UPDATE: The total collected was £1507.51 - well done lads!
The protagonists:
The boys immediately give Stuart the slip by going into the Land's End Hotel to sign the "end-to-end" book. Stuart drives off, increasingly mystified as to why he hadn't caught up with them yet.
The planned meet-up in Penzance doesn't happen because Stuart is in B&Q at the time (instead of Safeways - an easy mistake to make???). Stuart eventually catches up with the cyclists a few miles later, only for Pete to suffer a puncture shortly afterwards. This gives Stuart the opportunity to discover just how short-lived cycle shops are (in Camborne, anyway).
Arrive Bodmin Moor, overnight stop in Mount, a very pleasant location indeed. Kim starts lusting after the young lady serv... well, you get the general idea.
First stop outside Launceston: Pete fails to unclip his shoes in time and, still attached to the bike, falls over. Fortunately, he lands on a patch of soft grass. This point marks the end of the "Are we still in Cornwall?" gripes, and the start of the "Are we still in Devon?" moans.
Some severe hill climbs in the vicinity of Crediton are punishing, but on the plus side we'ere off the dual carriageways so there's much less traffic.
Stuart spends much of the evening meal lusting after the pretty young thing on an adjacent table before he realises that she's no more than 15 years old. Back to the drawing board...
This day sees the boys polish off the last little bit of Devon, plus all of Somerset. Being mostly downhill, it was a whole lot easier <insert sound of author getting lynched>. Note to other cyclists wishing to follow the route: The Avonmouth area is not particularly kind to the lungs!
After a day's abstinence, Kim is back to lusting: this time it's the woman cleaning the telephones at the Severn Bridge motorway service area.
In order to qualify for a family room at the Travelodge, we have to make out that Pete was 7 years old. He assists in this deception by leaving his pack of Farley's Rusks on the counter at reception.
Start bright and early (NOT!). Lunch at Callow (well, a cafe on the A49 near Callow) south of Hereford. Overnight at the Travellers Rest Inn, Upper Affcott (4 miles south of Church Stretton).
The strain of going up all the hills is beginning to tell on the cyclists, and the strain of coming up with new things to say is beginning to tell on the author.
Pete asks Stuart to get some apple-flavoured Farley's Rusks in Shrewsbury, but Stuart buys some apricot-flavoured ones instead. Hearing (and colour-blindness) test obviously long overdue.
Lunch at a pub on the Llangollen Canal just north of Whitchurch.
The set of punishing hills finally runs out not far from Oulton Park race circuit. "It's all downhill from here."
Depressing increase in the number of lunatics on the roads (excluding the two on bikes and the one driving a yellow van, natch).
Overnight stop in the Travel Inn, Wigan.
Pete keeps asking "When are these hills coming, then?" Kim assures him "Soon enough."
Lunch just south of Lancaster: the boys don't seem too keen on the climb to Shap. However a swift downpour at Kendal soon changes their minds and they just go for it!
Finish off the day with an excellent curry at "The Indian Palace" in Kendal. This is far and away the best Indian meal I have ever tasted, anywhere.
Useless information time: One of the few surviving stretches of 3-lane road (a.k.a. "head-on collision almost guaranteed") can be found between Kendal and Shap.
Into Scotland at last! The boys make an unscheduled stop in Carlisle, thus leaving Stuart stranded for an hour at a Little Chef on the A74, some 4 miles from Gretna. That place to be renamed "Purgatory".
Our good luck with the weather is but a distant memory: starting off in rain, finishing up in rain, and although much of the day's cycling is in the dry, the rain clouds are chasing us all the time. The overnight B&B is exactly on the route: makes a nice change.
The filthy weather arrives just as the boys are getting togged-up to start, and the showers seem to last longer than the gaps between showers for the whole morning.
Lunch at the Leadburn Inn is interrupted by an old couple who had set out from Glasgow to Dumfries but taken a wrong turning at Moffat.
An impromptu change of route leaves Stuart waiting for 90 minutes at a Little Ch... well, you get the general idea.
Not raining quite so hard today.
From Forth Road Bridge to Perth before lunch. Pete now less concerned over the stiffness in his knee. On the A9 north of Perth, we encounter 3 people hauling a cross southward along the edge of the road. Apart from the usual "Jesus Saves" angle it is difficult to work out why they were doing it.
A punishing day's cycling, mostly into a headwind. Still ahead of schedule, albeit only just.
Evening meal at the Port na Graig restaurant, Pitlochry. Kim claims not to fancy the waitress, which puts him in a minority of one...
People said this couldn't be done in a single day, but the boys were willing to give it a try. And they did it! No rain, but still a strong headwind to contend with.
Hotels in Inverness were fully booked. Reason unknown. After some driving around we finally hit upon a hotel (sorry, THE hotel) in North Kessock, where we stay the night.
A lovely start to the day: puffy white clouds and not much wind. Able to make good time as a result. Clear blue skies in afternoon.
Pete suffers yet another puncture 10 miles from Brora. And guess what: the cycle shop in Helmsdale closed down a few years ago...
The boys finish off the day with the climb out of Berriedale: far and away the hardest climb of the journey.
Overnight B&B in Helmsdale: very pleasant.
Overcast but only a slight headwind and, thankfully, no rain.
The journey to Wick passes without incident. 4 miles north of Wick, Stuart decides to park the van in the entrance to a field, citing "lack of lay-bys around here." In fact there was a lay-by half a mile further along the road. Brain transplant on order.
Cycle into John O'Groats at 1:30pm, bang on schedule. Congratulatory beer at the John O'Groats Inn, then everyone piles into the van for the long drive home.
Before I forget, the route home took in Dunnet Head, so we have been to the most northerly point on the mainland. Ner ner ne ner ner....