Thereafter it got worse with every single day seeing torrential rain. I managed to avoid it on May bank holiday weekend by heading north and west to the Isle of Skye and much sunshine. Not what you would expect as its usually worse here and odder still were the dry trails. This gave a hint of the strange weather system that would dominate the country all summer.
For reasons that even Meteorologists were confused by, a massive high pressure was sat to the northwest of the UK, centered on Iceland, and showing no signs of moving. Whilst England, Wales and Southern Scotland got day after day of rain, this high pressure was baking the north west of Scotland. By stunning coincidence I'd planned a bike tour in Iceland and got roasted; whilst the UK drowned under more and more rain. The high had crept into Southern Scotland a couple of weeks before this trip. By chance we were off to Glencoe during this dry spell and I used it to test my gear out. I pedaled up from home, camping in a roasting hot campsite north of Strathyre, then got thoroughly sun-burned following the West Highland Way to Glencoe. We ended up swimming in the river coe by the campsite!
This high pressure seemed to be covering pretty much everything north and west of the Great Glen and showed no sign of moving. Typically this fact wasn't advertised as it would have heralded the best tourist season the north-west had seen for a generation but Visit Scotland, in characteristic style, totally failed to cash in on this rare event.
I did, but more by good luck than good management. After getting colossally lucky in Skye and Iceland, I pushed it further by heading up to Applecross for a weekend in July. I was meeting a couple of pals up there who were on motorbikes. My plan was to do the Bealach na Bar sportive route on the road bike one day and then bag a few trails on the fat bike the next. Thereafter I would be heading for Aviemore for some more fat biking as well as helping my mate swap the chassis on his land rover.
I got up to Loch Carron early doors and was riding by 9.30. There isn't much to report on the ride, its around 85 miles and hilly including the famous Applecross road, as well as many other climbs round the peninsular to Shieldaig and on to Torridon. The road bike has a 53/39 chainset and it took a bit of heaving to get it up the steep bit of the main climb. Thereafter it was just a case of getting your head down and pedaling. One of the reasons my love affair with road bikes is on the wane as its impossible to ride them slowly and take in the views. Five hours and 20 minutes later I was back at the car. I drove back over to Applecross campsite, and pitched my tent close to where my pals were staying. We chatted in the sun for a bit (no midges, that's how dry its been!) and then inevitably went to the pub for food and much beer.
The next morning I headed round Applecross bay on the beach aiming for a track that went up by the Applecross River. I was on a hot tip from Bruce Mathieson AKA Coastkid, him of fat bike fame, who has posted a vid of this trail the previous year. The track climbed up the glen and then narrowed to a good made path after a few miles.
Applecross river with Skye in the background
Soon after it climbed steeply round the shoulder of a hill. This would be my first real test of techy rock riding on the Mukluk (apart from what I'd done on the beach of course!) and it passed with flying colours, the big tyres gripping limitlessly and rolling over rocks that would have fired a normal tyre out from underneath you. Thereafter the trail was more straightforward climbing steadily to a junction with another possible route over a higher pass to the coast road. It looked a lot less well defined than the one I was on so I figured I'd stick with the lower level route which would also cut down the road riding. It was absolutely bone dry.
Torridon hills from near the end of the trail
The trail remained a peach right out to the road and the descent was ace. I had a go at a short cut on another path but this was non-existent on the ground after a promising start. So instead I cruised round the road, only pausing to check out a beach with some nice dunes.
Then it was back to the campsite for more chat, more good food and beer. The next morning I had a leisurely drive to Aviemore and spent the rest of the day and the next helping Rob with his chassis change. Interestingly as soon as I passed over the great glen the weather changed dramatically and became much damper. Rob took some time off from his project to check out a route in the Northern Corries (of the Cairngorms that is) on the fat bikes. It was actually a nice day but rivers were up and any bit of the trail that wasn't rock (not much to be fair) was pretty muddy. We ground up the ski area access track and then cut across into Corrie an Schnechda picking any suitable line through the boulder field. We stopped for a while taking in the views then rode out on the equally entertaining path back down and round to the Cas car park.
That evening I drove home back to work and rain, rain, rain.
Four weeks later I was back up to Aviemore, this time on the motorbike. It was looking like another stunning weekend in the North West and the plan was to do some walking and boating. That's right, we were going pack rafting, something that Rob and Iona had been doing for a couple of years and I was keen to try. The next morning we drove up past Ullapool, turned off on the Achiltibuie road and cruised along to a suitable parking point a few miles past Stac Pollaidh.
Boats were inflated, rucksacks strapped to the front and off we went paddling up Loch Bad a Ghail in the warm sunshine. We followed this loch up to its furthest reach, jumped out, shouldered sacks and carried the boats under our arms, still inflated. A couple of hundred metres later we were back in the water in Loch Lurgainn. This was a bigger body of water and a bit choppy in the breeze. I was on a fairly steep learning curve paddling one of these things and I was keen not to fall off it! It was incredibly relaxing however and it made a change for me to be using my arms for forward motion instead of my legs.
Stac Pollaidh passed slowly on our left and then we beached just after Linneraineach. This times the boats were deflated as we had a bit of a walk ahead. This went straight up the hillside on a steep trail which was hard work with the heavy load (not actually that heavy - the boat, paddle and bouyancy aid weigh about 5kg in total) and the hot sun. Topping out revealed a stunning panorama - the wilderness of Sutherland.
We marched down the hill into this wild land, Cuil Mor just in front and Suilven in the distance. At the bottom we got the boats out and up and put into Loch an Doire Duibh. This was fairly short with a river of dubious provenance linking it to Loch Sionasgaig - a large body of water filling a wide land between us and Suilven. The river was short and not deep enough to paddle so we hopped out and carried the inflated boats for a bit before taking to the water again.
Progress is fairly slow in these things so you have to have fairly modest plans, distance wise. After a fair bit of paddling we approached a small group of islands. Eilean Mor had been Robs planned stopping point but lo and behold, someone else had beaten us to it. Not that surprising given the weather. Instead we beached just across from another small island and pitched up on an exposed shoulder of ground that would hopefully catch enough breeze to keep the midges at bay.
The breeze came and went so a bit of running around was needed setting up but we managed to cook and eat tea sat outside.
The next morning was quite breezy so we had a midge free breakfast before packing up and paddling off. Hmm the wind was in our faces and the waves on the increase. The problem being we had to cross the Loch to avoid a long paddle round its north shore. "Lean into the Waves as you paddle!" says Rob. Easy for him to say, he's into white water. After a few nervous wobbles I got into the rhythm of it and we progressed across to the south shore which was sheltered and much easier. At the end of the loch we hopped over a small sluice, paddled another wee loch and scrambled down a wide area of braided burn lines and a waterfall. Then it was one last lochan before we deflated the boats and trekked up to the road. This we stuck to back to the car. What a fun trip! The potential of packrafts, particularly in this part of Scotland, is huge. There are multiple lochs and rivers which a keen eye could thread a route through, avoiding horrible schleps across trackless rough moor. Hmm guess that's something else on the shopping list.
Our illustrious guide
Later that month I took the motorbike to the Manx Grand prix and experienced the worst weather I have ever camped in, anywhere. Fortunately my tent was a four season one so was one of a very few in Peel campsite that survived the gales and torrential rain. We ended up leaving early it was so bad....
Finally in October we got some better weather across southern and eastern Scotland. The scorching weather that had blazed across the northwest returned to a normal mix of sun, wind and rain. I actually managed a couple of great day rides in good weather during this month. One was a circuit starting in Blair Atholl going north across the Minigaig pass, over to the River Feshie, up this and across the Geldie to Glen Tilt and down back to Blair Atholl. Its a great route being around 50 miles and all off road. The trails were pretty wet but the infamous Feshie was the lowest I'd seen it....
The other was a bit of exploration north west of the Spittal of Glenshee. I was on the fat bike again as I knew there would be some off piste work on this one. I went up Glen Taitneach then scrambled up a narrow defile to a wee lochan. From here I crossed over to the Slopes of Carn an Righ and got right up to the summit thanks to an unexpected path and the short turf you tend to find about 750m which the fatty rolls across without issue.
Cairngorm panorama
Descending was harder but I eventually reached the track out of Fealar Lodge, rode this to Enochdu and then over the Cateran trail back to the Spittal.
That was it. In November the weather went pear shaped again, right to the end of the year, barring one blessed snowy weekend (So I finally got skiing in 2012!). I hope 2013 is going to be better!
