The Cairngorms

south off road for what was probably my favourite leg of the trip. Initially we were pummelled by a strong head wind, which made it very tough going. But with Jez on fine form leading out we were soon through it and into real wilderness country passing lakes and towering peaks. The climb past Culardoch was the biggest of the trip and certainly sapped our energy, but the views and the flat out descent after were well worth it.

We rolled into the town of Braemar mid afternoon to find crowds of people lining the streets waving flags. Did they know we were coming? This was very kind, but a bit much surely. We were soon brought back down to ground as Prince Phillip rolled by in a black Rolls with a police escort. Very surreal! It was all in aid of the Highland Games and Gathering of the Clans apparently. Anyway it did mean there was a barbeque outside a pub where they were serving up venison burgers. Two burgers and chips each later and we were feeling like we may just have overdone it. Whatever happened to our carb conscious diet?

We both agreed later that the ride out of Braemar was one of the toughest ever. The terrain was little more than lightly undulating road, but with half a deer sat in our stomachs and saddle soreness kicking in big time from carrying heavy packs it felt like climbing Everest

We finally reached The Linn of Dee and stopped for a short break to take some pictures. Turning off road onto the trail we saw a sign that stopped us dead: Blair Atholl 22 miles. Our final destination, surely not? We had scheduled another night wild camping. We unfolded the map and realized just how close we were. We looked at each other and although not much was said we both knew what we were thinking. Admittedly it was getting late in the day but could we possibly make it?

mile after mile of amazing rollercoaster track as the light faded fast. A short detour took us through some woods, which due to being almost pitch black we pretty much rode using ‘the force’, otherwise known as sheer luck. Before we knew it we rolled onto tarmac and into Blair Atholl, exhausted but elated.

We couldn’t believe we had made it in two days. At a shade over 130 miles we were well chuffed. Unfortunately as we were back at the B+B a day early they didn’t have a room for us, but kindly allowed us to pitch our tent on the lawn. We had a surreal moment sat outside in the dark on plastic patio chairs eating our last wayfarer meals. After which we marched (ok hobbled) like triumphant soldiers back from battle down to the pub for possibly the best beer I’ve ever tasted to recount just what exactly had taken place over the past two days.

The Cairngorms

Next morning we awoke early with an air of anticipation. The lady who ran the B+B almost fell over backwards when we turned down a fried breakfast, instead opting for a more carb sensible mix of toast and porridge. Still, it was time to get serious now. After sorting our bikes out and loading our packs we pedaled quietly out of Blair Atholl taking the road west through Calvine. At Dalnacardoch Lodge we turned right leaving behind the tarmac in exchange for a mix of double and singletrack. A combination of heavy packs, technical terrain, and over enthusiasm resulted in an amusing Cairngorm initiation involving both of us being spat off our bikes over the bars within about five minutes of each other. I landed on a rocky slope, luckily unscathed, with Jez opting for a muddy puddle as his landing spot of choice. Realizing we would rather not end our trip quite so early we proceeded with a little less haste.

This September had been fairly dry so the river crossings presented no real problems and as we continued on the peaks rose around us with the sun doing it’s best to peek out from behind the clouds from time to time. The rugged terrain was pretty breathtaking as we rolled on past Loch an t-Selich, and through Glen Tromie Woods, after which we stopped for lunch and fired up the stove. Sheltering out of wind behind a bit of drystone walling we brewed up tea and wayfarer meals which went down a treat.

As the light (and my energy) was now fading fast the race was on to try and find a suitable place to camp for the night. It was 9pm by the time we finally pitched the tent in the dark somewhere near Tom ant-Suidhe Mhoir. With the stove on we rapidly consumed supper and some hot chocolate as we recounted the days events, realizing we had managed to do 12 hours in the saddle covering some 60+ miles. Climbing back out of the tent to take a pee in the middle of the night revealed the clearest most star studded sky that either of us had ever seen.

Day 1

Three days of flu wouldn’t normally be my first choice of preparation for our most arduous mountain bike expedition to date, but with so much planning and anticipation nothing was going to stop us now, so after an early start we were on the road north. Eight hours and numerous service stations later we rolled into Blair Atholl, a small village nestled on the edge of the Cairngorm mountains in central Scotland.

Back on the bikes we headed on zig-zagging through Inshriach Forest and across Moor of Feshie. We made good time flying through the well manicured trails of Rothiemurchus Forest, exiting out onto the road at Loch Morlich where we stopped at a small shop and gorged ourselves on well earned sweet sugary treats. But while we sat and ate, the midges obviously had the same idea and so we were soon forced back on the bikes and onwards turning off past Glenmore lodge.

As we crossed the Ryvoan Pass the warm light of the evening sun lit the area with a magic glow. The smoke rising from the chimney of the Ryvoan bothy looked very inviting but we pressed on.

A little further on somewhere around the Braes of Abernethy things went slightly pear shaped. My slight lack of fitness from having flu was beginning to show and tiredness was setting in. Map reading was becoming a pain as every time we stopped the midges arrived and began to drive us mad. All this combined with some really boggy nasty terrain made for a very unpleasant and tiring hour or so. We finally made it out onto a short section of road before turning off road again onto much better trails past Dorback Lodge.

Day 2

We awoke early to a beautiful sunrise lighting up the hills around us. After a quick breakfast we broke camp and headed off, but after twenty minutes or so we ground to a halt. After a slight navigational error, and a bit of backtracking I had the misfortune to puncture right by the side of a swampy river. Within twenty seconds of stopping I looked down to see my black jersey completely white with midges. Head nets (mmm attractive!) were quickly donned and the tube changed pronto, but not before the little gits savaged my legs leaving them red raw.

After our little midge nightmare we decided to reward ourselves with a full on fried breakfast in a little café in the village of Tomintoul. Stomachs full we pedaled out and turned

We set off initially making good speed on decent double track with the steadily sinking sun lighting up the beautiful surroundings. Not long after the ruins of Bynack Lodge however the trail turned to technical single track. Normally we would love riding this sort of challenging terrain, but at the wrong end of the day with heavy bikes, packs, and tired legs it rapidly turned epic. Riding super rocky six inch wide trail with a sheer drop of twenty or so feet down to one side in fading light was a big ask. Jez had a particularly nasty over the bars off which he amazingly walked away from unscathed. This was probably the lowest moment of the trip as it just seemed to go on forever. We began to wonder if we had made a big mistake. Suddenly in the distance we spotted a Landrover. It must be on some sort of decent track, if we could just make it there.

As we rolled out onto the double track our spirits lifted and we began to absolutely floor it. God knows where either of us found the energy but we shifted into the big ring and gunned