Double Header 01 and 02 November 2019

I'd had the idea to ride the Border Hills permanent last year however due to one of my many incidents of doing something stupid on AukWeb I thought I hadn't entered in time for the organizer to get a card out to me and rode a DIY instead.  I suggested to Robbie that we could double header the first weekend of November when we would be down in Galashiels for the Long Dark Teatime of an Audax soul and told him I had a card for the Border Hills so we agreed on that.

As the weekend approached Robbie got a rather unwelcome and poorly timed call to travel out into the North Sea for work but Steve, Alan and Russell had confirmed they would be riding so I wasn't going to be slogging through the hills on my own in the dark.

The Long Dark Teatime of an Audax Soul

Last year this ride was a wash out, the forecast of heavy rain all day saw only a handful of cards lifted from the table at the start.  This year however despite a forecast for early drizzle was set to be a good bright autumn day.

Early rain on the climb out of Selkirk

I set out with Craig following Aidan and Dick on the tandem trike towards the A7 a few of the other riders vocalizing their confusion at our route were reminded that we were dodging an early hill allowing much faster progress to Selkirk, it started to drizzle and not long after everyone else had stopped to put their rain jackets on, no sooner had the thought that I was "first on the road" than the fast lads who had taken the hill road passed me, Richard offering a cheery "good morning" as he went by. I was slightly surprized that Craig was still riding with me at this point as he's usually much faster but he told me he was slow to warm up; I'm just slow all day particularly today as I needed to keep something in reserve for Sunday's harder route.

Soon I was going backwards through the field as stronger riders who'd taken the hill road or took time to get going passed, Craig was off in the distance after I reminded him of a routing error in the rain the previous year and Ross caught me somewhere on the climb by the Tima.

Never leave home without gorilla tape on your trusty Audax pen

I decided I could hold his pace and spent most of the climb talking to him, as we entered the woods not too far from the summit we spied the tandem trike with Dick holding the offside wheel in the air as Aidan swore at it; this was their second puncture so far, the first to the nearside rear was due to rim tape problems and this was no different, if only someone had some sort of tape.
I fertled in my saddle bag thinking I might have left a roll in there but no, then I realized there was electrical and gorilla tape on my trusty Audax pen hopefully enough to do the job.


With the rim taped hopefully well enough to carry on Ross, Joseph (who had arrived shortly after we stopped) and I cracked on, as taller riders we all have an inevitable weight penalty on climbs but one place a tall rider can really take advantage is when gravity is on their side.  Ross declared that he isn't that good a descender just as we crested the summit and Joseph and I were soon flying down the hill towards Eskdalemuir with Ross dropping back as we relished the high speed pot hole dodging.  I was missing the French concept of a deformed road.

At Eskdalemuir Hub the rugby was on the telly as we tucked into items from the Audax specials menu.  England were losing to South Africa, as I finished off my Link Sausage Roll the Springboks scored a try in the dying seconds to seal their victory.
I could blame having both English and South African relatives as a reason for not being sure who I wanted to win the least, but in reality it was indifference.
I've just realized Lorne isn't on the menu, what's that about?

Aidan and Dick didn't appear while we were there, I wondered if they'd turned back defeated by the rim tape problems.  Joseph set off from the café first, Ross and I following not too long after and a slight hiccough in Joseph's gear shifting on a hill had us regrouped with Sarah K joining us as the surface deteriorated, I made a bad joke about D&G being the home of the Pneumatic tyre and Sarah disappeared off up the road. The four of us swapped places due to various stops on the road through Langholm and onto the A7 towards Longtown.

One for the pot

I rode with Joseph and talked about PBP and then we started to spot Road Kill; I only have a vauge idea of how to identify what's suitable for the pot and with a limited sense of smell not overly keen on risking it; Joseph however I well versed in identifying next week's lunches while on the road, he was even carrying Pheasant sandwiches.

Eventually Joseph spotted a Pheasant that he wasn't going to just put to the side and collect later, it was hardly damaged from it's fatal interaction with road traffic, had no evidence of other birds or animals investigating it and overall looked pretty fresh.


It now hung from his Carradice adding to the classic look of his bike and bag set up. We crested the hill and knew it was mostly marginally downhill all the way to Longtown, Joseph picked up the pace, stayed on and he took the first turn of an all out 2-up blast. The Pheasants head was swinging from the bag in front of me as I was sucked along at a speed I've not done since I last rode in a group of 6 or more. Time to Swap and it's my turn to hammer myself, Joseph's to rest, Swap back and repeat.  As we swooped past Ross I suggested he try to tag on, 3 would make for a longer rest between turns but he couldn't quite make it and for the next 7km we carried on hammering along until the traffic lights at Longtown stopped the fun for a bit but we picked it up again on the straight and gentle climb to the garden centre my ability to hang on failing just as we reached the car park, and a twinge in the back of my right knee to worry about.

Luxury Bus Shelter with a collection
of bikes that scream Audax

We wheeled the bikes round the back of the Garden Centre where they were visible from the Café, a rag tag collection of bikes that screamed Audax was already lent against the "luxury bus shelters" in the shed department and a long queue stood waiting service.  I quickly realized it would be time for cake and juice and no more.  Joseph bought some cake and retreated to one of the sheds to eat it and his sandwiches.
Aidan and Dick arrived, they'd had puncture number three and gone to find help in the form of the Over Dalgleish Caretaker who was able to get the spoke holes taped over.

We set off again and the slight descent to Longtown as usual felt shorter than the slight climb to the Garden centre, it's over 2km out of town but looking down the road to town you can see the buildings getting bigger.
I had to stop in Longtown at the garage for some water as I'd forgotten to top up at the café and I was on my own.

The back of my knee was hurting, I'm not sure if my saddle is still marginally too high or if it's some other problem. I started to struggle up the hills, they seemed harder than I thought they should.  I dread the hill between Bentpath and Eskdalemuir, it's by far the hardest part of this route hitting 7% in places, the rest is a good steady ~3%er but critically on these days you know Tea is just over that hill. A regrouping with Steve, Alan, Joseph, Ross and I in the Café together and with Beef Stew and Apple Pie for High Tea, it's not dark yet but the sun is setting.  We all left when we were ready and I set off on the climb alone as darkness was coming.

Mists of the Tima Water

I think I summited in the last of the light, or is that a memory from the previous year it's all run together? Anyway that was the hard work done it's mostly downhill from there; I set off down the hill, the mists were hanging over the Tima Water I couldn't not stop for the photo.

The road levelled out past the Angecroft caravan park, and I remembered riding through the river the previous year, no such problem now.

I rode over the bridge at Ettrick, there's a slight rise, I droped a gear or two and CLUNK.

It's pitch dark and my chain's jammed, I hopped off the bike to investigate, as I pushed the bike to the road side a pinging noise came from the back wheel. I assumed the worst, a spoke had finally gone on my so far faultless Spa wheel.  I pointed my head torch at the spokes and scanned around. All good. hm.  I checked the chain, it looked fine oddly. I checked the rear derailleur and it looked fine too... Then I spotted the end of the cable was in the spokes; I checked the derailleur again, and I was convinced it looked fine.  I bent the cable out the way and checked he shifting, I was missing the 4 easiest gears but other than that it seemed to be fine. Ross caught up as I checked the bike over and rode with him from there.

A car rolled up beside us, "erm do you know where the Angecroft Park is, all we have is 'Ettrick Valley, Selkirk' and no phone signal", I told them, "turn round, follow this road over the bridge and it's on the right somewhere up there, if you reach the top of the hill you've gone to far, turn round and you'll see it on the left." It really is out in the middle of nowhere!

We carried on again and Ross remarked about the contrast between that interaction and what he's used to being hollered from the back of cars. I was being very careful with my gear shifts, Joseph had stopped with a small group of riders who were still on their way back on the 100km ride, clearly not "Back in time for Tea" as it's title suggested.

CRUNCH. PING PING PING
My chain jammed on another shift just before Ettrickbridge with 22km to go. I turned the bike back upside down, I checked the mech, it looked ok, I checked the shifting... no shifting, but the cable was taut, hrm. I decided it was too dark to see properly, it's in the 50-13 so I decide it'll ride.

I hopped back on and ground the bike back up to speed, through the village and onto the Bowhill road, I discovered it's not as flat as it feels almost falling over as I ran out of strength to turn the wheels on a slight rise. Thankfully it's downhill into Selkirk and along the cycle path beside the A7, Joseph disappeared into the distance after Selkirk and Ross left me to ride the final hill into Gala alone.  I got to the Focus centre and wheeled the bike inside, it was in 50-11.

I handed Lucy my card and told Russell, Steve and Alan about the Derailleur issue and that I didn't know if I'd be able to ride the Border Hills.
With the bike upside down in the light I took one look at the cable I'd previously felt was taut, and gave a pull on it while spinning the pedals, everything worked correctly.  Then I hauled on the end of the cable and found it slid through the clamp bolt, I fixed it and went back and told them we were on for the Border Hills, collected my validated card, poster, medal, sales money from the cycle jumble and sat down with a nice bowl of soup for Supper.

Border Hills

The rain battered past the window of my B&B's breakfast room as I sat eating a "light" breakfast of Sausage and Eggs, the forecast was again for a wet morning drying out as the day went on so I was slightly optimistic things were going to improve.
It was still raining lightly as I drove up to Innerleithen to meet Steve, Alan, Russell and possibly Davie for a group ride of the Border Hills Permanent, a pretty loop of the major undulations of the central Borders and the rain stopped in time for me to dig the bike out of the car.

Steve and I were using paper proof of passage so rode up to the Co-Op where Davie said he'd be waiting if he was going to ride.  We got proof of passage from the ATM while Russell checked to see if Davie was riding (he wasn't) and started their GPS devices for the less onerous proof method.

We relied on Russell being local for navigation rather than bother with the GPS route, taking the old railway through Cardrona to Peebles and then on through to Biggar via Broughton on a road I knew from "Broughton and back". The rain was falling again but I was convinced it would stop, light sky seemed to be ahead so I kept the rain jacket off, I'll dry out later I proclaimed!

I had to ask Russell about the pronunciation of Broughton, it could be Bro'ton, Browton, Bruchtun or even Brufton.  Just like Broughty Ferry in Dundee the stop has won though oddly in Dundee the Dighty Burn is still like Dichty and I'm sure I've heard Browton for the road in Edinburgh.
We were maintaining a good pace for a second day, I was flagging on the steeper hills though I had still managed 20kmh to Biggar where it was breakfast time for Steve and Alan, as a night in the van had them well up for a full veggie breakfast.

I put my rain jacket back on and we left Biggar with our average down near the minimum and we looped back through the hills behind Biggar to the Devil's Beeftub climb; Russell told me about his "More Passes than Mastermind" event of old and how riders cottoned on to a long cut that dodged one of the harder hills.  Steve spotted the wall of Talla and pointed it out while jokingly suggested we detour, I suggested we didn't!
By the Crook Inn I was off the back a bit, I remembered the cycle-rave from the Ride to the Sun a free ride from Carlisle to Crammond on the weekend nearest the longest day.

By the top I was well back and Russell had been doing laps of the summit plateau waiting for me so he could get a picture while the others had stopped at the top of the descent, we regrouped there and rode down into Moffat for lunch at the Rumblin Tum.

The next section I reckoned would be the hardest, essentially the middle tough part of Moffat Toffee in reverse through Fingland, over to Boreland and then onto Langholm, each summit we regrouped and descended together until the last one where the lure of the shop must have been too much for them, or perhaps it was just the rain was back on.

We were now riding the road of the previous day's return in Eskdale, the climb by Bentpath and then the viciously sharp lump that gives a descent into Eskdalemuir seemed easier than the previous day but I had the others to pace myself from and judge my progress, it appears I was faster too.
I mentioned to Russell that it was going to feel weird not stopping at the Hub in Eskdalemuir having always stopped there; and he told me about how before the hub opened the Samye Ling Buddhist centre was the control here but this could often mean arriving with many visitors or course attendees which wasn't an ideal mix.

Darkness arrived as we climbed and I made a mess of the top cattle grid, normally I pick up speed before the grid, go light and aim for the plates but today I didn't have the energy for that and had to keep pedalling, the bike squirmed significantly with each pedal stroke and I vocalized my fright.  Safely over and it's a long descent down to the Tushielaw for the second last climb of the day on the Berrybush. I was dropped significantly but again the summit was a place of rest for the others, unlike last time I was up here McNasty had heard a bird trilling like a telephone in the woods which was much to Dicks amusement when asked if he'd heard it when we congregated at the next café in Lilliesleaf. 

The Gordon Arms was busy as we crossed the junction, I suggested to Russell we should have started there and had breakfast and finished with tea, but he didn't think climbing Mountbenger loaded up with a full Scottish was necessarily a good idea!  We stayed together on this initially short sharp climb before it eased off to a steady 3%, at the top a car driver crossing the pass blinded me with their headlights by failing to dip them. I had to stop and put a foot down to avoid wobbling into their path and I had to do it again on the Paddy Slacks descent which was otherwise an delightful finish to the ride, swooping down the hillside and onto the back road in to Innerleithen.
Russell and Alan pulled into the car park while Steve and I headed on for a receipt as final proof of riding the route.
A tough second day in the rain but rather enjoyable too.