tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36312641771168502572024-03-19T11:48:58.597+00:00Shallow EcosseScotland, as enjoyed on foot and two wheels, by someone who refuses to 'find himself' or learn anything important along the way.Ianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12038546134695957686noreply@blogger.comBlogger8125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3631264177116850257.post-49791826221385857742011-04-25T23:04:00.015+01:002011-06-06T13:56:59.396+01:00Misadventures on the West Highland Way, Pt.2So, refreshed (or severely hungover) after a visit to the Kingshouse, we continue along the Way.<br /><br />Now though, we are entering hill country, and the climbs and descents just get bigger and better.<br /><br /><a name='more'></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Stage 6 - Kingshouse - Kinlochleven</span><br /><br />The section of the Way running from the Kingshouse to the foot of the Devil's Staircase is a fun wee section in its own right, steep and loose in places, in others an exercise in balance as you try to keep the wheels rolling smoothly over jumbled rocks and ruts.<br /><br />Its almost a shame then that this section is overshadowed (both figuratively and literally) by the history of its surroundings. To your left is the awesome presence of Buachaille Etive Mor, and the cliffs of Stob Dearg, where decades of Scottish Mountaineering history have been tentatively etched out on the looming faces.<br /><br />With time and legs to spare, Tom and I decided to stray from the Way and pay hommage to the hill close up, with a view to descending the climber's path that leads from the foot of the crags to the road.<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp0i3pB2kl582NZ5iOPCq0SQ4Dbw5SxeUWIvqd69TYlOnReskup2gFIVTgTzrvCrGtPnX-lW8nBINEdVtJuy9syDAIA9C3icKXktN9rn1k4fKIzIIybmSCxBoo635g9oiXhGShCN4K4pOC/s1600/IMG_0267.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp0i3pB2kl582NZ5iOPCq0SQ4Dbw5SxeUWIvqd69TYlOnReskup2gFIVTgTzrvCrGtPnX-lW8nBINEdVtJuy9syDAIA9C3icKXktN9rn1k4fKIzIIybmSCxBoo635g9oiXhGShCN4K4pOC/s400/IMG_0267.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599653138680825138" border="0" /></a>On our way we passed another small piece of history,<br />the famous (but also locked and private) bothy of Jacksonville.<br /><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVJ_PlRFjC3nH_NmG4HRFISPkJyVjdA7Ih9jxPM4x8ypvO16hc47An1qK__mWNaR4Okjwm2rpLSrGCD2XY7dYMT7pSg2EcSKbvJTOCG9r0LkRML-oCUgM9AQc1QiMxXA1ow1HBcl55G-XX/s1600/IMG_0272.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVJ_PlRFjC3nH_NmG4HRFISPkJyVjdA7Ih9jxPM4x8ypvO16hc47An1qK__mWNaR4Okjwm2rpLSrGCD2XY7dYMT7pSg2EcSKbvJTOCG9r0LkRML-oCUgM9AQc1QiMxXA1ow1HBcl55G-XX/s400/IMG_0272.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599653147402979378" border="0" /></a>It was then the brief matter of clambering up<br />the heathery slopes beneath the crags.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinb8k7tjv1YWUMUlobmcgp_HMuFzTTI3qdOVvPKBjYFv2yo2HAWvLIxKji1nEmDWKtpZBPbc6M8WB6XFLLjkliWR0WXLEk_bBfZ7fSqft4oA2VX_b02R5XlkwEbg4tR_VXAoFQnvirhW6e/s1600/IMG_0275.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinb8k7tjv1YWUMUlobmcgp_HMuFzTTI3qdOVvPKBjYFv2yo2HAWvLIxKji1nEmDWKtpZBPbc6M8WB6XFLLjkliWR0WXLEk_bBfZ7fSqft4oA2VX_b02R5XlkwEbg4tR_VXAoFQnvirhW6e/s400/IMG_0275.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599656717435508322" border="0" /></a>Tom negotiating the scree<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkA8kj8bk_Z2ilvGpPf6toMKsei7U7p9x5U11ANQ4re8bS3jhdYLjFtTgbeF4oNBRvqa5eKHyokGu0OYfDtdVKYSsl_M31qdACrhyv5xKu5Q1U1mkCL5oBcP_xNFgRqfiGsQ11Eb6OMw7Y/s1600/IMG_0277.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 316px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkA8kj8bk_Z2ilvGpPf6toMKsei7U7p9x5U11ANQ4re8bS3jhdYLjFtTgbeF4oNBRvqa5eKHyokGu0OYfDtdVKYSsl_M31qdACrhyv5xKu5Q1U1mkCL5oBcP_xNFgRqfiGsQ11Eb6OMw7Y/s400/IMG_0277.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599656721184411490" border="0" /></a>Me preparing to gracelessly negotiate one of<br />several waterbars<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgURuEh-fp_1IAsixyf0LwbfDvvdfAPul8PCnHCDah0cDbgvj0WPtYVqUmZg3xUbpTbZmywLEAbK-oCrD9sqXbPnoKnTNtJFHPkXPkfLTw-HX12lIDNJGn88YQduEaYynQOfijYV1MRphJm/s1600/IMG_0280.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgURuEh-fp_1IAsixyf0LwbfDvvdfAPul8PCnHCDah0cDbgvj0WPtYVqUmZg3xUbpTbZmywLEAbK-oCrD9sqXbPnoKnTNtJFHPkXPkfLTw-HX12lIDNJGn88YQduEaYynQOfijYV1MRphJm/s400/IMG_0280.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599656724402502690" border="0" /></a>It seems the best shots are the ones I'm not in, strange.<br />Tom making it out alive.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">This is not the point however to congratulate yourself, because in front of you rears the Devil's Staircase, a steepening series of loose rocky switchbacks, culminating in an epic view back towards Rannoch Moor, and forwards down towards Kinlochleven.<br /><br />The history surrounding this section of path is no less imposing than that of the crags on the Buachaille, however as so much of it relates to the building of the nearby Blackwater Dam, I will spare you that brief lecture till later.<br /><br />In the meantime, you will still be sweating your way up the Staircase.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj7pzXrChrxC2m_rZzTHQAx0s6ESo3E6q04VQPvPRLM07CbqUsQSnwrgoTIXY4CiToVWwie9ACqWzWsm6EZ-mrrRw2RlXkqBPP2pZtWL7PPZOqOILJghYs0UbOxCgTY120hR3GzZbDyy9-/s1600/IMG_0281.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj7pzXrChrxC2m_rZzTHQAx0s6ESo3E6q04VQPvPRLM07CbqUsQSnwrgoTIXY4CiToVWwie9ACqWzWsm6EZ-mrrRw2RlXkqBPP2pZtWL7PPZOqOILJghYs0UbOxCgTY120hR3GzZbDyy9-/s400/IMG_0281.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602613509490034562" border="0" /></a>Tom attempting to confirm if that<br />was a fish we saw or just a rock.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnwoX-xR_jCoTvaNbfijPrOEGE1KvlLOEvKvAp4ziI9lf6GFIoNnkwtKq4Lkv5DEuacUyhGEudG9e10klTG2RqNPQTwz7WkkYSIT86jsn4IUC6aVjEKEzjIm27dDy6QYzQw0aUd_8E9rVh/s1600/me+devils+staircase.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnwoX-xR_jCoTvaNbfijPrOEGE1KvlLOEvKvAp4ziI9lf6GFIoNnkwtKq4Lkv5DEuacUyhGEudG9e10klTG2RqNPQTwz7WkkYSIT86jsn4IUC6aVjEKEzjIm27dDy6QYzQw0aUd_8E9rVh/s400/me+devils+staircase.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602614114677857810" border="0" /></a>Looking back towards Rannoch, (also, hurting).<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9ajIpU_tusFmv8gJkqHI7mbqEH87u4miLzDibjBrl_jc7GPlnOXMyPyOmAP5k6hgmASsdUJRN-zUwk1w-EymJ9BLjPQkBAnJeTMx9dOl7pMORroYXvCdZOILjZe1e-oqOSJ9HQBqcd-vC/s1600/IMG_0282.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9ajIpU_tusFmv8gJkqHI7mbqEH87u4miLzDibjBrl_jc7GPlnOXMyPyOmAP5k6hgmASsdUJRN-zUwk1w-EymJ9BLjPQkBAnJeTMx9dOl7pMORroYXvCdZOILjZe1e-oqOSJ9HQBqcd-vC/s400/IMG_0282.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602613513853493442" border="0" /></a>View from the top, Ben Nevis is in there somewhere...<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK-asHChmJRV2hJxcjkQNlFamMOmF1ZIyWacvroKlm4279Si9EfPtUWNoIkHJ6_uTIYBG1fI9QVTGHFrr8LN7l1MUvSIuov_w5IKwUbwxpCKKx7JLYo10eWwhtQiHkPOvsLnd5QBWLOtq4/s1600/IMG_0285.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK-asHChmJRV2hJxcjkQNlFamMOmF1ZIyWacvroKlm4279Si9EfPtUWNoIkHJ6_uTIYBG1fI9QVTGHFrr8LN7l1MUvSIuov_w5IKwUbwxpCKKx7JLYo10eWwhtQiHkPOvsLnd5QBWLOtq4/s400/IMG_0285.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602613519897700082" border="0" /></a>Tom falling off the edge of the world.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Its easy to write the Staircase off as a push, but that wouldn't be doing it, or yourself, justice. On a dry day, with the right bike (big tyres, low gears) the right legs and a healthy amount of stubborness, you might surprise yourself by how much you can ride. I like to think that with a little preparation (and maybe a plank across that one really big ditch) I might be able to ride the whole thing*.<br /><br />The descent is glorious, a mix of loose rock, armoured trail and slabs, with waterbars, switchbacks, stream crossings, bridges and steep sections all thrown into the mix.<br /><br />In the wet, the whole shebang, the climb and descent, can be a bike breaker, as I found out on a ride from Crianlarich to Fort William. The preceding miles had already seen off most of my gears (French chainrings? The W.H.W. eats them) so the climb was a cruel joke, and I was also down one set of brake pads, so the descent was a little heavy on the front brake, with predictable results.<br /><br />The fun shouldn't end when you hit the landrover track to Kinlochleven though. Here you have three options.<br /><br />1) Descend the landrover track at warp speed, only just making it round the steep loose hairpins by the skin of your teeth (or by the skin of your knee, as Tom found out).<br /><br />2) Descend the landrover track, but take advantage of the many singletrack short cuts worn into the hillside by walkers and trials motorbikes (just don't swerve wildly and almost take out the guy behind you like I almost did).<br /><br />3) Take a right turn back into the hills and visit the Blackwater Dam.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Blackwater Dam and Chiarain Path Diversion</span><br /><br />I'm giving this section its own title for a very good reason, you are at a crossroads of some very good trails indeed, and not just a little bit of grim Scottish History (the sort of history that Scotland does best).<br /><br />To get to the dam, first you need to find your way onto the conduit that carries water downhill to Kinlochleven. This shouldn't be hard as it runs parallel to the landrover track for most of the way (you could of course just follow the landrover track up the hill, but thats far less fun).<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvi8_lWOutTwHjk-wXoMI2fATLYWtadCjRLh2omBScVnrTZ6-RrRXfZVvD6nj2KhmhkEkoomrtQbPYf0N8IROWReq89h9z74u4k_suT5yKt7OK8KgNDNmSfd5fkpwVkmvwtdh-JuyMyiOu/s1600/DSCF0565.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvi8_lWOutTwHjk-wXoMI2fATLYWtadCjRLh2omBScVnrTZ6-RrRXfZVvD6nj2KhmhkEkoomrtQbPYf0N8IROWReq89h9z74u4k_suT5yKt7OK8KgNDNmSfd5fkpwVkmvwtdh-JuyMyiOu/s400/DSCF0565.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611143548856075058" border="0" /></a>Looks like a road, but is better built and contains several<br />million rushing litres of water.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj831quEvscVkEZv9Oyw3qerA51VPuAJ4tbnVNUP0Vv3Hqw_iWIiYX_7NTb27C78c7Yjjdt9Exu3ONZ0evbFC1PGKA1ivvMAMahnR0Xb_khyphenhyphenm9PkG-pBSaIe-K3rQSER_K_f1YjHFEIV8pQ/s1600/DSCF0572.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj831quEvscVkEZv9Oyw3qerA51VPuAJ4tbnVNUP0Vv3Hqw_iWIiYX_7NTb27C78c7Yjjdt9Exu3ONZ0evbFC1PGKA1ivvMAMahnR0Xb_khyphenhyphenm9PkG-pBSaIe-K3rQSER_K_f1YjHFEIV8pQ/s400/DSCF0572.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611143553131875074" border="0" /></a>Slightly more precipitous than the average<br />road, especially on the bridges!<br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihbr3jBvBmOKZJhnfGke_bZfW74TTo56BqYer_5QkMnb5IRwZ57l5tmYKWhbu1IaZMeiUhUmJYAVFpkXnH8XLx_Pg3SvHhx4Qf6eqnJn6xfrgZO6Ll1m7N6w9Zuulgs74Esv9jgyhqrUa4/s1600/DSCF0578.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihbr3jBvBmOKZJhnfGke_bZfW74TTo56BqYer_5QkMnb5IRwZ57l5tmYKWhbu1IaZMeiUhUmJYAVFpkXnH8XLx_Pg3SvHhx4Qf6eqnJn6xfrgZO6Ll1m7N6w9Zuulgs74Esv9jgyhqrUa4/s400/DSCF0578.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611143567179787714" border="0" /></a>The Blackwater Graveyard 'They died that you and I<br />might drink from aluminium cans'**<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">It would be difficult (and futile) for me to try and recount the whole history of the Blackwater dam and its surroundings, if you are at all interested (and I would strongly recommend it) try to get your hands on a copy of 'Children of the Dead End' by Patrick Macgill. While semi-fictional, it sets the scene for the building of the dam, and gives you an idea of the conditions the labourers endured (and explains in no small detail the presence of the graveyard).<br /><br />After the respite of riding up the conduit, you'll now be ready to get your wheels dirty again, but between you and the trails lies the small matter of crossing the dam.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMsgwurQqxUj2gMgOJX9pdgG4_vLjo_E1ex4ZmbJXdbYsf8oliMEhE0gZ8sGtzsH1Rcjaa7vSaRh4ze-QAydV936ySLM8j2Zh5Jb4HgQNf4sJ32baoEQIae6ZlwY1FXx01QtbfNXiXcrJH/s1600/DSCF0593.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMsgwurQqxUj2gMgOJX9pdgG4_vLjo_E1ex4ZmbJXdbYsf8oliMEhE0gZ8sGtzsH1Rcjaa7vSaRh4ze-QAydV936ySLM8j2Zh5Jb4HgQNf4sJ32baoEQIae6ZlwY1FXx01QtbfNXiXcrJH/s400/DSCF0593.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615082125532595618" border="0" /></a><br />Crossing the dam is easy enough, unless you decide to make life difficult for yourself and do it in<br /></div>early January like <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/petermacdonald/350236822/">Peter McDonald</a> and friends did. Epic photos!<br /><br />Once you find yourself on the other side, you're ready to descend back to Kinlochleven. At this point I have to step back and admit that despite having been in the area often enough, and having meant to ride the trail since I read about it in Kenny Wilsons 'Mountainbike Scotland' guide book, I still haven't ridden it.<br /></div><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLKQ-HyGFzOLq7J5StQCR_SWicfrAC4_HIvvUJKczqijCpp_p55Hdb_lApFSPOTa3uoZzzFrcRQg8lcDunFLv-3H9PwIAx4H9-4ca1WSoXH8FSmtLf_cgKEYJTtlmGf8ELUeik-6iy3HIU/s1600/DSCF0573.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 262px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLKQ-HyGFzOLq7J5StQCR_SWicfrAC4_HIvvUJKczqijCpp_p55Hdb_lApFSPOTa3uoZzzFrcRQg8lcDunFLv-3H9PwIAx4H9-4ca1WSoXH8FSmtLf_cgKEYJTtlmGf8ELUeik-6iy3HIU/s400/DSCF0573.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611143562562389154" border="0" /></a>The top section of the Chiarain Path, taken from the<br />conduit on the other side.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">While some consider it the best descent in Scotland, others aren't so keen, perhaps as it stops and starts a little and some of the obstacles can't be taken as fast as you would like. Having walked the section at the bottom (and suffering a cleg biting me through my merino top!) I'd say it looks every bit as good as its supposed to be. One to look forward to.<br /><br />This is not the only descent in Kinlochleven, and the area merits some time spent exploring, however we shall leave that till another time.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Back to the WHW</span><br /><br />So, having made your way to Kinlochleven one way or another, its time to continue with the Way. If you have chosen to stop over in Kinlochleven, I would recommend the Blackwater Hostel and its very friendly owner, and the local brew (Atlas Brewery, in particular 'Three Sisters').<br /><br />Continuing on, you discover one of the best reasons for riding the WHW from North to South, the trail out of Kinlochleven towards Fort William is a testing, steep singletrack graunch, good fun with fresh legs, utter purgatory if you're already tired. On our May weekend, Brad and I suffered up this, walking almost all of it with sweat pouring off us. On another weekend, my friend James and I sessioned a short section of it and had a lot of fun picking lines up the difficult sections (although James, as a trained cross country skier, tends to enjoy most uphills, I've never seen someone get their bike sideways on an uphill corner like he can...). Obviously, if you had started in Ft William, you'd be riding this as a descent, although I still reckon this is the wrong way to ride it.<br /><br />Anyway, after this the excitement gradually tails off, the final miles to Fort William are largely landrover track with some entertaining rocky bits here and there. At least this section can be ridden with a trailer!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD5tqDfIShO5rp1jZAGsAeyEYuIFXkcmhxjZ-xq7miTAOxw_SkUjYTmwg55zskOkc961BWZDB3jMrzMlpSH_7pDMO_V2ncYg20j3l5nswndoJh95CukjrHUzf8Vz_rTs2-V-OztMuraQLT/s1600/DSCF0271.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD5tqDfIShO5rp1jZAGsAeyEYuIFXkcmhxjZ-xq7miTAOxw_SkUjYTmwg55zskOkc961BWZDB3jMrzMlpSH_7pDMO_V2ncYg20j3l5nswndoJh95CukjrHUzf8Vz_rTs2-V-OztMuraQLT/s400/DSCF0271.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615087194355950658" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Now its time for another confession. I've not actually ridden the whole West Highland Way. For various reasons, I've either detoured off it at Kinlochleven, or nipped onto the road at Lundavra. As such I have no idea what lies on the final section into Glen Nevis. Perhaps this year I'll manage another weekend ride along the Way to find out, but in the meantime I'll just continue to imagine a maze of pristine singletrack leading gently to the pub in Glen Nevis...<br /><br /><br /><br />Fin.<br /></div></div><br /><br /></div></div></div></div></div><br /></div><br /><br /><br />*Its very easy to say that when you haven't got the trail in front of you, and a bottle of Deuchars slowly blurring the memories of the last attempt...<br /><br />** I can't remember where I read this quote, nor who said it, nor for that matter if they said it specifically about the Blackwater Dam, so apologies to any actual historians reading this.Ianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12038546134695957686noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3631264177116850257.post-36808014761898160822011-04-22T21:34:00.012+01:002011-04-23T00:27:27.898+01:00Misadventures on the West Highland Way, Pt 1.The West Highland Way shouldn't need too much of an introduction, so I'll spare you anything too thorough, other than to say as a neatly packaged weekend jaunt into some big scenery, you won't find much better!<br /><br /><a name='more'></a><br /><br />My introduction to the West Highland Way came from a slightly unexpected source. While working at the Edinburgh Bicycle Co-op my Aussie co-worker Brad <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">blithely</span></span> suggested we try riding it over a weekend. He wasn't fussed by the distances involved, and obviously hadn't been brought up with horror stories from midge eaten, bedraggled and foot sore hikers who'd taken on the week long challenge of walking it (or for some, the 17 hour challenge of running it, maniacs).<br /><br />So with a change of clothes for the overnight stop in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Tyndrum</span></span> we set off, into two day's May sunshine that even a seasoned Aussie found a bit too much to bear.<br /><br />Here though I'm going to give you a stage by stage guide featuring pictures from a few different rides along the Way, and my UCI approved* 'rules' for riding it.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Stage One- <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Milngavie</span></span> to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Inversnaid</span></span> Hotel.</span><br /><br />Rule Number One: ALWAYS ride the Way South to North. Its just the done thing. Don't listen to any of the perfectly reasonable arguments people may make about riding against the flow of walkers to allow them to see you, or the fact that its easier north to south, or that the descent into <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Kinlochleven</span> heading south is maybe the best on the Way, they are but the ramblings of people who've sniffed too much GT85.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR7rGDoHVVYoEUJieBHZWYqnQcQ0UjXzrxcQmxY1xY-ZXohfekR6F1K6TEALAmXH4PeWy3ynlEyn8cdj_yNoocbobTKOT6H6Sm8-AgCGWWc0JpUJ3Tl4FNt8ermpP-sN-pLCCqQiy-8wld/s1600/IMG_0747_big.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR7rGDoHVVYoEUJieBHZWYqnQcQ0UjXzrxcQmxY1xY-ZXohfekR6F1K6TEALAmXH4PeWy3ynlEyn8cdj_yNoocbobTKOT6H6Sm8-AgCGWWc0JpUJ3Tl4FNt8ermpP-sN-pLCCqQiy-8wld/s400/IMG_0747_big.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598514598408264610" border="0" /></a>The beginning.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">This cheery fellow is me, experimenting with a new look I call 'Buffoon'. I was setting off at 5am hoping to reach Ft William by the same evening, more of which later. However, an early start is a great idea, the first few kilometres are fairly easy so you can warm up/wake up without any early drama. If you're really lucky you might be blessed with a daydreaming Barn Owl floating past you before doing a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">cartoonish</span></span> double-take and flapping away in the opposite direction.<br /><br />So far so easy, and before long you'll approach <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Drymen</span></span>, not a place for a bacon roll at 7 in the morning as I found out, nor, as it happens, is the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Rowardennan</span></span> hotel further along the way!<br /><br />Between <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Drymen</span></span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Rowardennan</span></span> however, is Conic Hill, your first taste of what the Way has in store for you. A <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">fireroad</span></span> climb eventually culminates in some rocky <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">steppy</span></span> business which then leads to the final loose <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">rubbly</span></span> climb, with some entertaining '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">meally</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">puddin</span></span>' rock to scrabble up and over. The descent back down to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Balmaha</span></span> is steep and loose in places, so if you weren't awake before, you should be now!<br /></div></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiULoh84q6kjJTcJeqjXWhWV3Ya77QREJR0SgoUTAY3AOjYL6OAY-wgwqQ3-tDAyTnJyC0BFOVwERqmilG1mTkBt8TYxnegDekGTnW1VoScD7fFPCPgT92bmmsel8yulI_E1M-pzN2kN3S/s1600/me+lomond.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiULoh84q6kjJTcJeqjXWhWV3Ya77QREJR0SgoUTAY3AOjYL6OAY-wgwqQ3-tDAyTnJyC0BFOVwERqmilG1mTkBt8TYxnegDekGTnW1VoScD7fFPCPgT92bmmsel8yulI_E1M-pzN2kN3S/s400/me+lomond.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598512362065031186" border="0" /></a>The shores of Loch <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Lomond</span></span></span> (or 'The Bonny Banks', if you must!)<br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br />By this point you should be feeling the challenge is met, and the trails along Loch <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Lomondside</span></span> get progressively more technical and entertaining, just beware the blind four foot drop off one of the bridges, which has reputedly brought a few rides to an early halt!<br /><br />Don't get too carried away at this stage, the trail invites a bit (a lot) of sprinting and jumping, but you've a long way to go yet. As you approach <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Inversnaid</span></span> it gets narrower, and rockier, and you'll start to appreciate those big fat tubeless tyres you fitted before you started (you did fit some tubeless tyres didn't you?).<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLoGhuvLRafWDMFNYsjfcbACJ-DQ1m9tLBO97Ee_I9JKZmDTpKSQBCFojp_QIbJEIlpKGwwJtesBzYQwBLPKX36l1My6G46X9r30ryD3HQIZqLt5j8md9tbXh6th4Hgs-R11bg3wNmQQkk/s1600/brad+inversnaid.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLoGhuvLRafWDMFNYsjfcbACJ-DQ1m9tLBO97Ee_I9JKZmDTpKSQBCFojp_QIbJEIlpKGwwJtesBzYQwBLPKX36l1My6G46X9r30ryD3HQIZqLt5j8md9tbXh6th4Hgs-R11bg3wNmQQkk/s400/brad+inversnaid.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598512355988448722" border="0" /></a>Brad at the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Inversnaid</span></span> Bridge.He wouldn't<br />be looking so relaxed if he knew what<br />was to come.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Stage 2 - <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Inversnaid</span></span> to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">BeinGlas</span></span> Farm</span><br /><br />Rule Number Two. You WILL ride the 'the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">unrideable</span> bit after <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">Inversnaid</span>'.<br /><br />The next section is usually only referred to as 'the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">unrideable</span></span> bit after <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">Inversnaid</span></span>' but it deserves so much more than that, and I am pleased to say that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">VisitScotland</span></span> have now approved my alternative proposal of '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">Lairig</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">na</span> Death-March'** Your only option here is to humph the bike up on your shoulder and carry it for the next hour or two. Along the way you will pass such highlights as Rob Roy's Cave (alt: Rob Roy's Dank Wet Rocky Hole) and innumerable big rocks and boulders, all positioned such that a bike carried on the shoulders will inevitably get wedged between them, or snagged on a nearby branch.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiErfm4fSFhO7IURnQyxHgFERVpyVX1UjiqtdxojVbJSiHZFEqwCsFwqV9yJLNWEhlzRpcd9hBRwsucIpLcgwSPr1lXxAOeV3xTKblEyaKmerSKOqaIxTMd-iYH_zsy2qOJ0j8Dgok5SRe/s1600/inversnaid+beach.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiErfm4fSFhO7IURnQyxHgFERVpyVX1UjiqtdxojVbJSiHZFEqwCsFwqV9yJLNWEhlzRpcd9hBRwsucIpLcgwSPr1lXxAOeV3xTKblEyaKmerSKOqaIxTMd-iYH_zsy2qOJ0j8Dgok5SRe/s400/inversnaid+beach.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598512359296472242" border="0" /></a>There are some nice bits too.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Your only hope of salvation (we will of course ignore the ferry service which would bypass the whole section, as that just isn't cricket) is to be prepared. While by expecting this section, it can't quite be kept distant, it can at least be endured slightly more (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">wo</span></span>)manfully. Maybe even pack some lightweight hiking shoes, because two hours of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">SPD</span></span> cleat on granite and wet roots just isn't pleasant.<br /><br />Consider yourself lucky if its raining, or dark, or <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">midgie</span></span> season, for truly you have learned what it is to suffer in the name of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">mountainbiking</span></span>, and will now have enough material for several years of steely eyed tales of hardship back at the pub.<br /><br />Eventually though the trail starts to return, at first just in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">dribs</span></span> and drabs, but eventually you'll be back in the saddle for the final <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33">singletrack</span></span> stint to the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34">BeinGlas</span></span> farm, where cheese toasties and grumpy service await you***<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Stage 3- <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35">BeinGlas</span></span> to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36">Crianlarich</span></span></span><br /><br />This section is fairly unremarkable, just enjoy spinning the pedals again! The only bit of note is the section of path approaching <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37">Crianlarich</span></span> which proudly boasts of the maintenance work which has been done on it, and is probably one of the worst sections of path on the whole Way, basically sharp rocks glued together in a mire of cow shit and mud. Thankfully <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38">shortlived</span></span>.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Stage 4- <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39">Crianlarich</span></span> to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40">Tyndrum</span></span></span><br /><br />Not many photos of this section, which is a shame because the actual trail is really nice, a gradual rolling climb out of the forest, before a brilliant swooping descent straight out of a trail centre (so I've been told, because of course I would never ride at a trail centre. Never. Not at all). By this point you'll be tiring, so the lengthy detours on the flat ground either side of the road to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41">Tyndrum</span></span> might seem like a bit of a cruel joke, but they're much nicer than joining the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_42">rammy</span></span> of caravans and motorbikes on the road.<br /><br />Extra kudos to Markus (see his blog <a href="http://fearlessandunique.wordpress.com/2011/04/11/biking-back-to-happiness/#more-601">here</a>) for joining the Way here on his <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_43">cyclocross</span></span> bike. He chose however to join the narrow and greasy <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_44">singletrack</span></span> running parallel to the road while still cruising at tarmac speed. Cue bike hanging in a tree and a sore knee for Markus, not that a sore knee will ever stop Markus...<br /><br />Anyway, as <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_42"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_45">Tyndrum</span></span> approaches you'll be ready to stop for the day, hopefully having booked into the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_43"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_46">Strathfillan</span></span> Wigwams or the By the Way Hostel well in advance! <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_44"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_47">Tyndrum</span></span> seems to serve as a stopping off point for all sorts of travellers, and more than one occasion has seen me sitting under the eaves of the Green Welly stop, watching the rain bouncing off the passing traffic and wolfing down a Reese's <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_45"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_48">nutrageous</span></span> bar, wondering what the hell I was doing there.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Next Day, Stage 5 - <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_46"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_49">Tyndrum</span></span> to the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_47"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_50">Kingshouse</span></span>.</span><br /><br />You've just endured a lot of waffle if you've read this far, so I'll let the pictures do the speaking for a while. Suffice to say, this is where the riding, and the scenery, really begin. The best of these pictures are from another stunning weekend when my friend Tom (another member of the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_48"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_51">EBC</span></span> crew) and I decided to make our <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_49"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_52">pilgrimage</span></span> to the Fort William World Cup via Bridge of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_50"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_53">Orchy</span></span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_51"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_54">Kinlochleven</span></span>, and the famous '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_52"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_55">Lairig</span></span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_53"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_56">Leacach</span></span>' pass to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_54"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_57">Spean</span></span> Bridge.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZFDXFqBhHL4O9JkNh5i1CmX3hzDOvu5CvCBatsSRMidbgOBAO6bpLGWTA1QLGYBNwtG8aO3JU5bl9PumRLxPSNISOBUq6-6soSKwTtBy5K9gP6tmeGX-S1x7yxQeqNL1gzdtQUpPafKW2/s1600/IMG_0244.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZFDXFqBhHL4O9JkNh5i1CmX3hzDOvu5CvCBatsSRMidbgOBAO6bpLGWTA1QLGYBNwtG8aO3JU5bl9PumRLxPSNISOBUq6-6soSKwTtBy5K9gP6tmeGX-S1x7yxQeqNL1gzdtQUpPafKW2/s400/IMG_0244.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598538578605708770" border="0" /></a>Tom climbing out of Bridge of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_55"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_58">Orchy</span></span><br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEhjkboUNduArJ2TsPv8YDgI_-j3F7_L2YWoXxMMA-6782n7NBsNr-kntM6VKCYYYF87Rs2Cn1GI1PIBvaH4cgT_EzaxUt0eZ21MniKEVqZXwWVJ6Vfj2rWEpBKCURd8q-sE195vfc21y1/s1600/me+rannoch+tired.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEhjkboUNduArJ2TsPv8YDgI_-j3F7_L2YWoXxMMA-6782n7NBsNr-kntM6VKCYYYF87Rs2Cn1GI1PIBvaH4cgT_EzaxUt0eZ21MniKEVqZXwWVJ6Vfj2rWEpBKCURd8q-sE195vfc21y1/s400/me+rannoch+tired.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598512374818447010" border="0" /></a>Me suffering on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_56"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_59">Rannoch</span></span> Moor.<br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtT3nMg9Sf8yAxP0gwFKL5sS0CThcnBh0ViUE1UfuXherY3AVpSGJI0A_bbJtHABrJRAKqt4-N-jLHCSfzMhjcgncUlU3TVFmdao13H5ekz8mqnqdASDs-oKiqIRR5Lvautqssy4f_L0_u/s1600/IMG_0254.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtT3nMg9Sf8yAxP0gwFKL5sS0CThcnBh0ViUE1UfuXherY3AVpSGJI0A_bbJtHABrJRAKqt4-N-jLHCSfzMhjcgncUlU3TVFmdao13H5ekz8mqnqdASDs-oKiqIRR5Lvautqssy4f_L0_u/s400/IMG_0254.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598538580313370290" border="0" /></a>Tom riding into a Nintendo cloudscape<br /></div><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn8srA3YKx86VVd-wPtyMDDPudwwySR4K3VWKjhLzO8ZMhns77v5zonGXhWDTcG4xauiz0hiLulTq0XgHpHS6IkUasOubUc69VRM1YYA2lYEy6ql5WRDeNQ4yxi71ZclIjinyc8zIjD0rJ/s1600/IMG_0259.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn8srA3YKx86VVd-wPtyMDDPudwwySR4K3VWKjhLzO8ZMhns77v5zonGXhWDTcG4xauiz0hiLulTq0XgHpHS6IkUasOubUc69VRM1YYA2lYEy6ql5WRDeNQ4yxi71ZclIjinyc8zIjD0rJ/s400/IMG_0259.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598538585305648578" border="0" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: center;">Tom descending towards the Glen <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_57"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_60">Coe</span></span> ski centre.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Crossing <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_58"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_61">Rannoch</span></span> Moor is always special. The trail at this point is an old military road, and although well made, the 'cobbles' can take their toll if you haven't chosen a decent saddle! The sense of emptiness and absolute silence can be completely absorbing, although so can the sense of absolute exposure to the whims of any passing rain storms...<br /><br />At the other end of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_59"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_62">Rannoch</span></span> Moor is a very special pub, the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_60"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_63">Kingshouse</span></span>. Forget the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_61"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_64">Clachaig</span></span>; despite its many charms its still a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_62"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_65">Wetherspoon's</span></span> compared to the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_63"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_66">Kingshouse</span></span>. Best enjoyed as an overnight stop, the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_64"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_67">Kingie</span></span> is an essential halt on any trip along the Way. Just make sure you go in the back door..<br /><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc1C_KoGVmPYj8O28Yf__YV0J1GiT0MmdrQGkh-lWpSIJXPmZv2W_9_HrKyh9F_fEVVDSRkLz-smbHz5r4ax91l54iLmjymdDcs5PsliOmg-FJHw25G9-TJdSx9abw1yZp-7LLeQqLAUN8/s1600/IMG_1663.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc1C_KoGVmPYj8O28Yf__YV0J1GiT0MmdrQGkh-lWpSIJXPmZv2W_9_HrKyh9F_fEVVDSRkLz-smbHz5r4ax91l54iLmjymdDcs5PsliOmg-FJHw25G9-TJdSx9abw1yZp-7LLeQqLAUN8/s400/IMG_1663.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598538590657050850" border="0" /></a>Sunset over the Glen <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_65"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_68">Etive</span></span> hills, with the Kingshouse<br />just out of site at the end of the Pylons.<br /><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs-cS0REh3wPb11pye3VrIVgGuQw4sNEUkl38Gq0CN7OueczX9Wvg2Ic_Ykjn4gcrcL4V4u-RCrQxl3BPn1WNb6mD8U5RKGrvgqEc5GzpLAKLGX5NriJZ0kefKqe1E4HwBgDkJnEIX8Nym/s1600/IMG_1669.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs-cS0REh3wPb11pye3VrIVgGuQw4sNEUkl38Gq0CN7OueczX9Wvg2Ic_Ykjn4gcrcL4V4u-RCrQxl3BPn1WNb6mD8U5RKGrvgqEc5GzpLAKLGX5NriJZ0kefKqe1E4HwBgDkJnEIX8Nym/s400/IMG_1669.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598538589016801362" border="0" /></a><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_67"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_70">Kingshouse</span></span> Morning, as enjoyed on a non <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_68"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_71">WHW</span></span> trip crossing<br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_69"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_72">Rannoch</span></span> Moor from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_70"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_73">Rannoch</span></span> train station.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJVnLayFH1PHXFbfZ9Ze-kD9v9wtEL3-NOiVpqzfanr1ZCpXZoSruogj_MrXVfxyal8OaDgSPEoO8uDentzdEYgzX7U8ALTOv7BEFaq81BUTk7oJPvMj-R88_A3yseciGYY7x4Z8zETB5u/s1600/kingshouse.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJVnLayFH1PHXFbfZ9Ze-kD9v9wtEL3-NOiVpqzfanr1ZCpXZoSruogj_MrXVfxyal8OaDgSPEoO8uDentzdEYgzX7U8ALTOv7BEFaq81BUTk7oJPvMj-R88_A3yseciGYY7x4Z8zETB5u/s400/kingshouse.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598541093952804514" border="0" /></a>The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_71"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_74">Kingie</span></span><br /><br /><br /></div></div></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyoV1j6zMVgphyphenhyphenj8GI6C1aJ2-RGJBt2xNDB6CQIbAH1i0pwWvMCt4Hl42i2V9QuO316nEPwh_0TiBSmTv0FJW68lr3zxn_35ZfwZzqZMNEFKaci3APrZ6gJz2Wo5pM4d5lWVKQYbeJXEem/s1600/kingshouse+inside.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyoV1j6zMVgphyphenhyphenj8GI6C1aJ2-RGJBt2xNDB6CQIbAH1i0pwWvMCt4Hl42i2V9QuO316nEPwh_0TiBSmTv0FJW68lr3zxn_35ZfwZzqZMNEFKaci3APrZ6gJz2Wo5pM4d5lWVKQYbeJXEem/s400/kingshouse+inside.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598541096677500914" border="0" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">No <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_72"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_75">midgies</span></span> inside! (apart from the massive jar of them<br />in a display case beside a bottle of 'Panther Piss' whisky and<br />some <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_73">pre</span>-war crampons)<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Despite my fondness for the place, a stop in the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_74">Kingshouse</span> signalled the end of my particular one-day attempt on the Way. Having arrived soaked and tired, I enjoyed a coffee and a bowl of chips, only to step back outside into a horizontal rainstorm blowing over the top of the Devil's Staircase (several km down the road from the pub). After much prevaricating in the doorway I convinced myself that even if I managed over the staircase in one <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_75">piece</span>, I'd not then manage the climb back out of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_76">Kinlochleven</span>, or the remaining 20km to Ft William, so I called in the cavalry and descended through Glen <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_77">Coe</span> to a very wet rendezvous with my dad.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd4va3U-VFKIqGmudQ02Qr7z_tn8utH7boyp36fRGBkwbP0wIw3NmrZutQAaJ5Qe2u4pW5D7qRx_Eao2YaGV5pKK3OU_xEKP8Zp90Gw_B3oy4AgCM8GPOl2xpwzjVg5VLtV68LqiuJeeCs/s1600/IMG_0104.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd4va3U-VFKIqGmudQ02Qr7z_tn8utH7boyp36fRGBkwbP0wIw3NmrZutQAaJ5Qe2u4pW5D7qRx_Eao2YaGV5pKK3OU_xEKP8Zp90Gw_B3oy4AgCM8GPOl2xpwzjVg5VLtV68LqiuJeeCs/s400/IMG_0104.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598544342326462146" border="0" /></a>Glen Coe, and the first sunshine I'd seen all day.<br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI-ty7fW7QntBm_nuTA2k4ohkXSfmFqd80PZl1SZlybc-NQTvNgKlZDcLHAfuH8dn6KBVRIifG1FISg2z5yj4mTb4L1BgmEuN7HUZ3DYhImcw-u8J3nkNj5ERPMkJVp2yhEHhB44PSDdhS/s1600/IMG_0108.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI-ty7fW7QntBm_nuTA2k4ohkXSfmFqd80PZl1SZlybc-NQTvNgKlZDcLHAfuH8dn6KBVRIifG1FISg2z5yj4mTb4L1BgmEuN7HUZ3DYhImcw-u8J3nkNj5ERPMkJVp2yhEHhB44PSDdhS/s400/IMG_0108.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598544343462163922" border="0" /></a>12 hours and 100km later, the WHW-in-a-day had eluded me.<br />For a full list of excuses, send a S.A.E. to 'Shallow Ecosse,<br />PO Box 999, Edinburgh'<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">That episode had signalled the end of my ride that time around, but of course the best of the WHW is yet to come.<br /><br />In Part 2, dodgy detours, famous bothies, the Devil's Staircase, B.o.Bs on the Way, and shocking and discrediting revelations about your author.<br /></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /></div></div></div>* when they get around to it, I'm expecting a letter in the post any day now.<br />** Lit: 'Pass of the tree lined loch-side'<br />*** Not strictly true, but I'm pretty sure their card machine wouldn't explode if they let you pay for your lunch with a Switch card. Serves me right for being a prancing city-boy who doesn't carry cash...<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Additional photos of the Kingshouse by Jonathan McMillan, Loch Lomondside and Rannoch Moor photos by Brad Hamblett. If I ever make any money out of this I'll make sure you guys get a cut (although currently thats a cut of £0.00, don't quit the day jobs...)</span>Ianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12038546134695957686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3631264177116850257.post-11474913713076421132010-12-20T14:55:00.017+00:002011-03-14T22:28:24.090+00:00Loch Lomond to Spean Bridge Pt.2Argyll had been kind to me, lots of rideable trails, lots of nice weather. However, the second leg was to leave Benderloch and head to Bonawe quarry, to pick up the western shore of Loch Etive.<br /><br /><a name='more'></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAAZ-qA39OtwY5IJT2X39TQ40Mhp4H3UQ1G3sUW5lzO0fp6O34CeWB5MEQCz5spn6RSOIPKhsxtN44J1Q1aDbq9TD2f8WmABrYuzHX-DwdS1H696gwlDM7MZ037pWHBCBsV5Hpw3xi9u4z/s1600/DSCF0535.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 161px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAAZ-qA39OtwY5IJT2X39TQ40Mhp4H3UQ1G3sUW5lzO0fp6O34CeWB5MEQCz5spn6RSOIPKhsxtN44J1Q1aDbq9TD2f8WmABrYuzHX-DwdS1H696gwlDM7MZ037pWHBCBsV5Hpw3xi9u4z/s400/DSCF0535.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562360799700403714" border="0" /></a><br />Loch Etive is impressive, riding from Benderloch, through Connel and past Achnaba, you are given no hint of the great big hairy mountains waiting just round the corner from Bonawe. As soon as you turn that corner, and scuttle through the (working) quarry as fast as you can, you find yourself surrounded, with the Cruachan range on your right, blending in to the massive bulk of Starav further up the glen.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_mnJ8URDFhAuH71r7aWgvlDJ5GBI1wu9bOPiyrR0nypFWj7KkxbBPXkZxaeRcXDfKyGX384lHZJb0aMQCIhzMZLVpiWDkyfycMXKXNaMNTj10QtnIsVQHv1soFn9NYg1fFhPGmF7BzqsX/s1600/DSCF0541.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_mnJ8URDFhAuH71r7aWgvlDJ5GBI1wu9bOPiyrR0nypFWj7KkxbBPXkZxaeRcXDfKyGX384lHZJb0aMQCIhzMZLVpiWDkyfycMXKXNaMNTj10QtnIsVQHv1soFn9NYg1fFhPGmF7BzqsX/s400/DSCF0541.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562360806787471858" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPG4KmO1zVyhgA9uKXCOLUByWEKvkL296r6cbM1-lfao-w4UP8EuGnxa65R2_IoylyLoqsXb0x2LzMmJux5whUNHUXO04SzJNz7WTtu8KraleuvG-0hC-sqxI3-ARSWWrw-wkbBL7pvOhs/s1600/DSCF0544.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPG4KmO1zVyhgA9uKXCOLUByWEKvkL296r6cbM1-lfao-w4UP8EuGnxa65R2_IoylyLoqsXb0x2LzMmJux5whUNHUXO04SzJNz7WTtu8KraleuvG-0hC-sqxI3-ARSWWrw-wkbBL7pvOhs/s400/DSCF0544.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562360808598173282" border="0" /></a>The trail was also impressive, well surfaced and eventually quite thin and interesting. Unfortunately it didn't play well with the trailer, lots of steep descents to stream crossings, followed <span style="font-weight: bold;">immediately</span> by steep scrabbly ascents, meant lots of swearing and getting off to push.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKm3ub9vo2yi6Md5uOLPmoaRT8rT46Fzq3_dJTbnDByXKr2Sr8FFxLzwxUbcw7xTHa6NxBhwxjJR4M9QDLDViiCWn7sVlxDFJF2LtixkzNQTKv9v1zc3H1HqbDqj0TCHP9LtJx-mCQpr6K/s1600/DSCF0549.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 256px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKm3ub9vo2yi6Md5uOLPmoaRT8rT46Fzq3_dJTbnDByXKr2Sr8FFxLzwxUbcw7xTHa6NxBhwxjJR4M9QDLDViiCWn7sVlxDFJF2LtixkzNQTKv9v1zc3H1HqbDqj0TCHP9LtJx-mCQpr6K/s400/DSCF0549.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562360817607864690" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjratfcTa6qhO8QmMpN9a4huPeZCYrju3UveTG-EELwAs7QxhcHjDG_qUL3-0yhKu_AH4ImAAzTg0QJW9cY4OEeYdcJfo6lPygMJW8ivFw9skBr1lkDnj5D8LbdbSU4LzyKAKGqNO62xSfq/s1600/DSCF0550.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjratfcTa6qhO8QmMpN9a4huPeZCYrju3UveTG-EELwAs7QxhcHjDG_qUL3-0yhKu_AH4ImAAzTg0QJW9cY4OEeYdcJfo6lPygMJW8ivFw9skBr1lkDnj5D8LbdbSU4LzyKAKGqNO62xSfq/s400/DSCF0550.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562360822373450210" border="0" /></a><br />The trail ended with one final, ignominious push through a bog, all the while staring up at the Trilleachan Slabs. What the photos don't perhaps do is give a sense of the scale of the slabs, but look closely at the size of the trees and you realise how high they are. Beinn Trilleachan means 'Hill of the Oystercatcher' and right enough, there were plenty of the noisy wee chaps piping away on the shore.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg83gXQKWEByb8eGiwxSkLNZ2eF2ZBxC2kyCCsZvutZIPxnoRoGH_cN8QRfTULIS_8jF4FkHMp97tqLC6NnX2wnbklyC5MAvVHl8q8drCPKwu68n7uLPhIQMCXW78OvW6cfgb0tyxhyphenhyphen3NaS/s1600/DSCF0551.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg83gXQKWEByb8eGiwxSkLNZ2eF2ZBxC2kyCCsZvutZIPxnoRoGH_cN8QRfTULIS_8jF4FkHMp97tqLC6NnX2wnbklyC5MAvVHl8q8drCPKwu68n7uLPhIQMCXW78OvW6cfgb0tyxhyphenhyphen3NaS/s400/DSCF0551.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562362934215675586" border="0" /></a>Brief photo-op while hiding from viscious geese on the Glen Etive road<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">The most memorable view from Glen Etive is the two herdsmen at the end. If you look back, you can catch a glimpse of them guarding the mouth of the Glen in almost every photo.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimoDmJUuBlSq5F7JUOTwta7fQ9eQI3b4E92MkLhoQjTpDzkm9f3BrIuoRq-jcXgsaq9UZ_oMv3Sr3Zsf8W0lEWWDsJ5EE-dpJbYbbJOUZ4nDl9EIfhgKAPocVGLSXMN95DNfoboGimW2Bi/s1600/DSCF0556.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimoDmJUuBlSq5F7JUOTwta7fQ9eQI3b4E92MkLhoQjTpDzkm9f3BrIuoRq-jcXgsaq9UZ_oMv3Sr3Zsf8W0lEWWDsJ5EE-dpJbYbbJOUZ4nDl9EIfhgKAPocVGLSXMN95DNfoboGimW2Bi/s400/DSCF0556.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562362941121522770" border="0" /></a>Intriguingly, up close, there were some interesting looking trails coming out of the bealach between the two hills. One for another day perhaps! Instead, I followed the road around, which brought me out in Glen Coe, at the foot of the iconic Buachaille Etive Mor cliffs.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9B362_5iH4niDiaq-EO5uY3nnjtMCKqnzElF0YdKuITY64puLZQpBBapD8Sf9GJetoFgS_jrHZf8PpMzMCrP90ASPms9mwLCH6MtXuEibDrV3xTZoD1X4jPSrk-Na4BtrGB40EdSx3V7w/s1600/DSCF0560.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9B362_5iH4niDiaq-EO5uY3nnjtMCKqnzElF0YdKuITY64puLZQpBBapD8Sf9GJetoFgS_jrHZf8PpMzMCrP90ASPms9mwLCH6MtXuEibDrV3xTZoD1X4jPSrk-Na4BtrGB40EdSx3V7w/s400/DSCF0560.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575469182463960818" border="0" /></a>'Tha Buachaille'. Too many photos and stories about this<br />hill elsewhere, pure Scottish mountaineering history...<br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdEKgFAZ5X10ivxxdO8UV9I-i55lXuQwrDogYpbL8JByJMfIi-OUvn0pD8aKIn7Mi6gbellohSqY5eeHut72sxA4vGfNsJAi_oulxa-TjBmyvF1Libk4txcLAlMMRoY4Z7iFA6QUupSZ-m/s1600/DSCF0563.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdEKgFAZ5X10ivxxdO8UV9I-i55lXuQwrDogYpbL8JByJMfIi-OUvn0pD8aKIn7Mi6gbellohSqY5eeHut72sxA4vGfNsJAi_oulxa-TjBmyvF1Libk4txcLAlMMRoY4Z7iFA6QUupSZ-m/s400/DSCF0563.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575469181364673458" border="0" /></a>Glen Coe looming, as only Glen Coe can.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><div style="text-align: left;">The best place to pitch your tent in Glen Coe is on the doorstep of the Glen's best pub, the Kingshouse. A tiny little back door pub full of West Highland Way-ists and climbers, with the occasional cyclist as well. This time I managed to catch the Champion's League final, although, having not learnt from previous experiences in Glen Coe pubs, I left my card behind the bar...<br /><br />The next day I made it out of the tent at a surprisingly reasonable hour, and was greeted with a pretty nice day. None-the-less, I skipped the usual route to Kinlochleven (via the Devil's Staircase) and followed the road down into Glen Coe. My reasoning was that I'd inevitably have to push the trailer up the staircase, and the rocks and waterbars on the descent could only lead to disaster. I'd ridden it before and could ride it again, just not this time...<br /><br />Following the coastal road instead, I rolled into Kinlochleven, grabbed a late breakfast at the Ice Factor climbing wall, and prepared to climb back out of the village up the West Highland Way to the Blackwater reservoir.<br /><br /></div></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Z4mDPPSuuGv_0XLwMCj6Oze6yvrqObjD3HdYFq02Gkkai-msT5vBJBU4QbBf4imycK_NHNdrrxBLdrg3VIY42EzZh1KzRjnRV2ZgxTwqDJT-Kql7ezvtaBEwf0NFkCxpTT8NKOLC0DKQ/s1600/DSCF0565.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Z4mDPPSuuGv_0XLwMCj6Oze6yvrqObjD3HdYFq02Gkkai-msT5vBJBU4QbBf4imycK_NHNdrrxBLdrg3VIY42EzZh1KzRjnRV2ZgxTwqDJT-Kql7ezvtaBEwf0NFkCxpTT8NKOLC0DKQ/s400/DSCF0565.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575469186697628562" border="0" /></a>Halfway up the climb, you can join the aquaduct from the dam. Looks like a road,<br />but actually contains several huge pipes transporting water to the hydro plant below.<br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8hyHDEK8KNa8-dAWGeS9pxgl4imltmcUJMQYkoJ9ZieHIFFk-3JdoyVTemCmCHL6oM-ZyTLjqC3SctM2CAlwCEqVBhh8KODrR_YJ_5woPYYGk57pM7sf8BbsIqjnKalFEOyKoq2Qq7kAK/s1600/DSCF0572.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8hyHDEK8KNa8-dAWGeS9pxgl4imltmcUJMQYkoJ9ZieHIFFk-3JdoyVTemCmCHL6oM-ZyTLjqC3SctM2CAlwCEqVBhh8KODrR_YJ_5woPYYGk57pM7sf8BbsIqjnKalFEOyKoq2Qq7kAK/s400/DSCF0572.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575469580627182562" border="0" /></a>Even highland roads aren't usually this precipitous!<br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuSA5ZrGEXoxLzdkF8hVls8EYLGVZB41EHOqhvoorQXUuTxwnmsp8w7IO05InTdQ4gbZWBJ-KaWh_dCvJR_yFKaZxiH1zlJa3oxBX6FXT2DMtrJxqOKLdm_RODVUMa_GXKqhtcsh-DglXP/s1600/DSCF0573.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 262px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuSA5ZrGEXoxLzdkF8hVls8EYLGVZB41EHOqhvoorQXUuTxwnmsp8w7IO05InTdQ4gbZWBJ-KaWh_dCvJR_yFKaZxiH1zlJa3oxBX6FXT2DMtrJxqOKLdm_RODVUMa_GXKqhtcsh-DglXP/s400/DSCF0573.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575469584436502994" border="0" /></a>Singletrack on the other side of the glen. This is known as the 'Ciaran Path'<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">in a lot of guidebooks, and looks stunning.<br /><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj75wb_L-ArtVTn4yHNu4_ZQs0Ve4Pve2AsRYL7BLLmLoZ60rm591ULik2xuFuSpWsSUSIEJtGMR0kGrYk1-FFUZ7cW33aROCA1O54WZwKTXY2gjT4OBGME9Oi0Td1eeAeRzseYRXuIYz_4/s1600/DSCF0575.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj75wb_L-ArtVTn4yHNu4_ZQs0Ve4Pve2AsRYL7BLLmLoZ60rm591ULik2xuFuSpWsSUSIEJtGMR0kGrYk1-FFUZ7cW33aROCA1O54WZwKTXY2gjT4OBGME9Oi0Td1eeAeRzseYRXuIYz_4/s400/DSCF0575.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575469586326617602" border="0" /></a>Looking back down the glen.<br /><br /></div><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1RXwdkh0dAfc8SGbUns01Z4-bJ7482DcAW8wlJpcpvRU_FpVYnvc9aufEjzjMlu53JQLiCNlFQB4X5gZhNo5YFkbah_Q5WSK2XFSpwFkMnaWSUQSGfJxMj3CDsGiWypiIcNaiDCBwZ0Vl/s1600/DSCF0578.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1RXwdkh0dAfc8SGbUns01Z4-bJ7482DcAW8wlJpcpvRU_FpVYnvc9aufEjzjMlu53JQLiCNlFQB4X5gZhNo5YFkbah_Q5WSK2XFSpwFkMnaWSUQSGfJxMj3CDsGiWypiIcNaiDCBwZ0Vl/s400/DSCF0578.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575469593411391730" border="0" /></a>This used to be the site of the construction 'village' where the labourers<br />lived and worked while building the dam. The small fenced area is the<br />graveyard for those who died on site. For a better account of the life of a<br />labourer at the dam, read 'Children of the Dead End' by Patrick MacGill.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8qrmMA45_c94__uTkXcCsgDdlXZmX4efOthu3msC_aurSX8lyPfxCHl3DJNyXXEcWgGksvyN6D3865yFyvgpyFUgn_foHYg9NcNzY45woZ8EWNgVxyqVXvBGgYTXBBAGIG4J31746XI-s/s1600/DSCF0593.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8qrmMA45_c94__uTkXcCsgDdlXZmX4efOthu3msC_aurSX8lyPfxCHl3DJNyXXEcWgGksvyN6D3865yFyvgpyFUgn_foHYg9NcNzY45woZ8EWNgVxyqVXvBGgYTXBBAGIG4J31746XI-s/s400/DSCF0593.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575481310604536322" border="0" /></a>Your objective: The Blackwater dam. Maybe its because I'm<br />an engineer by trade, or perhaps I'm just easily impressed,<br />but far from bemoaning the presence of these sort of structures<br />to the glens, sometimes I feel they add something.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqhNXxy1AvukvAmBYBxUWlZF1kejtFUCShLFp28fF52Xzj_YSGgwzXahagWDjTnjP9cVSejPJaMHdi-zYTTaHlAuZEMgg8xIXGo7dh5jLT_X0NwF6OTmVdvZ8HGm9O6DdrRAQp_VmDWedp/s1600/DSCF0603.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqhNXxy1AvukvAmBYBxUWlZF1kejtFUCShLFp28fF52Xzj_YSGgwzXahagWDjTnjP9cVSejPJaMHdi-zYTTaHlAuZEMgg8xIXGo7dh5jLT_X0NwF6OTmVdvZ8HGm9O6DdrRAQp_VmDWedp/s400/DSCF0603.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575481325838468738" border="0" /></a>The upper half of the 'Ciarain Path'. I've carefully omitted the 1km of<br />bog trotting required to find the start of the good path, just be assured its<br />worth it, or better yet, ride it in the other direction!<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVSIo5BZGSWKGJerODrtzeWUdEhRq3cnegbPcfmgu78H4RI7l5vkpyal7yvP7qS6HbUkAxbj6-cg2QSuGFfSW8guF5JoXU10A_h_9p0plL1FTE5QbPxzmdczLqFwwA0k_pojMLskAcEjFr/s1600/DSCF0600.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVSIo5BZGSWKGJerODrtzeWUdEhRq3cnegbPcfmgu78H4RI7l5vkpyal7yvP7qS6HbUkAxbj6-cg2QSuGFfSW8guF5JoXU10A_h_9p0plL1FTE5QbPxzmdczLqFwwA0k_pojMLskAcEjFr/s400/DSCF0600.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575481316541258962" border="0" /></a>More Ciarain Path, and more Herdsmen.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7TLFynRas6FHfnXCVR8_r_cIB_EmtE7CqEd3ZsU0Fz3cgP6UrwHQXsb0xYS8YM8ndiJXOUj-67QfC7OZh-PwlwBZ1zCpDnnG14vAfiBdxuxr0XyTSMQzkF0uvgpmM0MWG6irMPUYxF1Jv/s1600/DSCF0597.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7TLFynRas6FHfnXCVR8_r_cIB_EmtE7CqEd3ZsU0Fz3cgP6UrwHQXsb0xYS8YM8ndiJXOUj-67QfC7OZh-PwlwBZ1zCpDnnG14vAfiBdxuxr0XyTSMQzkF0uvgpmM0MWG6irMPUYxF1Jv/s400/DSCF0597.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575481312687513890" border="0" /></a>Beautiful.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaVns_UeTFwfW3tWmRAlH_ZqYBlNZYwSaOkrshpLP9iIA4lhUlk8bPGWQeXP0DHILAFIdpa2r-r_kolgImQc-QQiOC3k-HvvQr_Hahzbzvy7XgDTPBHEm38TSwdDGfVOWBwl0eEslUmeop/s1600/DSCF0604.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 166px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaVns_UeTFwfW3tWmRAlH_ZqYBlNZYwSaOkrshpLP9iIA4lhUlk8bPGWQeXP0DHILAFIdpa2r-r_kolgImQc-QQiOC3k-HvvQr_Hahzbzvy7XgDTPBHEm38TSwdDGfVOWBwl0eEslUmeop/s400/DSCF0604.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575481339572687746" border="0" /></a>And views to match.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">It continued this way until Loch Chiarain, where I expected to find another bothy. What I hadn't expected was a two story, modern looking mega-bothy such as the one I found.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3133tPZawU2wibtbGjs-vBRUu_GQlXZ14H-ySYiWorBPbRI2Ue7WtEprfTiKZEmZPkbSurfSDPzVwiQRbkTelt4ZcIHTEGmrB3p459fWO4KTogHJzkD5AzpwBo11hxDasN4ovUNTy8UAo/s1600/DSCF0614.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3133tPZawU2wibtbGjs-vBRUu_GQlXZ14H-ySYiWorBPbRI2Ue7WtEprfTiKZEmZPkbSurfSDPzVwiQRbkTelt4ZcIHTEGmrB3p459fWO4KTogHJzkD5AzpwBo11hxDasN4ovUNTy8UAo/s400/DSCF0614.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584038983574335426" border="0" /></a><br />When the Blackwater Dam was built, the house of a local family in the glen<br />was flooded. This was apparently the house built for them as a replacement,<br />which they never-the-less abandoned...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHBBYCo7mRL0CqrYw42B3jw3Ynzun9MAPEaSaJ17jFHLCusg2suKO6Kbuy1s-7LDKhq0_S45SAeyGwJn4-7L2gCgVpsrnSHzb0XVCLN8zVTuuqf7F4eYBwCztY03EBIHmTtgUls96XALWe/s1600/DSCF0611.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHBBYCo7mRL0CqrYw42B3jw3Ynzun9MAPEaSaJ17jFHLCusg2suKO6Kbuy1s-7LDKhq0_S45SAeyGwJn4-7L2gCgVpsrnSHzb0XVCLN8zVTuuqf7F4eYBwCztY03EBIHmTtgUls96XALWe/s400/DSCF0611.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584038964676179298" border="0" /></a>...which might be hard to understand in the summer,<br />when you've just enjoyed a fantastic ride to reach the place,<br />but I'll bet this gets bleak in February...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIFIQxuu0WM6FLpjJL5N34lZoD9IrPwV0fcS45mYhBmct8Wm-GG6skcrxiq86WjLSgZnYW0L74G6Cb5HzrDhd_3zckBLN3K9jzpcgjti6zmckf4-oT1NFDQTkeibdhrbvusHCXVakrcV2-/s1600/DSCF0613.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIFIQxuu0WM6FLpjJL5N34lZoD9IrPwV0fcS45mYhBmct8Wm-GG6skcrxiq86WjLSgZnYW0L74G6Cb5HzrDhd_3zckBLN3K9jzpcgjti6zmckf4-oT1NFDQTkeibdhrbvusHCXVakrcV2-/s400/DSCF0613.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584038968917519378" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvFxEyObdB2CtgKlJKCU8z6ZFn8g1C20LOv7cyaoLiY1f7OhC1_eOn9vDhd8SY3ZDb_SXX1zTpVZEnQfNxLGRBgBB3VxLkKWWAd9D0KqkFZQ5qxjbNmkrmi4N0qHqJr7TYfFA611IgMHQc/s1600/DSCF0617.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvFxEyObdB2CtgKlJKCU8z6ZFn8g1C20LOv7cyaoLiY1f7OhC1_eOn9vDhd8SY3ZDb_SXX1zTpVZEnQfNxLGRBgBB3VxLkKWWAd9D0KqkFZQ5qxjbNmkrmi4N0qHqJr7TYfFA611IgMHQc/s400/DSCF0617.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584038986139212562" border="0" /></a>Token shot of the bike outside the bothy<br />(I have a lot of bike-outside-bothy shots...)<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">The smoke curling out of the chimney was from a fire lit by a massive bear of a man staying in the bothy. He had been hiking through the area with a rucsac the size (and weight) of a small car, and he gave an alarming demonstration of how he could pop all his vertebrae back into alignment at the end of a long day, not a sound I wish to hear again for a while...<br /><br />He had sprained his ankle, so was resting up for a day or two. As entertainment, he had set about wresting some ancient preserved pine roots from the bogs nearby, and patiently stripping them into fibres which he used as kindling to gradually dry and then burn the bigger lumps. It was the early days of my bothy apprenticeship so I didn't understand why someone would go to such lengths to light a fire on a warm summer's night, but I've since learnt, EVERY bothy needs a fire, if at all possible. A bothy without a fire is just a cold dank ruined house, with mice.<br /><br />As we got chatting, a subtle game of one-upmanship developed (actually, this probably happens in any given outdoors situation when two or more men gather round a whisky). In this case, I started by making a cup of tea and offering him some, but he declined in favour of some licquorice thick coffee lurking in the bottom of his mug. Next I got my hip-flask out and offered him some nice 10 yr old Talisker, at which point he broke out the 18 yr old Ardbeg. It was perhaps foolish of me to then offer him a cigarette...<br /><br />Inevitably, that was the end of the day. The next day I had to make up some ground, so headed off as early as possible, straight back on to the fantastic trail.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-jSP6Esv7wUwEZEDFZE51jMGfrEc3i7E1pxZ5fljr7ezpuGItE5TdFu9NUSg0SXdnze2d-qdYxSJajQEhT0GUD2ibxJpM5woPMb8Kr8UzLYjDpR7pCk1Yo9GC-lhvblnWHeKLAbVJ9SQ8/s1600/DSCF0624.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-jSP6Esv7wUwEZEDFZE51jMGfrEc3i7E1pxZ5fljr7ezpuGItE5TdFu9NUSg0SXdnze2d-qdYxSJajQEhT0GUD2ibxJpM5woPMb8Kr8UzLYjDpR7pCk1Yo9GC-lhvblnWHeKLAbVJ9SQ8/s400/DSCF0624.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584043148139161074" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiriPPzbQD4htO0h8rfJJZTzK-rw_td41YIhxUEATVMOPv0zQEGHRJDmyqU83FQ1CVNX9S9U4KlYuN_n565vbknw5-30JohnNblRNWPI-tNhrQo0O9DzHQCNfGrH-MZ-IQ6bmYuk7gPfRTe/s1600/DSCF0625.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiriPPzbQD4htO0h8rfJJZTzK-rw_td41YIhxUEATVMOPv0zQEGHRJDmyqU83FQ1CVNX9S9U4KlYuN_n565vbknw5-30JohnNblRNWPI-tNhrQo0O9DzHQCNfGrH-MZ-IQ6bmYuk7gPfRTe/s400/DSCF0625.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584043150905389522" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzh0VDcfqySxoKGY6dJm1ukVpziTG08AAzaB_utWGHg0_0_1g2HlB6_SrUU6UA2-5EobiEz4_Xfhbl6MmYNulQi019ya1pxPdFDMcILn07NnkLn-0xTzgMoC_WoSlas7PkqGHE9c2h5RJA/s1600/DSCF0626.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzh0VDcfqySxoKGY6dJm1ukVpziTG08AAzaB_utWGHg0_0_1g2HlB6_SrUU6UA2-5EobiEz4_Xfhbl6MmYNulQi019ya1pxPdFDMcILn07NnkLn-0xTzgMoC_WoSlas7PkqGHE9c2h5RJA/s400/DSCF0626.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584043159301821362" border="0" /></a><br /></div></div></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPTXzUfi9_mIHxc6m8lp-lzvWYJoFiOHd3GRHuYm0tShaQ152pmAG9ZiFh1SYQWQnPy1mCxPNj16c4Pv4APoVVA3ddP3eFU4lXMhyphenhyphenRwgrmrKqJyEeJ-kfMpBiGQ5tjzul0BnhW-rClR6YK/s1600/DSCF0622.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPTXzUfi9_mIHxc6m8lp-lzvWYJoFiOHd3GRHuYm0tShaQ152pmAG9ZiFh1SYQWQnPy1mCxPNj16c4Pv4APoVVA3ddP3eFU4lXMhyphenhyphenRwgrmrKqJyEeJ-kfMpBiGQ5tjzul0BnhW-rClR6YK/s400/DSCF0622.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584043145089025330" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: left;">However, all good things must come to an end, although it seemed a little unfair that this particular trail got a bit crappy just before it pointed downhill. This is definitely a trail to ride the other way, something I intend to do at the next available opportunity.<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwwkFGym-P9yUjaUvdTIxBo_DvLAoSoOpYK-BQYlogR970OqGYK7XWlmKVBHvQ4S4UnZVGXGqxObebQ8mv0ZLgIf-HugQ44-_FNZvRQidhn_C9vTcWR92DArCCcIWI7uYctQbNvthJsRhf/s1600/DSCF0631.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwwkFGym-P9yUjaUvdTIxBo_DvLAoSoOpYK-BQYlogR970OqGYK7XWlmKVBHvQ4S4UnZVGXGqxObebQ8mv0ZLgIf-HugQ44-_FNZvRQidhn_C9vTcWR92DArCCcIWI7uYctQbNvthJsRhf/s400/DSCF0631.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584046084839567842" border="0" /></a>Loch Treig, Creaguaineach Lodge and Creag Guanach<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Having descended to the landrover track at the end of Loch Treig, I turned west again and headed for the bridge across the Abhainn Rath. The usual 'circuit' through this area takes you along the banks of the Abhainn Rath, having come from either Kinlochleven or Spean Bridge (via the 'high road' through Lairig Leacach).<br /></div></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTLEgwc5pxQCmiNFDJlLv2JhW-MYly9ZAUBA2ZMog2jRyAI_q1mzDzAk6ZL8F7ZjM9NWn6uUCHUxDKST-ZUk5l6rpmDvKervHbv2QR5lvkISLsnVudeqoP7SXUjO8DmPnOl3FCZkZA_fw8/s1600/DSCF0634.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTLEgwc5pxQCmiNFDJlLv2JhW-MYly9ZAUBA2ZMog2jRyAI_q1mzDzAk6ZL8F7ZjM9NWn6uUCHUxDKST-ZUk5l6rpmDvKervHbv2QR5lvkISLsnVudeqoP7SXUjO8DmPnOl3FCZkZA_fw8/s400/DSCF0634.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584046092298536258" border="0" /></a>Care to guess which way the wind blows along<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">this glen?<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQZV3XcowlsXQ8vsqMntNOfvW6w1TTxF7gn-cH968ODOwHDJJdbhJHZpMSd2hOq0PfJNZ5Qy1VShtdOecRbAYJKqlM6udkuHH5eyk-ulJscYHHGnKua9xnirNEsUJ7yEB_S2oq_oM92ubT/s1600/DSCF0636.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQZV3XcowlsXQ8vsqMntNOfvW6w1TTxF7gn-cH968ODOwHDJJdbhJHZpMSd2hOq0PfJNZ5Qy1VShtdOecRbAYJKqlM6udkuHH5eyk-ulJscYHHGnKua9xnirNEsUJ7yEB_S2oq_oM92ubT/s400/DSCF0636.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584046096318163362" border="0" /></a>Beautiful bridge, and if I say so myself, nice picture, if I'd<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">bothered to set the self timer properly that is!<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span>Unfortunately, with my usual blend of obstinance and dumb optimism, I decided to ignore the 'beaten paths' and chose a different route, the 'Low Road' through Lairig Leacach.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhniOfkxBV7CbLG4iMcUR9vHZmVOwhoRCTRDSQiIys1mW6gp72d40Aqu75OzNmok_MCcoEmV_ZhzfmqyPZTVsyeTgd0xqZe_7LceKeIRo_BSLuQqRDSHLU1XN8njlifcf_hNweLCd2aijZu/s1600/DSCF0630.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhniOfkxBV7CbLG4iMcUR9vHZmVOwhoRCTRDSQiIys1mW6gp72d40Aqu75OzNmok_MCcoEmV_ZhzfmqyPZTVsyeTgd0xqZe_7LceKeIRo_BSLuQqRDSHLU1XN8njlifcf_hNweLCd2aijZu/s400/DSCF0630.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584046089933227762" border="0" /></a>Glen of Insufferable Bogginess.<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;">What an epic trudge it turned out to be. Initial signs were good:<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp-nnYrVCyhMPzXb-KNhGLXc_wxx5_lzj8tEVSBUaIrN83h1W5TnFRw9UyLgMpBtZBVpJTmgzlcV2zksedF9A7VS9v0EPnapN5Ru_SX8CYABOJagNmrh_YGyydg8LQufr6Wo4ZuaEvEwbK/s1600/DSCF0637.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp-nnYrVCyhMPzXb-KNhGLXc_wxx5_lzj8tEVSBUaIrN83h1W5TnFRw9UyLgMpBtZBVpJTmgzlcV2zksedF9A7VS9v0EPnapN5Ru_SX8CYABOJagNmrh_YGyydg8LQufr6Wo4ZuaEvEwbK/s400/DSCF0637.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584053011458559154" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCg53p4lNlr9nHwW2O7VlHOhslv1sJ8jm4NcEAJH0TQbhNe2UaV01SMOHQTb5FkuEjUZs0nNWyMe6aSAuZgaFuC4YXDPqpijkgzjSijew46FrjeKuv4xAAG-e3H-7GC0dPSE92IpHqOrEg/s1600/DSCF0639.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCg53p4lNlr9nHwW2O7VlHOhslv1sJ8jm4NcEAJH0TQbhNe2UaV01SMOHQTb5FkuEjUZs0nNWyMe6aSAuZgaFuC4YXDPqpijkgzjSijew46FrjeKuv4xAAG-e3H-7GC0dPSE92IpHqOrEg/s400/DSCF0639.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584053015513669666" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizWaGdMJ71Cp2MQItJIyUBBoyP7eNGCIV2ZJSZhOO7ZfStlBx5bORIDfXyryZooUpLiDUqLcbtaVAoFhymon6VSbb7oOzzXFAZFAMJJK8g0jhwmLsFTYAoNGW1LGwWlMJ982Lnhl0PISTH/s1600/DSCF0641.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizWaGdMJ71Cp2MQItJIyUBBoyP7eNGCIV2ZJSZhOO7ZfStlBx5bORIDfXyryZooUpLiDUqLcbtaVAoFhymon6VSbb7oOzzXFAZFAMJJK8g0jhwmLsFTYAoNGW1LGwWlMJ982Lnhl0PISTH/s400/DSCF0641.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584053019783982610" border="0" /></a><br />But the Tolkein-esque gorge suddenly opened out into a great big boggy strath, and the 'riding' took a depressingly familiar turn for the worse:<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAwRplFvYZNX24P9oLyfU2AV3FklJocDYEN250b0_-Wbja2lncBvwyrf8INxJZhbQTG7oSHrhyphenhyphenJ10K-XRzl9oYnQKLivP6qgxjWgLoCTtqpQoGWuzL60mSMKsv7BLipibaFPggt_ierxwa/s1600/DSCF0651.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAwRplFvYZNX24P9oLyfU2AV3FklJocDYEN250b0_-Wbja2lncBvwyrf8INxJZhbQTG7oSHrhyphenhyphenJ10K-XRzl9oYnQKLivP6qgxjWgLoCTtqpQoGWuzL60mSMKsv7BLipibaFPggt_ierxwa/s400/DSCF0651.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584053025038001458" border="0" /></a>Bad<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_vSmoyfrrZ0Yfn850B7R1SPNBNky7_l29mreY-u8aPTCRnkJvYVFYcZ4gtWRIFrI4gXwBEpQSuWSBRsmXhvIE_GUZGc19cXxJ5BJxpqkYNYQeK8svYuS4bonb0vcnuyidz712JLT7SXGA/s1600/DSCF0650.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_vSmoyfrrZ0Yfn850B7R1SPNBNky7_l29mreY-u8aPTCRnkJvYVFYcZ4gtWRIFrI4gXwBEpQSuWSBRsmXhvIE_GUZGc19cXxJ5BJxpqkYNYQeK8svYuS4bonb0vcnuyidz712JLT7SXGA/s400/DSCF0650.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584053022622376450" border="0" /></a>Worse<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEituEsJl3rmlhk8MRP2c7hq1NQjTLacY9WeJ8T39eEA1ubrIMHESn7ffyOTff6t4iIPXjW1YiwdXRBjjJAWCzICLTZRqPW2EBEH4mn8IuO0pxK0FlofLhpZlx5WaM4LFkAigcoU0skRouMo/s1600/DSCF0645.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEituEsJl3rmlhk8MRP2c7hq1NQjTLacY9WeJ8T39eEA1ubrIMHESn7ffyOTff6t4iIPXjW1YiwdXRBjjJAWCzICLTZRqPW2EBEH4mn8IuO0pxK0FlofLhpZlx5WaM4LFkAigcoU0skRouMo/s400/DSCF0645.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584054081790075330" border="0" /></a>For bloody <span style="font-style: italic;">miles.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgApKzq4ompS-aaTq9U0e22iY-2A1GrNQkgoDNez5vlr9pjlB6NIeKp8gFZRBVqww49zeI_TBNm2dORjnRYm8KE1siRu0g0pLz29vrQ-qPgi4U-ftIaQumkAkDv3C-oRNwx7ptxyhRWgQsa/s1600/DSCF0648.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgApKzq4ompS-aaTq9U0e22iY-2A1GrNQkgoDNez5vlr9pjlB6NIeKp8gFZRBVqww49zeI_TBNm2dORjnRYm8KE1siRu0g0pLz29vrQ-qPgi4U-ftIaQumkAkDv3C-oRNwx7ptxyhRWgQsa/s400/DSCF0648.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584054098697620770" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtdZ-MaHfSMqGsF_W_79jSsYt0YrlDwANbViTkKRW6nyt60NKAJvOUFp-QjSyirgLEuy4XJCZbt1NxYtpY8Jz1NliO2FLFH37jNDy0CO3SYf5o7leeG1trgUj0iejKNSavG_jrT_x8dp5_/s1600/DSCF0646.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtdZ-MaHfSMqGsF_W_79jSsYt0YrlDwANbViTkKRW6nyt60NKAJvOUFp-QjSyirgLEuy4XJCZbt1NxYtpY8Jz1NliO2FLFH37jNDy0CO3SYf5o7leeG1trgUj0iejKNSavG_jrT_x8dp5_/s400/DSCF0646.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584054087741168050" border="0" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Nothing like a couple of good waterfalls to lift your spirits though...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5zLlfqazb_enwvb5lhTYv3EFyou6rCQ1Pn9NEyJvFCsOgyun1uCvfOtD-K2bP36zsxLszJPmRLx6-ZBrMWLbK1JCM1WQoS3KAJkMMdyq5Qwuy9U6jq_36YwC-flmU8erA0gWMvKUeKvCn/s1600/DSCF0656.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5zLlfqazb_enwvb5lhTYv3EFyou6rCQ1Pn9NEyJvFCsOgyun1uCvfOtD-K2bP36zsxLszJPmRLx6-ZBrMWLbK1JCM1WQoS3KAJkMMdyq5Qwuy9U6jq_36YwC-flmU8erA0gWMvKUeKvCn/s400/DSCF0656.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584057267753631954" border="0" /></a>Or, for that matter, a big spikey mountain... (Sgurre Innse)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgawftec7Aqv4majw4jaCINDbE5CGEsA9IVwqYgN0TAlPs8umLAQfOqNppYKmXf96eyoIdtE5cp3Hc9wNE-RMEXXNb7X2HWEoxi48-yxGXRjQQAaWWKL6RdpJZ8HXb_ODHRQP4wQGo5WCUA/s1600/DSCF0654.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgawftec7Aqv4majw4jaCINDbE5CGEsA9IVwqYgN0TAlPs8umLAQfOqNppYKmXf96eyoIdtE5cp3Hc9wNE-RMEXXNb7X2HWEoxi48-yxGXRjQQAaWWKL6RdpJZ8HXb_ODHRQP4wQGo5WCUA/s400/DSCF0654.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584057272175392242" border="0" /></a>...half a bothy...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnghRWtTadTE9GUIuUgbItRSbzGAP7Tq8PW3oDn9ro2SEfwNSk04XgTq0GCoImUalKL7VXH_FCvNP6qkxtwLUOWR20ME8gcxe_dznivxgzrHw-4ywH3kyzAjenjxK4q9FENdsLAEeBJ1vW/s1600/DSCF0660.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnghRWtTadTE9GUIuUgbItRSbzGAP7Tq8PW3oDn9ro2SEfwNSk04XgTq0GCoImUalKL7VXH_FCvNP6qkxtwLUOWR20ME8gcxe_dznivxgzrHw-4ywH3kyzAjenjxK4q9FENdsLAEeBJ1vW/s400/DSCF0660.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584057279938973234" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO9dtEdDF43XePuKUgtya75smqnA6F4e5b43NMwU979AIR067HM61wlldXfW5zuA5Xh_g8rLgStwJTnxiEIJ3U4sT5wSHnpBRIMI7tqoKxKQXCEAZevErcUe19XaYJ6z-E_NO6UEVAWIrG/s1600/DSCF0659.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO9dtEdDF43XePuKUgtya75smqnA6F4e5b43NMwU979AIR067HM61wlldXfW5zuA5Xh_g8rLgStwJTnxiEIJ3U4sT5wSHnpBRIMI7tqoKxKQXCEAZevErcUe19XaYJ6z-E_NO6UEVAWIrG/s400/DSCF0659.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584057274889326962" border="0" /></a>...or a big fast winding landrover track back to civilisation!<br />(big fast winding landrover tracks are 100% more fun with<br />10kg+ of trailer pushing from behind...)<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">And that was the end of the trip, basically. My original plans had been for three more days following the Great Glen Way to Invergarry, then the Cam Bealach to Loch Garry, and THEN the minor road to Kinlochhourne, and THEN the Mam Barrisdale track to Inverie in Knoydart. Rolling into Spean Bridge though, I decided just to find a campsite, rest up for the night and clean some clothes, before deciding what to do the next day.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW4T69AY4uIrjyVivN5OWMAN8g3lTTqDSJIla27KoeYUX_v6WZYtQ_6I4yYAvIukdJSLa7URC-mYo2NIUJl2oQQ7mc1YCDXEVP6RnV8etoiZdgF6g_DXsyBG58URxNx5pmqy6-SX6KkCLa/s1600/DSCF0668.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW4T69AY4uIrjyVivN5OWMAN8g3lTTqDSJIla27KoeYUX_v6WZYtQ_6I4yYAvIukdJSLa7URC-mYo2NIUJl2oQQ7mc1YCDXEVP6RnV8etoiZdgF6g_DXsyBG58URxNx5pmqy6-SX6KkCLa/s400/DSCF0668.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584059132157255394" border="0" /></a>Say goodbye to the mountains...<br /></div></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieCpZjFuqZo384QIpmnUgNbND_9XZoxotbPxRrl1CBCq6ijyNweX93zUGDy66Y0VjaOl7pQc2m44sA35GlP4fa7B9y5E5M-wYEw22XtblmeVqgPNXG4mYShje5rYLfJ1GMgqsJRAZgo2Q4/s1600/DSCF0671.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieCpZjFuqZo384QIpmnUgNbND_9XZoxotbPxRrl1CBCq6ijyNweX93zUGDy66Y0VjaOl7pQc2m44sA35GlP4fa7B9y5E5M-wYEw22XtblmeVqgPNXG4mYShje5rYLfJ1GMgqsJRAZgo2Q4/s400/DSCF0671.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584059136806818722" border="0" /></a>Bugger off sign, I want food and bed!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU7utqasbuNuM4CLDySZ60a95ZpXrvtGK8E5bZnmIDMZ6M-KIyv8rhVWbkaYYyrLEMlr6nZ60INR_onV8m37C15IuYbkWdEASMZWrFti356X7JFdXEZb1150ThIyVZi2JyLoW-G881cOmh/s1600/DSCF0672.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU7utqasbuNuM4CLDySZ60a95ZpXrvtGK8E5bZnmIDMZ6M-KIyv8rhVWbkaYYyrLEMlr6nZ60INR_onV8m37C15IuYbkWdEASMZWrFti356X7JFdXEZb1150ThIyVZi2JyLoW-G881cOmh/s400/DSCF0672.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584059139025431362" border="0" /></a>Showing me the way to the pub.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br />And that, as they say, was that. A family funeral unfortunately made my decision for me, however I had had my fill of wilderness and bogs for one trip, and after all, Knoydart deserves better than tired legs and worn chains. For another trip...<br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqiI6Cp-8LNOYcL_iy_f6i7MR2_BH4zhPWKj3Xr0kzGQsXjprwcCVWaPq6EPsLHch9zPE-X0VxbuSM2wFUh5_PP4UEDGWr-22G2hepXRW1E6lKBYybQIkfXDlYaHK0CHrszwl6WLAwUY_O/s1600/IMG_0661.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqiI6Cp-8LNOYcL_iy_f6i7MR2_BH4zhPWKj3Xr0kzGQsXjprwcCVWaPq6EPsLHch9zPE-X0VxbuSM2wFUh5_PP4UEDGWr-22G2hepXRW1E6lKBYybQIkfXDlYaHK0CHrszwl6WLAwUY_O/s400/IMG_0661.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584062252467491138" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Fin.<br /></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Ianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12038546134695957686noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3631264177116850257.post-6201488039807694332010-11-26T20:00:00.026+00:002010-12-13T21:55:35.000+00:00Like a fool to his folly: Loch Lomond to Spean Bridge with the B.o.B. Pt.1My first outing with a B.o.B. trailer (see <a href="http://ianezzi.blogspot.com/2010/11/learning-from-my-mistakes-benderloch.html">here</a>) had been an unmitigated success, despite the pushing, and the swearing, and the willful malevolence of the overloaded trailer. As such, I saw no reason not to do it all again, except further.<br /><br />This time though I left the harmonica and the hiking boots at home...<br /><br /><a name='more'></a><br /><br />The route took me from the fringes of Strathclyde, through Argyll via Arrochar, Inveraray, Loch Awe and Oban, and into deepest Lochaber through Glen Etive, Glen Coe, Kinlochleven and Spean Bridge.<br /><br />Day 1 of the trip though was all about riding Ben Lomond with some friends from Edinburgh Bicycle Co-op. Our plan was to set up camp at the foot of the hill, enjoy a pleasant night discussing subjects of merit, before making an early push for the summit to catch the sunrise and then descend back off the hill.<br /><br />The campsite was idyllic, but the midgies were fiendish, so we had to entertain ourselves with games such as 'ride off the big rock into the smaller rocks' and 'drink the beer'*<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH2SL_vU6pR4ogcybTp11A3Kv2uYvrfmkSF81LNjikxhv-5_Z3iWgRlw3GTmeG33dPsKUyLP6AhzxUtoFgxbg510e5_4_YYh4SFTpSm1qDflXd_RLkyfMdQB_jfhiBIKRK4Hylz_iu3_z-/s1600/DSCF0383.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH2SL_vU6pR4ogcybTp11A3Kv2uYvrfmkSF81LNjikxhv-5_Z3iWgRlw3GTmeG33dPsKUyLP6AhzxUtoFgxbg510e5_4_YYh4SFTpSm1qDflXd_RLkyfMdQB_jfhiBIKRK4Hylz_iu3_z-/s400/DSCF0383.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543958483211104530" border="0" /></a>Marty contemplating some small rocks from atop a large rock.<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqZHtGjijB3OatNUxduXmHQ3SkBMrDZVbxWpBUxpbkmOjzgI3nzycBxE_ReutPYotNlgOYtoMICqW3BMNH8EgHned41fFbhmG7RDSS9TX_mHRE8JmrVuLaI0UybZKPy_Vwv8FyRHwWFqNz/s1600/DSCF0380.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqZHtGjijB3OatNUxduXmHQ3SkBMrDZVbxWpBUxpbkmOjzgI3nzycBxE_ReutPYotNlgOYtoMICqW3BMNH8EgHned41fFbhmG7RDSS9TX_mHRE8JmrVuLaI0UybZKPy_Vwv8FyRHwWFqNz/s400/DSCF0380.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543958474735711154" border="0" /></a>Rich contemplating a beer.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1gZ8u1FUgglfxjfVAI0kGx8-zvA-dU4tYrxTrqA3i53WBxmmfZF4J4xNTDbNXvUJ_nUJWqjsjlB9xEJh8w63GC-vrZhJ9Q-1daS_UGcCgND_sGH98cjwMys-KMJkp3JzqMrvVAUhD0hgl/s1600/DSCF0384.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1gZ8u1FUgglfxjfVAI0kGx8-zvA-dU4tYrxTrqA3i53WBxmmfZF4J4xNTDbNXvUJ_nUJWqjsjlB9xEJh8w63GC-vrZhJ9Q-1daS_UGcCgND_sGH98cjwMys-KMJkp3JzqMrvVAUhD0hgl/s400/DSCF0384.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543958489941288850" border="0" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: center;">Marty walking straight out of a Howies catalogue.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">It wasn't long before a campfire was lit, despite my best efforts to put it out by supplying armfuls of damp driftwood from the beach. The course was set for the night and it was beginning to look like the summit of Ben Lomond would survive unmolested...<br /><br /><br /></div></div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiajmY9ROW2NqHx4KGEQ0lGZ-Y_LCB1DPc8HENtf2qJ9KTefMfdtTNvWy8ZMCvIU69Xw_DU963JlHLPoCzy9f4ZSLC5qno7VNMJf77nT244SRp79dOSHQaCb__OjNtMd0aG44Z67k5mfPmw/s1600/DSCF0393.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiajmY9ROW2NqHx4KGEQ0lGZ-Y_LCB1DPc8HENtf2qJ9KTefMfdtTNvWy8ZMCvIU69Xw_DU963JlHLPoCzy9f4ZSLC5qno7VNMJf77nT244SRp79dOSHQaCb__OjNtMd0aG44Z67k5mfPmw/s400/DSCF0393.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543962982166777778" border="0" /></a>Ray Mears would have been sorely disappointed...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGiqC9vBKHidB9zoi1I35buCCF2di2KyEM_NIZmUqMMpYmVhlWinZMmvyJtWN3Bff2HFH_40Y0fXBeAxdoR4bkuAgbMqyCgwB6vuw1DaQLZhfWsLoH5AHQA_fRK9DUFLTgxVVFjwGK7u0n/s1600/DSCF0392.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 275px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGiqC9vBKHidB9zoi1I35buCCF2di2KyEM_NIZmUqMMpYmVhlWinZMmvyJtWN3Bff2HFH_40Y0fXBeAxdoR4bkuAgbMqyCgwB6vuw1DaQLZhfWsLoH5AHQA_fRK9DUFLTgxVVFjwGK7u0n/s400/DSCF0392.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543962979748776978" border="0" /></a>Dancing with the midgies in the moonlight.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">It was with some reluctance that we eventually turned in for three hours sleep, and with even more reluctance that we got up again and prepared to push up the hill in the dark.<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUe9Q_VNvSa_rTWTJgK31ydD-yYFUflb-bgacZwVCVnaOjhW9uUAABb8QRCAZtlZfA8bgcziOIebEKaTd96CoSeLVZnzO2NeRFOvVz-rSWuPs8g0hYpAoNKk_32NnHD3QgWAEKbFlniRJI/s1600/paul+pier.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUe9Q_VNvSa_rTWTJgK31ydD-yYFUflb-bgacZwVCVnaOjhW9uUAABb8QRCAZtlZfA8bgcziOIebEKaTd96CoSeLVZnzO2NeRFOvVz-rSWuPs8g0hYpAoNKk_32NnHD3QgWAEKbFlniRJI/s400/paul+pier.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543962989282941970" border="0" /></a>Paul looking a lot happier than any of us felt...<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br />Our climb was punctuated half way up by a collie dog, running down the hill towards us barking its head off. It was followed shortly after by its owner, resplendant in red Y-fronts and looking as dignified as a man can in the morning mist, halfway up a mountain, in his pants. He bid us a gruff good morning, picked the dog up by the scruff of its neck and disappeared back into the mist. Speechless, we carried on, trying to understand/forget what we had just seen.<br /><br />I would love to say we then reached the top of the hill to the first rays of a new rising sun** but instead we were greeted with some very low, very cold, cloud. Deciding discretion was the better part of valour, and that hangovers were the better part of both, we turned tail and fled, having made it probably almost certainly almost all the way to the top.<br /><br />On the way down we woke the collie dog again...<br /><br /><br /><br />Day 2 dawned a couple of hours later, and I bid farewell to the <a href="http://www.edinburghbicycle.com/">EBC crew</a> after a hasty pot of porridge, rushing to catch the ferry across the water to Inverbeg. The road out of Inverbeg and into Glen Douglas was a harsh reminder of the previous night's whisky and attempted push up a Munro, however it eventually flattened out, meandering through several farmyards and a great big M.O.D. base up on the hillside. I didn't tempt fate by stopping for any pictures.<br /><br />Just before the plunge down to the shores of Loch Long, I turned north onto an old landrover track that traverses the hillside to Arrochar. The track was steep and rocky in places, leaving a trail of bananas behind me that had been shaken loose from the trailer.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ9Ton9TrfHAYqxgAiL-Xu3OK6z1ybLBXHGL6QeJ14LnZSE7bhbqyrn5KHxoU-ir5L2x_g9vjdyavbPfigWqxRJN4RYciD2u78AL2vyNqLd4k81dueDbUxwWDx8VaJTfMdVQw8X76ieff9/s1600/DSCF0414.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ9Ton9TrfHAYqxgAiL-Xu3OK6z1ybLBXHGL6QeJ14LnZSE7bhbqyrn5KHxoU-ir5L2x_g9vjdyavbPfigWqxRJN4RYciD2u78AL2vyNqLd4k81dueDbUxwWDx8VaJTfMdVQw8X76ieff9/s400/DSCF0414.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543973131586433250" border="0" /></a>The road to Arrochar<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglXDpEPW6LMSsgAkFvk8pCj2pe1YtVgY0bN05YzzAnBdmGv-FbDWaz0N-bk0iBLliLjBCwxYHNaItfQ0wW930iOgv4d0gtZaYe6bqA-J_gMIw5ykbLh10QXZvMzojf9zH44IRHs_0LqhPU/s1600/DSCF0417.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglXDpEPW6LMSsgAkFvk8pCj2pe1YtVgY0bN05YzzAnBdmGv-FbDWaz0N-bk0iBLliLjBCwxYHNaItfQ0wW930iOgv4d0gtZaYe6bqA-J_gMIw5ykbLh10QXZvMzojf9zH44IRHs_0LqhPU/s400/DSCF0417.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543973136467768418" border="0" /></a>Arrochar<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxCRN9nEnhetDoYOt2vu9ozrG8YFCrghj4emTi6g61JsF3VNT7GCm_xURgw3v_N3aLLHTtp0rWwfLnEGoyR48ejNLu7kkHVdsztHSStGz0vQrvp8Me6n7PUnTKAs_667gifMlm1Jx7fSX7/s1600/DSCF0412.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxCRN9nEnhetDoYOt2vu9ozrG8YFCrghj4emTi6g61JsF3VNT7GCm_xURgw3v_N3aLLHTtp0rWwfLnEGoyR48ejNLu7kkHVdsztHSStGz0vQrvp8Me6n7PUnTKAs_667gifMlm1Jx7fSX7/s400/DSCF0412.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543973140946891858" border="0" /></a>The Cobbler. If you squint really hard at the summit, you can <span style="font-style: italic;">just</span> make<br />out the outline of... a bunch of rocks. I've no idea why its called The Cobbler.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">A brief snooze on the shores of Loch Long saw me refreshed and ready to ride down one side of the Ardgartan Peninsula to my campsite for the night, although unbeknownst to me (at the time) there is a bothy in them thar woods...<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgflXA3rpHskAXDmNNqwLGXTtB7esP-TW7-L8-eNlcOxo_apBLCAEWlRijhIQqzZ79SoenYhrIEW0fCutKSRS56NQUSSq7UYOLy-AKDaE94K4pn0Mfgk6Gnmxl9dDFt8roEL1xy_Kcm4mYV/s1600/DSCF0428.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgflXA3rpHskAXDmNNqwLGXTtB7esP-TW7-L8-eNlcOxo_apBLCAEWlRijhIQqzZ79SoenYhrIEW0fCutKSRS56NQUSSq7UYOLy-AKDaE94K4pn0Mfgk6Gnmxl9dDFt8roEL1xy_Kcm4mYV/s400/DSCF0428.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543977156444039570" border="0" /></a>Peninsula path.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfATgNE0VqkkWK6BkXwHVcA00dU_wGE3iZWzRxHLPtQbcqdNKl0fjd31tv0N7_aAB_A31XhHaYMUTI78QW2jC5AoEbbzlUgVRS_dQxc-EWY6OX2zr7aCzNwmP8DaCYzr0Ql5kXg12cZzdv/s1600/DSCF0419.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfATgNE0VqkkWK6BkXwHVcA00dU_wGE3iZWzRxHLPtQbcqdNKl0fjd31tv0N7_aAB_A31XhHaYMUTI78QW2jC5AoEbbzlUgVRS_dQxc-EWY6OX2zr7aCzNwmP8DaCYzr0Ql5kXg12cZzdv/s400/DSCF0419.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543977178936124578" border="0" /></a>Ben Lomond from the Peninsula. It wasn't <span style="font-style: italic;">that</span> many hours ago<br />we were attempting to push up that...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAq91I-giz3X5YheqnK5ZnqykYjjUnCFLlguXE1SuF5Hp0CKDlnjPKe_O6Z09iIBleTAOTfz09j8UN26UXbay-bdunOhihfe3BENutJS3q-lV3mjEBNVS0AS6zaeDOrG5dC7uHnRVNET6S/s1600/DSCF0438.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAq91I-giz3X5YheqnK5ZnqykYjjUnCFLlguXE1SuF5Hp0CKDlnjPKe_O6Z09iIBleTAOTfz09j8UN26UXbay-bdunOhihfe3BENutJS3q-lV3mjEBNVS0AS6zaeDOrG5dC7uHnRVNET6S/s400/DSCF0438.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543977184464712626" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbxnN8MtatuuccptyPRD6j3p2DupjCSFRnMJ85oBlEIVRQHnvzhGBrXQEm4STUpD8-jrtDHioe5Jz_GiDYZ6IKZw8ymoBKIenka-o-QKKz_FK1A306NpXaf9-CURMK7WX_OnjGvG5ErMsE/s1600/DSCF0436.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbxnN8MtatuuccptyPRD6j3p2DupjCSFRnMJ85oBlEIVRQHnvzhGBrXQEm4STUpD8-jrtDHioe5Jz_GiDYZ6IKZw8ymoBKIenka-o-QKKz_FK1A306NpXaf9-CURMK7WX_OnjGvG5ErMsE/s400/DSCF0436.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543977183273812786" border="0" /></a>Corran Lochan campsite.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Day 3.<br /><br />Day 3 was shaped slightly by my appetite for fried food. I wanted a minimum of a bacon and egg roll, but was really pining for a good fry up. I made do with more porridge at the campsite and set off north again, above the shores of Loch Goil this time. A more interesting trail than the other side of the peninsula, I even set my personal best for the trailer high jump competition when I manualed through a dried out puddle at speed. This was an experience I was anxious never to repeat.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu_apb4cNSYHM5U6dwRNY38yzL4uMnmJ_lLHEw42qrbBSg9YZwbpca_y6jzNafLqGV9cvxP_Rgs9Ebv7tvGLLbMlIXkO-0662AwggoT5H9H38C65j3Lg-lyY98kFo1G0M072fmzWUK72r7/s1600/DSCF0443.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu_apb4cNSYHM5U6dwRNY38yzL4uMnmJ_lLHEw42qrbBSg9YZwbpca_y6jzNafLqGV9cvxP_Rgs9Ebv7tvGLLbMlIXkO-0662AwggoT5H9H38C65j3Lg-lyY98kFo1G0M072fmzWUK72r7/s400/DSCF0443.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549883119485509570" border="0" /></a>A quick stop above Lochgoilhead while waiting<br />for the trailer to settle down..<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Lochgoilhead is a great wee place, with inquisitive otters/pine martens in the village shop, and scores of kayakers out in the water. Nowhere to get a fry-up unfortunately, so I continued north to the waterfalls above the village.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZWNtUgYhA7CiE-HH8ZCheFaql1INDWDD6ib5kIB67N-4L7A6lpaJiJWHlmkGW3d0rG7mS_3wCZ0SBqUQ7uAX8dv0U5zpFwIu_2xl1N91K_UDlK0uzXikWHO9hnvd5tqnCDohDxjSOeIua/s1600/DSCF0448.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZWNtUgYhA7CiE-HH8ZCheFaql1INDWDD6ib5kIB67N-4L7A6lpaJiJWHlmkGW3d0rG7mS_3wCZ0SBqUQ7uAX8dv0U5zpFwIu_2xl1N91K_UDlK0uzXikWHO9hnvd5tqnCDohDxjSOeIua/s400/DSCF0448.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549883123364659234" border="0" /></a>A steep and nervous climb through a herd of highland cows<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">led to a bridge over the river...<br /></div><br /></div></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtPaTmVqrzNwOF6z2PQdJqQmoCt6Ajg4nVFFy51V4h_wlhP5pkf8HSWXtB9mlxKx6ToupO7uup-WnzhufwSsYB5k528-frJsLY8qxg14Qek2BplBmH7WOAz1cfhvf9uKihLteJUuq9pNL7/s1600/DSCF0449.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtPaTmVqrzNwOF6z2PQdJqQmoCt6Ajg4nVFFy51V4h_wlhP5pkf8HSWXtB9mlxKx6ToupO7uup-WnzhufwSsYB5k528-frJsLY8qxg14Qek2BplBmH7WOAz1cfhvf9uKihLteJUuq9pNL7/s400/DSCF0449.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549883126971424994" border="0" /></a>...and some exposed singletrack above it!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">The descent back down from the waterfalls was excellent, very steep and with some good tight corners, with added red squirrels to avoid on the way down. A couple of miles on the road led to the climb back into the forest, and an uneventful fireroad slog to the top of the Rest and Be Thankful.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWX1qY4vvafz2TKdz6B7UAJCFXhGWXnO9mU2rQcymKInEYKNTV51VVI17LLY0ZHpvdxLiN8vVhoRvw0-NRYa9iNEOJwjF_JLhk8m2EPq6x76Gi1u-EQhPzgs-mTCnzhNT-FBj3CHnV08Nx/s1600/DSCF0458.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWX1qY4vvafz2TKdz6B7UAJCFXhGWXnO9mU2rQcymKInEYKNTV51VVI17LLY0ZHpvdxLiN8vVhoRvw0-NRYa9iNEOJwjF_JLhk8m2EPq6x76Gi1u-EQhPzgs-mTCnzhNT-FBj3CHnV08Nx/s400/DSCF0458.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549886860587075090" border="0" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: center;">Hello, whats this? Five years later, when I eventually<br />gave in and bought a road bike, this was the first road<br />I headed for. Descent from the Rest and Be Thankful<br />viewpoint back to Lochgoilhead.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0iWmXkpvlqqHZxb4SFN2fejIUtQ175-kwSpp37FGDLbH53mCSmjaVcdSl2sgGWyyiY5Yb3otNIXEIsObcdsxehVMYmC-O19PP4djNlLNkPsLqmm8cRt59E4Z33z9DDstuKoWFJasHx9Fw/s1600/DSCF0461.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0iWmXkpvlqqHZxb4SFN2fejIUtQ175-kwSpp37FGDLbH53mCSmjaVcdSl2sgGWyyiY5Yb3otNIXEIsObcdsxehVMYmC-O19PP4djNlLNkPsLqmm8cRt59E4Z33z9DDstuKoWFJasHx9Fw/s400/DSCF0461.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549886868011243922" border="0" /></a>Rest and Be Thankful viewpoint, with, from top to bottom:<br />The backside of the Cobbler (so to speak..)<br />The new Rest and Be Thankful (between landslips)<br />The old Rest and be Thankful (full of cows)<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Being a viewpoint on a major A-road, I was confident I would find some sort of greasy spoon type catering van at the top of the hill, and I wasn't disappointed. Bacon and Egg roll of the gods! Sated, I immediately pointed the bike back down the hill, and followed the beautiful tarmac road back down towards Lochgoilhead, turning west halfway down for a rendezvous with 'Hell's Glen'.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6buhFjx9alUiaweZ30QD3h1VTEeaIRnW_GrjcTnaIXOf4bvOtbiiQvXBCggiNAOqQLEhfqrlxL2qTuhW98wP8tFAaRkdsvSdlwkFIX58TBF33C0Qpa9qhxRziWi9zXBR0N0f5ksOm51qX/s1600/DSCF0466.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6buhFjx9alUiaweZ30QD3h1VTEeaIRnW_GrjcTnaIXOf4bvOtbiiQvXBCggiNAOqQLEhfqrlxL2qTuhW98wP8tFAaRkdsvSdlwkFIX58TBF33C0Qpa9qhxRziWi9zXBR0N0f5ksOm51qX/s400/DSCF0466.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549889355519681074" border="0" /></a>Moses Well, halfway up Hell's Glen. I still haven't figured out<br /></div></div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;">how it works...<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_srj625cnuI7yoLIodwtZa9RpmIwgTIjcHZaONuoBdXh9tvzxAISEMG6LlrD1YHY1T0KQDIOy3IgH45i96C56KctVYsA63DZX1UGyqkueLDmhNdq-mxuRYaPLrit2cfpOGv3obB9W4cAF/s1600/DSCF0468.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_srj625cnuI7yoLIodwtZa9RpmIwgTIjcHZaONuoBdXh9tvzxAISEMG6LlrD1YHY1T0KQDIOy3IgH45i96C56KctVYsA63DZX1UGyqkueLDmhNdq-mxuRYaPLrit2cfpOGv3obB9W4cAF/s400/DSCF0468.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549889356368778050" border="0" /></a>Breaking free of the claustrophic glen, overlooking Loch Fyne<br />and some more excellent tarmac corners (tip: bring your road bike here).<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Hell's Glen was a necessary tarmac diversion to get me to Inveraray and the fearsome Leaccan Muir trails I had heard so much about. The Lochgoilhead road, and Hell's Glen, are great fun on the road bike though, even more so now they have laid pristine new tarmac, so I would recommend embracing the drop bars, no matter how much your friends laugh at you.<br /><br />Descending to Cairndow, I then had a longish stretch on the tarmac, around two inlets of Loch Fyne and eventually to Inveraray. On the way I dropped into the Loch Fyne brewery (Fyne Ales, very fitting!). It seemed rude not to pick up a couple of bottles for the night, as I wasn't intending any more off road that day. How wrong I was!<br /><br />Failing to find a campsite or hostel in Inverarary, I headed south towards Auchindrain, looking for a decent wild camping spot. The rain came on, but I had enough hours left in the day that I thought I would continue until I found a decent spot, instead of just pitching up anywhere. However, the trail just kept going, and with nowhere obvious to put the tent, I kept following.<br /><br />To my lasting regret I didn't get any pictures of the trail, imagine riding through a rocky stream, hemmed in on either side by tight regiments of dense fir trees, and you'll be in the right ballpark. Somehow I skated my way through, clattering the trailer off rocks left, right and centre. Coming to the end of the trees I had an opportunity for a breather, and spied a low, grey building across the river. A bothy!<br /><br /><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZO2ogYOGKcLZfTV87F1Z3NBSycval5qdjncmPCVvOkQkvj4BySgqWCTN6J9dCXypnzDi7bcI5XqtTKpbjjjIdyJF-X6Psac5C5LEx6yFpM5o4498HyeWWc4pZtwmFAM-L-KcA3wHQs48L/s1600/DSCF0470.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZO2ogYOGKcLZfTV87F1Z3NBSycval5qdjncmPCVvOkQkvj4BySgqWCTN6J9dCXypnzDi7bcI5XqtTKpbjjjIdyJF-X6Psac5C5LEx6yFpM5o4498HyeWWc4pZtwmFAM-L-KcA3wHQs48L/s400/DSCF0470.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549895237171509234" border="0" /></a></div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;">Carron Bothy.<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFx3PilPDX5dq3FZkFjmG4XAYS8rH16RI1PUFT8rveoZMe1TOUx1oBWNcHby5jC6FMKM4KGWVxcYEWthDqZtdtRCuNyD8pFEriiKUHvUwKBGjotVcnlAMvAsWyJa4wg_KDQrWhLSr-HJ2g/s1600/DSCF0472.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFx3PilPDX5dq3FZkFjmG4XAYS8rH16RI1PUFT8rveoZMe1TOUx1oBWNcHby5jC6FMKM4KGWVxcYEWthDqZtdtRCuNyD8pFEriiKUHvUwKBGjotVcnlAMvAsWyJa4wg_KDQrWhLSr-HJ2g/s400/DSCF0472.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549895246742797810" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxT97_Rqbe3c0cadKxVMMxisSY_lAwj_fwob5AzWoV6DZ3plIduGv44Mj434fBTLCZfhyphenhyphenJJ2jG2hJYeNG80FEN2Jx6ee0vlGA0TMfxikjqB5L1IGiOQTj-BsCuCMMH-H_Gg1qeiwGTUl2q/s1600/DSCF0473.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxT97_Rqbe3c0cadKxVMMxisSY_lAwj_fwob5AzWoV6DZ3plIduGv44Mj434fBTLCZfhyphenhyphenJJ2jG2hJYeNG80FEN2Jx6ee0vlGA0TMfxikjqB5L1IGiOQTj-BsCuCMMH-H_Gg1qeiwGTUl2q/s400/DSCF0473.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549895249177970098" border="0" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: center;">Bothy interior. Note the meagre fire it took my ages to get lit,<br />which promptly filled the place with smoke.<br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrYDKEOG17zjul7KsRYS6UMYuqBwUD14MAuaISVURQwYhkU_UsuUVbsAiH6eLQMoO0XTegVU4B_2tb2Am0-z6rLOqaRoj_2MvgEFxKqp66InM7wgiOZGNUSKFwv6zdXwM-7bqqF5l_ByAM/s1600/DSCF0475.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrYDKEOG17zjul7KsRYS6UMYuqBwUD14MAuaISVURQwYhkU_UsuUVbsAiH6eLQMoO0XTegVU4B_2tb2Am0-z6rLOqaRoj_2MvgEFxKqp66InM7wgiOZGNUSKFwv6zdXwM-7bqqF5l_ByAM/s400/DSCF0475.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549895254689069106" border="0" /></a> Drying clothes/inappropriate calendar. It is impossible to dry<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">clothes by the heat of a bothy fire. What happens is that your<br />cold wet clothes merely become warm wet clothes. The next<br />morning, they have regressed to being cold wet clothes again,<br />except now they smell of smoke.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3O_i_c9tLNwH5HHBcRyP9TACh6qKDyL_3KJwvniNvi5pbh_EmqBOUx5tA5FFzmz35k7rl2vkf5hGN-zWGs381fPBPGw-QPsDbhi_URJ21TUSh7uwg3djb9Y3mB010z8U7NUdxLO9vV0D9/s1600/DSCF0476.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3O_i_c9tLNwH5HHBcRyP9TACh6qKDyL_3KJwvniNvi5pbh_EmqBOUx5tA5FFzmz35k7rl2vkf5hGN-zWGs381fPBPGw-QPsDbhi_URJ21TUSh7uwg3djb9Y3mB010z8U7NUdxLO9vV0D9/s400/DSCF0476.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549895258424443474" border="0" /></a>Personally, I now prefer a pint of 'Vital Spark'...<br /></div><br /><br />Day 4.<br /><br />Its a fantastic feeling to wake up and know there is some classic mountainbiking right outside your doorstep. Between me and the trails though lay my soaking wet, cold riding gear from the day before. Gritting my teeth, I got dressed, shivered my way through more porridge, swept the bothy, and stepped out into the teeth of a particularly spiteful, loose, rocky climb.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYOlxbFA0ElZ0UjW79QBMw2tqhf51e0mDc8-CW5-5IGbtTRASue385rb8qwt4sl3Ihh-xHYMRtgfHy6U6oo5f7jNz4NLl0O7l6GeS10ZKtDzFs4ABzcebesPz5M7MRCN8fGNlSKNMdKwSO/s1600/DSCF0483.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYOlxbFA0ElZ0UjW79QBMw2tqhf51e0mDc8-CW5-5IGbtTRASue385rb8qwt4sl3Ihh-xHYMRtgfHy6U6oo5f7jNz4NLl0O7l6GeS10ZKtDzFs4ABzcebesPz5M7MRCN8fGNlSKNMdKwSO/s400/DSCF0483.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550263949714330466" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizmA2kpzcVAG2YrLS0TmlB6hj1zRnrZNTxMHsy5pGcbPPIEVcPWzo5RmQIW7qblnpUK-zTqTukwtNWjIVW8xe5C5HBe2tDOzz4jPyBxU1hkwLDvDaCF0SLyGr0-QkWiJI-nI06g4hC5xPv/s1600/DSCF0482.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizmA2kpzcVAG2YrLS0TmlB6hj1zRnrZNTxMHsy5pGcbPPIEVcPWzo5RmQIW7qblnpUK-zTqTukwtNWjIVW8xe5C5HBe2tDOzz4jPyBxU1hkwLDvDaCF0SLyGr0-QkWiJI-nI06g4hC5xPv/s400/DSCF0482.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550263935560689938" border="0" /></a>A couple of shots of the track undulating through the moor.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Those lochans play a prominent role in the riding, I'd swear I was<br />riding through a shoal of fish at one point. Thank god for dry bags..<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu4vCQAMb3UlVT0RAxhUdFTCyStASE1vlUSY185VEvIHw_efUQTuvgBCacaLw9nW-oP2L4t9kAmn5xQmvYVIMiEeV1lb6T172lAjpC2Q9P5qURR9s6NxZmE5_Gfny3fkCHbwp9KzRBmOsP/s1600/DSCF0478.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu4vCQAMb3UlVT0RAxhUdFTCyStASE1vlUSY185VEvIHw_efUQTuvgBCacaLw9nW-oP2L4t9kAmn5xQmvYVIMiEeV1lb6T172lAjpC2Q9P5qURR9s6NxZmE5_Gfny3fkCHbwp9KzRBmOsP/s400/DSCF0478.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550263919133276930" border="0" /></a>A deceptively tame looking section.<br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCayf5dm_fr95mjBpX7CzABGZZ12IW-3pvi7fSv8RRfQDniQRYS2KX0vo7elzU_sDhXQhyphenhyphen5BaVI3LBbnvS7N7-pGGxKv6uFN74o7AbcIaeSCdE82VmrfLZfHZWH4y2Ozs6-h6De4qAvN7q/s1600/DSCF0481.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCayf5dm_fr95mjBpX7CzABGZZ12IW-3pvi7fSv8RRfQDniQRYS2KX0vo7elzU_sDhXQhyphenhyphen5BaVI3LBbnvS7N7-pGGxKv6uFN74o7AbcIaeSCdE82VmrfLZfHZWH4y2Ozs6-h6De4qAvN7q/s400/DSCF0481.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550263932265589378" border="0" /></a>At the start of the madness. Think slab rocks with water pouring<br />off them, set at approximately <span style="font-style: italic;">exactly</span> the wrong angle to the steep<br />corner you're trying to turn. As usual I didn't stop to get any pictures<br />of the best bits, best head up there for yourself!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">I had only ridden one half of the loop from Auchindrain, however I rode the complete loop with a mate a couple of years later. For a ride that features a large amount of fireroad, its still a classic, with some sketchy wet rocky moments, and a fantastic, steep, claustrophobic descent through the pine trees at the end. Unfortunately a lot of the trail is getting 'repaired' as we speak, so it may lose a lot of its character.<br /><br />Having eventually clattered down the last of the trail, I was in sore need of a seat and some food. Dalavich provided both in fine style with a fry-up in the village post office. On the climb out of town however, I learned why fry-ups feature so little in a professional cyclist's diet, and wobbled painfully along the next few miles, until the turn off for the falls of Avich, and then the intriguingly named 'String of Lorne' which led to Loch Scammadale.<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYnUrdQtpv5DnVQLO656fCDH4w7D9Z6q_hihaQs0WqGgxgTI1EZW6n2T2Sp-9BHQda3Nqaa3AyCUmmcyFmyf6ffgocWFI-HFOKoYv32cNkAFtgL8NA2pz7XPBx2bspr5ZmlkE9siVEjqLq/s1600/DSCF0484.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYnUrdQtpv5DnVQLO656fCDH4w7D9Z6q_hihaQs0WqGgxgTI1EZW6n2T2Sp-9BHQda3Nqaa3AyCUmmcyFmyf6ffgocWFI-HFOKoYv32cNkAFtgL8NA2pz7XPBx2bspr5ZmlkE9siVEjqLq/s400/DSCF0484.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550271816978379314" border="0" /></a>Dalavich: Friendly Aussies, epic fry ups.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilAHX1n1zZeBa-V8KoajUNPIeB_sXiTe_DWFU-hXsEtgOFbQL2ggYegcWUAcjc-F5Mxm0-EjTo3TpYabPvhFTdNp9QooYyM7i_tsLE38GSjPcHxZ5mCh6J1oJ3i5B8XpYYebNe7m6P2A0i/s1600/DSCF0485.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilAHX1n1zZeBa-V8KoajUNPIeB_sXiTe_DWFU-hXsEtgOFbQL2ggYegcWUAcjc-F5Mxm0-EjTo3TpYabPvhFTdNp9QooYyM7i_tsLE38GSjPcHxZ5mCh6J1oJ3i5B8XpYYebNe7m6P2A0i/s400/DSCF0485.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550271826175738722" border="0" /></a>Falls of Avich.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLDSu38SG-xwU2Tx2oAvcsWuy19QiyeysD_XYtkSvWImPLbezF5iGXbHWxk6ZkGV6YQHCi7SIR4XIeG-VvQC6XJMbJg4_tvMfHdnaNSuJvmlgLivyRxn8UXpai-TV0hVlW8hCCeBFXCA9T/s1600/DSCF0496.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLDSu38SG-xwU2Tx2oAvcsWuy19QiyeysD_XYtkSvWImPLbezF5iGXbHWxk6ZkGV6YQHCi7SIR4XIeG-VvQC6XJMbJg4_tvMfHdnaNSuJvmlgLivyRxn8UXpai-TV0hVlW8hCCeBFXCA9T/s400/DSCF0496.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550271828649676130" border="0" /></a>String of Lorne<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJQbJ1T4uxt7jMjIyeSP_5aeUeOLimZgh_2y8qZGh_mKN8fPqrrKvPAkuiz5ID_caoyEdOo6erdTV3HC-TCvYa3-u5hX2YGgmSigIqrqnD0T3TjRXQkeOFFpofDEbepUjrW9SZ1yjTroT3/s1600/DSCF0500.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJQbJ1T4uxt7jMjIyeSP_5aeUeOLimZgh_2y8qZGh_mKN8fPqrrKvPAkuiz5ID_caoyEdOo6erdTV3HC-TCvYa3-u5hX2YGgmSigIqrqnD0T3TjRXQkeOFFpofDEbepUjrW9SZ1yjTroT3/s400/DSCF0500.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550271839939419842" border="0" /></a>More String of Lorne...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXu6kGSVxtDjEFwVtLqcf63h5m28M-INt_dRfZB6m_C-F4ZU2ZwWgURH0scdM1u_M6eXq2xcJurn7RZm47LtWam4LolCcB-w4zy5Hk2I2cKkKcioDyoLTEYOOaELyEBuK69wuMev0vZ_QA/s1600/DSCF0502.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXu6kGSVxtDjEFwVtLqcf63h5m28M-INt_dRfZB6m_C-F4ZU2ZwWgURH0scdM1u_M6eXq2xcJurn7RZm47LtWam4LolCcB-w4zy5Hk2I2cKkKcioDyoLTEYOOaELyEBuK69wuMev0vZ_QA/s400/DSCF0502.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550271845846257058" border="0" /></a>The sting in the String of Lorne.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">The S.o.L. had fascinated me since I'd started riding as a kid, the fact that someone had named it meant it was either an epic mountain pass, or had some bloody history associated with it. Turns out it was neither really, but I was glad for the chance to ride it. Apart from the bit in the picture above...<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;">A clue to the origins of the String of Lorne may have been the next section of trail, the Balinoe Coffin Path. I was no stranger to coffin paths, people in the west coast always seem to build churches in the wrong glen, necessitating torturous paths over the hills to carry their deceased. The Balinoe route was especially sinuous, clinging to the sides of steep grassy glens and picking a fine line through the trees. It was also <span style="font-weight: bold;">crawling</span> with tics.<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYdbORqloXTki9YxU8QJZaLB7jOaPO3g-3NHMR2Sr3Vu1Abk-RU3AgFOjhz3VkJPwUfTL8lBne1cQVzT9sl9O83i8iH3evYiU2rntgA4SPdSVf3LR4oBzvn2S0wrs-hxSXUhyphenhyphen3937mQrq4/s1600/DSCF0518.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYdbORqloXTki9YxU8QJZaLB7jOaPO3g-3NHMR2Sr3Vu1Abk-RU3AgFOjhz3VkJPwUfTL8lBne1cQVzT9sl9O83i8iH3evYiU2rntgA4SPdSVf3LR4oBzvn2S0wrs-hxSXUhyphenhyphen3937mQrq4/s400/DSCF0518.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550278445233832002" border="0" /></a>Tunnel of tics, thank god for shorts with tight leg grippers.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj08Qtl45WFLn9FWeMZ0l_NhV0BpfPVkam_RPPih6CxWDnpmyeoZwjpALrx8eFcOnlcI7G1D3b8mZ9tA4fbF3I-cu4Am-i1aXD1_Z_6fta_jvTzR8yp0eU0mhZjza9MuOP-F5NpklMxgSf3/s1600/DSCF0517.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj08Qtl45WFLn9FWeMZ0l_NhV0BpfPVkam_RPPih6CxWDnpmyeoZwjpALrx8eFcOnlcI7G1D3b8mZ9tA4fbF3I-cu4Am-i1aXD1_Z_6fta_jvTzR8yp0eU0mhZjza9MuOP-F5NpklMxgSf3/s400/DSCF0517.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550278435938816930" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmT-7YzFDVN7pM3haDaPiyZM7b_s6mFRSyvxY7aGvKf8ug-y8OoNpTUCa3VPSn-IlMBpJSJVB5428XKTz0BwW-YZPq0A6O2nrlLFwocHemKVzzdH2mFBPLFa-sHnrODCZNh3gEfq4igdJC/s1600/DSCF0522.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmT-7YzFDVN7pM3haDaPiyZM7b_s6mFRSyvxY7aGvKf8ug-y8OoNpTUCa3VPSn-IlMBpJSJVB5428XKTz0BwW-YZPq0A6O2nrlLFwocHemKVzzdH2mFBPLFa-sHnrODCZNh3gEfq4igdJC/s400/DSCF0522.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550278476732704290" border="0" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Some first class coffin path.<br /></div></div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs-EuCL4ADX3LZuyrGcPhYT7SmgCynBOMkX6HeGvBf6qIFHjQYRkIZ5n6QTivXoW7BpUwXEgfWd4EHHP7UTrObWYw0KlCPDkJL-bPg9xprOJYiVjnhKAjV5i_e3y_IGihB0dhdyNmQNfLa/s1600/DSCF0520.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs-EuCL4ADX3LZuyrGcPhYT7SmgCynBOMkX6HeGvBf6qIFHjQYRkIZ5n6QTivXoW7BpUwXEgfWd4EHHP7UTrObWYw0KlCPDkJL-bPg9xprOJYiVjnhKAjV5i_e3y_IGihB0dhdyNmQNfLa/s400/DSCF0520.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550278466965494834" border="0" /></a>Naturally you would think that if a path leads to a gate,<br />then the path would continue on the other side. Well thats not how<br />they roll in Balinoe! The path continues about ten metres further up the hill...<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">In theory I was now on home turf. My parents live in Benderloch (no sniggering at the back!) so I had a late evening trundle in the sunshine along the back roads from Kilmore to Connel, including an opportunity to take some classic 'lonesome traveller' shots of my own shadow, cue mad giggling and thousand mile stares...<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxk6b5V7XpWnEw8GiEX7Fl957FMXDUSDN9Ecm6Ni4mtUMQ2IXkUMh366-MFYmmofSE08Nmy7PSNtqaOQ63JdD5LSKviyJ3B4nn_8UFzDDB2xJA0DwClC_Rj7jRuhX5y5lwLo7D9hhDV2X8/s1600/DSCF0525.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxk6b5V7XpWnEw8GiEX7Fl957FMXDUSDN9Ecm6Ni4mtUMQ2IXkUMh366-MFYmmofSE08Nmy7PSNtqaOQ63JdD5LSKviyJ3B4nn_8UFzDDB2xJA0DwClC_Rj7jRuhX5y5lwLo7D9hhDV2X8/s400/DSCF0525.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550278497931078946" border="0" /></a>The smell of coconuts on a warm summers day, pretty sure<br /></div></div>coconuts don't grow on bastard spikey bushes though...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcYlbXapQ1zz-2p-mW60FXBw3zwISaUTpb2Z0xBP08MrV98JWuBAy3lzF1y3C0Z9qF1tqWbiQAuXMMeZjldiRsjRIYtEvnArzkdK4yJZo82Z9IDtgne3VTRbeMx2EzkHuJ5baC7LCm5K0S/s1600/DSCF0528.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcYlbXapQ1zz-2p-mW60FXBw3zwISaUTpb2Z0xBP08MrV98JWuBAy3lzF1y3C0Z9qF1tqWbiQAuXMMeZjldiRsjRIYtEvnArzkdK4yJZo82Z9IDtgne3VTRbeMx2EzkHuJ5baC7LCm5K0S/s400/DSCF0528.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550281371399743010" border="0" /></a>So long as you don't start talking to your shadow, its perfectly<br />healthy to consider it a 'companion'. Sort of...<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">I finished the day with a surprise rendezvous with my dad, who'd cycled out to meet me, and a quick photo op on Connel Bridge.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqosYlGMJ8NTXFVfOIIwi1iOr3OZMfGSUeqe6LMXn9FhdsvwqhL-6Hnt7i3koLmqNsZCtiNeDubkON0nbF4-HXB6IkAotmTrJ3RxWe0RDpppO5NP-9x7TwluVf-vxCF4gt0stEQbXH1ggV/s1600/DSCF0532.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqosYlGMJ8NTXFVfOIIwi1iOr3OZMfGSUeqe6LMXn9FhdsvwqhL-6Hnt7i3koLmqNsZCtiNeDubkON0nbF4-HXB6IkAotmTrJ3RxWe0RDpppO5NP-9x7TwluVf-vxCF4gt0stEQbXH1ggV/s400/DSCF0532.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550281375389480498" border="0" /></a><br />A day's R&R at the parent's house, and I would set off for the second leg, along the shores of Loch Etive and into Lochaber, where fun, and rocks, awaited.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglqYsJBYPu33QhhkzibbHL0oyez4piV5dF5AKOATsIsgKpwaX1IdgFUFOwSOtUYNrfB08m5v0ieDdFYmNyFx25BtydD2q-KGvcZmro5NTHERRYZyPGFBnel6aGjoa4RKeWXlSFpqd956-f/s1600/DSCF0639.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglqYsJBYPu33QhhkzibbHL0oyez4piV5dF5AKOATsIsgKpwaX1IdgFUFOwSOtUYNrfB08m5v0ieDdFYmNyFx25BtydD2q-KGvcZmro5NTHERRYZyPGFBnel6aGjoa4RKeWXlSFpqd956-f/s400/DSCF0639.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550288690140108002" border="0" /></a>To be continued.<br /></div></div></div><br /></div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />*Courtesy of G.Quagmire<br />** Courtesy of J.HendrixIanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12038546134695957686noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3631264177116850257.post-69740303458420629542010-11-09T22:26:00.004+00:002010-11-15T21:55:20.451+00:00You will need... pt.1Salaries are annoying. They clutter up your bank account and raise the expectations of friends and loved ones alike. Your best bet is to treat your salary as a sort of financial 'hot potato' and move it along as fast as possible, to let someone else worry about.<br /><br />What better way to do this than to invest in some high tech biking and camping gear? Don't let the protests of your significant other put you off, after all, these aren't just expensive toys, this stuff is bona-fide 'survival equipment' and as such no expense should be spared.<br /><br />(For a handy guide to further excuses, check out the excellent '<a href="http://www.bikeradar.com/news/article/humour-how-to-justify-your-next-bike-12570">Fat Cyclist</a>')<br /><br /><br />Part 1. The tent.<br /><br /><a name='more'></a><!--more--><!--more--><br /><br />Aha, the tent. Your home away from home for the days and weeks ahead. Or, alternatively, a fragile liability that you pack in your bag every morning after spending another night fending off vermin in some desolate bothy. Your choice.<br /><br />There are several key decisions you have to make before buying one, however I just went for 'lightest' and let all other factors go hang. Therefore, for expert advice I'd maybe suggest visiting a shop.<br /><br />So with all that tedious deliberating over with, let me introduce the Terra Nova Laser Comp, my faithful companion over the last three years.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5jgICbqkISQeCYXhZNRJSQoQRAI6n8hjvFQZ23k_k-40PEmO6kSXZe0ff8zWe7ubyaFSUIRCHOd0444Pq9zMRQeV_DU_ptoApom6b9u3AoS0GEthUca2H3sCjYMuLW3VEn4K4D9UE4Bq0/s1600/IMG_7281.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 259px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5jgICbqkISQeCYXhZNRJSQoQRAI6n8hjvFQZ23k_k-40PEmO6kSXZe0ff8zWe7ubyaFSUIRCHOd0444Pq9zMRQeV_DU_ptoApom6b9u3AoS0GEthUca2H3sCjYMuLW3VEn4K4D9UE4Bq0/s400/IMG_7281.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537687316989536882" border="0" /></a><br />Lets cut straight to the chase. This tent is light. Sub 1 kilo light. And thats a tent with enough space for you and all your soggy luggage. Its also double skin, so you don't end up competely soaked with condensation the next morning, and yet it stays relatively warm on cold nights.<br /><br />It achieves this weight by, amongst other things, only using one aluminium pole (and two very short carbon fibre ones). It also comes supplied with a packet of bright orange titanium toothpicks, which on closer inspection turn out to be the pegs.<br /><br />It pitches easily, and surprisingly quickly, no matter how tired, wet or wretched you are at the end of the day.<br /><br />The downsides? I've never quite grown to trust the tent in bad (read: windy) weather. Its never actually failed me, and I could undoubtedly pitch it better than I usually do, but none-the-less, windy nights are generally restless nights, listening to the tent flap around and watching the single pole deform itself into strange new shapes under the force of relatively light winds.<br /><br />Over-all though, I love this tent. It is a ticket to recklessly optimistic route planning, and the key to needlessly convoluted trips into the hills.Ianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12038546134695957686noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3631264177116850257.post-17711548361503197082010-11-09T20:26:00.000+00:002010-11-09T22:06:51.154+00:00Learning from my mistakes, Benderloch, Ballachulish and the Fort William World CupThere are many mistakes you can make when trying to travel light, self sufficient and off-road in the highlands. The heather ale was only one of them...<br /><br /><a name='more'></a><!--more--><br /><br />Working in a bike shop throws up lots of exciting opportunities, including factory visits, cheap kit, mid-week drinking and enraging wealthy <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Morningsiders</span> by not giving them the discount they are <span style="font-style: italic;">naturally</span> entitled to.<br /><br />Borrowing a luggage trailer may not rank very highly in that list for a lot of people, but I saw it as a chance to visit the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Mountainbike</span> World Cup in Fort William without letting the pros have all the fun.<br /><br />My first mistake was treating the trailer's maximum weight capacity as a target, not a maximum.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLWSE2jk48825ah9NcV94iTnh-IIvc1lqR-P8p76uZHZp5dK2fOCjmDrHduZlzRZtm0VxEB_8GZvvEYEHK-UFVXBLZhLKWBDuvG19YD197k6HKLBmaxpZbyJOF3kDxQYHAOsxC5WMCgIQy/s1600/DSCF0249.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 263px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLWSE2jk48825ah9NcV94iTnh-IIvc1lqR-P8p76uZHZp5dK2fOCjmDrHduZlzRZtm0VxEB_8GZvvEYEHK-UFVXBLZhLKWBDuvG19YD197k6HKLBmaxpZbyJOF3kDxQYHAOsxC5WMCgIQy/s400/DSCF0249.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537652028059786402" border="0" /></a><br />Note the enormous bag precariously strapped to the trailer. My kit list included:<br /><br /><ol><li>About three changes of clothes, including a pair of jeans, a large fleece jacket, hiking boots, and two sets of riding clothes.</li><li>A hammock</li><li>A harmonica, and a copy of 'Learning to Play the Harmonica'.</li><li>A large tub of delicious stew.</li><li>Two books, 'Zen and the Art of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">MotorCycle</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Maintenance</span>' and '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Gormenghast</span>'.</li><li>A <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Trangia</span> stove and a full bottle of Meths.</li><li>A £50 Argos camping set, good sturdy kit but weighing in at about 4.5kg for a tent, mat and sleeping bag.</li><li>God knows what else.</li></ol>While the above all sounds perfectly sensible, anyone who has experienced the paralysing terror of an airborne trailer at 20mph, or has encountered any of Scotland's finest 'paths' would agree it was near suicidal to try and tow the lot to Fort William off-road.<br /><br />Never-the-less, off I set.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPC1VhkAQxpXiw1-fEmP0T-SM2vlXCyF1VkzXRE5DihB0DbAs4l2VwIGxgtAdhd3gl_joFhqaJsz0AMIflkU01WKZRhrfBrcIAd4zxd7XQ0_1lzOQBK9vbiH1alhhIYvmOZ9y8v2Uclh7M/s1600/DSCF0253.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 293px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPC1VhkAQxpXiw1-fEmP0T-SM2vlXCyF1VkzXRE5DihB0DbAs4l2VwIGxgtAdhd3gl_joFhqaJsz0AMIflkU01WKZRhrfBrcIAd4zxd7XQ0_1lzOQBK9vbiH1alhhIYvmOZ9y8v2Uclh7M/s400/DSCF0253.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537654841334563362" border="0" /></a>The path from Glen <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Creran</span> to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Ballachulish</span> was signposted quite clearly, this would be easy...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6p-WD-cBHOeCI56nmdjjdBpiVsMEjEz9uDpgz62gQshayAGSRxylKQaiPxrEYZZQTV21f2qFwbfABApUhAgc1q72LPi5iTaLj53i4CMgIeVNHLFwHrMme5zVIyR42ANabT7YpsCTNDxMu/s1600/DSCF0259.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 249px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6p-WD-cBHOeCI56nmdjjdBpiVsMEjEz9uDpgz62gQshayAGSRxylKQaiPxrEYZZQTV21f2qFwbfABApUhAgc1q72LPi5iTaLj53i4CMgIeVNHLFwHrMme5zVIyR42ANabT7YpsCTNDxMu/s400/DSCF0259.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537656584668634162" border="0" /></a><br />Mistake no.2: The ordnance survey, and people who signpost paths, have sick senses of humour. Two of the sweatiest hours later, I pushed down the last of the steep, muddy and rocky path to reach the River <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Laroch</span>. This had served as an excellent introduction to the fine art of portage, or as it will henceforth be referred to: Hike-a-bike.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxeX73zls2E2aBD4YMOWT7z5CqpL0KQ23ZJZA4aUX7D_pd8cxAMUHHgzdPrS3QLS2N13koH56_oESK2TUhxvRTjQ8Fc8MxWbI1pZUrZBSlEqPHE7KRnlg0ZSFRmCeIgQUhaM1hHPXGChyphenhyphenl/s1600/DSCF0262.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 373px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxeX73zls2E2aBD4YMOWT7z5CqpL0KQ23ZJZA4aUX7D_pd8cxAMUHHgzdPrS3QLS2N13koH56_oESK2TUhxvRTjQ8Fc8MxWbI1pZUrZBSlEqPHE7KRnlg0ZSFRmCeIgQUhaM1hHPXGChyphenhyphenl/s400/DSCF0262.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537656585309503826" border="0" /></a><br />However, with the rough must come the smooth, in this case an excellent (if intermittent) descent down <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Gleann</span> an <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Fiodh</span> to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Ballachulish</span>.<br /><br />Having successfully reached <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Ballachulish</span>, it was a short hop along the road to the Red Squirrel campsite in Glen <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Coe</span>. While it may not have been THE <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">midgiest</span> campsite I had ever stayed in, it was certainly close. Reason enough, if one were needed, to stroll along the dark road to the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Clachaig</span> Inn.<br /><br />Mistake no.3: Do NOT leave your card behind the bar, especially when they have heather ale on tap.<br /><br />Very hungover the next morning, I attempted an <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">un</span>-trailered loop from Glen <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Coe</span>, over the Devil's Staircase to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Kinlochleven</span>, and back to the campsite. However, the less said about that the better, a day in the tent with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Gormenghast</span> beckoned..<br /><br />The next day dawned grey and cloudy, so I followed the road to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">Kinlochleven</span>, and joined the West Highland Way to Fort William<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwvSwN88zr9GYb0aojrRu9Ip5Cu7l-DfgxRmjR2BrtvpruUfMyPXtQcQ6nhfQVkGkWLomAQ6okDP7PoS3ldSMq4uBT5j6r1Ab4Mb88BWK-FBNvw6ItMY2xoU6huIfL2naJcITuRQ9d-Tkn/s1600/DSCF0264.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 233px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwvSwN88zr9GYb0aojrRu9Ip5Cu7l-DfgxRmjR2BrtvpruUfMyPXtQcQ6nhfQVkGkWLomAQ6okDP7PoS3ldSMq4uBT5j6r1Ab4Mb88BWK-FBNvw6ItMY2xoU6huIfL2naJcITuRQ9d-Tkn/s400/DSCF0264.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537660292483925042" border="0" /></a>Large rocky cart tracks suit the trailer's capabilities very well, so long as you have the guts to hold on as the ferocious momentum of a heavy trailer at speed pushes you up, over and through every rocky stream crossing and rut in your way. Just don't dare brake or you'll have to get the whole lot back up to speed the hard way...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaaHjQO-Uw05ke8kKJ-caB73ZWz0OohvKeuK4Wl01nWMhcbmDnzx1Ze4g6wRvS_uLI6EYUcoc39oHzEuMFYgGenDiqBO-n-0C3RC2aOn2kulb08bXNVITIuQwAxnvxpGoOX9esDK6UqA2T/s1600/DSCF0271.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaaHjQO-Uw05ke8kKJ-caB73ZWz0OohvKeuK4Wl01nWMhcbmDnzx1Ze4g6wRvS_uLI6EYUcoc39oHzEuMFYgGenDiqBO-n-0C3RC2aOn2kulb08bXNVITIuQwAxnvxpGoOX9esDK6UqA2T/s400/DSCF0271.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537660286364331554" border="0" /></a>Leaving the West Highland Way at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">Lochan</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">Lunn</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">Da</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">Bhra</span>, you can follow the steep and twisty road down to Fort William. The viewpoints on the way offered some fantastic photo-stops, and an opportunity to let the brakes cool down.<br /><br />As the World Cup was in town, nobody batted an eyelid as I sat myself in the park in the middle of town, patched up my bloodied leg, and enjoyed a smoke and a whisky as the Animal Trials team put on a display right in front of me. The afternoon was marred slightly when I threw my wallet in the bin amidst a jumble of receipts and Subway wrappers (make that mistake no.4). Thankfully the good folk at the Glen Nevis campsite were trusting enough to take my personal stereo as a deposit until I could get some cash at the bank.<br /><br />World Cup Practice Day.<br /><br />So, I'd made it to Fort William in one <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">piece</span>, and now had the weekend to enjoy watching the pros strut their stuff on the slopes of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">Aonach</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">Mor</span>. Except... my friend and I had heard tell of some spectacular riding to be had along the shores of Loch <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">Morar</span>, 40 miles west of the town. So we headed along the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">Mallaig</span> road to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">Bracorina</span> to see what we could find.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5s2UiTY3BmpoWcyRJQdkSr5WjkVRa206UDSVh39V9yDVYQWSeNWl_j4QNgX2KfIdW2RaMWmtGZ8ntZePnPJPNvunTS-qkV96hNbVaX4idRdiO112qwIbXbi03wPVm79kl39PZpBzR2nGA/s1600/DSCF0274.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 231px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5s2UiTY3BmpoWcyRJQdkSr5WjkVRa206UDSVh39V9yDVYQWSeNWl_j4QNgX2KfIdW2RaMWmtGZ8ntZePnPJPNvunTS-qkV96hNbVaX4idRdiO112qwIbXbi03wPVm79kl39PZpBzR2nGA/s400/DSCF0274.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537666091564970258" border="0" /></a><br />Dave runs the Transcend Trail Academy in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">Peebles</span>, so today at least I was travelling in style.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhAV0d80VZH2Mr9lHBb1wlW-uCv1wJiSEvEFhpQGjRbtceEGdI5zaLBN7RXYw2_SSvWLtXyhmKATXv8aT6jyVxyB3EYK0zh8lujnoQtQjthWsieu0XCUnIlZeXnyv7CZwyTsmsXEUrpje6/s1600/DSCF0281.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhAV0d80VZH2Mr9lHBb1wlW-uCv1wJiSEvEFhpQGjRbtceEGdI5zaLBN7RXYw2_SSvWLtXyhmKATXv8aT6jyVxyB3EYK0zh8lujnoQtQjthWsieu0XCUnIlZeXnyv7CZwyTsmsXEUrpje6/s400/DSCF0281.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537666094709240434" border="0" /></a><br />Starting at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">Bracorina</span>, we just followed our noses inland alongside Loch <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33">Morar</span> (some facts, which I vaguely recall and may have made up: Loch <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34">Morar</span> is the deepest loch in Europe, Loch <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35">Morar</span> is deeper than the sea which it drains into, Loch <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36">Morar</span> has a research centre at its far end to study the 'heavy water' at the bottom of the loch, Loch <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37">Morar</span> also has a monster, but its harder to park tour buses beside Loch <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38">Morar</span> so no-one cares).<br /><br />The riding was superb, with the trailer off the bike (and no hangover) I felt unstoppable, although poor Dave was still trying to straighten his legs out after six hours in the car... The trail is very rocky and wet though, so don't imagine you'll be able to ride all of it, we certainly didn't.<br /><br />Upon our return to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39">Aonach</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40">Mor</span>, we discovered we were just in time for the Four Cross finals. Grabbing a burger and a pint we headed up to the grandstand, still dripping mud, to watch the fireworks on and off the track. Perfect.<br /><br />Tip: If you're visiting Fort William for the World Cup, make a few days of it and get some riding in yourself. Leave the Witches Trail to the crowds though, there's better riding to be had just 40 miles west!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHbbce7UlgRWNkJby2V5HauhsIl98nugTVN_ItTItDIc9biBVPrKhLd4y0hsAwhquM0WudbdIN0Olu_clBD4wD35N9Xqp82n39jopVFimLFZsMuoGo386OPLLPtlalnaxKXaKekIioFBQP/s1600/DSCF0276.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHbbce7UlgRWNkJby2V5HauhsIl98nugTVN_ItTItDIc9biBVPrKhLd4y0hsAwhquM0WudbdIN0Olu_clBD4wD35N9Xqp82n39jopVFimLFZsMuoGo386OPLLPtlalnaxKXaKekIioFBQP/s400/DSCF0276.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537666100271037826" border="0" /></a><br />Fin.Ianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12038546134695957686noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3631264177116850257.post-74629138700927427212010-11-07T21:06:00.000+00:002010-11-09T20:20:29.023+00:00Why?There are many good reasons to take a few days to go exploring with your tent and bike in the highlands. Below I've tried to explain a few. Needless to say I've omitted the many reasons why you may wish not to, because that would just spoil the surprise.<br /><br /><a name='more'></a><br /><br /><br />1. Because its the law! Or at least, not against the law, at least, so long as you aren't camping in someone's back garden, and its not the stalking season, and you're not actively destroying the hills with a big spade, and you're not tickling trout (I have no idea what that last one is either, but apparently its <span style="font-style: italic;">very</span> illegal. Dirty beggars). Obviously none of this applies to our less progressive neighbours south of the border.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXUX0lZgamvf2VnQA3ZX4KAuZ2jLUjzOPKOnTn-RGZ7a1l1b_66HbOMbbKet-PsR3wRTMFo6bCnlvycSklpKq6PIfGVE2JNKoVH20C23J2vwKJo4aGG7WIZQeuibwfvKxEeWtbuT4mLFCO/s1600/DSCF0248.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXUX0lZgamvf2VnQA3ZX4KAuZ2jLUjzOPKOnTn-RGZ7a1l1b_66HbOMbbKet-PsR3wRTMFo6bCnlvycSklpKq6PIfGVE2JNKoVH20C23J2vwKJo4aGG7WIZQeuibwfvKxEeWtbuT4mLFCO/s320/DSCF0248.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536924409003470018" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />2. Because you don't need a car. Trains can take you everywhere in comfort, and with a warm tin of extortionately priced Tennent's thrown in. Result!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6xu5Qd2jvBWP1TZe041dkkMcYRsdWDv2v01Ks6SU9h06GzacAZ4IMK-Hs8v0QS30Lw5HqDnLKX455QUq9mVbll5vyXEFPGYoz26eY6nxxMyxRJbsaeKdyot1LwzVf9YHX1wZDok_G2xzN/s1600/IMG_1577.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6xu5Qd2jvBWP1TZe041dkkMcYRsdWDv2v01Ks6SU9h06GzacAZ4IMK-Hs8v0QS30Lw5HqDnLKX455QUq9mVbll5vyXEFPGYoz26eY6nxxMyxRJbsaeKdyot1LwzVf9YHX1wZDok_G2xzN/s320/IMG_1577.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536934641835565058" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />3. Shiny things! Run out of stuff to waste your money on and annoy the girlfriend with? Then welcome to the world of lightweight camping. The best bit? They like titanium and carbon almost as much as cyclists do.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />4. New pubs. The smallest, the dirtiest, the most remote and the most spectacular. You will spend time in them all, meet all sorts of folk and re-tell all your best lies/stories.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYgk0WF4Mo7bgcmx9X1sjBkmNGa2UW9l-XgiHwoRsQey2TsK4F9JEVCpauIuDqIA_TzEd3n6X2yuhkCvfxbx4eCJckJ1i9moYu5kunO3ghFx88qYNN2rhboo2SOkPe0Yr1HY7aoX_H-70j/s1600/IMG_1789.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYgk0WF4Mo7bgcmx9X1sjBkmNGa2UW9l-XgiHwoRsQey2TsK4F9JEVCpauIuDqIA_TzEd3n6X2yuhkCvfxbx4eCJckJ1i9moYu5kunO3ghFx88qYNN2rhboo2SOkPe0Yr1HY7aoX_H-70j/s320/IMG_1789.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536934650455792578" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />5. Staying in bothies. Like hostels only free, but with no facilities. Or lights. Plus they have mice.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-UpQJ_2g7JTlN7gfeMRi9iP6Mxl5FKAxTHqGelxCdGu3VYbxNNqV1TPq0V9_c-6dUPiUoa-ly5nDk1rIdR6lgiV8d7I35TkiK1_xza0eYDrGmGXAiZMXby7erk3ZwDX8mtL28xIIPrHhF/s1600/IMG_2218.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 218px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-UpQJ_2g7JTlN7gfeMRi9iP6Mxl5FKAxTHqGelxCdGu3VYbxNNqV1TPq0V9_c-6dUPiUoa-ly5nDk1rIdR6lgiV8d7I35TkiK1_xza0eYDrGmGXAiZMXby7erk3ZwDX8mtL28xIIPrHhF/s320/IMG_2218.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536934653186944418" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />6. The morning after the night before. It may have been dark, and wet, and 2AM, when you pitched your tent, but waking up to new surroundings the next morning cannot be beaten. Unless you're hungover.Ianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12038546134695957686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3631264177116850257.post-70938619282415242822010-11-07T20:29:00.000+00:002010-11-09T20:21:30.524+00:00An introductionI wasn't going to do a blog. I thought blogging was a bit egotistical, and I spend 8 hours a day in front of a computer anyway.<br /><br /><a name='more'></a><br /><br />However, deep down, I'm an egotist, and I enjoy writing about my trips to the highlands (I would call them adventures, but I'm pretty sure adventures should feature excitement, danger, Nazi gold, or at least some pirates). Turns out I was pretty much blogging anyway with various posts on the <a href="http://www.singletrackworld.com/"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">singletrackworld</span> forum</a>, and with an appreciative audience of at least, ooh, 5 people, I was encouraged to preserve them in the form of a blog, so you have those five people to blame.<br /><br />All constructive <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">criticism</span>, adulation, book deals and corporate sponsorship is gratefully <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">received</span>.<br /><br />EnjoyIanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12038546134695957686noreply@blogger.com0