Adventure Commuting

A chap on the Bear Bones forum recently announced he'd done an 85 mile commute to an agency nursing job, only turning up a few minutes late for his shift. On the face of it this sounds a bit optimistic but if you considered driving (or training or bussing) 85 miles to a job the chances of arriving at a specific time would be very slim. Traffic, broken down trains, cancelled services etc. etc. could stop you in your tracks. If you commute on a bike however, journey time is easily planned and it's reliability will be pretty much guaranteed. So whilst a non-cyclist (or even a fairly keen cyclist) would be appalled by such an undertaking, in reality it's actually a pretty sensible option. Not only that, it will be fun, enlightening and add substantially to your weekly mileage quota, so what's not to like.

My own bike commuting hasn't been anywhere near that distance in one outing, although timewise I've come close, thanks to a large amount of snow between my office and home on one occasion. I've commuted by bike for a lot of my adult life, either for all or part of the journey between house and office. Two jobs have prevented me for various reasons, leading to massive frustration. You tell yourself you'll get out for a ride when you get home but inevitably a late finish or crap weather leads to the couch magnet doing its work and welding your (increasingly fat) backside to its warm embrace.

For many years I've taken the shortest route between home and work to minimise the time it takes. However since getting into doing the long distance stuff, the need to get the miles in has lead to me add in extra distance to the commute. This has taken me over hills, through forests, down dales, through bogs, puddles, rivers and (of course) vast amounts of snow. So this piece is dedicated to turning a boring journey to or from work into an adventure. Yes that oft used (and oft hated) term which in my case is fair, given that on more than one occasion there has been a very real possibility I'd disappear somewhere en-route...

It all started when I got a job with Fife Council working at Lochore Meadows. I was living in Edinburgh at the time, just next to South Gyle Station. Having spent the previous two years driving to Alloa and back this represented an opportunity to use the bike for at least some of my journeys to work and a refreshing change. I settled for getting the train out and riding home - some 25 miles. A mate sold me his old MBK road bike which was ideal for this. When it's frame rusted through (on just such a commute) my mate Derek turned up an old Peugeot Tri frame which served until I actually bought a brand new road bike, the start of my roadie love affair. My miles and fitness soared, plus you were out in all weather, at all times of year so I refined kit and got better at judging what I needed to wear. Plus it was the first time I was doing bike rides going full gas for the whole journey. Why? well you were going home of course! A house move to Fife removed the need for the train and added some forest trails into the mix. Suddenly, my commute could be a mountainbike ride.

My next job lead to a gap in commuting as noted but a return to Fife Council meant the long distance commute was back on - 17 miles each way. This was when I started doing off road options as the roads weren't that great. Then an office move to Glenrothes lead to a period of crazy road riding.

My route was now 20 miles dead and I became fixated on doing it in an hour, or less. 52 minutes was my fastest time on breezy days but this was leading to increasingly dubious moves to get through traffic which even on rural roads tended to get in your way. Give ways in particular could be a cause of crucial delays so timing moves through them was critical, as well as the need to stay ahead of glaikit car drivers who seemed determined to stop at every available opportunity. Worst was the final roundabout from one dual carriageway across another, which was busy, being the A92. The best way to do it was to keep your speed up and merge with flowing traffic. Drivers in Fife aren't used to cyclists filtering so this lead to a certain amount of consternation. Not only that but work colleagues were also using this junction and a not a few commented about the suddenness and speed I was appearing in front of them. I finally got my time to below 50 minutes (48 actually!) but realised this nonsense was only going to go one way. So the road bike was ditched and I started using the train to get (most of the way) in. Going home could then be done by means of various routes with varying amounts of off road and little in the way of busy roads. My favourite took me round the outskirts of Glenrothes, and then across the Lomond hills, finishing with the quiet back road from Cleish. This was around 30-35 miles and took me between 2 1/2 to 3 1/2 hrs depending on weather, wind and time of year.

Looking across Loch Leven and the Cleish Hills in the Westering sun of the endless summer that was 2014. Most commuter shots show some hard bitten cyclist fighting their way through rush hour traffic. I hope this inspires people to find a better way home from the daily grind.

Sometimes I use the train back as far as Lochgelly and then head home by the country park and various woods. I generally only do it twice a week, or three at the most but this adds 4-8 hrs of riding into my weekly routine, and via some ace trails instead of a dull road ride. It's harder in the winter of course but whilst hoards of cyclists retreated to their turbo trainers, I'll be riding the hills on my way home from work giving me valuable training miles, speeding up my pre-ride prep (have to when you are tying in with train timetables) and refining my clothing choices. I vary my route depending on the weather and trail conditions and I figured out a couple of low level routes, including the coastal path, for when the hills are too wild. Other variations are used for dry or wet weather. If it's particularly bad I'll train it back to Dunfermline and do a ride round the West Fife and Clacks cycle and back road networks. 

Of course my work colleagues think I'm mad for doing this but compared to my normal rides, such commuting is straightforward and huge fun. The good days are when the wind is in the east and the sun beating down. Various trail improvements and route refinements meant my route has used less and less road over the years. My best effort covers 5 significant hills - East Lomond, West Lomond, Bishop Hill, Benarty Hill and Blair Adam. In fact I can add a 6th - Ben Glow in the Cleish hills although this needs some interesting route finding through fire breaks. What better way to finish the day with a fab mountainbike ride home, when everyone else is having their tea, trails are empty, the sun shining and the wind helping you on your way.

Singletrack commute

It's not always like that. Brutal headwinds, un-forecasted rain, unusually muddy trails and floods all have been encountered...

One particular ride springs to mind. This was Autumn 2017 after another below average summer. I was on the Fargo and planned to use my low level route home as the hills were likely to be a bit bleak, given the weather. I'd used this route in the January of that year on the newly built Jones. Bizarrely, I'd finished the ride with barely a spec of mud on the bike, the first of several similar rides during two weeks of unseasonably dry and mild weather. This day it was anything but. The first challenge was the narrow trail alongside the river Ore. I noticed the river looked a bit high so it wasn't a huge surprise when the trail disappeared into it. Of course I kept going thinking it would be short lived; and of course it wasn't. So wet feet and a near drowning later (slight exaggeration) I got through thinking my remaining route would be OK, being generally on made paths. Oh dear, forestry work had been going on in the woods near Cardenden and the neat singletrack was like a ploughed field. I ploughed on (it was pitch dark at this point and it didn't look too bad) only for the bike to grind to a halt as mud had totally blocked the wheels into the mudguards. I managed to clear it and eventually pick my way through. But it got worse. A section of farm track was covered with a thin layer of slurry-like water and grit. This is my least favourite kind of mud as it seems to spray everywhere. Then on the trail down the hill to Lochore Meadows I became aware of orange flashing beacons and spot lights ahead. This turned out to be a hedge cutting tractor working on the path ahead. Quite what it was doing out at 7pm on a dark Wednesday is anyone's guess but it had thoroughly churned up the path and spread thorns everywhere. On I went and when I got to the road and streetlights I surveyed the damage. The bike looked like someone had hosed it down with mud and I wasn't much better. No alternative but to keep going, waiting for the inevitable puncture from the thorns. I made it home in the event, the front tyre just starting to go soft as I rolled up the village main street.

But the winter lead to the biggest adventures. It started in 2011 when the bike seemed to the best way to make progress given the huge volume of snow clogging up the road network. Car drivers thought I was mad by the looks they gave me but I had the last laugh when they got stuck and I kept going. That year also highlighted the disadvantages of living at 140m above sea level. I'd leave a cold and snowy Dunfermline, and head west along the cycleway. But on the climb up the hill to home, the weather would get worse and worse. On the last section you were in full on winter mountain weather - blizzard conditions and brutal wind chill. Home and a hot shower was only a mile away so this was hilarious but I didn't particularly want to be the first person to die in a snow drift in West Fife....

Not the usual bike you see on a morning train...

When I got my fat bike this all became even more fun. Winter 2018 was the one with several periods of heavy snow. I've written about this before elsewhere. Suddenly there was no choice (well I could have skied) as cars were going nowhere. A fatbike is generally unstoppable in lowland snow conditions but I did test that theory to it's limits. Again work colleagues thought I was mad but I had the last laugh as their cars were buried and they were house bound. Funnily enough when I was in Finland the next year, the snow conditions were comparatively benign...

Freshies on the way home!

Wild weather on the way to work

Not my best look - after 4 hours of blizzard and headwinds

Not so nice - dark, wet and snowy...

The pandemic scuppered commuting obviously but finishing up in my home office, throwing my gear on and going for a blast round the dusty trails locally was a fine way to end the working day. As office working re-commenced I soon got back to my old ways however. I'd used the gravel bike a few times on various commutes and soon started throwing in some longer rides into the way home when I'd brought the Straggler in.

I did one the other day - a fine gravel trip home after a mixed ride / train ride in. Annoyingly, Scotrail have changed the timetable so I have to get up even earlier, and it looks like more changes are coming thanks to the Government's balls up of taking over the company. In fact I often joke I'm on the Scotrail cycling training programme. The way it works is that if Scotrail think you aren't doing enough miles, they cancel a train so you have to ride all the way in (or home), thus adding valuable extra training time. Maybe not but it did seem that cancelled trains always coincided with me deciding to take the easy option....

So I got in early and therefore obviously left early to cash in on the sunshine. I'd used the route last summer so no need for any nav. There is one busy bit up and over to the Markinch cycleway and then back roads, some cycleway and easy trails are the order of the day. A stiff breeze was blowing but across the Howe of Fife its pleasant, flat farmland with hedges and trees to shelter you from the worst of it. A reasonable road climb took me up to my route of last Saturday but I kept on up the hill to do a full traverse of Pitmedden Forest. The forest was devoid of other people, it being tea time across the nation. My stomach was rumbling a bit but it would have to wait. 

I picked up a hitch-hiker when I did this route last summer!

He seemed remarkably reluctant to let go. I could feel his claws digging into my finger!

From the forest I followed my usual route of back roads and an odd bit of trail home. The clouds had come in as it happened and I even got a spot of rain, but the last few miles were done in the westering sun. Total distance for the whole day was nigh on 60 miles. I got home at just after 8pm and relaxed in the warm glow of self righteousness that all cycle commuters feel. Not because I was single handedly saving the planet but because I'd just fried about 2000 calories over an above my 'normal' day load so could tuck into lots of food and cake, knowing I would still be behind my bodies energy demand as it recovered from the effort of a fine ride home.

May BAM

I usually do my May bivvy somewhere fairly exotic as part of a longer trip or, like last year, on the Highland Trail. In view of my non-entry in this years group start, and a possible trip at the beginning of June, I thought I would make this one fairly local. Then I got to pouring over maps and figured I'd do a variation on some of my north Fife rides, pushing right out to Tentsmuir Forest which I've bivvied in once before but always fancied doing again. Thereafter I would return via a variation of one of the many routes I've used to get to the east end of Fife over the years.

A fairly light load (no beer) given the forecast. Also first use of Wildcat mini Harness.

It started well. The forecast was for sunshine all weekend with a stiff westerly for Saturday, switching to an easterly on Sunday - i.e. my whole route would be with a tailwind. I keep thinking that I'm in for some horrible headwind bad karma given how colossally lucky I've been in the last few years, wind wise (CL2020 excepted), but I do keep getting these bonus wind switches. Maybe it's making up for all the headwind misery I suffered as a youth!

I left just after 12 and headed north to the hills. I'd scoped a few trails out in the woods near Path of Condie with the potential to link through from the Dunning Road to P of C itself. This went remarkably well, the dry trails helping. So I celebrated with an early lunch reveling in the feeling of sitting in the sun, in a bit of grassland / woodland, with no biting insects. If only I knew what was coming....

Vague line through the grass - this could be a bit 'deep' later in the year...

I then threaded together a fine route east via Pitmedden Forest and some of its ace single track, a few other core paths and trails, and the Fife Coastal Path, linked by a few very quiet backroads. This route roughly follows the hills that border the fair Kingdom of Fife, overlooking the Tay estuary. It's a real mix of trails, with some really nice riding, plenty of ups and downs and fine views. 

Lindores Loch and the hills of Perthshire in the haze behind.

On one of the nicest sections of the northern part of the FCP - Looking back to the remote community of Glenduckie. It's actually only a 100m off the A913 but always seems like the land that time forgot. In the foreground is a terrace of farm cottages only accessible by a rough track.

After some road riding the coastal path drops down to the estuary shore and follows a fab noodly, rooty single track through the woods. Other than a couple of families having barbies on the shingle I had the trail to myself. 

I missed the last section beyond Balmerino as this is quite steppy and has a few annoying kissing gates, but it was a short hop up to the road to miss it. Looking at the map afterwards there are maybe a couple of other trail options along this bit although these would miss Wormit and Newport out.

The Silvery Tay and the rail bridge that is the subject of no less than three poems by William McGonagall (One celebrating the first bridge, one describing its collapse and a third celebrating the replacement i.e. this one!)

I wanted to go through Newport as I was needing food, given how light I was travelling. I spied the 'Fifie' chippy and procured a particularly fine fish supper which I wolfed down whilst sat in the evening sun. Timings had worked out to perfection as a few short road and cycleway miles saw me entering Tentsmuir Forest at 8pm and along to a bivvy spot I'd used a few years ago. That's where it all went horribly wrong.

First of all my digestive system announced it's demands and as soon as I stopped a cloud of mosquitos appeared in force. Of course I had neither a head net or any form of repellant so was totally at their mercy. I considered moving on to another spot to bivvy but I couldn't think of anywhere else close by and I figured the mozzies would be everywhere in any case.

I moved out of the grass and under some trees thinking this would be better. It wasn't. After dithering some more I set to and threw up the tarp as quick as I could. There then followed a variation of my usual pre ride faff, this time with insect bites!  I dived into the bivvy bag then got back out to rescue my specs and head torch, then dived back in. Then I got out again and rescued my phone and dived back in. Then I got out one more time and rescued my whisky (which was essential) finally getting into the bag and staying in. So much for my well practiced and slick routine... In the event I seemed to be inside alone, with the mozzies outside; so had a fairly peaceful evening. However despite wearing my beanie and throwing my cycling shirt over my head, the little ba*stards still severally stung my head through the bivvy bag mesh and both layers. Eventually I crashed out to the sound of a million (well a hundred or so) buzzing mosquitos.

The dawn chorus was deafening and the mozzie buzzing still hadn't let up, dashing my hopes that as the temps dropped over night they would hide in the grass. In fact it had stayed warm enough that even my lightweight quilt was a bit much. After lying awake for a while I realised that sleep was impossible and my bladder was making it's demands so packed up as quick as I could and departed post haste.

Bivvy shot taken after I'd torn the tarp down...

A few miles down the trail I stopped as I was out of the woods. Lo and behold no mozzies (should have bivvied here!) so I got the stove out and made breakfast. Of course as I was sitting eating it, the midges appeared, somewhat early for these eastern climbs. I wandered around to avoid them, packed up for the second time and cleared off.

Morning sun over Tentsmuir. The whole forest is very low lying and very boggy in places, probably why it's such a Mosquito haven!

My route home was a bit easier and as predicted, an easterly wind was building to assist me on my way. I departed the coastal path at Leuchars and headed back roughly through the middle of Fife following a few bits of easy trail and various back roads. Cupar was deserted at 8.30 am but the Gregs had just opened so I sat on the High Street having a leisurely second breakfast, entirely bug free. I headed across the flats of the Howe of Fife but figured on heading through the Lomond Hills on one of my usual routes home for a bit of interest and further good riding. The trails were bone dry, although the sun of the early morning had gradually given way to cloud and at one point the rain came on. But oddly enough it cleared for the final miles and I even had some sunshine. 

Total distance was a creditable 195k and I felt quite weary. If I'd bothered to look at the GPS I could have made it a round 200. In fact I've been doing some fiddling with GPX tracks and hatched a route following my outward route of Saturday and returning by the Pilgrims Way route I'd ridden out on at Midsummer in 2020. This would come in at just over the 200k mark with about 3500m of climbing. I might have a crack at this in a oner - the Kingdom 200!

Top of the last big hill looking back to the gloomy lomonds over which I'd just ridden.

As I type this a large number of bumps all over my body are itching madly...

Deeside Holiday reprised

I've just been up to Deeside for a few days starting with a 'tour' of the upper 2/3rds of the Deeside Trail. As usual the weather in the week before my holiday was glorious however the forecast was for cool temps, cloud and varying amounts of rain.... My plans had been fluid as usual but Friday looked like it was to be sunny, Saturday dry at first with rain later and thereafter possibly dry. So I figured on a couple of days bikepacking followed by some walking and maybe a day ride or two. I even went as far as booking a campsite for a couple of nights finishing with a night in Ballater at the Alexandra Hotel. So I hoofed it up to Braemar Friday morning on quiet roads ahead of the bank holiday rush with a car load of various stuff to hopefully enable a range of outdoor activities and accommodation... 

As promised the sun was shining so after loading up the bike and having a Co-op breakfast I headed out on the Deeside Trail. As previously reported this is a fine route round the periphery of the Dee valley starting in Banchory. The upper section is the wildest and features a few of my favourite trails hereabouts. I planned on following it for as far as I could be bothered, bivvy somewhere then head back to Braemar by a suitable route, depending on the rain tomorrow. The sun was hot up the days first (of many) nadgery singletrack out of the town. This persisted past Mar Lodge and up Glen Lui.

Mar Lodge seems to have been done up since I last passed through here. I'm not actually sure what the NTS do with it as you can't get in as far as I can tell....

Singletrack number two is a lovely trail through a narrow defile - The Clais Fearnaig. After a short but steepish climb it levels out and is nadge central - proper trials riding! The Jones was in its element with the rider not far behind.... 

When last I rode this the descent was fab but I'd notice a load of aggregate bags by the trail side hinting at work to be done. This seemed odd as the trail was narrow, stony and obviously saw little use. It's now been worked on in the usual NTS style i.e. lots of water bars and channels but I expect it will soon erode back to it's natural state like the trail up Glen Derry.

Heading up the Quoich water the cloud was starting to build, somewhat at odds with the sunny day predicted. The Cairngorm massif was in view with a fair bit of snow still evident. My desire to ride the Lairig Ghru is still present and had been an option for this weekend but I want to do it in good weather so sticking to the periphery of these cloud holding hills seemed a better bet. The trail out of the Quoich water is lovely threading its way through Scots pine woodland. A fair few trees had been clobbered by Storm Arwen but the trail was largely clear. Emerging out of the woods revealed more cloud and rain making the surrounding hills looked somewhat foreboding. I'd also idly considered Ben Avon in the proceedings but was happy to pass it by. 

Now my next mission was to find the secret howff - that infamous stone and tin shelter that still seems to be a secret, a miracle in these days of the internet. I'd figured out where it was from aerial photo research (and some guess work) and given the incoming rain I figured it would make a fine stop for lunch. 

So much for my research. I wasted half an hour looking for it finally realising I'd failed yet again and my confident location marker on the GPS was a bum steer. (Edit - since getting back I've had a further look and realised I was on the wrong side of the valley. Quite how I managed this is a worry, hinting at further depredations of age...) So I went back a ways and made do with the 'clach' at the top of the pass for a lunch stop. 

Heading up the trail saw the first spots of rain, typical given I was about to climb up over a short moor crossing to Glen Gairn. It was coming and going so no big deal and I cracked on eagerly anticipating my favourite trail hereabouts. The single track descent down the Gairn is a classic rocky trail presenting some great challenges with nice riding between. It's showing signs of a lot more use than it did when I first rode it in 2013 but it's none the worse for it, being more rock than bog! The cold drizzle was coming and going with an odd flurry of hail but I ignored it and got stuck in.

Looking back up the glen. The burns flowing off Ben Avon were a bit high, being fed by melting snow still, but I crossed without issue. The final crossing of the Gairn was a different story. The footbridge is long gone and the crossing point a bit deep looking. I could have stepped across on rocks just up stream but as usual I figured I could ride the ford and plunged in. Literally as the front wheel pinged off a large rock and in went a foot. I managed to get back going but now with one damp sock. Not too bad as my new boots had kept most of the water out and the sky was clearing again so it would soon dry out.

On the leisurely cruise down the lower half of the glen I realised I'd not seen a soul since leaving Glen Lui. I can't imagine this area will ever get 'busy' given it's remote-ness. In fact I'd say its mainly bikes using the area these days as it figures on a few routes. Stomping along a big track on shanks pony isn't a lot of fun (see below) so it makes sense really. As if by magic an older couple appeared on the inevitable E bikes, obviously out for a day ride. This is something of a recent phenomena as you are seeing these type of people in many places that would have been to far to get to on foot or a normal bike. It occurred to me that this is exactly the kind of people you want in these places as it diverts opinion away from the idea that mountainbikers are all young people out to rip up the trails. Many would happily see such types coralled in trail centres but its going to be hard to try to exclude respectable middle aged people!

The DT follows a nice trail and back road which misses most of the A939 down to Ballater. I sat on the village green eating a large amount of Co-op food whilst contemplating my options. It was still pretty cloudy so the big moor crossing out of Tarland seemed a bit much. I figured I'd follow the route to there at least as it is different to what I did in '17. Thereafter there were plenty of options to cut across to the other side of the glen and pick up the outward route. This plan went quickly awry in the woods of Cambus of May. Its part Forestry and Land Scotland (nee FCS) and partly Nature Scot (nee SNH.) Storm Arwen had clearly done its damage as there were trees down everywhere. I'd seen much other evidence of this already so it was most annoying that neither FLS or NS have managed to clear the trails some five months after this storm passed through. I spent some considerable time picking my way round fallen trees. Where the route leaves the track into singletrack it was worse and I realised this would likely lead to a death march so kept on the track seeing as it made a beeline for the road. More fallen trees nearly scuppered this plan but I got out eventually only to see a sign (in the other direction) indicating the track was closed, but without any indication of a diversion. Pretty rubbish really as Nature Scot (this was their bit) should be resourced enough to get this all cleared 5 months after the storm hit - I may write a polite but firm letter....

Anyway a bit of road riding and one track got me back on route in time for the Tarland Trail centre which is a hoot. Maybe not the best thing to do when loaded up (I know from experience that trying to do jumps with bags on is a really bad idea.) But I 'sent' the Jones down a few humps and bumps with only a few bangs of protest from the bike (and me) to the village. Now it occurred to me that what I really wanted was a pint, rather than a big hill climb. One pub in the village center looked OK but round the corner was a more homely place with nobody in. Hoorah - that'll be a pint please whilst I check out the weather forecast. Good news - it was to be dry all evening and the rain tomorrow looked like it wouldn't get down here until the afternoon. So plan B was engaged - head down to Aboyne, across the Dee and into Glen Tanar woods for a bivvy. Tomorrow I'd follow the DT back to Braemar, hopefully getting back before the rain came on too hard.

What do you do if you see a good pub when on holiday? Go in of course. The Boat inn is a good place with plenty ales on at a price. I sat outside and chatted to a local guy who had an extremely strong North East accent (not helped by him being absolutely wrecked) requiring some concentration to figure out. Fortunately I'm good at strong North Eastern (English) accents so I could follow most of what he was telling me. He was full of tales of drunken pub crawls by bike when he was a youth but was bemoaning the fact that most of the pubs he'd used were now shut. Alarmingly he stated he had an e-bike which only got used to take him to the local. Interestingly he said he'd just retired from a local sawmill in which he'd worked all his life. It occurred to me that his generation could do that hereabouts - get a good local job near your home, work all your days earning enough to live modestly but comfortably and retire on the state pension. I suspect that such a life is no longer possible in the modern world although recent events suggest that using a local based supply chain would solve an awful lot of the problems we are facing. I doubt if any politico is capable of making that leap of faith however....

Finally (and slightly pished) I pedaled off into the gloaming heading for a bivvy spot I'd used in 2011, deep in the woods of Glen Tanar. There is nothing like a long steady climb at the end of a long day (on singlespeed.) In the event I found a much better spot just before I reached my target - a level and grassy area by the burn - perfect. Up went the tarp, kettle on, cook and eat food, drink whisky. A fine end to a day of excellent riding and actually pretty good weather.

It was a dry night and I slept like a log as usual. I woke to the sun which was a pleasant surprise. My route would take around four or five hours so I was in no rush. After a very leisurely start I carried on up the trail only to encounter a barrier across the track and a sign telling me I couldn't go any further as a male Capercaillie was in residence. Funnily enough this same thing happened when I was here in 2011. I did what I did then - carried on. The sign suggested that any passer by would lead said bird to attack them, wasting energy. What? Capers do famously go for people leading to many instances of tourists in Speyside getting selfies with these famously ugly birds (think a turkey) in full flow. But the Firmounth is a ROW and Core path so whoever had put this barrier up was well out of order. Plus no diversion, no nothing. As with 2011 I asked a rhetorical question to the person who'd put the sign up - now what do I do? go back, go round? I wondered what would happen if you'd come over the Firmounth from Glen Esk - you'd see the closure and go back over this large and bleak moor right? Err no. Further up the track I paused to check my nav and was aware of a 'clacking' sound from a tree nearby. I grinned to myself as I knew exactly what this was. Sure enough.....

One of the worlds ugliest birds, give me a buzzard any day. It fluttered down to the track in front of me and was clearly after a rammy, so I snapped this shot and cleared off. I don't really see the problem with this, making the closure even stupider. In fact it would likely just attract more people whereas the best solution - do nothing - would mean that most people would pass through oblivious. Or they could put up some useful info like a sign saying to keep moving if the bird was encountered as all it wants is to be left alone. At least by humans that is, all it actually wants is a female caper but these seemed absent which means it's not looking good for this chap, whatever the views of the local conservationists are.

The halfway hut was looking even more dilapidated. Most of these informal bothies seem to attract some local maintenance but this one looks like its days are numbered which is a shame. This and the 'closed' path smack of an anti access vibe which does seem to be permeating certain areas in the last couple of years. Leaving Glen Tanar on the big climb over to the Dee it was clear that rain was incoming. I cracked on in a bid to beat it and had more singletrack fun down by the Dee to Ballater once more. The wind was also on the rise on the long run up Glen Muik and inevitably the first spots of rain came on, on the monster climb past Lochnagar.

This was a solid push but I hammered the descent to keep warm in the now cold drizzle. Finally it was the nice track through QE2's back garden then the road back to Braemar. I was happy as it had been mostly dry overhead and the trails were really dry. 160k done in total and some fab riding.

Singlespeed is definitely hard work round here as a lot of the climbs are steady but long. It's just a case of making yourself get off and walk!

The rain came and went I as drove down to my chosen campsite - Feughside just out of the Dee valley near Banchory. Pitching a tent in the rain is never a good thing but it was up quick enough and after the confines of the Deschutes, luxury.

Sunday dawned somewhat damp and misty but there were hints of it clearing so I got my gear together for a long walk. I've biked over Mount Battock and the eastern Mounth a couple of times now and I fancied a wander to explore these rolling bumps. After a bit of parking faffing (the downside of hill walking) a climbed out of the woods to a locally popular bump - Clachnaben. 

'Clach' is an old Scots word for a large rock formation, much like Torr in Devon and they are similar things that are scattered across the eastern end of the Cairngorms. The most famous ones are the huge clachs on the high plateau of Ben Avon. These were in the cloud today as was the top of Mount Battock, my destination. The track along the ridge had recently been done up by the looks leading me to think I'd have been better off with the bike. It made for easy walking but it's rather hard on the feet. That said, the landscape is covered in vast peat hags so without the track it would have been a mission. I took shelter from the cold wind in a shooting hut for lunch then finished the climb in scudding cloud. So much for the view....

After some route rumination (my plan to traverse further hills back to the car looked a dubious prospect given the preponderance of peat hags) I dropped off the hill on a vague path heading for a route back to Glen Dye. Some nav faffing and a fair bit of heather bashing got me to yet another big track. Oh well, I'd little choice but to march on. At least the sun was now shining - once again I'd summited an hour early - so I tramped down the glen, stopped for a snack at Charr bothy (which has been re-decorated since my last visit,) abandoned a plan to climb back over to the days first hill as a 'short cut' and finished my tramp round to the road and the car. I was a bit shocked to find I'd actually done 20 miles, my longest walk for some considerable time. Other than being a bit footsore I was in remarkably good shape. Maybe I will do the West Highland Way!

Luxury digs and sunshine to boot

Tea was cooked and eaten in the sun but Monday dawned to more mist. Ballater was my destination but on a whim I parked up at Aboyne figuring on doing a bit of a classic circuit on the Firmounth and Fungle Road, both routes I'd done loaded previously so it would be nice to do on a bare bike as the Fungle road featured a couple of ace single track descents. Of course this would take me back through yon Capercaillies domain. On the climb I passed two couples walking and another on bikes. I wonder if they would follow the notice or, more likely proceed with cameras at the ready!

Sure enough, there he was perched at the side of the track. I waved a greeting and carried on up the climb, out of the woods and over what is a large moor. I'd vaguely recalled it went on for some time - a classic traverse where the steep climb is dispensed with only for another hill to present itself, then another and another. More trackwork has been done since my last visit although one natural (and rather boggy) section remains. 

Looking into Glen Esk with my local hills just visible in the distance. I noted that Mount Battock was cloud free and there were even hints of Lochnagar and Ben Avon in the distance. After a short descent you turn back on yourself on the Fungle road.

I pondered the origins of its name but even Neil Ramsey's book on the Mounth roads states that no one really knows. Likely it's a derivation of an old Scotts word or name for a hill that has evolved over the years into a word that bears no resemblance to its origin. 

The first part of the descent is on a well made path that seems to have stood the test of time as it was new in 2011 when I first passed through. The path along the glen bottom has been widened to more smooth doubletrack but the route at the head of the Birse is a still a vague line round some woods. I sat in here eating food and planned another bikepacking foray through these hills. They are a good choice as the trails are generally good going and there is some nice single track. The challenge is many big hills to climb but there is nothing too horrible for anyone with a bit of leg, or a low gear (or singlespeed and good walking boots). I've found adopting a mix of pushing and riding as the terrain and your energy levels vary, is the secret to making progress. Speaking of which I pushed up the steep climb out of the Birse and joined the DT for the last time. This takes you down a section of narrow, rutted and rooty singletrack to the 'Guard' - a house on it's own in the woods. At the top of this I chatted to a group of lads on ebikes whose attention had been drawn to the Jones' odd lines. Locals by the sounds and we exchanged much chat about the good bike riding to be had in this area. I even thought to myself that this would make a fine place to retire to. Not sure what house prices are like mind....

I was hailed by a couple of blokes walking down the trail just before the Guard. It was Colin Calder and his mate, recognising me from the Cairngorms Loop group start in September 2020. He'd been singlespeed too and we'd both exchanged gear ratio notes and tales of the horror of the wind on the last 70k. Quite how you meet someone only met once before, and recognises you, is one of those things that never cease to amaze. Of course the Jones at least is instantly recognisable, even if I'm not!

Ironically on the final track descent, there was quite a bit of water from the rain on Sunday and this got liberally sprayed all over me and the bike, despite it having remained remarkably clean to this point, thanks to the dry trails. Only 40k but a fine route and no rain!

My short holiday finished with a night of luxury in the Alexandra hotel in Ballater. I'd discovered this place on my post HT17 camping holiday as it had Tradewinds on hand pump and seemed a nice spot for a few pints. I'd been meaning to stay since but never got round to it. Pretty reasonable too at £50 B&B, not much more than the nearby Hostel, which I've stayed in a few times but these days I'm done with dorms!

So a good trip all in all. I'm definitely going to do the full Deeside Trail at some point, having failed to do it so far, despite several other times where I'd told people I wanted to do it. I'm also going to reprise my Mounth Roads tour of 2011/16 at some point but this time a) do the whole lot and b) avoid campsites and bothies!