Thursday 14th June 219 Miles
1117 Total
It had been an interesting night and one where I was destined not to sleep. Storm Hector had well and truly arrived during the early hours. The first time I was woken was just after half past two. The rain was lashing down, with gale force winds howling past the window. At one point I thought someone was trying to break in through the fire door, as it was rattling in its frame so much.
The winds died down after about an hour and I drifted back off to sleep for a while. But, it wasn't only windy outside. Johnny had been perfecting his syncronised farting and snoring technique all week. And tonight he seemed to have nailed it. Perfectly timed, with a fart followed by an equal length snore at a constant rhythm. Luckily the room must of been well ventilated as no ill effects were noticed other than sleep deprivation.
But, Johnny was not alone in his efforts. An aural accompaniment was also coming from Stu and Alison in the corner of our room. Stu was snoring in his usual barking walrus style, while Alison was snoring like a little chugging Lister diesel engine.
I got up just after six. There was a definite calm after the storm. The sunrise had lit up the sky in a carnival of pinks and oranges. I took a shower to try and wake myself up a bit. Finn was also up and about enjoying a spot of breakfast. We chatted for a bit and soon the others began to appear. The morning chat turned to the weather. As I now had WIFI and phone signal I was able to check the CalMac website and Twitter feeds for updates on our ferry sailings. I would have to wait until eight for the latest update. We all hoped for the best, and that we would be able to get back to the mainland today.
The weather reports on the TV didn't look good for this morning. We were right in the storm, and it would be following our route until around lunchtime when it headed back out to sea again.
But, it wasn't all bad news. All of my bike kit had dried out. I was still worried about being cold again today though. I had removed all of the thermal linings from my suit and left them at home. I wasn't going to need them was I? It was the middle of summer! Stu then suggested the old timer trick of wearing a pair of tights under your riding pants. I was prepared to give anything a go after yesterday. So, I set off into town in search of some tights or leggings.
It was just before nine. But, it appeared that Stornoway didn't open until 9:30. I found a sports shop which had a selection of mens and womens leggings in the window. But, the shop was closed on Thursdays! After a lap of the whole town, the only shop that was open was the small CoOp supermarket. They had a selection of hosiery on display at the end of the toiletries isle. Ranging from the heavily laced patterned type preferred by ladies of the night, through to the heavy tan coloured ones worn by your Gran. Not wanting to look like a transvestite street walker, I settled on a pair of heavy denier black tights suitable for the larger lady.
Back at the hostel it was time to get changed. Well the tights seemed to fit my manly curves just fine. I could feel the benefits almost straight away. And, not just the lustful stare of a giggling Stu. So, it was on with the rest of my bike gear and we all prepared for our journey to the ferry at Tarbert.
The ferries appeared to be running with a few delays according to the website. Just as we were leaving the hostel most of our phones received a message from the CalMac update service. It was funny how everyone's phone started beeping at the same time.
We had allowed plenty of time for the ride over to Tarbert. It was thirty five miles to the port which usually takes about an hour. It was two hours until the last check in so we should be ok. Robbie led the way out of a Stornoway as the rain began to fall once more. There was lots of tree debris in the road as the trees were getting a really hard battering from the gusty winds.
Right now we were protected by the buildings of the town. It was sure to get more interesting as we headed into the countryside. As we climbed the hill out of town the gusts of wind became a constant strong wind blowing from the right. Battling to stay on the road and not head into the ditch where the wind was trying to send us, required constant firm pressure on the left handle bar grip. This was fine until the wind eased off where we would head straight across the road as if we were making a tight right hand turn.
We kept our speed low. Forty mph felt like a suicide mission. Following Robbie he appeared to be leaning over on to the side of the tyre at about thirty degrees. Looking at Finn in my mirrors, he seemed to be doing the same behind me. So I assumed I must be riding leant over too. Although it didn't feel as exaggerated as the others made it seem.
As well as the wind, rain and road spray were causing more danger. Doing our best to keep to our own lane and not have a head on collision with other traffic, the wall of spray created by the trucks and coaches caused a complete temporary loss of vision as they passed by. It was not a fun way to travel.
About halfway to Tarbert, Robbie pulled over into a carpark. He had lost the sight of some of the clan in his mirrors and wanted to make sure we were all together. Stu was struggling with his large BMW in the side winds. He was going to plod on at the back and catch up with us at the port.
We got on our way and headed for the mountainous section over the Roinebhal summit plateau. As we climbed my bike struggled to pull third gear when heading into the wind. The rain began to increase, and the streams of water on the road could be seen overtaking the bikes such was the strength of the wind.
Eventually the town sign for Tarbert came in to view. A matrix sign a the side of the road confirmed the ferry was still running, so we joined the queue of cars at the ticket booth. Shortly after we arrived Stu and Alison pulled up behind us looking a little weather worn. But, we were all safely back together and hopefully shortly on our way back to Skye and the mainland.
The queue up to the ticket booth was slow moving. Finn managed to upset the grumpy ticket man when he didn't want all his paperwork back. It seems very antiquated to not have some kind of phone app or paper less booking on system these days. Perhaps CalMac is working on something for the future.
We were parked up near the barriers by the staff who apologised for the fact the ferry was about twenty minutes late. We told them we were just happy it was still sailing. We all headed over to the terminal building to escape the cold and keep dry.
The bikes were loaded in two batches, some at the bow and the rest at the stern. I was selected for the first group so was allowed to board as soon as the ferry docked. It was the same ferry as we had used on Monday, the MV Hebrides. I headed up to the rear lounge and grabbed a few tables and seat for us all to sit together. It was much busier on this crossing, and seating quickly became a scarce. The others soon joined me, and the ferry quickly got underway. The Chief Stewart announced on the tannoy that there may be some movement in the ship on this crossing. The was his way of saying it was going to be a bit rough!
I headed to the restaurant with a few of the other for some lunch. I can highly recommend the food on the CalMac ferries. I had an amazing plate of fish and chips. I just hoped I wouldn't be seeing it again soon, if the crossing was to be a rough one.
The crossing while slightly turbulent at times, turned out to be a not as rough as first thought. But, a couple of young girls still had to be rushed to the toilets by their mum to avoid messing up the floor coverings. It was quite warm in the rear passenger lounge which probably didn't help.
After my huge fish and chip lunch, and having missed part of my morning routine due to a lack of toilet paper at the hostel I headed to the gents to take care of business. The toilet cubicles on a ship are compact at the best of times. Factor in trying to wrestle out of a pair of motorcycle pants and you have even more fun. It was then that I remembered that I was wearing my tights. Such was the comfort they afforded, it had totally passed my mind that I was wearing ladies undergarments. It wasn't something I was thinking of doing on a regular basis, but I can understand why some men feel the need.
Safely seated I then had the realization that taking a dump on a ship sailing across a stormy sea in a gale force wind was probably not the best method of achieving a smooth bowel movement. The icy kiss of the water in the bowl on a bare buttock as the ship gets thrown around certainly concentrates the mind on the task in hand.
The rest of the crossing was spent chatting about the mornings events. I bumped into one of the cyclists from the hostel in Berneray. He had managed to get to Tarbert yesterday, and just found the first B&B he could find. He got changed out of his cycling gear, and completely shattered slept for ten hours. He had given up on exploring the rest of Harris, and was headed back to the mainland to stay safe. I explained our ride this morning and that he had made the right decision.
Then all too soon the Chief Stewart announced that we were shortly arriving in a sunny Uig. What would the rest of the day bring? Now that the worst of the storm had passed we could only hope the rest of todays ride would be less dramatic.
Here is the vlog of the mornings events
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