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Friday, May 15, 2015
Continued from last post.
At 4:45pm I depart on the MV Hamnavoe heading south. Farewell to you Orkney!
Following 26 nautical miles of travel, the ferry arrives to Scrabster on the mainland of Scotland. Welcome to the highlands!
Generally when you start at sea level, you’re going to be going up to go anywhere. Here comes a hill! After cycling 2.2 miles (3.5 km) I arrive into Thurso at the hostel where I have booked a private room. They don’t have record of my booking and are full. Wow. They call a B&B and they have a room. They then walk me there. The room at the B&B ends up being cheaper than the private room at the hostel, so it actually all works out and I am in a much nicer place with breakfast included.
In August 2014, I started the largest personal endeavor of my life: researching my family ancestry on all sides. I have continued to work on this while I have been traveling and now the time I have spent exceeds 400 hours. Four days ago I learned the name of a cousin who is still in the town my ancestors left. As of yesterday I have his phone number.
I give Michael a call.
Saturday, May 16, 2015
I wake at 5:45am. After breakfast I depart, first stopping at an ATM and then am on the road out of Thurso on Princess Street. Princess Street becomes National Cycling Route 1. It is sunny with low winds.
It is not long until the wind turbines are moving and then comes on a bit of rain. At 8:50am I arrive to Reay, having cycled west 10.8 miles (17.4 km) at a pace of 7.62 mph (12.27 km/h).
The view after leaving Thurso: green pastures with sheep and windmills.
Half an hour after leaving Reay, I arrive into Mackay Country. I am from the land on which I stand.
Welcome to Mackay Country.
Note: In Scotland, 'Mackay' is pronounced similar to Mc-eye. The origin is Mc Iye, meaning son of Iye.
Srathy comes 9.2 miles (14.8 km) after leaving Reay, having cycled a pace of 6.99 mph (11.25 km/h). There has been a bit more wind and rain.
Cycling route between Reay and Strathy.
After leaving Strathy at 10:31am, the wind becomes awful with a steady 25 mph (40 km/h) and gusts of more than 30 mph (48 km/h). And with the winds is a heavy rain. When I am coasting down a steep hill, it is very noticeable as the gusts come and go, as I feel them slow me down and then I speed up again as I coast.
I arrive into Bettyhill at 12:15pm, having cycled 10.1 miles (16.3 km) at a pace of 5.83mph (9.38 km). I am late. I dislike you, wind!
Cycling route between Strathy and Bettyhill.
I am at a museum in Bettyhill and there is a bagpipe march that was supposed to have started at noon. It was supposed to start at the war memorial and end at the museum, and I have no idea where the war memorial is, but see many people at the museum. I go to the car park (parking lot) and ask a woman if the march has started and where it begins. She asks if I am Tyler. Yes, who are you? It is Frances, who I have been put on emails with as I have done my family research.
The march has not started yet and Frances sets me in the right direction to catch it at the beginning. I cycle down the main road and then turn off to a narrow road that goes up a hill. As I am nearing the top, the march is just beginning. I head back down the hill, staying ahead of the march, stopping periodically to watch, then heading off before the march reaches my location.
I end up back at the museum where the march ends. I meet Margaret who I have also been corresponding with through email. She works for the museum. I see the museum, the upstairs being dedicated to the Clan of Mackay, that of my ancestors, and my blood.
After seeing the museum, I enjoy some tea and biscuits (cookies) and pan bakes (brownies and bars: items baked in pans). From the museum, I cycle back up the hill that I came down into Bettyhill. I stop at the house described to me. Christeen Mackay, 77, lives here and Margaret put us in touch. She is expecting me and has me into her home. We sit in the conservatory (sun room) and she brings in two binders of documents, the first being genealogy reports and the other being copies of documents and photos. From where we sit, we see her sheep grazing on the hillside.
After spending quite some time talking and reviewing her information, we conclude that we are related through the marriage of her 2nd great aunt to my 4th great uncle. The piece of information that really made us know we were connected somehow was that she had a copy of a photo of a gravestone that I also had in my records from finding online. From there we just had to track out the relation.
Reviewing ancestry.
Christeen has been a crofter (farmer) for 50 years, since she married at age 27. Before that she worked in a post office. Her and her husband have sold all their cows and this year are thinking of selling all their sheep. They have 180 sheep plus more than 120 lambs born this year. She tells me that they have three collies and one is 'retired.' I ask if she is jealous. Laughing she responds, "yes."
I leave Christeen’s home about 6:00pm and cycle back down the hill, past the museum, up another hill and am soon at the Bettyhill Hotel. I am given a free upgrade from a room with a view of the car park and which shared a bathroom, to an ensuite room with a view of the sea. And the view is incredible.
Photo Gallery – Thurso to Bettyhill: Cycling Day 7
Daily cycling stats:
Distance: 30.1 miles (48.4 km)
Moving average: 6.74 mph (10.85 km/h)
Sunday, May 17, 2015
Today is like going home.
I leave the hotel just before 9:00am. It is sunny, but it is a bit windy. I am cycling with blue skies above and it starts to slightly rain. I look up and verify that there are no clouds above, yet it is raining on me.
Cycling route west of Bettyhill.
It is a bit windy, but not as bad as yesterday. There is a large hill that I am able to coast down for free distance. Reaching speeds of over 35 mph (56 km/h), it is a joy! Around 10:40am I arrive into Tongue.
Arriving into Tongue, the Kyle of Tongue to the west.
At 10:50am, I arrive to St. Andrew's Church, after having cycled 13.1 miles (21.1 km) from Bettyhill.
Photo Gallery – Bettyhill to Tongue: Cycling Day 8
St. Andrew’s Church in Tongue.
My 3rd great grandparents left Tongue in 1849. All their siblings remained. Some of my cousins in the U.S. did some genealogy research more than 20 years ago, but none made a connection with relatives still in Scotland. After acquiring the work they had done, I moved forward. This is my mom’s dad’s dad’s dad’s side of the family. I hope that makes sense.
I park my bike on the backside of the church. With some time to spare, I pull on some pants (trousers) over my cycling shorts and change out of my cycling shoes into my other shoes. I am here for the 11:00am service.
After the service, a man comes up to me as he probably noticed I am not from here. I tell John that my ancestors are from Tongue and I have just arrived into town. I tell him that they lived on a croft in Dalcharn (a small area of four crofts (farms) within the greater area of Tongue). He says that he owns one of the crofts in Dalcharn. I tell him it is old number 3. He says that he wouldn’t know the old numbers. I tell him that I have a document on my phone that has the old and new numbers (a larger area was renumbered into a continuous sequence, so each area no longer uses the original numbers). “It is now number 80,” I let him know. “That is the one I own!,” he responds. This is unbelievable. John invites me to come over in the afternoon. Note: Dalcharn is pronounced as if the ‘c’ is silent.
As soon as I am done speaking with John, a woman sitting directly behind me gets my attention. She confirms I am Tyler and then let’s me know her name is Carol and that we are cousins. What!? That just happened!
Hi, how do you know who I am? Michael, the cousin I called two days ago, had let her know he had received a call from me and that I was coming. Carol and Michael are 1st cousins in relation to each other. Michael was here at the service but saw I was fully occupied with conversations so headed home, where we already were scheduled to meet.
Carol and I go outside into the churchyard and she shows me to some gravestones of family members, of which I don’t yet know exactly how they fit in and how I am related, as I still need to wrap my mind around how Carol and I are cousins!
After Carol heads home, I go in search of the gravestone that I was already aware of being here, the one that is in the photo in the binder from yesterday. I find it. It has a lot of lichen grown on it, making it hard to read. I spend five minutes rubbing and picking away the lichen from the engraved text. It is now legible.
St. Andrew’s Church graveyard.
St. Andrew’s Church was rebuilt in 1680. My ancestors have been going here for more than 300 years. They have been married here and now are buried in the graveyard. I attended here today with some of my cousins!
From the church, I cycle to Michael’s home. As soon as I am inside, his wife, Isobel, offers to do laundry for me. And let’s me know that lunch will be ready soon. Michael and I start talking. Lunch is sandwiches and soup and Isobel keeps bringing out more sandwiches and refills my soup bowl. I feel pressured to eat what I am served and end up eating four sandwiches and two bowls of soup.
After lunch, we review our genealogy. We are 4th cousins once removed. My mom is the same generation away from our common grandparents as Michael is, that being their 3rd great grandparents (my 4th great grandparents). And then since I am the next generation away, but Michael is not, we have ‘once removed.’
Michael is an auto mechanic and crofter. The home he lives in is named ‘Viewforth’ and was built in 1905 by a stonemason that his grandfather hired from Bettyhill. His grandfather, John Mackay (1873-1938), was a shoemaker, a very good one with his shoes being shipped all over the world. John “Shoemaker” Mackay, as he was known, had the first vehicle in Tongue. Viewforth was the first house in the area with piped water, had electricity as soon as it was available in the area in 1957, and the first house to have a phone number. The phone number is 205, and with the numbering starting at 201 for the post office, it was the 5th phone number set up in Tongue.
Michael’s father, Donald (1919-2006), was born in this house and so was Michael. Michael’s grandfather, John, passed away before he was born, but the “Shoemaker” name still remains. Even with a surname, there were so many Mackay’s that common names still needed another name added to distinguish them and they carry on generation after generation even if the first person to have the name hasn’t overlapped the future generations, it is like a second last name, it isn’t a nickname. The name is used when talking about a person when they are not there, to clarify who is being discussed. Michael is referred to as Michael Shoemaker and Viewforth is called the Shoemaker house. I hear both during my time in Tongue. The whole concept is fascinating to me as in Michael’s lifetime, there was not a shoemaker living in the house or that he personally met. Shoes Michael has made: zero. He is an auto mechanic, yet will always be a Shoemaker.
John Mackay was a man of business. Besides being a world-class shoemaker, he started a lorry business for transporting goods. With his lorries (trucks) he also transported coal to all the schools in the area under the contract he obtained. These businesses are likely why he was the first home to have a phone number.
As I have started to learn from others as well, most people in areas like Tongue need two jobs to survive. Crofting alone is not enough to make it. So most people both croft and do something else, that being the local auto mechanic for Michael, what he makes most of his income doing.
After my time at Viewforth, Michael drives me the few miles to Dalcharn, which I actually saw the sign for on my way into Tongue this morning. We arrive there about 4:00pm. He was planning on picking me up later but John said he could drive me.
The odds that John and I would meet at the church and the fact that he owns this croft are quite low. This is his holiday home (vacation home) and he is only here a few weeks a year and when here he doesn’t always go to St. Andrew’s Church. Last week, a woman named Mary sent me an 1832 map of Dalcharn and census records showing my ancestors living on this croft. So I was going to come and see it, but odds are that John would not have been here. My ancestors lived here starting about 1830.
The house where my ancestors lived starting in 1830.
John grew up in England and in the 1960s moved to Scotland. In 1965 he bought Dalcharn 80 for £60, when he was 19 years old. He has taken exceptional care of it, keeping as much original as possible. He tells me in the 50 years that he has owned it that I am the first person to ever visit as a member of the Manson or Mackay families who originally lived in it.
In 1995, John did quite a bit of work on the house. Where there would have originally been a hen house on the back, he added an extension that is the master bedroom. At that time he ran water into the house and added a bathtub and sink and a septic drainage field to go with. The appliances run on propane: the refrigerator, cooker (oven and range), instant hot water heater, and lighting. He never liked the idea of adding electricity to it, which would have put power lines across the openness, disturbing the view. The other three crofts in Dalcharn have electricity, but Dalcharn 80 is the furthest from the road and far away from the next closest house.
The floor still has the original flagstones. The fireplaces at each end of the house are original, including the mantle pieces. The upstairs has a fireplace on one end of the house, but it is no longer used. The upstairs has two bedrooms and nice, large skylight windows. The windows were added in 2012 when the roof was replaced. At the chimneys outside, the stones remain that protrude at the height of the original thatched roof, but it hasn’t had a thatched roof since before John bought it. Other than the recent skylight windows, all others are original, the upstairs ones being small at about one foot square.
The view my ancestors would have had every day.
The stairs to the upstairs are the original and are steep like ships ladder style, however they have been rotated in orientation to go up from the opposite side of the house, to improve the floor plan, creating the space for the bathroom.
After giving me a full tour, we have tea inside. We talk more about the people that lived here, as John has always been interested and done a lot of his own research, knowing a lot about my family that I have not yet learned. John gave the house a new name: The Last House Dalcharn. He figured no one would have trouble finding it. The name is the directions!
The Last House Dalcharn with the current owner, John, and the heart of ivy he has been growing on the side. This house has been loved!
The farmland of my ancestors.
At about 7:00pm, John takes me to Woodend, where Carol lives. I meet her husband, Robert. Their home is named Kintail, which is the original name for the Kyle of Tongue from more than 300 years ago. (‘Kyle’ means strait.)
Carol and her husband, Robert, were both teachers. They have moved back here for retirement. In the backyard there is a wall from the 16th century or earlier, and a mound, which they believe covers the remains of an old home from a cotter (squatter). A field in the distance has the buried remains of an ancient building. They have found an axe from the Bronze Age in the area. Carol’s mother lives in the home next door.
At about 10:00pm, Carol drives me to Viewforth, where my bike is. I cycle to my hotel in the center part of town, what is called the village. The area is so small that you could pass through it with never having the thought that it was main street for the town.
There is a single track road to Sutherland, the one I cycled on, and the government has never invested to improve access. With only having a single track road, it influences potential industry and tourism. Note: A single track road has the total width for only a single vehicle, not a single lane going in each direction. Vehicles can only pass where there is a 'passing place,' an area that has a turnout for one vehicle, with that short area being the width of two lanes.
I have two beers in the bar, trying to take in the day, and then head to bed.
Daily cycling stats:
Distance: 13.1 miles (21.1 km)
Moving average: 6.66 mph (10.72 km/h)
Monday, May 18, 2015
After breakfast, I walk down the street to Frances’ home. She takes me on a drive and gives me a tour of the area, showing me many old homes and telling me their connections to different people I have met and some of them are connected with my family. Even her home is connected to my ancestors, but she wasn’t sure of the exact connection.
There is a causeway that crosses the Kyle of Tongue. It was built in the 1970s to shorten the distance across, compared to driving around. We drive across and go to the Tongue House estate. The countess of Sutherland, who is now 94, owns it. The Sutherland family is responsible for the clearances, when people’s land was taken away and they were forced off what had for a very long time been their land. The estate used to be a summer home of the Sutherland family but now is barely used, about one week a year, the rest of the year it sits empty. However, there is a full-time gardener that takes care of the property, he’s been doing it for 15 years. Imagine that, taking care of gardens for 15 years and hardly ever does anyone other than you enjoy them. Before the Sutherland family acquired it, Tongue House was the home of the Lords Reay, the Chiefs of Clan Mackay.
The gardens at Tongue House.
Frances drops me off at my hotel. When I go to the bar to order a drink, the barkeep asks if I am Tyler and says something was left for me. A brown, card-sized envelope with my name on it.
After ordering my drink, I take a seat at a booth and open the envelope. It contains two postcards and on them is The Last House Dalcharn! They are from John and he had them made. They are copies of the original artwork. One is a color painting he had done by a local artist and the other is a line drawing by his sister.
One of the postcards John left me. The Last House Dalcharn.
A photo I took last night on the way out of Dalcharn looking back on the The Last House.
John has honored this home and it is amazing.
The photo above was very dark due to the time it was taken. I altered it with an ‘I’m feeling lucky’ photo editing feature. It is the only photo edited to date on my website.
Margaret (from the museum) and her husband, Winnfried, pick me up from the hotel. We head from there to the site of the Battle of Druim na coub. After parking, we head on a hike and eventually reach the flat-topped hill. The area is named Carn Fada, which means ‘long rock’ and receives its name from the long rock on one side of the flat-topped area. The battle was fought in 1433 between the Sutherland’s and Mackay’s. The Mackay’s knew that the Sutherland’s were going to attack. The chief of Clan Mackay chose a location “where a smaller force would be able to resist a larger.” The Mackay’s came out victorious, but with much loss, including their chief. One chronicle states that the battle was the bloodiest battle ever fought on Scottish soil.
Carn Fada is the site of the Battle of Druim na coub of 1433. The mountain in the background is Ben Loyal.
We went back to the home of Margaret and Winnfried after picking up Mary. Mary had written up some notes on my family history for me to have. We drank a scotch malt whiskey started by the Manson's in 1797. Cheers to the battle of 1433 and the Clan of Mackay.
Margaret drives me to Viewforth and on the way shows me some other homes and views.
The Kyle of Tongue with Ben Loyal in the distance.
No one is in at Viewforth, but Michael had told me where his shop was located. I walk through the field behind his house, up to the road above, and then up the road for not too far, and find him in his shop. He gives me a tour and talks mechanics, showing me old tools and new. He has a really old tractor he was given that he has been ordering parts for on Ebay so he can rebuild the engine. Outside he tells me about some more of the old equipment he has collected.
I learn that besides the units of a ton and a tonne, there is also an imperial ton that was commonly used when he was young. A ton is 2,000 pounds. A tonne is 2,200 pounds (1,000 kilograms). An imperial ton is 20 ‘hundredweights.’ A hundredweight is equal to 8 stones, a stone being 14 pounds, for 112 pounds as a hundredweight. So an imperial ton results to being 2,240 pounds. Now you are ready for a future trivia night.
I have dinner at Viewforth. After discussing my upcoming cycling routes, Michael drives me to the hotel.
Photo Gallery – Clan of Mackay Family History in Tongue
Tuesday, May 19, 2015
After packing all my belongings into the pannier bags, I check out and leave at 8:45am. Unfortunately I did not have more time here. When I finalized my schedule, I hadn’t yet connected with cousins. There is also so much to do here in the outdoors, so many mountains to hike up and many beaches to hike down to. It is so beautiful here! I will be back. I will be back for sure. All the time I have spent on research was worth the experience of the past two days. I will be forever grateful for everyone who became a partner throughout my research and the kindness of all those I met in Tongue. Incredible.
Minutes after I have left the hotel, it begins to rain. So I stop and put on the raingear. After several miles at a good pace with no wind, I am reminded that the bike chain very much needs to be cleaned and that I was going to do it while in Tongue, but there was so much to fit in that I neglected it. The rain has stopped now, or at least I have cycled beyond it. I spend 10 minutes cleaning the chain. It is so much better, but it could still be cleaned more. After lubricating the chain, I set off, reach high gear and unload some energy.
At 10:39am, I arrive into Altnaharra, having ridden 17.4 miles (28.0 km) south at a pace of 10.04 mph (16.16 km/h).
Cycling route between Tongue and Altnaharra.
From Altnaharra I continue south. At 11:44am I arrive into Crask, having ridden 7.8 miles (12.6 km) at a pace of 8.67 mph (13.95 km/h)
Cycling route between Altnaharra to Crask.
I leave Crask heading south and arrive into Lairg at 12:36pm, having ridden 12.6 miles (20.3 km) at a pace of 17.18 mph (27.65 km/h).
“No way,” is what you just said. And “NO WAY!,” is what I typed in my notes on my phone after recording the time I stopped, as I could not make sense of that speed and could not figure it out. I have reviewed the entire day and distances and it is correct! I reviewed the elevation for this segment and it is generally downhill, being the only answer for that speed.
Cycling route between Crask to Lairg.
In Lairg, I have lunch at Pier Café, which was recommended by Michael. I have a Brie, bacon, and cranberry toasty (melted sandwich). So good!
I care a lot more about being warm and dry than I do about appearance. I very intentionally sat by the fire. And took off my shoes and socks to dry and warm them up!
It had stopped raining at some point before I stopped for lunch, but it is raining again and hard. I head off at 2:00pm heading south, after a really nice lunch break. After cycling 10.9 miles (17.5 km) at a pace of 13.08 mph (21.05 km/h), I arrive into Bonar Bridge. It is still pouring rain.
From Bonar Bridge, I continue south, taking a recommended detour to keep me off a busy highway. This detour also takes me over a massive hill, but also saves me a lot of miles and is safer. At 5:14pm, I arrive at my hotel in Evanton, having cycled 21.0 miles (33.8 km) at a pace of 9.26 mph (14.91 km/h), including the massive hill.
Cycling route between Bonar Bridge to Evanton. I came up that hill. I wish I could have gone down it.
It rained the entire afternoon. I cannot believe how well I cycled today. In no way did I expect it! That shows how much the wind has been against me up until now.
Photo Gallery – Tongue to Evanton: Cycling Day 9
At the hotel, I am able to do a load of laundry and lay my shell layers out to dry. I plug my cycling lights in to charge, they charge through USB. And I refill my water bottles, having everything already ready for tomorrow.
The hotel I am at no longer has a restaurant, so I walk down the street to the next hotel and have fish n chips. I already knew I would do this, and booking at the other hotel basically made dinner free.
Daily cycling stats:
Distance: 69.7 miles (112.2 km)
Moving average: 10.78 mph (17.35 km/h)
Accumulative cycling stats:
Distance: 285.1 miles (454.2 km)
Moving average: 8.68 mph (13.96 km/h)
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Map of cycling in the highlands:
“I don't want to wait anymore, I'm tired of looking for answers. Take me some place where there's music and there's laughter. I don't know if I'm scared of dying but I'm scared of living too fast, too slow. Regret, remorse, hold on, oh no I've got to go.
There’s no starting over, no new beginnings, time races on, and you've just gotta keep on keeping on. Gotta keep on going, looking straight out on the road, can't worry 'bout what's behind you or what's coming for you further up the road. I try not to hold on to what is gone, I try to do right what is wrong. I try to keep on keeping on. Yeah I just keep on keeping on.
I hear a voice call, calling out for me. These shackles I've made in an attempt to be free. Be it for reason, be it for love, I won't take the easy road.”
From the song My Silver Lining by First Aid Kit.