Mostly, this is random stories from my various trips as I collect them, but I've a wee backlog to get through too and those will pop up occasionally.

Feel free to leave comments.

Wednesday 11 December 2013

Back on Track


There seems to be something in the air up here. It seems I've only just put all my overnight gear away and it's suddenly the end of the month with my planned monthly bivvy/camp not yet ticked off. With that in mind, and the desire to get in a decent cycle, I opted to explore a mostly off-road route from Aviemore down to the sea. I'd tried the Speyside way before but I knew I simply couldn't face all those gates and, in any case, it's always good to explore. So, I opted for the Dava Way this time. Like much of the Speyside Way, this follows the track of an old railway bed. That means gentle gradients and often little architectural delights.

It's a good spin. Pretty easy miles and through some gentle, rolling scenery usually away from the roads but with occasional loops towards them in the event a change of plan is required. Aware of it being a long night in November, I left after lunchtime, planning to ride the last few miles in the dark. This is all part of my "training" for the Highland Trail 550 in May and it's good to be able to assess lighting and comfort when there's nothing much at stake and I'm in no hurry. From home to Grantown on Spey, I stuck to the Speyside Way. This has a few gates at the Grantown end but nothing to slow me down too much. Through Grantown and it's straight onto the 24 mile Dava Way. There are a couple of minor detours of the railway bed but mostly it's just a case of spinning along. 




Reaching Dava itself means it's basically all downhill to the coast and I reached the  forests on the outskirts of Forres just as it started to get dark. I got a bit of a shock when I reached the High Street as it's been closed to traffic and the Christmas Market is just finishing. 



Thoughts of grabbing something in a cafe or from a chippy were put to one side as everywhere is completely packed and I then decided to head straight to Findhorn and take my chances there. On the way, I passed Sueno's Stone and took a couple of photos. It looks fantastic lit up in the dark night. In fact I think the relief-work is enhanced that way. 



Leaving Forres along Findhorn Bay I was exposed to the strong Westerly wind. I'd been mostly sheltered from it before and I was  suddenly aware that I'd be a wee bit exposed in my tent tonight. In Findhorn, I found the Kimberley Inn. It looked lovely and welcoming so I was in like a shot for some food and a beer (or two). Again, I was in no hurry to leave as it would be a long enough night in any case. 

Finding a pitch on the beach turns out to be fairly tricky. I was trying to find a sheltered enough spot with a view of the sea and with some sort of soil able to take a tent peg. After much searching around, I eventually found somewhere and tried to get settled in for the night. However, it wasn't long before one wall of the tent came crashing in and I was out again, trying to sort things out. Eventually, I moved the bike upwind of the tent and lay it down on the sandy soil. The three guy-lines were then attached to the bike and - lo and behold - the tent was finally stabilised. A wee dram or two completed my night and I was soon asleep despite the roaring of the wind.

A mid-night pee break had me scurrying out of the tent for a few minutes into a complete, flat calm and with the wind having died right down I was also feeling the heat a bit so left the zips open for some extra air when I got back in. 

Early morning and the wind had returned. Still, I made the most of breakfast before packing everything quickly away and heading back the way I'd come the night before. I was expecting the return trip to be quite a bit slower and harder work as I was now fighting the headwind all the way but despite this, and the fact that I was  generally trending uphill all day, I actually made good progress and had enough time to stop in Macleans Bakery in Grantown on Spey for a bit of lunch. 

In total, I covered over 140km and took around 13 hours over the two days. Thinking about this, I reflect that I'll need to do that sort of distance every day, for 8 days in a row and over much rougher terrain if I'm to complete the Highland Trail Race in May!!

Wednesday 20 November 2013

The Race is On

I've never been much of a competitor - not in sports anyway. As a youngster I had neither the skills for the likes of football nor the fitness for anything more athletic. My participation in cycling has, almost always, been for relaxation, for enjoyment and for simply enjoying the outdoors. However, back in 2007 I was persuaded to take part in an event called 70 Wild Miles. This is/was a triathlon set around the Glencoe area that would involve me only in the cycle part - a 47 mile ride from the Grey Corries to Taynuilt. I can't deny that there was a frisson of excitement as I pinned the number to my jersey and stuck one on my bike. It was a nice ride, though I struggled on one particular climb, and I gave it my all approaching the finish line. 


Looking up the timesheets later that night confirmed that I had done "OK", but plainly there were a lot of folk better trained and fitter than I was. The event was primarily about fundraising but it had started a little spark in me to see what else I might be able to compete in. 

Fast forward a year and I found myself back at the Grey Corries to do it all over again. This time, I'd actually put a bit of effort into a training plan, I'd even bought a lighter/quicker bike. Again, I rather enjoyed the experience and, but for a handful of seconds, the team I was in would actually have won the event.


With a bit of enthusiasm now, I joined a group of internet-based buddies to do a wee bit of off-road racing in the Sleepless in the Saddle event. To be honest, I was cursing the guy that talked me into it as rain turned the track into a muddy slop that left me carrying the bike round the nine mile course for over two hours.  


Other than that, I've taken part in a few Sportives. These can hardly be classified as races, though many riders take them very seriously indeed. I find they can be a great way of meeting other riders and, on the busier events, the sight of someone a little ahead of me makes me work a wee bit harder just to catch them up. My goal with any Sportive has been just to finish in the top half of the field and I've been able to achieve that.


One event that many folk have asked me about is the Strathpuffer. I've often considered it and even went to help out a friend one year. However, the idea of riding round a forest for 24 hours, in January, mainly in he dark and with the risk of snow, ice and/or mud hasn't quite grabbed me enough.


So - fast forward to 2013 and what have I done? I've only gone and entered a mountain bike race. However, this is a race like no other. This is 560 miles through the Scottish Highlands, unsupported, in the manner of an Individual TIme Trial - http://www.highlandtrail.net/ I have no doubt whatsoever that this will be, by far, the toughest thing I've ever done. To put it in perspective, my Lands End to John o'Groats ride was 10 days of around 100 miles but with a comfy bed each evening, food provided and with luggage all carried for me. For the HT550, I'll be carrying my food, water, bedding, clothing etc and I'll have to do 70 miles per day regardless of how much of that is walking and carrying or pushing my bike. To say I'm apprehensive would be a massive understatement. 

A quick calculation shows that I have six months to get fit, develop my "camp-craft" and work out what kit I'll need and how little I can get away with. With a fall-out rate of almost 50% in last-years inaugural (though shorter) event I'm going to be very pleased just to make it round in the 8-day cut-off time whereas the fast guys (like Mike Hall - current record holder for the unsupported circumnavigation of the globe by bicycle) will likely do it in 4 days.

Sounds like I have two challenges to manage into 2014 then; get ready for the HT550 and yet not lose the fun and relaxation that I normally associate with riding my bike and camping. Expect this blog to be full of anguish, head-shaking and sheer panic for the next six months!!!


Thursday 24 October 2013

The Old Ways



In an effort to resuscitate my relationship with Scotways after a summer in which I've neglected my route surveying - and with a bit of a more selfish wish to follow through on an old project of my own - I recently cycled the old military road from Aviemore over the Slochd to near Tomatin. I'd already been over a bit of the route a few years ago and was always fascinated by the sight of the old road at my start and finish points.

For those that are unfamiliar with the military roads in Scotland, a bit of background; they are often attributed to General Wade who was tasked with improving the lines of communication in Scotland after the first Jacobite rebellion. He was followed by Major William Caulfield, whom history has rather forgotten. Of course, other older - and newer - military roads also exist and both Wade and Caulfield were often happy to use existing routes through the Highlands as a base for their roads. 

My introduction to these old roads was via my father who would often tell us when we were driving along sections that have now been used as the alignment for the modern roads. Most folk who've driven anywhere in Scotland will have been along one section or another, especially if you've ever been on the A9. He was always fascinated by their "antiquity" and I guess he passed that on to me. Of course, being a keen walker and cyclist, I've been able to find more sections than he ever knew existed. 

One of the issues with 300-year old roads is that most have gradually been over-laid, dug up, planted with trees or built on. It's therefore great to come across a section that is still largely intact, or at least where the existing line is both visible and can be followed on foot or on bike. 

As the section nearest Aviemore is now split by the A9 I headed onto the Wade Road from the access track to Kinveachy Lodge. the old route is plainly visible, though now barely used. 


Easy to miss this junction
 Like the Romans before him, Wade was keen to follow straight lines where possible so while he new track winds up in a couple of bends, Wade just goes straight up the hill. By paying close attention to the map I found the first confusing junction and headed further uphill, further away from any traffic noise. 

From here, the road carries on over some lovely, lonely countryside now bypassed by the more modern re-alignment of the road through and past Carrbridge. The route is briefly shared with an off-road alternative to National Cycle Network (NCN) route 7, including the use of the bridge at Sluggan. 


The beautiful Sluggan Bridge. Not Wades - he just forded the river. This was Caulfields work.
Where the two diverge at Insharn, the Wade route has a short, steeper climb through a bit of forest before coming out higher up and presenting an open view of the Slochd. 


Ah - here's a typical Wade bridge near Slochd.
A short descent over the Inverness-Perth railway line brought me back down to the old A9 and then it was a bit of a wait getting across the new A9.

Up until this point, the track has all been easy cycling so I was looking forward to the last few miles down to Raigbeg. It all started easily enough, with a new track joining up with the alignment of the old Wade Road near one of the numerous marker stones that infrequently mark the route. 


Marker stone. One of many on the route.
 Those travelling South would have had their first view of the Cairngorms from here and I can imagine the mix of awe and dread at seeing this during winter.


Snow-capped Cairngorms in mid October.
The track here is now used for access to a telecommunications mast so is in good condition as it crosses the spine of the hill, away form the noise of the traffic on the A9. Shortly though, the Wade Road becomes not much more than a depression in the heather. 


The line of the road is just visible but wider tyres would have been preferred.
 I managed to cycle most of it - through wishing I'd had the benefit of the Fatbikes 4" tyres - but it eventually defeated me as the depression got deeper, the ground got softer and the gorse got thicker. 


The old road seems to have been completely swamped here
A short diversion onto the shorter heather alongside got me almost all the way down to Raigbeg where the old road re-asserts itself at another marker stone. 


Another marker stone
From here, it's a short ride down to the houses at Raigbeg and along to Tomatin. 


Made it!
It's such a shame that there's a short unrideable section near the end of this route as it otherwise provides a pleasant off-road extension to NCN7 down to Tomatin but other than that it's a great way to get some idea of what General Wade was thinking when he was given the job of creating a road network for the Highlands. That he was held in high regard for his work, we can be in doubt. After all, he even made it into a version of the National Anthem....



Lord, Grant that Marshal Wade,
May by thy mighty aid,
Victory bring.
May he sedition hush,
and like a torrent rush,
Rebellious Scots to crush,
God save the King.



For those looking to sample some of this for themselves, the complete route description can be found on the ScotWays Heritage Paths website here. 

Thursday 3 October 2013

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.

Tuesday 1 October 2013

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