We stayed a little later in the pub last night as it was raining heavily outside so to warm our spirits we finished off the night with a wee tipple of whiskey. Back at the camp site I opened my van door to find rain pouring through my roof collecting on my sleeping bag in a large puddle. After ranting and swearing to my wife about my unfortunate situation I gave into the fact the only option was to kip in the front of the van and sort it in the morning. After a very restless cold night without a sleeping bag I gave up and got up at 4am.
While the rest of the camp site slept soundly I quietly slipped away on my bike. I packed a Mars bar for breakfast and a bottle of water and headed up the north road. I felt strangely fresh even though the taste of Talisker was still strong in my mouth. Just as I left the camp site and I realised I hadn't put my gloves on and it was icy cold. So I cycled on with one hand in my pocket and one on the handle bar.
The wind had dropped and apart from the clag that hung on the shoulders of the mountains the sky was cloudless. I got as far as the Storr car park, roughly 5.5miles from camp but without my phone I thought my dad may worry if I was nowhere to be seen. So after my morning chocolate snack I headed back.
Cycling doesn't get much better. The roads up here are perfect considering the harsh weather they get up here. I got back to the camp site, a few people starting to wake now including my dad. Just a little time to dry out my sleeping bag, fix the hole in my roof before the start of another blustery, rainy day on the misty isle....
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