I got a 400 in!

I've still not been able to get physio and there's still niggling problems to get dealt with, though this is now largely due to lethargy rather than service availability, getting stuck in a cycle of working, sleeping and training results in me constantly not getting round to speaking to doctor and physiotherapist. It's really not clever.

However I took the risk of riding a 400 a couple of weekends ago, my longest ride since January had till then been a 130km ride on my touring bike as a replacement for a western isles tour with Robbie that had to be cancelled due to the extended lockdown of Aberdeen.  I finished that feeling like I'd done too much but only after adding a silly bit of off-roading in Allean forest and a ride home.

I designed the route with plenty of bail out options by making it based around both the house and the caravan on Loch Tummel.  As is normally the case an early start meant poor sleep so I hauled myself out of bed at 4am and shovelled a large bowl of cereal into me, after my erm mishap with the lactose free milk on Alston and Back last year I've come to the conclusion that I have a problem with Dairy in general, so after trying various milk substitute juice have settled on Oat milk, it has a decent amount of calcium in it compared to the others which is one of the risks of removing dairy from your diet, and most importantly it generally seems to help.

Out the door just after half 4 and I was out onto the main road, the A92 deserted of all but farmers out in their pickups for the few days of the hairst before remaining crop would be destroyed by the first frosts, they've really struggled to get staff this year and many locals who thought they'd like to have a bash lasted only a few days, this was noticeable due to the late arrival of Bulgarian shoppers in the village store.

A92 by night

A cold mist hung along the hillside, this road always feels like it's in a valley but it's really a series of hill passes climbing to gaps at Rathillet and Parbroath before finally flattening onto the Howe of Fife the big hollow that runs from Cupar to Falkland, the other meaning of Howe is Low, but this Howe sits at the same height as the pass at Rathillet; in anycase for now I was turning off at Parbroath for Newburgh.

Lindores passed in the mist, and through Newburgh I was followed by the exuberant commentary of someone who really should have finished drinking by half 5 in the morning, escaping town for the Earnside flat lands and my usual route to Auchterarder.  My sense of smell was making a rare appearance in fully working mode and I could smell the freshly baked crossaints and pain au chocolat as I approached the co-op drooling over the thought of Breakfast 2.  I was disappointed, while I stared at the empty bakery shelves and sniffed the bakeryless air I thought I was too early.

A basic Co-Op breakfast was scoffed by the bike shed before I set off and as soon as I was on the main drag heading back to the junction I could smell the fresh baked goods again, I looked more carefully and spotted a fully stocked bakery next door to the co-op.  Note to self...

Highlandman Loan

I had decided to bag Heelanman loan, so rather than head up by Fowlis into Glen Almond at Buchanty I carried on the road to Creiff and took a right onto the old drove road, this is the "proper" route into the highlands from here, in the footsteps of thousands of cattle munching their way south to the Tryst at Larbert and the return lone steps of the drovers and dogs.

It was barely past 9 when I reached the A85 and it's not far down to Gilmerton where the climb up the braes of Monȝie, with the Highlands to my left and the lowlands to my right I puffed upwards and thought to myself how long it had been since I was last here (I've only climbed this way once before), the golf course told me it was open while a sign told me it would be 6km to the Sma' Glen.  6km to the Highlands.

The Highlands keeking out of the trees

The Glen Almond junction passed, the trees closed in hiding the River, the last act of lowland roads is a short ramp down through these trees, ahead at the end of the trees a keek at a wall of heather growing larger as the end approaches, and then as the trees pass the highlands open out, the steep heather and rock sided valley of the Sma Glen towers around, in the clear morning light it looked fantastic.

At Amulree I confirmed the lack of the tea room (closed it seems due to some form of business irregularity) and that the hotel is still half rebuilt, Glen Cochil was however ignored in favour of the long descent of Strath Braan to the Pass of Birnham where it's the Tay's turn to cross the boundary. I decided it was time for Lunch 1 and got a Pain Au Chocolat and Croissant with Coca...

In the Sma Glen

The route from Dunkeld to Logierate has been much improved since I first rode it, back then P&K Council thought making you ride on sand was a good idea! It is now a fast rolling tar path shared with walkers and fishermen driving to the beat. But it's emergence to cross the Tay at the bridge remains ugly, I only hope the plans for the A9 can improve this as a complete remodelling is required to get a 2nd bridge and carriageway in place.

I was still failing to make head and tail of Inchmagrannachan's name when the Logierait bridge appeared to my right, this former railway bridge is now open to the public for use, for motor vehicles it provides a modest shortening but for a cyclist the 10km cut off and saving the need to ride a tourist season busy road is worthwhile.  The Dunfalandy road and Pitlochry I guess needs no introduction but the Tummel road may, just out of Pitlochry the Garry is crossed on a modern bridge over a deep gorge, not far north of here Bonnie Dundee's troops gave the Hannovarians a hiding though at the cost of Dundee's life, a Hannovarian trooper it is claimed ran for his life and escaped by launching himself to the other side of the gorge. 

The Tummel road starts by following the hillside before entering Glen Fincastle which it promptly exists and crosses another hillside to enter high above the Loch in Strath Tummel, despite the loch level having been risen as part of the "Tummel Valley" Hydro Scheme that dominates the area (just kidding Schiehallion dominates the area, the hydro scheme defines the roads!) it was clearly never at risk of flooding as it's so high up even the current loch level that Queen Alexandrias view of Schiehallion is roadside and 80m above the loch based on the OS survey.  The climb to Queens view is a real sting in the tail and there's no passing place either, thankfully the parents caravan isn't far and I rolled onto the decking for lunch with a view after 140km and 6hrs 55m.

Lunch with a view

Lunch 2 was a quick ready meal pasta that I didn't double check the ingredients on before wolfing down under Schiehallions gaze, back on the road and the next leg was to be a lap of Loch Rannoch, clockwise because I thought that would make sense.  TBH it probably did as I didn't need to overtake any of the pootlers I passed going the normal way (Etape Caledonia has settled that the "Normal Way" here is anti-clockwise) though round the loch is almost totally flat, the hill past Dunalistair however isn't and I struggled up it on the outbound leg.

By the time I was back round at Rannoch it was Lunch 3 time, and I went into the café for cake and coke, thankfully they also had their toilets open as once I'd stopped long enough something that was disagreeing with me won the argument.  
Heading east the Dunalistair lump is even harder, though not as hard as the Schiehallion road and I was struggling away.  More riders passed as I climbed but it was soon time for the roll to Tummel Bridge with no shop stop due to the 6km gently uphill back to the caravan for Tea #1.

Rannoch Topiary

220km done and still daylight after 11hrs 30m, it was a simple retracing of steps to Dunkeld where I planned a shop raid, but the queue was out the door and round the corner towards the fountain, as is usual local knowledge helped and I found a queue at the shop in Birnham of 0 people, perfect.
I planned the route to get me home on 320km so to do this I used the back road to Bankfoot and then the muirs to Almondbank, this section is largely dull as is the ride into Perth, however the route into Perth was also entirely new to me due to significant flood defences having been built since I last rode in this way, the aim was that it was pretty flat, and it is but it's such a drag along this last stretch of Glen Almond and round the Inches I wished I'd just taken the blat through town approach.

My previous curiosity about Inchmagrannachan, is partly fuelled by knowing that in Scots an Inch is a flood plain, island or slight rise from a flood plain, this makes sense with Perth's North and South inch as they form vast tracts of empty land for flooding, but I don't see the link up there.

Perth

On being dumped into Perth I came a cross a load of teenagers inhaling NOX, snashing glass bottles and surprisingly getting out my way as I approached, pity they hadn't moved the glass.

I held my breath as I continued under Smeatons bridge but no evidence of deflation was present so I could sigh in relief as I crossed the Tay on the Queen's Bridge.
Ordinarily I would have crossed Smeatons bridge and settled in for the climb of Kinnoul and the views of the carse of Gowrie and Friarton Bridge from high up on the hill, but this would have been 140m higher than I wanted, so I took the less pleasant route.  The cycle path into Walnut Grove when heading East shines your light into the oncoming drivers eyes, the A90 cycle path does more of the same, it's always a relief to get off it at St Madoes.

RRS Discovery Dundee

I contemplated chips in Errol but as it turned out I don't know where the Errol chipper is, and the only hint of my location after that was the glow of Dundee getting closer as I cut through the night.

I was earlier than I had planned for so I found myself on the sub-standard pavement based cycle track along Riverside Avenue (known to most Dundonians as the Riverside Tip) before being released onto a deserted esplanade.  Once on the bridge it wasn't far until my next rest and I was surprised to find a couple of joggers and another rider, the later as I later discovered puffing his way Northwards mid-600.

I got home on 17hrs 55m with 320km on the clock, the plan now was to eat.
I had chicken gougons that would take 15 minutes to cook, some veg and a corn on the cob; so while they cooked I got on with "other stuff", probably that pasta still haunting me as it would for a few days more.  Finding a flat 80km in Fife was unsurprisingly tricky and I resorted to using Strathkinness High Road as the main climb of the last leg to cross from the flat of the Eden to the Flat of the Howe.

Just before half 11 I slipped back into the darkness, so far my bike having not missed a beat, the wheel round to St Michaels via Tayport dispatched as normal, before picking along the main road to Guardbridge where due to the amount of traffic coming in from Cupar I opted to stick with the cycle track despite it being pretty rubbish until Kincaple.  In spite of the midnight traffic town was dead, the students locked up to contain the Virus within their Halls, the pubs long shut up at 10. I didn't plan to hang around, out up the bleak Strath of Kinness, the mist returned, Strathkinness village and Blebo Craigs blinking out of the darkness to my north, a thick wet mass hanging in all directions. Somewhere I felt a clunk as I hit a pot hole, the descent to Pitscottie requiring pedalling, there was no sound of brake rub nor evidence of electrics short, was it an illusion of the dark?

Ladybank Station

I didn't feel extra resistance on the climb to Craigrothie, nor on the descent to Springfield.  At Ladybank originally called Lady Bog but considered not suitable by the stuff Victorians of the North British Railway, I decided I had time for a short rest and investigation, but all looked good at the bus shelter.

There was now only 3 roads till home; with the route planned around the night the A92 was again my "fast" leg, out of the Bog and into the "Melville Ming" the name given to the stench emitted from the Old Ladybank Landfill.  In the dark this road can be defined by the street lights, nothing from Letham to Parbroad, and I'd decided I wanted another rest, not that I needed one I just wanted it because I had time, it's a well built brick job but fortunately the bench isn't conductive to sleep and my bed wasn't far.

Parbroath

I didn't notice the climb of the West Face of Rathillet, but it knocked 10kmh off my speed, something I wouldn't see again until I was overly cautious at the Sandford turn.  

The village finally appeared and the cruise through the village to finish off the ride was a perfect ending.

Distance: 403km
Elapsed Time: 22hrs 42m
Riding Time: 19hrs 28m
Elevation Gained: 3300m

I was pretty happy with how my body had coped being thrown straight into that distance, I now need to design a suitable 600km course and get it ridden before any "circuit breakers" get flicked.

What a year so far

I could hardly have predicted what this year would bring and as the nights slowly reduce to extended gloaming I'm already looking back at a lost year. After January's aborted ride home from Torridon I was largely laid up by strong winds, a lack of flexi time and a couple of rather bad colds that had me bed bound twice.  But worse was to come.

At the end of January I hauled myself  over to the hostel at Glen Nevis on the last Friday initially hoping to do a 200 on Morvern and Morar to get 3 in but I realized it wasn't happening and 1 RRTY was going to have to be dropped.
The cough wasn't gone, the lethargy wasn't gone and I wasn't exactly flying on the gentle terrain.
In fact I was straining away at a horribly low cadence, in bigger gears than I'd normally use and planted at 130bpm. I probably shouldn't have headed out at all but the lure of that 5xRRTY cloth badge...
By the time I got home late on the Saturday night something really was amiss and not with my lungs, my left ankle was aching for some reason. But RRTY 4 done, 5 a few months in, 6 dropped for now.

I hobbled around for a few days and the problem seemed to go, the storms again kept me off the bike although I still wasn't really feeling up to it as I recovered from the nasty lurgy that had floored me at the end of January, and then I started to feel a slight pain in the back of my calf.
I seemed to be struggling a bit while walking at lunch time one week and then the next I was walking really fast, like power walking, one of my colleagues commented on how out of breath I was when I got back to the office, my resting HR was also high, I put it down to lurgy recovery.
Then I had a couple of days of back pains, sharp pings in my lower right flank, urgh.

The niggling ache was still there when I booked the last Wednesday of February as flexi but I thought nothing of it and on the Tuesday night I fiddled with the bike and tested it to make sure the extended lay up hadn't affected it.  Lying down in bed that night I noted my left inner thigh felt a bit odd, and then as I tried to get to sleep my right lower back pinged, and it pinged repeatedly through the night.
I was feeling rough when I got up in the morning and realized I wasn't riding, my back aching but nothing else was sore, I fired off a DNS e-mail to my local DIY organizer and went back to bed and managed to get a half decent sleep.

When I woke I my left knee wouldn't bend properly to climb out of bed, trying to get my feet on the floor I realized it was much worse than that, I couldn't properly put weight on the leg either.
I hobbled around carefully for a bit, and deciding it wasn't too bad I went back to bed to see how I was the next day.  Not much better, ach RRTY 5 over, rest needed I can get that at work.
I struggled around work for the day and got ready for an "important" project management (ugh) training course the next day.

When I woke up on the Friday things had got a lot worse, now I couldn't put any weight on the leg or bend the knee. I mixed hanging onto things and hopping to get downstairs and nicked Mum's walking stick as an aid.  Ice, compression, leg up, Count Duckula DVD in, it was going to be a considerably less interesting weekend than I'd planned, it was also nice, calm and sunny for once FFS!

On the plus side I got 2 doctors for the price of 1 (a 4th Year Med Student on Elective and my registered GP) when I went for my appointment on the Monday, by now I was able to move around with the aid of a knee support and they both had a check and came to the same conclusion.
Both Gastrocnemius swollen, probable calf strain, RICE it and come back if you can't get around at work. Might need physio.

Fed up of being at home even with Cosgove and Hall's genius on the telly I went to work the next day and was introduced to the Health Board's plans for the then UK SARS-COV-2/COVID19 response which was to let everyone get sick and ride it out.  Which if it went as well as expected, 40% of staff available at its worst and I could be redeployed to anywhere... most likely portering as it's easier to train a software developer for that than nursing. (Humans apparently don't have a debugger or particularly advanced diagnostic tools, hence we only know who died with the disease not directly due to it). I pointed out a small problem with me being redeployed to anything that didn't involve sitting still all day with my leg elevated.

My next interest was finding a physio, they all now had warnings saying they wouldn't see anyone with even a sniffle; this is handy for anyone with rhinitis who always has a sniffle...
So with that option shut I went looking on the internet (this I have done before with my dodgy right ankle, not exactly a great indication of the likely success of the approach) to tide over and about the same amount of information I'd probably get from a self-referral to MSK since there's an extended waiting list.

Thankfully someone, possibly Emanuel Macron gave Alexander De Peffel a boot up the arse and the resulting change of plan means it's not been that bad, with my return to walking and cycling occurring slowly from the start of April, I've been rather enjoying the deserted roads as a diversion from the busyness of work if not the monotony of wandering round the building repeatedly at lunch times.

I realize that my entire plans for the year were wiped out by this injury, virus and disease but it's worked in my favour financially as lost transport ticket costs and entry fees have been either refunded or deferred to when things get back to normal again, and hopefully by then I'll be back to normal too.

Stay Safe Folks.

A new years miss-adventure - 28th Dec 2019 to 3rd Jan 2020

The Scottish winter seems to be a damp squall these days, not great if you like trashing skis on the frozen ice fields on the Mounth, but not bad if you've got RRTYs to chase.  With the Braco Way extension and a Snow Roads in the bag I just needed another ride for the 3 ongoing RRTYs (4,5 and 6).

With my hiking club's Hogmanay trip to Torridon lined up I set off from home on an uneventful ride to the rebuilt Glen Nevis hostel in Fort William for RRTY #4; a basic touring route cutting the corner of the tay by crossing the Sidlaws to Dunkeld and on up the A9 cycle track.  The newly resurfaced section on the Drummochter pass is a significant improvement from the previous route on all but one point.  For some reason someone decided to install poles at the bridges that make line choice tricky (thanks to them being on turns) on an upright with a Carraidce and I can see many tourists smashing their bags off them come the summer, if you're on a trike or in a wheel chair though forget it! 

Stopping at the Wolftrax café, my former regular MTB patch for a late lunch and along the almost deserted A96 to Spean Bridge, I needed a few more Kms and rather than ride up to the Glen NEvis road end and back I'd decided to dodge the A82 section from Spean Bridge to the Fort by taking the Gairlochy to Banavie road, this necessitates the climb up to the Commando Monument.

The hostel has had a significant rebuild on its original footprint and now has two floors and a large open plan communal area.
I was taken by surprise at the lack of "Heat it and eat it" meals at the Hostel thankfully though one of the chip shops in town are on Just Eat so I got something brought up rather than ride to town and back.

The next morning I was up early for my bonus ride to the hostel in Torridon.
I didn't need this to be a 200 but I only needed a slight extension via Achnasheen to get it there so I went for the extra 2 points and the possibility of starting RRTY #7.

A stiff southerly was forecast but I reckoned this to be to my advantage and I was soon shooting over back up the Gairlochy road to the monument, on the side of the Ben I could see climbers already at altitude above the flood. At this ungodly hour on the Sabbath the A82 was all but deserted, not long after Invergarry the first of the corner cuts arrived, a stiff climb over Craig Ard, saving meters of road and gaining plenty of elevation for the AAA points that the route claimed to have.

At the top I rested before plunging back to the still deserted main road beside the loch; the road is flat along the loch but after the Tomdoun junction it starts to climb stiffly up the deviation built when Loch Loyne was dammed, rather than build a new bridge crossing the loch a new road was hewn into the side of Cárn Bán moving the confluence of the A87 and A887 from the Claunie Inn to the head of Loch Moriston.

Traffic was getting heavier now, Skye bound holiday home traffic crossing from Inverness.  Last time I was at the Claunie in it was still a ramshackle old Drovers Inn with cheap rooms and a bunkhouse, I was exploring the north end of the old road on my MTB; I've still not checked out the south end from Tomdoun.  Now the Claunie seems to be a remote luxury spa break, I'm not so sure of this change.

I was glad to reach the summit, the stream of cars hammering past me soon ceased as a nervous overtaker didnt' want to pass me as I plunged down from 271m to sea level at Loch Duich in a little over 13km.

On the loop road through Morvich that I needed for the distance  I got a taste of the strength of wind as I fought along the north end to get back onto the main road.  The Invernaite petrol station seemed to take for ever to arrive and I wondered if I'd missed it. I got lunch in the form of a black pudding sausage roll pastry.
Another small cut arrived at Dornie, this one didn't involve any extra height, and at Auchtertyre the road to the north splits off, traffic lessens and it climbs over Meall Ailean; I do wonder if rather than cross this had I gone to the Kyle and round by Plockton things may have worked out differently.

The road reaches it's summit of 208 in around 4km, and them promptly plunges you back to sea level on Loch Carron, this section is infamous for its rockfalls as the road shares a lochside shelf cut into the rocks, netting holds the rocks back as best it can, sections of previous fall form depressions in the rockface, and at one point a shelter is built over road and rail.

The wind blew up Strathcarron as the gloaming arrived without sunset and as darkness fell in Glen Carron this lone cyclist, surprised by the rapidly reducing effort needed to get up the hill took his misted up glasses off and noted there was only 28km to go.
The Sodium street lights of Achnasheen glowed in front of me, the rain highlighted in its horizontal trajectory by the Orange glow, it was wild.  I left the shelter of the trees by the Ledgowan and was blown off track, I lent into the wind and carried onto the circle.  Despite the wind being South Westerly it was being funneled by the steep sides of the unnamed glen holding the road and Loch a Crosig.

I tried to turn the bike into the corner to take the road to Kinlochewe but the wind wasn't having it, it turned the bike back onto the circle and started to send me on my way to Inverness.  Retreating to the shelter of the trees I weighed up my options.
Option 1: I don't need these points, thumb a lift.
Option 2: You've got time to return to Strath Carron and go round by Shieldaig.

I opted for option 2, extra distance for the Festive 500 at the least.  I soon found the reason for my rapid progress up the hill as I struggled into the wind as I retreated along Loch Gowan.  When facing directly into the wind I found it easier to progress on foot, I knew it was a long way to the summit and a bit of shelter.
A van passed and pulled into a turning space before pulling up alongside me and asked if I wanted a lift. What more could I say than aye.
The bike and I bundled into the back of the van along with a collie and 3 mountain bikes fresh from a practice session on the Strathpuffer circuit at Contin where a group called Teuchter Wagons were preparing for this years event.

I was disorientated when I got out the van at Loch Carron where I'd asked to be dropped off so I could ride the last wee bit and get my distance up.
The water indistinguishable in the darkness of the night from the sky was eventually identified and I road on into the much gentler wind.
The Audax and AAA points gone but that didn't matter now. I'd forgotten that the road first crosses to Kishorn, I questioned my decision and thought I should have sought the sanctuary of the Ledgowan Lodge and tried to blag a lift to Torridon, but I'd made this decision.  I walked one of the hills.

At Kishorn the road turned and I was soon passing the junction for Applecross and the Bealach na Bá and before I knew it I was climbing the Shieldaig bypass, and over the rise by Ben Damph and at last the hostel.

I got my "Heat it and Eat it" curry and went to bed having already decided to put my plan to ride to Toscaig and back via the coast road and bealach. In the morning I woke to another wet and indifferent day, I didn't know when I could access the accommodation the club had booked so set off up Glen Torridon to finish off the Festive 500 before sitting in the Café at the village shop for elevenses, lunch and watching the locals from a warm corner.

I haven't ridden the bike since. (Now the 11th of January), not only did the weather prevent my ride for the 1st and 2nd of January but my delayed plan to ride to Toscaig on the 31st was prevented despite the fantastic Hogmanay weather by the onset of Lurgy.

I have 3 RRTYs on the go and now only two weekends left to ride them in once I shift this cough.