Fifeing Eejit: Argyll Alps - 200

As an antidote to the flatness of Lincolnshire I had entered a hilly ride on the Cowl Peninsula with added time pressure of there being two 20 minute ferry journeys involved in the route, Hall accommodation was available to I travelled down to Gourock on the train after work on the Friday.

I'd prepared the Focus for this by removing all the excess weight, using a light pair of wheels with a spoke count that sees my weight troubling the recommendations and leaving only the top tube bag and the frame bag, the first to carry money and battery pack, the second to carry High5 powder, sun cream and electrolyte tablets with my usual jersey pocket set up of Food, Rain Jacket and Camera on my back. I could already feel the difference from the Genesis in long distance set up as I zipped over the Tay Bridge to catch my train.

Hall before the start

When I got to the hall a number of the Borders riders were staying over, as was a rider who had reversed my journey of the previous weekend by coming up from Lincolnshire and a Highland rider, the other Highlanders perhaps proving to be a bit soft having booked into a hotel.
Despite the hard floor surface, sleeping mat and makeshift pillow I got a decent sleep and woke up raring to go and sat eating breakfast with bleary eyed riders around me, the number of riders in the hall slowly increased until there was around 45 riders ready to take the start at 0715. The earlier time as chosen to allow us to catch the first ferry of the day at 0730.

All aboard for Cowl

Robert gave a briefing before setting us off and I was soon leading a group through down town Gourock towards the Western Ferry pier at McInroy's point. I felt good, setting what I consider to be a good pace for me on flat ground at 30kmh. Rather than bump up onto the pavement to get to the pedestrian gate I took the long way round and pulled a large group of cyclists into the HGV bay of the ferry line up as the ferry arrived on it's first trip of the day from Cowl. We were soon loaded on and sailing over the Firth of Clyde.

Bound for Ardentinny

We disembarked the ferry and I wasn't for hanging around here either, I managed to get myself on the 2nd row of the group on leaving Hunters Quay and sat there as we flew along the banks of the Holy Loch still holding around 30kmh towards Sandbank, no CalMac ferries were in reserve at the Marina and we were forced to stop at the junction with the main road from Dunoon as a solitary car was crossing out path. At Cothouse we stuck to the coast and turned back down the other side of the Holy Loch which turned us back into the wind but didn't affect our speed, as we rode through Kilmun the ferry that berths there overnight was getting underway to join the service.

The road undulated gently in places as we continued our unrelenting hurtle towards Ardentinny where we had to get the name of a house with a well placed nameplate that meant we didn't need to stop. I knew what was coming, the road climbed gently and then the 20% sign appeared at the side of the road, a very advance warning of what was coming, some riders rode round me, the gradient increased, more riders passed and soon they were strung out ahead of me on the hill and I was near the back of the pack.

More riders passed and soon they were strung out ahead of me on the hill and I was near the back of the pack.

Having ridden the hill before I found I had a decent memory of it, knowing what was coming and where it was hard, I set a pace and ground it out, around me riders got off to walk, another waited for his riding partner to catch up, I stayed in the saddle and kept going. I summited and started the descent, the same riders climbed with descended around me, some faster, some slower, but we soon found ourselves in a small group as we rode along the shore of Loch Eck and into Strachur and along Loch Fyne.

Along Loch Fyne

Although it's not flat we were able to hold a good pace along Loch Fyne on a gentle climb, one of the riders had packed on the North Coast 600 due to injury and I started chatting to her after enquiring about recovery. I was waiting for the junction at the "Tinkers Heart" that would signal the start of the next hill proper although it started on the Loch Fyne road at St Catherines, the zig zagging climb of the B839 is the tough part, 110m of it in 2km, and then a plunge, down into Hell.
Or at least Hell's Glen, actually a miss-identification, Gleann Beag being the map name the other Gaelic name is Glen Iarainn, meaning The Iron Glen. Hell's Glen actually refers to Glen Ifhrinn elsewhere in the vicinity.

Hell's Glen... Ish

The descent of Hell's glen is steep and tricky, zig-zagging through woodland on a narrow single track road, in the small group the riders that rode ahead of me did not surprise with Bob in the lead.
The gradient eased and the pace dropped, the heat in the woods was uncomfortable for me and I knew what was to come, over a bridge and a signpost pointed the way to Lochgoilhead, no post pointed the way to the Rest.

Gleann Mor is the map name, the more famous name is "The Rest and Be Thankful" though this should only apply to the car park at the summit it is generally given to the A83 climb and the "old military road" once a Sprint Hillclimb track where locals such as a young Jackie Stewart and established international aces once demonstrated their craft, that climb is more correctly Glen Croe.

Again I knew what was coming as I set up Gleann Mor, the heat felt oppressive until a gap in the trees gave me a blast of the cooling wind before the trees enveloped and sheltered me again, I had set off at a decent pace for me but the gradient on this climb increases as you gain height, mostly imperceptibly until the road lurches to the right then left while ramping up to 13% before starting to ease back off at a similar rate to the increase to summit with fantastic views down Glen Croe. The new A83 high on he slopes of Ben Arthur and the old down in the base of the Glen, with the hillside mobile regular works are needed to keep the A83 safe and the old road has been resurfaced for emergency use in the event of a landslide.

Glen Croe, the "new" A83 high on the slopes of Ben Arthur and the old road down in the base of the Glen, with the hillside effectively mobile regular works are needed to keep the A83 safe and the old road has been resurfaced for emergency use in the event of a landslide.

The road descends to the car park at the Glen Croe Summit, but Robert and Mick had set up the control in a lay-by at the Bealach an Easain Duibh the pass that links Glen Finglass to Glen Croe and the start of the descent, a car boot full of water, bananas and flapjacks. Perfect.

I took a bit longer than the rest of the small group to set off, I had a second flapjack stuffed in my face and I wasn't risking dropping it. I set off in pursuit and caught then at the corner where the Bealach turns into the Glen, my speed relented slightly as I knew there was a junction coming, it came faster than one of the riders expected and all I could manage was a "Ho Left!" to warn him as I swung from the deceleration lane into the new road. We were back on Loch Fyne and heading West, a small lump over to the Tinkers Heart junction split what was left of the group and I got into matching pace with Anne, I said I was wanting to stop at the Café at Strachur as I reckoned I'd be hungry before the next control.

This was another section where a good pace could be held, and after a climb in the woods we rolled at good speed into Strachur, no one had stopped at the pub, no one had stopped at the shop, no one had stopped at the Bistro, but where's the Café we were soon out of town. (The bistro is the Café). The road started to climb at a reasonable gradient and I dropped Anne, I dropped my pace when I realized it was too long to go as hard as I was but I was on my own for now. I was now heading for the Clachan of Glendarule where Robert and Mick would be with what was left of the water, bananas and Flapjacks. I don't remember them passing so I don't know how they got there ahead of all the riders. But first there was a good long descent to rest on, I was going to need this.

As I pulled up at the control a rumble sounded above, "That's no thunder is it?", "Nah it's a plane, I've never heard thunder with a turbo fan whine". Anne and a couple of other riders caught up again as the rain caused the control to be adjusted. Deckchairs launched behind the flapjacks and everyone huddled under the tailgate waiting for a downpour but the rain stopped as quickly as it started. Now it was time for the climb we'd all been waiting for.

Approaching the toughest section of the Ballochindrain Climb

The OS can't make their mind up what this is called; in some records it's the Bealach Maim, in others it's got the name of the farm Ballochindrain which is what the locals call the climb. But just to be annoying someone has when producing the newer 1:25 mapping has named the farm Bealachandrain. What ever the name this climb is a beast, I descended it once hanging onto my brake levers the pads stinking as I tried to avoid clipping either the grass in the middle of the road or going into the fence.

The hardest section gets two arrows on the map. I hauled myself up there matching pace with the others, but I chose to stop, a view I wanted to photograph and a respite I needed, it was only a few seconds but the others were out of sight.

Top of the Beallach Maim

I carried on up the hill, in places the grass was growing from the centre lien, the gradient no longer so viscous allowing better progress, the sky rumbled, the atmosphere was fitting for this tough climb, at times I was pointing the right direction for the rumble to be accompanied seconds previously by a flash in the sky out to the west.
I didn't count the seconds, I only cared that I was away from the lightning and making progress, I recognized the top, it plateaus in the Scottish sense, it's not flat, it's not hilly but the road winds it's way through the land at the top of the hill taking the easiest line rather than the straightest and flattest, and then it was time to descend.

I remembered this side was also a tough climb, not as tough as what I had just done but enough to make me wary of not over doing the descent. At the junction near Otter Ferry the riders I'd lost due to my stop were standing reading the sign for an info control, it seemed to be getting wet so I carried on to shelter and wrote down the answer losing the other riders as I did so.

I was rolling along nicely now, a bit of a climb and a descent, as I passed the junction at Millhouse and spied a café which was just what I needed, I found the faster of the Highland riders finishing off a decent sized lunch, unfortunately I was concerned about time so after my first choice from the "Light Bites" section turned out to have run out I opted for the "Cheesy Beans on Toast" from the children's menu with one critical alteration along with cake and coke. The rest of the cheese free options on the menu sounded fantastic but I didn't think I had the time.

Another info control was needed to make sure we didn't cut straight over to Tighnabruich taking us down to Ardlamont before making our way up the coast to Kames, where I decided I wanted an Ice Cream... I sat on the bench outside the shop eating a Magnum as a light rain shower passed over and thought back to the day of the Glasgow Commonwealth Games Men's Road Race when I stood eating ice cream in a heavy cloud burst.
Bob and Tracy had made it to Kames and along with some others were eyeing up the Little Kitchen's menu when I passed and then it was down into Tighnabruich, I just zipped through preparing for the Bealach a Chaisteil, as I climbed it I spotted a view of the Kyles of Bute through the trees I told myself I have this photo already and ignored it, the road climbs over a large rock that prevents a coastal route suitable for motor vehicles however the Cowal Way runs along the base of the rock, however the views from the rock are fantastic and as I reached the second view point by resolve to ignore it and keep going was beaten, it is a fantastic view over Loch Riddon and the Kyles of Bute.

Loch Riddon and the Kyles of Bute

A family on a road trip had stopped and were taking in the view, one of the riders I'd been riding with on and off was also taking in the view and exclaimed how amazing it was.
The road plunges off Creagan Dubh and almost takes you back to Clachan of Glendaruel, but the route turned to the right along Loch Riddon passing the junction with the Dunoon road before climbing up and over a small hill to Colintraive on the Kyles of Bute where the rider I'd met at the view point mentioned the uncomfortable reality of riding to a ferry port just to turn around and return back the way they'd come; it was a necessary pain for the distance of course!

Riders on the return as I head for Colintraive

I faffed through screens on my Wahoo as I set off back over the hill to the Dunoon junction and realized the screen was frozen, not wanting to stop but also unsure of the status of it I powered it down and hoped for the best on power up, the recovery process took around five minutes as I climbed the hill and I stopped at the summit to make it easier for me to recover the section from my backup device, if I hasn't entered Mileater I think I might have accepted the missing 2km.

Riders on the return as I head for Colintraive

As I descended I saw a woman standing next to her car with hands clasped to her face having clearly had a fright, I stopped and asked if she was ok. Fears of the worst were allayed as she revealed she'd just had a blow out and right enough her front left tyre was flat, unfortunately she had no spare, a tin of tyre weld, no breakdown cover and no idea who she could phone. I waited with her while she calmed down and worked out what to do, eventually phoning a friend and trying to explain her location to him, so he could assist.

Tarsan Dam (The one with the outlet)

Carrying on I knew there was only two climbs to go, the first a moderate climb over muirland to Loch Striven, the second similar in gradient but much more impressive with the climb to Loch Tarsan the reservoir with two dams, one that drains to Loch Striven and the other which holds the water back from flooding Glen Lean, along with many aqueducts to collect water from the burns on the hillsides.
I remembered the descent as being a fast descent on rough single track roads, a bit of a challenge however new tar had been laid and it was a thoroughly enjoyable plunge back to the Holy Loch from where it would be flat all the way back.

I was starting to feel peckish and decided that if I passed a shop I would stop and get something for the ferry which I reckoned would be at 1845 giving plenty of time to get there, At the junction in Sandbank the shop was still open so I stopped to collect a drink and sweets. Skimming along by the loch some kids were waving and cheering from a garden, I turned the corner and there was the "Sound of Seil" moving slowly away from the pier; balls. The service pattern had returned to 3 and hour so were every 20 minutes, something I should have realized when I saw the ferry tied up at Kilmun.

Missed the boat

I put the bike against the waiting shelter and while digging my sweets out my bag dropped half the packet on the floor. Typical! The rain came on heavy all of a sudden, I brought the bike into the shelter and mulled over the ride; I'd ridden much better than expected on the hills, maybe I could have put a little more in but I was going to get the ferry a whole hour earlier than I had allowed for, the fast rolling sections had definitely helped with that.

Sound of Soay at Gourock

The rain stopped, and soon after Sound of Soay arrived at the link-span and a local held the gate for me as I wheeled the bike on, I was all set to stand out on deck as we sailed but another heavy rain shower sent me scuttling to cover. We landed at McInroy's point and I set off for the last 3km through Gourock, the roads were soaking with the spray wetting my back, an unpleasant feeling after staying dry all day. Arriving back at the hall Robert and his family were serving soup and sandwiches; two riders had passed me when I was in the shop and had made the 1840 ferry with seconds to spare.

I had planned the ride based on being full value, but was in the end comfortable, this also meant I'd booked a nights accommodation along in Greenock as I thought I'd struggle to make the last train home but as it turned out I spent the evening photographing a stunning cloudy sunset before spending most of the day waiting in Queen Street station thanks to grabbing the last Advance ticket available!