Glentress Rocks! - 7/10/2006

Neil’s cunning plan of mountain biking at Glentress was flawless. If you consider a sketchy, 100k+, stinky, loud, diesel van flawless that is. We rented a very well used Ford Transit work van from the smarmy and very local Van Man somewhere near Fountainbridge. Being the only over 25, I was the designated driver. Originally, our van was scheduled to be the larger red variety, but the Van Man seemed a little concerned that I might be some meek little girly girl, American to boot, who would crash one of his rusted heaps, so he gave us the smaller white variety of old, knackered Transit. George dropped us off and made an Asda run. Neil was kind enough to ride shotgun and serve as depth perception on the drive home. Work van meant no rear view mirror and I’m not great to remember to check my offside. We made it back to Neil’s flat intact, where it took another 10 or so minutes to get bikes loaded in a reasonably safe and non-scratching array. Then we were off.

George drove with Fraser as shotgun. Neil and Jim rode with me, with Neil serving as navigator/scout and Jim as experienced-with-vehicles-of-dubious-merit backup driver. The old Van Man Transit handled better than we expected. Even though George was ahead when we left town and he managed to leave us behind at a light, we beat George to the Glentress lower car park by several minutes. Hmmm… Wrong turn anyone?

Rob of EKC fame met us at the car park. After obligatory faff, we were on our way. The plan for the day was the red trails. Quickly it became apparent that mountain biking in Scotland was true mountain biking, in the Out West sense. We cycled up for a very long time. Occasional bits of trails through the forest broke up the longer stretches on wide dirt roads. The view got better as we climbed. The weather looked as if it had rain on its mind the whole time. The wind felt like it meant business. I didn’t need a jacket for climbing, but once we reached the top, I was happy to have it. The top car park was as full as the two at the bottom.

Rob suggested a short stretch of downhill as a warm up, to make sure everybody was ready for the adventures of the day. We climbed a little more. Rob’s gave us instructions before we entered. When you get to the end, stay right. Will we know it when we get there? Yes. Stay right. Many of us dropped our saddles. Even though I wasn’t the slowest to the top, I figured I would be slowest on the way down. I was right, but so was Rob. After a few minutes of zipping through tight twisty turns down, I found the jumble he meant and stayed right. Being a little nervous leading up to it, I ended up stepping out. If we went at it for a second run, I doubt I would need that step. It really wasn’t bad. It was a bit steeper than Hamilton Creek of Nashville fame, but not nearly as technical.

Just a few zips and we were back climbing again. Back up near the top, we entered the first of the official red trails. Down we zipped, twisting and turning our way down steep switchbacks and over small rocks and roots. It was good fun. My body was happy to be back on a proper mountain bike trail, even though my backside was scheduling its complaints for later.

We regrouped after each stretch of downhill singletrack before climbing upward to the next trailhead. Zip. Climb.

Jim popped a tire. George broke a tire lever. Faff ensued, but not for long. We climbed again.

Zip. Climb.

In the middle of one particularly long climb, we stopped at an exposed overlook that had a picnic table and enjoyed some very necessary calories. Flapjacks, cheese and apple juice were my choices. They were the best meal ever at that particular moment.

The long climb continued. I had to walk once for about 3 seconds, but otherwise I was intact when we reached the top. I wasn’t last either. :) This next stretch was a longish section of downhill with some interesting jumps and banked verges. We regrouped at the top before charging downhill. Zip zip zip. It was awesome. I weenied out of the jumps – each one had an easy sneak – but the banked verges were a new joy. They countered Master Carl’s teachings years ago, but they made me feel fast. Zoom!

About halfway down the track, I heard the metallic clunk of faster riders approaching. I found a convenient spot and let them past. At that point, I made a friend for the day. A somewhat rattled girl pulled in behind me to let them past. Once they were gone, we continued onward together. I was a tiny bit faster in some places, so she insisted I lead. Zip. It was good to have company. We continued riding together after the breaks. She met up with her partner. I met up with my group. We all climbed. They went. Then we went. Zip. Climb.

Marathoning caught up with me eventually. I knew it would happen. I took some Vitamin I with breakfast in hopes of postponing it. About 2 hours in, the aches showed up. My legs slowed down on the climbs. My left hip started hurting. I pushed it for a little while, but eventually, I had to slow down and admit I couldn’t keep up on the climbs. I had lost my downhill buddy, too – we had lingered too long at one trailhead making a decision of which way. I slipped to last on the climbs and finally had to walk one stretch. I was given the option to bail then – the road to the bottom was just there – but I decided with just one downhill stretch left, I would enjoy the trail. Climb. Grunt. Zip. Periodically, the trail followed the road, but for the most part, it was me and the trees. I was happy with my choice, even though my hip was no longer silent. I zipped a little slower, but arrived at the bottom in one piece. It was most definitely lunchtime.

We regrouped with food outside the café and enjoyed the meal. Rob was the first to depart. Pregnant wife at home equals responsibilities. The rest of us lounged a bit longer, visited the bike wash and made our way home. This time, Jim rode in the car and left the joy of Van Man Transit to Neil and myself. It was still loud and impossible to have too deep a conversation, but I found myself getting more and more comfortable with the old girl. I could cope with driving it again.

We unloaded at Neil’s and then enacted the morning dropoff in reverse. Neil navigated me to Van Man lot and George picked us up from the street nearby. Van Man gave us our deposit back without even looking at the van or checking the fuel.

We adjourned to Neil’s to retrieve bikes and then left to find clean. George invited us over for dinner and whatever else, so long as it involved a lot of sitting and perhaps beer. Neil and I were the only takers in the end. Fraser had a train to catch and Jim I guess had lounging plans elsewhere. We ate curry – George and Neil split a package of chicken between them while I stuck to veg – and watched insane mountain bikers and then Serenity. The hardest part was the cycle home. My backside took about 10 minutes of cycling to stop complaining and just whine a little at the red lights. I slept well that night.