I was in, it cost £20 which seemed a bit dubious given that this could make it an 'official' event but I didn't care what the legal niceties were, I just saw it as good value for 150miles of entertainment..... The only minor difficulty was the fact that I was still recovering from the Highland Trail with knees still a bit sore and various other minor ailments. Oh well it should be fairly relaxed so no bother right?
Closer route homework revealed a rather scary climbing total (5500m which is quite a lot more than any bit of the HT but typical of the borders where you cross many valleys) but generally easy going. That said my prep was casual. The only good news was a couple of weeks of dry weather before the start which should make for dry trails - a fine antidote to the HT schleppathon. Slightly less promising was the weather forecast for the weekend which looked like easterlies and cold rain.
In the event the Saturday of the ride was sunny if cool as I headed to the start. The social kicked off immediately chatting to Marcus and others, inevitably, about the Highland Trail. Alastair Maclean was also there. I'd last seen him in Suileg Bothy so it was good to catch up with one of the many people I rode with in May. I have to say that we milked it a bit, talking about the Highland Trail surrounded by a group of folk in awe of our achievements (OK I exaggerate) but I did feel absurdly pleased to get the attention. There was much chat about whether to push through the whole route or bivvy. In a fit of daring I'd only packed my newly acquired event bivvy bag as shelter, although as usual I'd chucked the stove in as well. I knew I could do the route in a oner but the thought of riding back through Edinburgh at 3am did not appeal, particularly on the last section through Niddrie and Leith. The threat of getting mugged or chibbed not something I felt was part of the bikepacking challenge.
The start itself was on the beach, something that the various fat bikers were smug about. At 8am prompt we were off in a big procession along the prom and then the road to musselburgh to the doubtless displeasure of the various motorists on the road that morning. We then headed roughly south east following a pretty convoluted route but actually on trails I knew very well from my Edinburgh years. It did make for tricky nav however. I'm still a bit green at following a GPX track and inevitably, when the group got spread out, I started making errors. Mind you one section seemed to follow a river and it was only another guy who told me the gpx was wrong and to follow him that kept me right.
Eventually we climbed away from the lowlands of East Lothian and up into the Lammermuir hills on another track I knew well. This crosses a big moor and then the the route turns off along various other estate tracks, passed Bunnies Bothy and down a long long valley to the A697.
A brief stint on this and then it was the Southern Upland Way. Given my experience on the western bit of this in April I was a bit dubious but this section is all good. Its a mix of woodland, farmland and short moor sections all the way to Melrose. I was a bit concerned when I saw Markus heading back towards me only for him to shamefacedly admit that he'd gone wrong.
"But its your route" says I.
"I know but I haven't done this bit before"....
Hmm, oh well maybe my nav isn't so bad after all.
Melrose saw the first real opportunity for food. Myself, Markus, David and the guy who had kept me on route earlier sat in the sun eating lunch courtesy of the Co-op.
More of the same followed on some new trails and then it was the long climb from the tweed valley up onto the three Brethern to rejoin the SUW. I've only ever come down this so I knew what to expect. My pace to this point had been on the high side of steady so I started to feel it a bit at this point. That said I got up the whole lot thanks to my ultra low granny gear (20-34).
The next section is the longest moor crossing of the lot. Fortuitously we had a stiff tailwind and the trails were dry. It was starting to cloud over however, the rain on its way. I know this section well so settled down to a steady rhythm, only spoiled by a puncture, caused by a thorn picked up earlier. I switched the tube but in a fit of keen-ness also fixed the hole to keep a spare tube. The route has several ups and downs, finally clattering down a rough track to Traquair.
Another new trail followed the Quair water up to Glenshiel Banks. Thereafter was the only significant hike-a-bike on the route, straight up the head of the valley to the old ROW from Peebles to St Marys Loch. A right turn on this and a last climb saw me at the top of one of my favourite descents along the cross borders drove road to Peebles. Its a blast with a few rough bits but mainly a smooth, fast grassy trail with some fabulous jumps. Entering Peebles I decided to get food before the next section round the Glentress trail centre. This took the form of fish and chips but a quick search of my bags indicated I could do with some more food for the rest of the route, given that I'd not be passing any more shops - Sainsburys provided.
The next section involved climbing out of Peebles into Glentress Forest, up the red climb and then a mash up of the red and blue descents back to the car park. To be quite honest I couldn't be arsed with any of this. I knew that Markus was trying to show case the good riding in the Borders and the seven stanes trail centers are a big part of this so fair play. But I was now feeling pretty knackered and the endless switch backs up, and the humps, bumps, jumps and berms on the way down were nothing but an embuggerance. Fortunately the trail centre warriors were pretty much done for the day so at least I had the place to myself. The people I had been riding with all seemed to have disappeared, not stopping in Peebles for food it seemed. Just as well as I was like a sack of spuds balanced on the seat as I flopped down the trails.
Exiting onto the main road, I couldn't resist the Glentress Hotel. I ordered a latte and crisps and collapsed in a nice armchair. At a table nearby I noticed a gang of Trail Center heroes eating dinner, drinking and telling lies to each other. I felt so removed from this (apparently main stream) part of mountainbiking that I was almost doing another sport entirely. I got some funny looks from them as I departed, in lycra not baggies, attaching my light to my lid.
On the roll along the railway path back to Peebles I felt the beginnings of recovery so cruised through the town without stopping again. Hmm, I felt a few spots of rain as I headed out along the old drove road route to West Linton. This was another new one for me, although I had had a small amount of involvement in its creation in my Paths for All days several years before. More nice riding, more nice trails but a stiff, cold breeze and light dreich was following me.
Entering Cloich Forest I recalled that this was the venue for one of the earliest ever mountain bike races in the UK, covered in the first edition of 'Mountain bike Action' magazine and the first time I'd heard of the town of Peebles. Fuck knows where the race went as all I could see was sitka spruce trees and big tracks. I rode through here in the '90s and got shouted at by a farmer on the south side. Oh blessed land reform.
It was dreiching in earnest now and getting dark. I was also starting to feel tired so a bivvy was in order. Conscious of my lack of tent I was after shelter. An old farm cottage looked promising but was firmly boarded up and short of a bit of B&E off limits. I was also leaving the forest so it was now or never. A final clump of sitka came to the rescue. I dragged my bike up into them and sure enough under the dense network of branches it was dry. Out came the bivvy bag, shove in sleeping bag, inflate mat, err.... now what. Strip off (brrrr) into base layer and into bag. All dry. Final snack then zip up and snuggle in.
I wasn't feeling hugely comfortable and lay awake for quite a while. Eventually I nodded off but woke at 3am, thanks to my bladder calling. Guess that's my nights sleep then. Trying for more seemed pointless and it looked like the rain was getting heavier so best exit now whilst I'm dry. Further gyrations to get dressed then out, cook porridge and make tea, eat, pack up, get going. Hmm pretty quick so I see why the ultralight fast brigade use this set up.
A short moor crossing followed and further woods but it was all getting quite damp. Onwards to West Linton was flatish but I knew that it would be a big old climb up the Pentlands. Along to Carlops first on a bit of the deserted A902 more trail and back road and then the start at nine mile burn. I'd last done this climb in about 1990-something but I'd forgotten how big it was and feeling somewhat wabbit at this early hour, I couldn't be bothered even trying to ride it. So I pushed and pushed into the mist and drizzle, reflecting that this was the last big climb of the route and Embra beckoned.
I enjoyed the Pentlands traverse. This was a regular biking destination when I was at Uni here. There are lots of good trails but it was always a case of keeping one step ahead of the Ranger service who were (in)famously anti mountain biking and the hill walkers, who thought we were the spawn of satan...
There was a bunch of tents just before the descent to Bavelaw so I crept passed sharpish and bombed down to the castle, the trail showing signs of being much improved since I was last here. Next it was the great route back over into Loganlee, also much upgraded, past the reservoirs and the (really) final climb up and over to Currie.
More memories - the Water of Leith Walkway. If you are new to this area you'd hardly believe that for many years cycling was banned on this flat, wide old railway path. Not that we cared and rode along it anyway. Now its an official cycleway although still unsurfaced. It was raining in earnest now but I was at the point where I didn't care with only a few miles to go and plenty of gear on. The route spat us out into the town center and even went down the Royal Mile. My earlier propensity at fixing the puncture paid off as I became aware that my back tyre was going flat again, thanks to a thorn picked up on the water of Leith. I sat in a bus shelter on the Royal Mile fixing it and wondering why there was a string of women walking up the street. Turns out it was the 'Moonwalk' cancer charity thing. They ignored me so I ignored them.
More navigational faffing ensued trying to follow the route past Arthur's Seat to Duddingston, finally hitting the cycleway back to portobelly. I got back at 8.30 am 24 and a half hours after leaving. I texted 'race control' to say I was done and got a cheery message back.
Suddenly a van door opened beside me and there was Markus who'd pushed through and been back a few hours. First back was a guy on a single speed who'd made last orders at the pub - time 15 1/2 hours. A few others had followed including Alastair who'd gone straight home. I chatted with Markus who'd kindly made me coffee then another couple of blokes turned up and soon after the cafe opened so there we sat eating bacon rolls, drinking tea and talking about the route which we all agreed was a good 'un barring a few minor details. Eventually I said cheerio and headed back to the car. There was to be a pub meet up that night but I knew that I'd be sleeping then so headed home quite pleased with myself.
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