Friday 13 January 2012
24 Hours of Madness
I'm not the racing type. I don't really have that competitive streak or the dedication required to get really fast or good at anything. However, once in a while an event comes along that seems to feature just the right amount of madness to look "interesting". So it is with the Strathpuffer. As if a 24-hour mountain bike race in Scotland wasn't mad enough, it's held in January in order to ensure maximum darkness. Now, I've thought about doing the Puffer a few times over the years and circumstances have conspired against me. This year, I was asked to be pit-bitch for a friend and I thought this would be the ideal opportunity to see the whole thing up close and to finally help make up mind whether or not I was going to add this to my Palmares.
We were all prepped up on Friday and rolled in to Contin in the afternoon, getting my van and a caravan organised. Temperatures were completely unseasonal and the snow and ice which had featured previously was nowhere to be seen. A bit of a disturbed nights sleep made for a less than promising start, but by 10am we were all ready to roll.
Once the riders had done their Le Mans style sprint and headed off up the fireroad climb for the first time, we got ourselves organised in the start/finish marquee, claiming enough table space that we could get all the food, drink and spares together in the (relative) warm and dry.
After a fast start, the race settled down a bit and I found I had 10-15 minutes of intense activity - getting food and drink organised, checking over the bike when it came in - followed by about an hour of boredom. This pattern was briefly interrupted when we had a problem with brake pads on one of the bikes and again when a "stomach upset" meant that some riding time was lost.
Further illness meant we ended up with an unplanned break early in the morning but we were up again and ready to roll for a couple of hours as the sun rose and the race eventually ended at 10am.
Overall, it wasn't the mechanical carnage I'd expected. The weather obviously played a part with thin mud running off rather than sticking to the moving parts. The competitors seemed to enjoy it, whether they were in it for a place or only for the craic.
For me, the most important moment was just after midnight, walking down to the van, away from the piped music, the generators and the lights. The full moon was showing through a large break in the clouds. The occasional star was visible as the clouds swept noiselessly across. In the far distance, I could just make out small patches of snow on the hills above Strathconon. It was calm, mild and perfect. Perfect for sitting outside a bothy or tent with a wee dram that is!
Sunday 1 January 2012
Goals
One disadvantage of having lots of free time is that you have a lot of free time. That means you always have the option of delaying, putting off, prevaricating. So, despite vague plans for rides, it takes little excuse to just put it off to another day. Weather is, of course, top of the list. If it looks a bit damp, or too windy it's all too easy to just put the kettle on, kick the feet up and have a look at what's happening on the world via the wonders of the internet.
As a way of combating this, I entered a series of monthly "challenges" with some friends using the Endomondo sports tracking website. We started off by simply recording total calories burnt, figuring that anything involving distance immediately disadvantaged the walkers, runners and swimmers. As 2011 progressed, I started on my own challenge - to burn an average of 1,000 calories per day in some form of exercise. Due to a couple of longer trips, including my Lands End - John o'Groats ride, I easily got ahead of the target and I actually reached 365,000 calories at the end of October. In order to keep the incentive alive, I then decided to aim for a total of 10,000 kilometres for the year and with just a couple of days to go, I surpassed that target, ending up with 10,042km.
It really has worked for me. Days where it would be easy to sit in and look at the weather, I've taken to getting out there anyway. Trips where I thought I was a bit tired and might have taken a shortcut home, I've ground it out to get that extra burn/distance in.
However, for 2012, I've decided to drop all that number-crunching stuff. My goal this year is to get out into the hills more, on bike and on foot, wild camping where I can. I also aim to get more use out of the kayak and will likely sign up for some sort of skills course for my own and my wifes piece of mind.
We'll see how this works out. I've promised myself I'd do this for the last 2/3 years but life (or, more accurately, death) kept getting in the way.
Well, that's me sorted - how about you? Whatever it is you aim for, let's make 2012 a real year to remember!
Thursday 15 December 2011
Walking again
In my wee intro for this blog, I mention the fact that I'm a bit of a frustrated hillwalker. The frustration is due to heel pains I get when out for any distance and which developed, quite suddenly, during a West Highland Way expedition. Despite lots of medical probing, no one has been able to diagnose the problem and/or some up with a decent cure or prevention. As a result, I've been restricted to the odd day walking and certainly no multi-day stuff.
However, my wife has signed up to do an Everest Base Camp walk next spring and I'm now helping her get fit and prepared, so we find ourselves out walking once or twice a week, covering 10-14 miles. I must say I've found the whole thing really rather enjoyable. A quick dab of Voltarol gel on my heels before we set off seems to delay the onset of the pain enough to get through the day and we're discovering little parts of the country we'd always overlooked in the goal to bag the Munros.
The Pentlands are on our doorstep, we've had a couple of lovely walks in the Moorfoots, a very "different" type of walk along the coast in East Lothian and today we were in the Lammermuirs. The latter were particularly impressive, with great tracks cutting over the hills and little off-shoots disappearing to goodness-knows-where. In fact, I've a funny idea I'm gong to be returning very soon - but on two wheels!
However, my wife has signed up to do an Everest Base Camp walk next spring and I'm now helping her get fit and prepared, so we find ourselves out walking once or twice a week, covering 10-14 miles. I must say I've found the whole thing really rather enjoyable. A quick dab of Voltarol gel on my heels before we set off seems to delay the onset of the pain enough to get through the day and we're discovering little parts of the country we'd always overlooked in the goal to bag the Munros.
The Pentlands are on our doorstep, we've had a couple of lovely walks in the Moorfoots, a very "different" type of walk along the coast in East Lothian and today we were in the Lammermuirs. The latter were particularly impressive, with great tracks cutting over the hills and little off-shoots disappearing to goodness-knows-where. In fact, I've a funny idea I'm gong to be returning very soon - but on two wheels!
Wednesday 16 November 2011
Dark
It's been a while since I did a wee update. The weather and being busy with another project (more to come....) plus doing a lot more walking with my wife had cut into riding time. However, there's been a chance for a spot of something just a wee bit different.......
Early last year, some internet friends were doing Land End-John o'Groats and a wee group of us from Edinburgh decided to meet them en route, to keep them company and give them some encouragement. We set off in the morning to accompany them to Pitlochry and then to return to Edinburgh. It was always going to be a long day in the saddle, so we'd taken some good lights with us. On the way back South, we reached Perth in the twilight and stopped off for some food. The next 80km or so would all be in the dark and this was quite a new experience. Heading through Perth was just like commuting. The street lights were the usual mix of orange and white, the car headlights hardly making an impact. As soon as we left Perth, it all changed. This was something quite, quite different and the sensation of whizzing through the quiet countryside was really enjoyable, despite the cold. It occurred to me that, especially as a small group, we were probably more visible than we'd be during the day. The only down-side was that rough road surfaces and pot-holes were a lot less visible and harder to avoid.
Scroll forward to 2011 and here we were making plans for a follow-up. Finally, the evenings were actually dark enough to make it worthwhile and we were going to do a Lockerbie-Edinburgh ride. Were going to do.... It turned out that the rail company wouldn't take a booking for three bikes - two being the maximum - although we might get a third on if the Train Manager thought it wasn't too busy. The option was simply to turn up at Waverley and see if we could get all three on without booking. Just in passing, the call centre person I was talking to then mentioned that even the two spaces weren't guaranteed. We had a brief discussion on the meaning of the word "booked", but it was to no avail and I had to come up with an alternative plan.
Luckily, a call to Virgin Crosscountry got us three bookings on a train to Carlisle. This would be slightly further to ride back but well within our range. I was even happier when another friend was able to book and join us, meaning we were filling the four bike spaces on the train. The only thing to do now was work out what to wear and get the lights charged!
The train trip was pretty uneventful - once we'd got round the fact that our bike bookings weren't visible at the ticket counter and we stocked up on some food and drink on the way. Despite a wee detour getting out of Carlisle, we were soon on the A7 and once past the M6 junction the roads got to be fairly quiet. The promised tailwind seemed to have switched round a bit, but we made good progress to Longtown. From here to Traquair I'd be travelling a road I'd last done as part of my LeJog earlier this year and little landmarks along the way would cause flashbacks. The weather was certainly kinder today and, if anything, I was feeling a little over-dressed with a Windstopper jacket on.
We carried on to Canonbie and then Langholm, with only a couple of less-considerate drivers to deal with before the wet roads enforced a wee stop for overshoes. The B road we now followed to Eskdalemuir is absolutely superb. Much of it has been resurfaced after damage caused by too many timber lorries and there's so little traffic, it should stay in that condition for a long time to come. Reaching the Samye Ling monastery meant it was time for lunch.
Leaving after soup, coffee and cake, it was already a bit chillier and it was clear we'd soon be needing the lights. The section of road which follows has a lovely, wild feel to it and the good tarmac continues for some length. Soon though, we were approaching Tushielaw and just as the road deteriorated, so did the light. The turn off for Yarrow sees a long steep hill ahead of us but we clear it in the gathering gloom and delight in the even longer descent towards the (closed) Gordon Arms. At this point, the extra lumens I'm carrying make themselves felt as I'm able to descend faster than the others, my light picking out the road surface imperfections further ahead.
From here to Innerleithen is another climb and descent and we've become aware that the collection of lights and reflectives were we're packing is confusing the few car drivers we come across. By the time we hit Innerleithen, it's fully dark and we pop into the supermarket for some water. The most surprising here is that, suddenly, we all feel cold. All that exertion has been masking the chill and we set off asap to get back up to temperature again.
The ride from here back to Edinburgh is very familiar to all of us and passes by in a fairly reasonable time, so we're soon hitting the street-lights again through Lasswade and in to Liberton. After saying our various farewells, it just leaves that drag up the Lanark Road for me to get home.
Overall - a lovely trip on some great roads and just given that added little frisson of excitement and intrigue with the dark. To be repeated!
Early last year, some internet friends were doing Land End-John o'Groats and a wee group of us from Edinburgh decided to meet them en route, to keep them company and give them some encouragement. We set off in the morning to accompany them to Pitlochry and then to return to Edinburgh. It was always going to be a long day in the saddle, so we'd taken some good lights with us. On the way back South, we reached Perth in the twilight and stopped off for some food. The next 80km or so would all be in the dark and this was quite a new experience. Heading through Perth was just like commuting. The street lights were the usual mix of orange and white, the car headlights hardly making an impact. As soon as we left Perth, it all changed. This was something quite, quite different and the sensation of whizzing through the quiet countryside was really enjoyable, despite the cold. It occurred to me that, especially as a small group, we were probably more visible than we'd be during the day. The only down-side was that rough road surfaces and pot-holes were a lot less visible and harder to avoid.
Scroll forward to 2011 and here we were making plans for a follow-up. Finally, the evenings were actually dark enough to make it worthwhile and we were going to do a Lockerbie-Edinburgh ride. Were going to do.... It turned out that the rail company wouldn't take a booking for three bikes - two being the maximum - although we might get a third on if the Train Manager thought it wasn't too busy. The option was simply to turn up at Waverley and see if we could get all three on without booking. Just in passing, the call centre person I was talking to then mentioned that even the two spaces weren't guaranteed. We had a brief discussion on the meaning of the word "booked", but it was to no avail and I had to come up with an alternative plan.
Luckily, a call to Virgin Crosscountry got us three bookings on a train to Carlisle. This would be slightly further to ride back but well within our range. I was even happier when another friend was able to book and join us, meaning we were filling the four bike spaces on the train. The only thing to do now was work out what to wear and get the lights charged!
The train trip was pretty uneventful - once we'd got round the fact that our bike bookings weren't visible at the ticket counter and we stocked up on some food and drink on the way. Despite a wee detour getting out of Carlisle, we were soon on the A7 and once past the M6 junction the roads got to be fairly quiet. The promised tailwind seemed to have switched round a bit, but we made good progress to Longtown. From here to Traquair I'd be travelling a road I'd last done as part of my LeJog earlier this year and little landmarks along the way would cause flashbacks. The weather was certainly kinder today and, if anything, I was feeling a little over-dressed with a Windstopper jacket on.
We carried on to Canonbie and then Langholm, with only a couple of less-considerate drivers to deal with before the wet roads enforced a wee stop for overshoes. The B road we now followed to Eskdalemuir is absolutely superb. Much of it has been resurfaced after damage caused by too many timber lorries and there's so little traffic, it should stay in that condition for a long time to come. Reaching the Samye Ling monastery meant it was time for lunch.
Leaving after soup, coffee and cake, it was already a bit chillier and it was clear we'd soon be needing the lights. The section of road which follows has a lovely, wild feel to it and the good tarmac continues for some length. Soon though, we were approaching Tushielaw and just as the road deteriorated, so did the light. The turn off for Yarrow sees a long steep hill ahead of us but we clear it in the gathering gloom and delight in the even longer descent towards the (closed) Gordon Arms. At this point, the extra lumens I'm carrying make themselves felt as I'm able to descend faster than the others, my light picking out the road surface imperfections further ahead.
From here to Innerleithen is another climb and descent and we've become aware that the collection of lights and reflectives were we're packing is confusing the few car drivers we come across. By the time we hit Innerleithen, it's fully dark and we pop into the supermarket for some water. The most surprising here is that, suddenly, we all feel cold. All that exertion has been masking the chill and we set off asap to get back up to temperature again.
The ride from here back to Edinburgh is very familiar to all of us and passes by in a fairly reasonable time, so we're soon hitting the street-lights again through Lasswade and in to Liberton. After saying our various farewells, it just leaves that drag up the Lanark Road for me to get home.
Overall - a lovely trip on some great roads and just given that added little frisson of excitement and intrigue with the dark. To be repeated!
Tuesday 25 October 2011
Loch Loyne and the Atlantis Bridge
I've often told folk that I enjoy "reading" a map in the same way as lots enjoy reading books. It's during these sessions that interesting features come to light and these can inspire trips to spots one might otherwise overlook.
An example of this was while I was looking at OS Landranger 34. There. leaving from the Tomdoun Hotel is a clearly-marked track which simply heads north and disappears into Loch Loyne, only to emerge 800metres or so later and carry on over to the Cluanie Inn. My curiosity led me to do some digging and I discovered that this track is actually the remnants of the old motor road north - the actual "Road to the Isles" - which was closed when the dam at Loch Loyne was built and the water level raised. By the wonders of modern technology, I was also able to follow the track on satellite/aerial imagery and on some images the road was still clearly visible for its whole length beneath the water. My instincts told me that there must be some occasions when the water level would be low enough to see the road in its entirety. A couple of emails to Scottish Hydro confirmed that this was, indeed, the case and the best time would be late September/early October as the water levels are drawn down in preparation for the winter. However, no one would be able to confirm when the required level had been reached. The idea went on the back-burner for a while - 18 months or so - but eventually, I decided to head up and have a look. In order to make it more of an adventure, I also decided to do some bike-packing and spend a couple of days on some tracks I knew, and some I wanted to explore.
Day 1
The ride started at Invergarry. Looking around for somewhere to lave the car safely, I decided to ask in the Invergarry Hotel and was very pleased when they suggested I just leave it in the car park. From there, I was able to get onto the riverside path, signposted as a Right of Way to Tomdoun. After a few km and a short stint o the road, I reached the car park and the forest road. I had a really pleasant trip along here, in countryside I'd often seen from afar and was delighted when, after a while, I recognised the route of the A87 high up on my right and I could even make out the car park where everyone stops to see the famous view of Loch Garry - the one that makes it look like a map of Scotland.
The bike, which had being going great guns, then decided to let me down. Well, to be specific, the bottle cage did. Spurred on by the thought of saving a few extra grammes, I'd bought a Titanium bottle holder. Here was I on only the third outing and it had snapped in two, expelling the bottle which caught, momentarily, in my legs before hitting the track. Soon after, I reached the bridge over the loch - around the central belt if you like - and the road to Tomdoun where I stopped for a pint and a sandwich. This was a very friendly little place, the staff genuinely interested in where I was off to. When I told them, they were able to confirm that the road was in fact completely uncovered and in fact they kept a key to the gate so that car drivers (a 4x4 would be recommended) could drive up for a look. I was very comfy at the Tomdoun, so much so that I could have quite happily had another, but having some distance to go, I thought I'd best press on.
After passing the locked gate, I found the old road. Patchy tarmac in most places, with roots and grass breaking up the surface. A short climb and then the view opened out over Loch Loyne. Vaguely, ahead of me, I could make out the road crossing the bed of the dried up loch and a Land Rover parked just before the first of two bridges.
The first, lower, bridge was pretty much intact. Much of the tarmac layer had been removed through the action of the water, but it was sturdy and firm. The remains of the second bridge also looked, at fist glance, to be fairly sound. Only upon closer inspection was it clear that half of the road width had collapsed. That, and the stripping of the tarmac layer, left a jaggedy puzzle of rocks which I crossed (on foot) with some trepidation. It did, however, stay up at least long enough for me to get a passing couple to get a photo of me on it, just for scale.
Beyond this, a causeway led over to the higher ground and I was soon on that, now heading for Cluanie.
The old road carried on in the same patchy tarmac way until it crossed the shoulder of the South Glen Shiel ridge, and now I was on familiar ground again. Dropping down to the Cluanie Inn was really quick and then I found myself at the bar for the second time today - ordering beer and a fantastic toastie. As a bonus, it was even warm enough to sit outside and take in the fantastic scenery. All too soon though, I knew it was time to get going and so headed back along the road again to pick up the track in to Glen Affric via An Caorann Mor . This started really well, a steep gravelly track led up off the road and I was gaining height reasonably quickly and making good progress until I reached a little quarry and then my heart sunk. The way ahead was clear enough, but it involved ankle-deep mud, heather and bracken and was almost completely unrideable.
Resolve got me through. 5-6km of ankle-grabbing heather, of cursing and swearing, later and I was, at last, descending towards the hostel. The track east of this point was very bouldery and rough, but I didn't mind as at least I was pedalling and not walking. As a bonus, I knew I was very close to my chosen camp spot for the evening and so would be able to get myself organised and fed before the fast approaching dusk turned into full-blown dark.
I recognised the little hillock from a previous visit and dragged the bike over the last heathery peat-hag towards it, absolutely done in. Hunger, however will not just lie down and take it, so it was on with the stove while I got the tent set up. I took the precaution of pitching on top of the hill to get the most of any midge-diverting breeze. In what seemed like only minutes later, it was full-blown dark and I settled down to dinner with that warm, fuzzy glow that is often the payback for these strenuous days.
Day 2
Morning dawned (I have no recollection of waking up through the night) and it was a perfect day.
After some porridge it was to time to pack up and head towards Loch Affric. I knew the first part of the path was going to be very bouldery, but I was now fresh and enjoyed picking a good line through the worst of it. Getting to Strawberry Cottage, I was now on a much better surface and I made good time along the south side of the loch looking for my next turn off. This was easily spotted, with a Right of Way sign at the start, but the track quickly disintegrated into a rocky, rooty, muddy mess. I was off the bike again, pushing it through the mud and bracken and trying to find a route past various tress and bushes. After what seemed like 30 minutes or more, I took a good look at my progress and had to make a decision; carry on uphill not knowing how long this would go on, or divert on the longer, but faster forest roads. It didn't take me long to decide and soon I was back at the lochside, spinning away.
The track along here is completely non-technical but the scenery is completely awesome and well worth exploring. Before too long, I'd arrived at the road end and headed down the tarmac for the turn-off to Tomich. Once through that charming little village, the tarmac again ends and it's back on forest road to Cougie - another of those places I'd spotted on a map and determined I'd one day visit. Have a look on the OS map. Cougie appears as this little clearing, surrounded by trees and yet at the meeting point of so many through trails.
I was lucky enough to bump into one of the owners and spend a good 30-40 minutes just chatting away about everything and nothing - including some of the trails, his exploits in doing long-distance off-road routes on horse back and a forthcoming movie shot in Glen Affric. He also explained that the track I'd turned back on would have improved after a kilometre or so and would have been rideable. Not only that, but the signpost I's spotted is actually in the wrong place an should have been installed a hundred metres or so further West. I was kicking myself for lack of patience! I could have stayed longer, but it was getting increasingly overcast and it looked like I was about to get very wet.
My trail to the South West started off well, heading gently but relentlessly uphill it got boggier nearer the wide and open col, which is where the rain caught me too. Finally speeding away downhill was fun, but the amount of water being sprayed up by the tyres was of biblical proportions and it was no surprise that by the time I reached the River Doe I was completely sodden. I managed to cross at a fairly wide and shallow section and picked up the landrover track to Ceannacroc on the opposite bank.
My original plan had been to head along the A887 to Achlain and then over he old military road to Fort Augustus but by now, I was cold and wet and the overcast sky was bringing on an early nightfall. After a short snack and some map work, I decided that I would, instead, head directly back to Invergarry via the A87.
The climb up past Loch Loyne, whilst a bit of a drag, was fabulous for giving me the chance to look back along the Loch to where I had crossed the previous day and I did, of course, get a chance for a photo of Loch Garry :-)
At Invergarry, I quickly dumped the bike in the car, grabbed some dry clothes and availed myself of the hospitality on offer in the. A wee half and a decent meal was a fabulous way to round of a memorable trip!
An example of this was while I was looking at OS Landranger 34. There. leaving from the Tomdoun Hotel is a clearly-marked track which simply heads north and disappears into Loch Loyne, only to emerge 800metres or so later and carry on over to the Cluanie Inn. My curiosity led me to do some digging and I discovered that this track is actually the remnants of the old motor road north - the actual "Road to the Isles" - which was closed when the dam at Loch Loyne was built and the water level raised. By the wonders of modern technology, I was also able to follow the track on satellite/aerial imagery and on some images the road was still clearly visible for its whole length beneath the water. My instincts told me that there must be some occasions when the water level would be low enough to see the road in its entirety. A couple of emails to Scottish Hydro confirmed that this was, indeed, the case and the best time would be late September/early October as the water levels are drawn down in preparation for the winter. However, no one would be able to confirm when the required level had been reached. The idea went on the back-burner for a while - 18 months or so - but eventually, I decided to head up and have a look. In order to make it more of an adventure, I also decided to do some bike-packing and spend a couple of days on some tracks I knew, and some I wanted to explore.
Day 1
The ride started at Invergarry. Looking around for somewhere to lave the car safely, I decided to ask in the Invergarry Hotel and was very pleased when they suggested I just leave it in the car park. From there, I was able to get onto the riverside path, signposted as a Right of Way to Tomdoun. After a few km and a short stint o the road, I reached the car park and the forest road. I had a really pleasant trip along here, in countryside I'd often seen from afar and was delighted when, after a while, I recognised the route of the A87 high up on my right and I could even make out the car park where everyone stops to see the famous view of Loch Garry - the one that makes it look like a map of Scotland.
The bike, which had being going great guns, then decided to let me down. Well, to be specific, the bottle cage did. Spurred on by the thought of saving a few extra grammes, I'd bought a Titanium bottle holder. Here was I on only the third outing and it had snapped in two, expelling the bottle which caught, momentarily, in my legs before hitting the track. Soon after, I reached the bridge over the loch - around the central belt if you like - and the road to Tomdoun where I stopped for a pint and a sandwich. This was a very friendly little place, the staff genuinely interested in where I was off to. When I told them, they were able to confirm that the road was in fact completely uncovered and in fact they kept a key to the gate so that car drivers (a 4x4 would be recommended) could drive up for a look. I was very comfy at the Tomdoun, so much so that I could have quite happily had another, but having some distance to go, I thought I'd best press on.
After passing the locked gate, I found the old road. Patchy tarmac in most places, with roots and grass breaking up the surface. A short climb and then the view opened out over Loch Loyne. Vaguely, ahead of me, I could make out the road crossing the bed of the dried up loch and a Land Rover parked just before the first of two bridges.
The first, lower, bridge was pretty much intact. Much of the tarmac layer had been removed through the action of the water, but it was sturdy and firm. The remains of the second bridge also looked, at fist glance, to be fairly sound. Only upon closer inspection was it clear that half of the road width had collapsed. That, and the stripping of the tarmac layer, left a jaggedy puzzle of rocks which I crossed (on foot) with some trepidation. It did, however, stay up at least long enough for me to get a passing couple to get a photo of me on it, just for scale.
Beyond this, a causeway led over to the higher ground and I was soon on that, now heading for Cluanie.
The old road carried on in the same patchy tarmac way until it crossed the shoulder of the South Glen Shiel ridge, and now I was on familiar ground again. Dropping down to the Cluanie Inn was really quick and then I found myself at the bar for the second time today - ordering beer and a fantastic toastie. As a bonus, it was even warm enough to sit outside and take in the fantastic scenery. All too soon though, I knew it was time to get going and so headed back along the road again to pick up the track in to Glen Affric via An Caorann Mor . This started really well, a steep gravelly track led up off the road and I was gaining height reasonably quickly and making good progress until I reached a little quarry and then my heart sunk. The way ahead was clear enough, but it involved ankle-deep mud, heather and bracken and was almost completely unrideable.
Resolve got me through. 5-6km of ankle-grabbing heather, of cursing and swearing, later and I was, at last, descending towards the hostel. The track east of this point was very bouldery and rough, but I didn't mind as at least I was pedalling and not walking. As a bonus, I knew I was very close to my chosen camp spot for the evening and so would be able to get myself organised and fed before the fast approaching dusk turned into full-blown dark.
I recognised the little hillock from a previous visit and dragged the bike over the last heathery peat-hag towards it, absolutely done in. Hunger, however will not just lie down and take it, so it was on with the stove while I got the tent set up. I took the precaution of pitching on top of the hill to get the most of any midge-diverting breeze. In what seemed like only minutes later, it was full-blown dark and I settled down to dinner with that warm, fuzzy glow that is often the payback for these strenuous days.
Day 2
Morning dawned (I have no recollection of waking up through the night) and it was a perfect day.
After some porridge it was to time to pack up and head towards Loch Affric. I knew the first part of the path was going to be very bouldery, but I was now fresh and enjoyed picking a good line through the worst of it. Getting to Strawberry Cottage, I was now on a much better surface and I made good time along the south side of the loch looking for my next turn off. This was easily spotted, with a Right of Way sign at the start, but the track quickly disintegrated into a rocky, rooty, muddy mess. I was off the bike again, pushing it through the mud and bracken and trying to find a route past various tress and bushes. After what seemed like 30 minutes or more, I took a good look at my progress and had to make a decision; carry on uphill not knowing how long this would go on, or divert on the longer, but faster forest roads. It didn't take me long to decide and soon I was back at the lochside, spinning away.
The track along here is completely non-technical but the scenery is completely awesome and well worth exploring. Before too long, I'd arrived at the road end and headed down the tarmac for the turn-off to Tomich. Once through that charming little village, the tarmac again ends and it's back on forest road to Cougie - another of those places I'd spotted on a map and determined I'd one day visit. Have a look on the OS map. Cougie appears as this little clearing, surrounded by trees and yet at the meeting point of so many through trails.
I was lucky enough to bump into one of the owners and spend a good 30-40 minutes just chatting away about everything and nothing - including some of the trails, his exploits in doing long-distance off-road routes on horse back and a forthcoming movie shot in Glen Affric. He also explained that the track I'd turned back on would have improved after a kilometre or so and would have been rideable. Not only that, but the signpost I's spotted is actually in the wrong place an should have been installed a hundred metres or so further West. I was kicking myself for lack of patience! I could have stayed longer, but it was getting increasingly overcast and it looked like I was about to get very wet.
My trail to the South West started off well, heading gently but relentlessly uphill it got boggier nearer the wide and open col, which is where the rain caught me too. Finally speeding away downhill was fun, but the amount of water being sprayed up by the tyres was of biblical proportions and it was no surprise that by the time I reached the River Doe I was completely sodden. I managed to cross at a fairly wide and shallow section and picked up the landrover track to Ceannacroc on the opposite bank.
My original plan had been to head along the A887 to Achlain and then over he old military road to Fort Augustus but by now, I was cold and wet and the overcast sky was bringing on an early nightfall. After a short snack and some map work, I decided that I would, instead, head directly back to Invergarry via the A87.
The climb up past Loch Loyne, whilst a bit of a drag, was fabulous for giving me the chance to look back along the Loch to where I had crossed the previous day and I did, of course, get a chance for a photo of Loch Garry :-)
At Invergarry, I quickly dumped the bike in the car, grabbed some dry clothes and availed myself of the hospitality on offer in the. A wee half and a decent meal was a fabulous way to round of a memorable trip!
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