More bicycle adventures.

 Since my last blog, which was written in August but not posted, my knee has been continuing to get better. I've had it a couple of walks up Arthur's Seat and each time it is less awkward on the uphills and the downhills. I tried a few more running steps but there's just a bit of a shock in it and since I've not run for so long it seems like I might as well wait a bit longer and see if we can get it so it actually doesn't hurt.

Meantime we are suddenly in the middle of a heatwave.

On Tuesday I was free and the sun was shining and the wind was coming from the East so it seemed like I needed to head East. I've been continually trying to reduce the amount of stuff I carry with me while still having enough to effect a self-rescue - like bike tools and a phone and at least one camera - and this time I also wanted to bring swimming stuff - just in case.

I set off using the start of the route I'd pinched off my friend Michael, which has quirky little alternatives which cut out some unpleasantness on the way out East. This route didn't go to Gifford but about 18 miles in I knew I was within a couple of miles of Gifford so diverted there to the Lanterne Rouge for a scone and a cup of coffee.

I go easy on the coffee these days so when I do drink it I feel it. It hit the spot. I think I thanked the woman who served me too vehemently because she looked a bit taken aback. The caffeine will make itself known. Now buoyed up with enthusiasm, I resumed my adventure.

Eventual route was Gifford - Tyninghame - Gullane - home.

Whether it was the coffee, or the bright sun with cool breezes, the beautiful scenery, the freedom, the whizz whizz whizz of my tyres on the road, or all of the above, I hit a delightful groove and was enjoying every minute.

I had promised myself a stop at the cafe at Tyninghame if I wanted because last time I did this part of the route I had a rather sad sandwich under a tree in the rain in East Linton and then just 5 miles down the road at Tyninghame people were sitting at tables drinking tea in the sunshine. This time I felt no need to stop though so pressed on. Instead of heading inland to avoid North Berwick I decided to go the coastal route through NB, Dirleton and then see if I could find the courage to go a swim at Gullane. I had packed my swimming stuff in an old bum bag and strapped it securely over my lock on the rack at the back and this arrangement worked very well.

The logistics of trying to get changed at the beach using only the cover of one of these small camping towels without frightening any children were taxing and getting in the water was comparatively easy. The water was nice and it was a shame I couldn't really do it justice by going a proper swim but I was already pushing it. It just seemed like since we were going to have a pocket-sized summer squeezed into one unlikely week in September, I should do as many summer things as I could manage.

I had a tail-wind all the way home so the last 20 miles or so were a breeze. I arrived home feeling very pleased with myself with just shy of 65 miles under my belt.

Since this had gone so well I decided it was time to tackle the Talla Circuit which I had again pinched from Stewart Whitlie off Strava. It had looked like a gnarly, hilly, scenic 50ish miler, starting and finishing in Peebles. I had been biding my time and waiting for the right moment to attempt it. There were a few practical problems to address before going - like emptying the back of the van which has been turning into a shed in the last year or so. Peter had a large moth trap stored in there! There were also old car parts which are probably no use but might be. Anyway, I did a bit of clearing, and Peter, rather reluctantly, agreed to come too. I have been feeling massively enthusiastic about the cycling just because it's been getting me out and about and discovering new places and it feels like I can finally get some of the buzz that I used to get out of running - but he still has running, so I can see his point. Also he's got an end of the summer, end of butterflies wistfulness about him at the moment. 

Off we set yesterday morning with the bikes in the van and headed for Peebles.

Talla Circuit - a 49 mile circuit with a nasty 7% climb!

It was after midday by the time we got parked up in Peebles and where it had been warm in Edinburgh, in Peebles it felt really hot. The sun was baking down. It had been a while since breakfast. It didn't feel like the optimal time to be setting out on an adventure, however set out we did. I also felt a bit responsible because I'd urged Peter to come with me telling him we'd have a great time, which is a dangerous thing to promise, because you never really can tell.  I was reflecting a few days before that I've cycled close to 2000 miles this year and never got a puncture so - well getting punctures is just part of cycling, bound to happen. In the first 5 miles I noticed my front tyre was singing a different tune on the tarmac and then soon after that realised that was because it was going down...Boo... no need for panic because we had all the stuff with us - but it didn't seem like the best of omens. My tyres were hard to lever off and it was a bit of a faff. It was sweltering. After a bit of swearing and straining we were back on the road.

The road was busy-ish for a while and the heat was making it feel like hard going - but when we came to the turn off for the Talla Reservoir things improved immediately and substantially. I had never even heard of Talla before Stewart had posted his bike ride and it's always amazing to find something new quite close to home. Because of the sun, I guess, there was a fair bit of traffic - quite a few motorbikes, some cars, some motorhomes, one or two cyclists. I knew there was a HARD CLIMB ahead at some point but hadn't studied the map that hard and didn't have a sense of where it was going to be.

Peter's picture of the climb. He abandoned the climb because he wanted photos. I abandoned it because my legs wouldn't go round any faster on my granny ring,

We saw the climb ahead with a silver car making its way really slowly down it. I wanted to wait until it was out the way so we'd have a clear run at it but Peter kind of urged me to get a move on and I caved. The guy in the car was really taking his time. Being a runner I don't have cleats on my bike or any of that jazz, but old fashioned cycle clips. I had to get past this boy in the silver car and he'd only left me 6 inches of tarmac and then he stopped his fecking car to say to me "I hope you've got plenty of gears on your bike". I didn't have space and took a foot out a clip in case I had to put a foot down. I got past him but I never got my foot back in the clip, which has a floppy strap and is a footer. All of this is my own fault but I was cursing the guy for getting in my way right at the start of the climb. It is steep right away and there was no time for trying to get my right foot back in the clip. I went down to my granny ring too quickly which was a mistake because then my little legs had to whizz round unfeasibly fast just to keep moving forwards, and I had to keep all my weight forwards so the front wheel didn't lift off. All of this and I was just hacked off. I got up the steepest part to a green grit bin at the side of the road but then pulled over as a girl on a white racer whizzed by me breezily saying it was a terrible hill. I was glad to see her boyfriend had a much tougher time and didn't even make it as far as the grit bin. If I'd thought I might have gone straight back and tried again because now I think I have to go back just to go all the way up the hill without stopping.

Anyway - it was good at the top. After a breather I carried on and it was never as bad again and then we were treated to a long, long, fast downhill past loads of bodies of water - whether they are connected or separate or all Talla or all have different names I don't know, and a better person would google it and find out. Maybe you are that better person! Then you could tell me.

So anyway.  It was hot and the middle section was great, but then getting back to Peebles started to feel hard. We were both pretty much out of fluids. We had brought sandwiches and ate them at the far end of this road. I didn't really have enough saliva.

After a while on a flattish road we turned right onto a long climbing road. Peter had said how hot and dry he was feeling and as we were passing a small river at the side of the road I expected him to call a halt but he didn't - but then he did, saying "I have to put my head under that water". I went and washed my face and put water on my legs but Peter went for a more immersive experience and one which seemed to revive him wonderfully. He was in a much better mood after that and then it helped that shortly after this we rounded a corner and there was a long, long scenic and pretty downhill.  There were a few more bumps in the road before finally arriving back at Peebles but I've forgotten them.

This snake was at the side of the road and we stopped to investigate, but it was dead. I would guess it was sunning itself and got run over. Such a shame. We cursed all the drivers.

At last, back at the van. I would like to do this route again on a cool morning.

Bicycle Adventures

 Well what am I going to call my blog? Nearly 6 months of not running is not very catchy. My knee seems a good bit better, thanks for asking; it looks nearly normal. Somedays it's worse and some days it's better. Steep inclines aren't good. I tried a wee run a few weeks back but it was a no-go - hot and sore inside.

So anyway I've been getting out on my bike, and have had some good adventures. Probably the best was at the end of July. I'd seen a route on Strava that Stewart Whitlie had done, with some stiff looking climbs, and for some reason I wanted to do it. It's a loop starting near Gifford that goes through Garvald and then up into the Lammermuirs, over the moors, on a wee thin strip of tarmac. People call it Redstone Rigg I think but I don't know exactly what part that is. The whole day out, including getting to and returning from Gifford, would be in the region of 66 miles which was a jump up from anything I'd been doing - so this one day I thought I would go and just have a look at the start of it.

I cycled to Gifford and stopped there at the Lantern Rouge for a cup of tea and a scone. It was raining a bit and it was after lunchtime, so I thought it would maybe be empty - but actually all the tables were in use when I went in - but there was just one man sitting at the big table next to the counter so I sat down there.

I was going to have a look at my phone as we do in these modern times but my table mate was in the mood for a chit-chat. He was doing a bit of driving for people on golfing holidays so was at a loose end in the middle part of the day. They give you free coffee top ups in the Lantern Rouge, so you need to watch out. I was drinking tea but my table-mate was drinking coffee and accepted a top up without much thought. He went from telling me the odd tale to giving me a barrage of anecdotes about golfing tours. It was getting later and I needed to get going so I was waiting for a break in the conversation to say so, but it wasn't coming. Eventually I put my hand up and said "Right I have to leave now."  My head was spinning by the time I left. I bet he was awake all night.

I had meant to think about what I was going to do next while I was in the cafe but I hadn't had a moment to think, so now I just went and started the route. The start of it was a commiting downhill into Garvald and although I told myself I could always back out, I think at that point I knew I was going to just go for the whole route. There was a steep, steep climb back up out of Garvald - so steep that I didn't want to use my granny ring as I knew it would be nearly impossible to get going again if I had to stop for a car or anything. Anyway, you don't need to know every detail. It was very steep and then up and down and then at the far end of this road you join another road near Whiteadder Reservoir and head back for Gifford, and that is a longer, but less steep hill. Maybe it's even Redstone Rigg!

I was in my happy place on this second hill. I like a long hill. It focuses the mind. The sun even came out for a while as I neared the summit.

All of this was followed by plummeting descents that you could really get some good speed up on IF you didn't put your brakes on. I put my brakes on though. Accounts of why that is vary according to who you ask. I say I'm just being cautious but Peter says I'm a pussy.

There was a stiffish headwind as I headed home, and, just after East Linton what had been a light shower of rain turned into a deluge and continued like that for over an hour. This actually felt quite helpful. It distracted from tired legs and bum ache and made a big day seem even more epic. I had a good jacket and it was still quite warm, so it wasn't really a problem. I arrived home eventually, very hungry, and delighted to have had an actual adventure instead of going boring cycles in town or going to the swimming pool. Maybe the worst thing about having a knee injury and not being able to run is that I feel so limited. So it was nice to push the limits a bit.

Another day I went up into the Pentlands. I hadn't been there for ages and really enjoyed the scenery, -  if not riding over the horrible chuckies between the Balerno side and the Howe. I have never been brave as far as mountain biking goes but now I am much worse. Ever since I came off my bike on the ice at the beginning of last year and stoved my ribs in AGAIN I'm just - well I'm just really against coming off my bike. If I did it more, maybe I would get better. My current MTB has 29 inch wheels and even though I really like it, I find it harder to handle than my old 26 inch one. I really need to keep my weight over the saddle if the ground is at all treacherous or it goes sideways really easily - and me with it. As  I made my way at a glacial pace over the flipping chuckies I was remembering things I used to know like that you need to choose your line and then commit to it rather than just constantly try to stay out of trouble or see what could go wrong. It might be that that also applies to life.

Eventualmente I came out the other side and was rewarded by a good long swoop down to Flotterstone on proper tarmac.

In between cycles I have still spent a fair bit of time hanging about in cemeteries in the undergrowth taking pictures of things. It's interesting how these new elements of life from the pandemic have stayed.

One day there was  a strong west wind blowing but I had a free day and wanted to get out on my bike. I'm getting to know East Lothian better but I hate setting off on a cycle or a run or anything with the hardest part later on - so I'd rather run uphill first and then downhill - and if there's to be a headwind, I'd rather cycle into it first and then get blown home than vice-versa. Using this logic I thought I should go West - but where to go?

Well, when I cycled up into the Pentlands the last time I'd gone all the way up the Water of Leith path, which I hadn't done for quite a few years - and in the latter stages noticed that on the cycle path signs it was signposting somewhere called Kirknewton a bit further on from Balerno. I googled it and made up a path from Kirknewton - assuming that it must be an okay route - through what seemed like quieter roads and over to Kirkliston. I seemed to remember that decades ago I'd cycled on a cycle path from South Queensferry to Kirkliston - so I thought that from Kirliston I'd get the cycle path to SQ and use the west wind to blow me home.

All this didn't really go according to plan though. There was a signposted cycle route but it was really confusingly signposted, or else I was just being dim that day. I had back-up things - so I had printed out a google map and I had my phone with me, but quite a few times I couldn't figure out what direction I should be going in. I don't know West Lothian very well, which was part of it, and I have Broxburn and Bathgate and Livingstone all muddled up in my head as cross-country venues somewhere along the A8.

This was in Almondell Country Park which sounds nice but by this time to be honest I hated it. It's a horrible country park. 

I ended up in a ridiculously bad mood. I cycled along the pavement for a good distance on an A road - can't remember which one - the wind was behind me so I was making good time but - well it was on a busy A road. When I did get to Kirkliston I didn't have any sense of where the cycle path was or if I'd actually just dreamed it up, so I took a road for Cramond I'd never been on before. Towards the Cramond end I was recognising things - like the airport - and then noticed that there was a sign for Craigie's Farm cafe up a hill. This seemed like a good idea and I cycled up the hill - but I thought it was going to be quite a small place but actually it was pretty big and there were loads of cars and nowhere to put my bike that I could see and continuing in my bad mood I just cycled off again and went home.

I think it was this cycle that made me think I want one of those proper GPS things for the bike. My phone is £100 phone and it can tell you where you are but it's not great at helping you get where you need to go - and I can download routes on my Garmin, but I have to know the whole route in advance. I wanted something better than that! So I splashed out a bit of cash on a Garmin Edge 1030 plus and then didn't use it for a wee while and wondered if I was a pillock.

It's been a rainy August. I took this while Peter and I were hiding under a tree in the cemetery in a downpour.

Another trip that I did with Peter was a couple of Mondays ago. I just had a bit of work in the morning but then was free for the rest of the day. We decided to go to Big Saltoun Wood as we hadn't been in a while. I think Peter was hoping there would be a new batch of Commas. The weather was a bit iffy to start with and it seemed like maybe it would be a wash-out, but then as we came into West Saltoun off the cycle path we were arrested by a Buddleia bush FULL of butterflies which raised the vibrations wonderfully!

After that we went on to the woods where there was a new emergence of Peacock Butterflies, all pristine and perfect. Then we saw Southern Hawker dragonflies - which PB was excited about, and eventually we cycled home!

The following Monday we returned and this time the Commas had emerged and were out in force, along with lots of Red Admirals.

Okay, nearly time for tea and the last day of the World Champ athletics so I'll make it snappy.

My new GPS thing had sat on my desk for a wee while making me feel guilty but I had not felt inspired to try it. Other things were happening. But the other day I pinched a friend Michael's route off Strava which was part known and part not known routes in East Lothian. I thought this was the best way of getting to know how to work it as I'd never be truly lost and yet I would see if it would take me anywhere good. I had an inauspicious start getting a soaking in the first 10 miles from which I never really dried out - and although I could get the map up on the GPS it kept beeping at me and I didn't know why. I realised 10 miles in that it was warning me I hadn't started recording. I didn't necessarily want to record as I still had my other Garmin on my wrist but once I'd put it on it was happy.

Long story short - it was great! The route was 60 miles and I was thinking I wouldn't necessarily do the whole thing, but one thing led to another and I did. It really seems like a game changer. I'm sure this isn't news to many people but it is to me.

The end. (Time for tea.)