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...