Scottish Winter Bivvy '23

A weather warning for heavy rain across the whole weekend didn't fill me with much enthusiasm for this trip. Memories of last years effort where only Jimmy made it to our bothy after an epic hike through deep snow loomed large in my mind. A quick message round to get contact numbers in case people couldn't make it (and leave someone on their own) and to convince ourselves it would be fine, got me motivated. The venue for this year was another Borders bothy - Greenskes at the southern edge of Craik forest. One I'd not visited before and would mean a dry night in front of a fire rather than cowering under a tarp.

In the event, come Saturday morning the weather looked a lot dryer, for the afternoon and evening at least. So I packed up the bike, threw it in the car and had an easy run down to Moffat. By the time I'd had a snack and got myself organised the rain was a light drizzle and actually made for a pleasant run down quiet roads to Wamphray and the climb over to Boreland. The bike felt somewhat heavy, given I was carrying two fire logs and a few cans of beer. I was in no hurry so plodded up at low speed, the drizzle coming and going.

Deja vu as I passed through Boreland thinking of last years December bivvy in Dryfehead in remarkably similar weather... That said by the time I'd got up the climb and was contemplating Craik and Castle O'er forests the rain had gone off completely and there was even a hint of blue sky.

Darkness fell as I passed the monastery at Eskdalemuir, looking even more out of place than usual on a damp December evening.... Then into the woods on a route I'd plugged into the GPS to avoid too much nav faffing. That said, I can no longer read the screen without my reading glasses - I think I need a bigger screen...

The first few k had been well tracked by timber wagons and was rather mucky but I was quite happy, despite the lack of views and dark woods all around. At one point I passed a house all on it's own, right in the middle of the forest. The noise of the generator must surely detract from living in such a quiet spot. I looked in the window as I trundled past and noticed a bloke sitting by a fire with headphones on! After this the track improved for the last miles and finally I descended down to the bothy. At one point I spied red lights ahead which I couldn't fathom. Finally I twigged - they were navigation warning lights on distant wind turbines and not a gaggle of cyclists up ahead! As usual I wondered what the reception at the bothy would be - nobody, just Justin (hopefully) or a gang of numpties... Lights were on and as well as Justin from the BB forum in one room, three lads from Newcastle were in the other but like us were bothy regulars. Justin had the fire going and the kettle on so I had a hot brew and then un-packed.

Annoyingly one my cans of beer had burst, soaking spare gloves and tarp plus my rear light had gone AWOL. Funnily enough the same happened last year - I need to sort out a proper beer carrier!

Anyway much chat followed. Justin has a bamboo bike he made himself from a kit supplied by the Bamboo Bicycle Club in London. I have to say I'm mightily tempted by one of these, especially as they can be set up singlespeed! Dave appeared soon after, heroically bringing some coal which got the fire going much better. Then Jimmy appeared with another fire log and some dry wood so we had a merry blaze and much chat, drink and good cheer until we all crashed out just before 12.

It was dry the next morning as we got our selves together. Justin scooted off early to get his train and I left after a leisurely breakfast. At the gate up the hill a pick up truck was just passing through. The driver hailed me as he was the bothy maintenance manager and wanted to know if the bothy was OK. I let him know all was well and off they went. This is good stuff as I've heard of a few problems with neds occupying and trashing the borders bothies, given how accessible they are, so nice to see it getting this level of attention. As I climbed back up the hill, a few spots of rain came on, only for me to remember that my overtrousers were still hanging up in the bothy!

Teeth grinding followed but I really needed them and there was no guarantee the others would find them. So back we go and sure enough, there they were. After a second goodbye to Jimmy and Dave I was off again. Then, just after the first bend, I spied my rear light lying right in the middle of the track! I'd missed it the first time up the climb so me forgetting my waterproofs was fortuitous.

This also enabled me to go back to my original plan to ride out to Jamestown and down to the lower reaches of the Esk. This was a much nicer track than the forest route and there then followed some fine back roads to Eskdalemuir and a retracing of my route of the previous day from there.

The drizzle had been on and off all morning but on the last miles it got steadily heavier until it reached full on downpour status when I got back to the car. So all in all a successful trip and a fine completion of BAM 2023.

November BAM

I'd a notion to do some gravel bashing up by Loch Rannoch to check out a wrecked bridge on the HT route for this one, but as usual I couldn't be bothered driving so loaded up the straggler and headed out after work on Friday eve. 50 odd k of easy pedaling up to Callander followed on my usual route. It was quite chilly (-2) at home but the temps crept up above freezing by the time I got to Callander. So nothing special but a relaxing way to finish the week. Best of all the weather was looking to be stunning, again! Pie and chips in Callander were eaten sat on a bench on the main street and the co-op provided a beer for later.  

I'd roughly scoped a potential bivvy spot in the woods above the cycleway by Kilmahog with an option to bash on if I fancied. But it was nearly 9pm so went with plan A. A large number of camper vans in the car park at the start of the track made me worry my night would be disturbed by generators, fires and music (quite why you would want to cram into a car park with a camper van, alongside a load of others is totally beyond me) but all was quiet as I pedaled a couple of k up the hill to where I thought would be a good spot. As usual, in the dark it all looked a bit iffy. Eventually I spied an area of dense-ish pine trees just by the track so piled in and after a bit of wandering about around various fallen trees and through a bog found a perfect spot. Unroll bivvy bag, inflate mat, dive in, sip whisky, read book, relax! On the strength of a 0% chance of rain forecast, I didn't bother with the tarp (7th time this year!) but the forecast also said little or no wind and it got pretty breezy at one point. Stars were all around so I crashed out, fairly confident I wouldn't get a soaking. Thermorest quilt super cozy.

8hrs solid sleep followed. I woke to the sun peering over the Menteith hills opposite. Up and out sharpish (such that I forgot to photo the bivvy) and off up the glen on the track. This took me high above Loch Lubnaig and will make a fine alternative to the cycleway which can be a bit busy with peds on a normal Saturday. That said it was deserted at this early hour and this continued to Strathyre.

Mist boiling off the falls of Lenny. I'd an inkling there might be an inversion hence my high level spot and the breeze kept everything dry.

Annoyingly I was 25 minutes early for the cafe at Strathyre but they were setting up and the helpful owner came out and suggested I try the place up at Kingshouse. In the event I grabbed a coffee and a pie at the shop and sat out in the sun.

Sun! (and snow on Stobbinein)

Sure enough, a few k up the trail at Kingshouse, the cafe cum pub was open and I fancied a fry up, having not brought the stove. £15! it was pretty good but what a rip off.... Suitably fortified I vowed not to eat anything else until Bankfoot, some 100k away.

Fine viaduct on the cycleway (again - I always take this pic) and as usual a good blast down to Killin. Thereafter I had a fairly easy run along Loch Tay and then down the Tay strath on NCN7. All fairly mundane after some of my rides this year but very pleasant in the autumn sunshine, the loch below and snow frosted hills opposite. And actually very little traffic - I seem to have been plagued by cars on normally empty back roads of late - really not sure why, so this made a nice change. Finally at Bankfoot I raided the shop I'd used on my September tour and then followed the same route home.

Sunset over Ben Ledi and Vorlich - my bivvy spot was just below these. It was quite nice going over the Dunning road in the dark. Of concern was the temperature: -3 and a sparkle of frost on the road but I took it fairly steady and got home at half 6, some 10 hours and 170k after leaving my bivvy spot that morning, making a total trip length of 235k! Actually my longest none ITT bivvy of the year.

So a good outing with lots of lovely Autumnal colours. After my soggy ride of last month and last Novembers dampness this made a nice change. Just December to do, hopefully on the Bearbones Scottish winter bivvy.

October BAM

I did technically bivvy on the BB300, but I figured on something a bit more relaxing for my official October BAM. The last two years it's been dry and mild for my October bivvy in my favourite woodland spot off the Dunning road but the weather looked less than conducive to such a thing. I mean I could have (a la March) but I was fancying a shed. Two options were available - the bird hide I'd kipped in, in February; or, the wooden gazebo (complete with wood burning stove) at Falkland estate which I'd last used in 2019. This seemed a better bet, given the stove, but in case it was already occupied, the Loch Leven bird hide would be plan B (Plan C was go back home and use my BB bivvy for October!) 

In the event, after a dampish start, the rain went off and the moon appeared. I'd full waterproofs on but figured if I took them off the rain would come on again, but in fact it stayed dry all the way to the spot. I did a recce from a distance but all was quiet. A quick stomp down a grassy track, over the barbed wire fence and we were there. The teepees have gone but there seemed to be more sheds - another toilet shed, plus a storage shed as well as a toilet tent and a couple of those horrible cheapo pop-up tents (unoccupied). But the big timber gazebo was as it had been when I last used it. 

So in with the bike, a quick recce for fire wood (I found a lot of bags of dry logs, I figured a few wouldn't be missed) light fire, settle in for a drafty evening reading and drinking a few beers.

Mighty fine. It wasn't actually that cold, but when you are sat out, the rain is hammering down (it started about a half hour after I arrived) and it's dark, it is actually quite pleasant sitting in front of a hot stove!

Eventually I turned in and had a decent kip, despite forgetting my pillow, waking to a grey dawn and various tweety birds. I dozed for a bit then realised it was 8am, so I had better make tracks before anyone came along to see what the lights were the previous night. In the event I had a leisurely breakfast and departed at 9.

There is a fab bakery at Falkland (Helen's) which supplied a divine bacon and haggis roll, one of the best double biscuits I've ever tasted and a cup of tea. It had rained as I left the bivvy but it dried up for breakfast!

There then followed various backroads and trails, oft used but today very wet. I ventured into Pitmedden forest and took some random turns to check out new trails.

Not ideal on a SS gravel bike. I could have gotten down it but not up. The rain was on in earnest...

Finally, on the last miles, the clouds broke and I actually finished in the sunshine! So all in all a good ride. More horrible weather is to come so I'm glad I bagged this one. November next and possibly something a bit further a field if the weather picks up...

2023 Bear Bones 300, into the big green desert

The alarm wakes me with a start. After a pause to assimilate where I am and what I'm doing here, I immediately start thinking of reasons to drop back off to sleep, but this isn't constructive to the current undertaking so I try to think of reasons why I should get going - actually 100 reasons - 100k still to do on this forbidding route...

I knew what was coming when I reviewed the route and ID'd a few big moor crossings around and south of the Elan valley, hinting at BB200's of old that had caused a deal of distress. This is a vast area of upland wilderness bigger than anywhere in the UK out of Scotland. It even rivals areas such as the Cairngorms in terms of lack of habitation, with only reservoirs and forestry intruding into its periphery, preventing a 'biggest UK wilderness' contender. In the event, these parts of the route would be the least of my problems!

The start was good, catching up with Karl and his mate plus George in the pub in Carno the night before, plus Bob at the start in Llanbrynmair. I got going at 7.20am, keen to make the most of the daylight. Catching Bob up the road allowed me to keep the pace down as we chatted before the steepening grade made it's demands and off I went with a wave. Hafren, as is often the case on this route, provided the first trails and a taste of things to come - a vague line through dense sitka straight up a bars above head climb. There is an easy alternative to this but we aren't here for easy alternatives...

Easy but damp bridleway followed, having been well ridden by trail bikes, a problem that would also feature heavily, and a fab grassy descent. I was swapping places with George and Tom who I'd met on the North York Moors 300, idly chatting about what was to come. If only we knew! Juice at Llangurig then off again into a breezy but brightening day.

Ahh yes the weather. So in 2021 it was dry for most of the BB200. In 2022 it was properly sunny all weekend. So after that, plus a sunny Highland Trail and NYM300 this year I was gobsmacked that the weather was going to be warm (hot!) and sunny all weekend. Plans to carry proper bivvy kit and prepping for heavy weather were binned for my usual super lightweight set up. That said, it had rained a lot in the run up and I'd no idea what the implications of this would be in the coming miles...

So into the green desert, as this vast area of upland grassland and bog is known. Three short moorland crossings gave a good flavour - steep climbs, vague lines, but some good riding to boot. I'd done a bit of ground proofing of the route on aerials which did help me keep on track but the presence of others (and lots of tyre prints) was a far better nav aid than a GPS! I bumped into Pete Aylward at the start of moor number two. I'd last seen him in Fort A on the Highland Trail so we had a quick catch up before cracking on. Much steepness to Craig Goch dam and the shock of lots of people! It's quite impressive right enough.

That said the loo was of more interest plus my first feed at K70. Then off down an old railway line signed as an NCN8. somewhat wet for such things though - what happened to the 4m wide tarmac then! Other people featured heavily on this trail but they were nowhere near the next - a straight and steep push up the hillside and over moor number three, but on a nice easy trail, albeit with an 'interesting' finish.

Then the crux - Esgair Garthen, 9k of upland moor with bog and tussock a'plenty. The climb was easy at least and early indications were promising - grassy trail interspersed with boggy bits. This then progressed to boggy trail interspersed with grassy bits, then it progressed to a bog interspersed with boggy trail as it descended into a vast area of swampland. I was at least following a well defined trail that some brave sole had taken a quad bike along. After a bit I realised I was off line but I managed to get back on it via more vague quad track which was actually pretty good going.

I noted a figure behind as I got back on track and we waved quick greetings before ploughing on. A keen eye and a quick foot got me through the worst of it, wondering how long it would last. Of course it always gets much worse before it gets better. The trail, such as it was, vagued into a sea of tussocks and swamp. To my right looked horrendous (actually where the OS showed the bridleway) but to the left grassy gnolls poked out of the swamp and their steep slopes looked to offer better going. So with a heave out of the bog I was making progress again and actually picked my way round the worst of it with only minor damp bits and some extreme tussocks!

Finally it was more grass than bog. After a breezy and overcast start, the sun was now shining in earnest and the wind a cooling breeze.

As I looked up two red kites were circling. I'd seen loads of them all day and all like this pair - seemingly curious about this strange apparition invading their territory. They were entirely unfazed by my presence, looking down at me as they floated effortlessly over the terrain I'd just battled through. So on we go, glad to have that bit done. Grassy tracks followed and then Strata Florida, both the place and the route. 

The place was deserted and the toilets shut - bad news as I could have done with them for water as much as a rest. Fortunately the helpful person in the visitor center directed me to a tap attached to a farm steading. Re-supply had presented a few dilemmas. There was a shop at 40k, a 24hr spar at 200k (as featured in last years route) and at 150k another shop open until 10. But I really wasn't sure I'd make this in time as 150k could well equal 15 hours or more on this terrain. I'd food in reserve but no water filter based on getting water here, and maybe a couple of burns if I really needed to. So I brimmed the bladder plus a bottle I'd stashed in my back pocket, figuring this should see me to K200 at a push.

Then Strata Florida the route, an old Roman road. I'd seen pics of this years ago (It's in the Rough Stuff fellowship photo journal) plus spoken to someone who'd ridden a '40's rigid Ariel motorcycle down it so I knew it was wet in places and a bit rough but should be OK and allow good progress. 

The first inkling of doom appeared on the climb - some pretty tricky rocky / slatey step ups with big puddles in between. When it levelled out the full doom was revealed - long, long flooded sections of uncertain depth. I managed to get through a couple by dint of hanging onto the banks and winching through with one pedal and a damp boot, but dry feet. But they got bigger and bigger. I was trying to preserve dry feet at all costs as if they got wet they would freeze overnight. This required picking my way past the bigger floods off line. What was worse, the muppets riding trail bikes had tried to do the same so the ground either side of the trail was ploughed to oblivion and a total swamp. My only salvation was being able to scamper across banks far too steep for a motorbike. Gaiters also were a dry foot saver! Worse, I couldn't help noticing the smooth forest track which seemed to parallel large parts of the route. Once again the easy alternative was ignored...

I could feel my sense of humour slipping. Earlier, I'd passed a series three landrover - battered but standard and driven by someone who seemed to know what they were doing. Just after a bunch of folk on newish 'adventure' motorbikes had come towards me and I figured the trail couldn't be that bad if they had ridden it. In hindsight I think they had probably turned back and the landrover driver didn't know what was coming. It looked like a fair bit of work had gone into the track at some point in the past but this was long since wrecked. Although the floods had firm bases, there were rocks a plenty hidden in the murk so trying to ride through, wet feet or no would likely result in a muddy, smelly bath.

This is the track. And the river. Yes, to cap it all, enough idiots had short-cutted into the river for more of a challenge to erode it's banks such that it was flowing down the track. Actually this was OK - just a case of following the flow. An old trials riding tip came back to me - ride along the bit with the strongest current as it will have knocked any loose rocks out the way. This continued until the junction of a burn and the main river floored me. There was no way through and it looked properly deep - thighs at least! After much faffing I tore off gaiters, boots and socks and paddled across a bit of the river upstream from the carnage. Good, I beat that bit. But the next bit, a half mile further on, nearly beat me. I figured I could paddle it but the rocks were treacherous and the water got into my boots. Thank goodness for waterproof socks!

Finally, after two tricky but dry ridden river crossings, the track climbed away from the valley bottom and joined a wider forest track. Cruising down this, I wondered what the future of this route was. The track was technically open for all users but a walker would have no chance unless they were wearing waders. Despite having a degree of sympathy for the off-roaders, this level of damage is nonsense on a right of way. It either needs upgraded to a forest road or else ban the vehicles and do a light touch job to sort the flooding. The 'challenges' for the vehicles could then be provided away from the general populace as per the old permit system. The problem is, in the good old days, trail riders were on shonky old trials bikes and the 4 wheelers in shonky old landrovers. And there weren't many of them. Now it looks like everyone in the UK is descending on Wales to ride or drive off-road and it can't take it. Worse, it's obvious that locals aren't satisfied with this and are hitting any bridleway and path they can find...

OK, enough with all of that, onward and upward. The next byway was shut to vehicles by several monster rocks. I'd finally left the 200 route by this point and was alone with my grumblings. For the first time in a long time, I was doubting if I could do all of this. Hopefully the next trail would be better...

Shut for a reason.

The lengthy bridleway down the Doethie valley started promisingly - a nice grassy trail contouring down a steep sided valley - a kind of green version of Glen Tilt (and longer!) But there were some horrible boggy sections lower down, made worse by there being lines all over the place making me think I was always on the wrong one, compounded by my riding skills which brought to mind the phrase 'coo with a gun...'. It also seemed to go on for a very long time.

The good bits!

Finally it spat me out on the road. Dusk was falling and I was a bit miffed to see I was only at K125. I'd been at K160 this time last year! I was not feeling it to be honest but what can you do? I hadn't got a clue where I was, beyond the 'line' and its immediate environs, my route homework focusing on the generalities rather than trying to remember every possible trail type; in order to avoid the confusion I'd suffered last year. 

No, my only option was to keep going. The good news was that, inspite of my slow pace and moaning, I was well ahead of my schedule to get to the shop and Llanwrtyd Wells. Three further byways lay between me and it however and guess what - more huge puddles, this time in the dark. I was shouting curses at all things petrol powered by this time but at least it was short lived (and the puddles either easily bypassed or not too deep)

Finally I was on the fast road descent to the village. The loo provided welcome relief and I nearly burst into tears when I saw the sign on the Premier store - 'Take away pizza available'

I was stopped here for the best part of an hour but time well spent, as I needed a break from all that mayhem. A bloke wandered past clutching a bottle, noticed me and asked me what I was doing / where I was from. When I said "Fife" he said "what, Kirkcaldy?" "Nope Dunfermline!" Turns out he lived in Kirkcaldy for many years (his accent was actually south west England.) I can't get away from Fifers... Anyway, when I eventually headed off, with a very full stomach, I was feeling somewhat better than earlier. I knew that one forestry section was to come with a trail of dubious provenance, followed by another forest section that would lead into the routes high point over Carnau at 536m, 114 less than last years high point, so stop complaining!

A car at a track junction had steamed up windows. If there was anyone inside causing the steaming, they must have been miffed at me passing by, realising I was on the wrong fork, coming back, swearing at a recalcitrant gate and then stomping up yet another steep climb, muttering and grumbling. This led to a steep descent through a fire break with more soggy bits. At the bottom I had one of those moments when you simply cannot figure which way is up on the GPS screen and have to keep wandering around until the arrow is on the correct track.

The next singletrack was OK but more sodding trail bikes had been up it so it was a mess in places. After a bit they all turned off but the route carried straight on so I was glad to see the back of the ruts. But the trail got even wetter. Then I realised I was off track and had missed a turn. Back we go to the point but there is no sign of it. Where in all hell should I be going? I shouted out my frustration and just kept going until I hit a track at the bottom. Other bike tracks suggested the two people I was following had done the same. This climbed back up to the line after a few hundred meters. Fallen trees were the next obstacle, finally taking me out of the forest and onto a grassy (and wet) track out of there. 

Bloody hell, this was full on. I was hoping the next sections wouldn't lead me similarly astray but fair to say there was some churning going on in my stomach. At least I got the first turning right, missed another but realised quickly; then suddenly, lots of other tyre tracks meant I'd rejoined the 200 route. Finally I left the forest and saw the broad shape of a large moor ahead. I also noted a light somewhere in front - always nice to know you aren't alone in such places...

The climb was OK. On the ground the track matched my GPS pretty good so it was just a case of get pushing. In fact I was back on the bike soon enough and the bog and tussock were replaced with a long length of grassy trail. After variations on these themes I passed a stone shelter and suddenly I was looking ahead instead of up.

The descent would have been a corker in daylight but it still offered some fun and smiles in the dark, finally. It's worth just focusing on such sections on a route like this, consciously forgetting any frustration experienced earlier, as a way of lifting your mood. I knew the next section from last year - a good one - and the Llanwrythl 24hr spar wasn't far away.

The light was still ahead but I only caught the guy as he'd gone off line and backtracked. He was doing the 200 and had already bivvied so we exchanged brief greetings before he turned north for Rhayader and I whizzed down a smooth track to Llanwrythl, the last of the day.

So I'd scoped out an old garden cum picnic area with a couple of wooden gazebos next to the Spar / garage. I rode straight in and sure enough, it was all overgrown with little sign of use. One of the shelters was still in tact, so I shoved the benches out of the way, unrolled my bivvy and got in. I lay for a bit getting settled and reflecting on what had just gone by. Finally I turn over and felt sleep approaching fast. It was 2:30am and I'd ridden 195k....

Highly salubrious bivvy spot.

The first trail of the new day was easy - a nice wide gravel track, still open to motors, despite being also NCN8. But the puddles were only an inch or so deep and I was fueled by a large breakfast courtesy of the Spar shop. The kind person serving had also allowed me to sit in the (closed) Gregs area so my bivvy had been a corker - practically en-suite and full board!

Somewhere up above me was Penlan cottage that had featured in 'Deep Country' - a book I'd read earlier this year about a chap going off grid. It was the usual self indulgent waffle for a part but the detailed descriptions of the local flora and fauna kept my interest to the end. The cottage had been described as being very remote but it's anything but - the main road and two large towns are within an easy walk. Try living by the shores of Loch Treig! Dawn was starting to show above the lights of Llandrindod Wells as the next trail presented a wired shut gate and an impenetrable jungle of nettles. The field alongside it was easy but I feared that any famer who had blocked the ROW would take a dim view of someone bypassing it. The farm dogs barked their anger at me but no-one else was in evidence so I cracked on....

...To nav faff number 3 (4?) The route showed a bridleway pealing off the one I was on up a hillside. But all I could see was a steep bank and lots of bracken. Back and forth revealed nothing so I pushed on, nearly throwing the whole thing again. This got me me back on track but into the bracken on a trail that (apart from two tyre prints) had clearly seen no use for many a year. I was nearly brought to a halt, the bracken got so bad. Eventually I threw my bike over the fence and pushed up through the adjacent field picking up the BW at a gate which was tied shut and again had never been used for years. Fields followed and another quiet farm but I do wonder why these routes aren't either re-claimed or extinguished... Anyway, more hilly roads followed then a further monster climb to a bit of wooded single track, well trampled by trail bikes. But the sun was shining and it was warming up fast with views opening up all round.

In fact the only thing keeping me moving was the prospect of Bwylch Y Sarnau community cafe, as featured on many BB's. Between me and it was another wretched byway but apart from more puddles and one section that the forestry had helpfully spread a thin layer of clay over (near to death mud at one point!) got me there in reasonable order. Two other 200 riders were sat out drinking coffee, having bivvied above Rhayader

We exchanged brief notes about bog and tussock but I was feeling pretty wabbit so retired to the porch to drink hot, sweet coffee and eat food, whilst trying to keep focused on what was to come. I could have stayed there for an hour or more but dragged my self away. 70k to go.

More crazy back roads followed and yet another huge byway climb. This inevitably meant a further stop in Llanidloes Spar for more drink and food. I was struggling to eat but haribo would get me through. Just. The road section that followed nearly had me on my knees. Relentless ups, brief rests then up again, and again. Finally I plummeted towards Llyn Clywedog res and noted two riders opening a gate to the next trail. One was John Allan whose tyre prints I'd followed for many a mile last year. He was riding with a mate who'd never done a BB before and taking it at a leisurely pace as a result. He praised my single speed prowess which buoyed my mood no end. The trail was nice too and after a descent through a field got me back on road and up to the final turn off.

Without thinking too much I wrenched the bars to the left and set off on the last 30k. The monster road climb morphed into another soggy track but this then led into a fine final bridleway and some blessedly easy riding across the last big moor, views to Cadhair Idris ahead.

The byway descent was rough gravel rather than rutted hell and much road descending followed - actually the biggest height lost on the route. Of course what followed beggared the vertical profile - a series of short but sharp ups that seemed to drag on forever. I'd actually plenty of leg power but overall weariness meant I couldn't really exploit it. Then the last trail which was easy and had two nice fords to rinse off some of the accumulated mud from the bike. Finally I dropped down to the A470, ignored the 'Llanbrynmair 3 1/2' sign and ground up the last climb. Then one last precipitous descent back to the '470, one near death miss from an Audi driver (inevitably) and the finish at 14:21.

The bacon roll and coffee that Stuart handed me was like the elixir of life. I was literally at the end of my tether. A few others were around including Bob who'd not long finished himself having struggled with cramp for most of the Saturday. Others were also there all expressing similar views about bogs, tussocks and puddles. A classic BB I think! I drank more coffee and chatted with Stuart about the trials and tribulations of the last 31 hours. Finally I packed up and headed off before the sleep monsters took hold.

Musings....

'Why am I doing this?' I asked on the last post. This years route was harder than anything I've done before, Highland Trail included. I also don't think I've ever knowingly ridden my bike through so much mud in one ride. Thank god for single speed, although my recently new chain is looking a bit sorry for itself. People talk of type 2 fun, and I do get that. But this did seem a bit much at times - well beyond what I would choose to do, if I had a choice! (and I'd known what was coming!) I guess ego plays a part, that smug self satisfied feeling of doing something that only a very small number of people could do; and at the age of 52. Plus the warm glow of knowing that my riding over what will likely be another wet winter will be easy by comparison. A big part of the appeal is that this is one of a very small number of routes worldwide that generates the challenge from the terrain, rather than the speed at which people try to do it. 'Gravel bike friendly' still seems to persist in what many desire from a route so it's nice to be part of something that is the polar opposite of such things. Chapeau Stu and Dee! 

Will I do it again? probably, despite the above. Stuart puts a lot of work into route setting, organising and cat herding, so deserves the respect from us the end users turning up to ride it. Mebbes just the 200 though. Anyway, this concludes my 2023 ITT season and what a season. Two 300's and a 900, all in sunny weather! It won't be like this next year....

Gear, kit and stuff

Once again, the Jones excelled itself, inspite of the extreme mud and puddles. Only John Allan had something similarly weird - his Stooge scrambler with Ti truss forks - all the rest were on rigids or hard tails, plus the odd bouncer and a few bikes with dropped bars. 'Ideal bike' is a totally abstract concept for a route like this as anything will offer benefits and disadvantages in equal measure. Maybe a super light gravel bike and a pair of trail running shoes would have been the best!

Bivvy kit:- Rab pertex bivvy bag, thermorest neoair full length mat, Cumulus 150 quilt, HH polyprop top. Ideal for the conditions and super light - 900gs. All carried in a Wildcat seat harness

Worn kit:- Endura 3/4 shorts (I'd worn the arse out of my Madisons on my tour last month,) BAM boxers, Merino T shirt, BB long sleeved top, BB gilet, dexshell water proof socks plus BAM thin socks. Shimano XM9 boots, now just about done. Slightly too warm for most of the day but kept me warm overnight. Boots were an absolute life and foot saver on the bog, tussock and puddles.

Carried kit:- Columbia Outdry extreme jacket, Berghaus Changste goretex over trousers, Montane ultralight gaiters. I wore the jacket when eating pizza and after my bivvy until it warmed up. The gaiters were fab on the soggy trails and helped to keep my feet mostly dry. All shoved into my framebag.

Food:- two vege wraps, 3x mini cheddars, 5x pepperami, 3x Nutri grain bars, 3x snickers, bag of haribo, an apple, 2 mini pork pies, 2 x 500 Kcal 'Tent meals' freeze dried meals, 5x babybells. I ate everything apart from 1 pepperami, the nutri grain bars and the freeze dried meals as I made the shop at Llanwyrtd wells. I bought another packet of harribo, 4 x lucozade sports, 2 cans of coke, 2 bottles of orange juice, 1 packet of crisps, a sandwich pack, a pie, a bakewell tart and a 9" pepperoni, onion, pepper and tomato pizza. Most carried food was in a Topeak front pouch (that usually attaches to my bar roll) which meant it was accessible on the move. Water and a few other bits and bobs went in the framebag.

Bike stuff:- One spare tube, usual tubeless repair kit (not needed this year thank god), no sealant (whoops), chain links, clamp to lock dropper post if it failed, BB adjuster tools, multi tool and leatherman. None of this was used. I oiled the chain at K225 which is frankly miraculous given how wet it was. Squirt lube strikes again!

Why I do this / Why am I doing this??

Earlier, I received the email from Stuart at Bearbones Bikepacking with the Bearbones 300 route attached. This is happening next weekend. I was tremendously excited as I uploaded it to the OS app (which is OK on the 'puter but crap on the phone) and even more excited when I saw where it would be taking me - through bits I'd done on the previous two editions but lots and lots of new stuff. And some proper moorland challenges - vague line, big lump of grass, tussock and bog infested hillside.

In 2014 I did my first bikepacking ITT completion of the Cairngorms loop. This was a couple of weeks after Hurricane Bertha passed through and this lead to some major challenges. Or at least they were at the time. These days?? Looking back to what I went through my first thought was - "why all the distress, that was easy!" Of course it wasn't at the time, but in the 9 years since I've been there and done that - wet and dry Highland Trails, another CL in a range of weather, YD2 and 300's, LLTL, you name it I've... well you know. 

The BB200 gained a fearsome reputation in 2014 but being objective it wasn't that bad and editions since then look to have been much more straightforward, with only the fickle Welsh Autumn weather being the major influence on how well the route went. Both my rides have been in unbelievably dry weather so I'm not in a position to be objective. Given this and a dry run round both this years HT and NYM300, I'm accepting the fact that this years BB will be a wet one.

An initial scope of the route indicates a number of 'challenges' those moor crossings on a vague / damp / tussocky trail, one of which will definitely be done after dark O'clock. Of course I've a massive amount of experience of riding such stuff, thanks to my beloved local hills, the Ochills, but when you add it into a 300k route with 7500+m of climbing, you do get that sudden thought of...."can I do this?" Not so much a crisis of confidence as a crisis of what exactly the hell am I doing taking on something that by any reckoning is ridiculously, comically hard.

I can't answer that question. OK, try harder. 7500m of climbing also means 7500m of descending. Mid Wales is a fab place and I will properly enjoy the landscape (presuming I actually get to see it) There will be some top class riding - not the techy boulder fests of the HT but some good stuff that will remind me, yet again, of why I love riding bikes off road. Plus Spar shops! Community cafes that leave the front porch open! Co-ops! Pubs! Wee village shops that sell everything! Riding into the night! riding out of the night! Eating anything and everything to keep the motor running! etc. etc. OK and to put a selfish, egotistical spin on it - doing something which even many experienced bike riders would baulk at, and normal people would be totally incapable of comprehending.

A big part of it is that I know how to pace myself, what stuff to take (I'm getting some proper shut eye this year) what bike to ride (Jones SS natch) and what will happen - big smiles, energy dips, more smiles, total confusion as to where the hell I am, disbelief/belief in myself, complete lack of giving the remotest shit about anything other than moving forward, total disregard for anything other than that which allows me to keep moving forward, and a vane hope that either me or the bike doesn't throw up an unsolvable mechanical.

And of course the great unknown. Because anything might happen. But isn't that the essence of an adventure? See you on the other side....

Sun, Hills, Rivers and Trails

I'd booked the first week in September off earlier in the year with no real idea what to do other than something touring related as per the last few years. Once it was established that we were having a wet summer I'd little hope it would pick up for this week but lo and behold, after days of forecasts being the same as for the last three months suddenly the weather forecast was sun, sun and sun for 6 days straight!

So... Plan A was a train to Dundee on the Saturday, then I'd follow the 'Pictish Trail' north for a bit, divert off to bag some other routes to my pal's place in Speyside, then use it to head south morphing into a route that would take me home by one of various routes I've used over the years. I'd got a ticket for £6.30 but a rail strike canned that plan and no bikes spaces were available on any other service that day. Cue plan B - drive to Blair Atholl and head into the Cairngorms as per many other trips. But the thought of this didn't appeal as I fancied training it to somewhere and then riding all the way back home without recourse to the wretched A9. Once again I ventured onto the Scotrail site and lo and behold, I could get me and bike onto a train to Stonehaven on the Sunday afternoon - let's go with plan C! Actually something I'd thought of doing on my Deeside holiday last year - a variation of a tour I've done twice before, plus some of the Pictish trail and the usual make it up as I go along, 'cos I know all the trails style of cycle touring.

The train was an ancient intercity 125 with only 4 carriages. I now know far too much about Scotrail and it's issues with rolling stock but this seemed a step too far. Worse, the roomy guards van was sealed shut so I had to wedge the Jones into a narrow cubicle after first ousting it's occupants. The other bike spaces had been shoe-horned into the passenger compartment ensuring maximum inconvenience for both passengers and bike users... The train was rammed but I had a seat booked so the journey was fine, with many sea views on the way north.

Finally, 3pm saw me pedaling into a stiff, but cooling breeze, Fetteresso forest and the Mounth my destination. 

I did wonder at this point if I should have simply ridden up NCN 1 and spent a few days by the sea...

Much shady fire road followed with much view looking and puzzlement at the complete lack of other people. Maybe they were all lazing around on the beach... Eventually I topped out on the Builg Mounth road near to my death by midges bivvy of 2020.

And speaking of lazing around, after a fine descent through the woods to Bridge of Dye I arrived at Charr bothy at 5.30. Once again it was empty so I figured on chilling out for a while, making tea and if no-one turned up I'd stay. This was all in keeping with me making a concerted effort not to bash through a planned route in one day on this trip!

It's a cracker and being sans fire, not used much for overnighters, despite being only a few k from the road. I had a good wander around checking out the views and generally relaxing, this being me on holiday.

And came across this fella:-

I was up quite sharp but breakfast was a leisurely affair as I contemplated my days route. Somewhat less than the epic I'd done last year but with plenty of good riding. So it was off up the first humongous climb, before the heat of the day hit. This would be a common theme as the trip progressed. 

Mount Battock (778m) 

There are many 'Mounts' around here - by one of those quirks of dialect it's origin is 'Mounth' a pictish word for hill, which then fell into normal vocabulary as 'mount' independent of the word 'mountain' A bloke on an e-bike suddenly appeared having ridden the whole climb, which I, of course, had pushed. He was surprised to have been beaten to the top this early on a weekday but was cheery enough. A fun descent followed, using the same link as my previous two trips up here to take me straight into the Fungle mounth and large climb number 2. Mounth roads abound here - lit. 'Hill Roads' used by livestock holders to drive cattle from the hill farms to markets in the lowlands. For the peddler of bikes they provide a fine series of routes with a range of challenges. When I first did this route in 2011 I'd been somewhat appalled by the amount climbing (actually much less than a typical Yorkshire Dales or Mid Wales tour) but this was old hat now. I was fairly heavily loaded so it was just a case of get off and push - I was in no hurry!

It was a hot one, although there was a decent breeze to keep you cool. This led into one of my weeks many fine descents on a mix of made singletrack, more climbing and then a lovely natural rooty, rocky, rutted single track descent to Aboyne and a very sunny Deeside. At roughly halfway I stopped in the shade of a particularly fine shooting hut for an early lunch. The heat was actually getting to me which is annoying as I should really enjoy such rare occurrences. That's the problem though - I'm just not used to it! I knew the trick would be to take it steady, keep drinking and keep resting. A couple of hill walkers turned up, also enjoying the shade and then off we go into the next bit. I then met a chap coming the other way doing the whole Pictish Trail. Dan was from Dalgety Bay (everyone I meet in the hills comes from Fife) and gave favourable reports of the route. We chatted for a bit about our various bikepacking trips and then headed our separate ways.

Aboyne provided food and gallons of various drinks (non - alcoholic, that's how hot it was!)  whilst flaked out on the grass. I spent some considerable amount of time fighting with the OS app on the phone to plan my next riding. The OS app is sh*t. There I've said it. But it continually crashes, freezes and fails to download maps unless you have a 5 bar signal or wifi... So out with the Dakota and route planning done on a 2x1" screen!

I had a notion to head for the beach, given the weather. This would require me to bash on over the next climb to hit the Moray coast via the Speyside way. Then I'd follow the coast route and head south via the fab river Findhorn path. But it all seemed a bit much and after the heat of the last climb, the thought of doing the Ladder Road didn't really appeal as I knew it would be a toughie. So after further procrastination (aka sun bathing)I went with an extra Deeside loop to Ballater and then back to Tarland. This was an all round Good Thing as after a monster climb out of Glen Tanar I was subjected to some lovely trails -  a fun descent back to Deeside, some easy road riding, buying cheap whisky in Ballater and then an absolute stoater of a trail through Cambus of May woods and Loch Kennord. 

Halfway Hut still hanging on in their but it really needs some love.

Mount Keen in all it's glory.

Tarland is now trail centre central but on this occasion I avoided any 'sending' and just cruised down a track to the pub, which provided beer and food, obviously. Then onto a new trail (gasp!) an old road to Strathdon. Of particular interest, given dark O'clock was fast approaching, was the 'Lazy Well' which promised either a fine moorland bivvy, or a shed.

The shed had no roof so we went with the bivvy. This was hardcore extreme ultra (tm) as I was running a gauntlet with a range of biting terrors. The wildfowl ponds revealed a swarm of mozzies so I moved to a spot away from them, accepting death by midges. Sure enough they appeared in force as I pulled stuff from bags. I ran away to don a head net and much smidge and set too, teeth gritted. But a very odd (if not un-precedented) thing occurred - they all buggered off. No wind, warm, and plenty of midge sheltering vegetation made this unfathomable. Who cares how but I got into the bivvy midge free and had a relaxing hour or so sipping cheap whisky, reading and wondering if I would be awoken by the locals here to shoot the local duck.

I woke to said duck leading the dawn chorus, then again as something else swooped low overhead with a loud whoosh (or was it a rifle bullet) and got going after a leisurely breakfast in the roofless hut....

Big river number 2 - the Don and Strathdon was a gem of a place - a loo and best of all, a fabulous spar shop. I sat in the sun by the river eating and drinking, preparing for a monster.

Ho ho. I wasn't.

'In ferrous defense of the Lost'. There is also the 'Lost gallery' just down the trail although the artwork looked a bit naff to my un-cultured eye. Then it was 'Duffdefiance' a ruined cott allegedly built by Duff without the estate knowing, which meant they would let him live there. I'm not sure this is true though.... More likely just some poor bugger who built a house along with a few others, worked a modest living off the land and then got turfed off by the local upper class twit. In defense of the lost indeed.

Anyway, enough of all that, I've a monstrous hill to climb. And it was a gem. First off a super steep push through a rutted and heather strewn trail, one brief easy bit and then a true death march up a steep, tussock filled and vague line. Well it would have been if it was raining but it's hard to moan at a trail in the blazing sunshine with stunning views opening up all around. After some considerable effort I got up to the Ladder Road summit. This is another mounth road but was really just a vague route that driven cattle would follow, not a constructed track per se.

As per, it's steeper than a photo makes it look. It was one of those situations where you seriously ask yourself if it's possible to continue. But as usual there is no option. As I struggled up this last bit I mentally went over all the gear I had with me cursing stuff that I figured would be of no use (down jacket, battery bank, waterproofs, tarp and so much food!) If there is anything to motivate you to TLS it's a climb like this. That said, it was worth it...

View-arama. My route so far revealed, various local bumps plus views north west to the Fannichs (Fisherfield just behind!) Ben Wyviss, the North East hills and the mighty Cairngorm plateau. I spent a good hour up here, just taking it all in. 

The descent was a killer - super steep, rocks a-plenty and some really tricky, narrow and off camber stuff. There seems to be more structure to the route on this side of the pass so my earlier struggles were forgotten (and will make for some fine BB300 training). Will I do it again? Not likely!

Some nice rough double track through upper Glen Livet led me to this. I passed here a few years ago and noted it's door was propped open and it all looked a bit knackered. Looks like someone is doing it up, it's open as a bothy and even has a loo! I sat out here for a while with the tarp pitched to dry out. I also rinsed shirt and shorts out to cool off whilst brewing up a coffee as I felt my weariness of yesterday and been due to a lack of caffeine. 

Twice now I've ridden from here over into Glenfidich but today I fancied the other option into Carbrach estate. This was of course via a monster climb (again) and a monster windfarm. I should have stuck to the old track which passes the abandoned Carbrach Lodge but suckered myself into riding the horrible motorway wide windfarm track to miss a bit of climbing. Of note was the wind which was stiff but had shifted to the south east. And speaking of abandoned lodges, Glen Fiddich Lodge, as noted in previous trip reports, is even more dilapidated - defo a strange place....

I was following a route last done in 2018, up a steep climb out of Glenfiddich then much fine double track (still not upgraded to motorway standard!) over the hill to Glen Rinnes. Further nice double track, which sprayed the only muck of the trip onto the bike, took me to Aberlour and lots of drink and an ice cream sat by the mighty Spey. Then a fine evening with friends at Blacksboat, a proper de-louse and a long sleep.

So. Homeward bound but which way. Over the last few days I'd ruminated over which of several routes to use. The flesh pots of Aviemore beckoned but this would lead me into quite a bit of road riding (I'd need to do a chunk in any case to get me home) and was a fair bit longer than the direct route, and also the most entertaining - south to Braemar via Tomintoul and Glen Avon, Glen Tilt, Strath Tay, more hills, more trails. I figured getting home on Thursday so decided this was the one. 

First up was a new bit, as featured in the Pictish trail, to get you from Speyside to Tomintoul avoiding the main road. It was a bit marginal in places, particularly as I'd forgotten to bung the gpx on the garmin. In fact as I'd left Iona I'd vouchsafed that I would just do the main road but on reaching the turning, went up simply due to a desire to get off the A95 1k earlier, in the face of a large truck. In the event it was a actually a good 'un with only some minor nav faffing. A couple of bits felt a bit unwelcoming but the number of bike tracks gave reassurance. Interestingly I came upon the ford that the Tiso 500k route took you across - no danger would you be crossing this in anything other than the conditions experienced today - i.e. after a week of no rain. Anyway all good and a route I will use again. 

Brekkers part 2 took place in T'toul. Then off up that strath, much loved by Cairngorm loopers, the Avon roaring below. And speaking of roaring, the headwind got a bit fierce up here making me dread my homeward run as it would be into this all the way. It never quite reached full on blaster status though and once you climbed out of the wind funneling glen it eased off. In fact if it had been behind me I'd have boiled over!

Loch Builg, sun and fine trail.

Super posh estate bothy (locked for the avoidance of doubt but I could peer through the windows) - inside were fine art prints and lots of wine bottles! A pimpled Ben Avon behind.

The Cullardoch climb was a brute as usual. But the breeze was less over the top and views of all I had passed through in the last three days stunning. A guy on a gravel bike at the top asked if the trail was easy to Tomintoul. As usual, I noted "Aye it's fine" then afterwards stressed I'd let someone who clearly didn't have a clue do something which is actually quite an undertaking. I passed his missus on the descent so figured she had been tasked with picking him up and therefore it would all be fine. 

I ate a vast amount of food, and drank a vast amount of drink at Braemar, noting a Cairngorm looper passing through, and thinking how different the weather was this week versus my last ride round this route....

Pedaling west into my favourite part of the Cairngorms led to much grinning. The wind was now a cooling breeze, the river low and the trail dust dry. I bypassed the newly opened red bothy, my sights set on a days end somewhere down towards Pitlochry, and cruised along the delightfully rough track up to the watershed. Three pick up trucks full of burly contractors had driven past earlier (and a large dump truck) making me fear that the NTS would be buldozing this track, or worse, turning it into a motorway, but they seemed to be working elsewhere. The Geldie was a feet up cinch, as was the Bynack, then finally over the watershed and contemplation of the narrow slot ahead. 

Very low. Note cloud - this built as I pedaled from Braemar to Linn of Dee and seem to centre on the Cairngorm Plateau. Worryingly one large cloud did wander over me and at one point I was convinced it would rain. In the event it didn't and looking south it all looked very blue.

Ahh blessed Glen Tilt, in the afternoon sun, dry trail, and no-body else. What could be better. I've been through here many, many times now and it's probably my favourite descent anywhere. This evening it was absolutely fabulous and my riding responded to the moment getting through nearly all of the tricky bits dab free. And to cap it all, that lovely roll out down the lower glen finishing with a fine fish tea at Blair Atholl. 

Oh yes.

So now what - a bivvy obviously as it was 1 hour and a bit to sunset. All cloud had disappeared and a fine evening looked to be in prospect - again! First up was the fab riverside trail to Pitlochry, empty apart from one old duffer who refused to move at my 'ting' of bell or polite 'excuse me.' I seem to have met a few of these idiots recently..... But where to bivvy. If I was really hardcore, I'd have kipped on the Tummel bungie jump platform or the 'go ape' thing that has appeared since my last visit - call me dull but I was after a ground based spot in the woods. The midges would be ferocious but I was too far from my cheeky shelter above Loch Rannoch so I would just have to put up with them. 

I sweated up the track out the back of Pitlochry which nearly killed me in '94 and into the woods, bivvy radar set to max. I did stop to see how bad the midges would be (gale of earlier completely gone, warm, me sweating profusely) but bloody hell - there were none! What is going on!! So out with the bag, forget the tarp and relax after a long, long day (80 miles) and some truly wonderful bike riding. Drink too - last of the cheap whisky...

Bivvy bag only bivvy number 6. Later I became aware of a 'pit' then a 'pat' then a 'pit pat pit' then more. Then I woke up. All was still and stars still peeped at me through the trees. My pulse slowly returned to normal, but what an ironic dream when you are sleeping out in a not very waterproof bivvy bag... 

In October 1994, me and a bunch of fellow 'Watt Wheelers' (now exclusively mountainbikers) were up here for our annual Pitlochry trip. On the Saturday, me and another guy had headed over to Glen Lyon and my first passage of the Lairig Gallabaich, now made famous on the Highland Trail, Badger Divide and other routes. On the Sunday we did this track over the hill to Strath tay, went to Aberfeldy for lunch then cycled back. On the last bit of the descent, me and Rob were neck and neck. I pulled ahead and then.... I woke up in hospital with no memory of what had just happened. Turns out a stone had got picked up by the front tyre, funneled up to the fork crown by my full length mudguard and jammed the wheel solid, bending the fork in the process. I went face first into the track as the bike looped end over end way up in the air. Mashed face, cracked rib and chipped wrist, cracked skull...

So home we go. The high level bivvy was a good shout as I was totally dry but down in the valleys it was damp and misty. There wasn't a breath of wind and it was warm. The Rob Roy way seemed a nicer bet than the double track and it was - a nice (in the dry) singletrack with only stupid sheep and some gorse to interrupt things. Grandtully was deserted, shut and misty. A humid railway path took me up the Tay, then over the monster climb through Griffin forest, rising out of the mist into an absolute roaster of a day. So far a stiff breeze had kept me cool but it was all but gone today and the heat was building. Not quite as bad as my failed tour of a year and a bit ago but getting close! 

Glen Garr was next and although it was OK, the cattle had been let loose and it was like riding a jack hammer, with a massive amount of bracken clogging the trail which had been absent in July 2020. 

Bankfoot shop provided much food and much more drink. This is a cracker of a place and has outside seating, as well as a Stephens Bakery counter! The heat was now intense so I figured on a leisurely route of back roads, one more climb and one last easy trail home. I suppose I could have trained it from either Pitlochry or Perth but having not booked anything this could be tricky. In the event it all passed quite quickly, even the climb out of Dunning, so I was happy with the road riding finale to what had been a brilliant tour - total distance 285 miles with lots of lazing around!

Actually not that heavy all in all. As usual the bike was flawless and the singlespeed probably didn't cause any more distress than you would have suffered with gears. Prior to this trip I'd been thinking of gearing up given the road riding and many easy trails. As of now I'm thinking of adding a tooth to the rear sprocket!

Finally, on the last miles I was fair chuffed to be doing what would be my only ever totally rain free multi-day trip since 1989. Then as if by magic, a large cloud appeared, threw a few drops of rain at me and then moved on. Hey ho...