Day 9 - Kirkcudbright - Gatehouse Of Fleet - Creetown

A good long day riding today and again the scenery has upped itself on the previous day. Also again we weren't up and away as early as planned and that could be because of the weather or because I'm lazy. I paid my ten pounds this morning and that could be because I'm honest or because I was too scared to go careening through the gate and over the cattle grid/speed bump combination that lay directly next to the wardens reception. I'll let you paint your own picture.
Leaving Kilcudbright (it's pronounced Kill-cud-bree by the way) was quite sad. I could easily have lost two or three days there even though I hadn't clicked with the locals in the same way as I had in Dalbeattie. I will definitely return to Kirkcudbright one day. The bridge over the River Dee took us out of town and into The Firth of Solway (I think). We had a really pretty and tranquil ride up that Solway coast. Even the name Solway connotes a kind of loneliness and this quiet route is a good time to get your life in check, no distractions. I resisted the urge to picnic quite yet though there were some really nice spots. The road was a slow but constant incline and as we got higher the sun broke out but so did the wind. Pulling this trailer uphill and into a headwind is a grinding 3mph toil. Thankfully the views today were rewarding and I used any photo opportunities to take a breather. Hudson was fussing so we walked sometimes. We would come around a bend or over a crest and I would find myself yelling over my shoulder,
"Oh Hudson, will you look at that!"
We passed through Gatehouse of Fleet another true character town with a huge stone gateway as an entrance, a river and a clocktower. We sat down and had dinner. If there had've been a campsite I would have been tempted to stay but it's good we got further today. More slow climbs and the most sublime views.
At the right times today I was so happy and felt sorry for everyone that wasn't seeing what I was seeing. I felt sorry for the people driving by in their grey European estate cars, they were totally missing the point. I felt sorry for my friends in Canada, the girl I could never convince to follow me. I felt sorry for my family here and certain people I know, urbanites, engines of resentment. I wished that I could have brought them all with me and that they could all get along but most of all I was beginning to feel something strange. Now, so far from home, I think I was beginning to feel a little bit proud of myself. I had worked hard, pedalled hard to get here. I had comitted to this trip months ago and I was being rewarded for once by payoffs like today. Maybe that is what this trip is all about. I've been working hard for so many years for so little reward. I was ready to give up. This trip is pressing the reset button on my whole outlook. I knew there was a reason I was here.
As the sun began to fade we were panicking a little, we hadn't seen a house in two hours and we couldn't pull off the road because of two deep drainage gullies that ran for miles one on each side of the road. I pedalled hard and had a late burst of energy that carried us a few miles until we came across a plausible pitch in a small wood at the roadside. I let Hudson sniff around and waited for his look of approval before pitching by a stream. Sleeping listening to the water will be relaxing. I won't pretend wild camping doesnt make me nervous. I'll be sleeping with a big dog and a knife at my side tonight. Paranoid? Me?