An early start after not nearly enough sleep. 

0400 the alarms went off; dressed and bacon rolls and out the door at 0445. Me and her and Tom. 

After a bit of faffing around, we ended up at Haymarket with the bikes and boarded a tram to a darkened Ingliston for the start of the Pedal for Scotland experience. Bikes loaded, we slumped into seats at the front of the coach and as the black of night gave way to the grey of day, we arrived at Glasgow Green and the start line for a 45 mile bike ride back to Embra. Me and her had doen it a few years back - possibly 2014? She was keen to do it again and Tom was up for the challange back in January when I signed him up but as the day got closer you could see him doubt the wisdom of his bravado all those months ago.

No sooner than we stepped off the coach and the heavans opened. Thankfully not for long, but enough to make jackets go on before we crossed the start line. 

Tom marvelled at Glasgow at 0800 with no one about and all the shops closed but soon settled into no traffic roads and ploughed on up the High Street and along Duke Street; hardly a cracking pace but steady. The mantra for the day was'just finishing is a result; its not about how quickly you do it'. 
An hour to do the first nine miles to Coatbridge. A cereal bar, a banana and some water and off with the jacket. Then the lumpy quarter; mostly up with occasonial down followed by yet more up. Tom coped well enough; the lower end of the gears getting a good work out. She too plodded on fine style; benefiting from a decent pair of wheels for once. An hour and twenty minutes to reach the 22 mile mark. Half way in good nick. Tom was rosy cheeked and visibly wilting.

Salmannan was uneventful; the lure of home baking offset by the long queues so again Tunnocks Caramel Wafers and bananas were ingested and off we went. A couple of sharp climbs were negotiated with the aid of handfuls of Rowntree's Randoms and after a long hard climb out of Avonbridge it was a speedy and smiley descent to Linlithgow and lunch. Passing 30 miles seemed to perk Tom up and he managed to hit the 3rd stop in the grounds of Linlithgow finally beleiving he could actually do this. 
45 minutes of standing around in almost sunshine before we slightly stiffly negotiated the last upward bit for the next 4 or 5 miles before the wind blew us down the hill through Winchburgh and on to Kirkliston; brightening all the time, the chatter returning as the endorphins kicked in and the finish line approached. 

Down the last descent and into the showground and done. 6 hours all in; a disbelieving but understandably proud boy, a delighted 'her' and I too enjoyed the day immensely.

Back onto the trams; she went off home we negotiated the final 7km home, picking up Alex on the way.

Baths and big dinners and tired lounging on the sofa ensued. 2 x 100 km days in the same week? I think I earned it.

Big Belter next year? (97 miles) Although I wonder if the Tour de Forth might be better? One to consider.