Biking round the Trossachs

The Trossachs is an area of the Southern Highlands that are quite hard to define. They roughly cover an area east of Ben Lomond (but the most southerly munro isn't counted as being in the Trossachs), north and west of the A81 and A84 and South of Loch Voil. Its fairly mountainous with numerous rocky corberts but no Munros, lots of greenery, lots of bogs and a fair few evergreens in the large expanse of forestry. It falls within the boundary of the the Loch Lomond and Trossachs National Park but this covers a much larger area extending west into Argyll and North and East to Tyndrum and Crianlarich. Its tourism central and has the full tartan / scotty dog / haggis / twee stuff as well as a few more restrained attractions such as various lochs and visitor centres. 

My first visit to the area was in 1989 on about the third run with the Heriot Watt Uni cycling club (Aka the Watt Wheelers!) The Trossachs was one of their regular destinations. We'd get the train from Embra to Dunblane and then do one of various circuits around the area, generally always including a lap of Loch Katrine on its quiet private road. This reservoir was famously extended and connected to Glasgow by an aqueduct as a way of bringing fresh water into this hideously polluted city that had previously used the Clyde for both its toilet and water supply with Cholera rife as a result. Watt Wheeler runs were a far cry from what was the norm for cycling clubs in those days. Generally clubs were either full on roadie clubs (long before this pastime was anything like as mainstream as today) or CTC District Associations. The former involved much speed, pain and suffering, the latter much low speed and cafes. The CTC Hard Riders and RSF were the exceptions but these branches were largely unknown outside of their own worlds. We invented our own form of cycling - long rides, mainly on road but at a moderate (aka lazy) pace making use of the better tracks where possible, in all weathers and at all times of year. Many was the time it ended up dark (with minimal lights), far from home, in foul weather with poor gear. Cafes were frequented but so were pubs as long as they welcomed a bunch of scruffy students looking for maximum food (and a few pints) for minimum dosh. The bikes were an absolute mish mash of anything and everything available to us impoverished students so every ride was punctuated by at lease one mechanical breakdown. Mine was relatively flash being a fancy custom framed mountainbike; a mate had a Saracen Tuftrax, another a fine Mercian. The rest were a mix of touring machines of various vintages, old style 'racers' with better gear ranges and wider tyres and a few other mountainbikes. Bike runs were often supplemented by train journeys with a constant battle with train guards to avoid bike number restrictions and charges. 

Post Uni, I stopped going for many years until 2014. I was training for that years Highland Trail and looking to do an easy century with some off road thrown in as a season opener. A bit of map appraisal suggested that I could reach Loch Katrine from the house and the sections of gravel trail and road would make the Fargo an ideal machine to do it on. So that was the first time I did my now ubiquitous Trossachs bash. I did it the other day and its a great circuit, albeit with a few bits of back tracking. Distance ranges from 115 to 120 miles depending on what bits of Queen Elizabeth forest you do. I'll not say much about my outward route (as per my March and June 2018 BAMS!) but its a nice mix of back roads and cycleways with only one bit of busy road for a few miles before Bridge of Alan. Just after Bridge of Allan you turn off the A9 onto a great wee road which sees pretty much zero traffic. You can track this to just outside Doune then you link through to the B8032. This is also quiet as most traffic uses the parallel A84. A few miles of steady climbing takes you to just south of Callander and a short section of the A81. There was a fair bit of traffic on it as this is the main route from Glasgow to Callander and points north. You turn off before the town centre on a back road which takes you along the south shore of Loch Venechar. Numerous people were parked up along here setting up camp, lighting fires and already starting on the days drinking. Music blared from cheap speakers at one group's camp so I made swift progress away. This is part of the Loch Lomond and Trossachs National Park managed camping zone and you need a permit to camp here subject to all sorts of rules and regulations (which under the current restrictions your supposedly not allowed to do at all....). Clearly this, as predicted when it was introduced, is having little impact on peoples behaviour and is just an embuggerance if you want to bivvy within the zone. My advice? Find a quiet spot, bivvy without bothering to get a permit, leave no trace. Just like normal then.

Sneaky bivvy in the LLTNP managed camping zone. Don't tell anybody.... The public road ends at a car park but the tarmac continues along the loch shore for another couple of miles. On the north side of the loch there is another trail - 'The Great Trossachs Trail' which is a good gravel path that climbs high above the loch level and pops out at Brig O'Turk (good cafe and excellent pub). I did this on the straggler last year on a visit to my parents holiday cottage and its a good one. Being on single speed and out for a long day, today I decided to give it a miss.

On the Great Trossachs Trail in 2019. The woods of Invertrossachs in the distance.

The south shore path (i.e. NCN 7) is a cracker. I first rode this in 1989 on the first of those Watt Wheeler trips, shortly after it was built. Lots of twists and turns and ups and downs - a great laugh on any bike with 40mm or wider tyres. It was one of the early Sustrans volunteer projects and has stood the test of time, albeit with a few improvements over the years. My involvement came in about 1997 when the two rock causeways were starting to collapse, the remote location leading to the usual challenges of getting plant and materials in. Its part of a short walking loop and there were actually quite a few peds on it today. Usually I start this ride early morning and its quiet. My late start today meant I hit rush hour..... 

Pedalling along the forest road beyond the end of the path indicated that the forest drive was shut. This loops out from the Dukes Pass road and normally its a nuisance. Despite being fairly smooth people tend to drive along it at a terminally slow pace. As is typical with a lot of car drivers they are oblivious to all around them so overtakes have to be planned carefully. Worse, you are allowed to camp at various points along it for a fee so many good bivvy spots are spoiled as most 'campers' will have music, generators and fires to help them survive their night in the wilds. I don't get why Forestry Commission still persist with this in this day and age. It appears it will be shut for all of this year so maybe this will persuade them to close it to vehicles for good.

Hey ho, for now it was quiet. I passed the scene of my self destructing back tyre back in May without incident then linked across to the bottom of the Dukes Pass road via a short gravel path. This road was also shut due to roadworks but cars were abandoned everywhere by the Ben Venue car park, something of a common theme of late as hoards of people escape the confines of their houses now that you can do it officially. The Loch Katrine car park was open but fairly quiet. Beyond here the road is private, only used by a handful of properties and Scottish Water vehicles. Various signs give dire warnings telling cyclists to be aware of traffic but in reality its just a very quiet back road along which you can pedal with little concern for vehicle traffic. As it happened I met a car and a tractor along here - my only vehicle encounters in around a dozen trips.

Of greater concern were a couple of notices a few miles in indicating a road closure due to landslips. A cyclist heading the other way also shouted that the road was closed. These signs had been up last August on my lap of this road due to a major flooding incident a couple of days previous. In the event I got through albeit with a few challenges crossing some big washed out sections. The last was the worst - around 100m of road was covered to about head height in boulders washed down the hillside. There were a couple of holiday properties and a big farm house adjacent. One of the properties was half buried and two cars had also fallen victim to the flood. It's a not uncommon weather phenomena when you get summer storms - a monster cloud staggers over a range of hills then empties itself on what is over the other side. In this case a few square miles of ground that was iron hard after a long dry spell. So the deluge ran straight into the many burns destroying all in its path. It seemed odd that this hadn't been sorted sooner but I figured that having got through a couple of days after it happened last year, I'd be fine today.

Flood damage on my ride of 2019, just after the event. Fortunately only property was damaged not people

At one point you can leave the road onto a short section of fast gravel path which misses a bit of climbing. I always stop for food here as the views are fab:-

Ben Lomond and Ben A'Choin from my lunch spot (taken in the Spring of 2018, I was camera free today)

And looking back down to my lunch spot from the summit of Ben A'Choin on a blazing day last September. Note multiple scoured out burn lines.

I passed a few more cyclists but none gave any indication of what was ahead. So I got a bit of a shock to suddenly come across a substantial barrier across the road and lots of 'Construction Site Keep Out' signs. There was even a matrix sign blazing a message to say that the route was closed to all users, as if the barrier wasn't enough. I felt justified in grumbling at this. There had not been even a hint of this closure back at the start of the route and the signs previously suggested that the road was closed due to land slips, not due to it being a construction site. Its typical of such locations where a contractor used to working in urban environments try to use the same approach to site security in the countryside. Of course there was nothing to stop you walking round them other than a bit of dense vegetation and a deer fence (no obstacle to a seasoned mountainbiker) plus you could easily walk into the 'site' off the surrounding hills. I hummed and hawed for a bit. Back tracking would pretty much scupper the ride (again!) and I was seriously miffed that they had gone to such lengths to close the road without any pre-warning where it would have made sense. Imagine driving down the M74 only to come up with a road closure with no warning, and no diversion!

You know whats coming so I did what apparently, given the trampled grass, numerous other people had done and climbed over the adjacent deer fence and went on my way. I pedaled along cautiously as I wasn't going to ride through a construction site where they were actually working. I passed a couple of the damaged sections. All the works looked to be complete apart from the final surface on the road. Further along a few machines were parked up but no-one was present. The two really bad sections had also been largely finished, again only lacking the final road surface. So all that trouble with barriers when it was clear that the site wasn't operating on a weekend, there was no issue passing through and so they could have quite easily opened it outside working hours. 

This kind of thing annoys me. Over the years I've managed numerous construction sites in similar locations where we knew that excluding people would be impossible or just plain not right. So we just worked around it on the basis that during working hours, passers by would be minimal. Measures to ensure that no-one gets squashed by a machine are easy and allowing routes to be used outside of working hours minimised the chances of people trying to break through barriers as well as keeping them on-side. The big farm house seemed empty which made me wonder where the residents were. This gave me hope that there wouldn't be a similar barrier further along so that the owners could get through but no, a couple of miles after another deserted site compound was a similar fortress. This required crossing the same deer fence twice but again, I wasn't the first.

I felt the need to write a snotty letter to someone about this but I can't be bothered really. The daft thing is; had I managed to get squashed by a machine I've no doubt that the HSE wouldn't have been impressed by the lack of thought over the closure and how practical it is to close off several square miles of hillside instead of putting in a few measures to manage people safely through the site. Likewise there were no signs at Stronachlachur indicating the closure ahead and there was no one around so I carried on my way. 

The munros above Loch Lomond (Ben Vane, Ime and Narnain)

A couple of miles down the Aberfoyle road you turn off into the forest. Loch Ard forest is a big one and has a network of tracks through it. Oddly no singletrack that I've found possibly as its a bit remote from populations so of little interest to the usual trail building types. The Forestry Commission did consider a trail centre here but it didn't get anywhere before they stopped building them. It roughly follows the Duchray water but extends over several corries on the lower slopes of a ridge of hills ending in Ben Lomond. Of interest are the two aqueducts which lead from Loch Katrine, eventually to Glasgow. A mix of steel box aqueducts and tunnels; it was quite an undertaking, particularly as its all gravity fed - in otherwords it follows a steady downhill gradient all the way to the treatment works at Mugdock Country Park. So there are a few ways through the woods to Aberfoyle, depending on how much climbing you fancy. Today I chose a middling route which would avoid the car parks in the forest and the attendant crowds of people. 

Ben Lomond from Loch Ard Forest (also taken in Spring 2018)

Aberfoyle was mobbed so I burned straight up the hill and back into the forest once more. The first section of the NCN after the road was more of my handiwork, partially with a group of volunteers and partially using our own specialist team. There were a fair few folk looking at the water-fall but the 'Go-Ape' oversized assault course was shut so the climb away from the visitor centre was quiet. And steep. I'd had this pegged as one to walk on my 36/18 gear, but in the event I got up it with only a modicum of straining. Over the top is a great descent and the shut forest drive made it even better without any vehicles. Oddly I passed a few groups of people, one lot with an inflated dingy in tow, who must have walked into the picnic areas by Loch Drunkie. So there you go - if people have to walk to get to a known picnic spot, they will. Ergo no need for vehicles to be able to get in here. There were a lot of bikes to, mainly people also having been for a picnic but a few other gravel bashers making use of the vast network of trails. In fact this is probably the biggest area of forest this side of Kielder so an obvious draw for this burgeoning biking trend.

On the descent I left all behind and had the Venechar cycleway to myself. Then it was out onto the road and back the way I came as far as Doune. I noticed a young lad in a LLTNP truck patrolling along the road eyeing up all the camps. This pretty much highlighted the problem as how this guy was going to drive off the large number of numpties was anyone's guess. I would very much doubt if the Police would want to get involved so what do you do. The answer is education but no-one seems willing to tackle such a monster of a task. Instead all we are seeing is an increasing number of no-camping byelaws across Scotland which have little effect on people who have no respect for the law or else will just drive them elsewhere. Anyway enough of the soapboxing, on with the ride.

Beyond Doune I picked up NCN765 along a bit of disused railway line, some old estate roads and then the usual convoluted route the NCN tends to follow through a sizeable community, Dunblane in this case. The route then continues above Bridge of Allan on an old road closed due to repeated landslips into the gorge of Kippenrait Glen below. The first time I did this ride, a recent deluge / flood / landslip had left two large bites out of the public road just past the closed section. As I approached several engineers and residents were peering into the resulting abyss wondering how to sort it. Fortunately I was able to bypass this. Today I followed various streets with many monster houses. Not sure where the money for these comes from but there are a hundred or so in this corner of Bridge of Allan suggesting an unknown but well paying industry. On a whim I used a section path behind Stirling Uni which is a swamp in normal weather but dry today. This misses out the A91 I'd hoofed along that morning and lead me into another signed path to Blair Logie. As per usual at the end of a long day, after a promising start it degenerated to a narrow, overgrown, rough and ready path but thanks to the dry spring was fine on my narrow tyres. Another (better) path connect to one of Clacks Councils excellent cycle routes to just above Tillycoutry. Finally a few more climbs got me back to the house just before 8, some eight and three quarters of an hour after I started, 118 miles done. Not bad on the single speed especially as my earlier plans to pace it nice and easy went straight out the window as I bombed through traffic, round people and along twisty trails.

Build a bike, fix a bike

This will be of limited interest to anyone straying onto this blog but having thrown together lots of bikes over the years (the first being in 1988 age 17!) I figured I should document at least one build for posterity. It does surprise me the number of people who want a custom build but will pay a bike shop to do it rather than do it themselves. I know bike shops make good money doing this but given that its pretty easy when all's said and done it should be something any keen cyclist aspires to. Of course in my case, the somewhat organic nature of my bike collection pretty much dictates that they are all DIY jobs. I've only ever bought two complete new bikes and done one custom build where pretty much everything was new. Every other one was a case of buy a frame swap as many bits over to it as possible, upgrade, buy another frame etc. etc.


This one was possibly a result of too much confinement in the house, under the current circumstances, prompting a need for some retail therapy. I'd also just off loaded a frame and realised I'd not built a new bike for three years.... The cue was a few rides I did in the early part of the 'lockdown' on a fixie I'd thrown together about 12 years ago, but never really used. This was dragged out and fettled, a pair of sawn off drops used for 'bullhorn' bars (fixie de rigueur) and the 18mm tyres ditched for some 23mils, all that would fit in the frame. This frame is quite nice as its an ex track bike frame sporting the name 'Sandy Wallace' of Edinburgh (in)fame. It was actually built by M Steels in Newcastle, source of many custom steel frames over the years. Being a track bike, it was incredibly stiff, had bugger all clearance and was actually quite heavy. I'd drilled the forks to take one brake, fitted a 42/17 gear and gone for a proper try out. Having ridden a lot of single speed this year, I was in a much better frame of mind to appreciate a fixed gear. But the frames limitations were manifest. No room for mudguards, so useless other than for dry weather, very twitchy (not ideal when every time you try to freewheel it tries to hurl you out of the seat) and very uncomfortable.


So as usual the seed had been sewn and I spent some weeks ruminating on whether I should invest in something that could be run fixed but was overall more usable. A surly steamroller was the obvious choice but its still track geo and not that versatile off the road. Furthermore there were none to be had in the UK or Europe in my size. Some of the fixed gear specialists offer some nice frames, specifically Brick Lane Bikes in London, but none of them quite met my exacting needs. I could have fixed the Straggler but this would have involved a new back wheel and a fair bit of fiddling. Plus disk brakes on a fixie??


Hmmm, how about a Cross-check then. I'd actually had one of these previously, my first ever Surly. It was a great thing but I'd got it a size too large as I hadn't a clue how road bike sizing went. So it was always a bit long plus I only really used it for commuting. By the time I was back into cycle touring, it was totally knackered and therefore got neglected. Soon after I became enamoured of the idea of disk brakes on a road bike so the cross-check was abandoned and eventually sold. But if I got the right size then it would be a far nicer prospect, the dodgy canti brakes would only be a back up to the fixed wheel, and being a 'classic' Surly, pretty cool to boot. Or something.


Of course there were non to be had of these in my size either. Some web searching sourced one in Germany for not much more than the bargain priced ones in Spa cycles (that weren't due in stock until October). I was pretty dubious about this as if it went wrong, sending it back would be a PIA. I also like to buy my frames from Bothy Bikes these days as its the nearest thing to my local bike shop but they had none in stock and were therefore dependent on Ison getting more in October. The shop had good reviews and if you used a bank card rather than Paypal the exchange rate was pretty much what was being advertised as the standard rate across the board. Word of advice, Paypal rip you off for exchange rates, paying this way would have cost me an extra thirty quid. So I hit the button and fretted for 10 days until it duly arrived on Monday.





All was well (in fact it was mint) and I noted that unlike my old one, its now also got the ED black coating which cuts down on rust inside and out. Also new were extra barnacles on the fork crown and mid blade, for a front rack. I'd been digging through my parts bin, as well as looking at what was on the track bike and figured I had most of what I needed. Wheels were a pair of Miche track wheels with a 120 rear hub, and practically unused. I had a selection of stems, various drop bars, various cranks, some old XT cantis, nice Cane Creek road levers, a choice of seat pins and a nice brown leather Charge spoon saddle. I then got the chance of a set of mini V's cheap so went for them figuring they'd be easier to set up and live with than the cantis, which were always a pain in the backside back in the days when there was nowt else.





First job, waxoyl the frame. I use a sprayer which fits into a standard waxoyl can on my compressor. This is very messy but if you thin the waxoyl with white spirit, the spray coats the inside of the tubes with a thin film. I've done this on all my steel frames and ones that have been used for many years in all weathers are still mint inside. ACF30 spray gets used for awkward nooks and crannies, chainstays and fork blades etc. This then gets left to dry for a few hours.






Next up, what used to be my least favourite job - bashing in the headset. These days I use a Park headset press which is a nice thing. I also have a 30 Ton press for the stubborn ones. The Cane Creek headset I got off the BB forum classified is nice in that it has a slight machined reduced diameter which allows you to push it in a bit square prior to pressing it it fully. These are half the price of a hope one so guess what I'll be buying next time. You can use a bit of M20 threaded bar, nuts and washers to do this but the Park tool is really nice, comes with stepped spacers and makes it a breeze. The crown race put up a fight as it was quite tight. I prefer the split ones as you can just push them on.


Next up, in with the forks, put some spacers on and fit a stem to hold it all in place. I've not cut the steerer yet as I want to have a sit on it and measure up. On three of my bikes I've been a bit keen cutting the steerer and ended up with bars too low. Given my age and dodgy back I err on the side of long and upright. I hate the horrible star fangled nut things so used a BBB wedge type steerer bung. Lavish use of copper grease figures in all of these proceedings. Then on with a seat and put the wheels in. I'd converted the front to QR and spaced the 120 hub out to 130. The cross check has forward facing drop outs with adjuster screws sticking out the back. Years of motorcycle ownership has lead me to appreciate screw adjusters to tension the chain but these adjusters only locate the wheel, not adjust it as they would for rear facing drop outs. I contemplated various designs in my head to turn these into things that would drag the wheel back but in the end got a Surly hurdy gurdy chain tensioner. Despite the stupid name it's a nice piece of machined stainless kit designed specially for this or other forward loading drop out frames. The only issue is that the wheel spindle is a bit short . I'll have to get a new axle but this will do for now.






The plan was to use these RF 46 cm deep drop bars cut down to bull bars. But they have a short reach and initial sittings-on suggested they would be uncomfortable. I then did my usual internal debate about bars and stems and what I could buy; but in the end stuck to my original determination to not end up spending huge amounts of dosh on new bits for what is only going to be a commuter come mess-around machine. So the RF bars got returned to the back hedge and the bars I'd had on the track back went on. They are a wee bit narrow but fine for now. Note short stem (70mm with a 35 degree angle). I just do not get fitting a 120 stem on any bike road or off-road. And thats speaking as someone who (like everyone else) had a 150 stem on my mountainbike, back in the day. Short stems make for very light and responsive steering and mean your not facing the front tyre. For me its crucial to minimise the angle I lean forward on a bike, in order to minimise back pain. So short stems are a double whammy meaning sweet steering and a nice comfy riding position. After further debate I decided to lop an inch and a half off the steerer tube.









Another job I used to make a meal of. Using a saw guide helps immensely - this is an Ice toolz one. Annoyingly my only hacksaw blade was blunt so I reached for the power saw which is a bit of a scary thing but licked through the cromo tube in jig time.


I wired up the brakes and got them set up with minimum fuss, justifying getting the mini V's. Got a good lever feel so they should be fine. There is some amount of nonsense talked on the net about setting up cantis or V brakes. People talk about having lots of 'modulation' for good feel, but this is what I (and any other motorcyclist) refers to as a crap, spongy brake. I like to feel the blocks hitting the rim / pads hitting the disk; followed by a generous dose of braking power.


I was still awaiting the arrival of a BB so cracked on with fitting the mudguards. These were previously on my Strag but were a bit narrow for 40mm tyres. For the 35mm marathons I'd bunged on this they were ideal. After a bit of stay faffing and messing with bits of bracket, bolts and washers I got them on. The front was a bit tight under the brake cable so I may need to fiddle a bit more. The brake works fine however, it just rubs the 'guard a bit. I always run the front stays to the mid fork mounts. This gives a much stiffer front guard as the stays end up very short. It requires a bit of bending and fiddling but works really well and eliminates horrible mudguard off tyre rattle. I don't use the safety clips on the end of the stays. I appreciate why these are fitted but I don't like them, despite once having a rock up mudguard / jam fork / face plant / cracked skull scenario many years ago. They wear quickly (The SKS ones with the waggly bit on the plastic lump that detaches under force) meaning they can detach under normal use. Having a loose stay flailing about as you descend a gravel track is not a good thing. The chances of a stick getting caught up are slim, and I just take extra care when riding trails covered in sticks.... Whilst doing this I taped over all the weld vent holes. Water can get in these holes and can't drain out so the tubes could rust from the inside, even though I've waxoyled them. I also tape round the chainstays where the tyre goes and up the seat stays where the bike will get lent against posts.


The BB arrived so it was on with the (laughably simple) drive train. I had various crank / ring / BB options but fancied using a set of old Ultegra cranks that were actually on my last Cross-check. They are Octalink and the BB I had was worn out. They don't last as long as the square taper ones and cost £32 so I may revert to square taper at some point. Ring wise I had a choice but went with 38 to the 16T back sprocket. Gearing on fixies takes up a lot of internet space and the 'standard' seems to be 46/16. Fine for the city or open road without any big hills but way over-geared for my needs. I'd had 42/16 on the track bike with the 23mm tyres so 38/16 with the 35's will work out a wee bit lower in terms of gear inches. Note I use circumference of the wheel to calculate this (not the stupid convention of diameter only to compare with a mythical penny-farthing!) as you get a real value i.e the length traveled for one pedal revolution. A check of the chainline with a straight edge indicated it was spot on by good fortune. More wrenching and tightening, a quick check of everything I've done so far and.....






Boom, finished. Just need to ride it, faff a bit, ride it some more, faff some more and then get on with it. So it proved. First ride of 12 miles revealed a few minor tweaks required and then the next day it was out for a proper ride. As it happens I ended up doing 60 miles (mostly in the rain) and it was great. But knackering as freewheeling involves taking the feet of the pedals which looks highly dubious to me.


In fact I've been checking out all of those youtube vids showing nutters screaming around various metropolis's on fixies with scant regard for personal safety. (Search for Terry Bartensen, they are well worth a look.) There isn't much scope for such silliness round here and I'm too old for it anyway; but its clear that fun is to be had on these things, which makes a change from my normal bike riding exploits. Next blog from the hospital!

June BAM

Midsummer. The longest day of the year and the official start of Summer 2020. Given the weather we've had throughout Spring it seems inevitable that we are in for another 'typical' Scottish Summer.... This went through my head as I looked at a final weather forecast prior to starting out on my annual midsummers ride. Saturday looked to be fine but Sunday was going to be wet, starting at the notional dawn of around 3.00am. The plan was to ride until last light, await the dawn and then ride home. Sleep would figure in this plan and as usual, I had numerous bivvy sites in mind.

So 1.30pm saw me head roughly east on a not dissimilar route to my August '19 BAM. That day I'd intended to ride the whole of the Fife Pilgrims route to St. Andrews, bivvy in Tentsmuir forest then ride back. A somewhat damp forecast curtailed this plan and I ended up in the five star bivvy spot at Falkland. That wasn't an option today but I figured I wouldn't need it. Unlike last year, the trails were pretty much dry apart from a few bits thanks to Fridays rain. This led me to depart the Loch Leven trail at Scotlandwell and head straight up the Bishop hill on what is a fierce climb, largely pushed given my single gear. It was roasting going over the Lomonds but the trails were running great. I've not been over here since the beginning of March so it was fab to get re-acquainted. 

The car park at West Lomond was mobbed. I watched a large group of people setting up their barby in the adjacent disused quarry and got out of there sharpish.... As per last year I hit the Pilgrims Way at Balbirnie. It was quiet, dry and I had a stiff tailwind.

Path through the fields. This was stubble last year and hard work. This year the farmer has left a margin and the path is a smooth and firm line.

My fairly TLS load out and the Lomonds behind

Pedaling up through Kennoway revealed much traffic. So much for any idea that peoples travel habits would change once restrictions on movement were eased. People seem to have rushed back to their cars as soon as they were able. Beyond here the route is great as previously reported. It was now early evening and I had the place to myself, Likewise the next few sections to Ceres. Sunshine, smooth, easy trails through pleasant farmland, views to the hills to the north; all added up to a fab ride, all cares forgotten. I rode straight through Ceres and continued east on what was now new ground. More of the above in the event, then a stiff climb up to Kinninmonth farm where I left the Pilgrims route to head north to the coastal path. 


North Fife farmland



Riding through Guardbridge I could smell the chippy and was sorely tempted to stop. I did have all my food with me however so stuck to my guns, and route. Tea was needed though given the plan to keep riding until last light and it was now after 7. Entering Tentsmuir forest I was therefore on the lookout for a quiet spot to have food. A vague line to my right took me to a sunny clearing with enough breeze to keep the midges away. Food was heated and eaten, including a much needed cuppa. As it happened I wasn't alone, a load of mosquitoes decided to join me. I'm never quite sure where and when you get mozzies and I've not encountered them very often. I guess the mild winter and the current damp but warm conditions around me was their ideal breeding ground. Oh well, live and let live. (When I got home I discovered I'd been thoroughly savaged by the little swines!)

Fed and rested off I went through the forest edge, past the spot where I'd bivvied in Midsummer 2017. There were still no parking and road closed signs everywhere but I suspect this will change soon and Tentsmuir, like the other forests, will become mobbed once more. From Morton Loch Nature Reserve I hit the tarmac and started my return west. There is a few options off road along here, including the Coastal Path. But this is a bit faffy with lots of gates; and the other options needed to be scoped when it wasn't after 8pm and I was 50 miles from home. 

I rejoined the FCP near Brunton and started looking for bivvy spots as the miles were taking their toll. That said I made it up the climb past Normans Law without too much effort (or pushing) and started checking out the woods. Hmm, someone seems to have established a permanent camp up here with a campervan, awning, various huts and teepees. No way was I stopping here as they would inevitably have a heard of rabid mutts about the place so instead I hared down the long descent to Glenduckie. Its odd that such an encampment is tolerated by the landowner (who would typically have them firmly evicted) or the locals. It does seem an odd place though - a real land that time forgot. The weirdness continued approaching the tiny community of Glenduckie when I passed a group of teenage girls glammed up to the nines, wandering through the farmyard.....

I lifted water out of a burn just past Dunbog. I've taken to carrying my filter on these trips as good water is hard to come by, unlike the Highlands, and the filter means you can pretty much drink anything. I'd already filled up at Clatto res but the heat made me want to keep topped up. Finally I was on the last climb up to Weddersbie hill. I knew I'd get a bivvy spot in the woods here and as it was now 10.30 I was done. Sure enough I found a nice sheltered spot by an old wall in amongst some broom, got the tarp up and flaked out after 9 hours and 82 miles. I lay in splendour sipping whisky and eating chocolate whilst looking at the thickening cloud through the tree branches. The sunset had been fairly red so maybe the forecast rain wouldn't appear.

3am and I woke to the unwelcome sound of rain on the tarp. So much for welcoming the sun. It was just starting to get light but I rolled over and crashed out once more. Then at 5 I was woken by my bladder. The rain was heavy and the wind quite strong in the trees above me. By the time I'd got my gear on, done what had to be done and got back into my bag, I was wide awake. I guess I could have got back to sleep eventually but I figured there was little point. Home, a hot shower and breakfast was 2 hours or so away. I had a quick cuppa, packed up and headed out into the rain. 


Hello Summer....


Another good flat tarp pitch

It lasted through Pitmedden forest but by the time I got home the sky was clearing. Total distance was 112 miles in about 10 and a half hours of riding, the longest I've done on the single speed. All being well there is a chance I will be able to head north next month. I'm not holding my breath given how the Scottish Government is playing the 'who can keep the restrictions in the longest' game but if I can, I've got a few trip ideas, including a monster!

May BAM

This one seems to have been a long time in coming after my back garden bivvys of March and April. I'd deliberately hung off until the end of the month on the basis that a reduction in restrictions were imminent and un-restricted exercise was now officially permitted. So it proved and better yet, the weather forecast for the whole weekend was looking stunning.

I'd also actually taken the Friday off and had planned a longish day ride to celebrate our new found freedoms. I did resist going to visit my parents in Durham however..... 

This ride turned into a disaster / opportunity to test ones ingenuity in bodged repairs. I'd gone about 40 miles when a once per wheel rev ticking noise became a thump. On inspection a large bulge on the tyre, about an inch across, was the culprit and it was growing as I looked. A quick grab for the valve and I saved the tyre from blowing out, but now what to do? Fortunately I had my full tyre first aid kit with me, so I set too. For some reason the carcass was de-laminating with threads exposed over several sections. Everything I had with me had to be used to hold the tyre together - thank goodness for superglue! In went a tube and I inflated it to about 30psi. No bulges but the ride home was a bit wobbly as the tyre hadn't seated properly at this low pressure. It made it home however the tyre boots had nibbled holes in both my spare tubes by the time I got back to the house.

So Saturday I was feeling a bit apprehensive about disappearing into the wilds again and made sure I had selection of tyre bodging stuff as well as my usual repair kit and tools. Funnily enough I've had a run of punctures over the last couple of months, despite not riding anywhere drastic, so hopefully the above would draw a line under this period. I loaded up the Jones, aware that there was no chance of rain, it was going to be a scorcher but could be cool at night. Full self sufficiency was the order of the day so in went a boil in the bag meal and other food and after some stove deliberation I went with the Soto. Its heavy and bulky but meths burners don't do simmering and I was out of gas.

Ready for the off, fairly TLS despite the food load.

My route took me roughly east into a stiff breeze which was a relief after the roaster that Friday had been. I traced various trails and back roads towards the Lomonds, only encountering others on the Loch Leven trail. I've avoided this popular path recently but felt it would be quiet at this late part of the day. Yes and no. The small beach at the east end was busy and I met a few groups walking either side of this but as the car parks are all shut, the rest of it was quite apart from an occasional bike. Falkland to Collessie was done on a couple of easy trails and some fine woodland single track before I climbed into the eastern Ochills above Newburgh. This is a route I've done many times and it largely follows the crest of the ridge west.

Howe of Fife - a large flat area of rich farmland.

Looking south to the Lomonds from Pitmedden forest.

It was just after 7 as I left Pitmedden and followed various back roads to Glenfarg before climbing back up into the hills above Milnathort. There are definitely options for a more off road route through here but now is not the time to go trail blazing! I'd been thinking of various bivvy spots but it eventually occurred to me that I'd been following a similar route to my 2018 February BAM. Then I'd found a snug spot in the woods just off the road over to Path of Condie and I figured a repeat visit would be the easiest option tonight. I was starting to feel a bit weary, the wind was quite strong so a sheltered site well off the beaten track was in order.

Pitch up shot. I needn't have bothered with the tarp given the forecast but I'd noticed a haar forming out by the coast and if it spread inland things could get damp. Plus I wanted the practice putting it up.

So I was able to sit in the open making and eating food whilst listening to the woodland sounds around me. After the bizzareness of the last two months this was like a major pressure relief valve for all the stresses, worries and uncertainties. Eventually I turned in for a read before dropping off. I woke later on and lay away listening to a couple of owls calling to each other, then woke again to the glorious dawn chorus. Finally at 8.30 I got up, had breakfast, packed up and left.

My route home continued west along a wooded ridge before descending to Dunning Glen. I paid a brief visit to Glendevon woods to pick up a couple of bits of single track, then cut across to Glendevon itself. 

Looking west up onto the main Ochills. My onward route is the wooded hill to the left. So one more climb over Commonedge and Seamab hill before my usual back road and trail route home. The icing on the cake was meeting up with friends who live just outside the village. We had a lengthy chat and cuppa sat outside in the baking sunshine.

So. Second ride on the SS Jones with bags which went well. My plan is to do a couple of spare bivvies over the next two months to make up for the two I missed in March and April. They will all be fairly local I suspect but I've got plenty of sites to choose from so no worries with that.

April BAM

Not much to report on this one, I did another backyard bivvy made slightly more challenging by my ongoing lawn extension program getting in the way of my pitch. I'd been out for my daily ride earlier so made do with a mandatory lap of the garden pre-pitch up. I guess I could have loaded up for my ride but it would look a mite suspicious disappearing off into the woods with bags on. Hey ho.....

I did at least make the effort to load up properly - actually my typical overnight loadout, pint pot excepted (I've had good results decanting a bottle of beer into a 500ml nalgene bottle) and pretty TLS if I may say.

This is about as technical as it gets. Soon all this will be grass.

The pitch. Normally I'd use the bike instead of the barrow but I'm not about to leave my beloved Jones lying outside overnight, even in this relatively crime free neighbourhood! This is my first night out under a flat tarp. I tried one a couple of years ago but was trying to use it with various bike bits instead of poles, which was too faffy for my liking. Enlightenment came in the use of a pole (the same one I use for the Deschutes) and proper guys and pegs. Even with that it knocks just over 100g's off my deschutes / lightweight bivvy bag combo. It also takes up a lot less space. It won't be quite as weather proof, particularly against wind and rain but it should be more versatile in restricted pitches and woodland. Interestingly this combo is less than 100g's heavier than my Rab ascent bivvy bag and a lot more useful.... 

I think the trick is to work out one standard pitch and use it all the time so you get quick at it. Presence of trees, fences and walls enable variations. So I'll give it a go for real once we get out of this carry on. I've a faint hope that I might manage a proper bivvy at the end of next month looking at what the news up here is saying. I'll probably bag another BYB mid month just in case although I'm running out of ideas for themes!

The Winter

I wouldn't typically write about the kind of things I've been up to in the first two and a half months of this year as they aren't that exciting really, in the grand scheme of things. However given the current situation and the fact that I'm not going to be doing any kind of riding worth writing about for a considerable period of time, and given that I have a lot of time on my hands, I thought I'd put pen to paper.

After my fabulous ride across the Cairngorm Plateau on Hogmanay I had a feeling that this would be the start of a fabulous winter. Hmmm. In hindsight this was somewhat optimistic however we got there eventually. After a couple of good rides with friends after bringing in the new year I headed home wondering what was in store.

Lots of wind and rain as it happens. The trails were saturated and every time I ventured out I ended up like a drowned rat. I had one good ride up the Ochills on one of my usual circuits with a hint of snow which developed over that week but by the time the next weekend came it had all gone and the rain returned. Another respite enabled my January BAM and then the rain returned again.

A dark January night commuting home in some rare snow. It was very wet....

February came with little change. I'd booked a couple of days off work for a long weekend including my birthday. The plan had been to decant to the Highlands for some skiing and biking as well as my Feb BAM. Yet another storm was due to come through which canned that idea. I got the BAM anyway in local woods and got home before the weather kicked off. 

Then the day after it finally looked like it was going in the right direction. The heavy rain turned to snow above 500m and came down heavily. Monday looked like it was going to be more of the same but on a gale force westerly wind. Going north would be pointless so I took a chance on walking up my local hills (the Ochills) to see if there was any snow worthy of a repeat visit on the skis the next day. This day started bright but breezy. Climbing above around 350m I hit the snow line. The wind suddenly ramped up and so began a battle of wind, blizzard and spin drift. I made it up to the summit of Ben Cleuch but this was far enough. I'd dressed accordingly but the wind chill was brutal. 

The good news was snow, lots and lots of snow. Tuesday looked like it would be brighter and less breezy so a plan was hatched.

Walking up from the Castle Campbell car park above Dollar, skis strapped to my back, hinted that less windy still meant 'gale force.' Oh well at least the sun was shining. In fact things went well as the winds had blown a large amount of snow off the plateau and into the shallow valley you traverse above Castle Campbell. So the skis went on after only a mile and up we went. Again the blizzards came and went and great plumes of spin-drift off the summits in the rare bright spells told a different story to the weather forecast.

So it proved as on passing 500m I was once again engaged in a battle to stay upright. Leeward slopes had caught vast amounts of snow and even windward slopes were ski-able as its all grass up here so you can slide over it without fear of damaging bases. After struggling west past Whitewisp hill, I eventually ground my way up to Tarmangie and looked west to Ben Cleuch. It seemed to be miles away and despite having done this traverse on a couple of occasions in the fab winter of 2018, it seemed far to far today. I satisfied myself with a descent then a lap of Skythorn hill catching a few big fields of snow on the way. Then back up the way I came and off the end of Tarmangie down a great patch of snow which took me to my ubiquitous Sitka Spruce tree that I'd bivvied under in January. Despite providing a reasonable amount of shelter I didn't linger long - just enough time to eat much needed food and drink my tea - before departing, the fierce wind propelling me along without effort. Better still, thanks to the wind, I was able to ski further down than I walked up, almost back to the car.

The following weekend saw yet more wind and rain, although it was clear that high ground was getting even more snow. All we needed was the weather to enjoy it! Two very wet bike rides were done, one taking me east and back by the recently opened Pilgrims way that I'd followed east on my August bivvy last year. By the time I'd finished the water was pouring out of my pants.....

A week later and finally the weather looked better. I decided to do a bit of a ski recce on the skinny skis and if things looked good, would return on the big skis the next day. I pretty much repeated my tour of a fortnight previously however more walking up and down was required, due to to the fluctuating temps having wiped out the lower level snow. The wind was still pretty fierce however and patches of sun brief between more cloud, blizzards and spin drift. This was becoming monotonous.... 

On a whim I descended off the leeward side of Whitewisp hill to see if, as I hoped, the snow had got blown into this wide area with plenty of shelter and a couple of burn lines. Sure enough as I picked my way down through the heather patches (true Scottish skiing!), a vast snow slope down to the confluence of two burns was revealed. I skied down a ways then exited out, the snow so deep I was able to ski across three fences, one a deer fence.

So the next day I was up there again, but this time on the big skis. It does surprise me the looks people give you when you strap a pair of skis to your bag, in somewhere like the Ochills. People totally underestimate these hills given that they are just rolling bumps rather than the jaggy real mountains of further north. But there is a large amount of terrain above 500m and this is a different world when you get weather like we'd had. Sure enough above 500m it all went white. I'd thought of heading along to see what the leeward slopes of Kingseat were like. There was some rather drastic lines down various gulleys but its all steep. I'd no intention of being the first person to be killed in an avalanche in the Ochills so gave them a miss. Instead I retraced my way back to where I'd been the previous day and hit the big slope I'd found. Wow. It was all firm windslab but you can get a good edge in so many turns followed. Lower down it was softening in the sun but that didn't stop me doing it six times.

Pow day in the Ochills - having this within a few miles of where I live is a good thing.

Finally I traversed back across the south eastern flanks of Whitewisp searching out a filled in burn line I'd spied on the way up. I picked this up at its top and put in a final dozen turns down to where it ran out into the grass. Twenty minutes walk saw me back at the car, several low level dog walkers looking at my skis and bright orange boots in total confusion. One local chap asked me what it was like and it turned out he was well familiar with these hills and their weather so knew where I'd been and was un-surprised at the snow volumes.

So March came along and spring beckoned. But winter was now in full swing. Snow levels were building day by day at the five Scottish ski centres. I'd grabbed a day at Glenshee and on a hot tip skinned out of Tom Dearg into Coire Fionn. This is part of the area but closed this day as the links were wind scoured and bare. There followed two runs in the best Scottish powder I'd every skied. About a foot of fresh over a firm base in blazing sunshine.

Coire Fionn and Glas Maol.

By now the crisis was looming. I'd been stressing about flying abroad so when the ski holiday was canned, at the 11th hour, I was relieved. That weekend the weather didn't look great so the bike was dragged out with a view to seeing if a further Ochills ski trip was justified. This turned into a typically brutal fat bike on wet snow and windslab day leaving me wrecked by the end of it. A poor forecast for the Sunday meant a low level route was in order. We were making plans for the week and Scotland look like the place to be - in fact it was then the only place in Europe where lift served skiing was available. We took full advantage of this with a day at Glenshee, two ace days at Glencoe and three nights away, the Clachaig providing our final pub served beer for what now looks like months to come. We felt redeemed for our missed holiday but the future looked black.

Alpine Ski conditions in Scotland

Rare to see Ben Nevis in winter, particularly this one!

Coire Adair leading into Creag Meaghaid

Coming back from our trip north revealed a stunning winter vista. I felt an overpowering urge to head back the next day with skis in order to experience what would be truly awesome conditions. But the message was out - stay away, as you might not get rescued if it goes wrong. I wrestled with my conscience but common sense prevailed. Skiing mountains alone, even in these weather conditions was too risky. Plus I couldn't be bothered with another drive north. A trip south was considered then discounted so the local hills beckoned once more. The temps had risen and the big patches I'd skied in previous weeks were now shrunken beyond what was worth dragging a pair of skis up for. Not so for a fat bike and I spent several hours hunting out and joining up patches of iron hard snow. 

The next day was sunnier still and I felt the exploration bug. Time was running out for long rides and I knew I had to get as many in as I could before the inevitable happened. My route took me east and north on various wee roads and then up into the hills above Milnathort. These too are technically still Ochills but are around half the height of the main area above Clackmannashire. They are also extensively forested and it was into the woods I headed after the steady climb out of Dalquiech. I've had a few goes at tracing routes across these hills. There are various forest tracks and a few paths to boot but so far my trips had involved a lot of fighting my way through clear fell and windblow. There is a core path route through further north but this is a bit rubbish. On a hunch I followed a large track west which went beyond what was marked on the map and looked like it might lead to a ride which would link into another track.

Wa-hey, at the track end there was a vague but identifiable path up a steep climb between new planting and an established forest. This continued to a low ridge and turned west right up to the track. I went off route to sit in the sun eating lunch before descending quickly down to Dunning Glen. Down the road aways is Glen Devon forest, I headed in and spent an hour or so tracing tracks and finding a few further bits of single-track. Bivvy spots were appearing thick and fast on this ride and plans were being hatched for the coming weeks. If only I knew what was coming.....

Looking north east across north Fife and Angus to the Glen Shee hills

This is my personal ski slope of three weeks previous, now much reduced in size.

I dropped down to Glen Devon itself and then traced a final loop into Glen Quey, over to Common edge hill and finally a long descent back to the road above Dollar. Following my usual mix of back roads and trails home felt that I was coming to the end of things. I still hoped that the next weekend would enable further expeditions but a premonition that this would not be loomed in my mind.

Monday 23rd of March, 9.30pm. The lockdown started.

March Bivvy

This one didn't quite go according to plan....

The plan, such as it was, was to head out on the last weekend in March - basically depart the house on Friday evening after work and head north-ish, returning by the Sunday evening. This was premised on being away every other weekend in March. The long range forecast looked promising and it was all looking good.

The ski holiday I'd meant to be going on the previous week was the first thing to fall by the wayside. A relief really as getting stranded abroad (or confined to a hotel for a week) is my idea of hell, not holiday. So in fact I could have done the bivvy sooner, and in hindsight should have. Me and two friends substituted Austrian Skiing for Scottish Skiing for a few days and managed a final pub night before the restrictions started coming in earnest. I still could have grabbed a night out that final weekend but I was toying with heading south to visit parents and by the time it was clear this would be a bad idea it was too late to get out. Then came the lockdown.....

Like everyone else whose into disappearing into the wilderness I had plenty of thoughts and options to get a proper bivvy done but it didn't feel right. Like as not if I did head out I'd be so worried I'd not sleep and end up having a crap time. I hemmed and hawed but then Stuart on the Bearbones forum changed the BAM rules given the emergency. Back gardens were in. The bivvy was on.

I decided to do it properly. The Ice Cream Truck was dragged out, bags strapped on and stuff put in bags. It was due to be a cold one - around zero - so in went the winter bag and the soto muka stove. Also in were a few beers and food for the night.



My 'departure' was timed for last light. For forms sake I did a lap of the garden (front and back) and then pitched up in a nice sheltered spot (on my back lawn next to one of my sheds)


Tricky rock section thanks to some earlier gardening

Must cut the grass next week

Apart from a vague concern that this would confirm to my neighbours that I was bonkers, it felt right. In fact it was a laugh. I tried a different method of putting up the deschutes which avoided laying it on the grass (if its raining this immediately gets the inside of the tarp wet - not ideal when you then get in yourself), laid out the bivvy bag, got into my PJ's and into my bag. It was only 8pm but what the hey, I had nothing else on. So I heated up a couple of boil in the bag meals, had a few beers, read my book and listened to the night sounds. Living in a small village surrounded by countryside means this is a rewarding pastime - owls, distant far animals and passing cars (oh well can't have everything)



Tea up!

I eventually turned in and....went out like a light. I'd not slept well all week, largely down to various worries indirectly relating to the crisis, and had visions of lying awake for a few hours before giving up in disgust. In the event the next thing I knew it was dawn accompanied by a cacophany of singing birds. I've never experienced anything quite like it. My many bivvies of 2018 and the few I've done since all seemed to be in places away from your typical small bird habitats so the dawn chorus had been a fairly muted affair. Normally at home I have two layers of glass and walls between me and the birds so it rarely wakes me. What a joy. It went on for around 15 minutes and then I nodded off again. The next thing it was 9am and time for breakfast (technically 8am as the clocks had jumped forward). I had a cuppa then packed up and after one more lap of the back garden headed in for breakfast proper.

Morning view

So - my shortest ever ride to a bivvy but it was worth it. It got me out of the house - even if it was only by 12 feet. I got some valuable kit-sorting and tarp erecting time and it felt like an entirely appropriate thing to do.

Looking at the current situation its clear my April bivvy is also going to be in the back garden and unless there is a radical improvement in the crisis May's as well. Not what I'd thought when I started my 2020 BAM campaign but if there is one thing I've learned in this life you never take anything for granted. So I'll be back with another backyard bivvy soon enough but I'll be staring into the future for when we get back on track.