Commuting in Style - Bikepacking!

Setting off excitement!

It’s a glorious Wednesday afternoon. I send a photo of my laden bike to my boss,“I’m off!” I type. I shut down my laptop, head out the door and leap on my bike.

Work have organised a corporate event down in Peebles. Two weeks ago, the organisers sent instructions on how to get there, by car and by coach, but provided no info on arriving by bike. I made a fuss. They arranged secure bike parking, changing rooms and showers (towels provided!). Without really meaning too, I’ve committed to cycling.

I look at route options, the road routes aren’t that nice, all busy roads and no street lighting. I begin researching off-road routes. Part of the ‘capital trail’ runs from my front door down to Peebles. An idea starts to emerge. I decide to bikepack my way there, this will be the most epic commute.

What a lovely afternoon for a ride!

I set off into Pentland hills, the first part of the route is entirely uphill, it’s mostly on track though, so it should be quite quick riding. To get to Peebles before dark I need to make about 5 mph. I stop for my first snack at the top of Bavelaw, and head up across the moor.  This next section is part of the now infamous Carlops Loop. I pause for thought, I’m carrying a spare tube, puncture repair kit and strong tyre levers, if all else fails I’m also carrying a tent and 4 season bag and 8 chocolate bars. I consider myself appropriately prepared and carry on.

Om-nom, only 7 chocolates left now

Five miles into the route my watch buzzes, 1 hour 7 seconds. I’m almost exactly on schedule.

It wasn't actully as warm as it looks in the picture!

It’s quite exposed on the hillside and the wind has picked up. A lot. I’m blown sideways across the path, more than once. I start to wonder if this was really such a great idea. I struggle on, pushing my bike where it’s too windy to ride. My pace slows, but the sun is still shining.

Views back down the hill, picture doesn't really show the wind

At the top of the pass I hit a problem, a style. I’ve been struggling to lift up my bike without kit, fully laden this is going to be difficult. I stand on the style and hoik up the bike, and flop it over the fence and drop it down. My back hurts, but I’ve succeeded, no going back now!

The style of problem

At the top of Cap Law, I’m nearly blown off my bike again. I gingerly start the decent to Nine Mile burn, the further down I go the more protected I am from the wind. I let the speed pick up feeling more confident.  I pass two kids with bikes on their way up. We exchange a grin and a woop, it’s a good day to be outside.

Stream crossings: this one had the luxury of a bridge

 Halfway down the hill there’s another style, fortunately there are some kind walkers who offer to assist. I apologies profusely for the mud, they don’t seem to mind. I ride on through tracks and backroads to West Linton. I fill up my water bottle at J&R Newsagents (thanks!), and have another chocolate stop. I wonder if Nestle would sponsor me?

Drovers path way-markers, happily no actual droving on the path

The next section follows the cross-borders Drovers route. I hope not to meet any actual drovers, I really don’t like cows. Fortunatley there’s nothing in the hills but sheep today.  In fact there’s not a soul in sight, I feel like I’m in the middle of nowhere (actually I’m less than 20 miles from the centre of Edinburgh).

Not a soul in sight

I work my way across the hills towards Peebles, there’s some lovely flowy pieces of single track. There’s a couple of bogs too, my shoes get soaked, I send a silent thanks to the inventors of sealskinz, my feet are still dry.

The single track sections were ace!

The wind picks up again on the more exposed section. I round the side of Hamilton hill and can see Peebles and the Tweed Valley below. I decide to camp on the hill and save the descent into Peebles for the morning. It’s also 6 pm and I’ve got about 30 minutes before it gets dark. The wind nearly blows my tent away as I’m pitching, I consider moving on to search for a more sheltered spot, but decide against it. This will be a good test for the tent, and it’s not forecast to rain anyways.

Tent pitched and hopefully not blowing away!

I set up my stove to boil water for dinner. Unfortunately, I don’t position the pot very well and the it spills on the ground. I’d been worried about carrying enough water and so had erred on the side of caution. There’s too much farming in these hills for me to be happy taking water from streams. I have about 1 litre of water to spare, enough for dinner and a cup of tea.

I settle down to sleep, the wind blowing my tent about keeps me awake, but I remain firmly rooted to the ground. The next morning I get up in the dark and pack my stuff. Just as the sun is rising I set off down the hill into Peebles. The descent it brilliant, I even get a strava top 10 (which actually says more about the number of women who have ridden the route). I roll in to Peebles Hydro Hotel covered in mud.

Almost there! (the camera didn't capture the mud as well as I'd hoped)

True to their word there is a secure lock up for my bike and kit, as well as hot showers. I transform from dirtbag biker to corporate badass*. Happily work events always start with coffee and bacon rolls, I enthusiastically tuck in to second breakfast.

*this is what happened in my head anyways, (the reality might have been a transformation from bedraggled to rumpled).

The full loop, about 75 km

Among the more serious sessions there are always some fun challenges. Today there is a cycling challenge. How fast can you ride 4 laps of a virtual velodrome on a static bike. I didn’t mean to get involved, I know I have another 35 km to cycle home, but I’m too competitive not to. No half measures, I set the women's record for the day.

 

Top of Maidens' Cleugh, nearly home

I’ve a simpler route planned for the way home, shoot up the A703 to Penicuik hop over to Flotterstone, and cross the Pentlands over Maidens’ Cleugh. My goal was to get off the A roads before nightfall. I achieve this with time to spare. I take another cheeky chocolate stop and start the climb over Maidens’. It’s tough work on a loaded bike, and I slightly regret taking on the virtual velodrome earlier in the day. I reach the top of the pass at Sunset. 

It's all down hill form here!

I fire up my lights, it’s all downhill from here to home. I’ve done it. I’m not setting any records on the way down, but I’m grinning from ear to ear. I arrive home just after 7. Brilliant.

Finally home, I made it!

Obligatory 'all the kit' pic

Beinn a' Chochuill and Beinn Eunaich

A last minute plan emerged on Saturday night. Meet up with Ruth and Laura on their back from Craggy island triathlon and bag some munros. Much discussion on what would be interesting but not too hard for sore legs we settled on Beinn Eunaich and Beinn Chochuill.

Caroline Russell and I left Edinburgh first thing after a cheeky pit stop in Real Food Café arrived in time to wait for the triathletes. About 10 mins in we stopped for our first snack stop.

 On the way up the road fb told us it was Ruth’s birthday, so we went bought a slide of birthday cake for the summit. 

Naturally we took a team selfie on the summit…

The clouds cleared a tiny bit on the bealach to show how far we’d come, The way back down was pretty steep and sore legs from triathaloning made us slightly slower than the book suggested. 

Then on the way back down we passed through the gauntlet of the terror-cows. 

We survived.

Just.

Soon we were back on the road for another pitstop at real food cafe for dinner (Yum!)

A great day out and two new munros in the bag!

Ladies go packrafting

I’ve been curious to try packrafting for a few months now. I like the idea of being able to walk in to remote places and join up all the blue bits on the map. So, when Caroline pointed me in the direction of Annie’s packraft meet up, I said Yes! 

On a surprisingly bright morning in late September we arrived at Andy’s Backcountry Scot store in Aviemore.  The packraft and paddle probably added about 3kg to my hiking bag, not bad considering my whitewater kayak weights 22kg on its own.

Inflation Time

Fully kitted out, we walked out of Aviemore and up to Loch an Eliein. Time to packraft.  While it was a glorious sunny day it was also rather blowy. I was mindful of Annie’s advice not to let my raft blow away, unfortunately I was so busy holding down my packraft that my buoyancy aid flew away. Some kind SUPers reunited me with it. With all my stuff pinned down against the wind, I began inflating the raft. The process of using a giant dry back to inflate it took a bit of getting used to, but with improved technique relatively efficient.

Ready to go!

We paddled out around the island and over to the other side of the loch. The boat was much more manoeuvrable than I’d expected, going at a reasonable speed even against the wind. My packraft didn’t have a proper spraydeck, but the coverthing kept the splashes out and stayed pretty dry inside the boat.

Around the island

 Getting out of Loch an Eilein we walked the short distance over to Loch Gamhna. It’s too short a walk to be worth packing down the raft, so we carried them. With all the kit in the boat it was impossible to balance it on my shoulder, so Annie and I doubled up. Bec and Caroline, in slightly different models of packrafts simply unhooked their backpacks making it much easier to carry. I think next time, I’d try balancing the backrest on my forehead and shoulders.

Over on Loch Gamnha the wind had picked up further and it was tough work to make progress. We soon made a pit stop for lunch. I realised I had foolishly left my lunch inside my inflated packraft. Oops. After a quick deflate-reflate I was munching on oatcakes and cheese with everyone else in the sunshine. Whilst searching for my food bad I discovered I had suffered a porridge explosion. Fortunately however, the porridge exploded into a plastic bag and not into the packraft or I’d still be in there cleaning it.

Pushing on through the wind we attempted to find the least boggy part of the bank to disembark. With at least semi dry feet, I deflated my packraft disassembled my paddle and tried to remember how it had all fitted on to my backpack. We walked a few miles more through the wood emerging at the main road and a sign pointing towards cake. Cake!

Let there be Cake!

Having devoured a lovely piece of White Lady cake, and earl grey tea, we headed next door to ourcampground. As it turned out the estate we also hosting a wild swimming meet up and a gin launch (!).  We quickly set up camp and wandered back up to the bar, and stage area. I think we looked quite normal in thermals and leggings, compared to the wild swimmers in their Bat cape-like dry robes. Caroline and I shared a cheeky half pizza to supplement our dinners, while Bec located a missing pair of paddles belonging to the hire shop. Returning to camp we cooked our meals (I can confirm, Decathlon’s Apotona dehydrated meals are quite edible), and tried out the composting toilet (better than the portaloos) before turning in for the night.

The next morning we woke up to dry tents but a cloudy sky. After a leisurely breakfast consisting of the remains of my porridge and insta coffee, we packed down while the clouds grew darker. Venturing down to the river Spey, we found it at a decent flow from last weeks rain. This time I felt I knew what I was doing inflating the packraft, and pretty soon we were inflated and ready to go.

Setting off on the Spey

Just as we put on the river it started to rain, and continued intermittently throughout the rest of the day. Continuing down river I instructed the rest of the group in the correct technique for holding a paddle, so that it doesn’t block your face in a photograph. This is possibly the most important thing I’ve learned in all my years boating. On moving water the packrafts are still relatively agile, it is possible to ferry glide catch eddies; I even tried (and failed) to surf a mini-wave.

A short paddle later we found ourselves in Aviemore and after a speedy packdown in the rain, we commenced the short walk back to the Backcounty Scot shop. With boats returned and a quick change we headed down the road for another cake stop in Route 7 café, before hitting the road.

Big thanks to Annie for organising the weekend and Andy Toop for sorting us out with hire packrafts at a bargain price. I had a super time, hope to head out on another packraft adventure soon!

Crap Weather and Car Calamity

Sunday and Monday had appalling forecasts. Phrases like: heavy persistent rain, walking conditions arduous and gusts of 50 mph, might suggest sensible people stay indoors. However we are not sensible people. Instead we looked at the map with two questions ‘what’s the easiest/quickest mountains we can get up in poor weather’ and ‘are they close to a tea room’….

The answer is Meall Buidhe followed by Stuchd an Lochain.

Meall Buidhe, raining at the start

Sunday’s trip up Meall Buidhe was largely uneventful, it was raining at the start, it rained at the top and it rain all the way down. The return along the ridge was particularly brutal, the wind whipping rain into our faces. The walk was certainly quick, up and down in 2hours 32 minutes we outperformed the 3-4 hour quoted by the guidebook. After a quick change we retreated to the tearoom for hot chocolates all round!

Ashley and Phil, questioning their life choices

False summits on Meall Buidhe

Monday was supposed to a repeat performance, same glen but attempting Stuchd an Lochain on the other side of the valley. It’s a lonely road to the top of Glen Lyon and about 500m from the very top of the road, all the warning lights came on in the car. It seemed I’d lost all power and the car just managed to keep juddering forward.

Since we were at the start of the walk anyway, we decided just to head up the hill and bag the summit (again I’m not sure if that’s a sensible person move). The thought of a broken car did slightly taint the walk for me, so not many pictures from Monday. In any case while less rainy than the day before it was rather windy.

Stuchd an Lochain, hoping it might all be OK

Returning to the car I was optimistic that it might have magically fixed itself while we were walking. I was wrong. After a few meters it was clear there was something really wrong. Since there is no mobile reception in Glen Lyon, we limped back down the valley. Poor Phil was subjected to me wailing ‘WHY DOES THIS HAPPEN TO ME?’ all the way. We returned to the Bridge of Balgie cafe, to beg for use of landline to call for help.

Unfortunately I’d naively assumed this car wouldn’t breakdown so didn’t have cover. I Joined the RAC by the roadside for only a mildly extortionate cost, and began waiting for help to arrive. Soon I was cruelly abandoned by Ashley, Phil and Ivanka, some rubbish about needing to catch flights, poor excuse if you ask me…

Loading up in Bridge of Balgie

Three hours later the RAC came to the rescue in the form of a mechanic from the Lix Toll garage, who after a quick look decided to put the Volvo on the flatbed and drive me back to Lix Toll for diagnostics. The pass around Ben Lawers is really quite scenic from the tow truck and the sun was just peeking out but I was in no mood to enjoy the view.

Lix Toll rescue service

At Lix Toll garage the issue was found to be the fuel injection system. Not fixable quickly. The RAC only tow 50 miles for new members, so the car got towed on to the Volvo garage in Stirling, and I was left to make my own way home form there. Another car bites the dust.

I think I may be cursed.

Train adventures in Corrour

Corrour!

Staying in Killin, with Ashley, Phill and Ivanka, the weather had been decidedly autumnal for the first few days. However on Friday night MWIS predicted a break in the weather. Time to hatch a plan!

Since I first heard about it, I’ve been curious to explore Corrour. As the UK’s most remote train station (there are no roads in), it holds the promise of a proper wilderness adventure with the added bonus of being the starting point for a couple of Munros.

Train times checked, an early morning start saw us driving to Bridge of Orchy. The sun peeking through the clouds suggesting the weather might just be as good as forecast.

Early morning views just out of Tyndrum

We arrived at Bridge of Orchy station, in plenty of time to faff about before jumping on the sleeper train. Slightly bemused passengers, just waking up made room for us in the seating compartment while we tucked into Scotrail coffee and biscuits.

Train Adventures!

Two stops later we hopped of at Corrour station just one other couple behind us. The sun was coming out and it was shaping up to be a great day for hill bagging.

Corrour Station train pulling away

First stop was passing Corrour Youth Hostel hidden in the trees at the shoes of Loch Ossian. The now eco hostel used to the old waiting room for Victorian gentry being ferried to the lodge at the other end of the loch.

Loch Ossian Youth Hostel hiding in the trees

The first peak we bagged was Carn Dearg, I’m pretty sure we missed the path to the Summit (Phil claims it doesn’t exist). Nonetheless after an arduous wade through tussocky heather we crested the top to grab a victory pic for the collection.

Carn Dearg summit

After fairly easy traverse we ascended Sgor Gabhrie, making excellent time. We also got our first glimpse of the other couple we’d seen at the station, they we’re making the circuit in the opposite direction (we had been worried they we just that much faster than us). Comparing notes we were warned of paddy field conditions on the decent from Sgor Choinnich. They weren’t wrong.

Sgor Gabhrie summit, also featuring Ivanka's thumb ;-)

Squelchy wet feet notwithstanding, we successfully made our way down to the shoes of Loch. The £20 million mansion at the head of the loch was well hidden in the trees. We were disappointed not to get a good nosey at it; apparently it looks like a James bond villain lair! 

Views down Loch Ossian

As well as the 'James Bond Lair' there is also a small collection of cottages at the head of the loch. The isolation, and the way the cottages are half hidden in the trees gives the place a creepy air! With the midges setting, we didn't stop to explore. Tramping down the edge of the loch we made good time back to station, arriving in plenty of time to grab drinks and snacks at the station café before the return train pulled in.

Removing shoes before cafe time

On the whole Corrour was just as wild and expansive as I’d imagined, however the hydro tracks that criss-cross the valleys slightly takes away from the sense of remoteness to the place.

Panorama fun on Sgor Choinnich