Prologue
The Event
Having scoped various bits of this ride I knew the little Scotmid store would be open for us to fill our water bottles and have the first wee break of the day. What I didn't count on was the small group of local revellers who had obviously been out all night. I'm sure that to a bystander the juxtaposition of three lycra clad cyclists and 4 or 5 party animals in their glad rags would have been highly amusing. Mostly we felt it was time for us to move on.
Coming out of Blairgowrie was the first tricky part of the day. It's a steep bit of road and it is just a little long to be called a ramp. I didn't remember it being so hard and the fact that my companions were obviously finding it ok was a bit demoralising. Memories of getting off on the hill to the ski centre were high in my mind already and I had no desire to repeat that experience here, or there later on for that matter.
Over the hill and then into the endless rise, fall, rise again of the road up to the Spittal of Glenshee. Having been there before I had the advantage over The Groover who wondered occasionally why we weren't speeding along a little flat bit. "Energy conservation, that's what" said I as we turned a corner to find another steep, nasty, little ramp. And so we rolled.
We reached the Spittal in one piece despite the attentions of a black Audi who appeared to want to drive us off the road. We had a lovely sensation of schadenfruede when we passed it a little while later, stopped in a layby with someone peering anxiously at the front end. They passed us again but with much more care. The Spittal also had the unnerving sight of the burnt down hotel. Less place of refuge and more place needing love and care foisted upon it.
And then the road turns and you can see the glen and the pass at the end. Actually you can't see the pass, just a road winding it's way up a hillside and going round a ridge. But you know the pass is there, honest. I didn't remember the way up from here being so lumpy and I was desperately trying to save all the energy I could for the exertions to follow. Eventually we got to the bottom of the main hill, and the target for the day. This was the itch I needed to scratch. An attempt to regain some self respect. The last time I had climbed off with about 200 yards to go. That time I hadn't had company but I also hadn't cycled from home either. Here's the view.
Even better was the short drop to the ski centre and the opportunity to get off and have some lunch. We were a little over half way at this point and the main objective for me was done. Maybe that celebration was a little premature but I was so delighted to have made it. Lunch was fun and the opportunity to grab some photos was also taken. It's always good to have some memories of the day.
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| Lunch - see the madness... |
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| The Groover - it felt like the top to us |
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| The shameless wheelsucker |
With lunch polished off it was time to have some fun. For me climbing is all about the going down. This is where the extra weight comes into play. And, apparently, the nerve to point the bike downhill and not touch the brakes. The ski centre is a little below the top of the climb so we needed to ride back to it. And then, up through the gears and very, very rapidly I spun my gears out. Spin and I leave The Groover behind as we whizz down the road. I did wonder what the motorcyclists thought as we hammered past the lay-by they are parked in. It's only when we got home and uploaded the data that I saw I had covered 0.9 miles at an average of 48.6 mph reaching a maximum of 52. Now that was fun.
We still had a fair amount of cycling to do before getting home though. Back down Glenshee we passed the Spittal again before turning off towards Glen Isla a few miles down the road. This is a perfect Scottish back road. Nice climbs, nice descents and scenery to die for. It's also pretty quiet. Just delightful.So far all the roads were known to me but after 5 miles or so we turned on to a new road. And it was here I began to suffer. I still don't know what did it. I just assume that I hadn't stuck enough calories in at some point between lunch and here. We started to climb again, and I must admit to not knowing about this climb. It's hard to pick out these little horrors when there's a monster peak right in the middle of the route. And I'd fallen into that trap. In all fairness I did realise just before the main section of climbing that I was low on energy and I had the sense to stick a gel in but it just didn't get there in time. With about 300 yards to go to the summit I called a halt. My companions did the honourable thing and also came to a halt. For my part I just stood over my bike and waited for some energy to come back. And it did, surprisingly quickly. Looking back at the data we only stopped for about 2 minutes. It still bothers me though. Setting off again, I asked the boys just to hang fire and let me see if I was actually ok. I was and we popped over the top together, albeit with them having no problem catching me up.
And then we were back into my terrain; mostly down! Again, there were stretches of great road, mostly good visibility and some fantastically quick corners. All of a sudden we were back out on bigger roads and we saw some other cyclists. We caught the two ladies up and chatted to them on the way up one of the little hills on this section of road. It was here we had a slight altercation with some pedestrians being picked up. They decided to (or just did) cross the road right in front of us. My real issue with this was their inability to think that we were coming down a steep hill and that we might be going quite fast. They wouldn't have stepped out in front of a car.
We had left the ladies behind as we rolled into Alyth, our next scheduled stop. Just a fill up at the shops this one. A chance to spend some time filling mouths, pockets and bottles. A break that gave us time to prepare for the next bit of road. The way home. The ladies passed us as we performed these actions. Being in front is temporary!
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| Refuelling |
And then the next challenge for me. The climb out of Newtyle isn't exactly long or steep but I had bad memories of it. Of me struggling up it and wondering what I was doing. I had voiced my concerns to the others and said I would be taking it easy. Which I did, at the beginning. And then, magically, I felt great and I accelerated up the slope. Just like the bit where I didn't have any energy I don't really know what happened here either. I just felt great. I got some ribbing from the boys.
I still felt strong enough at the top to chase after the tourers. Who we eventually overtook, not long before we turned off the main road to take the back road into Birkhill. The road here is ok but there is a little climb which isn't the most pleasant. And at the top as we joined the main road again, the tourers rolled past. Much grinning by everyone ensued.
From here it's a blast downhill into Dundee and, suddenly, lots of traffic. A quick jaunt into the business park and quiet roads again before finding the cycle path beside Riverside. It was here that we had a real scare. The Groover was out in front as Spin and I took it more easily and were chatting. The Groover suddenly realised that we weren't right behind him and, turning to see where we were, he momentarily lost control. He so nearly went over the barrier and onto the road. Frighteningly quickly the situation had gone from complete control to nearly none. He did, however, control it and managed to stay on the path and upright. I don't think any of us know how.
We rolled right into Dundee and reached the Tay Bridge. Spin had crossed this hours before on his way to the start. It was time for him to leave us and make his way home. We took the lift and made our way across the very much uphill bridge. We were both feeling quite strong so we took the slightly longer way home through Newport and St Michaels where we turned back towards Tayport and Tentsmuir Forest. The idea was to take the flat roads from here through Leuchars and Guardbridge before joining our second cycle path of the day for the run to St. Andrews.
But when it came to it, neither of us fancied the cycle path (I have a strong aversion to it) and we turned up the hill to Strathkinness. I did have some ulterior motives for all the mucking about in Fife. I really wanted to turn this ride into my longest ever and I wanted to get over the 140 mile mark. A nice round number. We came into town and I was still not convinced we would get the distance. So a little loop around the bus station and main road made sure. We rolled into the car park and The Groover's car was sitting there waiting. What a day.
I'm not sure you get much better than this on a bike. Great company, great fun, challenges overcome, what's not to like? For me I had two great domestiques and they had a shameless wheelsucker. I don't think I'd have made it otherwise.
