The ****** left the Youth Hostel in obligatory rain (or so it seemed), heading for Arrochar to catch the train which was eventually to take us to Fort William, with the overnight stop at Loch Ossian hostel. The road was unfortunately littered with roadworks, which had strewn grit and mud, mixed with rain, in many places. Arriving at Arrochar the group voiced their discontent at Michael passing several shops near to the station and proceeding down a long hill to a shop at the bottom. Provisions were duly bought for that night and next morning at Loch Ossian.

On returning to the station, the bane of all visitors to the Highlands were sighted for the first time - the notorious Scottish midge. However, the train arrived conveniently before they could do us much harm. The subsequent journey, thought to be one of this country's most scenic, was marred by the permanent rain.

On arriving at the station at Corrour the rain had not really receded, and so a quick sprint was necessitated to the spartan Loch Ossian hostel. After the location of the dormitory (easy for all but the most idiotic imbecile in a hostel this size), some of the group proceeded to cycle around the Loch's 7-mile track, whilst the more foolhardy attempted a climb of the nearby hill, through midge-infested heather, deer fences and bog. Hence everyone later arrived at the hostel wet (the rain was as persistent as ever). Meanwhile Jason, Andrew and Philip Mills had gone to their supposed luxury accommodation near the station (a small building between the two railway lines although no-one warned them about the 23:50 train).

Michael, using his (debatable) charm, thought he was on to a winner when two young German females asked him to swap their large carton of pasteurised milk for two of the group's smaller cartons. Michael was aghast to discover that they had cruelly deceived him into accepting a two litre carton of UHT milk! Perhaps this was the reason for his dubious "ghost" story in the dormitory.

Despite the enthusiasm of many of the group to participate in the Loch Ossian run the previous night, only two from the hostel left with Tom the warden, a speedy Dutchman and couple of German athletes, that is to say on foot. Most of the group followed on bikes. Unfortunately Jason and Andrew arrived at the hostel late, and so did not benefit from Tom's pacemaking (the 7-mile run is to be completed in under an hour - Tom, the warden, does it in around 59 minutes every day) and regular time/distance checks. The run was eventually completed in time by Jeremy, with Daryl, Andrew and Jason just missing out.

The train was duly caught from Corrour to take us to Fort William, and despite Jeremy's brief bout of illness, the trip was quickly over.

Passing the concrete bin that damaged Michael's bike's top tube on a previous tour the group stopped in Fort William for a while to look around, buy Graham a new pair of levers (he's been hobbling around in third gear) and provisions.

Following a quick ride to Glen Nevis, we looked in, found our dormitory, and prepared for our assault on Ben Nevis.

Having stocked up with chocolate at the hostel store the "assault" began. It was eventually curtailed about halfway up, as we met more and more walkers descending, and telling us how awful it was at the summit. Thus our only consolation was Michael telling us how good it would have been if the weather had been kinder. Unfortunately for the members of the party who arrived back last at the hostel, the showers had been used by quite a few people, and hence turned out to be very cold. Nevertheless, as Michael cooked his meal that evening, you couldn't help noticing the smile on his face, as he realised that the German hostellers from Loch Ossian were also staying here.

Surprisingly, we were again treated to a sunny start and set off to catch the Skye ferry at Mallaig, where we stocked up with provisions. Then we waited, watching the ferry load up with its complicated side-loading system. Being one of the first groups on we sat waiting, as the ferry loaded, in the lounge.

The crossing was surprisingly quick, and the group all managed to get off quickly. Stopping at a "grockle shop" next to the quay where the ferry had docked, we set off to then stop at the Post Office, virtually a tin shed. Then a few miles later the lunch stop was reached, albeit isolated. The next stop was to be the main town of Broadford where provisions were bought at the co-op. Jeremy was somewhat bemused at the lady in front of him in the checkout queue talking to the assistant in Gaelic. Unfortunately Andrew had a brief bout of illness (of which he had complained during the day). Thus it was decided to visit the local hospital, both for Andrew's and Graham's sake, the latter of which had shut his finger in a window at Garramore.

Whilst sitting in the waiting area a certain literary masterpiece was soon found by the group, namely Ladybird's very own version of the "Gingerbread Man". It was this that was to inspire Andrew's modernised version later in the tour.

As Michael waited for Andrew and Graham to be seen to, the rest of the group set off to a cafe further along the route to Glenbrittle.

The rain had become heavier, and coupled with the road running along the coast, it was to dampen almost everyone's spirit. When the cafe was reached a further blow came with the proprietor telling the group that all the space in the (small) cafe was booked for a coach party, and so popcorn had to do. However, the group stood bemused as a horse casually wandered down the road, turning into the cafe as if it were a normal occurrence. Perhaps it's not so unusual on Dartmoor to see horses wandering along roads, but nevertheless it seemed strangely out of place here. Packets of popcorn were consumed by the horse, as Philip jokingly led it (with popcorn bait) towards the door of the cafe.

By now the group was becoming a little concerned as to why this horse was where it was, but reassurance came from the cafe owner who informed us that "Starsky" (the horse) was a regular visitor. Once Michael, Graham and Andrew arrived (and the coach party left) drinks were consumed in the cafe and then the group reluctantly proceeded to ride to Glenbrittle, gazing at hoards of rabbits running up and down the hillside as they passed.

The rain seemed more persistent as we neared the hostel, only having to negotiate a steep downhill with hairpin bends before the hostel was reached. Andrew B had the misfortune to discover that his bike's brakes were not as good as he thought, and illustrated the fact by veering off the road at an alarming speed. However, he stopped (ruining his expensive Sidi shoes and overshoes in the process), and the hostel was finally reached. Having placed bikes in the bike shed and wet clothes in the vastly overstocked drying room the group settled down for the evening, with the only action being Michael cutting his finger whilst preparing his meal.

Just as the group were ready to leave, much later than planned due to wheel truing, Michael spotted the laundry, hidden away in the foyer. Thus, he proceeded to empty the entire contents of his panniers and saddlebag (or so it seemed) to wash them, and by the time the machines were vacant and they had consequently finished their never-ending washing and drying cycles it was very late. Then further time was wasted at the shop down the road buying food, and then waiting around further up the road at a National Trust (for Scotland) building.

Finally the group began to ride up a lane for several miles, which being quiet and undulating meant that the miles went by with ease, but arriving in Kinlochewe, the inevitable prolonged cafe stop came around, and it was not until 1pm that the group got going. Further delay was created when Mark's rear axle gave up the ghost. Jason considerately gave up his bike and walked with Mark's bike towards Carn Dearg, whilst the group stopped at a hotel up the road to arrange for a taxi - phoning up almost every taxi firm in Scotland for the time it took.

However, with considerable expertise and overcoming of daunting logistics, it was also arranged for a cro-moly replacement rear axle to be transported by various means from Perth to Carn Dearg. Thus, after a comparatively normal ride to Carn Dearg, that evening Mark's bike received a major overhaul, whilst Steve's mechanical "expertise" was applied to Jason's wheels, with undesired results. The night was spent with Andrew's "Gingerbread Man", his own modernised version of the book that had provided the entertainment on the hospital on Skye, as well as much laughter over the female warden beckoning Michael into her little shop.

[The report for this ride is currently missing from our archives. Please let us know if you have a copy.]