Day 5: That is not a cycle path...

We push off from Aviemore late morning. My body is slowing down and my head is heavy. Two miles later I have a rest in a lay-by. Beside us there is a garden full of freaky characters made out of flower pots, riding bicycles and wearing Halloween masks. Don't ask me what that was about, some people are plain wrong!

The road was nice and reasonably flat and although mountains loomed to the left and the right I get the feeling Elsa has broken the back of the Scottish highlands. After lunch in Kingussie I battle on to Dalwhinnie, the end of day target, and reach there by five. Pause...rest...pant. Dalwhinnie is tiny and there's no use staying here. I decide to push on a couple more miles, if only to make tomorrow less of a mental challenge. A mile out of Dalwhinnie we come to the cycle path. A sign tells me we're about to go through the Drumochter Pass, where the path will rise up to 457 m (we're currently at about 240m). Bollocks. So tired, drained, and now we're about to head through a pass in the mountains that belongs somewhere in the Lord of the Rings trilogy. Can it get worse?

Yep. The van trundles slowly down the A9 to a lay-by a few miles on, and I hit the cycle path. Which, by the way, is a foot wide, and made of compacted mud and covered in stony grit. Skating on this is like riding a bicycle in water. Horrible. Three miles on I see the van parked up, thank god. Dimitri has crossed the road and walks towards me. "Do you want the good news or the bad news?" he asks.

"The bad."

"The bad news is the van has lost reverse and first gear"

"What's the good news?"

"There isn't any."

I get in, mope a bit. Then we drive to Pitlochry and call in the AA. They reccommend taking the van to a mechanics. We call out a gearbox specialist from Dundee, they leave just after midnight, charged us £60 and left the van as it was. Perfect.

Tired, aching, emotionally battered, someone is testing BoardFree UK.