I’ve wanted to take in Tower Ridge on the Ben for years now, and it finally occurred to me just to go and do it. An old mate, Andy Yuill was up for it and since he just finished his masters he actually had the time too. We met at the King’s house on tuesday night about ten minutes after the bar shut (poor planning) and minced for a while taking photos of the Buachaille while we polished off a couple of bottles of Deuchars that Andy had brought.

After a remarkably poor night’s sleep (top tip: don’t forget your sleeping bag) and breakfast at Morrison’s in Fort Bill we started the slog up to the CIC and the Douglas Boulder. The weather was pretty good but the rock still wet and slimy enough in places that soloing the VDiff direct route up the boulder in hiking boots and rucksacks had a little more spice than we’d signed up for…. It all went well though and the rope stayed in the bag, thanks in part to Andy’s technique of chucking a sling tied to your harness over any tiny nubbin that showed itself. I’m fairly sure that if you have to hold it in place it’s psychological protection at best, but it kept us happy enough at the time to carry on.

Once you get off the Douglas Boulder and onto Tower Ridge the ground gets much easier. With the rock at an easier angle and significantly drier we could put a lot more time into enjoying our position and less into bowel and bladder control. The weather towed with us from time to time but it was just playing, testing our resolve rather than teaching us a lesson. And it’d wouldn’t be a day out on the Ben without getting rained on at least a little, would it?

It was surprisingly quiet up there yesterday. We met two groups on the route: one couple gearing up at the bottom that never did seem to top out on the Douglas Boulder, and two lads on their third big ridge of the day and a bit of a mission. We could see a group of three on the North East Buttress from time to time and the occasional tourist poked their head over the skyline as we neared the top. It can’t be often that you get the north face of Nevis almost to yourself, and that combined with the lurking weather made the day all the better.

A fine route, finished with a wee dram on the summit and a spectacular sunset on the way down. You can’t really ask for much more. Except maybe a sleeping bag.

In preparation for the Tour de ben Nevis myself and Spad headed up Conic hill for some hike-a-biking practice. Conic hill is not very high but it is steep and gnarly. It was a magnificent night, the air was still, the moon was hung massive and full in the South East; we set about looking for the path less traveled and ended up scrambling through the waist height ferns in the dark wood looking for the steeps i had frequented before (see previous post). We found them eventually but decided it was to dangerous to attempt them in the dark overgrown especially after my propensity for crashing lately. The third is yet to come. They say a pictures worth a thousand words so here’s 2.145 of them to describe our experience.

I first saw the Cambusbarron on an mtbcut video. The trails looked amazing and it’s taken quite sometime to get it together and actually make the visit.

Myself and Spad rolled up mid-afternoon with little or no idea where the trails were, we knew there was a quarry and that was about it. We set off up towards the quarry to find a pretty imposing set of dirt jumps with wall rides, gaps and ever increasing amplitudes. Not much for the jumps, we set off in search of the singletrack. After a few bum steers into various other parts of quarry – which look like they’d make good climbing routes – we finally found the route up to the top. It’s a pretty severe climb although the actual height you reach is less than 200m it feels like more with the track being technical and demanding. On the way up, it’s easy to see how rewarding your descent will be with stunning natural sections and some immense man made jumps and berms. At the top there’s a choice of three different routes and after spending nearly 4 hours there we only managed to ride two of them. Infact we only rode one section twice, the sheer amount of possible routes in this small area of land in astounding. With everything from sweet natural singletrack to enormous man made hucks, the amount of variety here is vast, with a forest landscape of pine, birch and alder through tunnels of rhododendrons to the stark apocalyptic graffitied man made quarries. In the hours we spent bombing around the place we never tired of the trails even in an attempt to get back to the car we ended up finding more routes and jumps. It would certainly take a few more trips before we could get a feel for where to go and how to link it all up. Despite the small size of the area we were clapped out, climbing up the hill over and over again is wearing, it is steep and you certainly get a solid work out from the haste required to cram in another adrenalised descent.

This is a place that will make you a better rider in every respect, it will make you fitter, increase your skill and fill you with confidence, the possibility to stretch your ability to such a high level is something that I’ve only found in the high mountains or on DH specific routes. It must be noted this is not a trail centre, the trails are built and maintained by locals so it should be given the respect it deserves, you could do yourself a serious injury on a lot of the stuff here, they’re are no posts or markings to warn of the dangers and the work people have done building this place is humbling and inspiring.

Here’s the mtbcut video.

A trip home gave an excuse to hit the old stomping ground, the formative trails which ignited a love of woods, rocks, mud and the mountain bike. An Aird is a large tract of upland on the Northern fringes of Loch Ness, it’s highest point is only 400m or so but the roads and trails I frequented tend to head straight up and over the shallow ridge that comprises the spine, the gradients are steep in parts and provide a solid challenge.

Life has changed inexorably over the years and much has changed on the hill too. Paths that were well used by horses bike and foot have fallen faint, silent and overgrown. Despite the influx of new homes and people to the hill the interiors seem less well travelled as they once were. There are hot spots like, Reelig Glen, Abriachan and the Mam Mor walks which through convenience, car parking and way marking have become popular (with good reason), taking local feet and tyres away from the network on which I cut my teeth.

Anyone who has spent a lot of time in one piece of country – especially when growing up – will understand the affinity that builds up between the person and the land. Finding and cutting routes, following faint deer tracks, exploring and stringing together pieces of trail to create secret un-interupted loops which only you and some select others know is special. In my absence a lot of these treasured gems have been reclaimed by nature and are no longer rideable or even distinguishable.

This sense of home and belonging is something I miss in my suburban surroundings. Something I long to re-kindle later in life. I may not end up back in An Aird but it remains that where ever I settle – I will always ♥ and return to An Aird.

Somhairle and myself took off for a day of pedalling to clear the heads.  From Clydebank through Kilsyth and going up and over the Campsie hills only getting to the top mattered as frantic modern life disappeared to a background murmour.    Road cycling is a strange and amazing undertaking – even running up mountains doesn’t seem to reduce you to exhaustion quite as quickly.  Yes! a motorbike screeching by as you trundle up a hill puts question marks in your head, but then as its roar disappears over the horizon, it’s just you, the wind rustling, an open road, and a sublimely peaceful feeling as you whirr along.  It’s an honourable admission – where there is life there will always be pain, accept it and reap the rewards.  These roads have been ploughed by many cycling greats, and passing a number of cyclists with friendly waves you get the impression this deep routed culture lives on.   Nachos at Fintry were well deserved before the descent and a tired last climb over Mugdock.  We congratulated each other on our return.

Here’s the route.

I had wanted to ride the hill over from Faslane to Loch Lomond for a while now. It’s famed as one of Robert Millars training routes before he left to race in Europe and you can see why it help breed such a champion climber. The run out to Faslane along the firth o’ Clyde is fast and mostly flat, with a decent road surface which is wide enough to let traffic past without to much bother. Myself and Misha had a good chain going and made the imposing military hotspot – that is Faslane – pretty rapidly despite a moderate head wind. Turning right at the roundabout at the Northern edge of the naval base begins the climb in earnest with a constant gradient on a beautifully smooth and wide road. Bearing right at the second roundabout at the top of the first climb the road seriously kicks up with a serious gradient, the presence of snow gates at this juncture is a sure sign of what your about to face. The road that runs along the side of the ‘DANGE AREA’ that the m.o.d have commandeered to the North of Glen Fruin is a phenomenal piece of tarmac. Flanked by high peaks – some up to 600m – you get a real sense of being in the mountains and the road reflects this. It doesn’t actually gain an enormous height but undulates across the feet of the hills to north. There are many ups and downs all fairly short but steep with several labeled as 10%. It is clear to see how Robert Millar developed his ability to attack on the alps and pyrenees here. The way the road rolls up and down encourages you to use the momentum gained from the frequent descents to attack the steeps and power to the top. It has to be said I ran out of steam on a lot of these steep ascents but Misha managed to honk to the summits with more conviction. The descent from the top down to Loch Lomond is good but punctuated with many undulations so it’s not a full on high speed freewheeling affair. Some parts of it are very steep and speeds of 40+ are easily attainable. The road remains wide, with a superb smooth but grippy surface and traffic is low. Unfortunately the day ended on a low note when I picked up a puncture on the rough cycle path around the loch. I fixed and re-fixed it to discover after much faff that the valve had a tiny split in it. So a walk back to Balloch from Duck bay to catch the train back to the city was required. I will definitely be riding this road again, it is a beautiful area despite the military presence and riding it the opposite direction would present an even greater climbing challenge. Highly recommended. Here’s the route.