A large amount of procrastination on my part preceded this ride. Various options were considered including an actual bivvy as well as various bothies. But bothies are becoming more popular so the chances of getting one to ourselves, or even space in one, were slim and the typically variable December made a real bivvy less favoured. Jimmy came to the rescue doing a fine job of Tin Pot Dictator and named Auldhame Castle as the venue, on the East Lothian Coast. Bothies? Pah!
After the epic tales from the South Wales crew, braving storms and pub outdoor seating areas, the weekend looked set fine, at least for the Saturday into Sunday morning. So I had a fine ride from home to North Berwick. The fog of the previous week had finally gone and it was a cool, breezy and sunny day.
Once again I battled through Edinburgh (third time this year) and noted a shiny new cycle route linking the end of the Roseburn Cycleway to almost Fountainbridge. I believe they intend to punch it right through to the Meadows one way or another. My route was as per a trip out to meet up with my folks back in September 2022 who had a holiday cottage near East Linton. It was strange to think a mere 2 years ago, Dad was capable of walking, driving and generally living life as much as his age allowed. Now is a very different story.
So as then, I followed NCN's 1 and 76 eastwards. Mussleburgh provided a Baynes Bakers (South of the river, I ask you!) for a late lunch then it was more fine cycleways including the Pencaitland railway path which is still nice and gravelly. Dark O'clock occurred on the back roads just before Haddington and I carried onto East Linton as I was in plenty of time for our notional 5pm meet up at the Ship in North Berwick. Sure enough, Justin was in residence, Dave incoming and Jimmy preparing our accommodation.
Beers were drunk and chips were eaten then off to the spot via the inevitable Co-op. A bit of nosing around then the castle loomed out of the dark. Jimmy had a fire going in the 'fire place' (ahem) and fairy lights up! Well I know what we say about fires but this would do no harm to any flora or fauna and given that the castle would have been built by local slave labour for some posh, rich git, it seemed fitting that four reprobate bikepackers squatted in it for a night, with a fire to warm our ageing bones. So there.
Much conviviality followed, probably why I ended up drinking too much as it's the first social I've had in a long time....
We crashed out at 12 (literally in my case as I tripped over Dave's sleeping bag heading for the loo and measured my length - I blame the whisky) and I slept soundly until just after 8.Quite a pile in it's day.
I got packed up before the full force of the hangover struck. Dave, Jimmy and Justin were heading to Dunbar - Dave for his wagon and the others for the train but I felt I had to cycle all the way home as penance for abusing my body so. Plus, to be honest, I didn't trust myself on a train in case my breakfast made a re-appearance.
So a lengthy ride followed, my body on a go slow, my head louping, and a stiff breeze in my face. This built as my hangover receded. I was trying to follow the John Muir Way East but the sections signed for cyclists just seem to be on the (main) road. Occasionally the footways were signed as shared use but it was all a bit haphazard, not helped by my limited mental capacity. The various walkers I encountered must have been horrified by this apparition cycling towards them - eyes like p*ssholes in the snow and a grey complexion... I stopped for a snooze near Prestonpans (it was now 12 or 13 degrees) but after a brief rest, sleep was far away so I kept going.
Leaving Embra it was a full on gale. I stopped at the garage just south of the bridge for a much needed bottle of coke which my stomach accepted with reluctance, but this seem to settle it down. Not sure what the shop assistant and his mates thought of this stumbling wreck though! I nearly ended up in the Forth going over the bridge as huge gusts were battering me all the way across and the handrail suddenly looked somewhat weedy. Relieved to survive that lot, and with my appetite back, Greggs in Inverkeithing was a lifesaver fueling the final miles up the hill back home. Total distance 200k!
Cheers to Jimmy for organising and cheers to the others for putting up with me....
And another BAM complete! Fair to say there were a few close shaves this year with one thing and another. Roll on BAM 25!