Embracing the darkness

For anyone who works Monday to Friday at this time of year it would be very easy to restrict the road cycling to the weekend. But if you do then I think you are missing out on an opportunity.

Riding in the dark does have its problems but they are overcome by decent planning and provision. I ride on rural A and B roads so a decent lighting set up is required. I have two Hope 1 lights on the front and and depending on the road conditions I have them set differently. The most difficult time is when the roads are wet and on days like that I have both on full power. If the roads are dry then I run one on full power and the other on a lower setting or even blinking. At the back I have a Cateye with two independent rows of LEDs and side lights along with a seat stay mounted Fibre Flare in blink mode which has to be one of the brightest things I've ever seen. I also have a smaller Cateye rear light on the middle pocket of my jersey. Loads of reflective strips on my clothing and two extra reflective bands on my legs make me pretty bright. I've had it on good authority that I'm well lit up and easy to see. Job done!

My other advice about riding in the dark is about routes. I stick to well known roads not too far from home. I don't think the hours of darkness is the time to be riding on roads I don't know well or a long way from home. You do have to guard against complacency though and be aware that road surfaces can change from day to day. I found myself too close for comfort to a fallen branch the other morning after a windy night. And you do run the risk of meeting the occasional wild animal. My most surprising encounter with animals though was a flock of sheep coming down a hill because they were being moved from one field to another. My other tip is to keep it relatively short. You probably don't want to be riding for more than an hour and a half or so. I would suggest a maximum of two hours.

But I don't want to put you off. Riding in the dark can be magical. I will always remember cycling along a ridge road with all the lights of the towns along both sides of the Forth spread out before me. I should say it was cold that evening but nothing UK cyclists shouldn't be able to cope with. Remember that at night the temperature is unlikely to rise so make sure you are warm when you set off. My preferred dark rides are done in the morning which often has the advantage that you ride into the light. The ride that led me to write this occured last week and while I was home before sunrise I had the fabulous experience of watching the black sky turn dark blue and ever lighter blue as I cycled home. Glorious!

If you don't have powerful lights or live in a bigger town don't think this is not for you. Go out early, ride around your local streets and watch the place get ready for the day. I once did 20 miles of little loops in town and it couldn't have been more interesting! I followed the progress of the bin lorry as they did their rounds. What they thought of me I have no idea.

Morning Ride

It just takes one

Today I had one of those experiences that is thankfully very rare. But the fact that they happen at all is the reason why cyclists can feel threatened on the road. I've ridden thousands of miles and encountered (I suspect) thousands of cars. I would say 90% are great, 5% a little close, 4% too close, 0.9% way too close and then the 0.1% just plain terrifying.
The point is it just takes one of these encounters to go a little wrong and I might not be here. Or I might be here but significantly altered. Neither scenario is a pleasant thought and I can see why some non-cyclists can't believe the risks we "roadies" take and why some "roadies" are very nervous.
This morning's incident was even worse for being in town; normally a slower speed environment and although towns have other dangers (car doors, dogs, pedestrians etc) they are usually safer in terms of life threatening incidents. Round here anyway.
The close call went like this. I was arriving at a roundabout with three roads, one to my left, mine and one to my right. I was turning right. British road regulations gives right of way to vehicles to the driver's (cyclist's) right. I checked the road on the right and it was clear. I checked the road on the left and it was also clear; I'm not stupid - car drivers are sometimes a little odd when it comes to bicycles. I checked the right road again and carried on as it was still clear. It was early in the ride and I was slightly dubious about the grip on the road (cold and slightly damp isn't a good combination) so I was taking it slowly. Perhaps this was lucky because the next thing I was aware of was a red car speeding through the gap between my front wheel and the pavement. It sped off up the hill. Looking back I realised I was aware of the engine noise from my left, of a car that wasn't slowing down. This tone is easily recognisable but is usually heard from directly behind. Experience has taught me that a car coming up behind me like that is not going to give me much room or respect but an overtaking manoeuvre is a very different thing from being hit from the side. Perhaps, just perhaps, I should have been more aware. But I think that misses the point. I had right of way and, from my position, this driving wasn't an error of judgement but a deliberate act of someone who didn't want to wait 50 yards until an overtake would have been safe and easy. It's nice to know that my life isn't even worth a few seconds from someone else's journey.
And then there's a second issue. This incident shook me up and left me feeling very vulnerable for a bit of my journey. I almost turned back and went home. I shouldn't have to do that, and I shouldn't be made to feel like that. I'll remind you of my comment above. It only takes one. Please make sure it's not you.

As to the ride itself, I don't really have much to say. Once I got past Crail and started to settle down the sun was out and the day was beautiful. Basically I pootled about in south east Fife on the flatter roads with two longer climbs in the midst of them. The views across the Forth and down to Kirkaldy were lovely and the camaraderie of the other cyclists I saw was lovely. I could have done more but by the time I got back to St. Andrews I was happy to call it a day. More miles towards the target, and a (mostly) lovely day out on the roads.

The Ride

The art of going out

"Are you really going to go out in this?" asked The Stoker as the wind battered on the window. I supposed I was but I have to admit to not feeling up to it. The beginnings of winter have hit Fife and I have yet grow accustomed to the idea. As much as anything it's the increase in paraphernalia required to go cycling; lights, extra top layers, longs, overshoes - it's a faff!
Last Sunday was particularly hard. I had an opportunity to ride for as long as I wanted without feeling guilty that we weren't out on the tandem. And at the moment that's useful because I've set myself a tough by-the-end-of-the-year mileage target that's only going to get harder to hit if the weather turns really bad. However the weather wasn't playing ball with a strong westerly wind that was going to make going anywhere hard. I know you should ride into the wind at the beginning of a ride and home with the wind at your back but it's tough if that's the only reasonable choice.
The wind was also making a mockery of my plans for the day. I had planned to ride over the Tay Bridge and into the hills between Dundee and Perth; a first foray into territory praised by one of my pals who happens to live that way. But if you've ever crossed the Tay Bridge on it's cycleway you'll know how narrow it is and I didn't fancy that with the wind. That left me riding my local roads and try as I might I just couldn't get excited about the prospect.
But targets are targets and I knew that if I didn't go out I would end up being disgusted with myself for wasting an opportunity. It wasn't as if the roads were flooded or icy or anything that would really make me pause before going out. So out I went, plan-less.
I'm not good going out without a plan. Leaving St. Andrews my inner monologue was going something like this;
"Cupar and back would be fine",
"Cupar and back, then Crail and back would be fine. I've always wanted to do those rides back to back" (there's some truth in that),
"Go at least to Craigrothie before turning for Cupar and home",
"What about Freuchie by Chance Inn. Home by the flat roads",
"I hate the road after Chance Inn",
"You need to get some miles in. After all 80 WAS the plan for today",
"Ok, I'll go to Freuchie".

On the way to Freuchie

I tell you now that getting to Freuchie in that wind was hard work. But it did the trick and by the time I got there I was prepared to ride on to Falkland and then on to Newburgh via Auchtermuchty before heading for home. Round 1 to the voice that wanted to get some miles in. On the way to Auchtermucty more persuasion came from the owner of that tricksy voice as I rode into Dunshalt.
"Not much of a challenge this, esepecially as we're not doing much in the way of miles today",
"It's fine. It'll be about 50. We can always tack some on to the end",
"Still not much of a challenge. How about going up the hill from Strathmiglo and over to Abernethy, then Newburgh and home",
"It's really fine",
"The road between here and there - not cycled that yet"
"Oh, alright...."
That new bit of road wasn't easy either. Back into the wind and an bit of an interesting surface made it more challenging than I would have liked. But it was ok and getting to its end left a little trip down the main road to Strathmiglo. As I was approaching the junction where I would join the busy A91 for 200 yards or so another cyclist popped out in front of me. A little bit ahead but tantalisingly close. I assumed they would be turning right and heading to Auchermuchty but, no, they went left. That meant one thing. They were headed up the same hill I was.
That was the best bit of luck I had all day. A target is a target and there's none better than another cyclist on a hill. Being a little too wide for my height, climbing is not something I excel at but I do derive some perverse pleasure climbing hills even during the activity; not just at the top. I determined that I wouldn't rush to catch my quarry but I would put the bike in the correct gear and spin my way up the hill. If I caught them so be it but I deemed it unlikely.
The road twists and turns so spotting the man in front was a game in itself but slowly and surely he hove into view. I knew I would catch him. And about halfway up I came up to his back wheel. He knew I was there. He couldn't have failed to know I was there; this hill makes me breathe! I came alongside and we exchanged pleasantries before I left him. I knew I was on for a good performance up this hill and I was determined to keep the pace (slow as I am) up. I ignored my heart rate, the legs felt good and I soon crested the top before enjoying the slam dunk of a descent to Abernethy. All really good fun. Thanks to whoever you were; I hope you enjoyed the rest of your ride.
From the bottom of the descent to Cupar my ride became tougher mentally because althoughI had the wind behind me my Garmin speed sensor started playing up causing me a few stops before I finally unpaired the sensor which left me blind to my cadence. I'm a ride by numbers kind of guy and I hate not being able to see what the various stats are. It's me, it's the way I ride, I make no apologies.
By Cupar though my mood had improved and I set myself the little challenge of getting up the hill to Pitscottie in the big ring. This also means a cassette sprocket with no more than than 21 teeth. I don't like cross-chaining. And again I worked hard. Then for the big encore I decided that I was going to go for a PB on the downhill stretch of road from Blebo to the edge of St. Andrews. I know it's sad but there's a Strava segment there and I have been hankering for a while to improve my time. Surely this wind would be favourable enough.
So I rested up from Pitscottie to the top of this stretch. You can't rest entirely; there's a couple of little ramps to get up but you can take it easy-ish. So I did. Then the work started. A good downhill start with the wind behind and I was soon over 30mph. Then the flatter section where I had to keep the speed up before a little rise. The wind wasn't perfect here. I could feel (and see on the Garmin) that the heart rate was rising.  I try to stay in control. Over the rise then another helpful slope to pick up speed on. Here it is very important to keep you wits about you here as there's a busy cross roads on this section. I was on the main road and had right of way but cars can't always judge just how fast bikes are going. They don't really expect one to be doing 35mph. I shook my head at a driver sitting at the crossroads and he took my meaning and stayed where he was. Thanks. A little bit more downhill and then the long painful finish which is flat. This is time trial territory. I told my legs to shut up, almost gave up, refused give and pedaled on. Then as I came around the last corner the winds came right onto my back and pushed me on to the speed limit sign and the end of the segment. In Scots parlance I was gubbed. All for 4 seconds off my best time as I discovered later. Great fun though. And very, very silly.
I rode home. And you know what? All told I had a good time. It really is all about the going out.

The Ride

Tandem riding on Skye - part two

Part two of the holiday riding. Much later than it should have been but that's life!


Skye has been quite kind to us on this holiday. Some glorious sunshine and little wind has made for a lovely visit. That's not to say that there hasn't been some bad weather. As I write this the rain is coming down out of clouds barely higher than the loch in the bay. That too has an upside; it keeps the midges away.

Central Loop

There aren't too many roads on Skye so it is quite hard to get lost. It also makes it hard to find meaningful new routes. This ride, however, takes a very natural loop right from the main road outside our cottage. And it avoids all single track roads making for much easier piloting (as the next ride's description will attest to). It does, of course, maintain the non-flat persona for rides around here.
This ride took place on a lovely sunny day with the promise of a south-east breeze to help us through the 2nd and 3rd quarters of the ride. It would mean riding the last 10 miles back into it, which isn't ideal, but was a better proposition than riding the last 10 miles with much up and down!
So with that in mind we set off towards the Sligachan hotel. The start of this ride followed the first few miles of our route to Portnalong but didn't take the turning to Carbost. This time we stayed on the main road and headed down the glen towards the towering shape of Glamaig. This proved to be a very tough section. That SE breeze nagged away and slowed us down; we even had to pedal down the hill to the hotel at Sligachan. How undignified!
And, as usual, what goes down on Skye must go up. The main road from the hotel leads north to Portree via a climb. Never particularly hard it isn't exactly a pushover either. However on this day we were blessed with the breeze behind us and we made short work (read - not much panting) of the hill. We then had a lovely, long descent towards Portree before the last mile or so of undulating road took us to the Aros Centre and their delightful cafe.
This was the first of two planned coffee stops. While we learn to ride together and given the nature of the terrain around Skye two stops in 55 miles seems ideal. We aren't fast and it is useful to get off the bike for a while. It all seems very decadent to me but this is companionable riding at it's most relaxing. With this blog in danger of descending into a review of cafes I can recommend this one too. A lovely mixture of food is available, all at a decent price.
There were some people sitting outside (the weather must have been good) and the tandem was much admired as we went to set off. Luckily we didn't disgrace ourselves and got away cleanly on the next step of our journey. This time the cafe at Dunvegan Castle was our target.
We were on a new piece of road for either of us in terms of cycling. Out of Portree on the main road to Uig. And it starts with a climb. I swear that all the natural routes on this island start with some going up. It just isn't fair. Luckily with cake and coffee (tea for the Stoker) fuelling us we made it up the steep section as we left Portree behind.
Then we had the all important section of downhill. And what a lovely section this was too. It felt like it went on for a very long time indeed. Long enough that I found a new position for my hands which definitely help the aero nature of our riding in times such as this. Skye roads always get the last laugh however and soon it was time to work on going up again. The road rolls in big waves around to Edinbane where it ramps up one last time before Dunvegan.
The word ramp doesn't do this hill justice. I'd cycled it before, training for the cross Scotland jaunt, and it nearly did for me that day. So on this fine day I was well prepared for it. We progressed smoothly up the first ramp and enjoyed the little bit of respite before the main event. According to Strava this hill is a lovely 1.7 miles long at an average gradient of 4.7%. Now, I know that isn't tough in the least for serious bike riders but for me and the Stoker it's hard enough. But because we knew it was coming we picked an easy to gear at the bottom and just got stuck into a rhythm, all the way to top. I was very, very impressed with the Stoker. Even more so on the way down the reward on the other side. Getting up to over 40mph near the bottom of the descent was reward for all our hard work.
One more tiny little incline and I thought we would be cruising into Dunvegan. I should know better. The localised wind was blowing from the south and west requiring us to pedal our way to the village before giving us a little help up to the cafe. It was well worth the effort though with lovely coffee (tea for the stoker) and a scones. Yum!
Then back onto the road for the flatter (slightly) road home. The wind wasn't helping on this section but we did well although I had an impression that the stoker's legs began to tire towards the end. I wasn't surprised as for us this was a combination of hills and miles that was pushing our boundaries a little. We enjoyed the downhill fast bits and suffered a little on hills but our cottage was soon reached. A lovely day out and a ride to be recommended.

The ride

Northern Loop

In a complete departure from the norm for us we decided to take the bike to Portree and ride from there. The forecast had looked good but when we got up there was low cloud (you have to go to Skye to appreciate how low it can get) and a little bit of drizzle around. Not much wind so that encouraged us to get going. This was much more traumatic than I would have liked. To put the bike on the car I had to strip some bits off, check the tyre pressures and sort the bike carrier out. All in the presence of Skye's greatest failing; the midge. Horrible tiny flying blood-suckers they are and by the time the bike was ready to go I was covered in fairly big lumps, one of which was right under my eye. Lovely. Time has taught me though that while I come up in great big lumps they tend to subside within 2 hours so I was confident that by the time we were cycling I'd be ok.

We drove to Portree and parked up. Then we reversed the process I'd done at the cottage. This all took time but eventually we were ready to go. By now though we had company in the form of a couple who were interested in the tandem. It's a talking point much more than the equivalent two single bikes. On this occasion I wished it wasn't. And then the Stoker realised that they vaguely knew the woman from the couple. More conversation. And I was getting bitten by midges again....

Finally we were off and up through Portree we went. Only to stop again after half a mile or so to put the lights on which I'd forgotten to do in amongst the chat in the car park. Off again, and straight into one of Skye's many, many hills. I had been hoping for encouraging views of the Storr on this section but the low cloud was still present and we just concentrated on getting the job done.

The Storr on a better day

When we got to the inevitable downhill before the next rise I realised that I'd probably chosen my clothes incorrectly for the ride ahead. Shorts and the athletic-fit top were not the best but at least I had my arm warmers. I kept telling myself we'd just have to pedal hard and fast. This is harder when you're on a tandem, at least if you want still want to be talking to your partner at the end of the day, that is.
After the Storr there's lots of ups and downs to keep the cyclist entertained. And all the more if you are on a tandem. We had more than we bargained for on the first descent. A big tour bus overtook us and then caused us to have to brake to slow down for it. Very, very annoying that; it killed our momentum.
As we headed to Lealt we had another descent but unfortunately a much steeper climb out. And the idiot pilot got the gear changes on the chainring horribly wrong and off popped the chain! Luckily I got my foot unclipped before we did a double comedy dismount right beside a car park. A little fiddling about saw us on our way with my fingers now slightly oily.
And all was well until just before Kilt Rock when one of the stays for the front mudguard lost its bolt and there was a horrible rattling. We found a parking space and I managed to improvise a fixing for it with a spare Garmin mount band. Incredibly useful they are. And again we were on our way but by this time I was beginning to feel that this ride was doomed and with the extra standing about I was definitely cold.
We were only a short distance to our first stop though and the Columba 1400 centre proved a good place for me to warm up a bit. The coffee and cake were lovely and we met a nice couple who have been coming to Skye for even longer than we have. They told us that on their first visit they had walked from Portree to Staffin just to see the Quirang. It's a fair distance on a bike, goodness knows what it was like to walk. I had wondered if my Stoker felt the same as I did about the ride and would want to chuck it in and head back to Portree. But I kept it to myself and determined that I would go on if they voiced no concerns. So onward we went.
The weather hadn't improved much and we were barely started before we had to stop again to switch the lights on. Doh! Then it was onward through Staffin and onto the single track road to take us around the northern end of the island to Uig. The more direct route to Uig is a steep climb past the Quirang which I have done but didn't think either the conditions or the Stoker were up for that. As we headed out of Staffin we got a wave from a couple sitting outside The Small and Cosy Teahouse which I have also heard good things about.
The single track road added to the challenge of the ride, involving making room for Skye's suicidal sheep and the cars and vans that were also wanting to use the road. The weather also began to deteriorate causing me the need to remove my sunglasses. It was odd being able to see better without my glasses than with. It wasn't so much that it was raining more like we were riding in a cloud. It made the roads wet and I was very circumspect both on the tarmac and the numerous cattle grids we encountered. One benefit of the tandem on cattle grids is the bike's length. It means that you spend less time with both wheels on the grid which I felt gave more stability to the experience.
As we came up to Duntulm the weather improved a little. The cloud rose and the road conditions became a little drier. Just in time for the big climb of the day. A long climb made up of several ramps with less steep parts in between. It was here that we survived some of the worst driving I've seen in a while. The climb had a good number of passing places on it and I was happy to use them to let vehicles past as long as we didn't have to stop. Around the middle of the climb we let a car make the most of such an opportunity and we started to move back into our usual position on the road. It was then that a white van decided to push past us as well which nearly ended up with us off the road. It took a lot of effort to keep us upright. I would have more sympathy with them if there hadn't been another passing place about 50 yards up the road. With hindsight maybe we could have been more accommodating but on these steep hills it's much easier if we can keep going. Still, we survived to tell the tale.
The road then rolled along and we saw a couple of golden eagles flying above us which was superb. I suspect this stretch of the road would have beautiful views on a sunny day, all the way out to the outer Hebrides. All we could see was grey sea, grey clouds and damp scenery. We climbed another long, but less steep hill and came out above Uig. From here the road is very steep and has a nasty hairpin in the middle of it. It was here that a voice came from behind me. "Oh, this hairpin!" I had reminded The Stoker before we left that we would have a hairpin to deal with on this ride but despite the number of times we have been on these roads they couldn't remember it. Until we were there that is.
We negotiated the hairpin and a little back road which brought us right down to our next cafe stop. This stop was made at Ella's Cafe, another delightful place for food and drink. I had a hot chocolate and Ecclefechan tart while The Stoker had some tea and a chocolate brownie. Great fuel. While we were relaxing I could see that a gentleman with three small children (one very much asleep on his shoulder) were admiring the tandem propped up on the wall outside. When they came in he was keen to mention how nice it was to see. The two children were much impressed as well; with the bottle holders! Not interested in the fact it was a tandem at all. Very funny.
We had cooled down a little as we sat enjoying our food and drink but we soon warmed up as we left Uig on another long climb. This climb isn't too steep but it does go on a bit. As we climbed the hill a car came up alongside us. It turned out to be French and the occupants gave us great encouragement before using their engine to pull away. The difference between the attitude of this car and the white van couldn't be further apart.
We were now back on two way road and, after the hill, probably the flattest part of the day. I think we also had a little breeze behind us for this section so and when we were back on the flat we were able to pick up a little speed. Apart from the mile or so of road where there was no road surface. A long term project to resurface the A87 has started and this part of the road has the whole surface removed. This left a very lumpy, bumpy under-surface to ride on. The tandem and its riders all managed to come out at the other end without anything falling off. Quite an achievement given the rattling around.
After that the road rolled along with long gentle ups and downs all the way to the brow of the hill above Portree. We then enjoyed the coasting and easy riding which took us into the town and back to the car. A great ride, somehow making the most of a pretty bad weather day.

The ride

Trumpan and back

On the last day of our holiday we got another lovely day and we decided to take the tandem out for one more ride. This time we though we would go from the cottages and not engage in the faff of carrying it on the car again. Thankfully I managed to get it all set up with bags etc without getting too many midge bites.
We didn't want to repeat our central loop ride so we needed to find something else to occupy us. There wasn't another obvious loop of the length we would have like so we went for a there and back route to Trumpan. This meant riding back up towards Dunvegan but as we had done all the little loops off this road the first time we had a new experience just riding the main road. It did mean that we had to ride all of the steep slope about halfway to Dunvegan where we had sneaked off the time before. But we made it and the turn off to the Dunvegan bypass came soon enough.
While we have driven this stretch of road I remembered it as flat. It isn't! It makes steady progress uphill towards the main road. Never steep we had no difficulty with the slope; it just seemed to go on. The sheep on both sides of the road provided the entertainment. I'm sure they play with vehicles and cyclists alike. Just for the fun of it they run from side to side with no discernible pattern or reason. We managed to get to the junction without running any of them down or coming to grief ourselves.
We had a little more uphill to go before a slight downhill to the turn off for Trumpan and the Fairy Bridge. A good place for a stop and a look at the map on the Tourist Information sign. It showed a road going up the peninsula with a little loop at the end of it. This was our road. And what a lovely stretch of tarmac it was too. Apart from one little steep incline near Skye Skyns it was probably the flattest piece of road we met the entire holiday.
Having waited on the loop for a stationary car picking up a passenger we proceeded to the church and car park at the head of the loop. Then I saw a tractor at the top of the rise. Luckily they saw us and let us come up. We got there and suddenly (to my way of thinking) the Stoker stopped pedalling. We came to a stop and had a "discussion". Of course, all things less than perfect on a tandem are the pilot's fault and this was no different. I had said as we came up the east side of the loop that the road went no further than the church and my compatriot had assumed we would be stopping and turning round. I had planned to go round the loop. Hence the confusion. All my fault.
Maybe we should have turned around, and I might recommend that course of action if you find yourself there, because once we headed off we found the sting in the loop. Firstly the road surface deteriorates considerably and drops alarmingly before turning a sharp corner to reveal a nasty little climb on a bit of road that has grass in the middle and gravel on the other bits. Fun. We ground it out in a higher gear than I would like to stop wheel spin and soon enough we were at the top.
The road surface improved and we retraced our steps to the Fairy Bridge enjoying the views over the bay and looking down to the Stein Inn. We didn't visit it on this occasion but I have spent a very pleasant night in there before drinking a little whisky and enjoying the chat. Worth a visit if you are in the area.
Back at the Fairy Bridge we decided we were good to keep going to the cafe at Dunvegan for refreshments. A little effort brought us to the top of the long slope into the village and we enjoyed getting the tandem up to speed. We had to work against the breeze here until we were on the little road up to the cafe. We were also racing against a rather nasty black cloud dropping rain on the MacLeod Tables. We didn't want to get wet! The refreshments were well worth the extra exertion. Not that we mind a bit of speed.
Once we were suitably fed and watered it was time to head back. As we came out of Dunvegan we had wet tarmac under our tyres. So the stop was well-timed and we followed the cloud south as we cycled back to the cottages. It had only just grazed our route and the roads turned dry again and the sun came out in time for our arrival in Struan. We didn't really want to stop so we decided to cycle round the bay and head up to the well used view point for some photos of our own. Once they were done we headed back to a lower car park where we took a few more pictures for our scrap book.

West from the view point

Pilot with the MacLeod Tables behind

The lower car park - our cottages are to the left of my head

The bay without me....

Then we had to head back and start the job of packing up. It's always sad to end our trips on Skye, but this time it was especially hard as we had had such a lovely time travelling the roads. Here's to coming back. It won't be long!

The ride

Tandem riding on Skye - part one

With a little bit of effort, a bent bar and the need to get a replacement along with a lot of encouragement from John and Ruth from J D Tandems I managed to get a BTS tandem carrier fitted to the top of the car. This meant the tandem could come on holiday with us to Skye.
For the first few days of the holiday I wondered why I'd bothered. Grey cloud down at around 200 feet made seeing across the bay from our holiday cottage almost impossible. And with the cloud, rain. I'm not per se a fair weather cyclist but I'm also not a complete nutcase wanting to go out in anything. And for the Stoker this would be the first time out on the roads in Skye, so we wanted to make it a good experience, not one to be avoided at all costs.

Portnalong

Finally a day came along where the weather was fine. And with the promise of a south westerly breeze we decided to ride to Portnalong which is just a view across the loch from the cottage. By road, however, it's about 14 miles. Such is the way with things on the north west coast of Scotland and its attendant islands. There's something else about the roads here. There's no way you could describe them as flat. There's no major alpine cols but I think in the 28 miles we did on this trip you'd be hard pressed to find a continuous mile (or even 1/2 mile) of flat tarmac. But with views like this you can't complain much.

Views of the Cuillin from the road south

I'd ridden the roads to Carbost before. In fact I've used the first hill in this ride as a training session, doing hill repeats on it. So I knew the first 10 miles or so and despite the up and down nature it went ok. We descended into Carbost and came upon the Talisker distillery right down by the loch side. Luckily, thanks to ridewithgps, I was prepared for what followed. A very steep, thankfully short, section of tarmac to put us on the road out to Portnalong. Despite the forecast for fine weather we endured a short shower on this rolling stretch of road before we dropped down to the road end. Here's a picture of me with the tandem. The Stoker is in their preferred position, behind the camera.

The road end at Portnalong

At this point we could see our holiday abode but we knew that the way back was to reverse our outward cycle. With all the up and down it wasn't the most pleasant of thoughts but after a drink and some oat-based bars we were off again.
After enjoying the "whee" down the hill after climbing out of Carbost we faced the long climb up and away from the Cuillin. This section felt long and I was pleased that we got up it in one go; tortoise style. The rest of the roads back were surprisingly ok and we enjoyed another fast run down the big hill we'd ground our way up on the way out.
For the Stoker this was by far and away their hilliest bike ride to date.  Of course, success on this route just means more hills to come!

The Ride

Cake at Dunvegan

On Skye you can't have a rest day if the weather is nice because you know it's never going to last that long. And in this case we had a forecast promising rain and wind for the next day so it was back on with the lycra and out with the bike. This time we remembered the pump (a good job we hadn't needed it the day before) and headed out.
After the hills of the day before a slightly less hilly route was desired. Unfortunately from the cottage you can only really go up so we picked the least horrible option and headed north to Dunvegan.
To make things more interesting we decided to cycle the little loops at Ullinish, Harlolsh and Orbost before sneaking up to the cafe at Dunvegan Castle. These back roads were great with lovely views and even better driving from the small number of cars we met. Most of the drivers seemed delighted to see a tandem. It's a reaction we are getting used to. And a far better reaction than the one I'm used to.
The main views on this run up the coast is of these hills. I'd like to point out that this picture (and the one of the Cuillin) was taken on another adventure but it shows the scenery you can have on Skye.

MacLeod Tables

Coffee and cake was well timed as we sat in the cafe watching a short sharp shower fall on the cars in the car park. Luckily we had parked the tandem under the shelter of some trees. As part of my promotion of Skye I can recommend the carrot cake, scones, hot chocolate and tea at the cafe. We also enjoy the garden there.
The straight ride back should have been uneventful but proved not to be. Coming through Dunvegan we ended up behind a car whose driver decided to stop and be nice to the traffic on the other side of the road and let them pass the parked car. This meant we needed to come to an unexpected and fairly abrupt stop. When we went to start up again there was a horrible grinding noise and then the Stoker informed me that the chain had come off.
The reason for this was that I'd forgotten that we were in a very high gear when we came to a stop. And we didn't star smoothly enough. Chain back on and onto the middle chainring we started off again. The Stoker had thought the big chainring was a bit "wobbly" but I hadn't seen it. However, when we went to change onto it again we had another horrible noise and the chain came off again. Looking at it again I could see a horrible bend in the big chainring. At least it wasn't the small one so we could ride on.
The one advantage of the mechanical disaster was that we needed to coast down all but the shortest and least steep inclines. The Stoker was happy with this. To be honest my legs weren't that unhappy either. And in this way the simple run for home went very smoothly. The views of the Cuillin were great again.

The Ride

Postscript

A little bit of faith (in Sheldon Brown and the internet), a large wrench and a tiny bit of persuasion brought the chainring straight enough to ride again so we will be able to build some speed again on some of the hills round here when we go out again.

New wheels

All of a sudden I'm learning to ride a bike again. You wouldn't think I would need to, not after the number of miles I have under my belt. I do, however, have an excuse. The thing is I have a new bike and it's a tandem!

Why?

I had been at the Significant Other to get a road bike so that they could come riding with me. They are wiser than that and, with the dual thoughts of either being left behind or patronised (I claimed it would be encouraged) by me, they suggested a tandem."It will be fun", "It's something we can do together" are the sort of things I heard in support of this plan.
To be fair, I wasn't against the idea. And it let me shop!

Buying

After looking around on the internet and weighing up our options we decided that it would be great if we could try it before we committed ourselves. And that's where JD Tandems came in. With the promise of a day or two's hire of a tandem and instruction on how to ride one they seemed an ideal place to visit. The only problem? They're in Yorkshire. So we planned a few days away to visit them and arranged the bike hire.

As soon as we arrived in their shop in Gargrave we were made very welcome. The proprietors Ruth and John seemed keener than I was to get us on a bike and off. Having read all sorts of stuff about the problems starting to ride a tandem I was very nervous about setting out. Our hire bike was ready and after a couple of adjustments from John for saddle height and bar reach we were set for our lesson in the car park outside the shop.

The technique is described elsewhere but here's my distilled version. The pilot (person at front) gets astride the bike, puts the brakes on and stabilises the bike by putting their feet as wide as they can go. The stoker (the person on the back) then gets on the bike and gets both feet on their pedals. This achieved they then set the pedals and the pilot narrows their stance so that they can put their foot on a pedal. Then a quick, "lets go", a release of the brakes and the bike sails off. Ruth and John make it look very easy and the bike covered the ground around the car park with effortless ease. Stopping looks equally easy and the bike came to a halt with Ruth still sitting on the rear seat both feet on the pedals with John looking really relaxed on the front.

Then it's time for my partner in crime to take Ruth's place and have John show me the starting technique again while getting them used to the idea. John does it easily again. I ask to have a go on the back to see what it's like. It's very odd and when we came to a stop I had to put a foot down, unbalancing the bike. Naughty stoker. John chuckled and said it's fine.

Then it was my turn to try piloting. I managed to get astride the bike with brakes on; that bit is relatively ok although stepping over the bike instead of swinging the leg over the saddle is different. My Significant Other got on. It's a funny feeling having a bike wobble around behind you as someone else gets on. They set the pedals. I narrow my stance. Go! No. I found it difficult to let go of the brakes. More chuckling and sympathy from John. We tried again and this time we wobbled our way around the car park. Stopping brings about it's own problem as I found that I tend to lean a bike when I bring it to a stop. Not a good thing for the stoker. Very unnerving. We tried again and were a little better. "Off you go then" said Ruth and I thought "Really? Are we ready?".

We got a few things together and put them in the provided rack bag, a thoughtful addition to the day's bike hire. John gave us directions to Malham and showed me on the map, also provided. They left us in the car park and we tried to set off. I still couldn't let go of the brake levers in time. We tried again and managed to get going this time. We went round the car park one more time; it felt safe and then we made our way to the road. We managed to stop at the junction without falling off but realised that to start again we were going to have to turn right. Visibility wasn't great and neither was our starting so we decided to walk the bike across the road, then over the humpback bridge to a flatter more inviting piece of road.

We got going again and this time we made a pretty decent job of it. We started cycling down the road. I began to get used to the gears and brakes. The thing was that the bars were straight like a mountain bike so nothing like my road bike and unlike my town bike too as that has twist shift gears. That and a longer, heavier bike made things interesting. We passed a car whose occupants waved at us. We suspect they see a lot of wobbling tandems there and that made us laugh.

We headed on up the road and by and large we made slow but steady progress. We stopped and started again which wasn't easy on the ever narrowing Yorkshire back roads. At least there wasn't too much traffic, but the lines of sight weren't as good as I'm used to and, of course, I had no idea of the roads at all. Eventually we arrived above Malham and could see the famous Malham Cove; a mecca for tourists and climbers alike. It looked like quite a steep drop into the village but we went down the hill and arrived at the visitors centre. I elected to park here and we made it into the car park and stopped relatively well. We locked the bike up (the lock again provided) and strolled along in search of a cup of coffee for the pilot and tea for the stoker. John had recommended somewhere but we couldn't find it. There are plenty of options though and we stumbled into one.

Over our beverages we discussed the 7 miles or so we had just done. A painfully short distance for me but quite a long way for my Significant Other. It had been ok but the rear cyclist did admit to shutting their eyes on one fast downhill bit. Pilot error I thought our experienced hosts would suggest. And the gap in our cycling history was brought to the fore. Ruth had asked what our usual mileages were. "Al thinks nothing of 100 miles in a day." was the reply from my better half, "I'm more like 4". On the whole though we were happy and agreed that if nothing went wrong on the way back we were likely to decide to purchase a tandem.

We got back to the bike and I was glad to see that it was still there. We were passed by two proper roadies looking like they were off to do some serious riding. I was slightly envious. We wheeled the bike back to the road and looked up the slope we have to get up. I was apprehensive. I didn't know what our combined climbing power would be like and I thought the slope looked steep. I was glad to have a bike that was geared for climbing and for partners of unequal experience.

The start was smooth for us and we got going. I managed to change gear to a sensible one and we spun slowly up the hill who's brow came surprisingly quickly. Then with almost apparent ease we cycled back to Gargrave. My stoker was surprised how quickly we got back. I pointed out that it had been mostly downhill as a consequence of mostly going uphill on the way there. I was surprised at how quickly I became somewhat used to the bike. It was still a strange animal but workable by now and not a horror story.

We got back to the shop. Ruth and John wondered if we were going to do some more; perhaps wondering if we liked the experience. But 14 miles on a strange bike was a long way for my rear gunner and I was happy to leave it for the day. I did take out a tandem on my own to try one with drop handlebars but although I preferred being in a more natural position and with controls I'm more used to I can see why John had his doubts for it as a first tandem. The flat bars give a more positive braking position and that, at the moment, is important.

As we discussed the options with John and Ruth in the shop I watched John work in the spotless workshop area. I gazed longingly at the tools he has wishing I had the skill to use them as well as having them in my less than spotless garage. We made arrangements to sleep on it to make sure the stoker's back had withstood the challenge and left for the hotel.

We hadn't changed our minds overnight and the next morning we popped back to the shop. "Could we pop out for a short run just to be sure?" we asked. It was no problem. We didn't go far, we just wanted to see everything was still as good as it had been the day before. We needn't have worried. We didn't go far and we were soon back in the shop agreeing to the purchase. As we left another couple arrived to pick up a Hase Pino. I'd seen it the day before and they had a test version too. Half bike, half recumbent it looks superb but I fought the urge to try it. I might regret that.

All we had to do now was to wait.

Arrival and riding

We didn't have to wait long; about 10 days. And then a very long box was delivered. Arriving this way it takes a little setting up as it travels with the handlebars turned, the stokers bars turned and the saddles fitted as low as they will go. Ever the efficient sales team though we had the measurements from the test bike we'd ridden as a basic starting point.

Our first ride felt like we were back to square one and I felt we wobbled around our local roads. I was reassured from the back seat that we were doing fine. And that's what the tandem is about I guess: teamwork and communication.

Since then we've been out and about quite a bit and enjoying the new bike. We are still learning, improving and looking forward to more. And the Significant Other will now be called the Stoker!

On our first "proper" ride. Photo by the stoker!

Thanks to Ruth and John for being patient and understanding. Buying a tandem isn't an easy thing to do and they helped us get the most out of it on that first day. Without that help we may well not have bothered. I know they are looking to sell bikes but there was still a care and a love of tandem riding that transcended the sales process. We are looking forward to taking the tandem down to Yorkshire for the start of the Tour de France next year. Hopefully we will meet up with them and some other like minded couples. We'd better get practising.

A different plane

This is a write-up of a day from early June when I was on holiday on Skye; a favourite place.

It may come as a surprise to some people but cycling is not my only sporting passion. I love golf and before that I used to be a little obsessed with hillwalking and climbing. Somewhere in between the last two lurks scrambling. This is essentially very easy rock climbing where normally you don't bother roping up. So it tends to be quicker but still has a great air of excitement about it. For me it allows access to some great places that walkers can't really reach and satisfies the rock climbing itch that still exists.

In Britain there's one range of hills that are tailor made for scrambling on; the Black Cuillin on Skye. They are vary different from anything else in Britain the rock is fantastic for climbing on. The one downside is that the hills are still evolving, often rather fast which leads to some loose rock. you just have to be careful.

There was a time when the Significant Other was roped (no pun intended) into scrambling on these hills and I did the route finding and the worrying. For one reason and another a few years ago I ended up employing one of the mountain guides on Skye to do some of the more "pointy bits", which in truth the SO wasn't really interested in. Without going over old ground Paddy McGuire ignited some more passion in me for this type of activity and in the last few years I've been re-employing him for more fun in the hills.

So here we were meeting at the Sligachan Hotel on a Sunday morning in June looking at a beautiful blue sky with a day's climbing in front of us. As it my want I asked if we might attempt a thing called Amphitheatre Arete, one of the lesser requested routes from Paddy's clients. Paddy agreed and after a little drive around the corner we were soon walking up towards the cliffs of Sron na Ciche.

Walking in

I was glad the walk in was short as it was already hot and even more glad to have picked this route as we should be in the shade for most of the climbing. I hadn't realised the one downside of this at this point but more of that later. We arrived at the start of the route quickly enough and I was surprised to see a number of other climbers on routes right beside ours and even some in the little gully we were going start up. We put harnesses and helmets on and Paddy got the rope out. It's always good to have some insurance and I was to find it very useful on this route. This is where the line between scrambling and rock climbing becomes blurred. Sections of this day were well within my comfort zone and we moved un-roped but others were places where I definitely liked the security of a rope and the experienced guide.

I was to find the security of the rope useful almost immediately. It's a funny thing, scrambling. There were moments in the day where the objective danger of a fall was far greater than from the first few feet of the gully we were in but about 10 feet of the ground I already felt nervous. I even began to wonder why I'd picked this route. Maybe Paddy did too as he passed the rope down. One reassuring point came from the party of 3 in front who also admitted to having to use the rope here when they hadn't planned on it.

With the rope attached the moves came more easily and soon we were moving upwards again without its assistance. After another little problem where I couldn't follow Paddy's route that we circumvented by something I preferred the look of but that hadn't looked obvious at first we arrived at the base of the Amphitheatre that the route is named after. And this is exactly was I was meaning earlier when I mentioned getting to less easily reached places. This Amphitheatre has been formed by two huge areas of steepening slabs in the middle of this huge rock face (around 1km in length and up to 300m high). And standing underneath it was amazing. To think I was going to climb up some of it and then across it before reaching the far edge (the arete) to climb to the top was even more amazing.

The first problem was that the access to the slabs we wanted to climb on was up a shallow groove that was seeping despite the dry weather Skye was experiencing. Not a route for a wet day I guess. We decided that it was dry enough but that I would use the rope's security again. So Paddy set off leaving me to watch the rope and to let him know when it ran out and I would need to climb. As the person going second, and the less experienced (by a long way), this is a nervous time. Here you are standing in the middle of a very large rock face without the ability to get off it without the person who is now some considerable distance from you. Even if that distance is only 50m! Paddy arranged a belay (a contrivance which allows him to secure the rope, and me, to the rock) and then I climbed up the groove. It was wet and it didn't seem easy though I really enjoyed the climbing. Regardless of how easy it would be to a proper rock climber I thought Paddy's ability to climb this without the protection I had was very impressive indeed.

A little more of wet slab above the groove deposited us on the main slabs. What a situation! Then we started across on our way to the edge. Easy at first the ledge we were following got narrower and because the hill side was getting lower below us I began to feel more exposed. I was very pleased with myself when I managed to make some dainty little moves across a small section that seemed to hang above the corrie floor. All without a rope. Here we started to work our way up a little too and then we arrived at the arete. Almost immediately I found myself in a position where I felt more nervous than I wanted to. Paddy suggested the rope and I was grateful to accept. Of course the payment for the upcoming security was the requirement to wait for Paddy to climb ahead and find his belay. The problem this time was that I hadn't picked the best spot for a rest. I was standing on two small footholds, very secure but it was not easy for me to move around. Try standing on two half bricks for any length of time to see what I mean. And, of course, I couldn't afford to fall off because I was trying to get more comfortable. I did my best to find a nice position and took some photos as I waited for the call to climb.

The view from my stance

After what seemed an age (probably 10 minutes) I got my opportunity. The climbing was lovely but I was really, really glad of the rope. Even with it you get a little nervous because you don't want to fall, or even slip. And I want to climb nicely and in control to make my guide's day as easy as possible. I arrived at the belay and Paddy suggested another section where he would climb first. I wasn't unhappy with this. I had a nicer stance this time and enjoyed both the waiting and the subsequent climbing. It was also here that I realised the downside of climbing on a shady cliff. Every time I looked up (a requirement in climbing) I ended up looking straight into the sun. Oh, the fun.

The path looks a long way down

After that we had a longer section where we could un-rope and we progressed together. One of the great things about these days out is the conversation. Wide ranging and almost constant the climbing flies by as you work your way ever upwards. It was a surprise to me when Paddy announced we had reached the crux of the route. Surprised because I knew from the route description that the crux was pretty much right at the top. And I wasn't ready for this adventure to be over yet.

Looking down the arete from below the crux

The crux consists of a large triangular block sitting right on top of the ridge. At the grade I climb at it isn't possible straight on but, luckily, there's a way around. It's an interesting way around though. You need to go round the right hand edge of the block where you suddenly find yourself above the long gully that defines the right hand side of the ridge. I was glad I was on the rope for this bit. You shuffle along a little until a very obvious foothold comes into view. The only problem is that it's a bit of a step up to get on to it and it takes a little bit of working out how to get all your limbs in the right place to achieve the step up. I also wondered what would happen if I had missed and come off. Not a pretty thought. A quick painful pendulum to the opposite wall of the gully was my guess. However, a little shimmy and there I was above the crux with a little more climbing to reach Paddy and relative safety.

That left a little more scrambling (more interesting than I thought it would be) to get to the flat top of Sron na Ciche and lunch. We picked a wee knoll on the south west side of the wide ridge that gave us a comfortable seat and great views out to Rum and beyond. I'm not sure I've seen better days in the Cuillin. Our day wasn't quite over as we needed to walk back down which always takes longer than you think it will. On this occasion though it was great just to soak of the views. I kept looking back at the cliff we'd climbed thinking "Really? I went up that!". That's an oft thought thought of mine on Skye.

Looking back

Now I just can't wait to get back.

An attempt at the 200

Any of you reading this who have read the rest of this blog will know that it is my goal this year to ride 200 miles in one day. And not any old 200 miles, but a long slog over two of Scotland's climbs with a good bit of riding before and after. After some deliberation I have now made an attempt. Here's what happened.

Just a few days after the year's longest day allowed enough daylight for me to consider doing the ride. And with that in mind I got up just before 4a.m. and was organised enough to leave the house just after 5. The bike computer registered my start at 5:11. Early, even for me.

A slight westerly wind slowed my progress to Abernethy and then seemed to hurt me on the way to Perth. Localised wind conditions never cease to amaze and frustrate me. I was expecting a little help up on this section. Getting away so early meant Perth was very quiet. Even so I witnessed a fantastic piece of driving when a driver changed their mind and went straight on from a right only lane, right across my path. No indication, no nothing. I was enjoying myself too much to care overly and I shared an opinion with another cyclist before getting on my way.

The section to Blairgowrie was delightful. I think the wind gave a little help here and I loved it. One downside was being passed by a female cyclist on the way back to main road from Stromontfield. I had just eased over to allow a van to pass on this barely-wide-enough road and on my way back to my usual riding position I looked back to find her coming past. I wasn't racing and I wasn't letting my inner chimp have a say. But interestingly enough a little ramp in the road allowed my spinning to catch up her out-of-the-saddle effort. Then at the junction she was a little all over the place getting her phone out to look at the map. We had a quick discussion about our respective routes and then we were off to enjoy our outings. She was one of a very few cyclists I saw on what was a lovely day.

I arrived in Blairgowrie pretty much on schedule and a little after the small supermarket I had started from the last time I was there opened. A quick stop for more water, sorting out the drinks and the food in my pockets and then I was off for a trip up Glenshee. Almost immediately there is a fairly steep climb. I didn't feel good on this and started to feel the effects of the slight cold that had begum to trouble me on the previous Thursday evening. This had left me with a tickle in the back of my throat and and my nose was blocking up a little. I knew then that I had some decisions to make.

Through Bridge of Cally (thanks for the traffic lights that only change for cars) and onward up the glen I started to plan my exit strategy. Should I try the climb up to the ski centre and then come back? Should I just turn round now? Could I ride to Spittal of Glenshee and turn there? Eventually I settled on the idea of taking the road from Glenshee to Kirriemuir and using that to explore some of the 200 mile route that I hadn't done; the bit from Edzell to Alyth.

Braemar wasn't for me, not on this trip

It was quite hard to make this choice but I felt that I really didn't have the legs to go over to Braemar and then come back over Cairn O'Mount. I might have got up the first one, but I couldn't guarantee refreshment at the cafe at ski centre and didn't want to get stuck out there or suffer due to lack of fuel. So, a turn off it was and an excuse to ride some new roads. There's something I really enjoy doing.

The ride down to Kirriemuir was great. A short little climb out of the glen and then the road dropped into, and down, Glen Isla. There were chances to shorten the route further and go straight to Alyth and I did take one before giving myself a good talking to and turning 50 yards down the road to rejoin my intended route. While mostly downhill there are also a few short, sharp climbs in this glen. Enough to keep the legs occupied. I must go and ride this road the other way round. A 17 mile road mostly uphill, but nowhere at a stupid gradient, should be good training.

The lovely road down Glen Isla

With about 2 miles to go to Kirriemuir I came across the junction I wanted for the road back to Alyth. Sadly this also meant a turn back into the westerly wind. Unfortunately this had freshened, or so it felt, and the road also dragged uphill. Not steeply, and it would have helped if I'd changed down to the small chainring, but it was enough to sap my energy and mental strength. The next challenge was a road closure and a diversion. Following my nose got me onto very small back road that took me back to the main road with a little way to go to Alyth. I have to say that I struggled here; the call of refueling with water and a sit down in Alyth was a siren in my head.

With much more time than expected I decided to take a longer stop than I would normally. A comfortable wall and convenient bike stand made for a very pleasant stop. Less so the second hand cigarette smoke from a fellow wall-sitter. Very annoying. They sat next to me; do I look like a man who wants someone else's smoke? Slightly grumpy but refreshed I set off for home.

Last time I rode this part of the route I suffered into a south easterly wind so it was with pleasure that I rode home this time with a westerly. Mostly across me it didn't really hurt and on some sections, like Riverside in Dundee and the cycle path outside St. Andrews, it was a positive boon. The climb from Newtyle was a lot easier this time round and while I didn't race up it, I didn't suffer either physically or mentally this time.

Tay Rail Bridge - home beckons

Just before home I passed the 200 km mark. Not exactly what I wanted but on a day which wasn't perfect, and on which I wasn't in perfect shape, I can live with it. What I didn't want to live with was the crowd for the circus taking place on the playing fields. It slowed me down!

I had one more surprise. I arrived home and on going into the kitchen found a bottle and a recovery drink sachet all ready for me beside the sink. What a lovely Significant Other I have!

It went down a treat

Aftermath

After I'd made my decision to cut the ride short I spent some time thinking about the attempt and what it meant for getting the 200 done. I came to these conclusions:

• it's not going to happen in 2013. Fundamentally I'm not fit enough, and I haven't done enough long rides,
• if I'm going to aim for 2014 then as well as the hill climbing training I also need to ride a few more 120-140, even 150 mile rides,
• I still need to work on my hydration and nutrition; my stomach is never entirely happy after a few hours,
• I need to make my saddlebag lighter, or me,
• I need to find a way of cooling my head down. My current helmet is too warm!

I'm sure there are other things I will take from this ride as the days go by but for now these will do.

My cold got worse once I was back home so perhaps my assessment of my own condition was spot on and despite my normal "shut up legs" attitude (thanks Jens) the decision to turn around was the correct one. When you are an amateur it is very important to enjoy the cycling and live for another day.

Ride

Exploring further afield

Since the Sportive it's been a hectic time. Work's been busy, I've been trying to get a little golf in, I had a long weekend on Skye (and one day's fantastic scrambling on the Cuillin) and, of course, there's been some cycling thrown in.
Along with the normal 20-mile routes early in the morning I've done a few longer ones as well. Including two memorable ones I'd like to share. These two routes form a large part of my 200 mile challenge and were a good excuse to explore some new roads. And it's this new roads exploration that keeps me interested. New roads, new challenges, new scenery etc are all good.

Blairgowrie Loop

This ride was done on a lovely Thursday afternoon. Not too hot, not too cold. Perfect. All apart from one thing. The wind direction. More on that later. Apologies for the lack of photos from this ride. There are two reasons for this. The first is simple; I didn't really see anything I wanted to photograph and the light was very flat. The 2nd reason is more difficult. I'd like my blog to be bright and vibrant with lovely photos but that all gets in the way of actually riding. Tricky!
Back to the ride. The wind propelled my through Fife and towards Bridge of Earn. These roads I have travelled before so it wasn't until I started to cycle up the road toward Perth that I struck new tarmac. The road from Bridge of Earn to Perth becomes dual carriageway for a time and I found the adjacent cycle path a safer option here. As soon as the road went back to two-way I was back on the road and soon in Perth.
Perth has it's own difficulties to navigate, bridges, cycle lanes and required changes of lane. But with quiet traffic and an assertive attitude I was clear of the town quickly enough.
I was riding on the main road from Perth to Blairgowrie at the point but turned off to try a quieter road which would also save me some climbing. It was great although I did have some interesting sounds as larger stones from the road surface hit my frame. Luckily none hit me! Quiet roads also tend to provide good places for "comfort" breaks and this was no exception.
I rejoined the main road later and then had to deal with more traffic. One memorable incident was being overtaken on a dead straight road with two vehicles coming in the opposite direction. They had to slow and take avoiding action. I shrugged and waved my apologies and was pleased to get similar (and friendly) responses back from the drivers.
Blairgowrie came and went without incident and I climbed north east on a back road towards Alyth. Once again I was avoiding the traffic and taking the opportunity for a new climb. The breeze that occasionally nagged at me on this section was a sign of things to come. The views south across the valley were superb and well worth the extra effort.
I got to Alyth (a lovely run down the hill brought me in) and stopped at the local shop to refill my water bottles. I also took the opportunity to eat one of the sandwiches I had brought. A saddle bag is a wonderful thing for that.
I set off again. And then the trouble started. That nagging breeze was now in my face and I knew deep down that I had around 35 miles to ride before I saw home. All pretty much in the same direction. Not a pleasant thought. Meigle brought traffic road works. And then the road started to climb as it approached Newtyle. And it kept rising. With the wind in my face! This was the low point of the ride. And when I turned off once again to find a quieter road my legs started to complain too. This back road was a mistake as it added extra climbing and extra twisty riding to the route. Not a good idea, and I way well use the main road on my 200 mile road. Again, the views made up for and I arrived in Birkhill.
From here the road into Dundee was delightfully downhill. And then I managed to find my way through the Technology Park and onto the cycle path beside Riverside in Dundee. The most fun of this part of the ride has to be taking the lift onto the Tay Bridge. Going south on the bridge is uphill which was slow.
So were the roads through Tayport, Leuchars and Guardbridge. And then one final challenge, to climb the hill up to Strathkinness. I really do hate the cycle path that much. The hill was a challenge with a good amount of my granny gear. Then at least the road went downhill and took me, albeit slowly, home.
I was pleased with the time taken to do the route (including the stops) and pleased that I survived the long miles into the wind. But it was a wake up call. As the next ride would be!

Ride

Deeside

10 days later I was off exploring again. I had ridden in between but just on well known local roads, racking up the miles for Strava's May Massive challenge. As I did this I became more convinced that I should go and have a look at the northern loop of my proposed 200 mile ride. I'm a lucky cyclist in that I have great support from my Significant Other and they were quite prepared, insistent even, that they would provide car support for such a venture.
And that's how I ended up riding out of Blairgowrie on a Sunday morning. I'd tooled up outside a small convenience store in the back streets which I have no doubt provided the few locals up early enough a sight for sore eyes. Again I knew this ride was going to be tough but there was no way I was prepared for how tough.
The planned route was from Blairgowrie, through Glenshee (over a high pass) to Braemar, through Deeside to Aboyne and then south to Edzell over another big hill called Cairn o'Mount. 90 miles with the option of another 30 to Alyth to scout out the whole northern loop. Having two big hills in the route can fool a rider into thinking that the route will consist of the following sections flat, up, down, flat, up, down. I'm not that stupid and I had actually looked at the profile in more detail.
Sadly this meant I knew about the steep climb I reached almost immediately after leaving Blaigowrie. And the one out of Bridge of Cally. Knowing about them doesn't make them easier. What I had missed was just how steep some of the little ramps through Glenshee are. I suppose I should have worked it out as I knew I would climb a fair way to get to the bottom of the morning's main objective. The climb up to the ski centre from the floor of Glenshee.
It really starts at the Spittal of Glenshee where the hills start to crowd the road but it's gentle enough here. It rolls its way to below the pass. I always climbed more than I lost but there's a certain resentment when you climb 30 feet and then lose 15. And I could see the headwall, and the road, getting ever closer without the large gain in height I would have liked. The steep bit also started ok. Put the bike in a sensible gear and don't worry about the speed. I reckon I was about a third of the way up it when I ran out of gears. Don't worry I thought just slow the cadence down and which yourself up. Then the heart rate started to rise a little alarmingly. I'm always worried when it gets above 170 and more so if I can't see the top of the rise. I kept going. The road gets steeper, I got slower and my heart rate got higher. I had to remove my steamed-up glasses so that I could see. And then finally, to my shame, I had to stop. I walked the final 0.2 of a mile and just before the top I swung my leg over again and got cycling again. My heart rate had settled nicely on the walk. A sign of some fitness I guess.
I waved to the SO parked in the car park about 1/4 of a mile further on and indicated I was ok and they could meet me in Braemar. The descent was fantastic. A main road gave me all the reward I felt I was due but it was tinged with some regret that I'd had to get off. I also started to worry about the second big climb of the day. Still, I had about 45 miles to go before I needed to worry about that. There's a lovely back road into Braemar on the other side of the river from the main road and, although it's a little rougher and it goes through a golf course, it's well worth taking. I met up with the supply wagon, refuelled and was on my way.
I've holidayed in Deeside before but never ridden the roads so it was great. And the riding continued to be easy. Again the a good look at the profile indicates why. From Braemar to Aboyne is 28 miles and drops 749 feet. So it is more down than up. And despite there being a few ramps on the quiet south Deeside road it was an absolute delight to ride. This smaller road is reached by taking the turn for Balmoral and then keeping on going. Best, in my opinion.

South Deeside road

A planned meet-up in Aboyne was very welcome as was some more substantial food. The SO had scouted the town for me and informed me I was ok for provisions when it comes to the 200 miles. At this point I was beginning to have my doubts about that challenge but that's what these exploration days are all about. I set off again.
The road to the bottom of Cairn o'Mount is not exactly flat and I began to suffer on the steeper sections again. I began to rail against any downhill sections of which there were still quiet a few. And I knew that on the route I had picked there was still one pretty steep section to be negotiated before the main event. I got up this small steep section and it was there that I had an epiphany. I was too hot. A comfort stop at the top of the climb gave me the chance to remove the gilet. I stuffed it in the saddlebag. Handy things saddlebags, but heavy. And heavy doesn't help on the climbs.
Of course, what goes up must come down and the penalty for the climb I'd just done was a drop to the road junction for Cairn o'Mount. I really did dislike that. 8 miles said the sign post. 8 miles and an elevation difference of around 1150 feet. Sadly with the up and down this changes to 1500 feet of climbing. Not a pretty statistic for me.
What can I say? I rode most of it. It's not that horrendous I'm sure but it has some very steep bits in it and towards the top there's not much relief. There are ramps of 12 and 14% and longer bits of 5-10%. All very nasty indeed. Of the 8 miles I reckon I walked about 1/2 a mile. I also stopped a lot near the top. The wind was in my face, the bike was heavy, I was heavy. I can't say I enjoyed it much. Despite the scenery being very nice indeed. I was being given a lesson in over-reaching myself.

Looking at what I'd struggled up on Cairn o'Mount

Near the top I could make out two passes and, delighted that I was nearly as high as both of them, I felt I had it in the bag. Except the road doesn't take either of the passes, it goes over the the "mount" between them. The clue is in the name.

One of the fake passes

I arrived at the Cairn. I stopped beside my car and straddled the bike too tired to get off. A few comforting words from my SO but I was pretty much beyond comforting at this point. A shame for them, because I don't expect I was much fun. Not at this high point anyway.
I had still earned my descent though and I loved the high speed, no pedalling action for the 2 miles it takes to drop 1000 feet. I don't get how anyone could cycle up that way, but they do. And for fun! I did stop at the slightly lower car par and take a couple of photos. What a view.

Just below the summit of Cairn o'Mount - looking south

Then it was back to proper cycling. Again it was still mostly downhill but it was into the breeze which had stiffened during the day and was now properly annoying me. I arrived in Edzell a bit battered and tired. There was no way I was adding on the optional 30 miles to Alyth. That would just have been a pedal stroke too far.

Which way to Alyth? No chance....

The bike went on the top of the car and I grumped about the fact that I wouldn't even be attempting my long ride and we set off home.

Ride

Aftermath

A wee while has gone by now since I did the rides. I've had time to reflect. I also had time to see my personal trainer. He pointed out that it was still a pretty good effort and that I probably have all the miles in the legs that I need but I need some more high intensity hill climbing to fall back on. So I'm on a diet of hill repeats now. Energy sapping, leg churning, heart exploding hill repeats. Lovely. But if it makes the 200 possible I'll do it. I've also had a lot of encouragement from friends who are mostly of the opinion that if I walk 3/4 of a mile in 200 so be it. I'm still propelling the bike. I'm not sure I agree with that but we'll see.
On reflection I also think I overheated on the Glenshee climb and, as much as I would like to say I recovered from that over the next 40-odd miles, I don't think I ever really got back my composure after that. Lesson learnt. Strip down before the climb.
You've probably gathered this already but, yes, I will at least be attempting the 200 this year. Life is about challenges and if you fail trying then at least you've tried. Hmm, try getting your inner chimp to be happy with that.

Thanks for reading this long, long post. It's done now....