Mind the Gap

This is a rough start.

We realized not long after Martin left that the bikes didn't quite fit us. The saddles on both of our bikes were about 3 inches too low, and we had to bike 10 miles too many before we could find the Allen wrench to fix it. The rain was steady but faint, the sky heavy gray but occasionally yielding to an insistent sun. We were good enough to bike to the train station in Paisley to get into Glasgow, where we could transfer to Milngavie.







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As we biked, through our first (training) roundabout and off into the suburbs, we immediately noticed something remarkable about Scotland. That the houses in this suburb were most likely older than many American cities. That the overgrown and fungal walls had seen at least as much time pass as the cities of the Pioneers.


Beautiful.


And breathing, I should mention how easy it was to breathe for a city. What a scent...a sort of musky-woody essence seemed to follow us everywhere. (The Scots seem to have distilled this and drenched the lobbies of hotels, distilleries, restaurants, and anywhere else with a plaid carpet.)

***

We would settle the saddles in Milngavie and start on the West Highland Way. 100 miles separated our bikes in Paisley and the destination we still hadn't picked out in Fort William. Fortunately, because of the northward latitude and summer skies, we assumed we had until 9:30pm to get there before sundown.

This was probably the most reasonable assumption we made all trip.

The trains are charming, by the way. The voice that informed you of the upcoming station was pleasatnly Scottish. At every station, the voice also informed you of impending peril at every (dis)mount.

We became keenly aware of this the first time we tried to carry our 50 pound bikes onto crowded trains destined for the heart of one of the biggest cities in Scotland. We also learned that a bike doesn't fit into station elevators very well--much less two bikes--but that backing-in the first bike made things slightly better, and that putting the bikes head to tail was necessary, though none of these precautions guaranteed a bike pedal wouldn't jam itself into your shin.

Not that this will matter in almost exactly 24 hours and 35 miles, where there won't be an elevator.

The trains are punctual, by the way.

***

Slightly scarred and breathless, we arrived in Glasgow Central Station.

Check the shorts

I can't speak for Jason, but I was a little self-conscious about how I said "Milngavie," especially now that I had to purchase a ticket. I had only heard it a handful of times from Roblee on the plane and was working from that. I rehearsed and rehearsed until I was ready.

"Two tickets to Min-guy please"

"What's that?"

"Uh. Mi-lin-gie?"

"Mul-gaie ya mean?"

"Yeah that, two please"