Lock-in

It’s flippin’ cold here in Scotland, and I’ve had to put the heating on AND don two pairs of socks…in early September. Meanwhile a lady in Utah told me it was expected to reach 80 degrees yesterday.

A very welcome rest day on Saturday, to work on the route some more, make phone calls and send emails – which included writing to “unsuccessful” applicants, one of whom sweetly replied :

Sorry I am out of your scope of travel. Meeting other Scots who we still send cards to, I know you must be a really nice person. Good luck to you as I continue each day playing 2 people. Sally

The only time I ventured out was to visit the allotment for herbs to add to a pasta dish. As usual the gate was open, but while I was at my plot, someone locked it and I didn’t have a key. I was able to climb over it; but what about my bike? Somehow, in stages, I was able to lift my bike part of the way over the eight-foot gate, balance it, climb over the gate, lift it a bit higher, climb back over the gate, turn it this way, climb again, turn it a bit more, etc, etc. It was like the puzzle with the farmer trying to transport a sack of corn, a chicken and a fox across a river in his boat, which will only take two items at a time. Why he would want to take a fox in his boat is neither here nor there. Eventually, bike and man were both safely over the gate, with only minor scratches to hands and panniers. Several cars went past during this episode, although of course no one stopped to offer assistance. It’s nothing to do with them right? People in cars, hermetically sealed from the outside world...

Dundee

T minus 9 days...

Oh dear, yesterday was not good from a cycling point of view. I had an appointment in Dundee at 5.30 and of course opted to take the train only part of the way, to Perth, then rode a circuitous journey, via Scone (Scoon – home of the ‘Stone of Destiny’, on which, by smiting a sword, new monarchs pledged allegiance to God and country) and Abernyte. This was a very hilly route and there was a stiff head wind all the way. It had been my intention to cycle back to Perth, but I chickened out and took the train from Dundee to Glasgow. The clock showed a mileage of 32.5 and an average speed of 10.2. Oh dear, oh dear. I actually feel weaker than usual this morning, as 20 miles against a whistling wall is harder than 60 miles in calm conditions. It’s no excuse though, as I won’t have the luxury of hopping on a train if the going gets tough in deepest darkest Utah. I suppose this wind (and fortunately for me not the rain that lashed parts of England and Wales yesterday) is connected to the hurricane activity in the Gulf.

My gears have been playing up. I think the gubbins – the chain and cogs – are on the way out after all this training. Some gears are “crunchy” and others are jumpy. Fortunately my old bike will be having a tiptop service before we leave. Whereas I’m having a total body transplant.

Then I got a puncture.

The photo is of a man in Alaska excitedly watching TV during the investiture of Sarah Palin as the Republican Vice President. He is one of several American stereotypes I hope to meet.

Nice people

T minus 10 days...

I’ve received a wealth of emails from the four corners of the USA and all over the world, some of whose senders are geographically challenged. Others have simply written to wish me luck - like the lady from Texas who attached this team photo. I bet there are no Scrabble club T shirts in boring old Blighty. Americans are full of enthusiasm for any kind of pastime and put a lot of effort into their endeavours. They don’t do things half-heartedly and moanily like us Brits. I wonder if there are Scrabble cheerleaders?

Oh dear, my average dropped to 13.7 mph yesterday. It was mostly sunny, yet the temperature has been dropping every day and coming home I pulled my jumper sleeves over my hands. So, my steed took me south-east, through David Livingstone’s birthplace, Blantyre (Blanta, with a soft T), Hamilton, the luscious Clyde Valley, Lanark and I meant to finish in New Lanark, but somehow ended up in Carstairs, where the State Asylum is. Maybe that IS where I’ll end up. New Lanark is one of my favourite places in Scotland (http://www.newlanark.org/) mainly for its stark-itechture and the riverside walk to the waterfalls.

One of my prospective opponents in Seattle has sent me the two and three letter words from the American list. I need to try and learn these and unlearn excluded SOWPODS words.

No Adrian in Adrian

T minus 11 days...

I’ve never been to me and I won’t be going there any time soon either. Edna in Adrian, Oregon, cannot play me on September 28th, as it is her wedding anniversary thereabouts and her husband of (almost) 49 years has booked a holiday for the two of them at the coastal town of Newport, which I’m guessing they don’t go to very often, seeing as it’s 535 miles down the highway. This resort is within the same state, which gives an indication of the enormity of this country. I don’t know how going to a beach for a few days could prove a more attractive proposition to playing Scrabble with yours truly though…

Received some more niggling news in the shape of this email from a prospective opponent in Pueblo, Colorado :

Hello Adrian

I was concerned when I read your blog today....I only hope you are prepared for the altitude. We are at about 4700 feet and you will be coming down when you get here.....and it is all downhill from here. I mentioned on the phone that the weather can be very unpredictable in the fall...I have lived here three years and there has always been a storm, in Oct, between here and Denver that shuts down roads for a day or so. You may have to be prepared to alter your schedule. As for altitude, drink lots of water, rest when adjusted to the change. Dress in layers and be prepared for the cold
and wind...there can be very strong winds. I am starting to sound like your mother....but feel free to ask any of us you have made plans with if you have any questions or concerns.

Good luck....Patricia

On a more positive note, I averaged 14.3 mph yesterday on a trip to Irvine on the west coast, via Nitshill, Roughmussel, Lugton and Burnhouse. Who is responsible for these place names?

The hinterland

T minus 12 days...

Yesterday I was out on my bike for another 60-miler. I travelled east to Linlithgow, birthplace of that old pub quiz favourite, Mary Queen of Scots. Averaged 14.7 mph on the way out! Although I had been lounging about the flat for the previous three days, and there was very little wind. Two miles before arriving home my average had reduced to 13.9, so of course I manically pedalled the last bit to get it up to 14. There were some showers and it was cold.

Glasgow and Edinburgh are the two largest cities in Scotland and less than 50 miles apart, yet the bit inbetween is a kind of “land that time forgot” wasteland. There are all these ex-mining villages and dreary towns, that no one ever goes to except for the people who live there and oddballs like me, who are drawn to depressing places. The countryside is sometimes surprisingly attractive, in a gentle, subtle way and there are some crumbly old farmhouses, but by and large it’s a disconsolate part of the country. So, today I whizzed through the nasty towns of Coatbridge and Airdrie (it’s OK, people who live in these places would never read something like this). Then through the villages of Stand, Greengairs, Slamannan, Avonbridge and Standburn. All desperate, with two lines of featureless, grey houses edging the road. No thought has gone into the layout or look of these villages and no one cares. The High Streets in the towns are full of fast-food joints, pubs, off-licences and bookies. Most of the adults are fat, and smoking as I pass them. Teenage girls walk about playing tinny music on their mobile phones, identically-groomed teenage boys wear shellsuits and fearsome expressions. Here individuality is verboten. One youth on a bike rode straight at me, to impress his friends. A dog also attacked me; a yappy black monstrosity raced after me and bit my ankle!

Standburn is the saddest of the lot. All the houses are plain until you come to this one huge nouveau riche affair, with its purposeless white pillars. Unlike the other houses it is surrounded by a fence and also features a triple garage. My belief is that it’s owned by a local lad made good, who rather than move somewhere nice, had this vast pile erected to rub the neighbours’ noses in his tasteless new money.

There’s a wind turbine near Airdrie that takes your breath away, because unusually it’s right by the road, so you can truly appreciate the scale and seems straight out of science fiction. In Linlithgow there’s a pub called The Black Bitch, which is nothing whatsoever to do with black people or women, but a dog - that appears on the town’s coat of arms. People born here are also known as black bitches and apparently proud of the fact.

Sunday Post

T minus 13 days...

Beautiful sunny day after several gloomy days, which is especially welcome for me as I’m training today – and for the next three days. Looks like the Weather Gods are smiling on New Orleans as well.

Today I had another visit from a newspaper, this time the Sunday Post, published by DC Thomson, who also produces the much more highbrow Beano and Dandy. Endless questions, about online Scrabble with my brothers, why we played the game when we were children, memorable words, etc, etc. Then it was a jaunt to the local park in the sunshine, to pose in front of flowerbeds, with the obligatory props of bike and Scrabble board.

So glad to get out on my bike again in an hour or so. I don’t care where, as long as legs are whirring round and lungs are gulping in country air, which is noticeably crisper now that autumn has arrived. Exercise hones the mind as well as it tones the body. I have been a bit down in the dumps recently, cooped up in the flat doing stuff towards the trip, as well as my normal work. I just want to get on with it now.

Weathering the storm

T minus two weeks...

Nearly eight hours sleep! All eyes are on old Monsieur Gustav as he lumbers towards the Louisiana coastline. Here we have the rainy component of a hurricane - for two days solid. I tell a lie, the sun has just made its first appearance in three days. Meanwhile in Rock Springs, Wyoming, a potential opponent informed me snow had been forecast for today. On September 1st! However, I also spoke to a man in Evanston, in the same state, and he said it was supposed to return to the 70s the following weekend!? This extreme variation can be explained by the facts that Evanston is (a) 800 miles from the sea and (b) at an elevation of 6,749 feet. The highest I’ve ever cycled in the UK is about 1,600 feet. It’s 80 miles from Salt Lake City (at 4,226 feet) and I was planning on doing that in a day. It looks so easy on a map…

So, my article appeared in the Scottish Sunday Express. Half a page with a full colour photo… On page 51. Apologies for the quality. The gist of it is accurate, but the quotes are almost entirely made up and I never mentioned drinking wine.

I’ve started playing a new game of online Scrabble with my brothers, Anthony and Neil, and the first seven letters allocated to me were the rather good RADIOST, which contains a bingo (seven letter word). Neil had his go first and Anthony second. Anthony played a bingo himself, ending with an S atop the mid-right triple word square. I was able to play a nine-timer (straddling two triple-word squares for a total of 140). I admit I looked up the word, as we play “cheaty” Scrabble online. I’d be interested to know if anyone can work out what the word is without cheating. So, I have the letters RADIOST and I want to play an eight-letter word around an S as the seventh letter.