A Week on Mull – SGC 2010
July 21st, 2010 • Cycling, Gorge Walking, Hill walking, Mountainbiking • 3 comments • Spad
Well its that time of year again when the Scotstoun Gentlemen’s Club (SGC) head out to the hills for a week of outdoor pursuits – This year we went to Mull. Unfortunately we spent the week trying to predict the unpredictable weather! Nonetheless we made the best of it and got out on the bikes to Tobermory via Loch Frisa, Coastal walking on the Ross of Mull and gorge walking up in Glen Forsa and also by Loch na Keal. So much to do on this Island – definitely heading back there soon.
Spad
That’s some power of water…
July 21st, 2010 • Cycling • 1 comment • Somhairle
My broken wrist has healed now and in celebration I was determined to make it out on the road bike by hook or by crook, 1 month of sitting poking @ a computer and drawing pictures, though productive, does nothing for ones soul or mid-rift for that matter. So off I went intent on a light pootle on shallow roads and warm rain – or so I thought. Spinning through the back roads from Balloch I made it Dumgoyne, I felt good my wrist ached a bit now and then but a constant shuffle around the bars kept it at bay, it was a revelation to not have a totally ridged forearm / wrist and my legs felt fresh and up for it. I was going to make the most of this feeling in my legs and decided I was going to scale the Campsies from the steep side. So off I swung towards Kilearn and Fintry, as soon as i had changed tack the rain started dumping in heavy tirades. My expensive technical clothing had stood up well so far but this rain rendered their sought after properties meaningless and redundant. At least it wasn’t windy I muttered to myself as I glided along fresh, gloss black tarmac. It smoothness was bliss for the old wrist and I hunkered down and made progress. The rain did not relent, not for a minute, I was truly soaked now with screeds of wet tumbling down my face collecting on my tash, it tasted of dirt and diesel, tasty! I swung right onto the foot of the Crow Road and started up the Campsie. The road was a torrent and by this I mean a pretty respectable burn about 1mm deep meandering through the harl. My legs were responding and I made it to the top in fairly swift fashion considering my form. Stopping at the top I scoffed a packet of the kids malted biscuits, wiped my eyeballs clean and made for the descent. What a road this is, it is a pleasure to ride any which way and it to had been given a fresh patchwork of black tarmac and not before time. I actually overtook a car on my way down which is always good for a bit of confidence, the water in the rivers was white and torrid. I swung left down towards Lennoxtown and in predictable fashion the wind assaulted me big style, robbing me of my exhilarating pace. SHIT! I barked sending the previously docile roadside sheep scrabbling up the bank. The car i had passed trundled by with it’s cargo of elderly, they squinted at me as if to say I was mad (which at this point i was). It’s fine I thought, if it’s in my face here it’ll be on my back on the way home but once again my logical presumptions were blighted by old Mother Scotlands willingness to make even the most rational observation futile and pathetic. I was tired now and the grind home was grim, meeting the rush hour traffic at Strathblane was the final nail in the coffin and I struggled home like a collie dug trapped in a fence. Still it was a fine day out, I feel rejuvenated and ready to jump back into bed with the cruel and depraved mistress that is Scotland in July. Vive la Eccosse! Day in front of the Tour tomorrow me thinks.
Pro legends ride the Highlands
July 2nd, 2010 • Mountainbiking • No comments • Somhairle
Found this cool video from reset films. Steve Peat, Hans Rey and Danny Macaskill riding Skye and heli-biking in Torridon. Never ridden Skye but dying to go and Torridon is hard wired to my soul, it’s truly awesome (in the true sense of the word)…
Also here’ s an article about the trip from guide Ewan Wilson. http://www.mtbholidayscotland.com/news.html
Ben Lomond by Bike, Rib and Wrist.
June 26th, 2010 • Cycling, Mountainbiking • 4 comments • Somhairle
It all started with a good smattering of faff. Wrestling with spads rear axle trying to install a new freehub we hummed and hawed dismantling and re-assembling the thing, there was definitely something going a wry inside it. Never the less we pushed on chucking the bikes in the car and heading up to Rowardennan to meet Aidan who had come across from Seil – Oban. After more faff somehow missing the main path and then stopping several times to try and get spads wheel to that magic sweet spot between not spinning and flailing about haplessly behind.
The bottom part of the path is quite deceptive, very rough with huge rocks and steps, after the initial steep gnarlyness the path levels out a bit and there is a stretch that is pretty smooth and cyclable until you come onto the shoulder of the ben itself and everything gets steep and rocky again. We merrily clambered up through a combination of shouldering and pushing with passing walkers commenting on our craziness periodically. The path levels out again and cycling this part is fun, challenging trialsy coolness. We could see the summit beyond capped in cloud the wind was getting up and we were under no illusions we were on a munro in a Scottish summer. We stopped in a sheltered spot and got fuelled up, spad footered with his bike for a time and I installed the helmet camera on my bonce. Onwards and upwards. The summit was indeed shrouded in cloud when we got there although strangely sheltered from the wind, which we summised was due to some sort of thermal based aberration. There was a wily old fellow from Vancouver and we had a good yarn discussing his views on our country most of which were informed and true.
So to the descent… Seats were lowered camera turned on and off we went. Be under no illusions, this mountain is very rough; rideable (just) for the most part but very technical rocky gnar means it is seldom that you will find the line through at every juncture. I was loving it finding my stride and managing to find a path through the rocky assault. My speed was getting pretty high and I was able to straight line and hop a lot of the nasty parts, with my confidence rising I began to lay off the brakes more and more, i see a small rock drop there is a line to the left I would have to slow to make. I straight line it. The front wheel clears then the unmistakable ping of chainring alloy hitting rock, the bars fold away from my grasp and the ground rushes up to meet me. I flail around for a bit, I have definitely crashed and my right wrist does not want to support my weight. I sprachkle around until I am upright – for some reason i turn the camera off? I’m in pain, feels like a sprain, spad arrives, he has no notion I have crashed till I tell him. He helps me strap the offending wrist up, I gather myself and it feels okay but i can’t grip the bars. Badly sprained I repeat. I begin the walk down, the pain comes and goes and swinging the arm around takes the pain away. We meander down, taking a bike down ben Lomond with only your left hand can be tricky and takes a long time, we have certainly been lagging in every aspect of this trip except the ascent. The pain is less by the bottom section I rode the last few hundred metres, un weighing the injury over the bumps.
At home the swelling is noticeable i stick some ice on it. It feels better still, I have a bath feels great. Go to bed, bit uncomfortable but I fall asleep. 2 in the morning I wake up, I try to move, I scream. The agony is palpable, something is wrong, very wrong. I take some pain killers wake in the morning and decide the hospital is calling. I spend some hours in casualty, I have one broken rib on the left side and a compound fracture in my wrist. I’m in a cast for four weeks. Just goes to show you can do serious damage without being able to acknowledge it. I had sprained it badly so this probably masked the underlying break. It’s hard to say what I have learned from this, my confidence on the descent was high but I have struggled with confidence before and it is a hard won attribute, knowing your limits is important but I was no where near my edge when I crashed, a simple misjudgement of the trail is all I can put it down to. What I will take from this is that eye balls out descending on big mountains is something that is always going to be fraught with danger and should be approached with a higher modicum of respect for the terrain and exposed nature of the environment.
Out on the Cuillin
June 25th, 2010 • Hill walking, Mountains • No comments • Misha
One moment I was in Glasgow, the next I was standing on the Cuillin Ridge. It seemed that all I did was blink and there I was, 8pm on Saturday night. Quite why it took me so long to come to these mountains I don’t know, but my reaction was not one that I expected. Up on the ridge I felt constricted, like I couldn’t move backwards, forwards or any which way without going over some kind of drop to a seemingly certain death. This landscape is intimidating, it took me almost an hour to make any kind of move along the ridge, fighting an overwhelming urge to go straight back down. I had no guide book, no advice on which way to go, no rope, and no partner to belay me even if I did have a rope.
Three who were bedding in for a Bivi on one of the tops found it amusing that I had a fishing rod ‘Fishing trip gone out of control’ I said. I edged my way along the ridge but got spooked at an airy gap. I couldn’t see any sensible way round without climbing a short section of rock with a large drop beneath it, which I wasn’t confident enough to commit to. In an attempt to find a way round it I ended up going further and further down, almost unintentionally finding an escape route off the ridge, but also quite glad to be on safer ground.
Down in the Coire, and held hostage by a cloud of midgies I slept in. Back at Sea Level I was a spare part hanging about at the Glen Brittle campsite on my own, and so I went for run, out to the point, on by the island of Soay, where I shouted down to a sea Kayaker, and round the back of the Cuillin towards Coruisk following a deer. After a few hours of running through the bogs my legs tired.
At Sligachan, having a pint with a new friend Terry, we planned a trip up Am Basteir the next day. The cloud would spoil our plan, and I watched the old and new chief clash later that night, when Billy got knocked off his feet.
Jen gave me a lift back and we stopped by the Cluanie Damn, where I caught no fish, but she did take some photos. Another Highland adventure.
Strathblane woods – video
June 21st, 2010 • Cycling, Mountainbiking • No comments • Somhairle
I went back up the woods on Sunday found some more classics, spent hours up there. Deserted, sunny and peaceful what a fine waste of time.
Strathblane woods
June 18th, 2010 • Cycling, Mountainbiking • 1 comment • Somhairle
Me, Misha, Spad and Chae headed out to look for some trails in Strathblane woods the other night. It must have been the first time the four of us had been out cycling since we were teenagers. The weather was stunning – super hot. We had a classic rumble through the usual suspects in Mugdock then headed up Cuilt Brae woods above Strathblane. We found some real gems in here, fast rooty and dusty, heaps of traction, steep to flowing. Classic Scottish woods. There’s a multitude of options in here and you could cut around for hours.
10 Under the Ben
June 11th, 2010 • Cycling, Mountainbiking • 3 comments • Spad
Well it was another great race and a great day in the sun, rain and mud! Finally I managed to put some of the footage together to make this wee vid. Our group of friends had a total of 6 teams entered! I’m already looking forward to next years race but for now, we’ve got the Tour de Ben Nevis coming up in September…
Spad
It’s massif
June 11th, 2010 • Mountains • No comments • Somhairle
Here’s a wee picture based on a little part of a big boulder I saw up at Dumbarton castle on a nice day out with the family. I was fascinated by some of the boulders and rock faces up there. Lot’s of different forms and images hidden within. It struck me that this little detail of one boulder looked like a big ol’ mountain. The perception of scale is pretty interesting in concern to mountains and people, just think of standing in the glen coe then the himalayas. The range of difference on the ground is huge but when placed in the frame of a picture the true nature of scale is harder to fathom…
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