BAM 2022 Review

So another year, another bivvy a month campaign completed. I'd actually a couple of close shaves this year whereby I couldn't really be bothered going out but went, purely because I was determined to complete it no matter what. Not the best of motivations but generally any reticence to leave the house evaporated once I was underway. After last years bumper year of bike riding, this one hasn't featured much in the way of long distance routes. But I've done a lot of nice trips, nice riding and nice bivvies so overall a successful year. Of particular note was grabbing a bonus fair weather weekend in March doing the Cairngorms Tour with added snow. Also much 'real' bikepacking (TM) i.e. without hotels or hostels and under a flat tarp. In fact my holidays have been super cheap this year with only one hotel night a few nights in a paying campsite.

That said I've had more than my fair share of near bivvy disasters, thanks to weather, the winged menaces and a near stove fireball incident in February. As with last year, despite a cracker of summer, I've been rained on a lot, either just before, just after or during my pitch (or all three!) That said on reviewing my ride records, the word 'dry' does feature on most of them... Overall I managed 19 nights out, my second best (ever!) So herewith my usual BAM review:-

Highest Bivvy - 580m AOD, in the Yorkshire Dales above Cam fell.

Not that high (again!) so much for plans to do a Munro bivvy. And in England to boot! But it was a good one, being my only bivvy to date where I just had to roll out the bag and mat on the sun kissed moor.

Lowest Bivvy - About 10m AOD, on the Moray coast in Burghead forest. Not quite a sea shore bivvy but nearly!

Longest ride to a bivvy - same again. Char Bothy to Burghead woods, 120 miles.

Longest ride after a bivvy, same ride, different bivvy, in fact a bothy!

Worst weather on a bivvy:- Some stiff competition for this one. I think the wet and windy pitch in Glen Clunie (just up from Braemar) aces several damp camps.

Best weather on a bivvy:- I'll go with March in the Cairngorms as it was wall to wall sunshine but not too hot.

Night 1....

Remotest bivvy:- Ditto at our pitch by Loch Builg Lodge in the Cairngorms

Night 2...

Worst Bivvy:- I've had a few whereby I've just had to grin an bear it but May's in Tentsmuir forest, at the mercy of the mosquitos, was most unpleasant and topped the 'beam me out of here' category by a mile.

A hasty departure....

Best Bivvy:- Loch Builg again, in the company of R&I with lots of chit chat, after a great ride, preceding a great ride and with great weather.

Best Bothy:- Two official MBA bothys and a couple of tin sheds have sheltered me this year. Probably Char was the best after a long old ride through Angus and a monster climb. It was most pleasant sitting and relaxing with a fine meal and a nip of whisky or two.

Best Trail ridden as part of a bivvy:- Tricky one this as I've ridden many good trails this year. Probably an old favourite - Ben Alder north to south after a midge fest bivvy by Loch Pattack; also in stunning weather.

Coldest Bivvy:- -6 by the shores of Loch builg - a personal record!

Hottest Bivvy:- +30 degrees in the Yorkshire Dales, Loch Pattack, and Loch Lyon. (never a category previously as it's not been hot enough, this summer was a scorcher!)

Kit chat....

I mapped all of my loads for no other reason than to enable further refinement. The flat tarp got used in January, March, May, June, July, August, September and October. I switched to a DCF one from Wild sky gear in July and also got an ultralight pole from Bearbones bikepacking which puts my flat tarp, bivvy bag, pole and pegs set up to 500g's. This is lighter than most bivvy bags, hooped or otherwise, and allows for survival in much worse weather. Adding a 60g sea to summit nano bug mesh tent enables midges and mozzies to be dealt with, albeit with a lot of faff. Other stuff was my usual. I didn't use the winter bag this year, just the quilts - Thermorest Vespa when it was cool (including when it was -6!) and Cumulus 150 when mild. I had two nights where this was too hot! 

My lightest load out on the Yorkshire Dales tour - DCF tarp set up, cumulus 150 quilt, full length thermorest mat, pillow, boxers and T shirt for sleeping, no stove, water filter, minimal food, lightweight waterproof jacket, no over-trousers or gaiters. Ideal for the mega hills a Dales tour entails. 

Overall this year was much warmer than last, with me being able to use the 150 quilt from April through to November (2021 it only got used from June until September!) The inner tent got used in the tent twice, although I should have deployed it many more times for a bug free bivvy!

So here we are again at the end of another year. It occurred to me not to bother next year for reasons I'd be hard pressed to express - something to do with an increasing desire as I get older to avoid any form of commitment, bike riding wise, and to just take it all as it comes. But I guess I will just make a start in January and see how it goes. Once again I will try to do a snowy one, and one over 900 meters. But otherwise I'll just play it by ear!

December BAM on the second attempt...

The first attempt was to be the Bear Bones Scottish Winter Bivvy, destination Loch Muik and the 'Royal' bothy behind Glas Alt Sheil house. On the face of it a straightforward prospect with a few options to get there. Plan A for me was to drive up to Glenshee ski centre, have an easy pedal down to Braemar and then over to Loch Muik. The return would be via a route I'd scoped years ago over the high tops between Glen Muik and Glen Shee. Dave and Morne were heading up from Newcastle with a plan to start in Glen Clova. Jimmy formed the remainder of the SWB crew with a plan to spend the weekend up there and ride in from Ballater. A last minute addition was my old mate Max from Uni days who was to pedal up from his gaff near Huntly.

First casualty was Dave with the seasonal cold and concern about dragging a bike through knee deep snow. The weather had been for sunshine all week with a smattering of snow on Friday but this ramped up to a full on dump Friday, making Plan A increasingly dubious as the Glenshee web cams showed increasing amounts of snow on high. The final kybosh on this was the A93 being shut on Saturday morning. Worse, more snow was forecasted for the afternoon and over night. So Plan B was engaged - up into Glen Clova, up the road and over the Capel Mounth - a fairly straightforward route. The first intimation of doom was large clouds looming over the Angus hills and snow showers on the road up. After parking by the Scott / Wilson Monument I set out into the gathering gloom.

Didn't know this was here, apparently both of them spent a lot of time in this area before their ill-fated expedition to the South Pole.

The snow started soon after - big heavy, wet flakes. The road was slushy and views were nil. Nearing the Clova hotel the clouds lifted and the snow went off but this revealed plastered hills with spin drift blowing off the tops. In hindsight this was the point where I bailed....

But I carried on up the glen, despite the snow coming back on heavier than ever, and off on the track up to the pass. The snow was lying thickly below and coming down thickly from above.

At the start of the pass. Its 5 1/2 miles to Glen Muik and the route tops out at 650m. I've done it twice before (in the summer) so knew that as well as a substantial climb, there is a reasonable trek at high level before dropping into the glen. It was a no brainer - I'm done with epic hikes through thigh deep snow these days and writ large was the realisation that however bad it was tonight, it would be much worse coming back tomorrow. So I about-faced and cruised off back down the glen to the car, as usual feeling like I'd wimped out rather than made a rational decision.

Well it turned out it was a rational decision as Jimmy took 9 hours to reach the bothy at 11pm, totally exhausted after pushing through waist deep snow. Max didn't even make it that far. Two guys in a 4WD coming out of the glen warned him of the conditions (which Jimmy was fighting his way through) so he camped near the trees and his words, "went to sleep in a tent and woke up in a snow hole." Their return trips were similarly epic....

To further add to the frustration, on getting home and deciding to unload the bike straight away (rather than forget about it until the next morning,) I discovered a lack of front wheel. I had one of those horrified moments of realisation - I'd lent it against the car to shove the bike in but not then picked up. I actually briefly contemplated abandoning it but swiftly over-ruled myself - it was £500 worth (with brand new Surly bud fitted) and I wanted to go out the next day. So a fairly rapid return to the car park I'd started from ensued. Fortunately the snow was sticking to the hills and there wasn't much traffic (or police) around. Sure enough, there was my front wheel.... A leisurely return home followed.

By way of compensation the forecast locally was to be cold and clear for the Sunday and the Ochills had received a mere dusting of snow rather than the large volumes the Highlands had caught. So a fine day was spent on frozen trails and enough snow to provide plenty of amusement.

So now what. I'd done the same in 2018 - wimped out of an SWB and went with grabbing one on the way down to Mum and Dad's. After much rumination I fancied Dryfehead bothy as it could be easily accessed from Boreland, not far off my route home. So no epic rides, just an easy pedal on a forest track.

I passed a car near the farm as you enter the forest which looked out of place. Hmm - somebody out on a night ride or would the bothy be occupied? As the rain had come on within minutes of me leaving the car this seemed a little unlikely on a Thursday night but sure enough on arrival I noted xmas lights and candle light in the window - very festive!

Three guys were ensconced and seemed happy for me to join them although as usual my self consciousness came to the fore, wondering if I should do an about turn. In the event we had a convivial night. It turned out two of them ran Pipedream cycles and the other chap was their mate, all residents of Peebles. What's more, Si's wife is in for next years Highland Trail so much bike talk ensued. Finally I retired to the back room, now wood paneled and equipped with proper bunks since the 2019 SWB. The three fire logs I'd dragged up with me took the chill of the air and would hopefully help to dry my damp gear. A good night's sleep followed....

Defo a good one and the loo makes things much easier...

I threw in a variation via the black Esk reservoir on the way back just to get some miles in.

So a lamer of a ride but December done, therefore completing yet another BAM campaign!

November BAM

November done and it was soggy...

Slashing rain just as it got dark wasn't particularly conducive to going out but it was now or never. Anyway by the time I left it had dried up and stars were showing. Second consecutive Friday night bivvy and it is a great way to end the week. As soon as I got pedaling the stresses of the week disappeared and weather concerns were forgotten. The dryness didn't last of course and an incessant drizzle cut in after a half hour of damp roads and trails. Having ignored such rain a few times in recent months, and gotten very wet as a result, I didn't muck about - into waterproofs and carry on. I'd nothing fancy planned, location wise, as my back is giving me gyp thanks to an ill-advised log lift a couple of weeks ago... I'd scoped a couple of spots in Glendevon woods a few weeks ago so one of these would do. Of course in the dark it all looked different and the wind seemed to be on the increase. But I managed to find a good spot next to a little used trail. The rain went off for the pitch so I was in and snug soon enough. 

As it happens I was close to my February spot and also had the Deschutes and soto blast furnace. I'd nearly reduced the deschutes to a melted crisp packet that time so was a mite more careful this time. I'd made a bit more effort tea wise as I'm fed up of freeze dried stuff. That said it was still pre processed stuff - boil in the bag lentil stew, rice and smoked sausage (as usual) garnished with cheese. Haute cuisine? you can stuff it. For desert I drank beer whilst the wind blew a constant spray of water at me from the trees, much like my February bivvy. This persisted all night but didn't prevent a sound sleep.

It's daylight, honest...

And raining. I sploshed my way through a few trails round the woods but in view of the weather, my back, and a need to do stuff at the house I made a reasonable bee-line home.

Only December left, hopefully in the company of the SWB crew!

Bear Bones 300, 2022

I'm riding along a trail. It's quite a nice trail, being narrow, smooth and grassy; undulating gently across a large area of moorland. Thanks to the torrential rain of the previous days it's a bit damp in places but nothing too bad. The sun has shone for most of the day and the wind generally light. Views from this large moorland would be fabulous. It sounds perfect, but it's not...

It's 3am so dark, and therefore no view. I've been on the go for nearly 19 hrs and ridden for 220km with over 5000m of climbing. What I'm riding doesn't match with where I think I am. The woodland I'd hoped to bivvy in was 15k ago but I don't know this, I think it's ahead. I scroll ahead on the route on the GPS trying to figure out what's happening. But I can't really see any detail without my specs. In the light of the near full moon the trail carries on into infinity, inevitably heading uphill, always uphill. My on bike GPS shows a purple line with an arrow on it - me. My internal GPS has failed - I'm not lost, I just don't know where I am. All I can do is follow the purple line. Forget where you are, why you are here, who you are, just follow the line, no matter what. Just keep going. And going. And going....

At 7.47 the previous morning I'd departed a bright and sunny Llanbrynmair in a fine mood and the pure pleasure of the prospect of 300k of excellent trails. The drive down the previous day had been a bit of a mission thanks to torrential rain and heavy traffic. But I was here now and ready to go after a fair bit of prep; plus the usual stressing over route logistics, gear choices and planning. As ever, once I departed all this disappeared from my consciousness and I was back into that oh so familiar place of riding my bike on a long route with little cares, despite what was to come.

Prep included much map viewing of the route. As it happened a chunk of the last 100k was similar to the first 100k of last years route, just in the other direction. So familiar trails would lift spirits at a critical point when it's dark, you are tired and energy is at it's lowest ebb. Before that it looked like a mix of riding but with some ace scenery. The weather forecast had got progressively better for the weekend as the week progressed but the un-forecasted deluge on the Friday morning was of concern. Still, if you are in Wales (or anywhere else in the UK for that matter) in October and the weather is going to be nice then you can't really stress about trail conditions can you?

Sure enough the first trail over the first moor was indeed wet. But not a bog, so hopefully the damp would only be surface deep. Puddles I could deal with. The first of much nav faffing occurred just as I met Pete, a fellow 300 rider. I'd been following him instead of the route so missed a kink in the trail through a gate to stay on the right line. Back on track and the first descent - narrow, rocky, slatey, slippy. Oh yes slate is like ice when wet so take it steady buddy or we'll be off. More slithers followed on another trail type that would feature heavily in the coming miles - saturated clay churned up by cows, sheep and tractors. Keep the speed down to stop spraying it everywhere, weight well back. No probs, I have mudguards. Then a steep slate strewn chute that was taken more sideways than forwards. "Steady man" I spoke to myself. Got to keep it the right way up as even a minor off can be ride ending when you've 300k to do....

I pleased myself by riding right passed the Machynlleth Co-op. I'd only done 20k so ploughed on, my pace super steady. Any time I felt myself starting to push on I reined it in. Go slow, go steady was my mantra.

A rider on the next trail revealed itself as Bob, who left just before me. He knew this bit and warned of a long, long climb on a forest track that would be a killer on SS. This is what you get when you sign up for these things....We both then passed Liz, also doing the 300 on a steep and stony climb. I revealed my pushing skills and stomped away from them in that oh so familiar rhythm. 

Open moors and views were the prize and the sea glinting in the sunshine. For all I enjoyed last years route, the views were limited for the most part due to the terrain and gloomy weather so this was on the money. BB200/300 moment. I'm pushing up a steep road climb and notice a narrow rocky trail climbing away from a hairpin bend. 50 yds later I stab the GPS screen to check I'm on route. I'm not, I should have forked right back the ways. Turn round, get to start of rocky trail - yup this is the route. I bash through it as quick as possible, thankful for a pair of boots which allow this without too much worry about slipping or turning an ankle. It joins a fire road after a 100 yds. The route could have used this for an easier climb but then it wouldn't be the BB200/300...

As Bob said, the next trail was a long, long climb (actually the most height gain on the route) but I got up it fine, expending mental effort to keep the pace down to that perfected single speed slow cadence. The fun began at a right turn, into a nadgery, rocky byway climbing out of the woods. There then followed a network of byways - smooth tracks with gargantuan puddles, rocky tracks, (more puddles) narrower trails with huge ruts, puddles, multiple lines. 

Wales is kind of the last bastion of motorised trail riding in the UK - the widespread closures of vehicle ROW's seen across England seem largely absent here, for whatever reason. This has lead to it being a mecca for the trail riding types so use is heavy. It's also anarchy as there is plenty evidence of illegal riding off the ways as well as use of forests - we'll come back to this...

The bunch I met were cheery enough however and the leader asked if I was OK when he passed me about to commence a puncture faff. So much for my unblemished ITT puncture record (5000k of ITT's with no punctures!) I'd turned off a fire road into a rocky descent, thought "steady now" hit a loose stone and 10 yards later felt the back tyre go soft. Shit, so much for a pair of brand new tyres. Next question, can I plug it as getting Rangers off is nigh on impossible. Specs on, tools out, pump tyre and sure enough two 5mm slits, one near the crown and one right in the bead of the rim - classic tubeless snakebite. I knew they would never seal so got stuck in with the plugs - gooey thin strips. Pump up tyre, still some leakage but a shake of the wheel and they both sealed. Pump again no probs, crack on. 10 minutes lost. 

Just after this was one of two fords on the route which put the stress levels up further as it was deep - thigh deep at least. Now most people would just plunge in, get soaking wet and then moan about wet feet and cold afterwards. Not me. Plan A was always to avoid such crossings, Plan B was shoes and socks off. Think laterally - the ford is actually across a junction of a smaller burn and a big one. Fight through the undergrowth, throw bike into small burn, jump across. Fight through undergrowth push up track, get on, ride. Except the back tyre feels soft. On for a bit but it's no good as all you end up doing is spraying sealant everywhere. Stop. Sort it. The plug in the tyre bead was fine but the one on the crown wasn't. I've got bigger plugs, I've got this. Pull out the plug and ram in a bigger one. Ram it in properly, this has to do 250k. The trail riding group passed and I started pumping. No messing just up to what I need and sure enough all sealed.

Bob appeared so we chatted a bit (me and Bob often meet on ITT routes - we chat for a bit then my anti-social single speed pace leaves him...) before I pulled ahead. Earlier I'd been properly happy with the route, the views, everything. Now I was stressing about punctures and if I could carry on if this repair didn't work. I had a tube with me but this would be a hassle. I'd seen a vid by Neil Beltchenko last year on tubeless repair tips. His view was that you only use a tube as an absolute last resort. Needle and thread, tyre patches, boots, superglue, dirt and spit. I had all this so as I rode along I planned my next repair and this would be rock solid. The miles passed, the tyre was firm and the stress dissipated. And why wouldn't it? I was in the middle of what would be one of the nicest sections of the route - fine views, some excellent bike riding on trails which just kept going and going. Occasionally you'd hit a road but often you'd just cross it or follow it for a bit before pealing off on another trail. 

Byway world - Bob just visible

Tick, tick, tick, tick... what's that? A thorny branch stuck in the front tyre. I pulled it out without thinking and the removed thorn lead to a hiss of air. A quick spin of the tyre and the sealant did it's job. Some time later the same happened. This time I left it so the thorn would help with the seal as I was now becoming puncture paranoid. Was this the time I'd have to DNF through a mechanical?

Finally I was spat out on a precipitous road descent, followed by a hard road climb. There would be plenty more of these but I kept telling myself - "7500m of climbing, 7500m of climbing." It's no good looking ahead and hoping the route won't drop you into that valley, or won't follow that track climbing steeply up the hill opposite. There is 7500m of climbing on this route so yes, you are going to drop down to that valley and yes, that is your route up that hill opposite. Still, for me it's dead easy - you roll to the bottom, get off, push.

A missed turn was objected to strongly by a bunch of feral farm dogs, which got me back on route sharpish. A grassy trail followed through fields full of sheep and sheep dung. Ah yes, after last years 200, my bike ended up being somewhat aromatic for weeks afterward. As it happened, this wouldn't be an issue for this ride.

I can see the sea!

One final precipitous descent got me onto NCN 81 and some easy miles, spent eating. That said, 8k of flat gravel path isn't necessarily a good thing as this just compresses the climbing! But the respite continued for a few road miles and then a bridleway I'd pegged as being potentially problematic - vague, overgrown, covered in fallen trees etc. In the event it was as clear as mud - a 2m corridor of properly gooey clay with added puddles. There was no chance of bypassing any of this as the local horsey fraternity had ensured the full available width was ploughed into glop. I must thank John Allan and Tom Bruce for showing the best line though all of this. I'd become aware I was following two sets of bike tracks some time ago and they were a boon through this lot. No choice but to keep going and keep the speed down. 

Bless Stuart though - he must have predicted this as just afterwards was a nice ford to wash the worst of the mud off. A stick scraped about half a kilo off the crud catcher and rear 'guard and off we go. Into more of the same.... OK not that bad and soon enough I was onto more fire road. I stopped for a drink from an incredibly clear burn at the track side. I'd gone without a filter as I was confident of getting water at two points on route, at least. But the now hot sun had me sweating and drinking so I used this for a top up - a benefit of the rain the previous day as I was sure it would be clean. Two passing horse riders were firstly concerned about my seemingly abandoned bike and then nextly by me emerging from the undergrowth by the burn...

Perpetrators of mud!

More fine riding followed on one of those gems of a doubletrack with grass in the middle, a smooth line either side, no puddles and a fab view. A big moor was approaching but I was looking forward to this. Firstly a climbing road (always climbing) up onto the prodigious moor that feeds the Elan valley and it's reservoirs. The afternoon was drawing on but I was feeling OK overall with a large dent made in my food supplies and near perfect pacing. After the road became a byway I grinned as this was more like the stuff I'm familiar with - large moor, stony track through it, vast views all around. Ford number two appeared here. In the event I got across it feet dry thanks to a bit of line imagination as the middle bit the vehicles used was deep. All part of the fun. We even had some threatening cloud! A few spots of rain actually came in at one point but I left it behind as I descended past the res.

Despite all the rain, still very low. A side burn I'd crossed had etched a steep and rocky gorge on it's path into the reservoir. Normally this would be far under water but now it was re-revealed, thanks to the dry summer. I amused myself imagining the res water level slowly creeping back up the gorge as the river poured more into it.... 

The public loo provided a much needed pause. I didn't bother with water here as I'd filled up from a trackside spring - again, crystal clear and fresh. What I will call 'digestive system maintenance' is just as important as all the other stuff you need to do these things. If your guts disagree with you when you are trying to ride 300k's your stuffed. Literally. The problem being is that if your digestive system gets too upset then it will grind to a halt and you lose the ability to process food. The next thing you know your energy disappears and you grind to a halt. Ask me how I know...

What's next? - a big steep climb to push up. On a nice grassy trail so that's OK. Over the top more grassy trail which descended a ways then climbed steadily up - lovely but we were going the wrong way along it (as usual...) Over this was a fast descent on good gravel (no puddles!) More road, a steep climb through forestry and more easy track into a steep descent back to civilisation. 

I'm cruising all of this, seemingly with little effort. Climbs are tackled if they look OK or pushed if too steep; all in a rhythm I'm oh so familiar with. And it's all enjoyable - every descent elicits a grin, every climb a grimace but in the knowledge it's well inside my ability. As a finale, Stuart had thrown in a cheeky footpath descent that was a rock filled slot - just what I like and which I tackle like any other such trail. The previous k's are forgotten and the following k's not thought about. All there is, is me and this rocky descent, the rest can wait.... Best of all I had a major treat at the end of it - the Llanwrthwl Spar shop on which I fell like a rabid hyena on a week old corpse.

Oh yes

Right then. My belly was stuffed, I'd used the loo (again), my bags were near as full as at the start, my (water) bladder was brimmed and I felt good. Next chance of water was 100k away. Off we go then. As it happened I'd figured that the next section would be tricky - according to aerials anyway. Bog and tussock a-plenty and various lines which could be difficult to follow if it was dark. But I was way, way ahead of my most optimistic schedule so whilst the light was fading, I was confident I could bash through it before dark o'clock. And I did. Just. I suspect it had been a byway at one point, given the state it was in. But it was now shut for motors so tricky, but not a complete swamp. Hmm. Stu's line was probably the best but I ended up following the line on the ground which was a bit rough. But as I exited past a farm onto yet another completely knackered U road I felt happy. K160 (we'll come back to this), full belly, plenty of leg and energy and the long night beckoned.

The next trail was indeed an overgrown and fallen tree strewn channel, but the field next to it wasn't so my track along this section is a straight line with little zig-zags where I had to duck back into the old ROW to use the gates. A near full moon had risen in the east and I couldn't help noticing the large hill right below it. I suspected that this was my destination for the routes high point (I was in fact correct!) I'd the next few sections fairly well scoped in my head and knew that a potentially hard trail was coming. In event it was OK, just another monster climb followed by lots of puddles... 

Worryingly, as I was pushing up the first steep, two things with lots of lights attached appeared on the road behind me. I correctly guessed a couple of off-roaders were approaching but I was determined to keep ahead. Not because I had any fears about their occupants although it did occur to me that this wasn't the best place to meet a bunch of cyclist hating 4x4 rednecks. Two land rovers I'd encountered on the byway to the Claerwen res had gone out of their way to... get out of my way, I suspect as part of their 'code' to be friendly to other trail users which is fair enough. The irony of similar vehicles behaviour on a public road did not escape me though. No my concern with this lot was that I'd be was dammed if I was going to let them past on the climb only to be held up on the descent!

In the event I outpaced them by miles -1x1 is better than 4x4. The big climb loomed in my sights. The approach was typical of what I'd seen so far - a quagmire through a farm yard and the first section of the actual bridleway, helped by the farmer having dumped a load of manure on it - muppets... I knew it would improve once I left the lowland and it did. Briefly. Then the trail deteriorated to yet another strip of sheep trodden gunge. The first bit was not too bad, I just followed in Tom and John's tyre tracks! Then it lead into a wide area of 3-4" depth of (not to put to fine a point on it) shite. Mud, sheep shit and piss all mixed together. I slithered through this cursing loudly; when things got much, much worse. 

A loud hiss from my back tyre signaled yet another hole. What in the name of all hell could cause a puncture in this lot? I spun the wheel so the hole was at the bottom of the tyre but it took a worrying few seconds of hissing and squirting of sealant, and a lot of shouting and swearing, before it sealed. Fuck, now what? Possibly a nail or a bit of wire but trust me to find it this way and no chance of trying to plug a hole given the tyre is caked in an inch of mud. I've been plagued by such punctures in the last couple of years, but not on an ITT! Whatever, just push up the hill and we'll sort it at the top. 

As it happened the grass and heather along the way was soaked with dew so the tyres were soon clean. I squeezed the rear and it still seemed firm so on we go. No up we go! And up, and up, and....

Oh dear. My earlier good feelings, punched back by the random puncture, disappeared into an endless climb. That is the problem when it's dark, distance and gradient become impossible to fathom on an open moor. I got my head down and pushed. At one point the gradient did ease and I hopped on and pedaled for a bit, fortunately without any hisses from the rear wheel so hopefully that hole is gone, but then it was back up again. Worse, at one point the trail faded into the tussocks at a shonky gate that was a quarter under water. I bashed on, my eyes glued to the GPS screen to make sure I stayed on the line. Finally I was looking at a moonlit view rather than a blank hill side. I was up, 648m right enough, downhill all the way back! Or not. Still, the moonlit panorama around me served to lift my mood, helped by the prospect of a monster descent.

The ruts in the first bit should have warned me - trail bikes. It was fun at first but down in the trees the trail became yet another glop fest. The time was telling as I was struggling to keep the plot in anything remotely like a straight line. Relax, weight well back, allow the font wheel to find it's own line. Easy when it's broad daylight and you are fit and fresh. Not now. Annoyingly I missed a turn and went a hundred yards down a trail that was particularly bad before realising my mistake. The actual route appeared to head through fire break with no discernible path. Actually there was - a vague overgrown line - yeehar, my kind of trail! Off the bottom of this was more mucky riding before the route hit fire roads right to the road once more. Phew that was a major relief getting all of that out the way - now what!

Knighton and the most easterly point of the route. Between me and it was yet another steady climb on a smooth byway. I'm pushing a lot now on any grade steeper than 'a bit.' My energy levels are dipping - just a general feeling of tiredness and a slight upset stomach. I need to eat more food. A selection of my stash goes down the hatch but it's an effort. Haribo helps and the pure sugar gives an instant kick. Finally the lights of Knighton appear below but I know everything is shut so after a fast descent I'm off back west. 

Oddly the GPS is showing 202k - It should only be 190 or so but I'm not complaining. Dunno where the extra 10k has come from. I know it not but this incorrect figure is about to haunt me.... But I'm thinking of what's coming up and planning my bivvy stop -  up humongous climb number (I don't know) on Glyndyrs way, a big road descent, more bridleway and byway climbing, more road then a few byways onto the big moor we crossed last year. At that point was a small plantation which would be my stopping point. Shouldn't be too far...

Hitting Glyndyrs way is nice - I'd never been on this bit before but knowing it leads onto familiar trails lifts flagging spirits. A smooth gravel track (another byway) up a substantial climb, pushed mainly. Near the top I eat more food and take a big drink. I recognise this bit from my map research as there is a strip of woodland next to the trail which I thought may be good for a snooze. But it's too early so onward. Grassy trail for a bit then a bit more track to the road.

Down a massive road decent I go. There is a full temperature inversion so it gets rapidly colder as I descend. This has been happening since it got dark but this time it's particularly chilly. I keep on as another climb will be along soon to warm me back up. And does it - under a railway bridge and straight into it. Up, up, up and more up to another huge moor. It's a nice grassy trail, with good waymarking and easy self closing gates before a fun section in a narrow fenced strip - easy singletrack and dry to boot. Then onto a wider track uphill. I pass a plantation which I can't remember seeing on the map during route homework. The answer is staring me in the face but my tired brain doesn't make the connection. I actually consider stopping but it's only 1am. Keep going.

So off I go into a maze of trails, all alike. I'm getting more and more concerned the further I go, never losing height, in fact gaining it constantly, never meeting a road, other than to cross one at one point. I'm riding across a wide area of moorland but none of it is familiar as I'm not expecting to be where I actually am. Where is the next road? I should have hit it ages ago? What, in fact, the hell is going on?? The GPS shows 230k which can't be right given what I still have to do. I plough on, on autopilot - just follow the line and the two tyre tracks. Finally, finally I hit a road. I still don't twig what's going on - a bit where the 'line' short-cuts a loop of gravel track through a rough grassy bit looks familiar from last year... "no it can't be, I'm not there yet..."

I fly down another steep and narrow road descent and hit a main road. I recognise this bit as well, and the turn off past a church but I'm still convinced I haven't reached my plantation yet. Uphill again and into another moor section, but not the one I think it is, so I'm still confused and I can't equate anything around me to where my failed memory thinks I should be. Another moor looms ahead but I turn left before climbing it. More grassy fields, more confusion, then another hill to climb, well over the flanks anyway. Still two tyre prints in the damp grass, still on the purple line. "Where the hell am I?" I ask the moon. It doesn't answer.

Eventually I stop, put my reading glasses on and look at the GPS screen, scrolling along the route ahead and behind to find out where the hell I am. A large forest a few k ahead confuses me - there is no such thing between me and the 'big moor'. Then the penny finally drops. This is the two forest sections before Bwylch Y Sarnau. I'm miles past the woodland I was going to bivvy in (actually the one I'd spied ages ago but didn't relate to the one I thought it was.) I am in fact many miles further along the trail than I thought I was. The section of endless trails across a big moor was... the 'big moor' section of last year, which looked totally unfamiliar due to it being dark and me being knackered. Bloody hell, what an idiot. But the realisation that I was actually well on the way to the finish gives me an instant mood kick and my stupidity is forgotten - 'm still on route and going well so forget what has gone before, just keep going. Glyndyrs cafe in Bwlych Y Sarnau was 'open' in that the porch would be open with tea and coffee making supplies, and a loo. I would bash on to there, crash out for a while and then get this route done.

Obviously it wasn't as simple as that. A fun descent on a narrow trail preceded another road plummet after sneaking through a farm yard. My minds route plan re-booted and I knew where I was. Still missed a turn though onto a grassy trail remembered from last year. An odd crunching sound as I ploughed through it confused me until I realised it was a hard frost on the ground. It's an odd feeling to be colder at valley level than on top of a large and breezy moor....

Anyway; I stomped through this and into the woods. I knew what was coming - a super steep descent from last year would be an eyeballs out push. Better yet, this year it was a mass of horse hoof poached gunge. I got up eventually and then ground up more fire road. More cheeky footpath (downhill) which was a hoot. All good as it gets the adrenaline going which wakes you up. Up again, my slow pace dragging the climb out. Finally I exited the forest, the lights of Bwylch y Sarnau ahead.

My constant companion from 7.30 the previous evening

A couple of bikes were parked outside the cafe and two guys were ensconced - Martin and Jay doing the 200. I made a cup of strong, sweet coffee which tasted like nectar. We chatted a bit about our experiences of the last 20 hours - much the same. Lots of hills, lots of mud. They left soon after but I settled back for more coffee and food from my bag, whilst running through the experiences so far in my mind. Much muppetry but actually a good showing in terms of time and distance so nothing to moan about all in all. My appetite was none existent but I nibbled as much as I could before using the loo, filling the bladder and getting going. 50 odd k to go and one significant climb left.

The benefit of knowing where you are and on familiar trails cannot be under-estimated. The fact it was good going also helped and looking up to the eastern sky I saw the first hint of dawn. Daylight started to creep over me descending down to the Severn valley. The next climb revealed my legs weren't really on speaking terms with my head but I plodded up in reasonable order, dispensed with the last grassy trail and dropped into Llandidloes. I'd plenty food left so cruised past the Co-op without a glance. Then that final climb, and what a monster. Actually one of the longest on the route and terrible at this stage in the game. Worse it seemed to have endless false summits. When it eventually switched to dirt it went further up. But at least it was now full daylight and the sun was shining.

Fast and loose decent, twists and turns, a bit of back road and then a great bridleway into the back of Hafren forest. Of course it was all uphill but steady enough not to cause too much misery. I actually recognised bits from last year and after a few more forest roads, the Severn ford (which I missed in favour of the FB,) more forest roads; I emerged onto the final road section. I had a stiff tailwind and a short easy climb before the long run back down to Llanbrynmair. I relaxed - I'd done it. Tyres had held up, knees a bit sore, back and arms aching from all the pushing and I seemed to have an energy limiter set to 'very little' which prevented any attempt at hard pedaling on the occasional short climb. But that is part of the appeal of these things. 

Your seemingly at the end of your tether, the bottom of the barrel is scraped, up-ended and peered into to see if there are any faint traces of energy left in the corners, you keep hitting another hill which you think will reduce you to a blubbering wreck, but.... you just keep going, and going, and going....

I rolled into Llanbrynmair community centre at just after 10, 26 hours and 15 minutes after leaving the previous day. Stu and Dee were there to greet me and a few others who'd finished the 200. I spent the morning drinking coffee, eating bacon rolls and trying to encompass the previous 26 hours in my head. Finally at 12 I figured I'd better get going before the sleep monsters overtook me. The journey home was much easier. An hours snooze kept me going and a large curry at my brothers place hit the spot before 10 hours of well earned sleep.

Final word.....

Another single speed triumph although I did miss a granny gear in the final miles. I do seem to have a need to be able to place myself in a landscape, even if its just to have an image of a map in my mind with an idea of where I am on it. Probably why I've a good sense of direction and am a pretty good navigator. But once I'd misplaced myself, I got pretty distressed. Of course, tiredness played a part; and my tendency to keep bashing on when I should have just stopped and figured out where I was. I'll know next time... What didn't help was my GPS gaining 10k somewhere which meant it thought we were further along the trail and I thought we were further back! No idea how - maybe it was already on the trip computer and I forgot to reset. It also recorded a max speed of 100km/h so it may be on the blink....

Timing wise I was gobsmacked to be honest. When I did the YD300 last year in just over 28 hours I figured this would be as quick as I'd ever do such a thing. On paper this route was identical to the YD - 300k and 7500m of climbing - but it was much harder. Trail conditions were largely the reason but the nature of the climbs played a part too. I should have stopped for a couple of hours (as I'd planned) as I suspect I'd have been in much better shape for the last 100k if I had. Still, I just about got away with it, and as I write this I'm well on the way to recovery. Despite the length of the journey to get there it's such a great event I want to make it an annual pilgrimage so I may re-think my travel plans for next year.

Thanks to Stuart and Dee for creating such a great 'do' and always making it both a challenge and a pleasure!

Gear stuff.

Usual bike and kit set up, pretty much identical to last year with a light bivvy bag, quilt and mat that would have been perfect had I used it....

Apart from the punctures the bike was flawless, only requiring a chain lube at K175.

Food wise I did better than last year and managed to eat for most of the route. I struggled in the early hours of Sunday however I suspect this is always going to be difficult after such a long stint. A large fry up would have gone down a treat!

Clothing wise I over-dressed as usual to help me keep my pace down which I did to perfection. This meant I didn't need to add layers when darkness fell. I got cold on the descents but quickly warmed on the climbs. Waterproofs were carried but not worn. That's two years in a row so next year is going to be a weather shocker! I'd brought my new Lake boots and my trusty Shimano XM7's but went with the Lakes as I figured they would be warmer and more comfortable. They were and I had zero foot issues. Also the soles didn't fall off as they had with my first pair! Being able to walk through 4" deep mud without getting damp feet or mud into your shoes is a significant benefit on such a long route.

The punctures....

This is the third time I've had a pinch puncture on a tubeless set up and they have all been a bit of a mystery. I often bottom out the rim on a rock when picking my way along a boulder strewn trail without any issue whatsoever. All three pinch punctures have been on a track where I've had a bit more speed and clipped a small rock. I suspect it's simply down to hitting the right shaped rock at the right angle. At first I cursed my decision to fit the Rangers instead of my normal Bonty XR2's as these have reinforced sidewalls. In truth I suspect it made bugger all difference. Being objective I lost 20 minutes fixing it which is probably less time than if I'd had to pull and fix a tube. If I'd used the right plug the first time I'd have halved this time. Also the thorn punctures in the front tyre sealed instantly saving me a further two 30 minute puncture fixes. In fact when I pulled the back tyre to do a permanent fix on the pinch puncture holes I found two other thorns. I also found two more in the front so 8 holes overall, only two of which needed plugs. The final puncture in the back tyre remains a mystery as I can't now see where it occurred and there was nothing in the tyre. It did seal though so saving me further time loss. What I'm trying to say is that tubeless is undoubtedly better in these circumstances. I'm still refining my plug technique however!

October BAM

October....

I've always had pretty good weather on my October BAM's and this one was no exception, despite a variable forecast. In the event the deluge predicted for Friday morning didn't materialise, although it got pretty breezy at one point. Of course it was the Autumn equinox and the clocks are about to change. I thought back to my Spring equinox bivvy, in perfect weather conditions and temps down to -6. Min temps tonight were to be 11 degrees...

I'd nothing drastic planned, thanks to a few aches and pains dating from my  trials and tribulations in Wales a few weeks ago, just a run to my favourite local spot in the woods above Dunning Glen, as used a year ago and a few times before. First Friday bivvy for a while and what a great thing - finish up at work, throw some stuff at the bike and head out into the dark. Despite my prediction that this month would be a wash out, the weather was once again dry and fine with more of the same all evening and tomorrow morning. A few trails and back roads later I climbed up through the forest and reached the spot just after 8. Tarp up in jig time, make tea, drink beer, read book, listen to owls - bliss

This is actually my only proof of bivvy shot as I forgot to photo the tarp the next morning.

This is what happens when everyone gets obsessed by halloween...

It was still pretty breezy but apart from an occasional draft all was calm around me. That (and the beer) led to a solid 8 hours sleep before I woke to the dawn chorus of many tweety birds. (no barking deer this time!) Then I crashed back out for an hour or so - 9.30! After a leisurely breakfast I packed up and had a further wander around these woods.

A new trail (of sorts)

There are lots of these nice low key tracks around these woods. I guess at some point they will fell the trees and the tracks will get upgraded but for now they make for some nice riding.

Further wanderings followed through Glen Devon woods and I got home just as the rain came on - another dry bivvy! 

On with the Cruxes again, the mud is here for the duration!

Aberdeenshire and Moray tour (and September BAM!)

I do like a tour and try to do one every year. This one would take me from home up through Perthshire and Angus to the vast back road network of Aberdeenshire. Then I'd check out some Moray Coastline, drop by my friends place in lower Speyside and then tootle my way home via some suitable route and a fine shed I'd discovered a couple of years ago. I'd meant to start on Sunday but fear of lots of shops being shut on Monday thanks to Queenies appointment with boot hill lead me to delay until Monday. When touring I want to stop at as many eating and drinking establishments as possible! 

The weather forecast was all over the place as usual with the Beeb showing white cloud and 12% chance of rain across most of Scotland - i.e they hadn't got a clue what the weather would do. So I was pleasantly surprised to wake up to sunshine. I'd ruminated on various routes but aside from the weather, the clincher was the midge forecast - level one for the east but threes and fours for the west and central Highlands. No contest, I'd been clobbered by the wee buggers a fair bit this year so was determined to avoid them for this trip. I also had my sights on bothies, huts and other howffs for this reason. Of course I could have used hotels but I'm a cheapskate!

Rather a lot of faffing ensued. I'd actually got packed up on the Friday but a final check of the weather indicated a jump (upwards) in temps so out with the heavy quilt and Deschutes and in with the Cumulus 150 and tarp. I didn't hit the road until after 11. Then I remembered I'd not put the OS mapping for the north of Scotland on the new gadget so had to turn back after a mile or so and faff with that. Bloody hell, I thought I'd got this stuff off to a fine art. Oh well, still less hassle than flying!

Finally I was rolling. The earlier hassles evaporated in the sunshine and I settled into my now well practiced easy pedal on the Straggler. For a change I decided to head for Perth to avoid another go at the Dunning climb. It's a pretty good route overall with only a bit of traffic to contend with as you enter the city. On the north side it's all off road on a cycleway along the flood defenses. These were built in the '90's and unfortunately got overwhelmed just after completion due to an unseasonal 200 year flood. Since then nothing has come close!

 

By the banks of the Silvery Tay (again - I've been over and passed this mighty river many times this year) Straggler in touring mode.

There then followed a few hours of meandering northeast-ish along various minor roads, through lots of pleasant rolling countryside, the large hills of the Angus glens to my left. Much the same route I used on my tour in 2020 but none the worse for it as it's all easy riding. The GPS is a good thing for this as navigating by map would have taken ages - I wasn't in a rush but it was about 100 miles to my nights accommodation so I was for making steady but un-interrupted progress. Of course the weather soon departed from the forecast, quelle surprise, as vast rain clouds started to appear and interject themselves in my path. Amazingly I missed the lot, catching only a few sprinkles and often riding on roads that were awash from a recently departed deluge. This is probably setting me up for some horrible weather in the future (BB300?) but it may simply be the reward for dealing with so much horrible weather in years past...

As expected all shops were shut apart from the Edzell village shop which supplied crisps, coke and chocolate. To Fettercairn some light but steady drizzle came in, typical given what was to come. Which was the (in)famous Cairn O'Mounth road from Fettercairn to Banchory. I'd last ridden this in 2011, actually on the day King mark 2 and his bird got married so quite fitting really. Then I'd nailed it on my Cotic X with a 30/34 granny gear. Today would be different but having got up the Cairnwell in June on the Strag SS I had the bit between my teeth. The drizzle had been getting persistent but as I started on the climb past Clattering Brig it eased off and the darkening sky showed breaks in the cloud and even some blue sky.

So off we go. It's actually steeper than the Cairnwell - 14% in places. But a much nicer climb being more of the twisty, turny variety, rather than a relentless grind up a straight road. And up it I got! That said I was on the limit a couple of times and made use of a layby off one of the hairpins to catch my breath before the final pull. I also noted much on-road graffiti (keep going! No Pain No Gain! allez! etc.) which seems to be a feature of such hills these days. This one is now advertised as being part of a series around Aberdeenshire - there are signs at the top and bottom with gradient etc. so I guess that's why. Cue more hand ringing by the anti-cycling brigade.

Somewhat gloomy but the rain was now off and the cloud clearing

View north to Clachmaben which I'd climbed back in May

I bombed the descent and turned left off the road (77kph, 80 still alludes me), Char Bothy my destination. There was a car parked at the track end so I figured on at least one other occupant and hatched various plan B's given the drying weather and the possibility of the other occupant being a weirdo. But a stop at a burn for water revealed a cloud of mozzies! Bothy or bust then...

In the event it was unoccupied. Many may appreciate the experience of meeting a stranger in a bothy for a chat and shared experiences but I have to confess I was happy to be only in my own company. I grabbed water and set to making food. There then followed a very pleasant evening eating, reading and sipping some fine Speyside whisky. I reflected on the day thinking that most of it had been a simple progression along a route rather than a particular challenge or other difficulty which seems to be an essential part of cycling these days. All very relaxing though and the final climb did add a bit of spice to the proceedings.

Quite a salubrious bothy although no fire which is why I suspect it sees little overnight use. The visitor book showed lots of day visits but only a few over-nighters, including the MBA who had been in a couple of nights previous.

The next morning dawned sunny so I packed up and high-tailed it to Banchory for a large fried breakfast (and the loo.) I'd plugged a route into the GPS which would take me roughly north to Banff on the Moray coast. Included were a couple of forest sections for some variety. From Banff my plan had been to head for Fochabers and then to Blacksboat by the Speyside Way. But I was already thinking of doing some of the coastal cycle route. I'd see when I got there. 

There then followed a lengthy ride through rural Aberdeenshire on pretty much all empty 'U' roads. You are quite close to Aberdeen at first and a couple of B roads I crossed or used for a bit had a bit more traffic but the rest of this quite considerable area was very quiet. Approaching Pitfichie forest I checked the route which was a bit of a loop so decided to miss it out. The next bit looked to be more in line with where I was headed (although I was already starting to lose track of where I was) so I'd do that instead. Before entering the woods I started on a climb signed as the 'Lords Throat' which looked quite interesting so I suspect I'll be back! Anyway I turned off on a small track which quickly deteriorated to a stony, then rocky single track, climbing steeply in a series of switch backs. I'm sick of hearing all these twerps asking 'can you ride a gravel bike on this trail' Don't ask, just try it and see what happens! Of course being singlespeed makes it much easier as you just get off and push... That said I actually got up quite a lot of it and soon enough it emerged on a better track.

Mither Tap - these pointy ex volcanoes are littered across the land hereabouts. The rest is rich rolling farm land with oddly named hamlets at regular intervals - Echt, Monymusk, Durno, Inverythan (Ythan wells is nearby both on the River Ythan. I think there may be some welsh link to these names but it escapes me) being but a few. After this was a fast descent back to the road and then onwards through more rolling countryside. I kept looking for a view of the sea (which in reality was still a ways off) but there seemed to be another ridge of low hills over everyone I climbed. 

By the time I reached Turrif I was feeling somewhat weary. Despite the easy terrain, the constant ups and downs were adding up. They are very low but the vertical profile looked like a cardiogram of me on the Cairn O'Mount last night! Turrif revealed itself as a small but slightly faded town with a fine bakers shop that provided a much needed late lunch. The oil industry in nearby Aberdeen has led to much wealth in this area but it's on it's uppers these days and it's starting to show. Goodness knows what the future holds for Aberdeen though given that the oil and gas industry, once seen as the saviour of the economy, is now seen as a pariah to the environment and so doomed... We'll see. I suspect pragmatism will of necessity creep back in so Aberdeen may have a couple more generations of industry.

From Turrif I followed NCN 1 north to Banff on the Moray Coast. I lingered on the prom for a bit watching the sea and decided to abandon my route through yet more rolling countryside to Fochabers and instead follow the coast west to some suitable point for a kip

Looking back to Banff and Macduff

On NCN 1 looking back to Cullen. NCN1 is actually a great route along here - it follows a mix of off-road cycleways along the seafront, longish sections of old railway line and mainly empty back roads. Riding along the coast was extremely pleasant. Waves crashed against the beach to my right, a more relaxing noise you'd be hard to find, and after miles of rich farmland, the Highlands re-established themselves with views north to the Caithness hills. Once again the vagaries of wind changes were favouring me with a gentle breeze helping me on my way. The bike whizzed along underneath me, my low gear requiring minimum effort to keep us moving. Who wants all the hassles of foreign holidays? Not me, not with this going on. One section of the railway path after Cullen is getting a wee bit rough but mostly its great fun and easy going with a long section of tarmac to Buckie. 

Gravel-tastic on the way to Findochty

Buckie provided chips and supplies for the rest of the evening and then it was more back roads to this rather fine old railway bridge over the river Spey:

This would have made a good bivvy spot (by the river not on the bridge!) but it was still a bit early. I've been across this a few times so in theory I was on familiar ground but my memories of the distances were vague. NCN1 is mainly well signed with distances as well as directions. Some of the distances indicated were a lot longer than what my failing memory had thought. I could have headed up the Speyside way from here to within a shout of my pals place but decided to keep on east, Culbin forest my thought for a bivvy. But a sign to Elgin at 14 miles and Forres 28 knocked that idea back. I was becoming aware that I'd been on the go for a fair old time so plan B was needed. Roseisle forest, not far out of Elgin was the answer and should be good for a dry and sheltered spot.

Darkness fell on the approach to Elgin and a pleasant surprise was the new cycleway that traced a line along the north side of the town, instead of a convoluted route through it that my old OS mapping was showing. There were actually a fair few nocturnal dog walkers along here but someone had installed illuminated road studs at intervals along the route. As I approached with my eye melting light they came to life and so the peds knew I was coming and scattered (joke.) A few more miles of back road followed then I made a nav bad decision to hit the B road for what I thought would be a more direct route to the woods. Despite the hour a fair bit of traffic was on this road, no idea why! Anyway a couple of miles of this and I turned off into the woods and the main car park, noting both the loo and the burger bar I'd discovered here last year.

I headed west along the coastal path route looking for a spot. I wanted to keep away from the car park and loo but I was feeling pretty weary by now so didn't want to go too far. Having been through here on the fatty a few times I knew the lie of the land and was confident I'd find a good spot. My biggest worry was storm Arwen destruction but there was surprisingly little - odd given its exposed location. I headed for the shore line and found a perfect sheltered hollow. Better yet the sound of waves coming in 50 meters away would be most relaxing. I'd been worried that the mozzies or midges would be about and had a plan in my head to dive into waterproofs and head net before setting too. In the even there were none! It was now 9.30pm and I'd done 120 miles. The tarp went up in lightening fast time as I feared the winged menaces would suddenly appear, but apart from a few moths and other unidentified flying things there was nothing of the biting kind. I sipped some whisky, reflected on a fine day and then bang! Out like a light.

The next morning - sunny again. Typically it had clagged in the previous evening and I'd been in fear of a wet bivvy. In the event I'd again narrowly missed some big showers and got set up dry. A heavy shower had come through later on and the wind did indeed get up at first light, disturbing my repose. I had also been shocked out of a doze by a bright light shining around (at 5am!) I feared night time nutters or poachers but it looked like someone with a head torch going along the nearby coastal path - probably an army type commuting to the nearby Kinloss base.

If I'd waited half an hour I could have had breakfast at the burger bar as the chap was setting up as I exited the loo. Instead I pedaled off into the breeze thinking I'd get to Forres before breakfast. Much fried food fueled me for an easy run over the hill to Knockando on the Spey and a trundle up the railway path / Speyside way to Blacksboat. 

A pleasant afternoon and evening followed with R & I. It was somewhat wet the next morning but it cleared by the time I was ready for the off. No drama today, just a leisurely run along to Grantown and Nethy bridge, where I had lunch. A local chap sat down on the table next to me and it turned out he was from Methill originally and remembered the railway line to Leven before it closed. So we chatted about the new line and the prospects it would bring new life to the place. The sun was shining full on so I decide to do Ryvoan as a change. I've not been over this on the Straggler so it would add a bit of interest to what would otherwise be a fairly straightforward route.

And it was, adding the only really wild riding of the trip. The Stragg dispensed with it in good order and the descent was a hoot.

Coffee and more food at the Glenmore Cafe then the entertaining blast down the logging road to Coylumbridge. I'd meant to pick up the Speyside way from here but forgot... Oh well, the back road to Insh was quiet and I did the last bit on the 'way to Kingussie. More delays here as I called into Bothy bikes for a catch up with Dave who seems to be enjoying his new locus. A fair few paying customers came and went so it's good to see things are still going well after the pandemic rush for bikes. Yet more food from the Newtonmore co-op preceded further easy pedaling down the A9 cycle route. Despite the ever present traffic on the nearby A9 I enjoyed the riding and the oh so familiar hills up which I've walked and skied quite a bit now. I caught the tail end of a few showers down here and looking back north revealed many just missed black clouds - I've never had such luck with the weather! Over the pass the sky cleared once more and a fine evening looked in prospect.

I reached the turn off to Trinafore as dusk was falling, hoofed it up the climb with ease, my digs not too far away. It's a good spot being not too far off the road and fairly easy to get to. Unlike my last visit all was clear around so I could have tarped it in the woods but I was after an easy time. More food, and 'Goose Island' IPA ended a fine days ride.

Compact but comfy and quite warm.

'Twas quite misty at first light which enabled a stealthy escape but the fog was lifting all around as I passed through Tummel Bridge and up another lengthy climb over to the Tay valley. The cafe at the top of the hill provided Carrot cake and coffee for breakfast - they don't serve anything savoury so needs must. I grabbed a few more snacks then set off into the strengthening sun. Next up was the famously huge climb out of Kenmore. I've not been over this for....30 years?? not far off. I was pleased to get up most of it with only the double arrow section pushed... Near the top a rider was coming the other way. I looked up at him between gasps and realised I recognised him - actually one of four of us that crammed into the breeze block hut next to the Pennine Bridleway above Widdale Head on the 2016 YD300. I even recalled his name (David) - one of the Highland crew who did the route that year. Not bad given my memory these days and very odd really as he shot past so I only had a brief glance and he was gone before I could hail him.

Last view of the hills.

My only bit of (empty) A road bashing took me to the Sma Glen and then home via more wee roads and yet another passage over the Dunning road climb!

Total distance was just over 400 miles. The bike was flawless and I'm really into single speed touring now - it can be hard work on the hills but it makes for very easy riding on the flat and much freewheeling on the many descents. Once again it was all incredibly relaxing, despite the long days, and there is plenty more to do up that way on a future trip. 

That's the easy bams over with, although I've had plenty of weather challenges this spring and summer, despite the fab weather.  The BB300 is next and I suspect my weather luck is about to run out. But after the heat of the summer I'm quite looking forward to some cool autumn bivvies.