The next morning was delightful, the sun shining on the blue waters which separated Skye and Raasay. After taking the 0915 ferry back across the water our route took us along the eastern flank of Skye. We were rewarded with the amazing sight of clouds pouring over the edge of cauldron-shaped mountain ridges, and bubbling up around the rock pinnacle known as the Old Man of Storr. It was a sight we will never forget.

We continued around the island to Uig where we caught the 1820 ferry to the Outer Hebridean island of Lochmaddy. It was 2055 when we arrived, but fortunately the hostel was not far from the ferry terminal. Total mileage today was around 43 miles.

On Saturday morning we rode the few miles to Newtonferry where we met the ferryman Mr McAskell at 11am. We had to load our bikes onto a rather small boat in order to travel from the isle of North Uist to the isle of Harris. Not all the bikes would fit in the cabin below, so a few, including Mark Burnard's Moulton (often called the Super Shopper because of its tiny little wheels) had to be strapped on top. It wasn't too badly affected by the salt water, however.

The route took us past the island of Berneray and on to Leverburgh on the Isle of Harris where we had lunch in the café and bought some provisions. We then headed across the narrow, twisty, unfenced roads of Harris witnessing scenery that looked almost alien in nature. Total cycling distance today was around 20 miles.

The hostel that evening was at Stockinish, a remote and peaceful hamlet near the island's coast. When meals had been prepared we all wandered down to the sea to explore. Martin Luke, of course, had to explore further than everyone else: he stripped off most of his clothes and swam through the icy waters to an island several hundred metres out. To his credit he got back again, and still didn't appear too cold as he picked his way across the rocks and grassy verges towards the hostel.

On Tuesday we set off early for the long ride north. The road signs here reflected the limited number of roads and road users in the area, one sign saying simply "The North". We followed that road as far as Drumrunie and then forked left onto a minor road that took us past a very distinctive mountain called Stac Pollaidh. Many of us couldn't resist the challenge of climbing to the top, which introduced a delay of an hour or two.

Continuing along the road we then forked right onto a road known locally as "The Mad Little Road to Wester Ross" - mad because it twists and turns all the way to Lochinver. From there it was just a short ride the hostel making a total of around 35 cycling miles.

It was Tuesday night when we experienced one of the finest moments of the tour. The hostel at Achmelvich, near Lochinver, is located near another silver sand beach. Once again we had a glorious sunset, but this setting was simply out of this world. It really isn't possible to convey the beauty and solitude of this place - you will just have to go there with us in 1992!