It’s a long way down the holiday road – on a tandem

For many folk, a summer holiday is the time to jet off to foreign parts and laze in the sun for a fortnight. But in summer 2020, veterinary surgeon and Audaxer Laura Pugh and her husband Stevie instead took to a tandem – for a midge-plagued slog from Land’s End to John O’Groats in the unseasonable damp and cold. Laura describes how they tried their hardest to get into the holiday mood…

Laura began riding Audaxes in 2016. She completed an SR on tandem in that year, and an SR solo the following year. She’s also ridden the Mille Pennine on tandem and completed PBP in 2019, though finishing a couple of hours out of time. Derbybased Laura and Stevie have ridden an SR every year since 2016. Stevie has ridden Audaxes since the age of 13 when he rode a 200km organised by the legendary Jim Hopper. His record includes one LEL and two PBPs. Laura says: “He was notoriously fast in his day – once getting an organiser out of bed after finishing a 600km in 24 hours. He now enjoys a slower pace of riding with me on tandem and on solo bikes, and has lost count of the number of SR series he’s done.”

WE WERE EXTREMELY LUCKY to be able to take a cycling "holiday" while restrictions allowed over the summer months – but when you’re a seasoned Audaxer, what does rest and relaxation actually mean? We had two weeks and the length of the country to find out.

It’s a dream many of us harbour – riding Land’s End to John O’Groats. Even before the first mutters of Coivd-19 my husband Stevie and I had pencilled in that this would be the year we undertook this epic journey. When it became apparent Covid restrictions would lift enough to allow us to travel the distance, and I had two weeks off work, the opportunity was too good to pass up. The only way to travel for us was on tandem as it helped match our paces and made for a more sociable journey – joined at the frame.

This did, however, create the first logistical issue: How on earth you get a bicycle made for two to from one end of the country and back to the other? Despite some useful suggestions we did not have the time to ride both ways!

The easiest way was to rent vans to and from the start and finish – convenient for Land’s End, but less so for John O’Groats where the nearest van hire was Inverness. This rounded up the distance to closer to 1,150miles to be covered in 14 days,

Ready to roll… setting off in rainy Cornwall

Loading up the van… … and loadfing up the tandem

At last the beginning…

including travel time in the van; not what a lot of people would consider a holiday.

Setting off didn’t quite have that holiday vibe either as I finished my night shift at 8am, leapt on to a bus, jumped on my commuting bike in Derby, rode five miles home to help Stevie load the tandem and gear into the rental van he’d collected earlier that morning.

We were soon loaded up, on the road and heading south. The hire van was new and pristine and I desperately tried not to shed crumbs on the seats. We arrived and uploaded the tandem with our gear to ride 11 miles to Land’s End and pitch up for an early morning start. We planned to camp as much as possible along the way so had all the necessary accoutrements stowed in out four panniers and bar bag making for a heavy bike. Many people would be horrified at the idea of having to pitch a tent, cook dinner and not sleep in a bed after a long day on the bike, but we considered our spacious two-man tent and gas burner relative luxuries compared to the floor of a sports hall full of snoring cyclists.

We had a splendid evening to begin with, celebrating the beginning of our adventure with a couple of pints in the First and Last pub in England (depending which way you approach it) and a fish and chip picnic outside the tent.

A rather surreal start saw us up and packed promptly after breakfast and riding the final few miles to begin our ride. Taking the necessary photos in front of the sign the rest of the Land’s End complex was eerily quiet and it seemed unbelievable the next time I’d look out to sea would be at the other end of the country.

The first few days were some of the longest and as usual with such a long trip I knew it would take a bit of time to find our patter – getting things packed, what was in what bag, how much food to keep on hand, how frequently to stop. One of the benefits of riding an Audax is the set controls mean you know the distance to the next stop, whereas we just had the daily distance in front of us and no set plan.

This backfired pretty quickly as we passed the first Cornish pasty shop, temptingly letting the aroma of its produce waft out on the road. The tandem promptly squealed to a halt and second breakfast was had sheltering from the drizzle underneath some trees with golden, steaming, flaky pastry filled with rich and deeply satisfying veg and mince filling.

We wheeled off into the mist and

Some old bridge… crossing the Severn

gloom, undulating through the high-banked country lanes before the road started to climb. We were probably lucky we’d stopped when we did as the weather was unforgiving and there wasn’t so much as an empty bus stop for respite as we reached the top of Bodmin Moor. It hardly seemed like a late July summer’s day.

We battled through the elements to Bude where a friend had offered us a bed in her self-catering accommodation. What she failed to mention was the final few short, sharp up-and-downs on the approach and we arrived sodden, tired and feeling like we’d seen very little other than hedgerows and grey skies all day. In contrast to the other cottages where holidaymakers were already tucked up warm and dry, we were setting about showering, drying kit and packing provisions for an early start the next day. We were treated to a wonderful homecooked dinner and couple of local ales however, so decided this was still in the spirit of the holiday after all.

Although well-rested and fed, it was a wrench to leave the comfort of such cosy surrounding and ride out again at 7am into yet more depressing drizzle. But today was another long one and we needed all the time we could to have any hope of getting to the next campsite to relax. Not five miles down the road our dreams of lounging around the campsite or strolling to the village pub were destroyed when Stevie noticed a bulge in the front tyre. Hoping it would last until the next bike shop, we set off tentatively, with me doing "admin" on the back trying to find the best option to get a new one and not divert. The problem was soon taken out of our hands when descending round a corner towards a low-walled bridge there was a loud bang and I closed my eyes and debated making a swift departure from the stoker seat on the back, and the bike ground to sudden halt. A testament to Stevie’s skill as captain, he managed to keep the bike upright, both of us in our seats, avoiding a damp landing in the stream below. We were not going anywhere with a blown-out tyre. Two hours of panicked googling and calls saw us rescued by a fantastic local bike repair man who not only came out to find us, equipped with a new tyre, but then followed us for the next five miles to make sure we were OK.

Seriously behind schedule we pushed on as fast as we could through the endlessly rolling Cornish countryside. A brief stop for provisions saw us accosted by the village busybody who was determined to try to sponsor us for our efforts despite our protestations that this is what we do for fun and our holiday.

The hedgerows had finally lowered enough to give us a glimpse of the countryside and the hills finally evened out enough to give us a break when our route put us on a rather scenic, but gravelly canal path from Taunton. As much I was having a great time admiring the scenery and wildlife, Stevie was not. The tandem is not built for gravel riding and with four heavy

Ice cream at Loch Lomond

panniers if made it a physical and mental struggle to hold the bike straight.

It had been two long days in the saddle so far, and as much as we had kept up our riding through lockdown the mileage was soon ramping up with today being almost 200km. As the sun set and the day drew to a close we stopped at a Co-op to grab provisions, resigned to the fact there would be no evening strolls to the local pub by the time we arrived and pitched up.

Another deluge of rain and a final rutted track was enough for Stevie and he retreated to the tent when we finally pitched up at 9pm. If Audax has taught me anything it’s that you don’t get far without fuel, and with Stevie’s tremendous effort on the front of the bike after such a long day I set about cooking by head torch in the downpour and we managed to get a full meal down us before collapsing exhausted into our sleeping bags. “This doesn’t feel like a holiday at all," Stevie grumbled before we drifted off.

The following day started brightly – both in terms of weather and in spirit, and cups of tea and a warm breakfast sustained us for the ride ahead. The better weather and a pleasant ride along the "Strawberry Line" track seemed almost leisurely, as did the fact that today was a ride of two halves as we were meeting a friend in Tintern for lunch.

We still had to up the pace to meet the "control cut off time" of our pre-arranged booking, but this gave us the motivation to keep going. A very pleasant catch up in the shadows of the ancient abbey and a cheeky lunch time half pint made for a relaxed meander through the Wye Valley. The time spent stopping cost us, though, and it was another late arrival to camp.

A beautiful sunrise the following morning helped raise our spirits, and the sunlight revealed beautiful views over the Welsh borders. Today we had another stop with friends so were against the clock again and elected to make a route diversion to the main road to Shrewsbury.

Our route had focused on the more scenic roads so far, which is one of the things we most enjoy about Audax rides, but today we just wanted to make progress. I was becoming adept at rerouting with a combination of the track on my GPS and Google Maps, and diverted us a number of times. We made an error many an Audaxer will dread – a slow service café. By this I don’t mean a simple down-to-earth caff doing its best to feed dozens of ravenous riders – more like a place with superfluous staff and menu options and yet which cannot possibly make you a bacon butty in less than half an hour because the organic sourdough is still baking and the maple-cured bacon has to be crisped to perfection. Sadly this was such a café and 45 minutes later we wolfed down our butties in a tenth of the time it took to make them.

The next battle was a string of “gates” alongside the canal between Warrington and Wigan which would have been an inconvenience to the normal cyclist but to our “long vehicle” were impassable. Unloading the bags and some complex manoeuvres from Stevie, we edged our way through. A further National Cycle Network track that was a foot deep in mud was the last straw and we opted for the less scenic main road again – the balance between holiday and progress as tricky as ever to achieve.

Cocktails on arrival at our friends in Preston put us back in the holiday spirit and a camp spot in the back garden as well as a chance to wash and dry clothes was a great boost, as was some more delicious home-cooking. The riding itself was challenging enough, but the "admin" that goes with it – tent up and down, breakfast, lunch and dinner provided for and cooked, clothing kept clean, weather checked, route planned, blog written – all these things add hours to the day, and the foolish addition of a book to read (which went unread) to my luggage. The weatherchecking that evening caused some consternation as it was due to be torrential – the last thing we needed for the Lakes. We quickly drafted a reroute over Shap Fell. The wet weather saw us push on hard and we made our first control at Penrith, arriving sodden, cold and hungry in the local tearooms. Luckily, they were very tolerant of the puddles forming around our feet. Soup, hot drinks and scones soon had us sustained enough to continue. Somehow the sun broke through the clouds and the final few miles seemed to fly by as we arrived in Carlisle with time to spare. We also had the luxury

On the menu… midge attack Lochside camping

of an Airbnb, and after exploding our panniers around the room to dry everything we ventured into town to celebrate the halfway point of our journey. Enjoying a few pints, we finally felt like we had enough time to relax and put our feet up, and the benefits of a kitchen made for an easy junk food tea of oven pizza and fish finger sandwiches for breakfast!

The quiet back roads of Dumfries and Galloway emphasised the difference in landscape we’d passed through, from rolling hedges, canal paths, undulating hills, suburbs and city paths. Turning northwards our pleasant ride was soon yet another battle as we headed straight into a stiff headwind. We had no choice but to get our heads down and batter on. In common with every Audax I’ve ridden, every day of this trip had its different challenges: wind, rain, mechanicals and road surfaces.

Tonight was another bonus Airbnb however as no campsite was convenient and we yet again arrived in time to get to the pub, but this time were forced to purchase a rather wonderful dinner as our usual fare of packed rice or noodles was not an option due to the lack of village shop. As much as we were determined to stick to budget, we felt a bit of a treat was in the holiday spirit.

The following day we were into the Highlands and due to spend three nights wild camping and fending for ourselves. Feeling intrepid we wended our way on bike paths through Glasgow city centre before a brief ice cream stop (who knew Scottish tablet is the best flavour of ice cream?) and picking up the busy A-road up past Loch Lomond.

Thankfully the road was relatively quiet and it was just a case of heads down and pedal. The Green Welly stop was our last chance for provisions and I did a rather random supermarket sweep of the sparse selection of cans and packets on the shelves, as well as a bicycle-themed bottle of wine to help warm our cockles out in the wilds. Our destination was due to be somewhere beyond the Bridge of Orchy, but when we reached the hotel on the bridge we decided to quench our thirst with a swift pint.

A gentleman on the neighbouring table singled us out as not being quite the same type as the "outdoorsy" holidaymakers who were congratulating themselves after a few hours’ brisk stroll before settling down to a three-course gastropub meal. He was intrigued by our tale and kept us talking for another couple of drinks, before making the extremely kind gesture of paying our bar tab. This had negated us riding any further that evening, but he had helpfully pointed out that there was a camp spot down by the River Orchy.

We arrived to pitch up to find another few tents there already, as it’s a popular spot for West Highland Way walkers. Unfortunately, these were not the only company near the river and as soon as we stopped the dreaded midges started to descend. Our human friends were more than hospitable though and after rolling us cans of the National drink of Scotland, Tennents, we soon forgot that the less friendly insects were feasting too. Rustling up an innovative supper of "Scottish surprise fried rice" with the can of haggis I‘d picked up earlier, we washed it down with a pleasant drop of red wine and sat chatting around the campfire with our new friends.

The next morning was a less joyous affair as I awoke early with a sore, fuzzy head, suggesting that I’d over-imbibed slightly the night before, and every inch of my exposed skin covered in small red welts.

The holiday spirit was long gone and only by switching into "Audax mode" did I managed to get packed up and on the bike. The beauty of the Glen Etive and Rannoch Moor revived me somewhat, but a solid fried breakfast in Glen Coe definitely saved the day. Normally I wouldn’t dare consume such a large meal before getting back on the bike, but that day it certainly hit the spot.

Routine bike checks by Stevie revealed the next issue to be dealt with as he spotted a split developing in the rim of the wheel. It was another disaster waiting to happen and we just desperately hoped we could find a replacement before it gave up on us entirely.

This certainly put a downer on the mood, and a wet, tedious ride along the shore of Loch Ness with its impatient drivers did nothing to raise our spirits. The miles started to drag in the way that only seems to occur after too long in the saddle and we were both suffering from the doozies, having to implement caffeine chewing gum and Rowntree’s fruit sours to keep up alert. Activities which involve forcing yourself to stay awake do not constitute a holiday, and our endurance was put to the test again. We finally reached Drumnadrochit, our last supply stop for the day but the thought of stocking up, rolling into the hills, pitching up soaked through to the skin, cooking dinner and then trying to get enough internet to find the nearest bike shop felt like a monumental task after a tough day.

We’ve come through tougher situations but we decided to put a sensible spin on things and find a bed and breakfast – this is what most normal people would be doing all the time on their holidays, right?

A few hours later and another pannier bag explosion to get everything dry we were warm, showered and stealthily heating up dinner in a quirky hotel room. The Wi-Fi internet allowed us to spot bike shops on the following day’s route and the wonders of modern technology allowed me to get in touch to see if they had a wheel in stock and ready to go. Feeling much better about ourselves we snuggled down into a night in a real bed and slept very soundly.

The following day we had no doubt we

had made the right decision and being able to pack up dry kit despite the showers outside felt like a massive bonus. The only downside for me was that my carelessness at Bridge of Orchy had left me exposed to the hungry midges and it appeared not only was I very tasty, but also very reactive. My legs were and the itching was horrendous. Another emergency stop to pick up pills and potions was required.

Mission: New front wheel went extremely smoothly however and Stevie was soon fitting the new one in place after yet again another local bike shop saving the day. We were over the moon to be able to roll on without fear of splitting rims, especially as the roads were getting more and more remote.

A last stop at Lairg to pick up provisions for the night and we found ourselves on a tremendous road to Altnaharra which conveniently had a hotel and bar where we enjoyed a pint and met some fellow LeJoggers who were slightly taken aback by the speed we’d made up the country as they were taking closer to a month to complete the ride and staying in accommodation every night.

I think it is easy to take for granted the skills and perspective long distance and Audax riding gives you but we certainly didn’t envy their bar bill for a couple of pints and burgers so dread to think the cost of a room. Feeling ever so slightly smug we rolled further on to pitch up our five star accommodation in the most midge-free place we could find next to the loch. As a special treat we had some local burgers (on a disposable BBQ), washed down with a can of Tennents for a fraction of the cost.

The small issue of a thick black cloud of midges descending every time the wind dropped left us with head nets at the ready however, and I had never quite believed the descriptions of not being able to see through the swarm until that night. We were treated to a glorious sunset across the loch but retreated quickly once night fell to hear what at first sounded like rain, but turned out to be midges battering the fly sheet trying to get in. What I had considered a mild irritation was now becoming a major problem and one of our biggest mistakes was underestimating the scale of the problems caused by these wee beasties!

A thankfully breezy morning saw us packing up with fewer issues and a fantastic 73 miles to go – our shortest day yet. Doped up to the eyeballs on antihistamines I had a rather surreal ride as finally the coast came into view.

Our arrival at John O’Groats was not met with a fanfare, banners and medals. We joined a queue of people (who had mostly driven there) to have our photo taken with the famous sign before wandering around trying to find our caravan accommodation for the night (the local campsite was shut all season). Stevie quickly spotted the newly-opened John O’Groats brewery however and they were much more welcoming, and having heard of our travels, rewarded us with a free pint. Finally feeling accomplished we dined at the rather eccentric Seaview Hotel trying to ignore the fact that even though our LEJOG was over, we still had to get back on the bike tomorrow.

The psychology of having finished our challenge but still having to get to Inverness in two days, to pick up the hire van did not make for a great start the next day. The caravan was our least comfortable night’s sleep – give me a bus shelter any day.

We had a comparatively late start, and lazily rolled on to the A9, which was more pleasurable than I’d expected, but just as undulating. With 200km over two days we could afford to take our time now and we were definitely on holiday. We stopped at another hotel that night, treated ourselves to scallops on the seafront then sit-down fish and chips before a few pints in the bar with the locals.

A full Scottish breakfast saw us most of the way to Inverness the next day and we were delighted to pick up the van ahead of schedule. We used the time to get a head start on the drive south and got as far as Perth before reverting back to Audax mode and eating kebabs in the van before bedding down in the back with the bike. We’d been through a lot together and it somehow seemed appropriate...

The following day we completed the rest of the drive back, dropped the van off, unpacked, washed, dried, ate and slept all in time for me to start another week of night shifts the day after.

It may have been a crazy idea to cram it all into two weeks but we were delighted to have completed the challenge, and had many amazing messages of support from friends following us along the way. We were proud of our achievement.

● And the trip has inspired us. What we’ve learned from this and other long distance rides has made us wonder how far we could go. This has now spiralled out of control and we plan to do a record-breaking attempt at World Circumnavigation on tandem in 2022.

If any readers are interested in following our preparations, we are on various social media platforms under Stela Tandem and have a website – www. stelatandemaroundtheworld.wordpress.com