Building back up again, again!

It seemed such an innocuous slip, I didn't even feel any ill effects for bashing my knee when I walked back into the house after it noting that the decking is slippy when wet. 

Four days later I was barely walking and had my knee on ice. Having already taken a couple of weeks off the Turbo having felt a strain in my right calf after an over ambitious 10km walk and being ever so slightly paranoid after 2020s injuries I realized I was going to be hurtling back to untrained after a load of effort on the turbo through a pretty minging winter. It was the end of march, a year and a month since my left leg had gone, and now my right leg was keeping me out of action just as the good weather and audax was kicking off again. 

My target was the Snow Hare on the 22nd of May, I returned to the turbo trainer for light spinning mid-April, trying to take a similar approach to 2020 but on a better turbo, with a power meter and more data to fret over, it was disappointing seeing such poor figures.
I've moved house, now at the bottom end of North Fife in the edge of the Howe, I needed to find new routes, the flats of the Howe and the climbs of the braes mostly gentler than around Wormit but there's also decent climbs to do such as the Cadgers and Falkland Hill.
I rode to Leven and suffered a tyre blowout, I rode to the bike shop in Methil after faffing for an hour only to discover they'd shut 30 mins previously. The tyre boot got me home.
I rode to Elie and didn't suffer such calamity, but I forgot my mask and money, so having misjudged how lumpy a route it can be made I was glad to find the reserves to get home on the flatter return route.

I wasn't sure I was ready but I loaded up the car and discovered I now live just over an hour on a Saturday morning from Galashiels, the Dalkeith Premier Inn for 35 quid didn't seem a worthwhile bargain for an extra 45 mins in bed. I had felt strong on the turbo, but you don't feel your weight on them.
I think every time I get injured I put on 5 kilos, I've had a few 5 Kilos since my peak, and why can I never lose them by riding?
I remember Jan Ulrich used to be "fat shamed" for being one of the few riders able to maintain weight during the cycling season rather than finishing it skeletal, why is it that what's seen as normal both in cycling and real life isn't healthy? 

Anyway, I set off out of Galashiels on the Clovenfords road and soon remembered it was uphill and discovered I'm now properly slow uphill. I was going to spend the day at the back and alone. It was also only 1 week post 1st jag of the BioNTech vaccine, apparently that messes with your performance, so maybe it wasn't just my worse than wanted lead in.
This was a new route from Lucy, going cross country via Peebles and Biggar to Sanquhar, At Peebles I discovered I could no longer get a balance receipt for my credit card, so had to ride back to the petrol station, forgetting there's a shop on the road out. Then I discovered that Sainsburys in Biggar has closed after riding down past all the other shops, I rode back up the hill forgetting about the petrol station. I've ridden around here enough that I should know these things. I didn't go round by Abington Services but took a quiet road that cuts directly across to the Spango road, even though I was slow I didn't think I was going to struggle too much for time. It might have been lumpy but it saved me a juddering climb on the old A74, the Spango was a nice descent, but by the time I got to Sanquhar the café had shut. I had been considering returning by climbing the Menock pass but realized that would need to wait for another day.

I meant to take the other road at Crawfordjohn that would land me near to Abington services, minimizing the judder fest as I'd decided to favour the flatter return route from Abington to Symington, but from there it was just a reversal of the route out.
I ended up walking one of the hills after Broughton as I ran out of energy and had a nice seat on a viewpoint bench.
My time for the 204km was a respectable 11:30 but it's a relatively gentle route, I had more to do.

I threw in a gentle recovery on the turbo and an intervals session in the week between Snow Hare and Moscow Express, this time however I was going to have a 2nd engine.
Robbie had convinced me that going halfers on a tandem would be a good idea, I couldn't disagree on that and the only disappointment is that it only has two wheels. What has Audaxing done to me?
What I also couldn't disagree with was me being Captain, pretty much decided based on the front portion being closest to my frame size and a me being a bad passenger.

We did a set up ride on the Friday, a flat loop followed by a route with a long climb and a rapid descent with sharp left hander at the bottom, other than setting off at junctions it seemed to be going well, so we bit the bullet and took it down to Currie.

With 2 engines you don't get 2x the power because you're also 2x the weight and the bike itself weighs another double again, so while a heavy rider like myself may be somewhere around 110kg when set up for a 200, the combination of me, Robbie, tandem, bag and contents was more like 210kg, and with my FTP at the time being 1.6x body weight, basically I was relying on Robbie to shove us round and for me to pick up what I could.

We set off with the faster riders, because Tandems are fast on the flat, except this route wasn't flat. Early on while talking to Craig and Duncan I missed that I'd just put the fat (35mm) tyres of the tandem though a hole with sharp bits, Duncan followed us into it, Craig buggered off up the hill and with our fat tubes being no help to Duncan, we also buggered off and left him trailing apologies. After a nadgery lumpy bit we got onto the section that had given us a false sense of tandem suitability, which had been revealed to us by Bob and Tracy at the start who had made a decision not to Tandem it because it was bloody hilly around Lanark. We battered down the A71 at a fantastic pace, we were easily reaching 40kmh in the Big Ring on the flat and this road has rollers which were 60kmh easy.

Then we found Lanark and I missed a junction, it's a bit harder to turn a tandem on a moderately busy road than a bike. But maybe I should have researched better as with only an extra 5km of riding we'd have been on a gentle route round the big lump that Ross was sending us over. 

The climb out of Lanark was a slog up to the Viewpoint on Blackhill with a few respites in between, peaking at 22% on the first pitch we discovered we couldn't drop into the little ring, but we got up. For the 2nd pitch we stopped and adjusted the gears to give us the small and middle rings, it was less work for Robbie as I didn't peak out early on with easier gearing. 

The reward for the climb was the descent towards Kirkmuirhill, before climbing back up to a similar height at Strathaven (2 weeks in a row where Gaelic derived Scots pronunciations remain while the name gets written in Standard English), we controlled at Sainsburys where I took considerably longer than we'd have liked due to using the facilities. 

The A71 took us along to Galston and then we were back to climbing, on a long rising corner as the gradient touched 30%, I lost control at low speed and dropped the front wheel into the gutter, Robbie tried to catch it from the back as I rapidly unclipped knocking my cleat out of position; we somehow got going again and stopped at a layby 50m up the road so I could see why my foot was wonky. Thankfully it was only because my cleat bolts had come loose and was able to resolve with the multi tool and we were on our way again towards Moscow.  The village was originally called Moss Ha but was deliberately corrupted following Napoleons defeat at the hands of the Russians, the area was then used to house Russian prisoners of war during the Crimean war and other Russian influences can be found in the area.

Tyres are evidently better than Horseshoes

I'd been worried that I'd ended Duncan's ride early as he hadn't caught us as soon as I thought he would, but as we were resting at Moscow and taking note of the info control he arrived. Relieved I hadn't ended his ride we carried on up the gentle climb towards and over Whitelees, it's a much photographed road by Weegie riders as the near deserted road is basically a two way cycle track with half a carriageway for the odd car plonked in the middle.
The rising and falling road from Eaglesham back to Strathaven had me seeing odd movements in the bar bag holding my food, toolkit and spare tubes, this eventually revealed itself as a failed decaleur, we hadn't packed zip ties (school boy error!) and we were lucky to find a couple of straps that had been left in the bag, although I suppose we were stopped next to a farm so the next option would have been to cadge some Juibilee clips or some other agricultural fastener.

Soft focus on the Windfarm road

Thankfully we got to back to Strahaven and then on to Kirkmuir uneventfully, the climb back over Black Hill was also good, still feeling quite strong, or at least I was well assisted. And then we got to that steep hill, this time descending into Lanark, we were picking up speed fast, almost as fast as I could dispose of it with the brakes, not having a coaster brake and not being fully used to the feel of Koolstop brakes I thought I had overheated the front, so used the back to knock as much speed as I could off before thinking they were fading too. Robbie got worried about popping the tube with the heat, I was worried about the fact that despite braking we were now gaining speed even with the brakes on, and the road was narrow...
We'd nearly made it to the bottom when the dreaded sound of spinning air emanated from the back wheel. Baws. The fairy she doth visit. Robbie set about changing the tube, just as soon as he could touch the rims, they were pure bilin. 

15 minutes spent and we were on our way, now slogging up the main road into and through Lanark, we took a break at the petrol station to give everything a further check over, it was a long slog on to the Control at Carnwath and then on again up to the road summit above Tarbax, but then... maybe we should have stopped and readjusted the gears, but we mashed it as best we could coming to an agreement that we were spinning out about 40kmh in the middle ring on the 12T cog. What we couldn't get right was telling each other that were were going to stop pedalling, thankfully I don't just lock my knees when I stop but let them spin slightly but it was unnerving for Robbie when I did it too abruptly as he had visions of my knees exploding as he kept putting the power down as I locked them. 11 hours 45mins for a lumpy 200 is decent enough, the 9hrs 20mins of it we were actually riding, pretty happy for only our 2nd day of riding and learning about the Tandem. 

Tree and hedge lined roads of the Eastern Borders

Another week gap where I did gentle riding before the most challenging 200 of the 3 week block, I was worried it was going to be hilly, I expected I'd be the titular Lantern Rougé if I finished in time.
Leaving the school in Selkirk I made the most I could of the hill to get a good speed on the A7, the tailwind also helped as I shot along towards Gala and the climb to Lauder. I knew I wasn't going to be fast up any hill but I managed not to be Lantern Rouge by Lauder and had a decent average on the clock too.
Other than just before a sharp dig just out of Lauder where I slowed on the descent into it, so that Davey wouldn't have to come back round me as it ramped up abruptly just ahead of us.
The road by Howletts Ha to Chirnside was much faster than I was expecting it to be though Russell and Neil confused me at Duns by stopping at a shop, but it turned out they were waiting for another rider who they were meant to be riding with.
The wind and relatively gentle going along with my speed concerns had given me a good push and now I was going to be using that up, the route started to climb gently at first and then getting tougher as the climb to Whiteadder Reservoir dragged on, and it beat me at Hungry Snout a 30% ramp where the road goes from the natural level of the river to the raised level of the dam top in a short distance.

Looking back at Whiteadder Water

Thankfully after that it barely touched double figures as I slogged on under the sun to the road summit on Redstane rig, with lunch at the Lantern Rouge café in Gifford below. A half hour stop in the café queue and then sitting on the green eating my takeaway saw other riders come and go, maybe I should have eaten faster, but did it matter?
A 6 hour metric is still comfortably in time and the worst climb was done, wasn't it? The strength of the Westerly presented itself almost immediately on leaving Gifford, and it was a slog along the gentle rising and falling at the foot of the Lammermuirs and Moorfoots towards the Granites descent into Innerleithen. 

Getting ready to climb down the Granites when the descent comes

 Regular readers of this blog will remember that I have before Climbed Down the Granites and abandoned that ride at silly AM in the disabled toilet. These dark memories came to mind and I once again climbed down the Granites. 

But now I have the stats of that climb 

Distance: 12km 

Average Speed: 25.9kmh 

Elevation lost: 250m 

Average Gradient: 1.5% 

Average Power: 165w 

I averaged just 10w short of my then FTP on the descent, and managed a fairly average flat land speed. With the sun beating down, and the wind beating me up I'd used more of my liquid and reserves than I'd expected so resorted to Lucozade sport at the Co-Op where I had 2nd lunch, Davey and Jayne set off before me, so I was fairly sure I was Lantern Rouge now. 

2nd Last climb of the day was Paddy Slacks, 10km at 3%, 

I was running near empty, I put out less power on this climb than it took me to descend the Granites. I thought my memory might be playing tricks on me, but I was sure that where the woods called Paddock Slack on the East was joined by the woods to the west that was the road summit, I felt decent on the climb, but it was a slow 10kmh climb. 

The road curves round Mountbenger law as it dives down to the Gordon Arms, I saw Daveys bike propped up against the wall, he can have the light. Next was the Berrybush for a final slog, Davey soon caught me after some Isotonic refreshment in the form of a swift half, I was slowly running out of that Lucozade. It's only 6.6Km at 2.3% through the woods at Berrybush where McNasty had heard the birds ring out like a telephone on the Valkyries and neither Dick McT nor myself would let on in the Jammy Coo that we'd heard the same. 

It feels almost all downhill from here until the final insult in Selkirk, but the average grade is only -0.5% with the best of the descent ending at Tushielaw, the long shallow descent by the Ettrick punctuated by the odd little dig, a song would do to get me through. 

Fallah-tallah rhu-dhumma, rhu-dhum, rhu-u-dhum; 

Fallah-tallah rhu-dhumma, rhu-dhum-day! 

The final insult arrived, the dig up into Selkirk, at least I didn't have to go up to the petrol station on the clock. After controlling at the Co-Op I hauled myself up to the car where Davey was just contemplating the journey home. 

There was another car still in the car park, he had seen the owner stopped at the side of the road resting, I had not. Was I Lantern Rouge? 

This is Audax, I should never know. 

11hrs 53m elapsed is still decent, particularly given the 2600m of climbing involved so I went into a relatively restful period happy.

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.

The Longest Night (Snow Roads) - 21 Dec 2019

"Tay FM Snow Report: Powrie Brae is at a crawl and roads in Dundee are treacherous, the Cairnwell and Cairn O' Mounth are closed due to snow, all schools in Perth and Dundee are shut meanwhile in Fife Madras and Bell Baxter are open to local pupils and those whose buses turn up".

Why did my school bus always turn up?
Why did the Dundee kids get off at the slightest hint of snow when they could walk the mile to School when we had a 14 mile bus journey to look forwards to?
And why was this always on the wireless at 0805 when my bus was nominally at 0800 and we relied on Keith in the shop to holler the good news to us often as the bus was coming round the corner?

Such Snow reports from the radio give the "Snow Roads" their name and has loaned it to this Audax of legends, comprising two of the historic "Mounth Roads" crossing the barrier between the Lowlands and the Highlands and 3 passes that link Highland glens it's not an easy ride and as the organiser pleads "please, not in winter".
 

Stock Photograph: Typical winter scene in Glen Callater

The Braco way - 30th Nov an 1st Dec

Ah've bin awa seein neebs in Holand since the Audax Uk Reunion Deener Dairt which ah havnae hid mich tae be screiving aboot, 'twas ain o' mah wirst routes ever efter we hid ridden thro' that Tyne Tunnel an the rest wiz in the dairk afore that sae thir wisnae muckle tae see.

Mah holiday route taked me fae Northallerton tae Hull whar ah taked the steamer tae Europport, from whaar ah rade up the coast on thon LF1 route via Hook o' Holland and Zandvoort tae a toon near aboots Alkmaar whar mah neebs bide.
On the wai back ah rode inland atween the coastal and inland toons throu by the Haarlemersmeer an Maasland afore braving the heidwind in Zeeland 'til ah ran oot o' Netherlands and entirt Belgium whar ah bided in Brugge afore mah ferry.

A cauld mornin stairt

Robbie an ah hid plans fir the Braco Wai, bit he hid the date o' Thainksgien wrang an so wiz in the states wi femily.
Ah set aff efter dairk oan the Seterday nicht, 'twas bitterly cauld, ah believe mah thermometer ower reads bi fehv degrees and it was tellin' me it wis zero. Mah tackety winter tyres gaed seelent as thay skimmit aiver icy burns in the road; ee Glenfarg ah saw minus shree oan mah thermometer, wis that really minus aicht???
At Milnathort ah stoaped tae tap up oan juice an food fir brakfast in the morn afore rading an tae ma hotel in Kinross.

Benarti Hull

A thoucht a hid mah times sortit fir getting tae the stairt in decent time, an ah set oot intae the minus seiven cauld at aicht in the mornin fir the ten in the forenuin stairt.  Ah thoucht this wid mak me stairt on 14.3kmh as ah rollit thru the cauld forenoon air the burns in the cunyies an mah bottles war geilt by Kelty. Ah kent by noo that ah wiz wrang aboot mah times an ah rollit in tae the stairt in Dumfaurlin at twinty efter 9.

Ah thoucht ah micht be the ainly rader but ah wiz wrang again, mair brave or mibbie glakit idjits hid arrived but no aw wir stairtin.  By the aff mah average wis doon tae twal kmh an ah wid be in haste aw day tae stai aiver that fowerteen point shree minimum aince ah had makit back.

A fine parcel O' Idjits

The route taks in some o' mah fauvrit roads, aince we were oot o' toon and past Saulin it wis on tae the Yetts 'o Muckhart and up Glendevon, mah hivy tyres and legs making it a sair fecht o a clim fir thon view in tae Strathearn fae the tap o' the pass.  A rapid descent follit afore ah turnt ontae a road ah'd no raden afore tae Auchterarder station.  Ah had fifteen kmh oan the clock as ah rade intae toon, anely eneuch fir a fest bunce, but ithers war in they tee shaps and cafés wi plenty time fir thir deener.

Up the brae o' Glen Devon

In the copie thir wiz a faut wi the automatic tills an a hid tae bide a wee whiley in the queue afore ah got serrit.  A hid ma deener o salat, sweeies an juice aside the bike an then set aff up the brae, an oot on tae the road tae Braco. Tho there wiz nae ice tae see, the road wisnae tae guid but mah tapity tyres did thir joab.
Ah wis glad tae get this section duin as ah kent fae Dunblane it wid be maistly flet.  Ah hid planned tae ride by the Glen Road instead o the Kier Circle bit wi nae mich time tae play wi ah went the fest wai.

Crossin fae Glen Devon intae Glen Eaglais

The Brig O' Allan wis stowed oot an ah lost time waiting fir fowks tae park their motors afore finishing the descent tae Causewayheid what ah thoucht thir wis a copey ah coud stot aff ae.
But whan ah got thar the copey had movit tae ah dinnae ken whaur so ah went tae the cafe fir a cake and reciept.  Thae Angus lads waur thar an aw an ah wid hae bided an ridden wi them if a hid the time but ah didnae sae ah appologised and crackit oan taewards Tullie and Sauchie afore skirting Allowae tae Clackmannan and thae cycle paith richt intae Dumfaurlin.

Thon paith didnae feel sae brent laist time ah rade it but the day wi the bauchelt legs and slaw tyres ah felt it.  Wi jist o'er fifteen point shree oan the clock ah got tae the feenish o' the Braco wai but mah day wisnae o'er yet. A hunner an twinty fower kilometers oot o' twa hunner an twa ah wis gonnae be riding intae the gloaming and on tae the nicht.  Efter a quick bite tae eat and thanks tae the organiser ah was oan ma way, a fletish fir Fife ride aince ah wis oot o' Dumfaurlin  as ah climbed up tae Cowdenbeath and then oan roond Loch Leven an up tae Glenfarg, by Newburgh ah wis up tae fifteen an a hauf but wis hungert.  A copey raid was jist the ticket an a set on the last leg up tae Hazelton the better o that.

Allowae an Dumfaurlin Cycle paith

Ah ken this road weel but a haed makkit a mistak in mah routing tae get the route up tae distance a hid tae find shree kilometers, ah cud hae food thaim at Balgeddie Toll an Duncrievie but naw ah pit them in oan Norries Law an the Stirton lum.  As ah turnt on tae thon first hard climb ah felt the ice aneath mah wheels, thae tackets grippit an a' got in a rhythm bit soon the ice turnt tae frozen slush an ah groond tae a halt as the tyres howkit in.
Ah hid tae walk the bike up the brae fae thar 'till ah found a clean bit o tar tae stairt on.  Nae mair ice oan the south side o' Norries la' and Luthrie Bank wis gid an aw.  At Hazelton a turnt doon Mountquhannie aince mair the road wis clean an a hid nae fear but the laist fricht was nae faur.
The lum stairtit guid, but in the trees thon sun hadnae got tae the ice an the water rinning doon the brae wis frozen, mah tackets wir nae use aince a hid stopped and a shuflit on tae the verge fir a final walk up the brae.

Sundoun as ah ride intae the Gloamin

Wi Dundee o'er the water, Gauldry ahead and Wirmit doon the brae ah wis nearly hame et the back o' nine, aw wis guid and ah flew doon the Gutchers brae an in tae the village, shirteen hoors an twal meenits efter setting aff fae Kinross ah wis hame, whit a day.

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.