LEJOG Blog

"Bridgewater, we have a problem!"

So serious was deemed our problem that I was referred immediately to Robin Thorn himself. He said that on very rare occasions, lumps do fall off Rohloff hubs. He talked about short-term solutions and long-term solutions. I pointed out that I had superglued the hub back together, had managed to get some tension in the offending spoke and that in any case, we had been riding on the hub for at least 100 miles since I noticed the buckle in the wheel which my fettling had reduced considerably.

Robin had another solution: take the bike to a good, small bike shop where they know what they are doing and get Bicycle Repair Man to drill out another hole in the hub and fit an over-length spoke in place of the offending one. Robin himself would track down the said BRM, I would visit him en route, the repair would be carried out and everyone would live happily ever after.

Robin found the said BRM and after some faffing, gave me his phone number. His name was Mike, he worked The Bike Bothy in Brora and he was primed with what he needed to do.

I phoned Mike. I was in Tain at the time (as everyone knows, Tain is the home of Glenmorangie whiskey) and Brora is something like 20 miles along the Sutherland coast. Mike was quite reluctant to tackle the job. He felt, as I did, that the principle of "leave well alone" was quite a good one: the bike had done a lot of miles since the break had occurred and my superglue was holding the spoke in place, even if it wasn't doing all of the work it was supposed to.

In my view, this whole episode puts a big question mark over Rohloff hubs. What does Robin Thorn mean when he talks about "very rare occasions". How often does a hub break before a spoke? I have never come across this situation before with other makes of hub. OK, our tandem has taken a good deal of punishment over the last three weeks in which we have done a fair amount of off-road. I think it was the Great Glen way that caused the damage, no doubt aided and abetted by the enormous bulk of riders and luggage. Pilot and stoker weigh more than 27 stone and the luggage must push us up over 30 stone. That, on a rough surface, puts everything to the test and we clearly found Panaracer Pasela tyres to be inadequate for the work we wanted them to do, whereas the Schwalbe Marathon Plus seem equal to the task.

The bottom line is that Rohloff hubs, retailing at about £700 a throw, should not have a fundamental flaw in them. If something is to break, it should be something the rider can easily replace, e.g. a spoke, not something that could put the entire tour in jeopardy. I don't think I could now take my Rohloff-equipped bike to Patagonia with any confidence.

But enough of Rohloffs and superglue. Today's ride began in Alness and very soon the A9 was the be-all and end-all of our existence. It wasn't as busy as many an A-road in south east England but the traffic came in waves and it was fast. As often as we could, we rode to the left of the white line.

We had elevenses in Tain and a very fine cake shop it was. We made for Golspie at lunchtime and sat in the drizzle eating sardines straight out of the tin. We looked for a loo in Brora but decided not to trouble Mike the Bike in his Bothy. It was getting late, so we held a council of war in Helmsdale. We phoned the B&B at about 5:30, telling them that we still had about sixteen miles to do and that we would find food before we arrived.

I had suspected from the way the map showed zigzags in the road that there was a big climb immediately after Helmsdale but we were not prepared for the climb we had. It was monstrous. I was worried that the slow pace enforced upon us would mean that we would miss our meal. Up we went, further and further, with marvellous spectacular views along ravines and out to sea. We reached a summit of sorts, allowing some descent and climbed again. Then we reached Berriedale.

I had been warned by the guy selling ferry tickets at Ardrossan, himself a Helmsdale man, that the hill into Berriedale was quite spectacular. So it was, but I didn't want to give the tandem its head with the rear wheel problem and in any case, I would have been held up by a coach whose tyres smelled as though they were on fire. Even so, we reached over forty miles an hour.

The hill north out of Berriedale is not such a git as the Helmsdale climb, being much shorter, but it takes you right to the top of Caithness. From that point, it is a glorious fast run all the way to Dunbeath.

We stopped at the Inver Hotel, where food was still being served but just to us, or so it seemed. There was one other couple in there briefly, but thereafter we had the place to ourselves. The view across the bay was most dramatic.

Toremore Farm was only about half a mile up the hill from the restaurant, so we were soon bathed, in bed and ready for the final day of this epic adventure.