LEJOG - We're on a mission from God!

Again the scenery has changed.  No longer are the hills hard and rocky as were the Pennines a couple of days ago which spoke to me with '...so you think the Cornish hills were hard work lad..?  Welcome to Cumbria...' and other such warnings of days to come.

I'm now surrounded by huge rolling hills with broad shoulders and long uphill grades that demand I go low and slow for a long long time.  Also now that the nights are much lighter.  The Sun seems less inclined, like a child on any school day, to go to bed on time..

Yesterday we set of from Moffat towards Glasgow.  Mark kindly says 'I want nothing from you.'  and... 'I'll ride with you to Glasgow to keep you company...'.  Then ' Just know that I want you to succeed...'.  I'm gobsmacked at the generosity and well wishes of every single one of you.

So here we go Blues Brothers style as we prepare to leave Gill and Mark's home far behind....

Mark:  It's 66 miles to Glasgow.  We got a full tank of sausage sarnies, half a pack of flapjack, its not dark... and we're not wearing sunglasses..
Wayne:  Hit it.

We ride out of Moffat onto the B7076 service road that parallels the M74 all the way up to Glasgow.  Mark looks up....

Mark: Shit
Wayne: What?
Mark: Rollers (1)
Wayne: No
Mark: Yeah
Wayne: Shit!

Even in Scotland the Crap Nav still tries to squirrel us down invented long cuts to break our legs and bums just as Ma Boy decides to set fire to his bed!  Where the hell has he got the matches from?

Garmin Crap Nav Nazi Dispatcher:  Use of unnecessary violence in the routing of the Blues Brothers HAS been approved.

Mark:  Illinois Garmin Crap Nav Nazis
Wayne: I hate Illinois Garmin Crap Nav Nazis

Things are now starting to drop off the bike.  A big moment on a 30mph down hill stretch on a cobbly road surface (they make the roads rough and tough here) where my left front panner jumped off the rail but managed to hold on screaming with just one of its fingers.  Wow cheese grater accident narrowly avoided!.  We stop at the Route 74 truck stop to refuel the five bar gate.  Here it is next to the 'any part for any bike' non-support vehicle with it's air brakes hard on waiting for a pump to become free.

And finally, here we are arriving in Glasgow, Blues Brothers style, on my 5 Bar Gate...

Oh how we laughed at Glasgow bus station after a mad ride into the city.  It was the complete opposite of the journey across the Southern Uplands which was cool, fresh, quiet except for the distant growl of the M74, and with a spectacular green moonscape that stretched out for a thousand miles.  Thanks again Mark :-)

The Gentle arms of David and his wife Fiona caught me as I flopped into his garage at their home in Milngavie.  Audrey II looked up with bright beamy eyes and a gentle clapping of excited hands as a big plate of spag bol is placed in front of her.  Yum :-)

Hairy Melon and Brooks are now sore.  He has forced his leathery lips upon her so many times that even the bum cream lipstick is no match for his feverous attempts to get in to her pants.  Oooh how I now hate him.  And he's learn't how to breathe through his ears and snap his hard bony fingers with a click on every rotation of the pedal.  'Don't worry Hairy Melon' I say, ' I'll find a way to keep his rude intents at bay..'

Today is a short run north of Callander.  I need to sort out Brooks once and for all, the nasty git...

(1) Rollers - Big long broad shouldered hills designed to break fat men on bikes...