Back on two wheels...

I was a cyclist long before I was a hillwalker. The reasons for that were almost entirely practical. Although I have lived my whole adult life in Scotland, I grew up near Heathrow airport on the west side of London. Suburbia was very functional, but it wasn't exactly beautiful and holidays were always about gertting away from the built up area and out into countryside. Family holidays were to places like Cornwall, and regular trips were taken to our grandparents, aunt, uncle and cousins in Dorset too. When I was fairly young I discovered that if I cycled long and hard enough, I could get myself out into some scenery at almost no cost. My first target was the lake at Virginia Water which I reached on the bike my grandpa made for me.. I must have been eleven or twelve.

My range increased massively when I got my first proper bike, a Dawes Fox. Although the frame was implausibly heavy, and it had full metal mudguards, flat pedals and five gears with little range - it allowed me to take off. More importantly it enabled me to join the church cycling club, which was run informally by a wonderful chap called Lionel who organised the rides, and helped us to maintain our bikes. It wasn't long before my 'Fox' started to look different as a result; the saddle was jacked up into a racing position, the pedals gained toe-clips, and a front-carrier for locks and food appeared between the drop handlebars, along with set of Ever Ready lights. Prune Hill, Englefield Green and Windsor Great Park were early routes, but then the North Downs became accessible, through Cobham and Effingham, opening up places like Ranmore Common. Dorking, Shere, and the White Downs. By this stage we estimated we were doing rides of up to fifty miles. 

Several tours across the country followed, staying in youth hostels and reaching the Cotswolds, Peak District, Malvwern Hills, and the Black Mountains of Wales. The big days out we did were often runs down to the sea and back; 100 miles plus days to Brighton, Bognor, or Littlehampton - which meant traversing both the North and South Downs  - both fine chalk hilly landscapes. I upgraded to an F.W. Evans Toure de Luxe, which was Reynolds 531 framed, with a wide range of gears and centre-pulled cantilever brakes! That old bike served me well until last year when the local bike shop told me that they would no longer be able to get parts for it.

I barely cycled for many years, bringing up children was a big priority - and I was also plodding my way round the Munros. However I have been out a bit more over the last couple of Summers - and this year even bought a new bike. And how times have changed in bike technology! This machine has a carbon frame, blue tooth gears, and disc brakes. It's a lovely bike. Although I a have to say that the saddle is far worse than the Maddison G11 I had in 1983!

I'll never forget being on the way back from a coast run when Lionel said, "Gavin, congratulations you are now a hundred-mile-a day man!" He had a little contraption on his wheel which counted the miles, and then later a handlebar computer which responded to a magnet clipped to a spoke going past a senson with each turn of the wheel - to calculate the miles. I didn't have even that rudimentary technology and had to trace my routes using string on the OS maps when  I got home. One year I was given a weird device that looked like a pen, which you dragged around your route on the map - and with a conversion tool for the map scale would enable you to worlk out the distance. It was a bit vague and certainly a far cry from Strava which just sits there and produces a huge harvest of stats for the ride. Distance, ascent, average speed, personal bests  - and route maps and speed charts, and more!

I was watching Strava ticking over on my phone on its handlebar mount today and was delighted when it clicked from 99.99 miles to 100! I had a delightful run from Perth to Glen Clova, Glen Prosen and Glen Doll, via Scone, Newtyle, Kirriemuir and up into 'The Angus Glens'. The vast ice-carved valleys cut deep into the high Cairngorm National Park and are spectacular, and in the hot dry May we are having absolutely boiling too. Running ahead of schedule (and not wanting to reach the Glen Clova Hotel before they were serving lunch), I had a nice detour to Glen Prosen Village, both taking in another glen and making sure I'd get to three figures! I passed the hotel and cycled up the upper part of the glen, and stopped at the Glen Doll car park from where I climbed Mayar from with my wife last week.  The strong headwind as I went up the glen was a reassuring sign that the way back would be a blast - which it was. Lunch and two pints of Coke at the hotel set me up perfectly for the long road home. Fantastic day out!

Carn Ealar & An Sgarsoch

These two bleak windswept, and rather remote Munros, lie to the South of the main Cairngorm mountain range, and are accessed from the Linn of Dee car park beyond Braemar. Parking is now £3/day there, and it's worth havnig change as the card facility wasn't working very well today.Somehow, despite countless days of walking in the Cairngorms National Park I have never been up these two before - almost certainly because of a little anxiety on my part about wading the Geldie Burn. While my wife walked across it last Summer and said it was no more than a trickle, there are plenty of reports of it becoming an impassable torrent, and the remains of the the washed-away bridge seem to confirm it's reputation!

The mountain-bikeable track west from Linn of Dee leaves the roadside by the lovely old stone bridge above the falls. It's the track I last cycled when heading in to climb Beinn Bhrotain and Monadh Mhor, although this time instead of continuing west at the White Bridge, I followed the track southwards, and only turned west once the Geldie Burn was reached. Progress was wretchedly slow as a persistently strong headwind impeded progress, happily the morning rain which had been forecast didn't offer much more than the feintest of drizzle.

The Linn of Dee carpark was incredibly busy - but most people must have been taking the Lairig Ghru track northwards, as the more southern tracks were very quiet. There were quite a few mountain bikes at Geldie Lodge, including E-bikes, (cheating!!) which I hadn't seen in the hills before.

Once the river was successfully forded, I dumped the bike in the ruins of the lodge and followed the track westwards. It climbs gently before dropping down to a boggy river where it ends. I picked my way towards the summit through the peat hags and stumbled upon a path again about half way up. Carl Ealar's summit is flat, bald and was incredibly windy!

An obvious line of descent and a feitn track indicate a sensible line of attack on the long slog up An Sgarsoch's western flanks. Again, paths appear and vanish, and when the summit plateau is reached, it is crowned by a momumental cairn!

There are several ways off the hill. I went North, then west, skirting the minor top of Sgarsoch Beag, before instersecting the approach path and returning to the bike at Geldie Lodge. If the headwind in the mornign had been tough - it turned into a very helpful wind-assisted exit from the hills in the afternoon; back along the buldozed track to Linn of Dee via the White Bridge.

It was great to explore some new areas today - but they are not the most exciting hills. The best thing about them was not seeing anyone much past Geldie Lodge, and having two Munros all to myself, with a real feeling of  remoteness and isolation. Despite the 26miles of walking and cycling, I managed to get home by 5:30 - not a bad day out!

Highland Bike Extravaganza

Despite various aches and pains I'm delighted that I have finally managed to pull off an epic bike ride I have wanted to do for years. The big Perthshire round of Perth - Loch Tay - Loch Earn - Perth has been tantalisingly out of reach for a long time, but yesterday I completed it.

The first 25 or so miles were fun, as I was in the company of a fellow rider - one of my neighbours, who was on his own epic run from Perth to Inverness (no less!). We got off to a later than planned start, because his daughter who was off Munro-bagging for the day nicked his lunch and water bottles! Nevertheless we hit the cycle path north from Perth by 8AM.

The route follows the River Tay, before curving westwards along the River Almond, then following minor roads through little villages such as Pitcairngreen, before picking up the old A9, all the way into Dunkeld. From Dunkeld, we legged it up the old cycle route up the East side of the Tay, which is fast - despite being a little close to the A9 at times. At Ballinluig we went West, and round to Grandtully, where he went North on the Pitlochry route, and I pressed westwards towards Aberfeldy.

Grandtully to Kenmore, at the head of Loch Tay, is a fantastic run - albeit into a constant Southwesterly wind. Most people who have been to these parts know the fast A-road that skirts the south banks of the River Tay. The cycle route follows tiny unclassified back-roads on the north side of the river, through Dull, Weem and bypassing Aberfeldy, before dropping into the back of Kenmore. At Kenmore I enjoyed a rest, a feed and refilled my water bottles, before pressing on, over the old bridge, through the village square past the hotel - and round to the South Lock Tay Road.

Kenmore to Killin is perhaps the most scenic bike ride I have ever done - it is simply exhilarating despite battling the ongoing southwesterly wind. Truth be told, I didn't mind the headwind at this point, because it meant that the last leg of my long day would be wind-assisted when I turned for home! As the road heads away from Kenmore, and climbs above the dark waters of the loch, the views across to the 'Lawers Group' of Munros are really memorable. As I've climbed all of these and know them quite well, I could chart my progress along the loch in relation to the peaks opposite. Meall Greigh and Meall Garbh are the least distinct - but the sharp tooth of An Stuc (where I was once lashed with hailstones that felt as if they would take the skin from my face!) is as unmistakable as the high point of Ben Lawers itself. Meall nan Tarmachan, is next, with its pointy peak and charming ridge, before the hills at Killin.

Many years ago STV decided to re-run old episodes of Weir's Way in the wee small hours of the night. I loved sitting up watching these, and have visited so many of the places that Tom Weir explored. One of the first shows I saw was about Loch Tay, and he called in with the old Horn Carver who worked on the North side of the loch. Long gone now, he was still there carving when I first followed Tom Weir's advice and explored the Loch Tay hills. Cycling through them, again was both stunning and nostalgic!

At Killin, the Falls of Dochart had drawn a huge crowd - people were all over it. We're not long into the easing of Covid-19 lockdown, and a sunny weekend meant that the cities had emptied into the Highlands. A small amount of main road work is required before the cycle path to Lochearn head turns off the A827 and onto the old railway line. The trackbed isn't too bad for cycling on, and climbs steadily up a couple of hundred metres of ascent, before the blue National Cycle Route Signs (which had been my company all day), turned me left into the forest. I have to say I was really disappointed here as there was no indication that the track would only be suitable for mountain bikes. I managed to get up the tortuous woodland path to the head of Glen Ogle, but really should have been on the road - this "cycle route" was really an MTB trail, and should have been marked as such.

When I met the road at the top of Glen Ogle, I decided not to follow the old railway line down the other side to Lochearnhead, I had had more than enough of sub-standard surfaces by that point - and elected to use the A-road to descend. And what an amazing descent that is! The road plunges down the mountains, with the old railway viaducts to the right and the mighty bulk of Ben Vorlich ahead - it has to be one of the most wonderful downhill runs in this part of Scotland. Driving Glen Ogle is not bad, but it pales into insignificance with the thrill of cycling it. Cycling through a landscape doesn't just make you feel connected to it (every foot of ascent has been hard earned!), but allows you to observe it, to hear it, and smell it in a way that the car does not. All too soon, I was zooming through Lochearnhead, with oodles of momentum, and turning left onto the south Loch Earn road.

As I nudged my heavy, elderly, comfortable - and much loved F.W. Evans Tourer de Luxe, round the corner into the easterly run home, I could feel the wind at my back for the first time in the day - and clicked up a couple of gears. I flew along to Ardvorlich where I got snarled up in an incredible deluge of cars, people, walkers, campers, fishermen, campervans, all vying for lochside parking. Progress was repeatedly impeded by the volume of traffic, the insane parking, and the difficulties of negotiating passing places. I was also very sad to see the amount of litter, damage to the shoreline and mess left all along this beauty spot - which is supposed to be in the Loch Lomond National Park controlled camping zone..... hmmm. It doesn't seem to be working.

St Fillans to Comrie is a lovely fast, flat run, and I opted to duck away from the A-85, and use the backroad as much as possible, which I did again from Comrie to Crieff. The Crieff to Perth run, via the Gloagburn Farm road is a fast, undulating road, on which I toiled. 100miles is the longest ride I have done in many years, and by this stage everything was starting to hurt - not least my right ankle which I sprained badly last year, Running into the back of Perth through 'Noah's' and the western edge - I was home by 4-ish.

My neighbour, who was doing a far longer run than me, was by that stage heroically battling Slochd summit - before his triumphant run into Inverness.

For me, it was the fulfilment of three long-standing ambitions. I had wanted to do this big-round of Perthshire lochs, mountains and rivers. Secondly I had wanted to see if I could do a 100miler again. Thirdly I managed to complete my 1000Km cycle challenge that I was doing for the International Justice Mission. A truly memorable day!

 

Bike Blog: Pitlochry & Rannoch Station

The lanes of Perthshire offer the cyclist endless possibilities for exploration, exhilaration, and of course exercise! My usual cycle routes in and around Perth were put to one side on Saturday, I put the bike up on the car roof, and drove to Pitlochry - to attempt I ride I have wanted to do for many years. I am not a competitive 'event ' cyclist, but my friends of that ilk have enthused about the route of the Etape Caledonia for so long, that I thought I should explore some of that territory; albeit at my leisurely trundling pace.

I began at the Bridge of Garry car park, at the start of the B8019, which leaves the noise of the busy A9, and heads westwards into ever remoter landscapes. I followed this twisting, undulating road for almost 35m, past The Queen's View and Loch Tummel, through Kinoch Rannoch, along the length of the north shore of Loch Rannoch, and finally the last five miles of dead-end road which lead to the remote Rannoch Station. It's a wonderful road, which early on Saturday, was virtually traffic free. The road surface is pretty good for most of the long miles, and the views extravagantly wonderful, with sun glistening on the surface of the lochs, and mountains like Schiehallion and the far peaks of Glen Coe to savour on the journey.

Though cycling on my own, I actually laughed out loud as I turned the corner into the little village of Kinloch Rannoch and saw the post office on the left. In an instant, I remembered going in there to check my e-mail in the internet cafe (remember those?). I had my sons with me when they were about five and three years old. I can still remember looking up from my PC to see my then two-year old son standing in the doorway of the shop facing out towards the street. His trousers and pants were round his ankles and he was peeing voluminously out of the shop and onto the pavement! Happy Days...

There's now a great little cafe at Rannoch station, which seems to reliably open (not Fridays!). As the miles began to take their toll, I was lured by the thought of a good breakfast on the platform. The big bacon and egg roll didn't disappoint, although the coffee was rather weak.

I am caught between envy of people with fancy modern lightweight bikes, and loyalty to trusty old tourer. It was made by FW Evans, way back in the 1980s, and has served me well for many years and over thousands of miles. If my old bike had an anthem it might well be Saxon's seminal heavy rock anthem, "Wheels of Steel". With the additional weight of a front carrier (I needed a warm layer and lots of fluid), it really felt heavy and in need of an upgrade. On the other, it is a fabulously robust machine that doesn't go wrong, isn't too slow, and is as comfortable as an armchair. Sober reflection also reveals that trimming ounces from the weight of my bike is perhaps to miss the point when pounds could happily be trimmed from the rider...

I realised as I sat on the platform of the West Highland Railway, that I had started my ride right by the Perth-Inverness Highland Main Line, and had cycled to this other railway line. Is is strange that it is quicker to cycle between these two stations than take the train, which would take an enormous trip via Dunkeld, Perth, Strling, Glasgow, Loch Lomond, Crianlarich, Tyndrum and Bridge of Orchy! Since they were so unceremoniously 'Beeching-ed', half a century ago, the Scottish railway system has been not just hacked back, but completely divided too. There are no East-West connections North of the central belt (unless you count Perth-Dundee) at all.

 

Cycling away from the tranquillity of Rannoch Station, I noticed a cheery "Welcome to Perth and Kinross" signpost in the foreground; and the foreboding sight of Schiehallion in the distance. After fives miles, I turned right, and ran along the south side of Loch Rannoch, on a charming and barely used road. While there were very few cars driving around, there were a remarkable number of informal campsites springing up along the water's edge. Some of these looked very peaceful and orderly. On others, there were empty cans strewn everywhere, countless fires and barbecues, and in one case broken glass scattered around. One campsite even had a PA system with which the people blasted dubious old disco music at the great mountains, who in turn glowered back at them with curmudgeonly disapproval.

Cycling past the Carie Estate, before reaching Kinloch Rannoch, I spotted a holiday house we rented one summer, not long after our daughter had been born. It was entertaining to think of them back in those days, playing in the stream by the cottage, or playing cricket in the field. It was also slightly alarming to think how few hours seem to have passed since those long ago days; yet as I went past, my older son was out with his girlfriend, and the younger being pushed around Loch Leven (in Fife) in a wheelbarrow in a sponsored charity event! When we holidayed there, the owner seemed like a lovely lady. Her husband seemed like quite an eccentric fellow though. It was only when I got back and did some googling, that I realised that he was Lord Moncton of Brenchley - a character who could certainly strain any working definition of 'eccentricity' to its absolute limits. When we were there he was working on the sodoku puzzles he devised for the national press; and with which he had re-built his fortune. He's lost his first millions and mansion on a bet that,a puzzle he had invented was 'impossible to solve.' 

After by-passing Kinloch Rannoch to the South, the only major climb of the day was undertaken; up the Schiehallion Road to Foss. By this stage I had managed to get myself embroiled in a cycling event, which may have been a triathalon. They hadn't closed the road for the event, so I didn't see why I shouldn't keep cycling, despite being the only rider without a number. With wearying legs, but a pack of cyclists on my tail, I  attacked the big climb; getting to the top without any further sign of them. However, if they were also going to swim a couple of miles, and run a marathon, I think they can be excused their failure to catch me up. After the Schiehallion Road, I turned left (diverting from the Etape route which goes southwards towards Weem and on to Aberfeldy), and followed the scenic route along the South side Loch Tummel. This is a lovely little unclassified road, with great views, and virtally no traffic at all. After the Claunie Dam at the end of Loch Tummel, the road winds around Loch Faskally. The river is crossed at the south side of Pitlochry, and the main road joined opposite the town's distinctive distillery. A quick pedal through Pitlochry town centre on and on the last three miles to the Bridge of Garry car park completed a wonderful ride.

A good 80miles, with over 3,500 metres of ascent makes this a good challenge for a lardy middle aged rider like me! I am gradually extending my distances again, and this is the longest I've done for a couple of years.

The scenery, the wildlife, the open road, the speed, the challenge; what's not to like about cycling in Scotland?

The "Tour de Tay"!

Anyone who lives in Perth, Dundee (or intervening points), who owns a bike should have a go at this! The "Tour de Tay", is a well known circuit to local cyclists, who have been recommending it to me for years. Today I finally had a crack at it, and it really is a splendid ride.

This ride is a circuit of the tidal Tay estuary, a loop with the Tay Road Bridge in Dundee at one end, and The Queen's Bridge over the Tay in Perth at the other. The two cities are connected by a series of marked cycle routes for the entire length of the Northern leg through Perthshire and Dundee City, and for about half the Southern leg through Fife.

I had a dilemma about whether to do the circuit clockwise or anti-clockwise. I was starting and ending the route in Perth and knew that (i) the hardest climb on the route was around Kinnoull Hill near Perth on the southern leg; (ii) a strong Westerly wind was blowing all day; (iii) the Southern leg was more undulating and forested, whereas the Northern route was very wind exposed. Putting all this together I elected to go anti-clockwise.

Attacking the Tour de Tay anticlockwise from Perth necessitates a big climb to start proceedings. Coming from the East of the city, I worked my way up steep Manse road, through the new housing, before joining the official cycle route over the Jubilee, past Balthayock and down to Glencarse. Here the A90 is crossed and the 'B' road to Dundee via Errol picked up. I was blown along this road at a rate of knots by a delicious tail wind that would become a menacing headwind on the return journey.

The massive redevelopment of Dundee's waterfront, means that the cycle route to the Tay Bridge is a bit convoluted, but it is reasonably well marked, Bizarrely, cyclists are required to take a lift up onto the Tay Bridge, where they are greeted with a very strange surface to cycle on. It seems to be a series of wooden boards coated with tar, which creak and rattle as you cycle over them!

Once off the bridge, I turned to face the wind, and realised that getting back to Perth would take some concerted effort. While in terms of raw speed, this was obviously bad - there is a plus side. Last week I was informed that I am overweight, and that my cholesterol is too high. Coupled with my family history of cardiac related issues, I was told it was time to take some action. A headwind then is my friend - akin to turning up the resistance on an exercise bike! I tried to tell myself this, but of course in truth I was dreading the thought of the ascents in Fife being into the wind! The worst of this was on the hard climb from the delightfully named Bottomcraig up to Hazelton Walls, after which the terrain became much easier. Cholesterol issues or not, such effort required some chocolate!

The cycle routes are all well marked on this ride, and take the rider from Dundee all the way to Newburgh, where the waymarked route dives South towards Auchtermuchty. Along the South side of the Tay the views beyond Perth to the snow-capped high mountains are stunning. Ben Vorlich to the west and Bheinn a Ghlo to the North were especially impressive. Road-wise, the route back to Perth from here is pretty grim, its fast, busy roads with little scope for admiring the lovely views. The Baiglie Straight, leads into Bridge of Earn, which in turn leads into Perth over a final climb, before dropping into the town via the Edinburgh Road.

54 miles in 4hrs isn't a fast run - but it's a lovely route!