Thanks to Neil for writing up the Blog I have attached below which I have to admit is a fair reflection of what happened and will bring back many happy memories for years to come.

Thanks also to Neil, without whom I would never have been able to complete the ride.

27 June – OMG, just one day to go.
After some last minute hitches and mad panics we set off around midday. Our first challenge is the M6 which treats us to many hours of that 'speed up, slow down' game that motorways like to do – what is that all about? Hugo was on telephone and conference calls almost constantly until his battery went flat, and that was going some because it had been fully charged that morning – he's so busy and important. Well, as you can imagine, the miles just crawled by for me not being able to listen to music or the radio, but the sound-bites of DHL's 2009 IT budget planning just kept me going.
We stop off at a bike shop in the late afternoon to get a few last minute bits and pieces. The almost continual rain makes us think we should have brought boats not bikes. However, our spirits our lifted are lifted by singing along to 70s and 80s compilation CDs.
We pick up Dougie, Hugo's brother and first support vehicle driver, at Edinburgh airport at half eight and headed for the highlands. Eventually we agree that we need to find somewhere to eat. Unfortunately this is when we found out that most of Scotland stopped serving food at nine. A quick foray into a restaurant near Dalwhinnie reminded us that it although we were looking for food it was us that were on the menu. In the two minutes we were outside we all suffered many midge bites.
Luckily for us Aviemore was open for fuel and food. The Indian restaurant was staying open late because there was a caleidh on and we sat at our table to the sounds of Flower of Scotland. So, as good nutritional preparation for an endurance event we had curry washed down with pints of Cobra. The strangely furtive behaviour of Hugo and Dougie at the restaurant was later explained by the fact that they are related to the McDougall clan and there were lots of MacDonalds about – obvious when you think about it. Apparently there's been bad blood between these clans going back a while, so I really think we were lucky to get out of Aviemore with our lives.
Onward and upward we eventually get to our hotel near Inverness at 01:00. Unfortunately all four and twenty virgins were already tucked up in bed, but we were all tired anyway.

28 June – Seriously OMG. Today's the day we have to start cycling.
We get up and are pleased to see that it's still raining.
The drive north involves more compilation, CDs and terrible singing, which are occasionally punctuated by Dougie getting all excited about the possibilities of fishing in the many rivers and lakes we pass.
The signs of humanity seemed to gradually give way to almost complete wilderness as we drive through the stunning scenery of the highlands. This has arguably got to be one of the most beautiful places on earth.
11.30, we arrive just south of Durness at the point where there is a ferry across to the road that leads to Cape Wrath. A quick scan of the sign tells us that the last ferry for cyclists leaves at 12:00. Hugo goes over and talks to two Norwegians who have been waiting for the ferry and minibus trip to Cape Wrath. They point us in the direction of an old blue transit which contains the ferry driver. The good news is that he says he can take us over. The bad news is that because we are cyclists there are not enough people to run the minibus so the Norwegians, who had apparently been waiting some time, are sent on their way – unlucky for some.
A whirlwind of getting changed and putting bikes together soon had us ready to set off. Dougie is fascinated by all the activity and I am able to show off my knowledge of endurance cycling by espousing the fact that you should never change your bike set-up just before a big event. Unfortunately I was interrupted because Hugo and I had to fit a new saddle to my bike that I had bought the day before.
On the crossing we talked to the ferry driver. I must add at this point that you must reset the picture you currently have in your mind's eye of a ferry to one of a small boat with an outboard engine. We told the ferry driver when we would be back and he reset our expectations. He told us the journey would take us considerably longer, that riding our fragile road bikes on the terrain we were about to cover was not sensible and that we would have punctures. Unfortunately he was spot on.
The road to Cape Wrath is more of a farm track. The going was rough, stony and spine judderingly tough. I use the word spine in there very appropriately as this is the first time I've been on my bike since damaging mine in the accident in April. I do hope my physio isn't reading this, but just in case, Alison and Cathryn of the GX Physio & Sports Injury Clinic you are gods among physios. Actually, a big thank you to Alison and Cathryn who have put my neck back together and made starting this trip possible for me.
So there we are cycling towards Cape Wrath, before the first puncture (which I claim!), and Hugo says, "It looks like its brightening up", as the constant light drizzle lets up for a couple of seconds. Well that was the cue for it to really start raining. We get to Cape Wrath and the rain's coming down and the lighthouse is barely visible from 100m. Just time for a quick photo-shoot and we set off back. Now it really starts to rain and we have a little low spot as we cycle through the streams running down the sides of the track and water soaks into every item of clothing.
Someone must have been watching over us though because the rain eventually stops, but not before a second puncture (which I claim!). We get back to the ferry, which has curiously shrunk since the last time we saw it (imagine a motorised rowing boat), and have to concede to the ferry driver that he was right. A quick call to Dougie and the support vehicle is there. As we load the bikes into the car we notice that one of my tires is flat (3 – 0 to me on the puncture score!). Two cold and wet cyclists are now able to get to the B&B to get warm and fed.
We have a much appreciated cup of tea then I decide to lie down to sooth my neck and promptly fell asleep. Apparently Dougie also fell asleep at this time – who would have thought driving the support car would have been so tiring. Unfortunately both Dougie and I missed out on a lengthy conversation with the elderly B&B owners regarding the state of British industry and the fact that the people in Britain today would not be able to respond to a war like their generation responded to Hitler; Hugo's so lucky.
Dinner was at a local seafood restaurant. Hugo was so hungry that he threatened to eat the waitress if the food didn't come quickly enough. Fortunately for the waitress the food was prepared before she was eaten and we all enjoyed our meals.
Back at the B&B there was no time before we were all off for a good night's sleep.
11.2 miles.

29 June – The biggest OMG yet. Today is our first serious bit of mileage.
The alarm went off early and I immediately felt sorry for the cow that was dying near by.  However, as my senses sharpened I realised that my concerns were misplaced as it was only Dougie snoring. Amazing how sound travels through two closed doors and along a corridor.
Hugo and I took the opportunity to introduce ourselves to the concept of chamois cream. This is an interesting concoction that is applied to those regions that are in contact with the saddle. A curious sensation that is not completely unpleasant.
We left the B&B, and would you believe it, the owners gave us back a third of the money we paid them for our fund raising – a special moment.
We picked up our route at the ferry point just South of Durness. It took 10 seconds to realise this was going to be a hard day. Mother Nature had taken it upon herself to move all the air from over the Irish Sea to a point North of Scotland, and she was doing it quickly. We were cycling into a gale and managed a top speed of 8mph. Apart from drizzle, rain, and a few major climbs the strong headwind, which lasted for the next 70 miles, was the key feature of the day.
The high points were seeing Dougie tangled up in his fishing line because of the wind and hearing that he had caught a little trout. However, later there was to be grave news as Dougie told us his rod had broken; a very sombre moment.
Hugo was immense in keeping me going and holding the front position for the whole day, but I ended up seriously spent. This could have been because although I was behind I couldn't get into a proper draughting position because of the upright position I needed to keep my neck in.
He tried to get my mind off things by pointing out interesting things around us but, with my neck, I couldn't turn round to see them.
We'll just have to see what Monday brings.
88.65 miles.

30 June – OMG an even bigger day.
The first thing to do was harness up the team of wild horses that were required to drag me to my bike. But after a few miles we got back into a rhythm with the wind slightly behind, some fair weather and a good long downhill stretch. Good start – downhill and wind behind. In fact we made good speed into Inverness.
A little humble pie had to be consumed by Hugo along the way. I had got my phone kitted out with GPS and maps for the journey and Hugo thought that this was a little too gadgety. However, it proved very useful when we got lost.
At this point we had the opportunity to take a direct, but boring, route or one where the views would be stunning – Hugo's words not mine. This quick up and over, Hugo's words not mine, turned into a 4 mile climb. But Hugo saw a doe and an eagle, and we did manage to annoy a shepherd by scattering his sheep, so it was clearly worth it.
Our spirits were lifted when we stopped at the support car and Dougie proudly showed us the new fishing rod he had bought – bless. We had the opportunity to see it action a bit later but, under the spotlight, Dougie seemed to lose his nerve and got tangled up in the trees – three times in a row. I have to say that when Hugo saw his brother fishing he got so excited that he braked very sharply and I barely managed to stop in time.
We needed to head for our next stop-over so joined the fast moving lorries on the A9 which was not a pleasant experience. After Aviemore we discovered the old A9, which ran next to the current A9. This is now unused by cars and so made a very good cycle track.
With about 15 miles to go the strong headwind came back. After 85 miles of cycling this was not funny. At this point I have a bit of a sense of humour failure but get some pleasure from shouting at the road – I guess you'd have to be there. We get our heads down and aim for our hotel in Dalwhinnie. With 3 miles to go I hit 'the wall' and we call out the support car so that I can use it to shelter behind for the final part of the ride. I am completely shattered.
The hotel that night does a good line in loud music and young things running up and down the corridors doing what young people do. I'd  be jealous if I wasn't so tired.
I'm going to miss the Dougie and Hugo show – brotherly love :-D.
100.45 miles

1 July – OMG not more wind
We have to be awake at 5.30, albeit briefly, because Dougie is off to Edinburgh to fly back down south. Hamish, Hugo's son, is flying up to take over the support car job, but it means we won't have any support car for most of the day.
The morning brings tree bending winds and as we set of into open country. The strain of cycling into strong headwinds is getting boringly familiar. Hugo starts to sing. Curiously, his singing is so awful that it does take my mind off grinding out the miles. We even cheer after we complete the first mile.
We try to cycle down the path next to the A9 but it's not suitable for our bikes so we take the decision to dice with the lorries again and do a long section down the A9. The heavens open and things get a little bleak for the next hour. Hugo goes for a combination of cycling down the fast lane of the dual carriageway whilst singing – that seems to hit the spot and everything's OK again.
We stop as it begins to brighten and spot the old A9 again. We cross a field to get to it but it's worth it to get away from the fast moving traffic and we also find that it's more sheltered – bonus. It's at this point that a niggling pain in my left knee and right ankle that began the day before begin to get a bit more noticeable – a few more miles should sort that out though.
We have a bit of a break in Pitlochry. Where Hugo makes a young lady smile by announcing, "God, my arse is on fire", a little too loudly. We cross the Tay over a wooden slat bridge which makes our vision blurry with the vibration. We then have a fantastic ride through beautiful scenery and even see a Hurricane fly low over us. We stop for lunch at the lovely town of Dunkeld. I'm not sure at this point whether it's my knee or ankle that's hurting the most at this point, but the ibuprofen doesn't seem to be working.
We set off towards Crieff on our way to our overnight stop in Dollar. The scenery continues to be brilliant and we even see a barn owl flying along side us nearby.
I begin to realise that I have a serious problem brewing as each turn of the pedals gets progressively more painful in the vicinity of my achilles tendon; it's also beginning to get noticeably swollen. It appears as though the lack of preparation and the gruelling first couple of days has taken its toll.
I greet the news that the support car is on its way, now with Hamish as the driver, with a mixture of relief and anger. Relief that I can get in the car and go to find a doctor in Crieff, and anger that, having started without the right level of fitness and so many other things not working, it should be something completely unexpected that would stop me. So after 60 miles today and 260 so far I get off my bike, give Hugo a hug and get in the car.
Hamish and I find the medical centre in Crieff. There's a minor trauma nurse attending and I explain that I think I've damaged my achilles. She replies, "So you can do self diagnosis". I'm not predicting a good outcome. 
We have some great food at the hotel. There's salsa dancing going on in the next room – I just know Hugo would love to give it a go but he needs to save his legs. Hamish on the other hand would clearly like to rumba with the blond at the next table, but he can't move because he had just eaten enough food to sink a battleship.
As I type I have my right ankle elevated and on ice. I may have to take it easy for a couple of days and miss some sections, but I've got some more painkillers and I'm not done with the cycling yet!
60 miles for me – 91.3 miles for Hugo

2 July – OMG a day in the car :-(
So, walking is tricky and stairs even more so. Hamish has valiantly said he will ride with his dad – what a star! He's not ridden a bike with clip-in pedal or gear shifts that are combined with the brake levers; he's young though, he'll cope.
I help the guys get off on their way, pay the hotel and pack the car up. If I can't be a cyclist then I'll be top notch support service (in joke for HBOS people their).
I track the route they are cycling from Dollar to Dunfermline and they make very good time. I think Hugo is appreciating someone to ride with but Hamish will need to slow the pace down if he's not going to wear his old man out.
The first time I stop we're on a slight uphill section. As they set off the concerned father makes sure his son is OK about getting started and clipping his shoes into the pedals. Hamish sets off faultlessly, Hugo's foot slips off his pedal and he almost falls off. It's difficult sometimes to tell master from student.
I drive ahead to the Forth bridge to get some photos of them coming over the bridge. Hugo is very excited to see the bridge in the distance – each milestone at a time. I park up and hobble onto the bridge. I have a little moment – riding over the bridge was something I really wanted to do. But that thought soon went when I felt how much the bridge shook when lorries went over it. We stop for a quick cup of tea at a Tesco just on the Edinburgh side of the bridge.
Whilst at Tesco I also buy some jelly babies for Hugo. For some reason he seems to be eating them an awful lot at the moment. It's at this point that I realise that I don't have to eat as much today and it's such a relief. When riding you need to take on between 7000 to 8000 calories each day and replace all the nutrients you sweat out. It sounds strange but you get really fed up with eating to the point where you have to force feed yourself. The idea is to keep your weight relatively stable; losing weight would not be good for the last few days.
I arrange to meet them on the other side of Edinburgh. I use the opportunity to clean the car out of rubbish and straighten out the chaos our stuff had got into. We had also done some hand washing the night before so I used the car doors to hang out the items that were still wet – I bet I looked a real sight.
Hamish has done a great job and cycled 40 miles – good effort! Although he does moan about the hills a little. We agree that it's best for him to stop at this point so that he can join Hugo again at the end of the day when he will need the support most.
We have some lunch and Hugo sets off. Hamish and I get my bike into the car and follow Hugo. We soon spot another Tesco. I want to nip in because we are running low on our protein shake mix (each shake is 400 calories – fantastic). They don't have any but Hamish uses the opportunity to have another lunch. Oh to be young again!
We followed Hugo down the A7 to Galashiels but we soon found a rural road that ran parallel. This road had an interesting form of traffic calming. No bumps, squeezes or crossings though, just very large cows – it works though. Maybe I'll suggest it to Borris Johnson.
I can't vouch for this next bit because I didn't see it. Although, I have to say Hugo thinks this blog is a little one sided and there's nothing bad written about me. I guess he just doesn't like the raw, say it like it is, style. Anyway, Hugo told us later that as he cycled through the cows and as they moved away he found himself face to face with a bull. The bull was not moving and a standoff for alpha male ensued. The rugged look and large thighs he's developed over this trip must count for something though because the bull backed down. It must have been a difficult decision whether to cycle on or become master of the herd, but we now know that he cycled on.
One thing I did see was a herd of bullocks stampeding away from the road as Hugo cycled by. Obviously news travels fast among the livestock in these parts when there's a new bull in town.
Hamish and I drove on to find a place for a cuppa. Would you believe we found another Tesco! This one was a Tesco Extra so we were able to stock up on protein shake mix but they didn't have any carbohydrate mix – we are getting desperately low.
Hamish joins Hugo again at this stage to cycle to the final destination in Hawick; another 20 miles – what a model son.
We stay at the Bank Guest House in Hawick. This comes with our recommendation as a great place to stay; superb accommodation. The only down side that Hugo found was that there were too many stairs.
We eat at a local Italian restaurant. Another interesting outcome of endurance sport is that you gradually lose the ability to think, make decisions and talk. I commented that this didn't make for good company but Hamish said that he hadn't noticed – he can't always be grumpy and surly?
Back in our rooms Hugo and I make sure of the route for the next day. Hamish asks when we will be finished because he's very tired – poor love.
90.12 miles for Hugo, none for me :-(

3 July – OMG not another day in the car or will I give the bike a try?
I go into my bathroom in the morning only to find Hugo in there already running a bath. Not a problem you might think, but he was stretching….and naked. I'm not sure if I'll ever be the same again.
Over breakfast we listen to some Crosby, Stills Nash and Young – some great songs I've not heard for a long time. We talk about that era of music and Hamish asks if Aretha Franklin's first name is urethra; we set him straight.
Hugo has lost the use of his brain during breakfast and the preparations but sparks into life once in the saddle – how does he keep going. He does the first 15 miles on his own then Hamish joins him and they cross from Scotland into England at about midday.
We stopped at a roadside café called the Filling Station for a cuppa then Hamish and Hugo set off. I drive ahead and do some blogging and see them go by. After a while I drive off and follow the route they had taken. I'm thinking I must have lost track of time, and they must have gone further than I expected, because I don't find them. Then the phone rings and it's Hugo. They are seven miles off track and Hugo is less than happy. They head back the way they had come and I head towards them.
When I arrive Hugo is trying to get directions from a mobile librarian.
Hamish Has had enough cycling and joins me. He has a damn good go at breaking the car's wing mirror and we head off to buy some sandwiches for lunch.
On the way there we thought we'd have a quick look at Hadrian's Wall. Wile on the Wall we were approached by, and chatted to a family from Minnesota. I could see that Hamish was keeping his distance. I found out later that Hamish had been told that obesity was a disease – I guess he was worried he would catch it. We bought the sandwiches; some for me some for Hugo and 3 for Hamish.
The terrain today has been punishingly up and down. Hugo has an immensely tough cycle.
Later I head off to Conset to fuel up. Whilst there the clouds open and it begins to pour. I realise that the storm is heading towards Hugo and Hamish, who has joined his dad again and I race off in their direction. I get there just in time for them to pile into the car as the lightening starts.
Hugo gets to the hotel in Middleton-in-Teesdale very late and we just eat and go to bed. I have been stretching my achilles and rubbing in ibruprofen and arnica cream alternately; I hope tomorrow I can cycle.
Hugo 101 miles, none for me :-(

July 4 – Down with the British, up with the Union. OMG can Turner get back on the road.
Hamish and I get Hugo on his way and then go for a little excursion went to see High Force falls just north of Middleton-in-Teeside. Very nice waterfall it is too, accompanied by some very interesting geology. I get the feeling that Hamish is starting to get too familiar with me – he's not even feigning any interest in what I've got to say.
Hugo has got off to a great start when we eventually catch up with him. He's full of energy – where does he get it from?. We all stop for a cup of tea. Hamish does some good fund raising and I decide to get on my bike.
So at midday I'm back on my bike. The countryside is lovely, the conditions are fab and I'm relatively pain free :-). Hugo tells me that when he had Achilles problems he was told to cycle with his heels down – i.e. keeping your Achilles extended as much as possible. This seems to work well and Hugo has to keep telling me to slow down.
It has to be mentioned at this point that Hugo's digestive system is revolting. The constant eating of high calorific foods seems to be taking it's toll. This is a problem for Hugo and anyone within a five mile radius! In fact when we stop for lunch I finally find out the answer to the question, "Does a bear shit in the woods". It's a trick question! The answer is actually Hugo so the question should be, "Does a cyclist shit in the woods".  We find out that he has been trained to do this by not less than a Rhodesian Zulu special forces scout. This involves ensuring that you can still shoot whilst in the process – very useful. Well Hugo sis have the excuse of a dodgy stomach but why did Hamish have to do the same, what is it with these Pattens.
We make good time into York and it feels good to be taking the lead and helping Hugo along. Whilst in York we take in the Minster and Hamish nearly gets converted to Christianity so that he can get a free cup of tea.
I take the opportunity to visit my ex's parents. They are lovely as ever and even wash our cycling gear.
We head off south of York and head for our overnight stop in Wressle. Hugo has to make a big deal when we go slightly off track. I suppose I did go on about his detour the day before. Although I do feel vindicated when we see that the sign we should have seen had been knocked off and was lying in the long grass.
We get on the subject of the Romans because we are on a very straight road. I try and take Hugo's mind of the constant cycling by telling him this great story about how the design of the space shuttle was influenced by the Romans. Apparently I just bored him – fantastic!
We are very tired towards the end but see a spectacular sight as a Barn owl swoops into a field to pick up a mouse. Hugo starts to sing the Ning Tong song from the Goons; a sure sign that we need to get to the hotel.
When we eventually get to the hotel we are pleased to find that it's fab and the food excellent.
So that this blog doesn't look too biased I must mention two things about the evening. The first is that I did point out to the staff that the menu had the word slithers in, i.e. slithers of meat. Well, everyone knows it should be slivers. That's not being anal that's just pointing out bad grammar. The second point that I am being forced to mention (notice the subtle change in tone) is that I was a little preoccupied, while we ate, by a rather attractive lady in a low cut dress at the next table – I'm only human!
Hamish goes out to the station and picks up Nigel and Piers who are going to join us the next day. It's going to be great to have fresh legs helping us along.
Neil – 67.87miles, Hugo – 96.12

July 5 – OMG will these headwinds ever stop!
We get ourselves ready at Wressle and get ready to cycle into, what is predicted to be, some pretty foul weather.
Unfortunately the predictions are right. We set off into a strong headwind – it's so good to have Nigel and Piers with us who can take the lead. It isn't long before the rain starts , then starts to get harder, and finally sets in at a steady monsoon. The rain is in your face, dripping from your helmet and spraying up from the other cyclists' wheels – it's not long before we are wet through, but we have the delights of Goole to distract us for a while before heading into open country as we follow the path of the Trent.
We also get the odd sentimental gushing from Nigel who grew up in this area and is obviously reminiscing about his youth – paddle his coracle or hunting mammoth maybe.
We've been heading for Scunthorpe but stop just before that, at the 25 mile point, to have tea in the lovely town of Gunness. We are cheered up slightly when we descover that Piers gets incredibly bad hat head that make shim look like he's got waves going over his head. We have our tea in a delightful chip shop that still sells 'scraps'; if you don't know what this means then ask someone from the north and wait for the wistful tales of going down the chippy as a child. The people behind the counter are very good to us and I get some pangs of guilt about the amount of water we're dripped all over their floor.
For some reason my achilles decides to play up and again I take the prudent option of resting an getting in the support car. I use this opportunity to try and get some of my things dry. The cyclists meanwhile have a great ride down the Ermine way which is an old Roman road and the sun comes out – still very windy though.
Hamish and I travel ahead to Lincoln to get some sandwiches and find a place to eat. We also get some jelly babies, this is a relief as Hugo as become addicted to them and we wouldn't want to be around when he ran out. On our way we pass the airbase at Scampton and see the pub that the Dam Busters used.
We all have lunch together by a church near the centre of Lincoln. It's only as were getting kitted up that we see curtains twitching in one of the upstairs rooms of the house opposite. We eventually see that there are some girls in the room watching us – well, who could blame them. Once they notice that we have seen them one of the shouts to Nigel, "Who are you looking at you dirty old man". Who would have believed that the girls in Lincoln were so articulate and astute judges of character?
I decide to join them again and we set of for a short ride to meet Hugo's mum and dad, Sue and Peter, outside the cathedral. This we do just as a service is finishing and people are parading out of the cathedral with many of the different parish banners. I really wanted to stay to see if any of the banners would take off in the strong winds but we had to press on.
I haven't mentioned this yet but Nigel has a keen sense of direction and guides us using 'the force'. This sense helped us get out of Lincoln, but not before going down a number of cobbled streets – very uncomfortable, and riding through precincts packed with Saturday shoppers.
We cycle for another 15 miles and pass an air display at RAF Waddington. We arrive just at the right time to see a display of the newly restored Vulcan bomber which is a real treat and we have a fantastic view. There are hundreds of people lining the road watching the display. Police were patrolling the road to ensure that thoughtless and criminally minded people didn't stop on this particular stretch – like Hamish, in the support car, and Hugo's mum and dad.
Eventually I have to bail again because of achilles trouble and get in the support car. The cyclists do a splendid job of getting through the miles and I decide to join them for the last 10 miles. I'm beginning to see a link between my ankle problems and the overshoes I wear to keep my feet dry and make a mental note not to wear them again.
Hamish drops me off ahead of the cyclists so that he can head to Grantham to pick up Pete Fisher who's joining us on the Sunday ride. Hugo's mum and dad to a great job of guiding us through the complicated last few miles by waiting in the car at each junction.
Three miles from the finish Piers picks up a puncture but we quickly have it sorted and aim for our stop-over at Grimsthorpe.
We are all glad to get showered and all eight of us have some very good food and lively chat. But, as usual, we are all off to bed pretty sharpish and I have the delights of sharing a small double bed with Pete – very cosy.
Neil – 49, Hugo – 94

July 6 – OMG the penultimate day
We wanted to get away fairly early because we knew rain was on the way but breakfast took a while to arrive. Nigel and Piers, who had stayed in a guest house nearby, had only had continental breakfasts to get their early and they were like two race horses waiting in the stalls and champing at the bit for the doors to fly open.
Guess what? It was windy.
We're heading into the Fens and there's not much shelter. Peter F, being a fresh pair of legs, takes more than his fair share at the front of the pack – fantastic.
We get through the first 25 miles pretty quickly and stop for tea in Thorney. The establishment we stop at turns out to be a little gem of a tea shop and as an extra bargain it's right next to a garage that sells old cars. We all have a good look over the old Triumphs, Austins and MGs. Hugo decides to have some toast, just as a change from energy bars, but can't eat it all – funnily enough it doesn't go to waste.
We set off again but soon it starts to drizzle. It's probably worth mentioning that this is the point where the usually mild mannered Nigel showed us a dark side to his nature. Before I explain how this came dark side came to show itself I have to rewind slightly to the night before. We were all round the dinner table and began a discussion regarding cycling etiquette. When cycling in a pack etiquette can be very important because you can be travelling along at 20 mph with only a few inches between each bike; potentially a recipe for disaster. The etiquette dictates that the front rider shouts, "Hole!", when he sees a major road defect and points to the side, left or right, which it's on. Failure to do so means that the riders behind have no time to react to avoid the problem and get a rough ride. There are other rules about how long you stay at the front and handling junctions that mean you can ride for more effectively as a pack, but that's not important right now.
So, Pete F is the front rider, I'm second and Nigel third. Suddenly Pete F does a little shimmy and I bang into the pothole he's just avoided. Judging by the next bang I hear, I guess hit Nigel hit it too. It's at this point that, above the sound of the rushing wind in our ears, a noise that erupts like a volcano from behind, "Get out of the bloody gutter". I have to say, however, that Nigel does have an extremely nice bike that he treasures and cares for lovingly – definitely something worth shouting about.
In Peter Fs defence we should have known what we were getting in to. Allow me to rewind to the night before again and the subject of etiquette. The discussion soon shifted from cycling etiquette to the dos and don'ts of golf. We should have been forewarned when Pete F proudly announced that he would have nothing to do with golfing etiquette and thought the rules rather ridiculous. Silly us – we should have seen that one coming!
Soon the drizzle turns to rain. We have light waterproofs on but can't get our foul weather gear because the support car has gone back to the hotel to fetch the jacket Hugo left behind.
We cycle on but then comes a call from Hamish informing us that one of the tyres of the support car (my car) has a puncture. We later find out that he actually ripped a hole in the sidewall, which is pretty impressive because Galaxies are fitted with reinforced tyres that are used n vans – nice going big H! We lose a lot of time because I have to be on the phone getting the car sorted out. Because it's a Ford Galaxy, instead of a spare it has a compressor and foam system, but the tyre is too badly damaged for that. Because we are in the back of beyond there are no replacement tyres so the car has to be sent home.
Luckily (which is a strange word to use at this point seeing as we're getting wet and our support car has just died), Dougie turns up with his two boys to wave us on. He quickly gets co-opted back into the support services role (you can never escape!) to get all the luggage out of support car number 1 before it gets shipped back home. Some hasty rearrangements of hotels and Hugo's mum and dad's car is the new number 1 support vehicle.
Dougie has started calling me Lazarus. This is because he can't believe that I got on my bike at Dalwhinnie after the sad and sorry state I turned up in after day 3.
More lashing rain and phone calls about the car. Whilst on the phone I even get asked by a random cyclist to have a look at their brakes – do I look like bicycle repair man?
We stop at the Costa in St Ives to have lunch, warm up and get dry (we even had to ask them to turn off the air conditioning!).
Nigel's knee is hurting, as is mine, and it looks like Nigel is hovering on the point of stopping. Hugo's dad manages to rustle up some industrial strength painkillers which do the trick very nicely. I think Nigel and I could have had open heart surgery that afternoon without feeling it.
We set off again and the weather is kinder in the afternoon, although there's still a fair bit of rain. We also manage a very good pace, which is good after the earlier delays, as we all settle into a good groove with the team riding. The only interruption is Pete getting a puncture just before Saffron Walden.
Sue and Pete also do a superb job of guiding us in the support vehicle. Because we are travelling down country lanes we would normally have to frequently consult the map but at every junction there was the support car pointing us in the right direction – brilliant.
Whilst we thought the close attention of the support vehicle was just the best, I'm not sure that the local population saw it the same way. Unbeknown to us Pete would often hover just a couple of hundred yards behind us causing huge traffic queues to build up. No harm done in the long term though and I believe Pete's honorary membership to the caravan club is on it's way for services to traffic congestion.  
I have to admit to a sense of humour failure at this point. There is a certain event that happens to me for a third time in my cycling history. I have checked with other cyclists and none have had the misfortune of this event and I am starting to feel persecuted. On a long downhill stretch a bee flies into my helmet and stings me on the head. Those of you who saw me the last time this happened will remember my head swelling so much that my eyes closed up – I'm not happy. Luckily we now know that Dougie is a few miles ahead with all the gear from the old support vehicle; this includes our medical kit with antihistamines. The support vehicle races off and luckily I pop a pill shortly afterwards and manage to preserve my good looks (it's my blog, so I'll write what I want!).
After 90 miles we see what is probably the most peculiar sight of the whole trip. In the distance there appears to be someone in the road jumping up and down, waving their arms and screaming. My natural instinct would be to avoid this person who is either clearly deranged or warning us of great danger. As we get closer the fearful image resolves itself into the lovely Kay Fisher and I reassure myself that my instincts are as good as ever. Pete F decides to call it a day and get a lift back with Kay.
Just north of Great Dunmow we shelter from a shower. Hugo gets a call from the guest house in Hawick asking about their keys, I get a call from Sue Phelps saying my car has arrived in Chalfont St Peter and a quick call to Hamish reassures us that tonight's hotel is not far from Great Dunmow.
We shortly find out that Hamish's ability to estimate distance is a bit woolly as we cycle passed a distance that could be reasonably considered 'not far' and the last few miles seem to go on for ever. We also hear later of a little contretemps later between Hamish and his Grandfather over directions around Great Dunmow and the accuracy of satellite navigation – wish I'd been a fly on the wall for that one!
Unbelievably we eventually arrive at Garnish Hall in Margaret Roding. More on the quintessentially English and eccentric Garnish Hall tomorrow.
A big thank you to Nigel and Piers who have made a massive difference over the last two days.
Neil & Hugo - 105 miles

July 7 – OMG it's the last day!
Before I start on the cycling part it's really worth having a little ramble about our stay at Garnish Hall. It was a beautiful place to stay, and the service was excellent, but in a Fawlty Towers kind of way nothing was too much trouble but everything was a slight imposition. It couldn't have been more eccentric if we had been staying with a dozen Patrick Moores.
When Pete F had arrived back the night before Kay had asked the hosts to prepare something for him to eat after he'd had cycled so far. He received cucumber sandwiches with the crusts cut off. However, this was only fair because Kay had earlier referred to Garnish Hall as a hotel, even though Louise was gesticulating and mouthing, "No", to her. So just deserts for such a heinous crime.
The fire bell was just that; a hand held bell. With some instructions underneath to ring it and make sure everyone gets out – fantastic!
Anyway, after breakfast we are joined buy Hugo's brother-in-law Liam. We are pleased but a little fearful of the fact that Liam has an outstanding athletic reputation. When I see him it's easy to see why. The man's built like a greyhound, only more sleek and muscular.
We set off and it doesn't auger well when in the first 5 miles we take a wrong turn and Liam gets a puncture.
Luckily we are soon flying along – then plead with Liam to slow down. Now we are steadily cycling along, and we even seem to be getting lucky with the weather as the promised downpours seem to be holding off.
Naturally we are cycling into a headwind again but Liam is fantastic at keeping the front position. Hugo and I jockey for third position because, whilst Liam may be in front, his slim figure doesn't provide as much protection as we're used to (compared to Piers who's shaped more like a juggernaut!) 
The first 30 miles down to Tilbury pass by as we stick to major roads to cut down on the mileage (we're tired!). The support vehicle is conspicuous by its absence and rumours start that Louise and Hamish may have gone shopping.
The scenery changes rapidly from countryside to downtown Essex, which is a big change from the places we have been. I get a feeling that we're pedalling in the wrong direction but we're too knackered to do a Forest Gump and cycle back the other way.
After asking a couple of police constables for directions we are heading for the ferry and jostling for road space with tankers and artics.
We get to the passenger ferry just as Liam gets another puncture. He says that he hasn't had a puncture for thousands of miles; imagine how we laughed now two have come in one morning once. Hugo sets off to find out ferry details while Liam and I tackle the puncture. In the midst of the repair a gust of wind blows Liam's stuff towards the edge of the jetty and ends perilously close to the edge and the muddy water 10 metres below. Of course give chase to save the day but slip on the wet planks and do a serious Charlie Chaplin style fall. I lie there for a bit while Liam rescues his gear without my help, and absorb the concept of more pain. At that moment a shining angel appears in the form of Hamish with some baguettes, fruit and drink for lunch.
We get on the ferry and eat our lunch on the 10 minute crossing. The support car begins the 1hour trip to the same place through the Dartford tunnel. We grab a quick cup of tea in Gravesend and hit the road again.
The memories of courteous drivers in the north of Scotland are quickly forgotten in the, "my life's more important than yours", rat race of the south. A small misunderstanding at a roundabout leads to a whole stream abuse from a driver – either that or he was keen to tell us, and the whole world, about how he wanted to procreate with a copy of the Highway Code.
On the upside, and you just can't believe what a huge upside this is, is that the wind is blowing over our right shoulders – NO MORE HEADWIND!!! We continue to stick to A roads with Liam in front but now we're motoring. Even a few hills, including a long climb out of Chatham doesn't dampen our spirits. As we climb at 8 mph I remind Hugo that this was the speed we did for most of the first day into the gale.
We're still on the A2 when we shelter form a hard shower but reach the rendezvous with the support car for tea in Faversham. It's just off the A2, downhill and in the wrong direction into the centre of Faversham, but we're gasping.
From this point we cut onto B roads and are treated to the best views and most beautiful villages the Kent countryside has to offer; just indescribable. The support car is doing a great job of keeping us on track now and we're comforted by the return of the close attention. Very soon after Pete and Sue join the cortège. Why is he using the word cortege I hear all you dictionary junkies cry. Well it's because it felt like a ceremonial procession at times when Hugo's dad caused massive tailbacks again. We also have a visit from Mark Sparks; Hugo's oldest and best friend – superb support.
We have a little moment of stress when the support car (Hamish!) sends us off in the wrong direction – downhill! Hugo has a bit of a sense of humour failure but 'm glad to hear from Pete that we've stayed just ahead of the heavy rain all day. Missing the rain! Wind behind us! I guess Mother Nature has given up with us and gone to try and ruin someone else's charity event.
Whilst trying to figure out which way we should be going we hear a loud bang from round the corner. We all guess there has been an accident (which in no way could Pete have contributed to by causing further obstruction by stopping and generally raising the blood pressure of all drivers around him). Hamish tells his Louise that she should go and see if someone has been hurt – I've since informed the 999 service that when the police, fire or ambulance service is not available they can simply route all their calls to Louise. I think a blue light strapped to her head would be good too.
We cycle uphill, passed the accident (no one was hurt) and get back on track.
Would you believe it? After all that distance, Hugo chooses 15 miles from Dover to get a puncture. But something strange comes over Hugo after the puncture. Was it the brief respite, could he smell the sea air or was it just that the end was now so tantalisingly close? Who knows, but the old feller began to press on those pedals and kicked up the pace noticeably. Funnily enough I was finding it difficult to get a similar response from my legs.
We rejoin the A2 not far out of Dover and simply race along. Only making a couple of stops for photographs by signs for Dover. The run down into Dover was blissful and the sea in the darkening evening light looked gorgeous. We get to the finish by the sea and get off our bikes – bloody brilliant!
Some photos, some champagne, a quick change out of our cycling clothes (Hugo manages to flash his bum to the dining area of a nearby hotel – some things never change) and loading the bikes onto the car, then we're off to the pub for a beer!
Neil and Hugo – 90 miles

Summary – OMG what a great adventure!
There are so many highs and lows, and funny and profound events packed into such a small space of time it's really difficult to sum up the whole experience. But if you believe that your memories are the only possession that can't be taken from you, then Hugo and I are now much richer men. Also, if you believe that there is more to be gained in life through helping others then we are richer still – a massive thank you to all who have sponsored us.
Until you do something like this it's not possible to imagine what it's like to push yourself to physical and mental limits. Hugo has been immense in his courage and determination. Mother Nature obviously doesn't like sick teenagers because she tried everything to stop us, but Hugo showed her!
Am I disappointed that I didn't cycle all the way? You betcha! But I'll be back, and thanks to all who have reminded me that I had no particular right to start in the first place.

A big thank you to (in no particular order): -
Hugo – For organising the event and never stopping.
Nigel, Piers, Peter F and Liam – For giving your time to cycle with us. It was a fantastic boost.
Peter and Sue – for your help and being lovely.
Louise – for being a great support and long suffering.
Dougie – for your support and being charmingly chaotic
Dougie's boys – for spending all day in the car and not complaining (to us anyway!)
Hamish – for providing great support, stepping into the saddle at short notice and getting the collection boxes filled (but not for shredding my tyre!)
Piers – for bringing along more carbo-mix
Sparks – for the beers and champagne in Dover
Sparks' family – for taking the time to wave us into Dover
Simon & Paul (HBOS folk) – for the advice on Assos cream and calorific needs.
Nigel & Piers – for the advice on endurance cycling.
Graham F – for the tons of chocolate
Amanda & Greg – you may have bought anti-chaffing cream as a joke but….
Kay – for driving out to see us and the daily texts
Alison – for fixing my neck.
Keith and Margaret – for washing our cycling gear.
Donna (at the guest house in Hawick) – for drying our cycling gear
Mr & Mrs Morrison (B&B in Durness) – for being gorgeous, drying our kit and superb generosity.
Bassetts – for the Jelly Babies that kept Hugo going
The people of northern Scotland – for being so courteous to cyclists
To the people mentioned in this blog – for not complaining about the character assassination
The British countryside – for being beautiful, stunning and diverse

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