And the best bike for bikepacking is....

The one you already own…

It’s a bit of a meme, I know. Oft asserted by the old hands who have carefully built up their bike collections and have a bike for every possible niche.

For a bit of a change, I thought I’d go against the grain a bit and do away with that, choosing to take out my “Less than appropriate” Orbea Occam on a trip I’ve been thinking about since I moved to Aviemore 6 years ago. Simply enough, it’s 50km to the trail centre at Glenlivet, so ride there, bivvy, do the red descent, then ride home.

To help with the load bearing, I fitted a Gorilla Cage to the one set of bottle mounts on the frame. That gave me some storage space low down. My insulated jacket squeezed into a small drybag there. I also fitted an old Ortlieb 3L saddle bag that I bought years ago for commuting. That held a couple of inner tubes, tool, levers, some snacks and a few items of clothing I might want through the day. Having packed those, the rest of my overnight kit went in a 25L rucksack. It was by no means full and the weight wasn’t so great as to feel uncomfortable.

It’s a fairly well-kent route, heading up past Ryvoan Bothy, past Dorback Lodge and on to the Burn of Brown.

The trails were all very dry and I managed to make all the river crossings dryshod. However, at this point, disaster struck. A bottle of Smidge I’d been carrying in the side pocket of my rucksack had bounced out. This was potentially the end of my ride. Bivvying with just a tarp and no midge protection at this time of year was likely to be fatal. A quick check of the time and I reckoned I might just make it to the one shop in Tomintoul before it closed – though I had no idea what time that was. What had been a leisurely ride became a sweaty race and I pulled up to the Tomintoul Post Office at 18:05. Thankfully, they were still open and I managed to come away with a bottle of Jungle Formula.

I was now desperate for food and drink so popped into one of the hotels for a cold beer and some hot food. I made the mistake of taking my GPS with me and, when browsing through the maps, came up with another option for the night – to head to Faindouran with a view to the Fords of Avon and Loch Avon in the morning and a climb up Coire Raibert to get back home. This was only really an option due to my choice of bike and carrying most kit in my rucksack. The thought of lugging a laden bike up Coire Raibert would never have occurred to me.

In the end, I opted to stick with Plan A. There is something particularly refreshing about camping high. As I left Tomintoul, dusk was settling in and I took the Speyside Way to the top of Carn Daimh. Given previous experience with other sections of the Speyside Way, I should have known better…

I was suckered in at the beginning as there has obviously been some recent pathworks on this section. This flock of sheep were certainly making good use of it.

After that, it did the SSW trick of running around field margins over tussocks, before making a beeline up a hill. I was just able to keep enough momentum going, particularly thankful for the rear suspension. As I climbed, the sun was just beginning to dip below the nearby hills.

 By the time I made it to the summit, the sky had become a deep red.

Despite the quite fierce wind, I hung around sheltered by the viewpoint as the world around me went dark. It didn’t look like the wind was about to drop any time so I headed downhill into the lee and came across a great little spot for my tarp. As I was setting it up, the wind DID drop and I was suddenly engulfed by the flying hordes. I scrambled to put on a midge hood and leg warmers and considered decamping to the top of the hill. However, the lull was only brief and the wind picked up again, just as strong. Decision made, I was here for the night.

I had a pretty good nights sleep. One pee break at 2am, then an alarm call at 5:45 for the dawn. It was overcast and dull so nothing to write home about. Another nap ensued before I packed up and headed to the top of the red trail.

Not my fastest descent and the amount of seat drop I could manage was limited by the bag I’d fitted, but great fun and even better knowing I’d not have to take that dumb-assed route back to the trail head. Instead, I headed back to Tomintoul for breakfast.

After breakfast, the route back also gave me the opportunity to stop at the viewpoint I’d had to speed past the night before, en route to the shop and midge salvation.

I wasn’t the only busy soul around, especially now that the heather is in full bloom.

So, a great trip. Proof enough for me that you don’t need to spend a couple of thousand on Ti-framed, B-Plus bikes with expensive, niche bags (though feel free to do so). If I lost out on some road/gravel sections, I certainly made up for it on the fun singletrack and descents. There are also other routes (like my Loch Avon idea) that suddenly become a lot more do-able. My one piece of advice though would be to, instead, spend some of that money on lightweight overnight kit. Once you can cut the weight and bulk, opting for a rucksack is nowhere near as bad as it might be (and I’ve made that mistake in the past).

Of course, I’m probably now blacklisted by the Guild of Bikepackers for my heresy, but at least my Orbea is in British Bikepacking Orange 🙂

Home to home

Piemonster (Shaun) had a plan that we should do a 2-day ride from his house in Burntisland to mine in Aviemore. I left all the route planning in his hands, other than adding a compulsory stop at Stewart Tower Farm. Shaun booked annual leave, I booked a train to Burntisland. Then Shaun contacted me the day before to tell me he wasn't feeling too well. Rather than let the plan be wasted I decided to do it solo, though Shaun accompanied me for the ride through Dunfermline. 

Bikes on trains are great. It always spells a.d.v.e.n.t.u.r.e.

Weather on the day turned out to be much better than forecast. It was weird to be looking at Edinburgh after having lived there for over 50 years.

We had a second breakfast at Aberdour before hitting the delights of Dunfermline (lots of houses but almost continuous cycle path), whereupon Shaun headed back and I headed up and over the Cleish Hills. It's a gradual climb up but gives great views over Loch Leven and a nice descent.

Soon enough I was on the shores of Loch Leven, following Shauns carefully mapped route and thus ignoring shorter/faster options.

I saw lots of these signs on the byways near Glenfarg

Almost every one was right before a climb  :roll: 

Before long, I was thinking about food again and considered stopping in Perth but I still had a goal in mind.

For those that haven't been, the cows that make the milk used in the ice cream are in the field next door. It's as close to zero food miles as you can get so I always "support their business".  :lol: 


Some of Shauns route choices were, err, eccentric.

I'd no idea of how deep this was going to be but escaped with just damp soles.


Not a bad gateway for a Sustrans route.

Just don't expect the same standards everywhere.


At Killiecrankie I took another Shaun bypass option.

By this time, I'd already planned to stop for food in Blair Atholl but was now left wondering what my next step would be. With no sparkling and witty banter to be had, I didn't fancy hugging the bar for a couple of hours, so the original plan of bivvying in Blair and then heading for breakfast at House of Bruar was cast aside. It was all now about how far it was worth pedalling on. I even considered just riding home. I'd likely arrive about 1 am. However, I really enjoy sleeping outdoors so, after finding out that the Newtonmore Grill opened at 6:30, I decided to head north and see how the legs were. 

You can check out, but you can never leave.


I obviously had a tailwind coming over Drumochter as I found myself reaching Dalwhinnie before 10. And then the rain started. That made up my mind and I decided to find somewhere to pitch. With two roads and a rail line to consider I reckoned on a spot at the end of Loch Ericht for a bit pf peace. While it hadn't been too windy, I now had a wind coming right up the loch. Ignoring thoughts of recent dam bursts I found a sheltered spot on the dam wall. 

In fact, it was so sheltered that I was even getting midged.

What followed was, I think, the worst nights "sleep" I've ever had. I was comfy, warm, tired and sheltered from the wind I could hear gently roaring over the dam but I just couldn't get to sleep. I reckon I had maybe 2-3 hours in total, broken up through the night. I was also getting various cramps, possibly from dehydration. Maybe I was subconsciously just wishing I'd cycled through the night and gone home.


By 5 am I was ready to strike camp (in the rain) and head north to Newtonmore.

I arrived just as the cafe was opening and sat eating my roll surrounded by drowsy truck drivers, obviously all wondering what the hell I was doing there. A constant light drizzle followed me home, with me getting there at 9 am. 


All in all, a funny old trip. Not as planned and a lousy nights sleep. Still, all good miles though and enough nice food to help make up for it all.

Leisurely Lismore Loop

Don't you just love it when a plan comes together and you can combine all sorts of things you wanted to do into a ride? The Isle of Lismore had come to my attention through working at Ticket to Ride, when one of the holidays we supported took that route to Oban rather than riding through Benderloch and Connel. Always keen to include a ferry (or two) in a ride, that looked rather appealing. I've also log had a hankering to cycle down the main road into Glencoe, with those wonderful mountains on each side. A bit of map work and I managed to come up with a 150km loop that would also give me a June bivvy opportunity.

An early morning start from home was required to get me to my start point at Bridge of Orchy so everything was prepped and packed the night before. The weather had been pretty foul for the past week or more so I was doing a lot of last-minute kit replacement as the forecast developed. Leaving he van though, I was finally committed and set off on the Amazon towards Forest Lodge and the West Highland Way. 

Ready for the off

I've walked this section of the WHW a couple of times but couldn't remember how rough it was likely to be. The initial "cobbled" bit was tedious and bumpy with no suspension, but it got much rougher as the highest point of the route was reached and I started the descent to the White Corries. I cajoled the Amazon down the track, trying to avoid the biggest boulders and soon made it to the ski area where I felt a second breakfast was in order.  

West Highland Way

The sun was putting in the best show it had for a while as I started along the A82 towards Glencoe. This was just how I'd dreamed/imagine it would be - a bit of a tailwind, bright blue skies, warm air and friendly traffic as I swooped further between the mountains. I was on a real high by the time I turned off the A82 past the Clachaig Inn and along the old road to Glencoe Village.

No caption necessary?

 

From here, I was able to avoid the main road almost completely. The cycle track took me to Ballachullish where I picked up NCN78 (The Caledonian Way) southwards. This takes a great route along the seafront at times, giving great views across to Ardgour and Morvern. 

 

My plan had been to catch the 16:00 ferry from Port Appin, but checking the time I saw that I was well ahead of that schedule and wold easily make the 15:00. However, I was enjoying myself so much, and the pedalling was so easy, that I decided to put in a little bit more effort and try for the 14:00. That would get me onto Lismore in time for the cafe and shop.  As it was, I was a wee bit early so had time to chill before boarding the quaint wee craft that serves as the Port Appin Ferry. 

 

Waiting to board

My first impressions of Lismore were that it is very, very green. It's also very relaxed and friendly and on my short ride to the Heritage Centre and Cafe I encountered loads of folk out walking and cycling on the one road that runs through the spine of the island.

It was clouding over a bit as I reached the cafe but it was still more than warm enough to be sitting outside and relaxing over my food. I'd got here early and now basically had little to do other than find a spot to camp and chill for the evening.

Finding a camp spot actually proved to be rather more difficult than I'd anticipated. Lismore basically has one road, lined with fields of sheep and the occasional nice wee house and every track leading off the road goes to a farm or other house. Neither was there much in the way of tree cover to hide behind. I found a spot almost at the South end of the island where I had no fence to cross, there was only one farm past me and I could be a little way off the road. Furthermore, it had an excellent view North, East and South. I had a couple of other areas I'd thought about trying, and it was still fairly early (especially given it doesn't get dark until 23:00) but I was happy with where I was and to just chill out rather than searching around.

 

 

When I first arrived, the few sheep in the area wandered off. By the time I had the tent up and was lying in it having a wee rest, they were getting a bit more brave again. A little later, they would just ignore me as if I had been there forever. 

With only the sound of a few birds and the munching of the sheep to distract me, I settled down with some food and the hipflask and just watched as the evening slowly descended across the mainland. There was a big cruise ship (later found out it was the Queen Victoria) anchored just off Oban with a PA system that was threatening to spoil my solitude but it sailed off into the sunset.

A substantial difference in their accommodation and mine!

Sleep was interrupted by the sound of rain on the tent and a feeling that I was lying on the ground. Actually the ground, not my mat. It turned out that the mat had deflated slightly. This can appear to happen when the ground is very cold but in this instance I was concerned that there might be a small leak. In any case, a few breaths and it was back to being firm again, though it had softened again by the time I got up in the morning. 

Thankfully, the overnight rain had stopped by the time I got up and, other than having to pack a wet tent, didn't cause me any problems. The sun was already getting warm as I made my way to the other ferry terminal for the "big" ferry to Oban. Again, I was a wee bit early, giving me time to have a mooch around. 

 

MV Loch Striven

There are few finer sights than a bike on a ferry/

Coming off the ferry at 10:00 I was already feeling peckish so made for one of Obans many outdoor cafes. In my brief time there I had one foreign gentleman asking me all about my Bearbones riding jersey, asking what shop he could buy one from, another cyclist heading to Barra amazed that I had all my tent, sleeping and cooking gear in the few bags strapped on the bike, and an older motorcyclist impressed with the fact I was pedalling the whole 160km route. 

When I'd ridden all of NCN78 in a day, I'd skipped the little spur into Oban as I headed North. Today made me realise just how good an idea that had been as it's a fair old pech heading into the hinterland from sea level. Lovely roads though, with little traffic. This time, when I hit Taynuilt, it was on to the main road towards Dalmally. That meant I was now having to deal with some faster traffic but, other than one dodgy overtake at Loch Awe, it was all fairly relaxing stuff. 

Just before pulling into Glen Orchy, the heavens opened. I had seen the black cloud approaching for some time but I could also see the end of it and realised that it wasn't worth even stopping to put waterproofs on. Glen Orchy again put me onto quieter roads. I'd driven this road before and can't say it made much of an impression on me, but cycling it, with the decent weather, it turns out it's really, really, nice. The river is full of interesting pools and falls and there's even the most southerly remnant of the old Caledonian Pine Forest. In fact, I was enjoying it so much that I was finding any excuse just to stop and delay getting back to the van to finish what had been a really good ride. 

 

 

Summary: I went for a ride. Not much happened. It wasn't an "Epic". It was great!

 

May Summit Bivvy

Well, the weather has certainly been somewhat variable. Late snow falls and then a mini-heatwave gave me the idea of doing a high bivvy I had promised myself over the winter but had somehow never fitted in. 

I left around 17:30 in scorching heat and headed up towards Glenmore when I bumped into Neil out for a wee spin and he accompanied me for a bit of a chat (and was on hand to take a photo of/for me). 

Once at Glenmore, the hard work begins so it was a grind up the ski road to the Sugar Bowl car park then up the old zig-zags and thence to the car park.  

I made an effort to cycle up the main access track as much as I could but it's incredibly dry and dusty so traction was almost impossible to find. Luckily, I didn't have to cross any snow until past the Ptarmigan. What little there was created a bit of extra drag on account of it being so soft. With time in hand, I made it to the summit and worked out where the best shelter would be. 

I found a wee spot in amongst the rocks and laid out my bivvy bag, mat and sleeping bag before getting some water on for some soup. It was very relaxed, with only the occasional whirr of the Automated Weather Station for company every 30 minutes. I hoped it wouldn't be so loud as to stop me from sleeping. 

I watched the sky gradually change colour then, just after 10, I flashed Mim with my torch a couple of times and she confirmed she could see me from our bedroom window. That was quite a weird feeling; on the one hand quite remote, but with this very strong connection to home. 

I awoke just after midnight; (1) the moon turned out to be very bright, despite the overhead haze, (2) the wind had shifted and I could now feel it buffeting my bivvy bag and trying to get in the top and (3) my bladder was crying out for relief. The latter made up my mind. I quickly exited the bag, did the necessary, then picked up the bag and moved it round a bit to a big rock shelf I knew from a previous bivvy. However, I was now even more under the glare of the moon. Luckily, my hat was big enough to roll it down and cover my eyes. Though I could still hear the wind, I was now well out of it and settled back to sleep.

By 3:30 or so, the wind had turned again, strengthening too, and I was getting more buffeting which was also cooling me down quite a lot. I now faced the bivvy-dwellers dilemma - get more sleep or stare transfixed at the developing colours in the sky. 



After a while, I cooried down, knowing it wasn't too long before sunrise. At 4:30 I had the water on again for coffee. I've been experimenting with meths stoves recently, in preference to wasting partly-filled gas canisters and not had a lot of success. As it turns out, my meths was just getting too cold. This time, I had the bottle in a bag and the bag inside my sleeping bag being warmed up by my body. This worked a treat and it lit first time. 

After watching the whole of the north-east sky turn a flaming red, the sun eventually burst through and I could immediately feel some warmth from it. 

Packing away my gear, I took the mat out of the bivvy bag and found that the bottom of it was absolutely drenched through condensation. I guess an indication of (a) how cold the rock had been and (b) how well the mat worked given I had been warm enough on it all night. 

The return trip through Glenmore highlighted just how cold it had been, with frost on some of the parked cars. Back in the sunshine, however, it was again very pleasant.

Oh - and no midgies or ticks! This summit camping has much to recommend it.