A repeat of the Foray into Highland Perthshire - 11th November 2018

Wanting a 3rd 200 for the month I checked out the weather forecast for the weekend on the Friday, and seeing a rubbish Saturday and nice Sunday decided to get stuff done on the Saturday and ride Sunday.

Stuff duly done and the route slightly adjusted to allow receipt based proof of passage in case of GPS failure I woke to a day that was clearly iffy in many different ways.

In the woods in Lowland Perthshire

After struggling to wake up I set off along the Tay Coast, my legs felt heavy and slow, and the dark clouds in the distance didn't give me much hope of as nice a day as I was expecting.  As a regular ride opener for me I know the route well, climb from the house to Muir Dens, descend(ish) to Newburgh, flat(ish) to Kintillo, long slow climb to Forgandenny, choose between Invermey and Forteviot, through Dunning, past Maggie Wall's, stay on the wee road to save a flat crossing of the A9, into Auchterarder.

So many of my routes follow this because it's the nicest start to a north or west bound route, from here today we're heading north.

Buchanty looking North

Out of Auchterarder it's a pleasant undulating ride through farmland to Kinkell Bridge, the climbing starts to ramp up from here was we climb out of the Scottish Midland Valley, easily at first then as we cross the A85 at Fowlis it ramps up to the toughest climb of the day through Fowlis Wester village and onto Buchanty where Glen Almond eases us into the Highlands in the Sma' Glen. 
Autumn lingers here, trees still showing their Amber leaves, the heather still brown, but a taste of winter was in the air, mist ahead, dark clouds behind and a chill wind from the east, but the climb keeps me warm.

The Sma' Glen

The village of Amulree sits out here, alone in the wilderness at the foot of Glen Quaich where it widens to Strath Braan.  Speed picks up as you begin to descend towards Dunkeld rolling past the once derelict hotel now being redeveloped into homes and an inn.
All too soon the Aberfeldy junction arrives and it's time to get the climbing legs back in action to climb Glen Cochil until you're just shy of 400m above sea level.
It's taken the best part of 24Km in lumps, bumps and ramps to get to this height from 87m near Fowlis, but it's going to take only 5km to lose it all on the way into Aberfeldy.

Climbing to Amulree

Sunset at Rannagullzion

Almost Home

The threatened rain begins as I descend the already wet road, taking too much care at times, the rapid descent punctuated by road works.  The town is quiet for once and I lunch at the co-op before having observed the main road deciding there's no need to use the more scenic north road.
The ramp in Logierait doesn't feel as bad as normal, but it turns out I'm not trying as hard.  The rest of the road to Pitlochry feels the same, easy but I'm not putting as much effort in as normal. It's been a long year.  In Pitlochry I manage to miss the turn off for the Moulin, my glasses not helping visibility with the rain running down them.

Mildly cursing my error I turn, something that would normally be impossible in Pitlochry due to the flow of tourist traffic, a rainy day in mid-November proving great for a quiet ride.
In the rain I plod the climb out, still not feeling so bad, but still seemingly hardly trying.
I reach the first summit, the rain spoiling the achievement, ruining the view and leaving a pothole hiding layer of water on the road surface.  I knew on the way up that the descent into Strathardle would be restrained today, though the road has a good surface visibility through my glasses proved to be the limiting factor.
 

Rolling through Kirkmichael I realized there's two pubs in the village so no need to be dependent on the shop at all, I don't stop.

The climb over to the A93 at Bleaton and then over Dalrulzion Bridge at Bleaton Hallet the river in spate below and then the sharp dig to High Rannagullzion; they like their Yoghs round here. Finally the descent to Alyth marks the beginning of the end, I stop at the co-op for a late second lunch and a sweet I had promised myself.  Now riding dark wet roads I'm riding with light traffic after being alone for so long; the climb onto the muir from Newtyle saw the heaviest traffic of the day, three cars in a minute!

Riding the muir road towards Muirhead I see a stream of cars approaching the village from the Blairgowrie road and I consider taking the shorter but sharper Dronley road, but decline. In the village it's relatively quiet for such an important route into Dundee, by the time I reach the summit of this last climb in the darkness of the woods between Camperdown and Templeton I've had little to trouble me. The plunge into Dundee begins, 131m of descent from here to the bridge, watching for traffic exiting Campy, across the Kingsway flyover Circle, Dunsinnane circle and onto the Lochee Bypass, hardly needing to slow traffic is so light, the only climb of the descent is found as a sharp dig on the bypass takes you from south road up to the village limit at the railway bridge, the council have signed the bus lane badly, the first two signs say local buses only, the third and final says bikes and taxi's too. On the lochee road plunge I drag the brakes, not due to road conditions but because the car in front dare's stick to the speed limit!  Another clean roll across the Dudhope circle and I'm onto the Inner Ring Road, through the tunnel, the tunnel light bright compared to the outer surrounds and back into the wet darkness, finally I'm stopped by the lights at the East Dock Street junction, but from here it's a gentle pedal through the docks and a walk up the steps onto the bridge.

That's BR number three for November complete and I really need a rest, so for the remainder of the month I'm promising myself some easy riding, just enough to keep the fitness up for a crack at the Kingdom Come 400 at the start of December, it'll be... Interesting!

The Long Dark Teatime of an Audax Soul plus a 200Km DIY to round the weekend off - 3 and 4th November 2018

The Long Dark Teatime of the Soul 

is the term given to the wretched boredom of the immortal being Wowbagger the infinitely prolonged, who having not been born immortal has no ability to cope with it and by Sunday Tea Time is rather short of things to do other than travel the universe insulting people. It is also the name of the second Dirk Gently book, but that relates to Norse gods.

Anyway this is the Long Dark Teatime of an Audax Soul and this possibly refers to the fact that
a) It's running in November
b) It's running in Scotland in November
c) We were cycling to the Restaurant at the end of the Universe, just over the border in Longtown.
Possibly.


When I arrived a large number of Brevet cards were laid out on the table waiting for collection, sadly and likely due to the weather forecast the vast majority of them were still laying on the table waiting for non-collection when the starting time of 0800 was approaching and the handful of riders that turned up trudged to their bikes to prepare to set off.

I had been staying in Selkirk, and Selkirk is on a hill, Galashiels however has been built in a hollow, the result was that while I'd woken up to the sound of the wind whirling up the street and crisp packets scraping along the road down in Gala all felt calm.  We set off along the usual start route and just as we crested out of the trees the wind hit!

Headwinds aren't my thing, really, I'm not built for them, tallish, not exactly skinny and possessing the aerodynamics of a kite aren't exactly great for cycling into headwinds; I started to go backwards thankfully only metaphorically however my descent of the Clisham with a force 7 blowing down Scaledale and almost stopping me in my tracks on the South-West bound sections of switchback were in my memory at this point.

I made the classic mistake of following another rider when also knowing the correct route as we passed through Selkirk thankfully an easy error to fix but this sent me even further backwards through the pack, from 1st on the road to last in 5km!

The ride up the Ettrickvalley was largely uneventful, beyond having my head down trying to maintain a rhythm and keep going with the wind head on but at least sheltered by the geography and trees, however the road takes an exposed kink and here the wind really hit side on, and now I was remembering my second climb of the Bealach na Ba!  The strong constant wind requiring a distinct lean to hold a straight line, the gusts requiring that line to be fairly far left to avoid being blown off the other side of the road; the road turned back to South-West and went back to being only an annoyance.

The first control was the Old School at Eskdalemuir and I tucked into Beans on Toast also known as "the non-cheese option", I'm not usually hungry by here but today I needed it, 3 hours to do less than 60km and it's not even all that hilly a route.  I struggled to get my wet gloves back on and then shortly after restarting discovered I'd miszipped my rain jacket so had to stop and sort that.  From here the route sheet took us over the Castle O'er road rather than the more direct Langholm road; I had considered it but I'm not a huge fan of the A7 between Langholm and Longtown so stuck with the route sheet; I knew there was a decent amount of tree cover beside this road from looking on the satellite and there certainly was, except for the section where it kinks and puts you side on to a south westerly, handy!

Eventually the road descended although from my HR chart alone you wouldn't know it was a descent as I was pushing 140bpm to keep going and this remained the case along a rather nice country route into Longtown crossing the unmarked border on a bridge over the River Sark.

At the garden centre (Sadly not called Milliways) just out of Longtown it was time to eat again; another menu scan for the non-Cheese option and a ham and pineapple toastie was on its way to me; I ate my cake as I waited.

Some riders left as I arrived, others arrived as I ordered and some stragglers arrived as I left the Restaurant at the End of the Universe and turned back to Gala.

It was now of course close to dark O'Clock and my dynamo rear light had packed in, I suspect the problem was too much water getting in through the wire holes; note to self weather seal its replacement. I put on my backup battery light and hoped I had charged it up recently enough to last.

Not long before I started to climb the Castle O'er road again I was passed by a rider who I thought asked "14 miles to Longtown", it sounded about right so nodded, though I now suspect it was more "14 hour cut off?" if I had heard properly I would have suggested to her that being out of time (although the only indicator of time limits I was using was my disturbingly low average speed as there was no way I was taking the Brevet card out of its zip lock bag) it would make sense to return, oh well.

It was still daylight as I summited the Castle O'er road and lost the tailwind as the trees arrived, the further good news was that I knew Eskdalemuir and Tea Time number two wasn't far away.  I had taken extra care to try to remember any road issues I'd spotted on the way up just in case the road was flooded on the way back down, it wasn't put some of the potholes I had seen were now swimming pools for the toads.  One major note I had made was that one of the cattle grids was missing a rung and to make sure I kept to the left on the way back (I had swung to the right side on the way up)  This duly acted on it was through a minefield of potholes and into Eskdalemuir for a Chilli Baked potato (Again the non-cheese option)

By now I was really struggling to get my wet kit back on, I think it took longer to get my gloves on that it took me to order and eat the baked potato; it was now dark out there, the Long Dark Teatime really had started.

In my front light I could see the rain lashing down, the edge of the road and darkness in front of me; the road hardly distinguishible in the light that got through to it and I hit the odd bump obscured by standing water on the road, occasionally I felt my foot touch the water at the bottom of the stroke. 

I didn't really notice the climb and then descent, I just plodded on through the dark living in my rain diminished bubble of light; of all the times riding with MTB lights as backups to battery Road lights and my first could of Dynamo lit rides this was the one I could have done with it... and the MTB.
Somewhere in the darkness I passed two walkers huddling in a bus shelter, surprised perhaps at my cheery "Evening", and somewhere in that darkness crossed a stone bridge, turned a corner and felt the water rising; chocolate brown water sat on the road surface, disguising even the grass verge, my route only identifiable by the bushes and reflective poles at the side of the road. My feet disappearing into the water, my shoes full, my waterproof overshoes overcome their capabilities.  In the distance a light was approaching, I carried on weight slightly back just in case there was a pothole or other bump somewhere in there.

Out of the ball of light a pickup ploughing its way through the water, a bow wave spreading either side, I shifted my line and he ploughed on, the wave washing over my knees and crotch, I hardly noticed I was that wet already.

Aiden who had arrived at Longtown as I was leaving and was the only rider I saw before the woman who asked about 14hrs, caught me on the trike, I now knew I would probably be the last finisher, if I made it back in time and time was dragging on; however I was ploughing on as best I could and the average speed started to climb again after Ettrickbridge.

I finally rolled into the Arriveé at 10 to 8, soaked, bedraggled, exhausted, there was actually 3 riders somewhere behind me all had run out of time and/or energy including the woman who asked about 14hrs and found other methods of return. Two other riders wrong turned and took the road to Ettrick quite early on and packed at the café in Easkdalemuir  after correcting their route, knowing they'd be out of time.

The badge and card I received at the finish stated: "Where we went I hardly know" and shows a picture of bike lights shining in the darkness.

Probably my toughest day out on a bike so far.

A DIY 200

I decided I wanted to knock out two 200km rides in the weekend and then hopefully get a 3rd not much later in November in order to get quickly back to winter resting rides in preparation for repeating the process in December, January and February...

Initially I had decided to try and set off as early as possible, but after a tough day out in the wind and rain I decided I wanted longer in bed, eventually mounting my rather messy steed just before 9am and setting of from Selkirk to Biggar, roads were quiet so I stuck to the main road.  I grabbed a Sainsburys lunch deal and a bit more and gorged it all while standing at the door with the bike.

As I rolled out of Biggar I realized my front mech was no longer shifting, baws.  I had started the weekend with a falshing green battery indicator but hadn't thought to check how far I had gone in order to determine if there was 400km in it, evidently there wasn't. I was now stuck in the small ring for what should have been a big ring blast up to Abington and then on to Wanlockhead on the gentler side of the climb to Scotland's highest village.

At Wanlockhead I stopped at the museum and got some sweets, the tearoom was open but I didn't have time for another lunch!  I then ground my way up a steep ramp in a stupid gear, nearly stalling at the top which would have put me on the tarmac if I hadn't managed to keep it going; a 12% ramp, 20rpm at 6.5kmh isn't big and isn't clever... My cadence sensor then packed in...
Light, Gears and now Cadence sensor, well at least it's something minor this time!

The descent of the Mennock pass was spoilt by two things, not just the lack of gears but also a stiff breeze that I'd only felt breifly on the way up to Abington but was now allowing me to control the bikes speed by varying my aero tuck (it's allowed, I spin out 36-14 at around 30kmh).
A rather enjoyable descent though and I'm evidently just going to have to return, with working gears and descend it again!

At the bottom of the hill I turned onto an old alignment that had more cars on it than the A76 due to an Autotest taking place, the marshalls ushered me through and I carried on to Thornhill where a heavy dark sky loomed ahead; lunch two took place here as I knew there was basically nowhere from here to Moffat as I'd certainly pass Ae after the café closed; and I wasn't wering PJs anyway so would never blend in with the Downhillers in my bright lycra road kit.

The climb over to Ae proved pretty gentle thankfully and I found myself on the busy Dumfries to Beattock road in darkness worrying about the battery rear light flashing away too weakly to light up the ground below the bike like I'm now used to and so with no assurance that it was working, eventually I stopped and double checked, it was of course fine.

The climb from Moffat to the top of the Tail surprisingly didn't seem as long and drawn out as it usually does, it was a dark night but otherwise clear, I could see the houses dotted along Moffatdale and eventually the campers making their tea in the carpark at the foot of the waterfall (which the road doesn't actually follow despite me referring to the road as the Tail)

At the top I knew most of the suffering was over, it's all down hill from there, or so it seems, but when you're speed input is limited those flat bits and slight rises suddenly become mountains and I crawled a few sections that I'm sure I've previously done at more than double the speed.

Finally I got back to Selkirk, knackered, hungry and due to using cadences outwith my normal range aching knees. It was time for a fish supper and the drive home.