The Cateran Trial: Land of Berries

Just back from 4 days walking the Cateran Trail up in Perthshire. It’s a 55 mile walk long trail and roads that supposedly were used by cattle thieves and other such types. It is now the close season and the choice of hotels was limited. We thought about camping, but I’m not a walker and didn’t fancy waking up wet and bitten every morning not to mention carting all that stuff around the countryside. I had a large rucksack and chucked various things into it that I thought I’d need. Tins of beans, pot noodles, stove and gas, full toilet bag, towel…you get the idea. No idea about the rucksack grief I was accumulating. 

We set off from Alyth on day 1 and trekked up to Glen Isla. We were doing 2 miles an hour and I couldn’t believe how slow we were going. We stopped every 2 or 3 miles for a brew up. As it took about 20 minutes to brew up, this added further to the time. The Glenisla Hotel was a welcome sight at 4ish. 

Day 2 saw us set off up toward Glenshee in glorious sunshine. For us to do the route in 4 days, a 23 mile stage 2 was required. However, there was no chance of use walking that distance in the light. There is a short-cut that misses out 5 miles up north and we elected to do this, cutting straight across west to Kirkmichael over the moors from Cray rather than going to the Spittal. Crossing the moors was a bit boggy and there were missing way markers so my map reading skills came in handy. It was a good job visibility was good though. We coped with the 18 mile leg, but I was puggled by the end of it and we stopped for a beer at the Kirkmichael Hotel before getting to the Strathardle Inn. This was the best place and we were welcomed by a gift of two hot cupcakes from the owners daughter. Dinner was excellent and the glass of wine ensured that by 9pm we were out for the count.

Day 3 was a 15 mile affair to Blairgowrie. Another dry day and a very walkable/runnable stage. We met a couple going the other way. They advised that the Bridge of Cally Hotel were not doing meals and we would be doing well to get tea and scones. We did this, overseen by a rather dour waiter. Setting off down the old military road to Blair, we missed a sign and ended up doing another leg shrinking 18 miles finishing off by taking our lives in our hands walking along the main road to the town. To add to our woes, we had booked in the Old Cross in Rattray, another mile or so from the town centre so we trudged up the hill to the Inn after stopping for another beer at a converted church. Dinner was fine in the busy restaurant. My rucksack was really an issue and over the days I jettisoned this and that to try and make it bearable. All I could think off was that I could run each stage in a couple of hours. You do, however, get a very detailed perspective of your surroundings when you walk. It has to be said that walking with weight is a different kettle of fish to a day trip somewhere. The final stage was Blair back to Alyth. The Missus promised me a short stage and I couldn’t wait. We passed a load of grouse and saw a few fleeting deer but saw very few other humans. The sun was out and the hedges full of berries. Well, it was Perthshire.

I was well pleased to arrive in Alyth around 3pm where we returned to the Losset Inn and reclaimed the car. 

We had spoken to all the owners of each hotel and they didn’t paint a good picture of the hospitality industry in Scotland. Lack of staff, falling numbers through the doors and consumption generally down. I thought closing your hotel during the day to visitors didn’t help.  An inevitable  downward spiral. We wandered around a sunny Dunkeld on the Thursday before returning home via Auntie Maureens for a cuppa and catch up. Next time I will be much more attentive to what I’m carrying. All in all it was an enjoyable and tranquil four days and we’ll see where we trek next.

Nearly the booby prize at Elsdon

I was looking forward to the hilly time trial at Elsdon given the improvements I have made in my times on flat courses during the year. A quick count puts my tally for the year at around 11 bikes races. The last time I did a time trial at Elsdon it involved the 2 meaty climbs of Bilsmoor and the Gibbet. Arriving in good time, I had brought my new tt bike and had ridden though the course earlier in the week. 

There was hardly a breath of wind and the sun was up. As the punters (or should I say my fellow competitors) began to gather I noticed they all had their road bikes. It looked like I was the only one to bring my tt bike. Not put off, I signed in and pinned the number on my shorts. I clarified the course details at race HQ and found out that there was only the Gibbet to climb. It was a hill climb, rather than a time trial. That would explain all the road bikes, then. Very little difference except the length and topography. I warmed up and was soon at the line.  I had no problem getting up the first of the inclines which is probably the steepest section. I maintained a steady although not blistering pace up the climb and finished in just over 10 minutes. I have never cracked the 10 minute barrier on this hill and didn’t today. Riding back to race HQ I stopped some way down the hill and took in the sight of the rest of the field ascending. 

I finished well down the field and got a good dose of reality on my hill climbing aspirations. Last tt of the season is the Tour de Trossachs which starts in Aberfoyle and includes the lung stripping climb of the Dukes Pass. I did this is 2017 and it was a testing but enjoyable rolling course. I am off at 11am so there may be a case for driving up that morning, rather than staying at a b&b…some of the hotel rates at the mo seem really steep, even at this off season time.  The campsite is charging £15, so that’s a possibility.

Take it to the bridge

I notice that my blog traffic is down significantly from 2018. Could it be that my adoring public are cool on the lack of running or abit sniffy about my rejuvenated cycling career. Maybe the blog is just a bit dull these days? Who knows?

In order to stop the rot (not really) and having reached the dizzy heights of a 23 minute 10 mile time trial, I have been rifling through any number of second hand bike websites in recent weeks. I came up with a couple of bikes for sale that might help me in my quest for speed. One was at Carnoustie and the other in the Borders.

And so, on Friday gone, I ventured to Selkirk to view a carbon bike with carbon wheels. Sure the bike was 4 years old and the wheels two (apparently), but if the machine was suitable it would be a step up 'for sure' (as they say on the Tour). I arrived at the bloke's modest abode and the gent dug out the Planet X machine from the shed. Of course, while I pulled at this and that and scratched my chin, going to look at a new bike with all the bells and whistles is like going to see a puppy. You're not likely to come away empty handed.  In making a 90 minute journey, I was already committed unless there was something wrong with the gear. I took the jalopy for a spin up and down the lane and it seemed smooth, eager. It was certainly lightweight. I made the lad a reduced but respectful offer and  he was happy to take my spondoolies. 'That was painless enough', I thought.

We shook (but not in a fracking earthquake sort of way) and I carefully placed the bike into the back of the car like it was my grannies frail auntie and closed the rear door. Business concluded, I drove through the town and parked up. As it was a lovely night and I'd never been to Selkirk, I put on my trainers and did a slow 30 minutes around the town. It really is no where near anywhere, but not a bad wee place on the whole. I changed and realising that it would be too late for dinner by the time I got back home, I used some of the money I'd saved on the bike and bought crispy shredded beef and chilli sauce and sat in the car developing a good sweat as I worked my way through the boiled rice and red gooey morass. What a messy eater I am. Stuff all over my chin.

I took the flying machine out tonight around my normal 20 mile circuit and took around 4 minutes off my previous best time. Granted I was high on new bike testosterone and gave it some welly, but it bodes well for the short and hilly event at Elsdon in 10 days and in Aberfoyle next month. In the meantime, I'll have to get the discarded bike polished and up on Gumtree (or whatever) and see if I can recoup some of the readies I parted with.  

Levens and the Roberts

Its been a 'sweet and sour' type of weekend for me, but mostly sweet.
I dropped my Roberts off at Paul Curran's Bike Shop in Teesside last week and it didn't take him long to give (mostly) everything the once over and text me to say the bike was ready. I drove down on Saturday to collect it. He said it had had some admiring glances as it sat in his shop. It's whats called a neo-retro, a classic bike frame that's had an update. Never seen one up here in the north.
I was on my way to Levens, a renowned 10 mile time trial. After last weekends success at Irvine, I was chilled about Levens. If I p.b'd then great; if not, no dramas.
I took the A66 across the Pennines and arriving beside the HQ, I drove the course. Not great and not a patch on Irvine, I mused; and the wind was up and gusting. There was no time to dip into my current read,  Tolstoy's 'the death of Ivan Illych', which is surprisingly good, not too long and not a million miles off Daphne Du Maurier in style. 
It was a full field of 120 riders and some reserves and I was off at 7:12pm. I warmed up on some nearby roads and some of the drivers were a bit speedy and a bit close for my liking. I had a chat with a guy from Rutherglen who was off a couple of minutes before me and he was regretting the long trip south, thinking about the wind.
The lad in front of me had all the gear and was riding for Hawick. His bike was a thing of beauty and right enough his ability must have matched his equipment as he won the event with 20m:00sec on a winnie the pooh blustery day.  Needless to say I never caught sight of him. In the meantime, I made what I could of the dualled road, then single carriageway, then dualled affair into a stiff and gusting headwind, and then cracked on back with a tailwind. I finished a minute down on Irvine and cooled down with a 5 mile ride around the sleepy South Lakes villages before returning to the car. It was a pleasure to inhale the wood smoke from the holiday homes and see the trees heavy with apples and plums in the late evening.
I drove back via Penrith where I stopped for a kebab,  but it turned out to be a Greek takeaway, so I ended up with something nearly a kebab but described as a yeeros (or gyros). Not a patch on what they serve in Dalkeith.  Paprika and chips in there, but no chilli; whats that all about?
This morning the sun was out and I took the Roberts out for its first ride. I tagged in with a group initially until my back wheel came out of the frame up a hill, then sat in later with a little group of Zeus CRT riders (a club I was in 15 years ago). We had a good chat. Apart from one of my brake levers working loose, the new old bike was a pleasure to ride and I stopped at Capheaton for a prolonged tea (but no cake) to savour the end of a long held ambition to ride one of these frames.

I have two hilly time trials left to complete before the season's end. One's a short affair locally that goes up Bilsmoor and the Gibbet early in September and the other's a return visit to Aberfoyle for the Tour de Trossachs (if I get in).  The good news is that I am back into my old trousers, which means the weight is coming down. It will have to if I am going to do myself justice at these late season events where carrying excess weight is no help whatsoever.
I'll just add that I've knocked out 15 miles running this week; However, I don't want to tempt fate, so will keep this between you and me until I am back into the running groove.     

Return to Irvine (GTR 10mile TT)

I have yet to regale you of my most recent success. Well, it was a modest but well earned nibbling away (even if I say it myself) of my 10 mile time trial pb back in Irvine. I had entered this ages ago. I think it's the flattest course in Britain for this event. Possibly the fastest? I doubted that the weather would be as good as it had been earlier this year when I set 24:11 as my seasons best. I feared that it would not be conducive to a good time and as I crossed the A69, the weather was appalling. If it had been a teenager, I would have sent it to its bedroom with a thick ear and without any supper. The major highway between east and west was flooded in places and it was coming down in stair rods. The sky was a multi-layered ragged f&%ked up angry mix of black, grey and deep blue and it was doing the Wealdstone Raider....'dya want some? If you want some, I'll give it ya'.
Somewhere past Gretna Green it began to dry out. The sky was still a mess, but it wasn't raining so heavily. As I cut west for Ayrshire at Douglas, I watched the black sky in my mirror while I sped toward a cloudless clear blue sky. Hard to believe that by the time I stopped at McDonalds in Kilmarnock for a coffee at 5pm, it was 22 degrees and they were all in T shirts.  Could it last, I wondered as I peeled the little white sticker off the cup and stuck it to my dashboard with the rest of them.
I signed on in Eglington Park at 5:30pm, an hour before my start time. I warmed up by riding the 2 miles into Irvine and then back out on the Kilwinning Road a couple of times. I had my new skinsuit on and had wrestled with the velotoze things for my feet. They're on their last legs and will be slung this weekend. I was number 40. Usually those that wear the 'zero' numbers (10,20 etc) are the fastest, but I wasnt fooling anyone. I simply didnt have the disc wheels and sleek black racing steeds that most others had. 
I knew that I had to go hard from the start and, as I started, I assumed the aero position within a couple of seconds and buried myself along the carriageway. There was a 12 mph side-tailwind and as I hammered down the slow lane I recalled looking at my garmin last time where I had been surprised to see 27mph. Today it said 29mph. I caught sight of my minute man ahead but he was going well and, at the turn, I was at 11m:50s or thereabouts. More speed required, Scottie. I cracked on as the sweat began to drip drip off my nose. Its 100% effort eyeballs out on a flat course. I was generating 300 watts which is easily double what I might do on a training ride around the lanes. I needed to go faster. More, More. I tried to remember to try and maintain an aero position. Glancing at the garmin it said 25mph, then later 24mph and I was flailing as I gobbled up the miles to the finish. The final kilometre is a very gentle decline and I mustered every last atom of energy that I could as I came past the line in 23m:57s. Pheewww, that was tight, but 'sub 24' on 'normal' wheels was the seasons objective.  I know with a small mortgage and some crowd-funding over the winter I can raise enough dosh for some carbon wheels next year.  I was elated with the time and warmed down by riding into Irvine. It still didn't look any better in the late evening sun.
I drove back home via Edinburgh and as I travelled along the M8 it got blacker and blacker with flashes of lightning illuminating the sky every so often. It was torrential along the bypass and while my heart said kebab, my brain said fish supper in Dalkeith, so it was a fish supper and a salt n sauce wet drive home. I think I was lucky.
Oh, and by the way...breaking news.....a new pair of trainers and 12 miles of running this week. Its  looking like it could be a decent Autumn.  

Two wheel adventure

I've managed virtually no running miles this week, but all is not lost. I have logged over 150 miles on the bike and its been a real pleasure that a quiet period at work has coincided with the hot weather last week. True, we have had our share in recent days (and nights) of a thunder storm or two but they kinda go hand in hand - hot weather and thunder. One night a huge clap came out of nowhere and I nearly hit the ceiling. The bikes are mostly in a state of disrepair which is not satisfactory. I must get my finger out and sell or sling the various bits n bobs that are lying around and that are surplus to requirements. Some new gear is also required.
My Chas Roberts is assembled after 18 months, but is yet to hit the road and I need to get it fine tuned. I have been down the estate road on it and the position is bang on, which is great. The gears need a little tinkering and it could do with a once over by someone who knows what to do with a spanner!
My recent lurgy troubles appear to have dissipated and I feel now that I can dispense with the white gloves and dust mask...some of the neighbours are wondering if I've gone a bit gaga.
Next weeks weather looks wet, but there could be a slot tomorrow afternoon and again on Tuesday morning, so I will ensure I make myself available for some quality bike time. The Tour has been great this year and I am still keen to get out to the Alps again and do some big hills.  In the meantime I will have to make do with the Northumbrian countryside. Could do a lot worse. If I manage to pull on a pair of trainers, I'll let you know. In the meantime life's a two wheel adventure.

A fat lads Sunderland 5k

The lurgy has been hanging on since my holiday. My achilles has also been playing up, but my mantra these days is ‘do what you can’. I had pre-entered the Sunderland 5k in mid June when I was ‘on the up’. However, I haven’t shifted the weight and since my cold, not managed the miles. The evening race on the Thursday night looked uninviting, but the £12 or whatever had been spent, so I was committed.  I had also entered a local 10m time trial at Cramlington on the Wednesday, the night before Sunderland. I knew I was pushing my luck. 

It took me 20 minutes to track down the Race HQ near Cramlington. Armed with my new skinsuit I signed up and took my number to the toilets to pin on. This is no easy feat given the tightness of the garment and its stretchiness. I made some sort of job of it, but as my torso cannot yet manage a 360 degree revolution, I accepted defeat and asked for assistance from a fellow rider as I made my way out of the gents.

I really wasn’t in the mood for 25 minutes of grief, but it could only be better than the debacle that was Newton Mearns (see earlier blog). I was off 2^nd last and it was well after 8pm when I galloped downhill from the start to commence the 2 laps of the circuit. I had no illusions that I was in good shape; However, crossing the line in 24:50min I was pretty happy with the result, my second fastest time of the year.  I warmed down with another couple of miles and made my way home to a shower and a bottle of beer. The skinsuit was fine and in the search for a faster time, I find myself browsing the web for carbon wheels. Crazy prices for what….a handful of seconds?

I felt fine the next day and I drove Marg, Speedy joe and Ant to Sunderland. We were joined by the loz and the dark horse (linds), so all 3 daughters were running. Good to see them all getting stuck in. The Sunderland 5k starts with a ski-slope hill and it’s a 400m giveaway. 

However, it was super-muggy and hot and after 1k I realised I was going to struggle. I saw the back of many runners who, normally I would have expected to beat, but not this evening. It was a PW of 21:02 and I have rarely enjoyed a race less.  None of the others did well and this we put down to the remnants of the cold bug and the recent excesses of our continental trip. While Speedy joe still hasn’t found her mojo, loz appears to have put the bug to the sword with her win the following weekend at the Hamsterley trail half marathon. I totted up 12 miles running over the week but the achilles is easing off, thankfully. I have managed 100 on the bike, however in readiness for the two short time trial events that I have entered in August.  If I get in, it’s a trip back to Irvine and then one to Wigan. To what lengths will I go to deliver a PB on the bike? Quite a way, apparently.