than 14 day tour, meaning an average 98 miles a day, yep 980 miles, and climbing the equivalent of 1½ times the height of Mount Everest!

Training went well over the winter, spring and early summer until I had a serious mountain bike accident just three weeks before the start of my ride. A haematoma is described as “a solid swelling of clotted blood within the tissues”, a good description of the bruising I ended up with from my groin down below the knee. The doctor told me to rest fully for 4-6 weeks. He looked bemused when I told him “no chance, I’m cycling from Lands End to John O’Groats in three”!!

The only problem with my bravado was that for the first week I could hardly walk and for the remaining two before my ride, through sheer pain, I only got out on the bike twice, which isn’t enough for the task ahead, believe you me. 

The ride started from Lands End on 5 May, the sun was out and we all looked forward to the 100 mile first day through Cornwall. Billed as the toughest day, it was. Up and down all the way, very hard going at times. Day two improved slightly but another toughie, although the weather remained very kind as we passed through Dartmoor to our overnight stay near Bridgwater. Day three, 108 miles, saw us cross through Bristol to Ludlow and the only rain, for a full 45 minutes, during the entire trip.  

This leg was when it all went badly wrong. Navigating on to a narrow country lane I ended up in a gully, then off my bike (again) cracking a few ribs in the process. Cracked ribs are painful, even more painful than a haematoma but with the help of Nurofen, and lots of them, I continued on my travels.

Only another 750 miles to go, this trip had cost me the best part of £2,000 so I wasn’t packing in now!

Past Manchester, through the Lakes, and hills, we reached Scotland on day six, another century completed. By now I had shares in Nurofen, though even nine a day didn’t work all of the time, especially at night, being a fidgety sleeper. Tramadol is apparently a narcotic-like pain reliever used to treat severe pain, with side effects. I tried them as well, they worked, briefly.

Up to Perth, aching legs, deprived of sleep, full of painkillers and energy bars, and jelly babies of course, then to Grantown on Spey. The sun was still out but the wind was beginning to set in, and the Scottish roads are unforgiving when you have broken ribs. The scenery is magnificent, as is the wildlife. Someone did remark that it is no surprise I fall off my bike so often but looking around as you ride is better than looking down at the tarmac, or your mate’s backside. This option yielded rewards, an otter was sighted swimming against the current near Braemar (I checked three times so 100% certain) then two red squirrels as we left Grantown. No-one else saw them. No-one else fell off their bike – perhaps my fellow rider was right.

Two more days to go, through Inverness and on to Lairg for the night, before our final 91 mile jaunt to John O’Groats. A bit colder and a full on head wind but the sun was still out and every mile was a mile closer to the finish, and beer. 

On Sunday 15 May we arrived at John O’Groats, the famous sign in sight and the tacky (expensive) souvenir shop adjacent. Funny how the pain stopped as we drank champagne, whisky, cider, anything to replace the salt tablet induced water and energy drinks that had been a major part of my diet for the previous 980 miles.

After a great night in the only bar in John O’Groats we left for our journey home, this time via bus, plane and train.  Off to A&E on the Monday, my injury was confirmed along with the expected “you need to rest fully for six weeks”. 

Please spare a few pounds if you can. 

Note that my trip has been fully paid for so every penny you give will go to Worldwide Cancer Research.

Thanks

Dave