"This bike ain’t gonna ride itself" we told ourselves, as the front wheels bathed in the cool North Sea for the photo posing. We then discovered our bike shoes were made of King Canute uppers as the pause for an extra photograph brought the tide in a tad further than intended.
A push back up the sand to the breezy Aberdeen promenade and we were off. 260 miles to go. On the scale of epic adventures, Shackleton, Fiennes, Beaumont or Cracknell would view this as an amusing warm up.
For us office dwellers it was a tantalising dream emerging from the dark winter nights and finally about to materialise. . . . .
Find out how they got on by clicking the PDF below.