Fairlie windy, then the borders for my first enduro.

Four of us headed up our usual trails on Thursday night, finding the fairlie trails in tip top dry condition again, amazing how much difference a wee dry spell makes. The northerly wind was making a nuisance of itself when up top of the moor, which at least keeps the midges down. The midges on fairlie moor were actually a genetic mutation, born out of desperation during the First World War. They were made into a mutant hybrid, with sharks, at the mod pier down in the village, so a wee wind is sweet.

Anyway, that was the last ride before the Tweedlove enduro race at Glentress forest, near Peebles in the borders.Enduros are the emperors new clothes, the next big thing, basically it's a race that you can ride with your mates, due to the fact that the race features a series of timed sections, ranging from a few minutes to around fifteen minutes, and as everyone is set off at 30 second intervals, there's always an opportunity to overtake yer mate,

So here's a wee synopsis.

Stage 1 - really easy, just two sections of the blue at Glentress, berm baby berm and electric blue.

Stage 2 - pretty long and rocky, which after following the big bugger climb up to it, keeps you on yer toes!. I overtook Gavla on this section, so happy days.

Stage 3 - a big old techy descent back to the Peebles hydro area. I rode this pretty poorly, as Robin had a bit of a fall right at the start, and looked like he wasn't moving, I stacked straight after too, so my riding mojo was gone. I minced down this a bit. (Mincing is when you ride like a big Jessie-imagine Julian Clary on a bike, that was me.)

Stage 4 - Just nuts, steeper, muddier and rootier than anything I've ever ridden before. Mincetastic.

Stage 5 - see stage 4!

So, anyway, I'll be back next year, as I have unfinished business!. I hardly took any pictures as it was a race, there wasn't much time for pussyfooting around, but here's a couple from the start and the end.

 

 

 

 

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Good to be back...

First evening ride up the moor for a while, ground conditions are pretty wet, but good fun. It's nice to get riding at night without having to carry lights for a change, so I'm taking full advantage from now on and ditching the camelbak altogether. Some spares in a seat pack, and if I get thirsty, they've got schiehallion on draft in the village inn!.

There's a certain freedom to riding packless, and it's all about freedom.

 

 

 

 

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A wee epic in the 'Shire 'highlands'

When you think of Ayrshire, the highland landscape is not really featured in your train of thought, but, the Isle of Arran is both part of the 'Shire and also the highlands.

An early morning 5am alarm call was met with disdain, but with a wee ride on Arran to look forward to, before I knew it, I was out of bed and in the shower, making tracks for the 6.07 train. Due to scotrails apparent inability to organise a train for the first ferry in the morning, we had to brave the usual 4 mile ride to the port of ardrossan from Kilwinning, and an unexpected headwind didn't help. Turns out this headwind would feature heavily for the next 8 or so hours...

After a short hourlong journey, we were headed on a wee road section to Sannox, where we'd turn off road and start biking proper. The coastal path along from Sannox is a lovely, sometimes peaty piece of trail that ends up at the very quaint looking Laggan cottage, before turning steeply uphill and over the top toward Lochranza. All this in an absolute wall of rain.

The aforementioned headwind was super strong on the climb from Laggan cottage, and so we were forced to walk up sections of the path that we would usually ride. This ride is pretty much the same as Robin and I did a few weeks back, but in reverse, with another bit tacked on. We'd both agreed the last time that the section over to Lochranza would be better in reverse, giving a big, rocky, ballsy descent back to the village.

How true. The descent was ace, big baby headed, nay, Rooney headed boulders but enough gradient to fly over them, even if the trail had turned into a river for the day. Must have been some rain last night. Then we had the fortunate situation where the headwind from before carried us up the boguillie, a steep road climb back over from Lochranza to Sannox. Then it got surreal.

But in a nice way!. We popped into the tearoom at corrie golf club (in Sannox though) and were met with an 80th birthday party. The lady who the party had been thrown for promptly came over to our table with a bottle each of red, white and even champagne. At 11am.

This was followed with a lovely wedge of victoria sponge birthday cake (after we'd had coffee and the obligatory soup) how bloody good is that?!. What a smashing lady, I hope she reaches telegram age.

Putting wet clothes back on is horrible, and this time was no different, before we set off up glen Sannox to meet our high point of the day, the saddle. And what a high point. The ride up the glen is fine, only disrupted by deep water culverts and mental gusts of wind, until we got to the head of the glen, where it was sheltered, but steep as hell.

This resulted in over an hour of bike carrying up steep steps and massive slabs of rock, until we got to a section that would have been a scramble without a bike, never mind with one. We had to form a chain (not one of Drew Thomsons' chains I hasten to add) to pass the bikes up to the top, so steep it was. Finally at the top, the clouds lifted and we were met with an awesome sight.

The boys with caisteall abhaill behind.

The fabled witches step

 

Our intrepid heroes.

 

Where we'd been - glen Sannox

 

Where we're going - glen rosa.

 

Robinho.

The descent was well worth the climb, a complete tech-fest, but not too steep, and some absolutely lovely singletrack. Happy days. The only downside was that it was a bit stop start in places, due to the many big treble drainage ditches, but still good. There was also some lovely flowing flat singletrack right at the end, enough to forget about Les's punctures, but not Gavin's guff talk.

A wee pint in eillan mhor, then onto the ferry for the train journey home, we were wet, tired but happy. A monster bowl of pasta was consumed at home, and another beer or two. I'm a lucky boy.

Some wee extra thoughts. I'm really, really looking forward to our week in the cottage in lamlash, hopefully get Maria up her first mountain, and get some more of the quaint tea rooms fitted in. I don't care what the weather will present us, Arran is such a great island, and that's what waterproofs are for.

Getting up to the saddle today made me want to get some proper Arran ridge walking in this year, I'll rope Garry into that one.

Gorgeous island. The highlands rock.

Robin in glen rosa with a moody cir mhor looming behind.

 

Strange 'sea rainbow'

 

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Into the light.....

Finally, after a long winter, on Tuesday night we managed to get our first night ride in on the moor without the need for lights, but only just. No pictures, as I try not to take a pack with me when riding evenings without the lights. I tend to find riding for a couple of hours, unless it's really warm, I'm fine without water, and there is no cumbersome battery to carry either, so a spare tube, multi tool and C02 cartridges fit in a stash pocket. It's much nicer riding pack free, but it means no room for a camera.

So we went up and rode the full Kaim descent, and had a couple of full runs down kilruskin, which is still riding exceptionally dry and fast, a bit too fast for young Lloyd, who had a bit of a front wheel washout and what looked like a spectacular stack, given how far he ended up away from his tangled bike, and as he let me know later, a cracked helmet. That's what happens when you mix youthful exuberance and tyres being too hard!.

Nearly 2 hours riding, then back home, quick shower, and nightshift. Livin' the dream ;-))).

No riding this weekend, as Maz, myself and toots are off to Auld Reekie for a wee break, so I'll take advantage of time off the bike and get my wheels for the impending new arrival rebuilt at sprockets. Every cloud has a silver lining!.

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A taste of summer?

Not much words today the pictures say enough. A mint ride up on the moor with Robin and Klaus, and a pint of my favourite and a bacon roll at the village inn to finish. Sweet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Holy jumping beards, Robin!

The one and only Ed Oxley

On Wednesday evening, robin and myself headed down to Long Preston, a wee conservation village on the Yorkshire/Lancashire border. After getting our keys from the basic but nice bed and breakfast, which also doubles as a post office and cafe, we headed to the local pub for tea. There are 2 pubs in the village, the first one had a union flag and sky sports poster outside, so we should have known that it would be a bit of a dive!. The other pub along the road, the maypole, was a typical wee village pub with very nice food to boot, the highlight being real chips!.

Next morning, after a hearty full English, we packed up the car and were on our way to Gisburn forest and a date with the bearded legend himself, Ed Oxley. Ed is a sponsored rider for on one bikes, but his bread and butter is running skills coaching courses, and we were booked on his 'jumping for dads' course.

Gisburn forest is a purpose built trail centre, not my usual riding, but fun all the same, and the perfect place to practice and session the various drops, rollers and jumps.the morning, which was miserably wet, focused on pumping the trail, manuals, rear wheel lifts and bunny hops, the kind of thing that most bikers think they can do, but in reality can't do properly, and these are the basis for many other skills.

Ed is too fast for the camera!

After a bite of lunch at a cafe in slaidburn, we headed back in Ed's van to Gisburn, this time focussing on doubles (jumps) and drop offs. Ed has a cool teaching manner, really getting his message across without being condescending or overly complicated, and we were soon getting smoother and slicker. After the drops session, we returned to the jumps at the bottom of the Hope 'A line' trail, and remarkably, most were hitting the jumps with confidence and speed. Result.

This has given me loads to think about and the means to practice and actually know when something feels wrong. By the time we were done for the day, the sun was out for the drive home, and nice views of the hills surrounding the best service station in the country at Tebay for tea.

Robin hitting a double

Well worth the trip, I used t think I wasn't bad at drops and jumps, turns out I was guff, but am now a wee bit better!.

 

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A wee west highland adventure....

Friday 12th of April wasn't supposed to be wet, but a constant 'scotch mist' accompanied my 4 riding companions and myself on the first day of our 3 day self supported ride on the WHW. Robin and Des, my usual riding buddies, were accompanied by Gavin and his mate Dugald, who I had only ridden with once previously, leaving the milngavie starting point around half past ten that morning.

Des staring, Robin reaches for the laxative..

The first 12 or so miles to Drymen were dispatched quick sharp, and after a diversion around conic hill, we arrived in Balmaha in perfect time to grab a break from the drizzle in the oak tree inn, haggis and mozzarella panini was just what I was after. Between Balmaha and Rowardennan, there is some cracking undulating singletrack, with only the odd section proving too much for our fully laden mountain bikes. After rowardennan, the trail becomes a lot more technical, with lots of step ups and downs, and they get higher and more frequent as the trail goes on.

An unusual break from the drizzle

There is a section of the way which can make or break a ride, stretching from the inversnaid hotel to just before done bothy at the north end of the loch, and we were aware it was approaching. My intention at leading up to this was to do this section, despite it being a 3 hour plus push and carry, even with an extra 20 kilos on the bike, I was up for it. But, by the time we accelerated past a huge group of MTBers a few miles from inversnaid, I was beginning to wonder.

The last ferry across the loch is 4.30pm, and I made my mind up that I was going to be on it, and I knew I wouldn't get any argument from the boys. We knew in the back of our minds that to carry on along the loch would mean not getting to the campsite at inverarnan around 9pm, and no one wanted to pitch tents, or bivvy tarps, in the dark. The group we had passed had said that they were going for the ferry, but when I pulled up to the jetty, it was obvious that there was no room for ours and their group. Snooze you lose....

The boat of shame....

The down side of the ferry is that it heads away in the opposite direction that those tackling the way wish to go, taking us to the marina at tarbet. This meant a 10 mile road ride up the busy, tight and twist A82. Myself, Des and Robin formed a bit of a road train, team sky style, and rolled into the Drovers inn just after 6pm. Needless to say, a beer was most enjoyable. Total distance - 44 miles.

After a reasonably good sleep in the bivvy bag, I awoke to a wee companion - a sizeable frog next to my pillow!

Ribbit!

Soul fully loaded at Beinglas campsite.

Next morning, after some gruel-like instant porridge, we set off, heading for the bright lights of Tyndrum. The trail starts off quite well, climbing up toward the falls of falloch, but soon turns into another pushing and clambering up and under the main road and railway line. After spinning up the climb of kirk craig, there was a sweet, sweeping descent down through ewich forest, which was even better due to the whooping and cheering of a lady walker who appreciated our efforts!. The spin along the river fillan was pleasant enough, but the by this point we were all looking forward to some deep fried delights at the real food cafe. Battered Stornaway black pudding was devoured, but I was aware that I would be tasting its gaseous remains for the rest of the cycle!.

Climbing north out of Tyndrum, Beinn dorainn behind.

Steeper than it looks!

Lots of bike lifting again...

A belly full of Hebridean blood sausage is not an ideal way to star the long grind out of the town of Tyndrum, but we reached the summit of the section between there and Bridge of Orchy quickly enough, and there was another really good descent, this time a little rockier, down and into the valley, before another slight climb, and then dropping down below the west highland line to the hotel. There seemed to be a lot of building going on behind the hotel, and the waiter proudly informed us that it was some new 'luxury' barn style accommodation, priced at £120 - £180 for a double room. Best of luck with that!....

What followed was a mix a climb up mam carraigh behind the hotel, and then a smashing rocky drop down to inveroran.

Then a right slog up and over the black mount, before descending down toward the kingshouse hotel at the head of Glencoe. All weather reports indicated that we were in for gales and rain that would last the whole night, so we decided to see if there was any of the new hobbit holes available at the Glencoe ski centre. Hurrah! There were 2, ideal. We had been looking forward to the fine ales and log fire of the kingshouse, but it was over 2 miles away, and none of us fancied cycling backup that steep hill with a belly full, so when we heard that the ski centre had a bar that was open til after 10, we decided to take cover in there instead. Just over 30 miles all in.

The view from the ski centre bar is a fantastic vista of an iconic Scottish mountain, buachaille etive mor - the great herdsman of the glen, behind a wood burner and framed by a large window wall. Pity this was spoiled by the only beer being miller or fosters gold. Cooking lager. The bar is ran by a rather eccentric Eastern European couple, the girl being a very friendly girl-with-a-dragon-tattoo-alike, her partner just plain mental!. 'Full suspension bikes are for girls' and laughing creepily whilst telling us we were going to get drenched the following day being some of his more memorable tomes. A real life Borat in a bunnet.

Glencoe hobbit holes

That night, we were very glad we had paid the twenty quid each, as it was torrential most of the night, and I for one wouldn't have fancied packing up all that wet gear in the morning. After another bag of slurry, sorry, porridge, we headed down the wee rocky path to the hotel in the rain. I went a bit too quick, overtaking Gavin, the fastest man on two wheels, and paid the price with a puncture. To be fair, this was our first issue of the three days, not bad really.

Torn side wall was repaired with a compede blister plaster, and we were off again along the side of Glencoe, which after the nights rain had turned into a river. I could feel my brake pads wearing down rapidly, with all the water and granite grit, and by the time we were at the top of the devils staircase, I was aware I had no front brake, and the back was close to gone as well, but it was chucking it down and I had no desire to start fitting new pads up there, as it was wild. The descent down toward kinlochleven was something I had been looking forward to for over a fortnight, but with perhaps 30% braking power and an already torn tyre, I took the foot off the gas a bit, which is a shame, as it is a fantastic big, wide rocky monster of a trail. Just means we'll need to go back soon, with the bikes a bit lighter. I changed the pads at kinlochleven, and then had a warming bowl of soup at the ice factor, and despite us leaving the wee lounge like a swimming pool, the wee waiter fella kept smiling.

The climb out of kinlochleven is a straight push up, so we decided to take the longer but more cycleable road up to mamore lodge, where we met a party of soldiers just heading out on a 6 day exercise, but they looked like they didn't have much more kit than us!. A little further on, a small group of the camouflaged squaddies were hiding in behind a sub station, and Dugald inexplicably decided it would be a good idea to ask them to take our picture. The look of disdain on there faces mixed with the silence gave him his answer!.

The view from here over to the Pap of Glencoe is truly stunning, my camera skills can't capture majesty at all.

Rocky?

Faffing, and it's not Robin!

 

The quad track westward and then northward from here is a grand, wide, rocky trail, which gives enough short, sharp climbs to keep the legs honest, and rewards you with some long, fast mile munching, especially when the wind swirled from our faces to assist us along the glen toward Ben Nevis. I've never experienced such a swirling wind, going from 50mph gusts right into our faces, to the complete opposite, bowling us along. Dugald then had the only other puncture of the weekend, before we rolled into Fort William, and the end of our ride. Pizzas and other calorific goodness devoured, we headed to the station for a near 4 hour train journey home, on what must rank as the finest view from any train in the UK. The last day was just over 28 miles, and felt every bit of it.

 

The end....

So, some observations...

With all that added weight, I was astounded how stable the bike was, absolutely ploughs through rocky descents, and the extra weight gives so much more traction on even gravelly climbs.

Everyone always says you carry too much gear on your first multi day trip, which is so true!. I shall take much less in the way of clothing next time.

My plan to cook dehydrated food, like cous cous, in the pour and store bags worked an absolute treat, even the porridge worked well, but instant porridge pales in comparison to the real stuff.

Do not, ever, rely on Scottish weather, even after a 3 week dry spell.

People who drink tennents lager at 8am in a campsite are as annoying as they are thick. And their dogs are worse.

Assos chamois creme, also known as minty arse lard, is worth it's weight in gold.

There was so many more things that came into my head on the trip, as you tend to get quite a lot of solo ride time on these rides, but I've forgotten them, and they probably only made sense to me anyway!. Would I do it again? Probably not, but not because it wasn't good, as there is some awesome riding in the 95 miles, truly there is. No, the reason being I like heading to different places, that's all.

Happy riding.

 

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