Day 11 - Ben Nevis

My legs are aching, my feet are blistered, my arms are covered with midge bites, my ears are peeling from sunburn and wherever we go it just wont stop raining. But despite all that I'm happy. Just last wednesday Catherine and I set off from Bangor on bikes in a foolhardy attempt to climb the highest peaks in England, Wales and Scotland. And eleven days later we succeeded.

10am said my watch when i finally decided to get up. But even after 10 hours sleep, i hardly felt rested. Ten days of pure exercise takes its toll, and my body knew I was about to give it one more day of punishment. After breakfast (more granola) we gathered our stuff together and set off to climb the mountain on the other side of the valley - Ben Nevis.

Crossing the Nevis river, we took the youth hostel path and, after a couple of kilometers, joined the tourist trail. Already people were descending past us. Many looked like they might be starting the 24 hour three peak challenge and soon be driving south towards Scafell Pike, reaching where we had been 4 days ago in only 5 hours. Others we passed were not so prepared - many were in jeans and trainers, some had no water, no waterproofs and no map. And all these people were complaining bitterly, as if they had not expected the highest mountain in the country to be so far uphill.

After 40 minutes of climbing we had become bored of whinging tourists and mediocre views. Thanks to Catherine's mountaineering knowledge, however, we soon turned off onto an empty path to circle the mountain and ascend along a steep arete from the North East. This turned out to be an amazing route filled with stunning views, steep climbs, strong winds and dangerous scrambles.

At first we swung round one shoulder of Ben Nevis and crossed the deep valley on its northern side. This revealed the Ben's amazing north face, a wide vertical lump of granite dropping at least 500m vertically down from the summit. We, however, were climbing a rather more gentle slope on the opposite side. 'More gentle' is hardly doing the route justice - we must have gained around 500m of altitude along 45-degree slopes covered with loose scree and damp, boot-consuming bogs. Although the sun had been trying its best to come out at this point, by the time we reached the top of the ridge the wind was blowing a gale and dense white cloud was periodically being blown over the whole valley.

After lunch in a sheltered hollow we climbed up towards the top of the ridge - a Munro (3000-foot tall scottish mointain) called Carn Mor Dearg, or CMD to those in the know. Up on top the wind had picked up to extraordinary levels, like sticking your head out of a car window on the motorway. We began to reconsider our route. Ben Nevis, which loomed a mile across the valley, was only reachable along a narrow arete, a dangerous feature to cross in such conditions. On each side of the exposed arete were nearly-vertical 400m drops.

But, after a local dog-walker reassured us the path would not be dangerous if we were careful, we decided to take the risk and scramble across the arete. Climbing down from CMD the wind dropped and we found the loose path along the precipice. At first the drops on each side lodged an anxious sense of vertigo in my mind - one wrong foothold and it could be my last. Occasionally the clouds would draw in below us, obscuring the valleys on either side. This gave the impression of an infinite drop into clouds- an even scarier ordeal. However, as the rocky scramble across the arete went on, the anxiety passed and soon I was able to revel in the sheer thrill of it all. It truly was an awesome sight, with Ben Nevis rearing its bulky granitic head to the South West and the occasional view down into deserted mountain valleys on either side. The strong winds and swirling clouds also gave a surreal atmosphere to the place.

Having regretfully finished the arete and had a brief play in the snow still present in Ben Nevis's shadow, we climbed the final 300m to the summit. It was a contrast from the lonely route we had just taken, with dozens of unprepared tourists and the unavoidable mess left behind from such swarms of people. At least the summit was not clouded over, as was the case for every other mountain in the area. Rather than seeing a vista of steep mountains, we saw a rolling layer of clouds, each following the terrain below.

Our 19km hike to the summit of Ben Nevis via the CMD arete

After taking a few pictures and munching a handful of chocolate digestives we found the tourist trail again and started the descent. After only a few hundred metres the clouds descended and the rain began, making the next hour of steady tramping a tedious, view-less affair.

It is four hours later and the rain has not stopped. We ate take-away Haggis & chips sheltered in our tiny 2-man tent and found the nearest pub, more for a proper sit down in a dry room than for anything else. Scotland certainly doesnt do things by halves; mountains and rain included.

And so, with the 1344m of Ben Nevis done and added to the 1048m of Snowdon and 978m of Scafell Pike, we have succeeded in climbing the national three peaks by unassisted human power. As far as I know (and trust me, I haven't checked) the 9 days and 23 hours from the summit of Snowdon to the summit of Ben Nevis is a New Record. Not bad for a two-week holiday.

Until tuesday we are in the highlands doing more hiking and possibly some mountain biking/canoeing. However this will probably be the final blog post from me - I have wasted enough phone battery so far this trip on the things. What will happen, though, is that I will go back through these blogs and edit them with route maps and more pictures and anecdotes, simply for my own pleasure. I may also add a post on the do's and dont's of cycle touring. So stay tuned for that and in the mean time- go break a record, even if you only just made it up.

Stats:
Distance walked: 19km

Day 9: Ayr to North Loch Lomond

A sunny start

This morning was a weird one - it was sunny. Maybe we wanted to make the most of the good weather, maybe dry equipment is easier to pack, but somehow the sunshine translated into the quickest packing/breakfast/tent-take-down sessions we have yet had, and we were on the road by 9:15 - a new record

We first headed into Ayr, the nearby seaside town, and found the main road north. It took us through many similar resorts, with pretty B&Bs, closed-up shops and more hand car washes than I could count. Passing Prestwick airport, still in sunshine, we stopped for second breakfast. Cyclists are very much like hobbits; unkempt beards, smelly feet and a multitude of meals (breakfast, second breakfast, elevenses, luncheon, afternoon tea, dinner and supper) being just some of the comparisons. We then found ourselves on a quiet ring road around Irvine, a large Scottish town apparently with nobody in it. Heading on north avoiding the main road we eventually emerged on the only road around the Strathclyde coast. In the hazy sunshine we could even see the mountainous Isle of Arran across the beginnings of the Firth of Clyde, a large finger of water that reaches 40 miles inland to Glasgow.

The Firth of Clyde narrows on our left

As we headed up what was a beautiful coast road, the Firth narrowed and steeped on either side. After a morning of pushing hard into a stiff northern breeze, we hit 80km.on the cycle computer and came to Gourock. Lying on the northern tip of Ayrshire, Gourock is a steep-sided town on the banks of the Clyde and the gateway to the highlands. It also holds some Osborn family importance, with my great-grandmother living in a little house high up on the hill. My dad, from whom both Catherine and I caught the bug of hiking and mountaineering, spent many a summer up in that house. Maybe, in some round-about way, that little town is the origin of this entire trip.

From Gourock we caught a tiny passenger ferry across the Firth of Clyde. Although the boat had been soaked by a sharp shower on the previous crossing, by the time we reached Kilgreggan it was sunny once more. On the boat, a worried local came up to us and enquired our route. "Yous should'ney go that way" he said. "The road to Arrochar is dangerous". Instead he pointed us to a ridiculously mountainous road, atleast 20km out of our way before leaving. We considered his warning and decided the reward of a direct route would be worth the risk.

Before reaching this 'Death Road', we had a beautiful ride along one of the many sea-lochs stretching from the Firth of Clyde. Across the bay was a shadowy docklands at the foot of a wooded hill that was apparently an MOD submarine base. After a huge 15% hill we finally met 'Death Road'. And what a road it was. Sure it was narrow, had sharp turns and a roller-coaster of blind summits, but the views were stunning. To our left through dense deciduos forest was a sharp drop to a sea loch, a fjord cut by rivers of ice 20 thousand years ago and flooded by the sea. Rather than being a deep blue, it was a dark green, reflecting the steep wooded slope only 800m away on the other side. Parked at the entry of the fjord, almost covering the entire inlet, was a huge megatanker transferring oil from some distant oil field to MOD depots. A lone kayaker, who was also making his way up the loch, was dwarfed billions-to-one by this titanic ship.

Sunbeams over Loch Long having ridden "Death Road" to its conclusion

And for mile after mile this road went, skipping up and down small hills like a cycling rollercoaster. And the views continued. By this point, breaks in the cloud were few and far between, but as we entered the village at the terminus of the fjord a beam of sunlight could be seen moving steadily across the centre of the loch. It truly was an amazing sight.

Next we crossed from this sea loch at the mercy of tides and mariners into a true loch - Loch Lomond. Once again the road wound around the West bank as we headed north. This route was busier, however, and the road surface was littered with potholes. Despite all this, the views made it an experience to savour.

However, after the longest and most beautiful day of our trip so far, something was always going to shatter our illusions of success. The thing to do the shattering on this particular day was the pannier rack that holds the stuff above my rear wheel. After one pothole too many and a load cracking noise, i looked back and saw the rack cleaved in two and sticking out at unnatural angles like a badly broken limb. After crawling away from the blind corner on which i was inadvertantly parked we found a lay-by to inspect the damage. Usually two spokes link the base of the rack to my bike frame, each welded to a central support. Almost an inch of welding had given way, and the rear spoke was scratching at my frame nearly 6 inches from where it should be. Although i had no welding torch to hand, i did have a good long piece of rope. This, for now, is all that supports a quarter of the 20kg carried by my panniers. But, by avoiding the biggest pot holes, my bodge job somehow made it the 10km down the road to our campsite.

The campsite, thanks to its location by Loch Lomond and half way along the West Highland Way, has everything someone miles from civilisation would want - a shop, restaurant, bar, showers, etc. Another thing it has in abundance is midges. The little things seem to have saturated the air around me and, even with lavishly applied bug spray, continue to be a nuisance. It is refreshing that today, rather than constantly worrying about how to get dry and keep our gear from getting wet, our only real worries have been sunburn and midges ('First world problems', i guess). At last though, after 5 days of rain and questioning the motives behind this trip, today has reminded me why we are here: To cycle through some of the fairest parts of these isles using only our own two legs.

Helped by flat coastal roads we did our longest ever day: 146km

Tomorrow, with my rope-strapped bike, we will cross Rannoch moor, ths largest uninhabited area in the uk. It is 100km to Fort William, our base for climbing Ben Nevis and our end point. I can only hope that my bodge-job holds...

Stats:
Distance: 125km
Total Distance: 720km
Average Speed: 19.3kph

Rainy-ness: 2/10
Midges: 9/10
Scottishness: 8/10

Day 8 - Lochmaben to Ayr

It's not ideal, but on this trip we have three types of gear: cycling stuff for each days ride, camping gear for the evenings to cook, sleep and shelter, and hiking gear to take us up each of the three peaks. Every morning, without fail, we have to pack each bit of kit back into three tiny bags and fit these back onto the bike. And usually this occurs in the rain with no tent for protection (it needs packing too). Its a long and tedious process and this morning was no exception. For two and a half hours we packed up, piled everything onto the bikes and left our loch-side campsite, all under grey scottish drizzle.

Today's route with a long steady climb lasting nearly 60km!

The hills began almost immediately as we cut across on back roads from Lochmabin to the main Dumfries to Kilmarnock route which cut through the southern lowlands. Although this route started busily enough in boring agricultural surroundings, it soon turned into a beautiful (and quiet) alpine pass. To our left was a steep ravine cut by a deep, fast flowing river. On our right were steep forested slopes bounded at the top by a train line. The gentle gradient was also almost enough for us to forget that we were climbing into the mountains.



After lunch by the ravine the road levelled off into a more open valley. Wild sheep pastures slowly transformed into narrow fields and we seemed to re-enter civilisation. The shallow gradient was gone, however, replaced by steep rolling hills. The solitude of the mountains had also been replaced by a multitude of impatient car, lorry and tractor drivers. Reluctantly we followed this route for the rest of the day. 

Smooth private roads

In a car, the state of the road surface probably has absolutely no effect on the smoothness of the ride. On two-inch-wide, suspension-less road bike wheels however, a bad road surface is as noticable as the light of day and Scotland seems to have more than its fair share of dodgy road surfaces. Most look like a patchwork quilt of quick-fixes, with each layer of pothole-covering asphalt simply creating a more uneven surface. After an afternoon of continuous ups and downs, as well as a thin drizzle that stopped and started at will, we found a touristy cafe in the grounds of a castle. Remarkably the private road from the castle gate house to the cafe was one of the best road surfaces we'd seen all week. There we researched campsites and found a welcoming caravan park 10km away on the outskirts of Ayr.

A sunny evening for once!

The site was nice enough except for the rabble of kids who, despite apparent free roam of the site, emitted their high pitch shreiks only in the area around our tent (Oh no, ive turned into one of those people). Amazingly the dense white cloud that had hung over our heads all day seemed to melt away and a dim evening sun appeared. With weather warnings in force for tomorrow, however, it is when rather than if the next drenching will occur.

Tomorrow we follow the Ayrshire coast to Gourock and cross the Firth of Clyde by ferry. That means that this time tomorrow we will be in the Highlands! I can smell the whiskey already. Or is that just the rain?

Stats:
Distance: 101km
Total Distance: 595km
Average Speed: 20.0kph

Day 7 - Keswick to Lochmaben

Waking up after a 'rest day' is horrible. Our legs seemed to have realised what we're putting them through and refuse to move. Eventually we forced ourselves up and ate the usual granola breakfast. After putting on freshly-washed clothes i once again had the amazing pleasure of placing warm, clean-smelling socks and feet into horribly damp shoes for the third day running. At least the sky was refusing to comply with expectations and was remaining dry for the time being.

We're not out of the lakes yet - a hilly start to our 120km day

There is always a conflict while deciding which route to cycle. While the back roads are usually quiet and make for a more enjoyable ride they can be almost continually up and down, especially in the mountains. A-roads on the other hand tend to be on average much flatter and more direct. Constantly being overtaken by inconsiderate drivers isnt exactly fun though.


Today we experienced both as we left the Lake District from Keswick towards Carlisle. Initially we had found that rare balance- a smooth and direct road without much traffic. Then we hit traffic hell for 20km - the busy A595. Despite the road being no wider than previous routes, drivers felt it neccessary to overtake on blind corners, at uncomfortable distances, and even roll down their windows and hurl abuse at one point. We managed to escape onto a back road and rolled into Carlisle for lunch.

And what a lunch it was. We found that students paradise, a Wetherspoons, and gorged ourselves on Steak (it being a,Tuesday) for almost an hour. Bloated with all the meat, we found a minor road alongside the M6 and headed towards the Scottish border where, remarkably, the sun was beginning to break through the thick white clouds that had loomed over us all morning.

We entered Scotland in the town of Gretna, famous as the marriage destination for eloping couples since 1830. We felt no distinct change in atmosphere across the border, but it certainly felt like a milestone for us as we enter the final section of the trip. There are still 4 days cycling to reach Fort William though, so were not becoming nostalgic just yet.

Into Scotland!

After a long stretch westwards from Gretna along a boring agricultural stretch we turned inland. Our route steadily became more undulating and we occasionally passed forests and estates. This was beginning, superficially at least, to look like the scotland i know from books, tv and film.

The campsite we found also conforms strictly to stereotypes, with a view over a Loch and a golf course. I can only hope the highlands reach my lofty expectations of stunning vistas and deep blue lochs.

Stats:
Distance: 105km
Average Speed: 20.1kph
Total distance: 494km
Midge count: 5/10

Rainy-ness: 2/10
Roadkill seen: 3 Hedgehogs, 2 Rabbits, 1 Badger :(