A weekend out West

The generally poor weather this year has really cut back on my longer trips away. The combination of cold, wet, windy and generally unpredictable weather has resulted in a few last-minute call-offs and a general reluctance on my part. It was therefore useful to have the incentive of agreeing to go with some other riders and not wanting to call off. The plans for the weekend had been fairly fluid, but the main event was to be a ride alongside Loch Morar on a route which has been very highly recommended.


Friday


It's a fair trek out to the Morar area so the plan was to break the journey up with a couple of circuits of the Laggan Wolftrax trails. This is probably my favourite trail centre as the Red routes are around the limit of my comfort zone and just that bit more challenging than the likes of Glentress. I'd been round Glentress on my Fatbike a few days previously and, having really enjoyed it, I thought I'd try the same at Laggan. 


Well, it was different. The rather rockier nature of both the upper and lower red loops didn't really suit the lack of suspension and the undamped rebound from the tyres was in danger of making the whole thing uncontrollable. It was much better on the smoother sections , like the zig-zags on the upper red and the bottom "jump" section on the lower where the tyre volume and grip could really be appreciated.


After a wee snack break, I decided to go round again on the Blur. I'd had it round here previously and really enjoyed it, so I set off up the hill with a big grin and with great expectations. 


Unfortunately, it all went to pot. The bike seemed uncontrollable; I was finding it hard to get the correct amount of steering input and to keep it pointing where I wanted to go. The slower I went to counter this, the more the bike seemed determined to fight against me. Eventually, I had to get off and walk a few sections. I was mortified. I'd never had to do this at Wolftrax before but I just couldn't seem to ride it. My first thought was that there was something wrong with the bike. something loose or incorrectly adjusted. However, a good check seemed to indicate that the bike was just fine. That meant it was pilot error. I can only assume that having ridden the Fatbike for so long, I was just failing to adjust myself to the different steering and handling. 


Either way, I was really despondent when I left Laggan headed for Morar.


Choosing a camp-site around Arisaig isn't simple. There are quite a few and they all have lovely views. Having tried a couple previously, I noticed that the site at Camusdarach was closest to Mallaig where I'd be meeting the others for food and drinks, so that got the vote. It's a lovely site, even though it's a little walk to the beach. However, the beach is probably the most famous in Scotland....








Saturday


In an uncharacteristic break in the prevailing 2012 weather pattern, Saturday dawned fair and even fairly warm. That was great as it meant less spare layers to carry. Meeting at Morar meant I got to cycle to the start, so I was already warmed up when we set off. The route starts on the "old" road through Morar before cutting off onto the dead-end road along the north bank of the loch. This had a fairly big hill near the start, which had us all huffing and puffing a bit, but also gave a great view along the loch and a nice easy descent almost to the end of the tarmac. leaving the road here and carrying on along the good track was great - a real sense of heading into the wilderness.


The track itself is mostly rideable. There are a few steep, rocky climbs heading East and one section which is made up of boulders under a cliff which involved a short carry. It's all fun though - mainly dry, rock or gravel with oodles of grip and enough ups and downs to maintain interest and provide a variety of views along and across Loch Morar. 




Reaching Swordland - all two houses - was almost like arriving in civilisation and after a short climb up the landrover track, we could see the cairn marking the top of the pass and the descent down to Tarbert. 


There's not much at Tarbert. A couple of farm buildings and a church  - now converted into a bunkhouse - are all you'll find. The view north to Knoydart and Skye is rather curtailed by the narrow bay, which does at least have the advantage of being a nice shelter, although the cold breeze we'd been shielded from all day had us donning jackets as we sat around, ate and generally chilled.






When the cold started to feel too much, we headed back up the hill we'd not long descended and were soon at Swordland again. Almost immediately, it was time to remove the jackets and we enjoyed another lovely ride along the singletrack, descending the bits we'd struggled or pushed up on the way out and trying to remember what line choices we'd picked out. 


Louise HAD to go for a wee swim - brave lassie, so we stopped for a few minutes at the lochside before the end of the track and then set off up the tarmac road. Stopping briefly at the top, we set off on a gravity race - no pedalling allowed, see who gets the furthest. I'm sure I would have won if I hadn't been knocked into the verge :-)


Upon arriving back at Morar, all that was left was to enjoy a pint in the sun, taking in the general ambience and reflecting on what must be one of the best bike rides in the Highlands.





Sunday


I had eschewed all attempts to get me riding at Fort William in favour of a little exploring round Camusdarach beach. While the morning wasn't quite as warm as Saturday not helped by a cool on-shore breeze, it was fabulous to be riding no "Bens Beach", made famous by Local Hero. This is a fantastic little movie which regularly ranks amongst the professionals favourites. Witty, charming and still very relevant. I guess that any remake would feature wind-farms rather than oil facilities, but the conflicting messages are still there; protect the landscape - hoping that it has its own value plus that of tourism, or allow development, bringing jobs and relative prosperity. 





So, from being rather despondent by my performance on Friday, through an excellent evening and ride on Saturday, to the fulfilment of a dream I've had since I acquired the Fatbike, my mood was much better when it came to pack up and head home, dreaming of more good days out!

Springing into action

It's been a while since I posted on the blog. Initially, this was due to me being pretty idle. Apart from that lovely week in March, it seemed like we were having a re-run of November and, despite my best intentions, I was struggling to get enough enthusiasm to head outdoors. On the bright side, the van conversion is almost complete. It now only requires a couple of hard-to-find trim pieces to cover up some wiring.


After a bit of prevarication I decided to make the most of the van and head down to the 2nd UK Fatbike Gathering. One of the major attractions for me is that it was taking place in the English Lake District, and area I'm forever promising myself to visit and cycle in. The other was a chance to catch up with and meet some folk I've chatted with online.


The first surprise of the trip was due to my sheer laziness. Rather than looking through maps, I'd simply programmed the destination into my Garmin Dakota GPS and I was idly following the prompts when I noticed I'd turned into Ferry Road. No - I don't mean the one in Edinburgh, this was the ferry across Windermere, something I didn't realise even existed. I had a brief "moment" when I realised I might get charged as a minibus but a convincing reassurance saw me across for the car rate. As surprises go, this was rather pleasant and it really made me feel I was somewhere a bit special. 


Arriving at the site on Friday evening, I found the festivities already under way and the chat turned easily to each others bikes and gear, to firewood and to the planned ride for the morning where semi-drunken bravado added a few extra miles on to the route to enable us to ride to/from the site.


We were, magically, all ready to ride the next day as planned and it was a fair convoy of fat-tyred bikes that wove its way along the road to Hawkshead and then on to the Fells. Unusually for me, I had no route loaded in the GPS, no idea of where we were headed and I relaxed and let Andy guide us up hill. down hill, along adjoining roads, pushing where necessary and enjoying some cracking stony descents along the way.  All in all, it was grand riding. The weather was great, the company more so. Any walkers we meet were mostly agog at the fleet of bikes and everybody seemed to be in a fine mood. 








By the end of the day, we'd covered almost 51km, given a test-ride to a solo girl rider who was intrigued by the lake-riding, "suffered" a late lunch and enjoyed an ice cream along the way. A grand day out altogether, even if legs were getting a little weary at the end. 


Our plans for a pub meal, listening to whatever the live music was going to be were dashed when we found out the the pub was already full, but a fantastic offer from Mike to collect pizzas for us went some way to make up for that, even if we couldn't quite get the camp fire to generate the same amount of heat we'd enjoyed the night before.

Guaranteed to draw attention....

Sunday morning was a little less relaxed. The saying "time and tide wait for no man" has a very literal meaning in Fatbike land and we had to be off sharpish to make the most of the beach at Walney island. This proved to be pretty chilly, but it was a very relaxed bunch of fatbikers who played around on the beach, comparing tyre prints and experiencing the roack-crawling capabilities of the 5" Moonlander tyres. We made it back to the cars just as the rain started and   enjoyed each others company over Sunday lunch before all drifting off to make our individual ways home. 


All in all, a great time and my thanks to everyone who was there, especially Andy and Mike for being such great hosts. 

Stuc a' Chroin

Mim is back from Nepal and the plan is to keep the fitness going throughout the rest of the year, so at the first weekend available we decided to head off to knock off a Munro - the first "new" one Mim will have done for 4-5 years. I've climbed Stuc a'Chroin twice already - once by each of the publicised routes. While the "normal" route from Ben Vorlich has a lovely little scramble for added interest, I'd a feeling that Mim would prefer the more leisurely approach from the South. 


Having found our way to the little car parking spot at the end of the public road, we were both a bit surprised by just how chilly it was, despite the intermittent sunshine. So, it was an with all the layers and up the good track, past the farmhouse of Braeleny and we could already see most of the days route out ahead of us. At the river crossing at Arivurichardich we briefly considered running across the pipeline, before sensibly opting for the double river crossing, the water being low enough for a bit of boulder-hopping. Even the two geese honking loudly at us didn't put us off :-)


The path then climbs, steeply at times, to the col on the long SE ridge and then up that same ridge all the way to the summit. Mostly, it's a straightforward walk, but there are a couple of really steep sections that would require some care in more slippy conditions. Perhaps the best thing about this rote is the splendid isolation one feels. The scenery ahead and to each side is more reminiscent of Affric or Kintail than Stirlingshire, especially with the light covering of occasional snow patches, still lingering from the last few weeks. The view behind gives the game away though. Being on the edge of the Highland Boundary Fault, the views to the South cover all of the central belt as far as the distant Pentlands. 


Two and a half hours after setting off, we found ourselves at the summit - just as three other walkers were heading back towards Ben Vorlich. They were the only folk we saw on the whole trip and Mim remarked how peaceful and quiet it all was compared to the Everest base Camp route. We were also being buzzed by three ptarmigan, colours now swinging back towards summer plumage. I'm sure there would have been a nest nearby, so I made sure we moved to a spot where they were happy to leave us alone.

Mim at the summit

A wee spot of shelter just off the summit made a pleasant enough stop and the sun came out again to warm us a little and make it a bit less unpleasant to be hanging around. I was rather enjoying the experience, but Mim was already getting cold hands, so it was a quick pack-and-go and we were off down the hill again. 


All in all , another great day out and another Munro in Mims collection (I need to fire up the old spreadsheet and see how many that is now. For somewhere so close to home, it's really given me an incentive to be heading north soon.

Making the most of it

It seemed like a fairly simple plan. Mark was going to be off work on the Tuesday and rather than sticking to the Pentlands or visiting a trail centre, we'd both felt in the need to go a little bit further afield. Normally, I have a drive time: ride time rule. Never shall the former exceed the latter. However, I was prepared to bend it a little to make it up to the Cairngorms again, so much do I love that area for riding. As luck would have it, we also ended up with a little spring-time mini heatwave.

I'd spent the evening before the drive looking at maps and trying to work out what rides we could do, but here we were driving North and I still couldn't decide. A big loop - Burma Road perhaps? Play around in the corries? There really is so much to do that I only really decided as we saw the turn off the A9. We'd head for Loch Morlich, go over An Slugan to Nethybridge and back round via Ryvoan. Nothing technical, no gnarly jumping, just pleasant tracks through beautiful countryside.


I had the Scandal 29er with me. I'd been playing around with bar position a little, fine tuning it. This would be a good test and as we headed up the good landie track to An Slugan, the Scandal felt really nice, with the bigger wheels making smooth work of the trails. I'd only come this way once before and the forest had been pretty much cleared since then. What I remembered as a long, dark, steep climb was over in a flash and we had a real blast on the descent down to the road. I could see that Mark, on his Ibis, was able to blast over the terrain faster than I could, but that just made it more fun trying to keep up. 


After a short road section to the Boat of Garten junction, it was back into the woods all the way to Nethybridge. This is a great little trail - rooty, with little climbs and sharp descents. Very engaging. Out of Nethybridge, it was all landie track again to Forest Lodge and then that lovely vista which hits you when leaving the forest with the track of the Lairig an Laogh very visible over the shoulder of Bynack Mor. And what a day for it. with a stunning, clear blue sky and temperatures in the high teens, I felt truely privileged. 

Before too long, we rocked up at the Glenmore Visitors Centre for lunch, having begun to feel hungry just before. While the "main course" was good, we were both saving ourselves for the mega slice of Victoria Sponge which we'd spotted whilst ordering - and that was awesome!

With no hurry to get back, we decided to detour round Loch Morlich to see how we felt before making more plans. As it was, the weather was just getting better and better, so we set off on the Loch Einich track. Again, I'd only been down this way once before. I didn't remember it being quite so bouldery but I was certainly glad that the crossing of the Beannaidh Bheag was possible without dismounting. My previous visit had entailed a knee-deep wade! The track also seemed to be quite a bit longer than I remembered and it seemed that, like some mirage, Loch Einich was getting no nearer. Eventually, we made it to the loch. I took he opportunity for a quick head-dunk in the cold water and lay back on the grass just soaking in the sun, the sounds and the situation. With mountains on three sides, this really is a marvellous spot and it thoroughly put me in the mood for some camping.

After a while, we could sense the cloud just thickening a little and a cool breeze came down the loch. That was our signal to go and off we set down the boulder-strewn track. Again, I could see that Mark was having a slightly easier time of it on the Mojo and my cause wasn't being aided by a growing numbness in my hands, caused by the vibrations. I was very relieved when, 10 minutes later, we were on to smoother tracks again. 


The small climb from Rothiemurchus to Loch Morlich was despatched with wearier legs than had set out in the morning, so it was rather pleasing to reach the van and get ready for the drive home. 


Lessons learnt today? 
(1) Sometimes, rules are worth breaking.
(2) My handlebar position needs looked at again. 
(3) I need to get the bikepacking kit organised.


A big thanks to Mark for the company and for letting me use some of his photos. 

A new buzz

If you've read the wee "about me" box on the front page of this blog, you'll see that I make reference to some foot problems which have severely curtailed my hillwalking. I've had every type of test and scan available, tried foot-beds and gels and yet just can't crack the problem. 


Despite this, when my wife was beginning to get into training for her Everest Base Camp trek, I accompanied her a couple of times out running. It would appear that, if I'm careful, I can avoid the heel-strike which causes most of my problems. Now - I haven't run for years. Not since school in fact (other than running for a bus of course). It was therefore somewhat of a surprise to me that if I kept a nice steady pace and didn't run off hell-for-leather, I could actually do a couple of miles without any major trauma. 


With a few more attempts, I was able to go out one day and knock off 11km in a time just over an hour. I was very pleased and started to consider doing more. However, the colder weather hit us, the trails and pavements got a bit icy and my wife decided she'd stick to other forms of exercise so I left it at that.


Fast forward to spring and there I am in Go Outdoors looking at some snazzy Salomon Cross Running shoes. I had to have them! 


So today, and after a couple of recent bike rides when I've been feeling a bit low on energy, I decided to slip into my trainers and try a couple of laps of Harlaw Reservoir again. It was a bit of a shock of course, but after half a lap or so, and to he sounds of Ibiza Euphoria, I found I was really starting to enjoy it. The two laps I'd decided to limit myself to went in pretty quick and easy and when I stopped I did, indeed, have a sense of "euphoria". 


I never thought I'd be getting into running at the age of 53, but I'm definitely finding it stimulating and already pondering which hills I'll be using to break in my new shoes!