Friday, June 24, 2016

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






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