many rivers to cross

Mary, feeling more confident about riding off-road on her new bike, suggested a cycle over the Lammermuirs. I did wonder if this was a good idea, as it was rougher ground than we'd previously covered and considerably more remote if we had an accident or mechanical. However we set off, late as usual, and drove to the car park near Hopes Resevoir. The rain was battering off the windows as we got there. We (nervously) laughed this off saying it was really good luck as we had just missed the worst weather of the afternoon. Although there was a mild drizzle to start with happily it didn't rain any further and we only had a stiff blast of headwind to contend with for the first few miles which are all up hill and with some considerable gradients. At least it would be fun on the return journey.

matching outfit and heather
see how low the water is: this reservoir normally doesn't have a bank

The cycling starts medium hard - a mile up to the reservoir, then levels off a bit for mile 2, before doing 2 miles of steep up hill. I managed to do it clean - only just, but Mary was obliged to walk and push for long sections. It is quite a sustained climb. The gradient is near to max possible; if you get out the saddle there is a tendency for the back wheel to slip on the loose gravel. If you stay in the saddle the front wheel starts to lift off the ground. You have to hover just off the saddle with your weight back and choose the line of firmest ground. Then keep at it for 16 minutes. Any thoughts I'd get more of a workout running rather than cycling were dispelled. I parked my bike at the level off point and ran back to offer to push Mary's bike. She was having none of that and said she would manage fine herself! Quite right!

The going gets easier, then without much of a level off you turn a corner, are given a view down to the Eildons and a long sweeping downhill heading towards the A68. This is where the bikes are a real boon. It is pleasant to run downhill though still hard work. On a bike you can pedal but don't have to, and we zoomed down this section as fast as we dared. Neither of us do much off-road so it is a dangerous game working out what is safe, how fast you can go, before the realisation that you are now going too fast and the bike starts to go out of control. And that if you suddenly brake on that loose ground you will make it worse. I had only a small taste of this, on that very first downhill when, still full of coffee from earlier, I saw a small bump and shouted to M that I was going to get some air. The bump was larger than it looked and I got quite a bit more air than I had anticipated. I didn't come off but I spent the rest of the day being a bit more cautious. Too cold a day for roadside bike/human repairs.

The one downside of bikes vs running, is taking photos. I can cycle on roads slowly with the camera held in my hand but it is not comfortable. Off road and it lives in my back pack arm strap pocket. Which means fewer pics. So I didn't take any of the tarmac section on the south of the circuit. It was such a blast to come off the trails and on to the tarmac road that goes along to Carfraemill. This is the least enjoyable part of the circuit when running, but was one of the most delightful on the bikes. Especially with the wind to ours backs; cruising along at 20mph without much effort, on roads - so smooooooth after the gravelly trails - on lovely swooping traffic free roads winding through the sheepfarm countryside. Total joy!

We had had a debate about stopping at Carfraemill for a(nother) coffee and cake. It is about the 9 mile mark which we thought was too early when biking. However the very blowy weather up the hills made the journey seem far more intense than anticipated so we thought a break wasn't a bad idea. But then M realised she didn't have the key to her padlock, so we just carried on.

Again the next section of about a mile along the A697 seems unpleasant running - the cars whiz by and there is no pavement. However on a bike it passes quicker and you at least feel you have a right to be there. It doesn't feel as exposed. Still happy to turn off up the lane to the farm at Longcroft.

Pretty soon we were back off the tarmac and back on dirt trails with the surrounding hills ablaze with yellow and golden bracken. Many rabbits and sheep and grouse and buzzards.

Next; I was remembering the river crossings. I knew there were at least 2. They had been a bit of a worry as it's hard to get across with dry feet when running. There are a couple of places you can jump but with a bike you are forced to ride across. Mary and I have a history with bike fords. There was one in the Lakes and the local couple ahead gave little warning and only said keep straight and don't brake. Mary was behind me, and when I heard her stop and put a foot down into the shallow stream I turned round to scold her. My front wheel slipped on the green concrete, slippier than a pocketful of pudding, and I went down, getting a proper dooking.

So I was pretty cautious about this. I would stop and have a look at the best line (fewest large obstacles, shallowest water.) Then ride across and wait for Mary. It looks a dawdle, and indeed it is when you get it right. But it is also a dawdle to get it wrong and spend the rest of the day with a wet foot, or worse. Mary managed the first 3 crossings perfectly. It has to be done at the right speed: too fast and you throw up so much water you might as well just have run across pushing your bike. Too slow and you don't have the impetus to get over any submerged rocks and you stall.

Glenburnie

photo Mary

Now this - the fourth crossing, looks so innocuous it hardly seems worth bothering with. Which was what Mary thought and just carried on through without doing any prep. And stopped before the other side due to submerged slipperyness. And put a foot down up to her ankle in water. Oops. She was very good about not complaining then, or later.

I got up the first bit of this but stalled about the sheep.

There is a small wooden cabin just here. I think it is called Bunny's Bothy. A recent addition seems to be a chemical toilet out the back which seems unnecessary. It is locked, which again seems unnecessary. It marks the parting of the ways. Last few times we have opted for this easier shorter route with just a steep climb away from the stream. If you don't cross the stream but carry on up to the right at the junction you can eventually, after a long climb, come to a spot where you head off right and find Tony the WW2 pilot who lost his life crashing here in 1941. Blog here.

And my how this long road is easier on a bike. On foot it goes on and on. On a bike, well I stopped for a photo and by the time I caught up with Mary and got ahead for a photo looking in the opposite direction, we were nearly at the end where it meets the Turbine Road. Not quite out of the woods though, I was remembering the long drop down to the stream where there is another log cabin bothy and the hideous steep climb back up from that. We were both tired now. Not so much from the arduous up-hill cycling but more the tension of holding your stance while rattling downhill combined with the exposure to the elements. If you were just to stand outside on a cold day in the wind for three hours you'd be well ready to get inside. I had a buff on my head and never felt the inclination to remove it. I had also put on my medium gloves under my cycle mitts. 

The descent wasn't too bad. You had to keep your hands off the front brake otherwise the front wheel would go sideways in the loose dirt, and we both took it cautiously. Also we chose to use the stepping stones at the 2 river crossings rather than cycle them. No point in snatching defeat and all that. Then choose a nice low gear and see how far up the hill you can get before the back wheel skips and the front lifts off the ground. I got here (above) and waited while Mary walked up pushing her bike. Once it got less steep we got back on (not easy) and did the rest in the saddle. It was nice knowing the worst was behind us and soon we would have about 3~4 miles of downhill with the wind behind.

The big downhill before the reservoir was spectacular. A combination of good and not so good ground that would encourage you to take your fingers off the brakes then feel yourself plummeting downwards only to turn a corner and see a large scoop and lots of loose gravel, which you had to fly over without slamming on brakes. Then it would straighten out again and the wind would whip the tears from your eyes. All the thrills of a roller coaster but if you got it wrong, would smash your face in. I began to see why folk go biking over running. It makes the downhills thrilling and a good deal easier. The adrenaline makes you forget the weariness and aches. And we were lucky. No falls, dookings or mechanicals. 

Mary made a mistake I nearly made myself. We were both buzzing returning downhill, back to the reservoir. Just before, there is a lovely downhill swoop followed by a small burn trickling across the track. I only just slowed in time and went through at walking pace. Mary was still in downhill mode and I nearly missed the photo as she bombed through at running pace, getting a good soaking for her efforts. Easily done.

Again the last stretch was lovely easy cycling with the wind behind us. Perfect way to finish off what was only just over 22 miles but took 3.5 hrs and due to the cold and wind felt a lot more serious than that. The weather could have gone either way. As it was it did roughly what the forecast said, and stayed fair. It could easily have settled into a long rainy day and been quite a slog. So I think we got lucky. It was so much fun I nearly didn't notice there was nothing in the way of butterfly action. (A singular red, Admiral or Peacock, spotted but not stopped for.) Maybe I'll get through the winter after all. Top marks to Mary for being bold on the bike (but not daft) and being (mostly!) uncomplaining throughout. Great fun.

Mary's blog of the weekend here

22miles

much steepness