Tour of the Borders and Galloway 600 - 1st June 2019

After "Over the Hill and Back" the Focus was due a bit of attention so on the Monday night, as I carried out the standard routine of cleaning road debris from the frame, cleaning and re-lubing the chain and generally checking it over I felt a clicking in the headset.
I decided to leave it for the night as it was getting late and I had a spare set of bearings in the toolbox waiting so it was only a 5 minute job.

On Tuesday I took the front end apart and found that as usual the bottom bearing unit had split into it's constituent parts, the top bearing was fine of course so I grabbed the spare bearing from the toolbox and discovered it was for the Genesis rather the Focus.  Undeterred I found a website offering next day delivery on the bearing I needed, but it was well past time for that so would have to wait until Thursday for delivery, hatching a plan to visit the local bearing shop at lunchtime to see if they had any.

Clydesdale around sunset on the first night

After a few minutes in the Bearing shop at Lunch time on Wednesday receiving a not unexpected explanation of how bike bearings are either custom to the manufacturer or standard and that this one wasn't standard (you'd think then that the manufacturer would specify them with suitable weather proofing) I left empty handed and dependent on Royal Mail delivering on Thursday.

I was otherwise in the huff with the bike and therefore ignored it for the evening.

When I got home on Thursday the bearings and a new frame bag had arrived, I fitted the bearings with a bit of faff as I managed to drop the top bearing and then tried to use a spare which of course was also for the Genesis, but eventually I got the bike set up. I span the front wheel to test the lights and discovered there was no back light.

I checked the cable and found one line was failing continuity so I'd probably broken the wire while the bars were disconnected from the steerer; further to this my throat started to scratch badly.

I spent some time trying to get the cable fixed but nothing seemed to work, to add insult to injury I dropped the soldering iron on my finger while failing to tin a wire in an attempt to attach a ring terminal and lost some time swearing with my hand under the tap.  Plan B was a battery rear light, the best I have is a B&M Secula but that has an issue with the operation of the switch, the rubber plug has gone soft and it can't push the switch, I'm still working on a solution to that as the previous fix involving a blunted drawing pin rusted away.  I looked at removing the rear carrier bracket from an old rack for a cateye light that would fit nicely on the bagman... it was rusted on and wasn't going to shift, my throat getting scratchier and midnight rapidly approaching it was time for Plan G.

The Genesis was retrieved from it's storage location at the back of the garage, short ride wheels replaced with the dynamo and 36 spoke rear wheel, bagman on and little time to worry about the fact I've not ridden it in the new shoes yet, I fitted the new frame bag, loaded it up, loaded the car and went to bed.

At the start

I'd taken the Friday off work so I could get a decent sleep before a relaxed journey south mid-afternoon although the scratchy throat didn't help much with either and if anything it was getting worse.
Robbie had decided to enter the ride so I went to collect him from the station in Dundee just after midday and we soon joined the traffic jam that is the Edinburgh Bypass, we eventually made it to Newcastle just before 4, plenty of time to Metro into town for tea, for Robbie to panic buy a base layer and stock up with last minute provisions.

Waiting for the off

I got an early night, though I was repeatedly woken by my nose and throat, I felt pretty good for a morning when we arrived at the start in Ponteland.  Andy had a good spread available and a good number of riders were lined up for the start.  Robbie started faffing with his Wahoo which was failing to start up properly and none of the reset button combinations were working so he set the gps running on his phone and having left his route sheet in the car decided he'd just have to hang onto people. We rolled out at the back of the pack and set off for the first control at Alnwick.  A number of good riders were around us including Michael and Neil, and Steve Scott who's Arrow team we rode in, so we barrelled along quite nicely

On the road

As is customary I was dropped as soon as the gradient rose. However I soon started to recognise the road and at Acklington Station I realized we were on the same route northbound as Merse and Moors uses towards Alnwick.  The road was mostly flat with the odd bump and on each bump any distance I'd clawed back was lost again until the climb to Shillbottle where finally I no longer saw those in front.  I started to see other riders again as I rolled through Wooler, the first Co-Op in town rammed with cyclists looking for receipts, some deciding not to wait went looking for another source.  I rolled into the town centre and found the market to be on forcing a minor reroute, I spied the trusted cut out Co-Op logo only to discover that as I didn't have time to set up a funeral plan I'd need to find somewhere else, pausing to consider my position I spotted that I was at the back Morrisons and obtained a water top up and sweets considering that I would arrive in Morebattle at lunch time and there was a café there who were expecting us.

On the road

From Alnwick the route became bumpy and led us past the pub in Eglingham where their neighbour took the huff about bikes leaning against things and moved the bikes during "Nae bother to us" as we sat and rejuvenated at the bar.

Through Wooler where my limited English geography meant I was confused as to why we didn't need to control and onto the Yetholm road, I was suffering from my scratchy throat more now and I was gunked up a fair bit.  Rolling into Morebattle I was delighted by the thought of a decent café feed... Unfortunately the café weren't quite prepared for 60 hungry cyclists descending on them in the manner I had anticipated, and the service of soup and sandwiches was slow.  I skipped the soup and had plain tuna sandwiches, all the other options involved cheese, it was too early for the pub and too late for the shop.

Morebattle Café

I ate the limited fayre and cracked on pausing briefly at the public conveniences in the village centre before picking up the well known route to Selkirk, skipping the chain bridge at Ormiston for the blat through Eckford to get to Nisbet, I got a surprisingly clear crossing of the A68 and rode through Ancrum admiring the Vintage cars parked up including a Bugatti with the predictable puddle of oil under it.  The long drag carried on through Midlem, and I was relived to finish what I reckoned was the hardest climb of the "first day" as I reached the road on top of Lindean Muir. The plummet to the Ettrick began, other riders had stopped at the petrol station to take on extra fuel but I reckoned I'd be fine to Moffat, 160m of altitude lost in the space for 5km almost half of the slog up from Morebattle.

Riding towards the border

The terrible surface of the Yarrow road jarred my wrists, the advantages of a gentle gradient lost as the bike jarred and jumped it's way upwards.  Some riders caught up with me and suggested I try to join them which I managed for a few minutes, but I got confused with the way they operated the rotation (which was the standard way) and I decided to drop off as I wasn't getting it right. I saw a number of bikes sitting outside the Gordon Arms, I considered stopping to join them but decided instead to carry on to Moffat for tea. However I stopped at the café at St Mary's loch who had just switched to their takeaway service but still allowed us to sit at the tables and eat cake from paper bags.  A biker outside asked if I'd kept dry and I said I had but pointing to the dark clouds at the summit I suggested I wouldn't be for much longer.  I put my rain jacket on before setting off for the final leg of the climb to the Pass of Moffatdale.

The Border

Some VC167 riders had stopped to put on rain gear just before the summit, and I rolled past them preparing for the onset of the soaking from the dark sky in front however the dale was surprisingly dry, a mist hung in the valley hiding the summits, the plunge to the foot of the tail followed by the long "annoying" drag down to Moffat I was preparing for where to eat tea, I failed to find my first choice and I ended up going to the chip shop on the road out of town, a spicy haggis supper to fuel me to Lockerbie Truck Stop, possibly not the best of cycling foods but it was tasty. A quick bike check revealed my Non-Drive Side Crank arm was wobbling in a peculiar manner so I re-tightened it before setting off again.

Bugatti with characteristic pool of oil

With a belly full of finest Scottish grub I set off up the Deil's  Beeftub climb out of Moffat, a good steady climb for 10km at 3%, as I climbed the mist came down, as the mists came down things started to get wet, however it didn't last long and as I dropped past the Crook Inn site of the "Cyclo Rave" during "Ride to the Sun" things had dried up again, Biggar was the next stop and riders were congregated at each shop, one told me that the small newsagents was open but I pointed out the Sainsbury's at the end of the high street, as I rolled through I remembered stopping here for Ice Cream on journeys south when it was still quicker to head directly south than to travel to Glasgow first. Another rider stopped at the shop as I stood eating the juice and sweets I'd purchased which included a Tony's Chocoloney salted caramel bar, one of my favourites when I'm visiting friends in the Netherlands, we briefly discussed the high aggregate content of Scottish road surfaces and the impact of that on hands, then I set out from the climb to Beattock Summit which I had convinced myself is at Abington services...

Traffic Jam D&G Style

Although the main A702 road was quiet I followed the GPS track on the A72 to Symington and A73 from there, the routes looked roughly equidistant, and last time I was up I rode the A702.
At Symington I joined the West Coast Main line as I entered Clydesdale, the bright lights of the services appeared on the horizon before a turn or dip in the road hid them, I was glad I'd soon be on a descent.
At Abington I could see some riders had stopped but I rolled past, soon the descent, but it didn't come, I'd misremembered the road; Beattock Summit not arriving for another 16km and 50m of climbing.  I caught another rider just before the summit and I agreed with Robert that we'd ride together to the Truck Stop, the A702 here hasn't been resurfaced since it was one carriageway of the A74 and probably long before the A74(M) was built to make the number change. I looked for the best surface and found it in the "cycle lane" in the shoulder where less aggregate was set into the tar and so remains smooth despite water run off and traffic wearing down the tar in the main running lane.  As I did this a police car passed us at low speed, curious, and being a long way from anywhere this was particularly unusual.

The pass of Moffatdale

At last the summit came, we left Clydesdale and picked up the Elvan and we picked up speed, hunting out the smoothest line trying to reduce the bar buzz, ahead a bright red light and a torch were to be seen, it was a Polis stop.
The Polis was interested in whether we'd been on the motorway as there had been a reports of cyclists on it, there are a number of spots where you can easily go wrong and also a number of spots where the NMU road that cyclists use could be misidentified as being the motorway.
The polisman was interested in more information about the event and Robert handled that while I re-tightened the crank arm, I eventually determined that I've loosened off the lock nut so while the crank is tightened onto the splines correctly it's able to come slightly loose in it's own mechanisms.

Climbing the Beeftubs

We were wished a good night with the football result and a suggestion we might be a bit far from Colvend for a sleep stop, although I'm a night owl so my estimate of a 4am arrival wasn't of concern to me, Robert was thinking of taking a longer stop at the Truck Stop.
We got there just after 1am, Robbie and Steve had been there half an hour and had decided to take rooms, I chose a plate of beans on toast from the menu and had a decent break.  Two other riders with suspiciously Fife accents were there and were travelling north to Kennoway from somewhere in the middle of England I vaguely recognised them so briefly said hi.

I set off again on the road, things were still dry but it wouldn't be for long, 3 other riders caught up with me at Dumfries Tesco where I got an ATM receipt for the control and we rode towards Colvend together, I noted as we rode out of Dumfries that there's 2 roads that lead to Colvend and that I'd got the wrong one on the way to Dalbeattie 7 Stanes a couple of times, we didn't make that mistake and were soon riding towards the coast.  My usual lack of climbing ability as well as a quick check of the opening time of the Dalbeattie co-op meant the other 3 arrived just ahead of me; I wasn't hungry so opted to head straight for my drop bag for fresh dry kit to sleep in and asked for a 6am wake up call allowing for over an hour and a half of sleep.

Beeftubs Plateau

I got a rough sleep and was standing next to my airbed setting my jersey up when the wake up call arrived.  I had another plate of beans on toast along with cake before setting out into the now heavy rain. I forced myself out the door and onto the bike, setting off back for Dalbeatie where the route would diverge for a lap of the Glen Kens.  Neil and Michael had stayed near Dumfries and caught up shortly after leaving and we rode together for a short while, the weather dried out, Neil and Michael carried on at their speed and not long after I took the Palnackie road Dave C caught up in their place.
We rode up towards Castle Douglas and back into the rain, I've never been there in the dry, I must try it sometime.
Dave wasn't too sure of which side of Loch Ken we would be passing, I hadn't realized that there is a deserted A road on either side so wasn't sure either, as it turns out we only rode beside the top of the loch near New Galloway as we'd gone the other side towards Laurieston.

Leaving Colvend

A slight navigational error at Dalry which lengthened the climb (which I think was preferable to the sharp climb on a narrow road) and we were soon climbing a bleak drizzle swept muir that went on it seemed forever.  Finally we approached some trees by Kendoon Loch where the Carsphairn road nestles, a short rest at the junction was followed by a short descent, glad at last to rest the legs and hide from the drizzle a bit in the trees but not long after that it was back out onto the muir again, I hit a wet cattle grid at speed and felt the bike slither as I hadn't hit it square.  I told Dave about me looking for a camping spot out here while LeJogging and the lack of suitable spots, and he told me about his hammock based solution to that problem.

It was wet up at Kendoon

We passed through Moniavie, an oddity as the second syllable is stressed rather than the first making it Mony-AYVIE. I stopped hear for tea after making the mistake of taking this road over to Ardrossan and discovering nothing open at 3pm. I eventually staggered into the Craigdarroch Arms hotel parking my touring bike next to a massive Honda GoldWing and my self next to its rider and tucked into a massive plate of steak and mash as a band talked and sang in a mockney accent somewhere else in the pub.  You can read about that trip in another post
https://nefifemtb.blogspot.com/2015/05/outer-fife-penzance-to-thurso-via-lands.html
(Although note I misidentified the pub, George was the barman):

We chose not to stop at the shop to top up as we had enough to get us down the hill to Dumfries, the rain was easing as we descended and in Dumfries it was almost pleasant, we spied a McDonald's which had a number of bikes parked outside and added our dripping kit to the cleaners frustrations.
After this staple lunch we carried on through the town centre as things started to clear up, a long steady climb out of town brought us to overheating point as our wet kit and rain jackets started to become liabilities and after a short period of descending when the skies showed there would be no more rain we stopped for 5 minutes to adjust kit.  We rolled into Annan needing a top up and stopped at a chip shop/café for cake and juice before carrying onto Longtown.

Not the cattle grid I got a fright on.

At Longtown we managed to miss the decent looking café who having just got rid of the previous cycling customers were closing up, leaving us with only a pub that served distinctly average food.
Many other riders passed as we suffered from slow service both in delivery of the food and in provision of the bills.
The next section was the Hadrians Wall road across the roof of England, and Dave having coped with my slower flatland pace started to struggle to cope with my glacial scaling of walls.
In my mind this road was a series of gentle climbs so I hadn't really prepared for the reality that soon hit me as steep walls appeared in front of me and all I could do was grind up them; eventually I told Dave to crack on, he's too polite to leave you but it got to the point where our riding was so different we couldn't ride together.  I caught him at the top of Greenhead where he'd stopped to make a phone call and again at the Sycamore gap where he was taking a photo, he shot past me at a rate of knots shortly after that and I didn't see him again until the finish.

Heathersgill it's a long way up from here

The road was destroying me mentally, the sharp climbs and grinding out with all I had left was not great and I couldn't really see how much more of it was to come.  However not long after Twice Brewed the wind started gusting strongly behind me and I felt a good shove along the road at nearly 60kmh on the flat not to mention the helping up the hills and then there was the rapid descents touching 70kmh.  On the last final sharp dig two impatient drivers caught up with me and somehow thought hitting their horns would somehow help; then on the descent where I must admit I was going for it and my line must have been looking pretty ragged as I dodged the rough surfaces two more drivers thought it wise to hit their horns.

The descent off the Wall was rapid and I was soon at a junction I recognized from Merse and Muirs again, there was one last hill to climb, although we had been advised of an avoidance route I didn't have it on me though I wished I had as I can see riders that used this got back much sooner than they would have if they went over this hill.  The road climbed, and steepened, climbed more and steepened even more, Eventually I was grinding my way up a 20% ramp thankfully near to the summit and the pedalling got easier as I entered an exposed plateau, I pedalled gently along recovering from the climb and saw that with the time on the clock and knowledge that it was down hill all the way from here I could still be back in under 38 hours.

Sycamore Gap

It was the red rag I needed, I set about making the descent as fast as possible, .I hurtled down the hill knowing it was 16km from the finish from the top, at the bottom things eased off to but I saw a sign telling me it was 6 miles to Ponteland, the same distance as it is from Hazleton Walls to home, what's more the profile was similar, starting with a lumpy plateau before descending directly though without the interlude of the Gutchers plunge.  I pushed myself as I do on that route regardless of distance ridden.  A deserted country road, no sign of others ahead or behind just me, I can't be last can I? I know I'm not as I passed a group of VC167 riders, a yardstick of how you're getting on in these parts at Greenhead, but then they're locals they might know the flatcuts!?

I rolled into Ponteland almost struggling to stop at the bottom of the path to the hall, Andy was waiting to welcome me in as I pushed the bike up the path,  I took the bike into the hall and Steve was welcoming me back too; straight off I wanted to know when he and Robbie had got back!  They had only been back 20 minutes and Dave was only about 10 minutes. Robbie started telling me about the wind on the descent from Twice Brewed to dodge the hills to the finish as I tucked into my 3rd plate of Beans on Toast of the "day", food I was well fed up of!

Second Sunset

I had entered the North Coast Classic 600 after seeing photos from Hellfire Corner, but as you may tell from the lateness of this blog post that the scratchy throat turned into a cold, the cold kept me off work and in bed and I realized I'd need to DNS.
A disappointment as the Far North is stunning, and almost every time I've planned something up there something's gone wrong;
On LeJog I was bustituted so I didn't get the journey on the Far North Line; another trip planned I didn't make it out my bed on the day of travel because I was struck down by a heavy cold.
Another and strong winds made things interesting.
Although I suppose the Ben Klibreck ride was a success despite having to use ice spikes.