Out on two feet, instead of two wheels

There I was again, near the bottom of a scrambling route in the Cuillin finding it hard. I'd already asked Paddy for the rope but it hadn't made climbing the little groove thing any easier apart from the feeling that I should have been safe had I slipped. Not that I wanted to test that theory out.
Maybe I should back up a bit. That might have helped in the groove too. I was on holiday on Skye and had booked a day out with Paddy McGuire for some scrambling "fun" in the hills. I'd say it is an annual thing but in this case I hadn't been out for 2 years. The weather also wasn't helping. I had also been totally unprepared for the glorious weather. The forecast had not been favourable; the best thing had been the suggestion that the wind wouldn't be bad but it had mentioned rain pretty much all day. So you can imagine my surprise when I turned the corner on the road to see all the Cuillin out in front of me, pretty as a picture. I didn't have much of a clue of things to suggest to do as I had been concentrating on bad weather concepts. I was also aware that it had been horribly wet, not even 24 hours before, so some things were likely to still be wet. Paddy suggested the north west ridge of Sgurr a Mhadaidh and I'd agreed. The route should be pleasant and short, good if the weather turned for the worse.

Waterfall on the way into the ridge

Having driven down Glen Brittle and geared up, a walk up through Coire a Ghreadaidh saw us both decide we had the wrong clothes on as we got uncomfortably warm in the sun. I think we must have been motoring as we overtook one party, older, and stayed in front of another, younger and more determined looking. In what seemed like good time we were putting on harnesses and helmets right underneath the face of Mhadaidh. Getting on to the ridge looked like it might be interesting but, in fact when we moved off, a little ledge (somewhat like Collies ledge) took us easily to the crest. Then after a couple of minutes along a pleasant ridge we came to the groove.

Taken from the walk in, our objective was the little ridge above the waterfall on the skyline

Paddy took his time up it but still made it look easy. Getting into the bottom of it I instantly realised I was back to square one as far as dealing with the exposure. I was all too aware of the space behind me. This was where I asked for the security of the rope. Bouyed by the connection to Paddy I started to climb. I could feel that the slabby walls forming groove were still damp from the rain the day before. No great encouragement there then. I inched my way up, not finding the holds that Paddy had used or, at least, not trusting them the way he did. The groove had a nasty end. It was topped with some rocks making difficult to exit. Eventually, with a little natty rope work to allow me to move to the right, I got my feet high enough to work my way around one of the restricting rocks and back onto the crest of the ridge.
That success gave me some confidence and although we used the easier line until the next unavoidable step in the ridge I began to feel better about scrambling again. Drying rock also helped. At the next difficulty Paddy went ahead again with the rope and I waited until he said I was safe to climb. And this time I made a much better fist of it. I even enjoyed it. And it was just a little later on that I noticed we weren't taking in a little bit of ridge which would involve some more technical scrambling. I suggested we might. And, even though Paddy asked me to put the rope on again (quite rightly - it was no place to fall), I enjoyed the wee slab to conquer this part. The drops were now considerable on one side and no less intimidating on the other. However, it was just a few short steps to the junction of face and ridge which marked the end of the difficulties.

I'm happy now. Good photo by Paddy.

Paddy wrapped the rope around him in case I needed it later and we scrambled our way to the summit of the Cuillin's lowest Munro, Sgurr a Mhadaidh. I had asked Paddy if we could also take in Sgurr a Ghreadaidh as it seemed a shame to put in the effort and not do it, given the weather. So we descended to An Dorus from where I was talked up the first few feet of the north ridge of Ghreadaidh, where the main problem lies.  It's easy really but you have to make a coming move from a small foothold that's difficult to see once you have secured your hands to make the step up. As ever, it's good to have the reassurance that climbing with a guide gives.
The ridge up from here was not much more of a walk and we chatted our way up the slabs and boulders. Chatting is the main thing that occurs when I'm out with Paddy; fitness from cycling helps here as I'm rarely so badly out of breath that I can't talk. The main cause of energy burn on these days is from my nerves. Whilst I love these days there's a fair amount of trepidation involved and I don't find it an easy experience. Climbing past The Wart (a surreal feature on the ridge) brought us, in fairly quick time, close to the summit of the hill. As the summit was small and fairly crowded we sat just down from it for a very welcome lunch. Paddy was not impressed with the idea of a Marmite, cheese, salami and jam sandwich and although I wasn't actually having one, they are very nice.
The views from our lunch spot were great. Down over Loch Coruisk and onward to Blabheinn; the day was glorious. The sun had teased some moisture from the hills creating curtains of clouds hanging on one side of the ridge or the other creating an other worldly look to some of the hills. Soon enough, though, it was time to move on.
In hindsight I should probably have accepted that this was the end of the day and we should have gone down by the same route to an Dorus  followed by the scree shoot down and back to the coire that we had come up. But I was hungry for more and so I said yes to the offer of pushing on along the ridge to Sgurr na Banachdich.

Loch Coruisk

I wasn't to realise this until later though so, for the moment, I revelled in the scramble along to Ghreadaidh's south top often, but mistakenly, thought to look higher than the main peak. My very first time out with Paddy had seen us do this route the other way around, from Banachdich to Mhadaidh (without the tricky ridge we'd come up) but we'd missed out the south top so this was a lovely addition. On the scramble down from this we saw the remains of a volcanic vent with all the little bits of rock jammed together showing a cracked surface. The rocks of the Cuillin are fascinating.

The view south from Ghreadaidh 

The last scrambling of the day came as we climbed, and descended, the three teeth and the peak of Sgurr Thormaid before ascending the scree to the shoulder before the top of Sgurr na Banachdich. It was here that I began to worry. My legs were starting to feel tired and the muscles starting to ache, just a little. Signs of things to come I thought.

Thormaid and the Teeth 

We dropped our sacks and made the 5 minute journey to the summit of our third Munro of the day. Once again the views were tremendous. It's an odd top, the summit of Banachdich. It's a relatively easy walk to get there although it is over punishing steep scree (more of which later) but the top sits right on the edge of the precipitously steep East face. It is wise not to run up to the summit cairn!
All too soon we left the cairn and headed down to our sacks and on to the descent. We met some people still making the ascent and I tried to be encouraging. We were now following the younger group from the moning's coire tramp as they had used the An Dorus approach which is quicker and easier than our route. I had hoped we might catch and overtake them. Paddy would have, with ease, but it was on this steep and, seemingly, never ending scree that my legs pretty much gave way. The problem with hillwalking is that the only exercise that gets you fit for it is hillwalking. And I hadn't done this kind of walking for 2 years. So despite being fit and cycling strong my legs were not happy. Particularly, my over used and abused quads. For a wee while all I could do was stumble down a few yards, catch myself and then repeat the exercise. I'm sure Paddy noticed as I'm sure I went quiet, not a usual state of affairs. However it was better, if not good, once we finally made it to the lush grass and then the main path. And, at last, we made it back to the van. I have to say that climbing in, and out, of the van was not easy.

Just before the road this waterfall caught my eye. I may have needed a sit down.

It was still a great day and made so by the great company, patience and professionalism that Paddy brings to his job. So thanks, again, to him.

Postscript 

It took my legs a good while to recover, but a day off, some golf and then some tandem riding did the trick.

Extending the boundaries

With riding tandem sportives, helping friends achieve century ambitions and learning to ride a recumbent (all subjects for unwritten blog posts - sorry) the opportunities for a long bike ride on the road bike have been few and far between this year. Also I haven't been too convinced about how my hands would hold up. However, after doing some longer rides on the tandem I felt they would surely be ok on the lighter, and easier to ride, road bike so I decided to go and see. My personal record for distance of 140 miles had stood for a couple of year and I still have a hankering to do a double century but I thought I'd just see what 150 felt like first.

As I also like to commit myself in these long rides (it makes it harder to quit if you have to ride back) I plotted a route to take me from St. Andrews north to Pitlochry and then home by following the Tay to Perth before popping back into Fife, skirting the Lomonds before, finally, riding on well trodden roads from Ladybank home. This path had the benefit of being lumpy for the first 75 miles or so and then much flatter for the rest. I'm not really into self imposed pain and suffering!

With a day taken off work and a decent enough weather forecast I got up at 4 a.m and managed to leave by 5. My plan was to get out of Fife, through Dundee and possibly even out of Blairgowrie before most people were up and about. The plan was working well, with little traffic and that peaceful early morning feeling. If you don't ride early in the morning, you really do miss a magical part of the day. I hadn't bargained on being stopped by a level crossing! But here I was at the bottom of the road to Longforgan waiting on the train to go by. All plans have their problems.

Once I got going again I was soon on the first real climb of the day. I had picked the easiest in the Sidlaws, Knapp. Nothing in the day, apart from the distance, was designed to challenge my bicycling ability. Knapp came and went and I headed towards the first unknown section of road, high above Abernyte. I was delighted to see the 40 mph speed limit signs with their "Cycling and walking friendly road" sub-sign. And, despite there being a fair amount of traffic on a back road before 8 a.m., I can honestly say that the road was fine. It went up a bit, but my get out of jail gearing just let me spin up to the top without strain.

A view from above Knapp

The descent was also very pleasant. I kept encouraging myself to coast. My Stoker would have been so proud. On a long bike ride I don't feel the extra speed you get by pushing on down these bits really makes any difference to the day. And you might as well save the energy. All too soon the exploration came to an end and I was back on roads I have ridden before, albeit in the other direction. This was just a brief encounter though and a sharp right hand junction took me on to the smallest road of the day. And almost spelled the end of my journey as me and the car coming the other way on the narrow hump backed bridge were both very surprised to see the other. They managed to give me enough room and I managed to slow down and steer into the very small gap. No harm done... After a section of interesting surface the road improved and I sneaked into the back of Coupar Angus. This was very much a feature of the ride; coming into places by unexpected roads where possible.

The sign for Coupar Angus on my way out....

From Coupar Angus there's a main road that runs straight to Blairgowrie, my next destination, but that's no fun. So over the bridge, over the River Isla, and then first right onto the back roads again. By this time farm traffic was definitely up and about and I had to make way for a tractor. Let's be honest, on my bike I'm the interloper on these roads. The fruit pickers (I assume it was fruit) were already up as well and I cruised by thankful for my day off work. Blairgowrie reacquainted me with town traffic and the sights and sounds of people starting their day. I'm sure they would have considered it mad that I'd already been up for over 4 hours and 3 of them had been on a bike! Blairgowrie merges with Rattray and it was here that I stopped at the local Scotmid to refill my water bottles and pick up something savoury to eat. I carry flapjacks and gels but after a few hours my body seems to demand savoury so that's what I buy. In this case a couple of mini pork pies. Yum! I usually share this bounty on rides like this with Vic, my wingman, but this time I got to eat one and save one for later.

The road from this first proper stop (I'm not talking about comfort stops here) was the bit of the ride I was dreading most. The pull over to Bridge of Cally takes a real grind of a hill first and then what I remembered as a really rough road down to the small hamlet. Well, the hill wasn't as bad as I had feared and the road surface has been repaired in a lot of places so, all in all, it wasn't too bad. The traffic on this section was still gnarly; the drivers clearly don't expect or appreciate the cyclist. At Bridge of Cally the road forks and, for the first time ever, I took the fork to take me to Pitlochry. I love the experience of a new road. No amount of viewing on Street View (and I had purposefully not done much this time) prepares you for the little lumps and bumps of the real thing. And this road was delightful. Up, down, left and right, cruising through the valley. I don't know why but I wasn't expecting it to be so agricultural. And so I soon (or not, time is funny on a bike) came to Kirkmichael.

Kirkmichael - getting there, this time on the way in

The view from just off the road. Those clouds to the left would bring rain

Here was another junction, this time the road split between a choice of Pitlochry or turning back to Glen Shee. It's a road for another time. And I kept on to Pitlochry. The valley starts to close in here but the pass isn't obvious until the road starts to climb and turn a little under the south flanks of Ben Vrackie. The pass is more like a little plateau and you actually end up climbing a second little rise before the descent begins. It was on the crest of the first climb that I had to stop and put my jacket on to shield me from the shower that had developed into something a little more like summer rain.

Unfortunately this meant that the steep road down was wet and a little slippery. Not knowing it certainly didn't help, nor did the road surface in places. A long way down, in Pitlochry itself, I actually stopped at the top of a wet and very steep looking slope before taking the turning on my right and going down an easier slope. This had the unfortunate side effect of bringing me out deeper into Pitlochry's main street where I suffered my only really bad bit of driving all day. Why drivers feel the need to squeeze past when nothing is travelling very fast I have no idea. But there it is. Luckily no harm was done.

I negotiated my way out of the metropolis and onto the small road to Logierait. Here I had to stop when I realised my computers (don't ask - call it redundancy) were not registering the speed from the sensor. This has an onward effect of not recording distance, or at least not displaying it so I needed to see if it was a wee blip or whether I would have to stop using the sensor and switch to GPS reckoning. My problem with this would have been two fold: it's not that accurate in trees, and I would have lost my cadence data. On a long ride like this I can really manage my heart rate by managing my cadence (not letting it get stupidly high) and that has a knock on effect to my ease of completion. I'd given up hope before "just giving it one more try" to find that it worked just fine. I was back on my way and happy. The road to Logierait is narrow and I found the verges somewhat overgrown. I was lucky not to meet much traffic on it I think and I made it to the end quickly enough.

The way onwards from here went across a bridge with wooden planks to meet up with a bigger road on the west side of the glen. The A9 runs down the other side and is not the choice for bikes. I had an uneventful ride down this section of road until an insect managed to get in behind my glasses. I still don't know what it was but it stung or bit me between my eyebrow and eyelid and for a while I was little worried that I would end up with a swollen eye and only be able to see out of the other one. It wasn't to be and I soon regained my slightly flawed binocular vision. During this time a tandem went the other way but I wasn't able to give them the greeting they deserved. A shame, as I saw very few cyclists all day.

My next adventure focused on the problem of crossing the A9 and getting down to Dunkeld. As I was using this part of the trip as a scouting mission I decided to take the Sustrans route. Hah! I had been told by friends that a road bike is not the ideal bike to do this bit on. They are quite correct. It's not impossible as I, and they, have proved but it's far from ideal. From the west side the path (I'm not calling it a cycle way) is joined by riding along the pavement on a bridge before turning off and underneath the bridge. This part is on a dirt Landrover track. With many potholes. From there you continue on, now on a double rut forest track. I was lucky enough to meet 4 walkers, of a certain vintage, who took a while to realise I was there despite ever louder calls of "Excuse me". On a track better suited for cross bikes or mountain bikes, with an alarming drop to the river at one point but no objective danger though as the track is wide you eventually come out at some sign of civilisation beside the river with more parked cars, fishermen and a sandy surface beside a wooden fence. The surface just wants to grab your front wheel. Steering or braking is not advised. Both nearly had me off. I stopped for some trophy photos before heading off. Gingerly.

The "beach"

Fishermen and the River Tay

The track "improves" and is made up of some kind of tiled surface. I was just glad not to get my tyres caught. Eventually a sign takes you to the tarmac of the private road into the small town of Dunkeld. Passing a car doing an interesting three point turn in a junction, whose driver clearly didn't want to stop to let me go by, I was more than happy to ride over the bridge and see the turning to Birnham and my lunch stop. It's not the first time I've stopped at the Birnham Arts Centre and I doubt it will be the last. Good food, good coffee and staff willing to fill my water bottles. You can't really ask for much more. I was a little early for lunch so I plumped for two rolls, one bacon and one sausage. Very nice.... While I was inside it rained, so I even missed a bit of a soaking. I'm not sure my bike though that was so great though. The exit out of Birnham also requires a choice of how to cross back over the A9. I chose the Sustrans route again; I've used it before and it's ok. A lot better than the one I'd just done into Dunkeld.

Back on the road proper again I was also back to familiar roads. I can't say I've ridden them a lot but I've ridden this section a couple of times in the last year or so, so I'm becoming comfortable with it. A small climb starts just outside Birnham but one over the top, you have the relatively flat plains of Perthshire as your playground. I took a turn to the east as soon as I had got to the top of the climb and headed out to Murthly. Here I got the unexpected pleasure of thanking a Sainsburys van driver in person for his courtesy as he waited a long time to pass me, and then was pulled up to make his next delivery a wee bit up the road. He seemed stunned but I wanted to say it. So often we talk about the bad drivers, it makes a change to give some thanks. Leaving him behind (I expected him to pass again, but I guess he turned and went back west and south) I headed towards my turn point, just short of the River Isla. Here I turned southwest to go to Perth and it was here that I began to feel the ministrations of the west, south west breeze that had been blowing all day. I rolled through Stanley and my century milestone. And then the few miles down the road to Luncarty. I was clearly nearing a bigger town as the amount of traffic was beginning to increase. Most of the drivers were fine and I had no really bad experiences as I headed once more towards the A9. Here I got to do my last piece of exploration for the day when I took a little road out of Luncarty (dead end - apart for cyclists). This got ever narrower before a bridge took me over the railway line and to the main road. There's a super cycle path here. Although close to this major road it's not beside you as such and it's a nice flat way into the edge of Perth.

The Perth cycle way. Roots one - rear light nil. The reason for the stop.

The downside is the little bit of fiddling you have to do at the end; going down and under the road on a very dark track (even in the daylight) before you pop out on a small road. You then need to find the next turning back onto the main cycleway that take you to the North Inch in Perth. This was hidden for me by a well placed car but I saw it after I turned around. Then it was onto the lovely track round the edge of Perth. This track is scenic and reduces the negotiation of Perth's traffic to a minimum. This time round I found the correct exit for Dundee (where I was going, very loosely). A little bit of playing with the cars and using the advanced cycle boxes to my advantage saw me through Perth without too much trouble. This marked the end of my flat lands, at least for the time being. The pull out of Perth is quite steep and coming out of town requires a move to the right hand lane on a dual carriageway. I was lucky with the traffic and feeling strong enough to deal with the hill, albeit at a nice slow pace. Then the road drops again all the way to Bridge of Earn.

Here I had a choice; a sit down coffee at the Brig Farm coffee or a quicker refill at the Co-op in the village. I wasn't feeling the need for the full sit down treatment. So filling the bottles myself, a quick remix of energy drink and then the treat of salted peanuts with caramel bits. That stuff is good. I must remind myself never to have it unless I'm on a big bike ride. The calories must be huge!

I now faced my last real challenge. The plan was to ride through Glenfarg. But this is a little climb and I wasn't looking forward to it that much. Or getting to the bottom of it either. So many times that little bit of road has hurt me on other trips. This time, however, it went fine and I approached the climb happily enough. Low gear, low speed, just get to the top. It was here I had my only spaced out moment of the day. I was completely convinced I was past the landmark of the Bein Inn when I came upon it. Weird. It knocked me a little as I had been so sure. A little bit more concentration and a reminder not to lose the plot saw me to the top and the houses of Glenfarg. A very gradual climb from here takes you towards Kinross and Loch Leven. Coming out of some tree lined shelter up above this sight I was suddenly caught in a little squall. I dropped several gears, thought about my jacket, decided no, and headed down the hill a little.

I was moving away from the towns again and heading towards Balgeddie and my turn point. From heading mostly south I was now going to switch my attention to going east. And I was hoping that the wind was truly from the west. Because if it was I was going to have that helping hand most of the way home. One last pull saw me turned and heading up to the top of the Dryside road. The surface here is interesting in either direction, and with 120 miles in the legs and hands I felt every bump. But not in a tired way; I just knew I'd been out for a while. I passed a family of tourists (Americans I think) stopped beside the road. I was able to confirm to them that they were on the right road for Falkland before heading away on my own adventure.

West Lomond from Dryside

The view north west from the same spot

Down Dryside was a blast and I managed to avoid the potholes as well as you can on this road, which is mostly ok, but definitely has it's moments. Strathmiglo came and went. The little bit of "big" road had me concerned from a traffic point of view and, again, I've had some low moments there but I made it to the turn off for the little farm road with no incidents. In fact when I signalled left the car behind me just waited until I had turned without overtaking me. Nice! This farm road is one of those great cut-throughs, delivering me into Dunshalt where I got to turn off onto another small road that leds to Freuchie. I was flying now, or at least I wasn't hanging about. Flat roads, known roads, wind behind and heading down into the 20s on my internal countdown. Crossing to two bigger roads and into Ladybank proved no trouble apart from the first junction where from what I can tell there is no road surface. Not so nice.

After Ladybank a cruise along a back road, a junction, a level crossing and then into the private road of the Rankeilour estate. The barrier was down which gave me an excuse to get off and take a picture or two before heading on. A little rise and then back to the public road and into Springfield. Here, for the last time but not the first, my rear light popped off when I went over a bump. Luckily neither of the cars, I had to wait for before picking it up, ran over it. I broke it later when my bike fell over in my drive. Sigh.

Rankeilour stop

It was around now that I realised that I was going to arrive in Cupar around rush hour (rush ten minutes really). Should I stop or should I just push on? I knew I was a little tired. A little tired means a little less tolerant and the driving up the main road from Cupar to Pitscottie is not always the best. Don't ask me why. If you've read this far, then like me, you'll just push on. Stopping now is not an option. The car driving was ok. Even the cab-only HGV that went past. And I rolled in and through Pitscottie with a quick wave to my bike shop of the moment, Two Wheel Care.

The last part of the day required cycling over the little ramps out of Pitscottie and up to Blebo. I've done them many times and this time was just another trip. Not hard, not easy, just there. The wind direction definitely helped here. What I'd have felt like slogging these last miles into an easterly I do not know. I was just glad I didn't have to find out. I had just enough energy left to make some effort for speed on the run home. Then it was into the edge of town, then the usual pothole avoidance before finally arriving at the Whey Pat, my ride's start and destination, 12 hours, 17 minutes and 16 seconds after I'd left.

The little way back home was easy enough but the climb up the mountain that makes up the approach to my home street was definitely there and not a molehill as it sometimes is. I arrived back home, happy, content and, maybe, just maybe, a little tired. A good day.

Reflections

A day later and, perhaps, it hasn't quite sunk in. To be honest I found the ride pretty easy. I planned it (not a lot) and went and did it. That's in part thanks to the time I spend on bikes, in part thanks to good route selection, in part thanks to ok weather and in part thanks to sheer bloody mindedness. But it really wasn't a struggle, or hard. It was just a ride.

And because I did it on my own I don't have the shared experience with someone else. So there's no reflected glory or a feeling of a team victory. So, in that sense, I'm much more proud of the rides I've done recently where I feel I've helped others achieve their goals.

Maybe it's just post event blues. Next, please, bring it on.....

The ride

Another learning experience

As anyone who has read this blog knows I have had issues with Carpal Tunnel Syndrome. This has led to me riding my trike which is great fun but a little slow and, for me, not really the road bike replacement that I was looking for. There is, as ever, another solution. It comes in the form of a two wheeled recumbent bicycle. Unlike "normal" diamond frame bikes there are a multitude of different types. Feel free to use the internet to see them all.
For the purposes of this post suffice it to say that David at Laid Back Bikes in Edinburgh did another great job of helping me choose one to buy. Here it is in all its glory in David's shop.

Hmm, it looks the business...

And one of me on it, on the day I picked it up. I'm not looking very confident....

.... maybe not with me on it though

It's a mid-racer, somewhere between a low-racer and a high-racer but has the advantage of twin 700c wheels, just like my road bike. So is should roll more easily, and maybe more comfortably, than the trike over our less than perfect roads. It is also lighter. The loss of the third wheel, though, does lead to a lack of stability as you might imagine. I could, so easily, have called this post "Learning to ride".

First steps

I bought the bike on trust really. Despite his help David had only managed to get me to wobble a little way on a recumbent under my own steam and that with a good push to start and him running up the road behind me. It must look odd, but I guess he's used to it as are the inhabitants of Edinburgh near his shop. He assured me that if I could do that then I could learn to ride. So I picked the bike up in December and brought it back to my garage.
I put it on the turbo (another advantage of the wheels and configuration) and found the space between the odd looking bars less spacious than the term "open cockpit" would suggest. Either that or I have enormous thighs. A distinct possibility that. A bit of fiddling gave me enough space between the cables and gear shifters to actually pedal and I was happy. Then the bike sat in the garage for a while until the weather was better.
Eventually in February I could put it off no longer and the contraption had to come out of the garage or I was never going to try it. It's not easy. The pedals are a long way off the ground and convincing myself to get even one up there while freewheeling the bike down the slightest of slopes was difficult enough. Actually, freewheeling the bike down that slope was hard enough to start. I did manage on that first day to get both feet on the pedals, after stabilising a freewheel start, and I did achieve a few revolutions of those pedals. It's been a while since I've been so happy with such a minor success.
Next time out it was more of the same, roll down the slope, try to pedal some revolutions and then walk the bike back up again. Then, as it was quiet, I decided to turn out of the junction and go around the block. Wobbly! I got some odd looks from some pedestrians but, hey, I'm used to those from the tandem and the trike. Twice round the block had me feeling like a recumbent rider. The only issue was that I couldn't start the bike from stationary. I needed a slight slope to get me going first.

Starting

Next time out I made the concious effort to attempt starts. And, in the end, I managed it. It's rather like the tandem. You need to commit and take your hands off the brakes. Simple really but oh so difficult to do. Unlike the tandem (and other upright bikes) you do need to be very careful about the gear you are in. Too easy a gear and you can't get enough speed into the bike to get rolling and too hard a gear and you can't get the wheels turning easily enough. I'm sure the range of starting gears will increase as I get better at it.
This time I went around the block a few more times and had to deal with traffic. That's something that's still quite scary although as I get more confident and have more control it is becoming better. I'd still like more space though. Even more on this bike as it is easier to wobble a bit and less easy to bring it back. There's less ability to use your whole body as a steering mechanism.

Improving

I'm not going to take you through all my baby steps rides - you can find them in the Strava links below. I am improving and, after commuting to work one day (traffic fun), I have now ridden the bike up to Strathkinness and back a couple of times (changing gear and everything). Out on the big roads as I say. It's easier there in some ways. Fewer junctions, fewer cars and other distractions (I nearly crashed once when I got sidetracked by a pedestrian) all lead to being able to just ride. Of course the downside is that the traffic there is, is generally going faster. The two rides to Strath do indicate a certain amount of speed is attainable on this bike. So it is definitely a contender as a replacement road machine. I'll do my best to keep you posted. In the meantime here's a picture of the bike at the turnaround in Strathkinness.

Wow! I rode it to here!

Our first Tandem Sportive

Oh dear, this was written and not posted quite a while ago. I'm way behind in my stories of my cycling. So, in an effort to catch up here's the first of a quick few (hopefully) discussing last years efforts.

It's funny how things come about. We did a cafe ride not so long ago and after that I ended up trying to persuade our friend Carole to do a longer sportive. Realising that it is sometimes difficult to tackle challenges on your own I suggested to the Stoker that we could do one with her. "No problem" was the reply.
Now, the sportive I was suggesting was the excellent No Fuss Lord of the Loch's event. Last year I did the Elite course over 112 miles and had enjoyed the day (mostly). This year they had decided to put on a third course; an out and back route which promised to be pretty flat for its 100 km. The only issue for The Stoker, as a sportive virgin, was the distance from home. So, before we committed it was suggested that we might try one closer to home. And, so we ended up doing MAF's Perthshire 50 mile challenge as a try out.

Perthshire 50 Mile Challenge

Starting and finishing from Perth Airfield near Scone this event was much closer to home. Not even an hour by car as it turned out. The day was well organised and when we arrived we were instructed where to park and then where to assemble for registration and the off. The event was timed using chips on our helmets so we both had one. This was to prove interesting later.
Once we were ready we got in a group ready to go. I put us at the back so our start, which is always slightly more interesting that a single bike, wouldn't cause anyone else any issues. Unfortunately this meant we were slow off the blocks thanks to the chap who couldn't get his cleat in. I felt for him, as we waited. We shimmied through the airfield roads to the exit and the main road. Thankfully it was clear and we all got out ok. Our fellow starters eased away from us as the road went gently uphill, then we caught a few on the downhill that followed and passed a couple more on the next up and that was it; we were on our own.
It is slightly surreal riding in an event and not really cycling with anyone. My friend Andy had also entered but was slightly late arriving. He had said he would catch us up but I knew it wouldn't be anytime soon. So there we were, like it was any other ride, just pedalling along on our own. We soon left one main road, traversed some smaller roads and then popped out on the main Perth to Blairgowrie road not far from the bridge over the River Isla and some traffic lights. Over that and turn left to start heading towards Dunkeld.
Another bridge, this time over the Tay, and back onto quiet roads slightly damp from the rain the previous day and overnight. Singles and pairs overtook us, often with a wee look of surprise and a little comment about the tandem. No insinuation that the one at the back wasn't pedalling thankfully. It's a joke that gets a little stale. Through Murthly (check out the garage for future visits), over the Tay again and onto Caputh where we would meet the main Dunkeld to Coupar Angus road.
Before we met the road though we were overtaken by the COG Velo boys complete with my pals Jimmy and Nico. They were fast. "Clear" was the call to us at the junction. Only just in my opinion. I think they forgot that we were doing about 10mph and they were doing considerably more. All safe though and we headed towards Dunkeld.
Only the 50 mile route went through Dunkeld with its tourist buses, cars and pedestrians; the 100 mile route goes west here. Lucky them. Roads that narrow weren't really made for the current transport idols. Especially so if there is a tandem trying to make its way through too. We emerged unscathed at the other end and drew some admiring glances and comments from a group of girls who looked like they were off for a serious bit of hiking.
And then the only slightly worrying part of the day from a performance point of view; the climb out of Dunkeld on the road to Blairgowrie. It's not that steep but it's steep enough. So granny gear selected and spin, spin, spin. About a third of the way up our efforts were interrupted by Andy who had finally caught us up. He was riding with some others so I told him to carry on and we would see him later. We did, back at the finishing line! The top came soon enough, although it did go on a bit which was a bit of a shame and then it was time to enjoy some "whee". The descent was bendy but no to bad and we made a good fist of carrying some speed down on to the flatter section that followed.
We rolled along, up and down until we came to the feed stop, some 5 miles short of Blairgowrie. We were both welcome of the break. I don't supposed I needed a cheese roll but it was lovely. We did need to refill one of our bottles and this was done with the water provided. It's this aspect that makes sportives so appealing. You know (with some certainty) that you're not going to have to go hunting for water, extra food etc. And that does make a difference to the overall time and reduces the chance of falling out of the rhythm of riding.
At least it should. Starting off was a little tricky, just because of the position of the feed stop. It was on a shallow bend and we couldn't quite see in both directions. Because of our relatively slow starts it's nice to know all is clear. The marshals helped us out and we went to start off. Except we didn't and I only saved us from a nasty fall by putting a hand on one of the marshal's car's bonnet. We got it right second time around and off we went. Embarrassed? No, no not at all.
Arriving in Blairgowrie with the ignominy still in my mind I made the decision that we would walk across the big T-junction. Especially as we hadn't come to a good stop and The Stoker's feet had both come out of their pedals. My fault, all my fault. The main road we were about to turn right into was busy and, with the incongruous start at the feed stop we decided that discretion was the better part of valour here, so we got off and pushed the bike across the junction.
Setting off this time of course was much easier and we headed down the main road from Blaigowrie to Perth. This was a part of the route I wasn't really looking forward to; it was bound to be busy and, in the past, I've found drivers on this wide carriageway to be impatient and not good at giving space. In this direction though we did have the advantage of it being mostly downhill and we made good time back to the bridge over the River Isla. And we had done it without much incident either. Not all the traffic was good but the majority were ok and I was glad not to have a Stoker worried for their continued existence.
We did have some fun crossing the bridge, however. The road is single track and light controlled. Unfortunately we had arrived just as the lights went red, which meant we were at the head of the queue. And the driver behind us wasn't for waiting, not even for the ambulance that arrived as the lights were changing. We waited and then felt it was our turn once it had a passed us. Apparently not, especially as the lights were turning again and the car barged by. Cue annoyed pilot and Stoker. Still, we were across, and shortly after the route turned off the main road and headed towards Woodside!
Not our usual Woodside but the one in Angus. This whole section, through Woodside, Campmuir, Saucher and Kinrossie can best be described as gently uphill. Which meant that for us on the tandem it dragged, no matter how scenic it was. Especially so, since after Campmuir, we were back into the breeze. It was around here (around the 40 mile mark) that I felt the Stoker beginning to tire. I didn't blame them, especially not on this section. It was hard work. I'd come prepared though and started compensate a little. I can't do this forever but as I knew the end was pretty much in sight I had no qualms. Tandem riding is a team effort after all.
One last push saw us into Kinrossie and then the backroad to Balbeggie where we had some fun getting the bike up to speed. We even did a little coasting. Sadly the main road back from Balbeggie to the airfield was a little more lumpy than I would have liked but the end came more quickly than I realised it would with the Garmin only giving us 49 miles. We were robbed! The one great consolation to it all was that we beat the rain in. We had seen the big grey clouds massing to the west all the way back from Blairgowrie and I was glad we didn't have that to contend with too.
Just after we had come over the finish line my phone alerted saying it had two texts and once we had come to a stop I checked them out. It was our times for the event. Both had come to my phone as I had entered us both and just used my contact details. Technology is an amazing thing. The funny part was that the Stoker's time was 8 seconds longer than mine. That's some length of tandem! I don't know how it happened. I'm assuming that their chip got tagged at the start before mine did.
Our friend Andy had waited for us to arrive back (terribly nice of him) so we stood in the field and had a cup of something warm along with a very nice roll. The event was superbly managed and we loved taking part. There was no way we were not going to go to the Lord of the Lochs Sportive now!

The Ride