Harris

Amongst all the talk and scribblings on mountain biking in Scotland, two destinations are discussed in almost reverential tones - Torridon and Harris. The former has been on my mind a bit recently and I'm determined to get at least one trip up there later this year. In the meantime, a family holiday to visit the in-laws in Lewis gave me the opportunity to try one of the much-praised Harris routes. 

Although much of the mainland has had its wettest summer for a very long time, the far North-west and the Western Isles are actually reporting water shortages and we had already sat amused by the TV watching the floods down south while we were having 20 degrees and sun. Setting off for Tarbert in the van, the day had started with some low clouds although I was hoping they would burn off to leave us with another dry, warm day. 


After a brief stop at a local shop for some water and a wee snack I was at the start of the trail and contemplating what to wear. Although not exactly cold, the glen I was about to pedal up had a fierce headwind coming right towards me and I knew this would likely provide a wee bit of windchill. So, the Gore Alp-X jacket went on sans sleeves.


The path starts with a bit of a descent to the loch. Rocky steps and some very new-looking water bars added a bit of fun - until I had a quick look at the handlebars and noticed that my Garmin GPS had gone AWOL. Luckily, I didn't have far to backtrack to find it, but in trying to re-attach it, I noticed that it was no longer staying in place  - as of the clamp had somehow got bent. As a result, the GPS ended up in my pocket for the remainder of the journey. 


Anyone expecting a "standard" highland singletrack will be pleasantly surprised at the condition of the track. Even allowing for the dry summer, it is very well constructed, with a good, draining gravel surface. As a result, I was to stay dry and mud-free the whole trip. Reaching the end of the loch, the path starts its ascent of the obvious col ahead and can be seen snaking up. It's all bikeable with a wee bit of effort and the cairn at the top (complete with a wee bit of deer horn and someones discarded tent poles) is a welcome sight. Crossing the hill ahead can be seen the road from Tarbert to Lewis and the path now starts its fast descent almost to sea level. 


This is a real blast. Height is quickly. lost and more rocky steps and water bars give a little bit of an edge, with the fatbike soaking it all up. I'm aware that there's a turn-off to be taken and, just in time, I see the marker post, turning East towards the little road that now makes its way to Rhenigidale. Before long, and after negotiating a couple of small gates, I'm on the road and then there is the 12% sign, marking the start of the long steep climb. 


Although this might not exactly be classic mountain biking, it's hard not to enjoy the route at this point, remembering that this road didn't exist until 1989 (and isn't on my OS map of this area!). Once the road flattens off, it's a pleasant trundle until the almost equally steep descent starts. At this point, I stopped to see the path I'd later be ascending. It looks a killer!!


Although I had intended to go all the way in to the "village", the sight of a 13% gradient sign just after the turn off for the coastal path made me think better of it and soon enough I'm negotiating the contouring track, hugging the steep shoreline. Most of this proves to be rideable although I cautiously walk some sections, mindful of the remoteness of my situation and the potential consequences of a fall. 


After a couple of rises and dips, the path makes a beeline for a small beach, crossing a little wooden bridge. Ahead is the dauntingly steep climb known as the Scriob. 

Now - this might be a good descent for those with a head for heights and technical skills to match, but it doesn't take me long to realise it's well beyond me - in both senses. As a climb, it's a question of getting off the bike and simply grinding up each step, interspersed with the occasional lift/carry over the rockier steps. Of course, at this point I'm also shielded from the wind, so it's time for the local insect population to queue up for a bite at me. I think I'm getting away with it until a cleg takes a chunk out of my elbow, then flies off before I can swat it, only to return to the same point once the blood starts flowing!! If nothing else, this spurs me on to the breezier, easier angled top section of the path where I finally take a bit of a breather at a little cairn and waymarker at a junction in the path. 

From here, the rest of the climb is ridable and I'm soon at the summit, looking over towards Tarbert and the hills beyond. What follows is one of the most fun descents I've ridden. Fast, with some rocks to negotiate and of various levels of steepness. At last, I feel I'm getting some value for my recent efforts and the only thing slowing me down is the occasional need to get some feeling into my pumped-up wrists. After what seemed like quite a long time, but was actually only some 12 minutes, I'm back at the road with a little climb back to the van and the start point.

My thoughts on the circuit? Well, it's certainly a ride on the wild side, but I didn't feel that the long climbs were suitably rewarded and I'm not convinced it would be any better in reverse. Comparing it to recent trips, the north shore of Loch Morar is by far the better ride. However, there are other routes in Harris and I'll be back!

Some fine tuning

When I started this blog, it was with the idea of recording some of my trips so that I could refer to them when folk asked for ideas on routes in Scotland. I've read a few other blogs which have become more about gear reviews and I didn't want to end up copying them. However, I have been  acquiring some new equipment recently and it seemed relevant to mention it, why I'd bought it and my experience of it.


One focus for 2012 has been to improve my bikepacking gear. Previous off-road trips on the bike entailed the use of panniers and there have been a number of occasions (like my Speyside Way experience) where these simply got in the way. With that in mind, I've been looking at packing strategies and ways to cut both weight and bulk from the load. So, here are some recent changes...




Carrying
I've been casting envious looks at various folks bikepacking bags and the trend away from racks and panniers. One advantage of this is that there is less of a requirement for rack mounts - a feature dropped from most higher-end mountain bikes. Frame bags, large seat packs and handlebar mounting systems are all putting in an appearance. In looking around, it pretty soon became apparent that there were three main suppliers, of which Revelate (once Epic Designs) in Anchorage seemed to have the longest pedigree. So, I now have a Viscacha saddle bag, a Sweet Roll Handlebar bag and a Gas Tank for the top tube. I've held off on the Frame Bag pending a decision on what bike it would be best for as thee are custom fitted to each frame.

Fitted to the 9zero7, they look great and provide enough space for a decent camping trip. I've yet to work out what I want to do about carrying water, so this is currently supplemented by a small rucksack with hydration bladder.


Cooking
The last set of pots and pans I bought for camping was the excellent, but rather heavy, MSR cookset so I've been on the lookout for something a bit lighter and suitable for solo travelling. I discovered that most solo sets are a bit mean on volume. I like a decent sized meal when I've been walking or riding all day and some of the pans are simply too small. I was chuffed to find the Optimus Terra Weekend cookset had a main pan just less than a litre and a lid large enough to be used as a small pan too. With a heat-exchanger bottom on it, it's a little heavier than some alternatives but I hope that weight will be repaid with less use of fuel. I've also made a pot-cosy for it, further saving fuel and making single-stove cooking a bit more flexible. 


The set I bought was on offer with an Optimus Crux stove. This is slightly lighter than the MSR Pocket Rocket I already had but also has a natty folding feature which means it stows under a standard 220-250g gas cartridge, thereby saving some space. As the stove and cartridge also fit into the large Terra pan - along with a Primus windshield I'd also bought - I have one very compact cooking system.


The wee stove is amazingly quick to boil water, though it has an annoying habit whereby the flame seems to reduce in power once lit, meaning that I have to turn it back up occasionally. The pot cosy means that I can boil water add say, pasta, then take it off the heat and let it sit for 12 minutes or so. A quick blast and it's ready to eat. In the meantime, a small titanium mug lets me heat up some soup or a hot drink or something to add to the pasta. Leaving the pot in the cosy whilst eating keeps the food warm for longer too.




Sleeping
I've been keen to try bivvy-ing at some point but with the risk of getting my nice down sleeping bag wet (and therefore pretty useless) I've always put it off. Searching for a bargain-priced sleeping bag for a friend, I found the Mountain Hardware Lamina 35 on sale at Go Outdoors. Never one to miss a deal, I bought one for myself. It packs up almost as small as my down bag and weighs a little more. However, it's also much more easily washed so is more suited to short overnighters when I might be sweaty and not a little muddy. 


My lightweight, solo tent has been a Macpac Microlight. It was pretty much state-of-the-art when I bought it and has proven to be robust in some pretty rough conditions. However, with new materials now available, lighter weight options have been catching my eye. Also, it has one very annoying feature which is that rainwater can drip into the inner tent when the outer is fully open. 


I had my eye on the Tartpent Scarp for a while and was pleased to be able to pick one up second-hand off the Singetrackworld classifieds. It's a lot more roomy than the Microlight and has a big bonus of two accessible alcoves and doors. It's slightly lighter too. 


In use, the tent is very large for a solo user, though it would be a very tight fit for two. The fact that all the pegging points are on the guy lines means that there are fewer problems trying to get a good pitch as you can easily avoid placing pegs where there are rocks. The double door/alcove is great for keeping gear in and allowing some cooking space. One improvement would be to have the doors such that they are "diagonally" opposite. As it stands, the tent has to be pitched such that both doors are "downwind" of the centre pole. 

The night in Glen Feshie was extremely wet with almost no breeze. As a result, the midge were in attendance and I could see them thickly between the outer and inner layers of the tent. However, I managed to cook a meal without too many getting in to the tent, with a liberal application of Smidge stopping them from annoying me directly. I'd opened up the downwind roof vent to allow some ventilation, but the wind direction changed and I found a few drops of water were able to get onto the inner tent. These ran down rather than dip inside, so no damage done.


I woke up a couple of times through the night to the sound of heavy rain and it wasn't until after 6am that I woke up, found it was getting light and the rain had stopped. Applying a wee bit more Smidge, I opened up both the inner and outer tent and dozed on and off watching the shadow on the opposite side of the valley slowly creeping down as the sun got higher. 

Packing everything away after breakfast was simple enough. That's always a wee concern as it's never quite as simple as packing it all in the dry and comfort of your house. One mistake I later noticed was that I'd put the cooking kit in the saddle bag a different way and, as a result, I was getting some rubbing off the rear tyre when going over larger bumps. I'll keep my eye on this and might consider strengthening this lower part of the bag if it looks to be an ongoing problem.


So far, I'm pleased with the changes I've made. I just need to use them a bit more, get used to packing them away efficiently and make changes for additional days out. 

I have seen the future - and it floats....

Having walked pretty extensively in my beloved Scottish Highlands, I have developed a sort of instinct for route planning. This has helped me out when considering taking the bike too. So many lovely tracks disappear into bogs, end unexpectedly or meet an unpassable body of water, so routes often take circuitous detours or are avoided altogether. It was therefore with some interest that I chanced upon Packrafting. The theory is quite simple; carry a lightweight raft, inflation device, paddle and Personal Floatation Device (PFD) and then use it, where necessary, to cross lochs and/or follow rivers. There is also a natural affinity with Fatbiking - a sense of "go anywhere". Youtube is now awash with videos showing these rafts in action - many linked to bike journeys in a whole new niche called Bikerafting.

It's typical of these new toys that they are invented and developed in North America, where they seem to have enough folk ready to buy and build them for exploring remote parts. Imagine my delight then at finding out we have our own small Bikerafting community here in Scotland, with the guys at Back Country Biking, based in Aviemore.

Through a series of contacts, I found out that they were going to run an Introductory course, so I found myself heading up the A9 to Aviemore in some blazing sunshine, bike in van and all prepared for a new challenge. Andy from BCB met us all outside the Old Bridge Inn and went over the itinerary for the weekend, but he'd also brought one of the rafts with him. Frankly, I was rather taken aback. Packed onto a padded rucksack harness, the complete set of kit weighed a lot less than I'd imagined and was very compact, both factors influencing how much one would actually be able to travel with it.

Saturday morning was very warm, even at the 9:00 start time. After a bit of kit juggling, me strapping some additional gear onto the Jones handlebars, we set off in convoy up to Loch Morlich where we were taught how to inflate the raft. The technique (involving a large nylon bag) was pretty effective, even in the still air, and it didn't take much topping up with the blow tube to get the raft ready. 

For our first efforts, we paddled around the loch-side unladen. This was useful for getting a feel for the boat, practising paddle strokes and getting back into the raft on the open water. I was also able to try out the different models of raft. The small one I'd been allocated was an older, less pointed model whereas the newer, slightly larger and re-shaped version seemed easier to paddle in a straight line. 

After a short break on-shore, we were taught how to load the bikes onto the raft. It all looked very unstable, especially with all of the weight concentrated onto the bow. However, once afloat, it all made more sense. The weight of the bike seemed to help tracking as it offset my weight in the stern. 

Another "transformation" saw us folding and re-packing the raft ready for a ride, proving that the initial compact size wasn't a fluke and could be achieved by the relatively unskilled. A short ride round Loch Morlich took us to the Allt Ban where we all transformed again, ready to get some feel for the raft on moving water. Paddling out onto the loch and then round to the beach cafe, we all chilled out (as much as was possible) with a drink and an ice cream, fielding questions on the raft and bikes from many of the sun-worshippers.

Paddling back across the loch to the start point, we packed up and had a relaxed ride down to Aviemore again. We'd not covered a massive distance in the day, but we'd certainly learnt a lot and I was already feeling there might be a place for a packraft in my life.

Sundays itinerary was to be a little different. Again, we'd not be going far, but with a ride up the Spey valley and then a paddle down, it would have the flavour of a true expedition. Andy and Rob took us round some fascinating sections of singletrack, mostly in the woods, of which I'd often seen an end of and wondered how and where they went. That kept us busy all morning until it was time to visit the nursery and cake shop at Inshriach. 

After cake, coffee and lunch (in that order), it was but another short ride down to the riverside and a small shingle beach where we once again set up the rafts and packed on the bikes. 

Having previously travelled through this section on a kayak, I knew that there was the potential for a couple of obstacles, so I was pleased when Andy and Rob took us through observation and avoidance techniques, highlighting just how dangerous this could be. Once we'd all made ourselves ready, our small floatilla headed down the Spey. At times, it was possible to just drift along, watching what the leaders were doing and positioning the rafts for a good sight-line. On a couple of occasions, we stopped to investigate obstacles and discuss how best to bypass or avoid them. Having a big bike strapped to the front of the raft certainly encourages no risk-taking!!

After what seemed like no time at all, we passed under the road bridge outside Aviemore and arrived at the wee beach beside the Old Bridge Inn. That MUST qualify as one of the best ways ever to arrive at a pub!!

In summary, a fantastic weekend. Even though it was their first attempt at running this course, Andy and Rob got it spot on. Everyone was full of smiles, we all seemed relaxed, if suitably aware of the inherent dangers in water sports. The days were about the right amount of education and enjoyment and their obvious enthusiasm for Bikerafting was somewhat contagious. 

As an activity, I'm convinced it has its place for my type of travel. A brief look at a map of Scotland shows lots of linear water features and I can already think of some great routes - some walking, some riding - which would be made possible or simpler with a packraft. 

Sometimes, you don't have to go far....

When I've been out on journeys with my bike and tent, I thought it was just off-road touring. Now, we have a whole new word for it..."Bikepacking". I have to admit, that sounds way more cool and exciting. The magazines and forums seem to be developing a taste for it and we are also seeing the emergence of new gear - particularly for load-carrying. Having thrown a few fits struggling with panniers through waste-deep heather, or those stupid stiles on the Speyside Way, it's good to see that someone is getting to grips with the problem.


One of the advantages of this kit is that many more bikes are suitable. No longer is load-carrying demanding rack mounts and a rigid bike. With this in mind, Mark has been getting his gear together and we decided it would be a good idea to do a "dry-run" somewhere local to see how it all works out. For me, I also wanted to try the Fatbike with a bit of weight on the bars and see how my new sleeping bag, mattress and stove/pan set all worked out.


Being typically 2012, we watched the planned date approaching under grey, leaden skies calculating just how wet we'd get on the way to our planned bivvy spot in the Pentlands. As it didn't seem to be drying out any, we had a last-minute change of plan, opting for what would likely be drier terrain out in East Lothian.


Saturday dawned and, miracle of miracles, it wasn't actually raining. In fact, it looked like May had decided to put in an appearance after all. I headed down to the shop to pick up Mark and discuss packing/carrying arrangements. While his Mojo certainly looked "awkward", we couldn't find a technical fault with what he'd achieved. Knowing here was no hurry, we set off and stopped at Aberlady for a drop of liquid refreshment. That was a rather pleasant start to a Saturday evening which then led on to a couple of photos and the start of what would be a very short ride round some of the coastline.  

We certainly got lucky with the weather. Beautiful blue skies and a lovely quiet bit of coastline made it feel like we were a long way from home.

It got cool as the sun set

This felt like a long way from home

I'd been all "Blue Peter" the day before, making a pot cosy. After boiling up some water, I added the pasta, did a quick re-boil and took the pot off the stove. 12 minutes later, the pasta was ready. That adds up to quite a saving in fuel cost and weight. The cosy also kept the pot warm as I was eating out of it.

Mark eating while I wait for my pasta to cook

Food consumer, the evening was spent chatting and drinking malt whisky - just for the warming effect you understand.

A lovely morning

I had a very comfy night. The Pacific Outdoor Elite sleeping mat was warm and comfy and I wasn't slipping off it, though I've bought some seam sealant to add some grip "dots". 

It was about 6.30 when the sun started warming the tent up and it got too warm for me to lie there in the sleeping bag. Mark snoozed on while I cooked and ate my breakfast. The poor soul hardly gets a lie-in these days, so it seemed such a shame to wake him :-)

It didn't take us long to re-pack everything and we set off for Falko in Gullane, the Fatbike tyres coping admirably with the sand, Mark having to push both up-and down-hill on occasion. It was a rather forlorn Mark and Colin though when we found Falko to be still closed. Not to be thwarted, we headed instead for Dobbies 2 for 1 breakfast. £6.00 for two full breakfasts, toast and tea/coffee. Now that's what adventure biking is all about!

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!

The other wheels

I've posting about my bikes and the rides I've done on them, but my time over the last couple of months has actually been spent mucking around with a 4-wheeled vehicle, my Trafic van. 


The van was purchased after a couple of family holidays when we'd overload the old Multipla with bikes, kayaks and camping gear and the stress of packing it all just started to get me down. I did a lot of research on both the van to buy and what I wanted it to be capable of. As a result, I now have a long wheelbase Renault Trafic which has had the bulkhead removed, a row of Q/R seats installed and a couple of extra windows fitted. I always wanted to be able to use it for a bit of overnight "camping" and after doing some reading I found out I'd have to insulate it - well - in order to make it warm enough and to stop the condensation from giving me an impromptu shower.


Many hours of work later, I think it's almost complete. I've added some 12v sockets in the back so I can run a power washer or charge lights and phones and a super-duper 3W floodlight just inside the rear doors so I can have a bright "work" area before and after any night rides and for illuminating an area I might actually camp in. 


With all of this effort going in, I was glad to eventually get a chance to use it "in anger" for a weekend in Speyside and on the Moray Coast. My initial impressions are very favourable. Despite leaving the cab windows a tad for some air, it is warm enough, dry enough and big enough for my plans. A full length camp bed fits easily beside a couple of bike in the back and there's enough room to manoeuvre myself around. My only bugbear so far is finding suitable places to stop overnight as there are so many signs "forbidding" overnight parking - but I'll persevere. Now I just need to decide where else I'm off to in 2012.

Playing away

As previously reported, 2011 turned into a year of chasing goals and targets. From compleating my first round of Munros, through doing my first LeJog, to getting that 10,000km of riding and walking, it seemed I was always chasing something. I'd already decided that I was going to be less number-driven in 2012 and my main objective for this year is to walk and ride in areas I've never visited before. With that in mind, when my friend Jonny was organising a birthday MTB ride, I was keen to take him up on an offer of a guided tour of his back yard. 


Setting off south for a weekend is a bit of a novelty and crossing the border even more so. With some time to spare, Al and I decided we'd take in a ride on the way down to Huddersfield to break up the journey and make the most of our time. Asking around on Singletrackworld, we got a few recommendations for a route near Ingleton. This was useful for me as I've still to really comprehend the rather arcane English Right of Way rules and all those dotted and dashed pink lines on the OS map just look too confusing. 


The route turned out to be a cracker: some decent climbs, lots of lovely rural bridleways and a track over the higher moors. The weather could have been better. Cold and damp, there was snow, ice and slush higher up and we eventually opted to shorten the route slightly as we'd not get a view of the limestone pavements under the snow anyway. Returning to the van brought another problem - it was getting darker and with glasses now liberally smeared with mud, it was a bit of "point and pray" on the last, fast descents. 

By way of contrast, the weather for Saturdays birthday ride could not have been more perfect. Brilliant blue sky, hardly a breath of wind and crisp, cold trails made for a fantastic day out, all made even better by Jonnys narrative. It was certainly beautiful and the contrast with the nearby towns and villages made it even more so. All this great riding, in amongst all that urban development. Jonny is obviously, and very rightly, proud of his neighbourhood and I'm so glad he was able to share that enthusiasm with us.

I'm now really looking forward to similar adventures as the year progresses.

No niche is TOO niche

It seems to be in the nature of man that some of us are born explorers and inventors, and the rest of us slowly take advantage of these developments. So it is with cycling. From a relatively stable environment up to the 1980's or so, there has been an explosion of ideas. Some have fallen by the wayside, some limp along as a minority interest, many make it into the big time and some are so new they've not yet had the chance to mature.


So it is with the Fatbike. Developed to deal with snow, run on sand, it's now gradually infiltrating the UK biking scene.


It's not that hard to see why. Recent severe winters have given us weeks of lying snow, making normal cycling difficult and impossible. The idea of a bike which would work - and even be fun - in this environment is hard to criticise. We are also an island nation (or 3 nations if you prefer). That means there's lots of coastline to be explored. However, the broad, low-pressure footprint of the Fatbike also has a place on many of the more commonly used trails and in more remote glens where it will more glide over bog and mud than through it like a standard "skinny" tyre.


With all of this in mind, I decided to dip my feet into the wide-tyred waters and I'm now the owner of a lovely new 9:zero:7 all the way from Anchorage, Alaska.





Build-wise, I also decided to try an Internal Gear Hub - in this case the 11-speed Shimano Alfine. This raised a couple of other technical issues. My experience with normal derailleurs in snow and ice hasn't been good, I didn't want to run any sort of chain tensioner either. Hence a very special bottom bracket.


My initial rides have ironed out a couple of problems and I'm now beginning to explore a little further with it. 


It would be nice to have some snow though......

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!

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!