Day seven: the other end

"We didn't want to do that."

The perils of predictive text showed their ugly head while doing the day 5 blog in the very early hours of this morning. Aside from the few spelling mistakes that I know are in the blog, instead of me decorating Lotty's bonnet, it was almost published as me decorating Lotty's boner...

Later on this morning (8am, since I know you're wondering) after greasing Jock's towball with the only thing available (copper grease) we left Jamess and set off on the arduous 2 mile slog through Inverness to Morrison's for breakfast. Duly fuelled, we did the same for the cars and headed off, as is usual on the Friday of LEJOG, up the A9 to John O'Groats.

Aside from Tinker having trouble passing the distillery again without veering into the car park, the only real trouble we had was being overtaken by a Discovery towing a caravan, which ended up overtaking other cars uphill, and eventually turning into a caravan site maybe 20 seconds quicker than if he'd just stayed behind us.

"That was close. They nearly had us there..."

We came upon what was left of a bump, it looked like a young lad had rear-ended a Volvo and was in the back of a police car having words with them. The road was clear however, so we breezed on through.

"This is too easy..."

The run up the A9 went another than ever before: weather was good, traffic light, everyone together and not long after the village of Loth (nearly home, only one letter missing) we were at our normal loo stop at Lybster.

"Right. Time for a change of plans."

Most of us refreshed, we had chance to get down to the harbour, park the cars directly in front of the lighthouse and get some cracking pictures.

Terry talked about fishing again, we spotted some tiddlers in the very clear waters of the harbour and he spotted a much larger fish out by the sea wall. One of these days he's going to find a way to bring a rod...

During coffee at the harbour cafe, I suggested another change of route to encompass a visit to Dunnet Head, which as you may know is the most northerly point of mainland Britain - that's right, John O'Groats is actually south of there.

We agreed it would be a good run, filling up at Wick on the way up rather than on the way down, when another of the cafe patrons suggested yet another change of route.

Shortly after Thurso is an A road running roughly north-south called the A897 which eventually joins the A9 on our route back. It came highly recommended so we decided to take it on the way back. More about that later though...

"We can do this, and they'll never trace it back to us..."

We went to our usual fuel stop at Tesco, and Terry was forced to use a Pay-at-pump. This was so confusing for him that he nearly filled up with diesel... but he was not as confused as David who parked us in a trolley park...

David drove us up to John O'Groats and we drove round to the roundabout. One of the first things to catch my eye was the LEJOG hotel, derelict for some years but recently purchased and undergoing a refit. The outside of it however is currently an art project by a number of artists. It currently looks like a cross between a Portmeirion taxi and the cover of some kind of right-on kids anti-drugs leaflet. Maybe next year it will have been finished.

Myself and Michelle ended up queueing to book for official photos. Now, the current photographer at John O'Groats has been something of a celebrity amongst LEJOGgers for some time, for all the wrong reasons: his clue disappeared a long time ago... he had to be corrected on his spelling several times when filling out the sign post, even though he had read the wording from the back of Michelle's fleece, and his attempt at wheresdennis.co.uk was just as bad.

We wore our disguises for the photo... not sure when we'll get to wear then again...

"Do you think someone knew we were coming?"

Our pictures taken and a few bits of tat bought, we made our way towards Thurso with the sea on our right and we were soon at Dunnet Head, for a bit of a stop off. They're obviously a bit worried about theft, as the information "shed" was strapped down to the car park...

Carol was taking many pictures of Alex (the name we've given to the LEJOG bear) using my camera, as hers had run out of battery, and she managed to get one of my head poking round the Dunnet Head marker stone...

After a while at the summit and observation point, we headed off towards Thurso, and after a quick look across the fields at Dounreay we turned on to the A897 just before Melvich.

"Put your foot down! Put your foot down, we'll lose them easy"

And what a road it is. Definitely the best route we've ever taken on LEJOG, and one that has got to be in your list of greatest British roads. The word awesome is often overused but personally I think it's suitable for this road.

It's an A road, but is actually single track with passing places along the entire length. It rolls up and down and although mostly straight on the map has a wonderful flowing run that sticks a smile to your face like no other road I've ever driven. Truly it's what Minis were made for and I hope it becomes a permanent part of the LEJOG route.

About half way down it we made a toilet stop at Forsinade Station, much to the delight of some of the residents who I don't think get many visitors. Suitably refreshed, we carried on down, still grinning (and in some places laughing!) till we got to a fork in the road. No knives or spoons though.

This fork was recommended by one of the chaps at Lybster, and in a Mini with raised suspension and a sump guard it would have made a good road to blast down. Of course ours weren't set up like that so we had to pick our way through, over some chunky grass filled cracks and through even chunkier gravel, but we made it back to the A9 eventually. This still didn't detract from the A road we'd turned off.

"Well, we did it. Jolly Fisherman next."

And so in comparison, the A9 back to Inverness was a little dull; but then it is anyway once you're on the way back from John O'Groats. Apart from a few muppets it was uneventful, and after visiting Morrison's again for supplies we rolled back into camp, ate our food, drank our tipples and all agreed that this year had been the very best LEJOG yet.

Of course it's the people who make it as much as the route itself, it's the journey not the destination and all that, but before I tell you about everyone comparing Mini war wounds, and the story of Terry being treated by a vet for hepatitis, I'd like to thank him for organising the run, Linda for being the Governor, Carol and Michelle for leading so expertly (except thru Fleetwood), David for being a good sport throughout and James for coming up with so many uses for gaffer tape...

Bedtime calling, we eventually retired for the evening, in preparation for a very long drive back to Skegness. But that's another part of the adventure...