Affric & Torridon

Glen Affric & Torridon

The autumnal forecast wasn't looking too great as the date approached for our trip north, we decided to ditch the tents and booked in to a bunkhouse for a couple of nights.
Four of us set out from Leeds in two separate vans, meeting up at the Clachaig Inn in Glen Coe for around 6pm.
The winds were howling down the Glen as we stretched our muscles in the pub car park, before being lured inside by the wood burning stove, beer and single malt.

After a couple of beers and a bite to eat, we took to the pool table and realised it had more of a gradient than the hills we were planning on riding over the next few days.
A couple of whiskies later, we bedded down for the night in the back of the vans.

The next morning we made our way further north, stopping off at Fort William for breakfast and supplies for our two nights in the bunkhouse. We didn't hold back, filling the trolly with steaks and beer.
Leaving Fort William behind, we were soon parked up at the small Kintail visitor centre in Morvich, preparing our bikes and packs for the ride in to Camban bothy.
Finally we were on the bikes and riding down Glean Lichd on a good Landrover track. The ridge line of the Five Sisters dominated our view as we climbed higher.

Photo Credit: Aston Reardon

Photo Credit: Aston Reardon

After 6km the track turned to singletrack and started to steepen, making us push and carry our bikes pretty much all the way up.
After gaining around 300 metres the trail was ride-able once again and in no time we found ourselves at the bothy.
Once inside with our water bottles filled, the clouds started to descend and signs of rain were in the air.
We each carried a little bothy treat in our packs to share, but it appeared we all pretty much decided on cheese, spicy sausage and port. With no fire, we lit a couple of candles and passed around our treats.

An early night, saw an early start and no rain banging on the windows. After a quick breakfast we headed out on the small descent down to the hostel at Alltbeithe.
Over night the trail had become a river, so staying dry wasn't much of an option as the spray soaked us through.
The rivers and burns seemed to be carrying a lot of water down from the hills, but luckily there was a bridge to get us across for our climb up Glean Gniomhaidh. We pushed our way up a boggy trail, until we found the proper established track allowing us to ride and gain the height up to Bealach an Sgairne.
After the Loch a Bealach the trail started to steepen and once again the bikes were shouldered. It was only a short climb, but at the top, the wind was so strong it nearly blew us back down.
On the other side the trail was just as steep, with tight switchbacks to negotiate. The switchbacks weren't the only feature slowing us down, the small burn we had to cross had turned in to dangerous torrent.
Trekking up and down, we all tried to find the safest place to cross, each agreeing to brave the so called ford. We took the bikes over in two's, placing the bike in the middle for support against the current. The water came up to our waists and filled my waterproof socks, making it look like my ankles had swollen up, it did manage to get some laughs when I emptied out the contents like a water filled welly.

From here the trail mellowed a touch, and took us down the glen quickly on some nice flowing singletrack. Only the deer and goats slowed us down as they crossed our path.
The refuge of the van came in to view and more importantly, warm dry clothes.

It was only a short drive to our bunkhouse and we were there for 4pm, giving us plenty of time to sort out our gear, lube up the bikes and get the wet clothes in the dry room.
The steaks went down a treat and after a couple of beers, we had another early night.

Next morning we discussed the days plans over breakfast. A loop was planned in to the Torridon hills, starting from Achnashellach so we made the short drive there.
Once parked up it was back down the road towards Coulags where we took the trail north towards Coire Fionnariach bothy. We made good time to the bothy and finding it locked, carried on up towards Bealach Ban.

Photo Credit: Martin Paine

Photo Credit: Martin Paine

After a short push/carry and a few picture stops, we were at the Bealach and greeted with amazing views over to Liathach. The trail contoured round then began to climb again to our high point of the day according to the map, one last push was all that stood in our way to our final descent.
With the prospect of 7km of descending to do, we all seemed to hurry to the top and didn't hang around in the wind once there.
Martin lead us down the first steep rocky chutes, with me following behind. His wheel skipped and danced over the loose rocks as we dropped height fast. The rocks continued till we got to Loch Coire Lair, where the trail subsided for a while, allowing us to get some feeling back in to our arms.
The father and son team of Aston and Stuart caught us up and pressed on, while Martin and I took in the view.
Aston and his dad began to disappear out of view, so we mounted the bikes and pedalled after them.

Once again the track started to steepen and bed rock rose out of the ground like circling shark fins. Grip was in abundance as we used the rock to descend. Martin was in front, whooping and hollowing at every drop and turn all the way in to the woods.
At a small diversion, we met back up with Stu and Aston and were greeted with fist bumps and high fives all round.
Again we changed in to clean clothes for the short drive back to the digs for a good meal and a couple of beers around the log burner.
Rain was banging on the bunkhouse windows when we woke, but we were still slightly disappointed we were heading back to Leeds.

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Cairngorms & Ben Alder

The forecast was not looking good for our planned destination of Glen Coe and Kinlochleven, we decided to head North anyway, but with more of an open plan.

Setting off Thursday morning, gave us enough time to tackle a route in the afternoon. We didn't mess about, choosing the Munro of Ben Lawers for Martins first taste of Scottish trails.
With no traffic problems we were in Scotland and parked up in the Ben Lawers car park for around 3pm.
Knowing that it was a straight up and straight down ride, we opted to take the full face helmets for the carry up, so with them dangling awkwardly from our packs, we headed out on the climb.
It wasn't long before the bikes were on our shoulders and the walkers heading down from the hill, were looking at us as if we were chavs in a jewelry shop. Stopping for a chat with a few, they all said it was very windy on top and that we must be mad, to not only carry our bikes up there, but to ride them down the steep terrain.
Exiting the fenced off nature reserve, we chose the track up to the bealach on the shoulder of Beinn Ghlass.

Photo credit: Martin Paine

Once we reached the pass, it was clear that it wasn't going to be much fun on the summit ridge with the bikes, so we threw on the helmets and pads and readied ourselves for the descent back down.
With gravity on our side this time, an hours worth of climbing turned in to 10 minutes worth of sweeping, singletrack. The first section was fast and flowy until the rock strewn switchbacks down to the first gate. Once in the nature reserve, the trail became a bit more technical with a few drop offs to make sure we kept our concentration and speed up. All the walkers and Munro baggers seemed to be off the hill, but we still reigned in the speed a little around the corners.

Back at the car park, we checked the weather reports once again.
We had two options, to head West as planned or head East towards the Cairngorms. The forecast was looking better than it had, but with the best of the weather over East we chose to change our original plans. Studying the map, we headed North in to Glen Lyon and found a spot to camp among the pines.
Once the tent was up, we spotted a trail leading in to the forest, and with our riding gear still on, it would have been rude not to have had a little explore.
The trail was wide and a little boggy, but we were soon climbing up some old wooden steps. At the top, a cracking little trail led us down, snake like roots slithered across our path as the line took us back to the tent.
We fueled up on homemade chili and had a few beers as the light faded and the temperature dropped.

The next morning we were still unsure on what to ride, I needed some gloves so went in to Pitlochry knowing there was a good bike shop there, it was also a good excuse to have a chat with the local riders.

At the Escape Route bike shop, we came away with some new found knowledge of some local singletrack around the Rothiemurchus, a new bike park that had opened up at the Badaguish Outdoor Centre, two new pairs of gloves and Martin a new bottom bracket fitted. The guys there are great and really looked after us. The fire was roaring in the cafe next door so we waited in there, stuffing our faces with cake, for Martins bike, pondering the maps for the rest of the weekends rides.

Once the van was packed up again, we headed further North up the A9 to Aviemore.
We decided on checking out the bike park at the outdoor centre, so headed for there. Once there the table tops looked promising so we signed on at the reception, paying our pound to cover insurance.
We wish we hadn't wasted our hard earned pound, as even that was too much to pay for a small, slow pump track, with not a lot of pump in it.
The jumps were small and carrying speed over the sticky gravel was near to impossible. One 3-4 foot drop was the only feature worth sampling really and we'd tackled worse the previous day on Ben Lawers. Not wanting to waste any more time, we swapped to the XC lids and headed in the woods.
Following the forest roads, we kept our eyes peeled for hidden trails leading in to the pines.
It wasn't long down the track until we spotted our first entry. Following it down had us bouncing over roots, and it was clear that the locals had been building by the small berms aiding cornering and the odd jump thrown in for good measure. Once at the bottom we climbed the forest roads again, finding a small handful of little gems to keep us occupied for the next couple of hours.

The plan for the evening was to ride the singletrack trails around Glen Feshie and then grab the sleeping bags to spend the night in Ruigh Aiteachain, the bothy down the glen.
Parking at Auchlean, we left the van and headed on out.
At the first gate, we came across a sign informing us the bothy was closed for renovation. This put a little dampener on the evening as Martin was looking forward to his first bothy experience, but we carried on anyway.
We made good time down the trail until a landslide had wiped out the steps leading to the river crossing. Carrying speed, I started the descent down the steps not realising there was about 10 foot of trail missing. I managed to spot a sandy chute leading down to the riverbed below and just managed to get the back wheel round to make it down. It was steep and rocky in the bottom, so I quickly shouted Martin to dismount at the top.

On an undulating trail we carried on through the ancient Caledonian pines, past the fenced off bothy and to the head of the glen. Luckily the toilet was still open, but we don't need to go in to that.... As I did.
The light was amazing, washing the surrounding hills in a golden glow and making us wish we were camping down here for the night, and I'd brought the big boy camera instead of relying on our phones.
After a good few minutes soaking up the views, we headed back down the trail and straight to the van to sort out where we were going to put our heads down.

We chose the campsite on the Alvie estate and once pitched up, made the most of the showers.
Over a beer and some food, we checked the weather and studied the maps one last time. We narrowed it down to two options, a loop up Glen Tilt from Blair Atholl, or a loop around Ben Alder. Even though I'd done the Ben Alder loop twice, I thought it would be a great introduction to Scottish riding. With big hills, a remote location, amazing scenery and one of the best descents in the UK, it's certainly worth doing again and again.

After a cold, but good nights sleep we were up and driving the short drive down to Dalwhinnie. Parking up at the rail crossing, we prepped our gear and bikes. It was tarmac along Loch Ericht for about 8 miles, and we made good progress, stopping for the occasional picture until we left the posh houses, or I should say castles behind.














The views started to open up as we climbed away from Ben Alder Lodge towards Loch Pattack and we had our first glimpse of both mountain passes we had to cross.
After a quick chat with the locals, we took the singletrack trail to lead us to the closed Culra bothy.
Ben Alder seemed to get more imposing with every wheel turn, as the clouds enveloped and swirled around the summit plateau.

To say we didn't lose any height, the trail was fast and flowing all the way to the bridge.
Crossing the river, we carried on past the bothy and up on a narrow trail.
The odd stream crossing, offers step ups, to keep concentration and our speed up as we started to climb.
Steadily we rose, making good time, not really noticing the altitude we were gaining.
The mountains started to claustrophobically close in around us and the wind dropped in the shelter of the hills.



We were off of the bikes, pushing for the last couple hundred metrs and upon reaching the top of Bealach Dubh, the wind did it's best to steal away the air that we needed. After filling our lungs alongside a quick snack, we started to descend.
The trail started off steep, with a steeper drop off to our right, keeping us under control. It soon mellowed and contoured around to Bealach Cumhann where the drop down to Ben Alder Cottage would begin.
What lay in front of us was not just an amazing view back down to Loch Ericht, but a piece of flowy singletrack heaven. Stretching out 5km with 300m of descent, I wanted to reach the bothy at the bottom with no stops. Each time I've been on this trail, someone from the group has had a mechanical, ranging from a flat, to a snapped chainstay the previous year.

Photo Credit: Martin Paine

Not a pedal was turned, or a brake lever twitched for the first 3km as we meandered our way down.
A brief small climb forced us to get on the gas and back on the saddles, before we made the steepening drop down. We chose to head to the bothy for lunch, to make use of the shelter from the wind.
I noticed Martin in front pulled up to the side, we didn't make it! He had caught his rear wheel on one of the water bars, causing a puncture to his tyre. With the bothy in spitting distance, we decided to fix the puncture there. While Martin set about putting a tube in to his tyre, I settled in the bothy and refueled on chicken wraps.

Once mechanicals were fixed and bellys were full, we shouldered up the bikes and began the trudge up to our second bealach of the route.
I had warned Martin we had a 500m carry all the way to the top, but it still comes as a shock when thighs and shoulders start to ache.
After just over an hour, the terrain started to ease as we began to see the top in sight.

We had a couple of minutes just taking in the views down both sides, but with rain clouds off in the distance we didn't stay there too long.
There is no obvious line choice, so we each picked our way down the grassy slope, over peat hags and large rocky outcrops all the way down to the high loch.
It was muddy and the going was slow around the loch, but it was hard to dampen spirits with the grandeur of the mountains around us.

At the head of the loch we picked up the trail to take us back down to Culra. After a brief climb, the descent back down is a little steeper than the one earlier, zigzagging it's way down the hillside.
Some tricky placed water bars made for some interesting bunny hops, before and straight after some of the corners, but we managed this descent without any issues.

Back in the glen we started from, it looked like we were going to get caught by a quick shower, so Martin lead the way along the singletrack back to the landrover track to take us back to Ben Alder Lodge. Finally catching up with him just before the lodge, we made it back to the van before the rain came.

Evening supplies were a little light, so we made a diversion to the Coop in Newtonmore for some much deserved beers.
With no rain the next morning, we had an early start for breakfast, to pack away the tent and to spend a couple of hours at the trails of Wolftrax.
The tamed trails were a welcome relief, allowing us to let go of the brakes and wind down after a good few days of riding.

Ladybower Loop

The April showers held off enough for the trails to dry out and with the clocks going forward, gave us an extra hour of riding time.

I put the extra hour to good use and headed down to the Peak District for an evening spin.

I decided to drive past Langsett and Cutt Gate and put in an extra 20 minutes driving time to get to the South side of Ladybower.

Parking up in the lay-by at Cutthroat Bridge, I quickly jumped on the bike and headed away on the bridleway, keeping my eye out for the highway men that used to patrol these parts. 

Mam Tor was showing proudly in the distance, my first beacon and a taste of the miles to come.

A brief climb and descent and I was spat out on the A57, where I rejoined the busy traffic and headed to the southern point of Ladybower.

Crossing the dam and turning right at the end, I headed in to the woods on a good track.

I followed the track for about a kilometer, turning left on a muddy trail that lead me up to Hope Cross. Weaving it's way up through the pines, it soon had me high above Ladybower and on the Roman Road to take me down to the village of Hope itself. The Roman Road is wide, but has some nice corners to take.
In no time I was on the tarmac and main road through Castleton.

Climbing steadily I soon reached Peak Cave or the Devils Arse. This time round I decided not to enter the Devils Arse and took the right road in the fork to Mam Farm.

The road got steeper and the tarmac started to crumble. The road up here, looks like it's just waiting to slide back down to the valley, but I managed to pick a route up to the Blue John Cavern.

Back on the road for a short spell, until I took the left bridleway up towards Lord's Seat.

From Rushup Edge there are some amazing views back down the Hope Valley.

Industry really does meet the countryside with the concrete works dominating the landscape.

Looking back down the Hope Valley.

The trail ahead was dry as I picked my way through the ruts, dropping steadily down to my right turning on Chapel Gate down to Edale.

The trail is fast as it starts to steepen, with a few technical sections to keep you on your toes and keep your speed down.

I was back on the tarmac for a couple of kilometers out of Edale, turning right for the bridleway up to Hollins Cross.

It was mainly ride-able all the way to the view point at the top, if you managed to get in the right rut.

A quick pause at the top to soak in the 360 degree views, before dropping my saddle for the quick blast back down to the Vale of Edale.

Again the tarmac lead me to the bridleway to take me back up to Hope Cross.

Putting power down on the pedals caused me to bend my 1st gear on the cassette, it was pretty well worn, but it must have been the power I generated on the pedals, must have been! Ok maybe the worn cassette didn't help.

I tried to bend back the gear, so I could at least get the gears working again and have 2nd gear to limp up the hills.

All the bending, twisting and pulling caused the pliers on my multi-tool to snap.

Just as I thought all hope was lost, a DoE leader came over the crest of the hill, riding a his shiny stead. The only thing he was missing was some shiny armour, but from his pack he pulled out a heavy duty pair of pliers.
I straightened out the cog, adjusted the gears and I was off again, with no excuse to push up the hills.

Back at Hope Cross, I had the awesome, steep and technical descent, known as The Beast to get down. Through the gate and in to the woods, I bounced over boulders and dropped in to rock filled chutes, all the way down.

Climbing out and back over the A57, I was soon pushing up to Hagg Farm.

There are two ways down to the Derwent Valley, I chose to head North along the Lockerbrook ridge.
The descent is fast and rocky all the way down to the reservoir at the bottom, it was certainly one of the highlights of the day.

The two tarmac kilometers to Fairholmes gave me a chance to reflect on the ride, take in the spring smells and check the route back to the van.

Once at Fairholmes, I crossed to the over side of Ladybower, in the shadows of the Derwent dam.

A few more kilometers of tarmac meandered it's way South East, before I broke away for the climb up Whinstone Lee Tor.

I pushed the bike up the steep bit, only because I had no 1st gear of course, otherwise I'd have been in the saddle.....

The sun was starting to set behind the hills I was on a couple of hours previously, making me stop for a couple of minutes to soak our brief summer up.

Contouring round to Whinstone Lee Tor was a delight as the clouds lit up from the setting sun, one final look over my shoulder and I dropped down the other side, leaving the breathtaking scene behind.

A dry, fast descent took me back down to Cutthroat Bridge. I can imagine this trail been a bit muddy after a wet spell.

Bike in the van and a short drive back to Leeds for my tea. Perfect ride!

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Tour du Nidderdale

The Nidderdale area is starting to feel like home. I have ridden the circuit above the valley a few times and Howstean Gorge at the head of the valley, is a favourite campsite of ours.

Less than an hour from Leeds we set out pretty late at 9am, meaning I had a rare lie in on a Sunday morning.

Martin followed us to our start point in Pateley Bridge and the weather forecast looked promising, we scrimped for change for the parking meter and headed out.

There wasn't much scope for a warm up, as the dreaded tarmac rose steeply out of the village for about 3/4 of a kilometer. We soon turned off the B6265 and headed North West on a quiet road .

The road, soon turned to track, the track soon turned to gravel and we carried on climbing up to the quarry at the dike crossing.

Jumps and drops have been built by the locals and a few of them were sessioning their creations like proud parents. We still had a long ride ahead of us, so didn't stop for a play, as tempting as the gap jumps were.

We crossed the stream by the convenient bridge and doubled back on ourselves down the other side.

The track got faster and faster until we came to Ashfold Side campsite. This was our turning point north in to the Nidderdale valley.

We pushed up the bridleway over grassy fields and through a small farm,. The sun was shining making us forget it was supposed to be a cold day in February, but the short, fast tarmac descent soon reminded us of that fact.

Following the road North we gazed over the reservoir at our return track, until we veered off off-road once again at Ramsgill.

Climbing on farm tracks, we headed up, through the gates and mud, for the descent down to Lofthouse.

Our eyes refused to look up at the church, knowing we had a lung busting, leg cruncher of a climb to get there, like a huge dragon it perched high on the hillside above, watching our every pedal turn.

Heads down and arses up, we each ascended at our own pace and one by one popped out at the pub. It was hard to resist a pint in The Crown Hotel, after being refreshed one hot, summers day a couple of years earlier.

The gradient eased and we were away from the tarmac, climbing over the shoulder of In Moor.

We were soon dropping on the rocky track down to Scar House Reservoir. Passing a few walkers, we reined in the speed to avoid any stray rocks flying around.

At the bottom, we shoved some food in our face holes and crossed the dam for the next daunting climb.

Following the Nidderdale Way until we took the trail on top of the ridge. The valley opened up below us, and Great Whernside was covered in snow behind us, offering stunning views whichever way we looked.

On this side of the valley, the service tracks to the shooting huts, allowed us to cover the miles quickly, and in no time at all we crossed the road leading down to Lofthouse.

A short climb led us up to a quick, fast descent. The water gutters, or speed bumps, gave us some jump options as we regrouped after a our speedy cruise.

A little pedal, put us at the top of our final descent back down to Ramsgill. This was the highlight of the day, loose rocks, with some little drops lead us down, the only thing that slowed the flow was the three gates, but we were soon spat out at the bottom.

We had two, options, get on the road and get back to the van quick, or head along the other side of Gouthwaite Reservoir on the muddy farmers track. Being mountain bikers, it had to be the latter option, so we braved the mud and headed out on the track.

Stuart, showed off his Ninja Warrior skills, opening a waterlogged gate by keeping his feet dry. The let down was when he came to close it with a half hearted slam, not quite catching the latch. Martin volunteered to brave the pond and close the gate.

Once hitting the road, we cruised in to Pateley Bridge, just in time for a brew before the cafe closed.

Gatescarth & Nan Bield

Been off the bike for a while now, I have done the odd ride but nothing significant to update this blog and if it were it might have been published in some other online magazine.
There are a few reasons why, the main one being building up my photography business.
I have been photographing many mountain bike races, as well as other outdoor sports and lots of landscapes.
In September I took a trip to Iceland, and god I wished I had my bike, the place looks amazing for riding, at least there is an excuse to go back, with the camera and bike next time!

Selfie under Gljufrabui waterfall in Iceland.

A few trips are planned this year, Scotland, Morocco and the coast to coast so it's time to get back in the hills on my rare spare weekends.

First 'proper' trip of the year was planned for Gatescarth and Nan Bield in the Lakes. With a couple of new riding buddies in tow, I thought it was the perfect introduction to steep, natural trails.
We set off early from Leeds and were parked up near the church in Kentmere around 9am. A few minutes later and we were climbing out of the village on tarmac.
With the temperature reading on the van at -2C, everyone wrapped up, but by the time we headed off road at Stile End, the layers were being removed.
The climb continued on a good landrover track, until we reached the first descent down to Sadgill.
After a few gates and steep rocky sections we were soon down in the valley with the prospect of Gatescarth pass ahead of us.
Seats back at full extent and suspension locked we headed on up. The track was good and ride-able for most of it, until the stream turned to a waterfall and we had to push.
The temperature dropped with every wheel turn as we got higher, until Haweswater was revealed and a trail that looked like a white ribbon laying across the hillside leading us down.

Top of Gatescarth Pass.

The trail was icy and loose rocks the size of small dogs barked at our frames and ankles, but we were soon down to the first gate. Luckily everyone knew the unwritten rule of, who opens it, closes it and between the four of us we managed to get down in no time at all.
Down at the head of Haweswater, Jonny was hoping for a toilet, for obvious reasons and Stuart was hoping for a shop. He found out his Camelbak had leaked all over the back of my van and was out of water for the next climb.

As expected, there was nothing but cars and camper vans in the car park, meaning Jonny would have to squeeze a little harder and Stu was sharing my water.

We didn't waste anytime in the valley and followed the sign for Nan Bield. The riding was short and bikes were soon on our back for the hike-a-bike all the way up.
The surrounding fells closed claustrophobically around us, as we decided to take a lunch break at Small Water. The tarn looked cold and uninviting at this time of year.
Bikes on our backs again, we slogged up the final steep slope to the wind shelter at the top.

The first section was steep, technical and rocky with switchbacks tighter than Jonny's arse, I did manage to clear it with just a couple of dabs until I reached the bottom, relaxed and had an over the bars moment, ooops. Luckily no one saw it, so it doesn't count..... right?!
After re-grouping, we got back on the now slightly tamer trail.
A few grassy sections, offered a perfect chance to show off our skidding ability and just one more steep rocky section was all that stood in our way.

After reaching the bottom, I noticed my gear shifter had locked up, luckily it was locked in 1st so it could have been worse. At least I could manage the last few small climbs back to the road that led us out of Kentmere.
After reaching the road, it was just a swift, sharp climb back to the van. Quick change of clothes, giving the ramblers something to look at and we were on our way back to Yorkshire.