Cyclist

Anne Smillie

2004

My story refers to a day in 2004 when my friend and I cycled 80 miles in one day. It was a record for both of us.

Background

I cycle quite a bit. For someone of 56 years of age that is, I cycle quite a bit. The year before I became 50, I rediscovered my bike in a big way and my friend Jan and her husband were very much a part of the whole thing. We did the Pedal for Scotland cycling event as the numbers seemed significant. 50 miles: 50 years of age, and that was the start.

Previous project

Whenever you mention anything to Jan it becomes a project. Husbands and children immediately change the subject, but Jan rises to every challenge: other major projects include the affectionately titled: 'Ruby's Erection' (this was probably the beginning of our beautiful friendship); 'The Driftwood' and the spectacular Beallach na Ba Challenge. Once Jan hears about a project, there is no doubt. It IS a go-er.

I simply mention all this to give some background to previous projects.

Ok we're getting to it now, be patient!

I've cycled over 11,000 miles on my current bike but fifty miles had been my distance limit until one Sunday morning I got a call from Jan asking if I had seen the little article in Troon's local 'Going Out' paper. I said that I had seen it but immediately ignored it. The reason? It was inviting participants to join in an '80 mile leisurely cycle around the byways of Ayrshire.' Aye right, I thought, that will be right; but knowing that if Jan was involved, a project must be on the cards.

First of all, I thought, '80 miles? You must be joking.' Secondly, when I saw who was organising the event, I didn't relish the prospect of spending a day with a bunch of aging sweetie wives. Where did I get the impression that these extremely fit cyclists were sweetie wives? Maybe I didn't want to face the fact that these old men (as I saw them) would consider 80 miles a nice wee day out , not a blooming marathon! If we're going to do this, I thought, we're doing it on our own. Thirdly, what I was really thinking was, 'There is no way that the two of us could do 80 miles.' A 40-something and a 50-something working mother pretending to be real cyclists? I don't think so. However as we talked, we gradually became hooked on the prospect. I was willing to do this. I had been waiting to do something like this and I wanted to do this. Why? To do something that was for me: not for father, mother, sister, brother, children or husband - me: to satisfy a vague sense of; what am I doing here? Where am I going? What have I actually achieved with my life so far? What could I achieve if I put my mind to it?

We pored over maps and sorted out our route. I spoke to other cycling chums at work who offered advice. 'Did I ken that the left fork out of Coylton had some sair hills to get ower?' 'Did I realise that the road from the Star at Loch Doon over to Straiton was no more than a mucky forest track?' 'Maybe the mobile phone network would be unavailable the further into the hills we got?'

THE BIG DAY- 4th July 2004

We were ready. We set off at 8:30 but we could have gone during the night for all the sleep either of us had managed! At the start, Barassie Beach, and at each place, we stopped to take a photograph of the village nameplate to prove to ourselves that we'd done it: Monkton, Sandyford Toll, Mossblown, Coylton, Patna, Dalmellington, Loch Doon, Straiton, Ayr, Prestwick, Troon.

It was an amazing day. As usual in Ayrshire, we encountered rain, sun, wind, heat and cold all on the same day. There was a real feeling of being "off the leash." The heady scents of rain on the road, damp earth, farmyard smells, the occasional intoxicating, elusive balsam poplar fragrance, together with the contrasting colours of yellow evening primroses, purple foxgloves, and the vibrant blues and suggestions of red of the viper's bugloss plants, all combined to make an extravaganza for the senses. It was the kind of day that makes you feel like shouting with sheer exhilaration. We measured the 80 miles off in segments of 10 miles at a time, usually stopping for a drink or a snack at these intervals. We had morning coffee at the swimming pool cafe in Dalmellington, and discovered that the pool attendant was also a keen cyclist who offered some information and advice about the track from the Star at Loch Doon over the rough road to Stinchar Bridge. We relished lovely home made soup at the end of Loch Doon where the first of the cycling group we had chosen not to go with finally caught us up, and as always, we savoured the fabulous home baking at The Buck in Straiton. Some of the time we talked, some of the time we were engrossed in our own thoughts in our own 'zone'.

Jan's husband made us a fabulous dinner in the evening and he had even printed a special menu in our honour:

We had champagne and got lots of congratulations from our husbands and children. Neither of us could believe that we had done it. I still think about it and can't help feeling that as a result of that day; doing all the research, psyching ourselves up and actually doing it, has left both of us with a sense of being able to do anything we put our minds to. One of the best compliments I had as a result of the day was, 'Now you are not just a woman on a bike Annie, you're a real cyclist!'