This week saw my fourth off work of the year to date and once again I was planning to head off on the bike somewhere. As usual I'd idly contemplated all of Scotland as a venue for some pedaling and bivvying, focusing on the west coast as I would be joining my parents at the end of the week at yet another of their holiday cottage trips in Dumfries and Galloway. I'd even thought of a full length tour from the north west to the south west throwing a train ride in to the start but as usual the forecast looked a bit iffy for the week so a shorter tour looked more favourable.
I finally settled on Argyle and Bute as a venue as I've not done much cycling around there (in the last 30 years that is) and it offers a unique landscape - a convoluted mix of sea lochs, freshwater lochs, hills and forests - some great wee roads and plenty of scope for some dirt / stones. I would hope to bag some of my own 'West Highland 500' route I'd plotted a few years ago but never done anything with, as well as stuff on the 'wild about Argyll' site. I had no firm plans just a knowledge of the general geography of the area, a few trails to bag and an aim to avoid main road bashing.
Saturday lunchtime saw me leaving the house on a loaded Straggler, my sights set due west.
Looking towards the Trossachs. For a change the forecasted nice day was....a nice day! I was following my usual route to Callander, actually on the GB divide route which I had only scoped when following this years 'GBDuro.' I had the place to myself despite the sunshine, even the usual weekenders not in evidence.
From Callander I was once again whizzing along the twists and turns of the Venechar cycleway before the days first proper climb up the forest drive to Aberfoyle. There was more traffic on this than there had been on the Doune to Callander road. I wish they would put an end to this as its a nuisance having to deal with traffic on a forest track. Most drivers seem to be oblivious to other trail users (as per usual) so you actually have to be pretty careful. One driver obviously thought he was Colin Macrae the speed he was going, I could only hope he lost it on one of the loose bends further down the hill and T-boned a tree!
Aberfoyle Co-op provided a late afternoon feed as I contemplated bivvy spots. It was way to early to hide out in the woods of QE Forest park and I was aware of a large amount of farmland to cross on the way to Loch Lomond but I figured I could get to the Arrochar Alps before dark o'clock and a fine site I'd scoped on my jaunt round the Loch Lomond and Trossachs Loop in May. NCN 7 used to be signed through the forest as well as the road route but Sustrans also seem to have abandoned this in their bid to avoid the countryside and anything considered to be recreational. A pity as its easy going and traffic free so definitely do this (still signed as the Rob Roy Way) rather than the tarmac alternative. I passed through Drymen and noted with amusement the number of walkers on the short section of road shared with the West Highland Way, I've nearly ridden all of this now! Much leisurely cruising followed along NCN7 to Balloch.
On the pipe bridge / former railway viaduct near Croftamie.
I'd thought to get a chippy at Balloch but everywhere looked a bit too lively for my sensitive tastes and I had plenty food on board, so cruised right on through. Up the cycleway along Loch Lomond side were many campervans and signs discouraging them. There are a few bivvy spots up here but its a winter destination, not Summer. I turned off on the Helensburgh road (which also has a parallel cycleway) and then up into Glen Fruin on the wee road to Faslane and the three lochs way.
The three lochs way was easy going on 40mm tyres and I was happy to push up the short sharp climbs along it. At some forestry works I noted a portalloo. Once again my digestive system had been playing up a bit so this was very welcome. Past here are the army hobbit huts, (locked) along with several other portaloos also locked. I noted a few back up bivvy spots which would maybe be a better plan being more exposed than my planned woodland retreat and my concerns about midge levels. In the event I got to the spot gratified it was not already occupied, dry and still (just) light. Bizarrely there were no midges. The midge forecast had predicted this but I'd assumed their Cray supercomputer midgy modeller had thrown a diode as mild, damp weather in the west = midges.... but there weren't! Its a great spot being level, dry and sheltered. Plus the nearby burn provides water and a relaxing burble for us tinnitus sufferers. Up went the tarp and in I got, 6 hrs and 85 miles of pedaling in the bag.
A pleasant evening of eating, reading and drinking followed. Sadly no trains went by (the line is about 50 m from this spot) but I figured one would wake me up the next morning. In the event I woke up at 8.30 to the inevitable sound of rain. As forecast but no more welcome for all that. I got packed up and going by which time the rain had receded to a typical West Highland drizzle. The midges had woken up to the fact that there was a late season victim on hand so it was on with the head net. No big deal as I was moving constantly and soon ready to go.
Or not, as the front tyre was flat. After some pump faffing I pulled the tube to discover a large thorn right on the crown of the tyre which had neatly penetrated the tube. I'd spent Friday evening removing the tubeless set up G-Ones and replacing them with Conti speed rides with tubes as the tubeless tyres weren't holding pressure beyond 12 hours. The irony was dripping off me. And to cap it all my puncture repair kit was conspicuous by its absence. I did have my tubeless repair kit however so you can imagine my reaction to this. Out came the thorn and in went my (single) spare tube. If I got another puncture I'd be screwed. This in mind, plans were quickly revised to get to the road and try to source a repair kit. Except the nearest habitation was Arrochar which is a very small village with zero chance of any kind of bike repair type outfit, or so I thought.
I got there at 10 to discover the garage was an automated affair and the shop puncture kit free. However the very helpful proprietor directed me to a bike workshop which actually has its own brown sign! I found it eventually and no-one was home but after phoning the number the guy who ran it told me he will speak to his neighbour to open up the shop and sort me out. So one tip-top repair kit and another tube later I was off. I repaired the other tube whilst drinking coffee from a wee shack and re-engaged plan A. Thinking about it Arrochar is actually a top bikepacking destination. It has a well stocked shop open until 10, a chippy, a coffee shack and a bike repair shop, as well as being in the middle of a lot of great routes.
After a brief tussle with my conscience I rode along the footway beside the A83 to Ardgarten. There wasn't much traffic to be fair but there were no peds on the footway so why not? Much gravelling followed up Glen Croe. This track goes up the south side of the Glen offering fine views of the A83 and the old Military road which gets used as a bypass if a landslide closes the main road. I suspect Mr Wade would find this very amusing. In fact they considered using this track as an alternative and ran a few trucks up to test it out; concluding that it would be too dodgy and just as prone to landslips. Its a fine single speed killer as its just at that grade that makes walking seem painfully slow but needs a fair old effort to pedal. Two dudes on Yamaha Teneres coming down the other way nearly ran me down to boot!
Now what? Hells Glen then Loch Eck trails or..... I know I'll do that path I've been meaning to do for yonks. So bomb down to Lochgoilhead on the track and then off along the wee road past Ardroy, Cormonochan Woodlands (scene of many a Fife Conservation Volunteer work party, alas no more) then continue along the west side of Loch Goil to Castle Carrick. It had been quite dry to this point but looking back revealed much cloud and rain to the north. South looked sunny however so hopefully I would be heading in the right direction for a change.
Much wetter looking north
Beyond the castle there is a track for a bit and then a path of dubious provenance which I'd been told went OK. What the hell, it was only a couple of K and I was on the path killer, aka a bike that was light enough to carry... In the event it was a peach - a well constructed gravel path, complete with footbridges and only a few wet bits. It finished with a bit of a pull (i.e a push) up to a blessedly low key forest track - one with grass growing up the middle - which seems a rarity these days. A few ups and downs and it popped out at Ardentinny.
Now what. West to Loch Eck and more forest tracks would be OK. In fact heading west hereabouts isn't easy unless you have a boat. Sea lochs - actually fjords in all but name - perforate the coastline and westward progress means lots of northing and southing. The mess of the naval base spoils things a bit but you pass through many acreage of atlantic oak woodland which is fab. I could hardly move for red squirrels, buzzards, various sea birds and other flying beasties (slugs as well - they are a food source after all). In the event I headed south as this looked the most interesting route.
Dilemma. I had run out of food and a quick forward projection of where I was going, plus the late hour suggested there would be bugger all other than pubs which may or may not be fully booked, closed, crap or off limits to someone as smelly as I now doubtless was. Ardentinny, Strone and Kilmun produced nothing in the way of shops and one wee cafe which I couldn't be bothered with. I was reluctant to head into nearby Dunoon but figured this would be better than starving to death. Then lo! a roadside diner did appear, complete with Jet garage and Londis. At first I thought I might have been hallucinating through hunger but nope, it was indeed right there. I wonder if the diner is a throwback to when the yanks occupied Holy loch with their nuclear subs (they left the place in the late '90's and left an economic hole they made no effort to compensate which the local area struggled to recover from) but these days its a more traditional Scottish purveyor of fried food. I was relieved as this would mean no diversions off route. And very good it was too and cheap! The garage provided onward food then it was up, up and away towards the Kyles of Bute.
To this point I'd had a few sprinkles of rain but inevitably on this sizeable climb, the rain came in, in earnest - more fine dreich but further damp bivvyage was not something I particularly relished. It's an interesting road however passing much scenery, albeit of the forestry type. I have been over this road before but it would have been at least 25 years ago... It dried up soon after and I had a sunny run down to Tighnabruaich via a further road climb that I had to push! As expected there were no open shops and nothing much inspiring in the way of pubs. I blazed on through, the ferry terminal of Portavadie my destination.
Kyles of Bute view point, the Bute ferry in mid channel. For the avoidance of doubt, this is the sea! It crossed my mind to head south instead of further west then north but in the end I stuck to my vague plan to hit the Mull of Kintyre, hence heading for Portavadie.
I got there at 6 and then dithered. The next ferry was at half past but I had no idea what bivvy sites would be in scope on the other side. I had a mosy down to Pollphaill village - famously deserted after having been built for an oil boom that never happened. In fact it never even got occupied. As it happens its now been bought and demolished which is a shame as I'd thought of using one of the abandoned buildings for a cheeky bivvy. Annoyingly it looked like there was a fine beach just below it but there was no way to get access without breaking through the totally unnecessary heras fencing. Next door is the horribly contrived Portavadie mariner and hotel which was avoided like the plague. Instead I headed north, my bivvy radar set to full strength.
Jackpot. A local map indicated a path network through the woods and to Glenan bay - bound to be a good spot here. There then followed a bit of extreme hike a bike over a rocky shore path to said bay. I looked back and noted a spit of land to a rocky outcrop. There was a posh looking (but totally isolated) bothy / house in the bay and a couple necking on the beach just down from it but this grassy strand to the rocky knoll looked perfect. I loitered until a couple of blokes collecting cockles or muscles departed then headed along the shore to the spot.
It was. There was just enough of a breeze to keep the midges at bay and the sun was now shining as it sank towards to hills opposite. I lazed around watching the varied sea bird life and the glorious panorama before me. My day had been a 75 miler thanks to the mornings faffing but this was plenty. I've been wanting to do a coastal bivvy since I started all this nonsense so finally I was here, on the shore and in the sun. More food and fine whisky accompanied this before turning in when darkness descended. I left the front door open in a bid to dry things out and to see the stars. A bright light was shining in behind me which I first took to be the spotlights littering the marina, only to get up to go to the loo and realise it was actually a full moon shining right through the tarp! Could this be a totally dry bivvy? At long last??
No. I woke to low cloud and rain. The inside of the tarp was soaked with dew despite the breeze and the outside now wet again. I was woken by the first ferry which was a cunning plan as it would be an hour to the next one - time enough to have breakfast, pack up, fight my way back to the terminal and use its facilities. There is nothing better than cycling onto a ferry, anticipating being taken to a new land and new adventures. Others on board were all in cars and campers. I felt smug that I wouldn't be limited by their reliance on roads and hassles with other traffic. I had all I needed with me and wanted for nothing more, other than a fried breakfast. As the ferry trundled across the loch the cloud lifted and there was even a hint of sunshine.
Tarbert is a real mix of an old fishing port and its associated paraphernalia as well as the usual holiday homes and incomer culture mixed with the remains of the whisky industry which once dominated the mull of Kintyre. A local shop provided coffee, bacon rolls and cake which I ate whilst viewing the harbour activities. Then it was off into new territory, on NCN 78 actually, around the Knapdale peninsular - watch out for beavers! After more mist the sky cleared and the sun blazed down once more. Great, I could get the tarp up at some point to dry it out whilst eating lunch. This is a great road with little traffic and fine views of the sound of Jura, Islay, and Jura itself. The Islay ferry was plying its way across the sound and a few yachts were also making full use of the breeze and sun. Islay and Jura are definitely on the radar as destinations for another trip.
More ruminating on my route then lead me to another lump of land and another new trail. At Achahoish I turned off the 'main' road onto a dead end unclassified road which was linked to another such dead end by a track. I'd actually looked into this track a few years ago - the map indicated spot heights which suggested it had once been public and geograph pics indicated it would be straightforward.
Incoming! It had been sunny to this point but once again the fickle Scottish weather nearly took me by surprise - so much for drying the tarp... Into the wet weather gear and.... cop out? nah I'll just keep on going as I've come this far. The 'track' was still surfaced, albeit a bit rough, and over the climb the clouds lifted once more to reveal the paps of Jura. This was all good stuff and the road, once re-joined; offered an ever changing view of this fascinating landscape of sea, shore, woods and hills. Not only that, I had a tailwind! I'd thought of cutting through the woods but the coastal scenery had more appeal than yet more sitka so I stuck to the road.
On a vague memory of a bike ride round Loch Awe in 1991 I headed for Crinan looking for food. In the event it offered no facilities other than a cafe with a long queue. So I sat by the canal eating food from my bags and realising that again I faced a food dilemma. I ruminated about routes and figured that getting to within a shout of home that day (a 100 mile shout) was a good move as the forecast for Wednesday was rubbish. So instead of heading further north I would make a bee line for the general locus of Tyndrum / Bridge of Orchy. This would involve 40 odd miles of back road and a few miles of (hopefully quiet) A road so still well within my pre trip aims.
But where would I get food? From Crinan I jumped onto the Crinan canal towpath which I followed all the way to the A816. I could head down to Lochgilphead for shops, no doubt, but once again my desire not to divert off route lead me onwards. Up the '816 for a bit (overtaking a folding bike mounted tourer - fair play but..... why?) then onto the comically decrepit U road to Ford at the southern end of Loch Awe, complete with grass growing up the centre, monster potholes, gates and cows. There used to be a hotel / pub at Ford but this is long shut. Hmm. I had 5 snickers and a packet of crisps. Calorie wise enough to see me through but not exactly what I'd had in mind for food when I planned this trip. By this time the weather had closed in again and it was dreiching in earnest. It was all coming from behind and I was warm enough so headed off on the east Loch Awe road, last pedaled by me in the '90's. Its a gem and its mainly in the trees so I was quite happy spinning away, getting passed by only a couple of cars the whole way up. If I were to complain it would be to observe that the scenery was obscured by the cloud. Locally its all fairly low and friendly but I should have been able to see the vastness of Ben Cruachan and its subsidiary peaks. Guess I'll have to come back then!
What to do? I could hack another night out but I was after an easy time. And my tarp was wet. And I was wet. And I'm due a night of luxury. But where? Not up by Loch Awe that's for sure. There is a hotel but it looked horribly posh (and expensive) so not a chance. Next up was a hidden bar which didn't open until 6. It was only 5.15 and I wasn't for stopping. A couple of B and B's were passed but I hate such places. Soon enough I hit the main road and a traffic, it being notionally rush hour (or at least the nearest approximation hereabouts.) This was the first in 250 miles so I couldn't complain really but getting splattered after all of what I'd done seemed a bit mean. Next civilisation was Dalmally and I was vainly trying to recall what size of place it was and what it may offer, only ever having whizzed through on the main road. I knew there was a train station at least. But what about shop, or pubs or hotels.....
First job was to check out the train times. One was due south in an hour. This would enable a jump to Crianlarich, a short hop on the A82, a backroad then Killin and its Co-op open until 10, followed by plenty of good bivvy spots on the cycleway. OK, that's plan B. A bit of nosing then came across the Dalmally Hotel looking suspiciously quiet. But the chap out front cleaning the windows was most welcoming. A room? Of course, come this way. Oh yes - room, food and beer. I'm in.
It cost a bomb (£85 B& large B) but stuff it I was on holiday and I've not done a cheeky hotel night since 2017. By this time the weather had actually cleared up and I could hear a thousand bike packers taunting me for copping out. But I wanted a pint so stuff everything. Anyway it was fab, the staff were very friendly, the food voluminous (and good) and the bed comfy. Sat in the bar nursing a full stomach and a pint and reflecting on my excellent day (inspite of the weather) confirmed that this had been a good choice. Fully 94 miles in around 8 hours plus a ferry journey.
Breakfast nearly burst me as they had a portion of pancakes and jam spare so I had that as well as the full fry up. At 9.30 I staggered out into a damp morning, still deliberating about my homeward route. Plan B was a train to Crianlarich as per yesterday evenings cop out plan B. Plan C was the A85 and 82.....
The forecast was good however and 1 mile of A85 convinced me that trunk road schlepping to Tyndrum, Crianlarich and Killin would be a drag. I'd already ignored the train station so it was plan A - a route I'd scoped many years ago as a through way to the west avoiding A82/85 misery. Up a damp Glen Orchy (many bivvy spots taunted me) to Bridge of the same name.
Looking back down a gloomy Glen Orchy from the West Highland Way. Along here and down to Auch farm (which now has a dark reputation - Tony Parsons RIP) and up the Alt Kinglass over to Loch Lyon on the Highland Trail once more, much reminiscing of that fateful day last May.
Last look back at the West Highlands. The res is still very low but I suspect it will be filling up pretty quickly in the coming weeks.
I'd been a bit dubious as to how well this would go on a single speed bike with 40mm tyres but its actually gravel-tastic. I cleaned all the rivers bar one with minimally damp shoes. Then the sun came out! So my route progressed to the dam and I bid farewell to the West Highlands hoping to next see them plastered in snow. Then up and over the pubil climb (again! but the other way,) past no fewer than 4 groups of bikepackers doing one of many routes that uses this road, to my favourite Co-op in Killin.That's about it. I'd vaguely thought of doing the south Loch Tay road / Glen Almond route but given the distance I stuck to the tried and tested formula of NCN 7 to Callander then a variation of my outward route back home for 6pm and 100 miles on the dot.
Looking back to the hills....
The machine. Single speed touring rules!
PS - No beavers in Knapdale but the barstards have flooded the NCN just passed Lochearnhead!
PPS. Total mileage was 350 miles which may seem a bit much for a leisurely tour but thanks to an easy pace, some favourable winds (again!!) and generally easy terrain, this was effected without any grief. A low gear helped.
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