We are staying at The Eagle Hotel:irene@eagledornoch.dial.netmedia.co.uk

We cycled. We ate. We cycled. We ate.

Most of us spent half the day trying to avoid the traffic on the A9. Dave, however, was slightly worried about the entry a few days ago saying that he'd done nothing dangerous. He, therefore, spent most of his time trying to slalom between the cats' eyes with no hands on the handlebars.

Actually, today was something of a record in that everyone had arrived by half past seven.

Some good slip-streaming was done, although there was fierce competition not to end up behind either Dave (for reasons mentioned above) or Simon (due to the fact that his bum has withered to the size of a small walnut, and therefore offers absolutely no protection against the headwind).

108 miles and counting...

Monument to the Commandos just outside Fort William

Thanks to Sue, Dave and Sandra, who apparently managed to travel some 700 miles in a day to encourage us as Ruairi's groupies

A. We have yet to find anything that he doesn't.

A. Generally yes, but we're mostly rushing to do this web site in the hour between getting in and going to bed. Our lives are really that sad.

A. No, but JCI was close to being hammered by everyone else yesterday (apparently: this is being dictated by CLK, who himself has remained remarkably free from the antagonism of his colleagues).

A. Baggie has found most, including sprinkling it on his breakfast cereal. Whether he has also been ingesting it in different ways in the privacy of his own room is a question we cannot answer.

A. Tender.

A. Remembering to re-adjust your social habits at the end of the day, and not burp, fart, and play with your personal bits when you're in the pub.

A. That was Dave, with his cycling shorts rolled up.