After Robin and I getting a wee bit lost in the Carrick hills last time, I decided to head up and stick to the path this time. Robin had called off, as his cat was unwell, and Des is in the middle of his winter hibernation, so I was on my tod again.
The 10 miles out to Fisherton was into a right bugger of a headwind, so it was a relief to climb up to the forest with a sidewind for a change. The trails were a wee bit muddier than a fortnight ago, and I was on and off the bike quite a bit at some of the bogs, slow going. I finally came to the fork that Robin and I had turned the wrong way at, and although the trail looked nice then, the cattle have made a right mess of it now. Bloody farmers. For the next mile and a half it was pretty grim, and I eventually got fed up of following the 'path' and blasted down through some fields when the road was in sight.
What looked like a firm, fast grassy field, turned out to be a muddy quagmire, but not until I was battering down at warp speed, how I stayed on the bike I'll never know. By the time I got to the bottom, I was head to toe in mud, so that was my plan for a soup and coffee stop hit on the head. Onward and upward, I climbed back up toward the mast, turned off to head over the open moorland leading to nether auchindrain, but this was pretty poor too, and dark skies were gathering. I bailed across more fields, and eventually down through balig farm, and back through Ayr to home.
I think I'll give the Carricks a miss from now on.