I’m wearing my yellow tee-shirt. I think I deserve it. After all I’ve completed a tour of our peninsula, a distance of 12.8 miles. It may have taken me THREE hours, but there was the glorious Peaton Hill to experience en route. I know now why they call bicycles push bikes. I did a LOT of pushing today, up hill and further up hill and still further up hill.
Typically Scottish, this hill has hidden bends unseen from below, which lull you into a false sense of being near the top. You see another incline ahead bend into a corner and appear to drop a little, until you get near to the bend and find yet another steeper incline beyond. By the time I did reach the top, I was dripping, literally.
My euphoric state of having reached the top was rewarded by the thrill of a run down the other side, at least it was thrilling for a while, then we got to the really steep runs down, the black runs for cyclists, and my euphoria evaporated with each wheel turn. I was burning rubber. My brakes worked well, but with the constant pressure of being held against my wheel rims, they were beginning to protest. This is where the soon to be a pensioner ( and get my bus pass!!!!!) mode kicked in. If I had been a youngster I’d have let the brakes go and flown down the hill at hair-raising speed. As a relatively recent returnee to cycling, I was less sure of my ability to stay in the saddle at speed, so I chickened out and held onto my brakes! It was a long hold- a VERY long hold. I thought the bottom of the hill was never going to come, but it did, and I survived in one piece, although I think I may have to buy myself a new set of brake pads!!!
All that I had left to do was cycle to Cove, Kilcreggan and then home. Easy by comparison, and thankfully there were no real hilly inclines to encounter until I exited Kilcreggan. It was delightful to cycle this shore road along Loch Long. The sun was shining and traffic was almost non-existent.
Light flickered over rippling water and a slight breeze cooled my fevered brow. My legs, though tired, responded to the easier cycle and we were soon in Kilcreggan. A quick splash of water on my face, a refill for my bottle, and a text to assure that I was on my last lap home were all the preparations I needed to tackle the last hill. Absolutely minuscule by comparison to Peaton, but with difficulties of its own. The ditches on the road edge are deep, an ankle turning experience for an unwary pedestrian, axle-breaking experience for an unwary driver, and not the place for any cyclist to swerve. I walked the line, the white line that edges the road, keeping my bike between myself and traffic. I’m sure every one of the thirty or so cars that passed me cursed my presence and their need to lessen their speed to avoid me. But I walked on, pushing my bike onwards and up.
Thankfully, the summit was reached and I could mount my wheels and enjoy the thrill of whizz ing down the hill towards home. I was careful about my partly-worn brake pads, but still managed a good turn of speed, or so I thought until another road user swooped past me. It was a cyclist this time doing at least double my speed!! I rounded the corner into our drive and remembered the time I’d found cycling it difficult and stop-worthy. Not today. I’d had bigger hills to climb!
Peaton Hill was ascended and descended. It will NOT be revisited!!

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