New horizons

With all the recent rushing around, I almost missed out on my bivvy-a-month for September. Luckily, there are lots of spots close to home that are an easy cycle away so I set out at 9pm on 30th Sept to bash in a few miles, heading for a spot I'd attempted to camp in earlier in the year. On that occasion, I had the tent with me and a combination of frozen ground, snow and springy heather made me abandon that pitch in favour of somewhere else. This time, I was better prepared as I was simply taking a bivvy bag, mat and sleeping bag. 

The 22km cycle to the top of the hill was marvellous. Leaving the lights of Aviemore I passed Loch an Eilean and headed for Feshie Moor and the Uath Lochans. The mostly wide, dry tracks were interrupted by the sweetest singletrack by Loch Gamhna and I was on a real high by the time I started the steep climb to the bivvy spot. 

Casting around for the exact location I'd visited earlier, I noticed that the summer had brought on the birch trees a bit and that I'd subsequently have little view.  However, just a few yards away was all the view I needed and it was simply a case of unrolling everything and climbing in before my sweat started to chill. A beautiful star-filled sky indicated a likely drop in temperatures and since it was already after 11 I made do with a wee celebratory drink from the hipflask before tucking right into the bivvy bag and dropping off to sleep remarkably easily, proof of how tiring the last couple of weeks have been. 

I inevitably woke up a few times in the night but didn't grudge any of them as I was able to watch the moon rise and the stars multiply before catching the first pre-dawn glow over the horizon to the north west.

As it got brighter, I reckoned I'd head home for a decent breakfast so gobbled down a Clif bar, packed everything up and made my way back towards home, arriving back before 8:30. Less than 12 hours outside, but seemingly a whole world away.

This trip was a perfect example of the advantages of a bivvy bag over a tent. The ability to choose any spot to sleep rather than being constrained by tent pegs and pitching area gives a whole new flexibility and those brief moments of lucidity through the night give a chance to see the world changing around you more than the inside walls of a tent ever can. Any weight advantage of the bivvy bag is just an added bonus. Mind you, that might be it for the year. There's something very cosy about a tent when the weather gets very chilly and it's raining or snowing and as we head into the last three months of the year, I'm sure I'll be glad of that.

Home from home

After a few delays and false-starts, it's finally happened - I've moved to Aviemore. A move north has been a bit of a dream for a few years now although I had no definite destination in mind. Once we started looking round, we realised that Aviemore and the Cairngorms had almost everything we were looking for - after all, we've been coming on holiday to the area for years!

House removals were done with a bit of help from friends and a few trips in the van. However, I was careful to leave one bike behind as I intended riding up. With everything else done, I had a trip to the estate agent to drop off a set of keys so headed for Edinburgh in the van. Having attended to that duty, I had dinner and drinks with Mark then set off for "home". 

It was a bit weird sleeping in an empty house with just a sleeping bag on the floor, especially when the house had recently been full of my belongings. I slept OK though and was up at 6am for a quick spot of breakfast and coffee, then dump the last of my stuff in the van and park it in the street. That left just me, a bike and a minimum of kit to set off just after 7am. 

With a lengthy downhill start, I was well wrapped up and soon scooted down towards the airport just as the sun was rising over the Pentland Hills.

A short spin later and I was on the Forth Road Bridge, slightly amused at the sight of all the commuters heading to work. 

The section across Fife wasn't as tedious as I'd remembered it. Maybe it was just the weather doing its part. By the time I reached Kinross, I was ready for a bite to eat and remembered that I'd previously eaten in Cafe 39 on the main street. Once again, it did not disappoint and I set off replenished for Perth which has always been a significant waypoint for me going north as I feel it is where the Highlands start.

I'd given some thought to what route I would take out of Perth. The most direct approach is to use the cycle path alongside the A9 to Luncarty and then jump on to the main road for a while to Bankfoot. However, being in no particular hurry, I opted to take the signposted NCN77 which was a bit hillier but was pleasant nonetheless. I was already thinking about a second food stop but opted to bypass the Perthshire Visitor Centre at Bankfoot as I'd been in there so many times recently on my various travels to and fro with furniture and other belongings.

Howies Bistro in Dunkeld served up a great coffee and a cream scone to fuel me on the next stage where I had once again opted to stick with the main NCN cycle route. This starts by heading past the hotel and a rather rough forest track. Still, at least it wasn't muddy and the 28mm Marathons coped with it just fine. From here to Pitlochry it's all quiet roads and once Logierait was reached I was on familiar ground as I'd cycled this as part of the Etape Caledonia. The hills along here weren't as bad as I remembered. Perhaps it was the gearing on the Amazon or that I had just been taking things a bit easier up to this point. 

A brief detour in Pitlochry took me to Escape Route Cycles. I'd been hearing the noisy grinding of my chain all morning and my mechanical sympathies forced me to buy and apply some chain lube. I also bought a spare Powerlock chain link. I'd noticed I'd somehow forgotten to pack one and it had been praying on my mind all morning. With the prospect of the path over Drumochter to come, I thought it was best to correct that oversight.

In Blair Atholl roughly on schedule, it was time for another food stop to provide some reserves for the next, exposed, section. The Watermill was fairly quiet (for a change) and I had an excellent bagel. The warning at the start of the cycle path in Calvine is a little over the top!!

From here, it's a steady climb up to Drumochter Summit and for much of the ride you are far enough away from the A9 that you can enjoy the old road. Once Dalnacardoch and the "new" cycle path are reached though you are constantly aware of the traffic. 

Symbolic milestones passed quickly along here. With just over 100 miles done, I passed the hillside that marks the geographic centre of Scotland. After 7 hours of cycling, I could really say I was now in the North of Scotland. A little later, it's the high point of Drumochter Summit and then, finally, the signpost indicating the start of Highland Region. 

I was actually a little emotional at this point. After years of being a visitor, here I was on my way to being a resident. It's like a dream come true and I really felt that I'd followed my heart to be here.  


Ironically, given I was supposed to have left the traffic of the "big city" behind me, I was rather surprised to see the road completely stopped up, with cars sitting, engines switched off in some sort of road closure. As I whizzed along the now mostly downhill cycle path I received various jealous comments from car, bus and lorry drivers. Luckily, the accident that had caused the closure hadn't resulted in any fatalities (this time) and the road was being cleared just as I passed the spot. 

I was more interested in the way forward and, as the light started to fade, drew into the Ralia Cafe for a final rest, coffee and food. With so little distance left to travel, I was happy to take my time. I'd thought about rushing along to beat the sunset but I've really taken to riding in the evenings and in the dark so I was happy to see the sun dropping below the ridge of hills, switch the lights on and head through Newtonmore and Kingussie. 

It was all feeling quite effortless now, spinning along in the twilight and thinking of the fact that I was actually heading home. By the time I saw the lights of Aviemore I was feeling quite elated.

So, that's it. After 50+ years of living in and around Edinburgh I've finally relocated. The house isn't the wee, rural cottage I'd imagined but having weighed up all the options we have a terrific location, great views and so much on our doorstep. No wonder we've returned to the Cairngorms time and time again. The one downside is that we'll have to find somewhere different to go on holiday!!

Now the skylines reach my eyes

The ridge stands out in Highland skies

I just can't believe I'm going home

It's not a race you know......

About to cross the line

I've always been a bit ambivalent about cycling as a sport rather than a hobby or pastime. It seems that, as a nation, we concentrate too much on the former and don't really translate that into what is, for most participants, a fun activity. However, a few years ago I was persuaded to take part in a triathlon where I would just be doing the cycling stint. It was the first time I'd donned a number for biking and it was actually a bit of a buzz competing against other riders.

When I started to take the road biking a bit more seriously, I reckoned that the incentive of some sort of competitive event would help me get out more on those colder, darker, wetter days and it seemed to work. By entering a few more Sportives, I found I was pitting myself against mostly like-minded folk - they weren't in it for the "racing", had no intention of joining up to some road club with its regimen of training and diet, but it was a bit more committing than a ride to a cafe. One down-side of this was that I found it was starting to interfere with my "other" riding. If I had an event a few weeks away, I'd be thinking about that, wondering if I was going to hurt myself off on some mountain somewhere and I found myself turning down other riding opportunities accordingly. So, I decided to give it a rest for a while. However, around September last year (2012) I got a bit caught up in the excitement of the Pedal for Scotland rides and found myself entering for 2013. 

When summer 2013 came along I'd not really been out on any fast road rides and with a lot of upheaval at home, I'd more or less written it off. However, as the date finally approached, I found myself getting a bit keener and so it was that I got up at 4am for a drive to Murrayfield and a bus to Glasgow for a (supposed) 6:45 start. As it happened, we were late getting through and barely made the cut-off for the start.

Setting off, I felt distinctly under-dressed so I decided to pedal a bit harder and generate more heat. That worked fairly well and I found I was soon getting into a bit of a rhythm and slowly catching some of the riders who had started earlier. I did have one brief stop, to help a chap with a "puncture". It turned out that a valve core was loose so I helped him set that straight and set off again before I could cool down too much. 

The first feed station was in Galston but I saw no need to stop and whizzed past. I'm glad really as this was immediately followed by a bit of a hill and I'd not have enjoyed it with cold legs. The course undulated much as I'd expected and before long I found myself on a little bit I actually recognised passing Glengavel reservoir. However, the headwind along here was a bit brutal and I found myself all alone with no one to share the work with. After the descent into Muirkirk I seemed to get a little kick of energy again and overtook lots of other riders. I had one chap tucked in behind me for most of this section and while I'd have liked him to take a wee turn ahead of me, it was at least nice of him to thank me before we headed south again toward Crawfordjohn. This was actually a bit of a surprise as I was expecting to go straight on to Douglas (as per the PfS route map). It was about here that I found myself tiring quite a lot. With 55 miles down it was only half way and I wasn't sure I had another 55 mies in me. It was therefore with some relief that I made it to the second feed station. Again, I didn't want to cool down too much so I ate quickly, had a pee and set off up the road.

Now, my GPS was counting down I seemed to get a whole new perspective on the ride. I knew that Carnwath would soon be putting in an appearance and that's almost home! First though were the little twiddly bits round Roberton and up to Carmichael. This latter almost had me off the bike but I persevered, zig-zagging my way up the slope to help ease the gradient. 

When Carnwath eventually appeared, I was again in no mood to stop. With the field having thinned out now, it was mostly like a normal ride for me and I and just set out for Balerno as fast as my legs would carry me. I turned off for the timing mat, had a brief breather and then just pootled sedately down to Murrayfield for the "proper" finish line. 

Overall, I really quite enjoyed that. I think I was a bit quicker than I'd expected to be as once I saw other riders ahead of me it gave me a bit of a push to catch them up. I reckon a couple of Sportives might now be on the cards for 2014 - one early season, one late. 

For those who think it is a race, here's the finishing order.......

Finish Times

Protracted Farewells

Re-organising my life around a move north carries on apace. In the meantime, I've been looking at the calendar and wondering how I can fit in Augusts bivvy-a-month. It was clear it would have to be a time-constrained effort and that really meant local. As a bonus,that would give me a chance to  try somewhere that's been on my mind for some time. So, after dinner on Sunday night, I threw a sleeping bag, bivvy bag, a couple of snack bars and the ubiquitous hipflask into the Viscacha saddle pack and headed off up the Pentlands.

As I rode along, the evening sun was just setting behind me so I stopped for a quick photo. 

Sun setting over Bonaly

I arrived at my destination, Allermuir Hill, just before 9pm and found an ideal little spot where a semi-circular ring of stones had been formed into a low, crude shelter. The centre was still grassy so I knew I'd be comfy enough even without a sleeping mat. Having arrived slightly sweaty, I was now beginning to cool down so, spreading out the bivvy, I slipped into it and started to warm up while watching the street lights below. 

Sharing my adventure with 500,000 other folk. I had the best view though

Before long, i began to see the sea haar spreading in off the Forth, casting a weird spell on the capital city, gradually extinguishing the lights and leaving a glow instead.

Haar enveloping Edinburgh Castle

Those who decry the use of a bivvy, preferring a tent (I was one of them) are missing something. How often have you sat in one place for three hours, just watching nature takes its course? While I sat here, the moon rose, the haar waxed and waned and gradually the stars popped out. 

Moon over East Lothian

Eventually, tiredness caught up with me and I nodded off to a lovely sleep. I woke up a couple of times in the night, to turn over or adjust my body "just so" to avoid a rough patch of ground and I was aware of the mist having slid up the side of the hills to wrap me in damp air. When I woke to find the sky a bit lighter, I decided to get ready to head off and managed to catch the first rays of the sun as it rose through the mist. 

Early sun over Caerketton

Bike packed ready to head home

Thankfully, the mist also started to recede off the hill tops, leaving me with some stunning views of Edinburghs high points poking out. 

The distinctive "sleeping lion" of Arthurs Seat

As I turned away for home, I was aware that I was gradually letting go of Edinburgh and the Pentlands, where I've done so much riding these past few years. It's still pretty amazing that we are blessed with an area of relative wilderness so close to the city and that it has survived the explosion in recreational use. Here's hoping it stays like that and that I'll be back to enjoy it before too long. 

Still exploring

As the countdown to our move north carries on, I find myself looking even more intently at maps of the local area, identifying routes and trails I've never quite got round to following. It's a remarkable testimony to both the Scottish land access laws and the flexibility shown by the land managers that the network of trails continues to expand. 

Some fairly recent additions can be found at the Southern Uplands Partnership website. These trails have been marked and delineated primarily for horses and riders but they are also suitable for walkers and cyclists. Using some of their maps I was able to piece together a mostly off-road route between my home in Balerno and Peebles in the Borders so I thought it would be fun to use this as a way of visiting the 7 Stanes centre at Glentress. 

The first part of the route was completely familiar as it took me over the Pentland Hills to Ninemileburn, Carlops and then to West Linton. From here, it took a bit more map-reading and signpost-spotting to locate the preferred route to Newlands on the Edinburgh-Moffat Road. Truth is, some of the route hereabouts is downright awkward and I had to avoid one small section as it was shoulder-deep in brambles and nettles. The other issue is that it often follows field margins and so has lots of gates involving constant dismounting of the bike. 

After Newlands the route enters the Cloich Hills. This was all new terrain to me and despite a couple of questionable route choices - where the signposts didn't seem to match the map - I was soon in some very lonely glens. It occurred to me that these were, in their way, even more wild than some of the areas up north on account of the very low number of visitors and that a fall or injury might leave me lying here for days, or even weeks, before being discovered. 

Despite a few route alterations, I was soon overlooking Peebles from a very unfamiliar position. 

I then decided to take in a little of the Glentress MTB trails so headed up Janets Brae to the Buzzards Nest area and down the red/blue descent. The El Mariachi felt pretty good on these fast trails with a bit of gravity to help it gain speed.


Sitting in the Peel cafe at Glentress, enjoying the macaroni cheese, milkshake and coffee I'd ordered I was struck by how late in the day it had become and by how far I'd now have to travel home. With that in mind, I didn't hang about long and opted for what I thought would be a faster route. With a little road work up the A703 and then on to some minor roads it wasn't long before I was back in the Cloich Forest, with a whole different set of views. 

I've always thought that one type of riding we were lacking near Edinburgh was these long forest roads, and now I'd found loads of them in this small area.

I'd thought about using the roads to get me back to West Linton again rather than suffer the interminable series of gates I'd endured on the outward route but I persevered. It was supposed to be moutain biking after all! In West Linton itself, the little Co-Op was still open and that proved the perfect opportunity to pop in and get some cold drinks before the longer off-road section ahead. 

Popping back onto the roman road towards Carlops I was once again on familiar territory. On the climb up Monks Rig the combination of slope and headwind proved too much for me and I resorted to pushing for a little while until the gradient eased and I could get back into pedalling mode.  





Overall, a great day out and that lovely sensation of returning home just as the sun sets - a sure sign you've made the most of the day.

As for the trails, I thoroughly recommend them. Take a map,  be prepared for a few diversions and don't be afraid to wander and explore. Who knows what you'll find.