Not Nearly Fit Enough - Wan Dae Adventure Race - 20/9/2008

Wednesday afternoon, Tamsin emailed the ssppp list to remind people that the Wan Dae adventure race was happening on the weekend and places were still available. Friday night, Brian and I decided to give it a go.

One thing I like about races in Scotland is the leisurely start that we are afforded. We arrived to the Harlow visitor centre in the Pentland Hills a bit after 12pm for a 1pm start.

Just ahead of 1pm, we were handed our maps with funny symbols on it and a second sheet of paper that identified the symbols as checkpoints including point values. Around 1pm, the race organiser, who reminded me of Patrick from NashvAR, led us on a brief run through the muck and sent us on our way to whichever checkpoints in whichever order we wanted.

We chose a bike route first then the run route then the kayak. The bike route was very familiar terrain and the first two checkpoints were easy to find. The third involved a slight disagreement between Brian and me ("others went that way" is not always a good rule to follow in an adventure race) a few hundred extra metres of cycling before a long slog over a hill to other familiar terrain. That checkpoint was subdivided to three requiring some orienteering along the way. We had found the third on our way to the start. The first was easy but we missed the second and ended up combing an awkward hillside before I spotted it. Brian had more of a slog uphill than I did but soon we were on our way to revisit checkpoint 3 and back on the bikes out.

Another long and occasionally squelchy slog on the bike took us to another checkpoint and then a creative (also squelchy) route over a hill gave me the entertainment of watching Brian stop his bike with no brakes. He would sort of heave himself into the grass and then hop back on it. We found another checkpoint and spoke briefly to a non-racing mountain biker before enjoying a long descent to one of the reservoirs. My back was quite sore at this point, so I was grateful for the restful downhill.

We followed the pavement along the reservoir onto trail to the checkpoint transition for the "run". To get the points, we had to answer a riddle. Mary's mother has four children. The first is April. The second is May. The third is June. What is the name of her fourth child? Easy stuff. The run, however, was not.

We walked most of the run, which was more or less straight up and down Carnethy Hill with a few detours. We went downhill to reach one checkpoint and then realised the rest were at the top of the hill beside us or beyond it. Brian thought it would be best to climb the side of the hill, which alternated scree and shrubbery. In retrospect, I think the more sensible thing would have been to consult the map, realise that the contours meant steep slope and backtrack to the path. In any case, after much slipping and "Your fault!", we made it past the worst of it and took a few minutes rest. The mist rolled in, which motivated a premature end to the rest and a more pronounced effort to reach the top. The summit checkpoint was ours and we decided we had enough "running".

We returned via the trail, collected our bikes and finished the loop to the steep downhill. Sadly, we missed a checkpoint hidden by a creek crossing but less sadly, we found the checkpoint hidden in the trees near the unpronouncable carpark.

Last stop was the kayak. By the time we reached the kayak starting point, we had about 15 minutes left to the race. The mist hadn't reached Harlaw reservoir but the cold wind had. The support crew were not keen on us starting the kayak and one woman told us repeatedly that we would not make it back to finish on time. I don't mind her opinion but I did mind her arguing it repeatedly when I tried to talk to Brian. I wanted to scream at her to shut up and leave us be, but didn't because she had been out there all day in the cold, too. We decided no kayak in the end and cycled to the finish. I should have said something to her, because that was such a negative to end the day.

Cold, tired, sore, I wasn't so sad to not stay for the awards. Brian and I packed up and headed home for a well-earned evening of laziness.

A Donation to Glentress - 23/8/2008

Back in the saddle, red route, wet roots and mud, end of the day... I crashed again. Thankfully this time didn't return me to the care of the NHS. My prize was a looks worse than it feels welt on my right knee behind an ugly gash that looks like scar material. Seriously, it looks worse than it is. But it did make me wonder what do you call scars upon scars?

With Robie visiting from down south, Kathryn wanting a taste of more red trail and Brian's paintballing adventure not meant to be, we headed to Glentress for a day on the red and blue trails. I still find Glentress trails to be harder than other reds, not for actual difficulty but for layout. The ride gets most of the uphill over "quickly" with about 90% of uphill done before the second downhill trail starts. It is hard on my back. We skipped the first red taster trail and climbed straight through to spooky wood, with a few stops for people to get their lungs or legs back under them.

Spooky wood descent was good fun, as always. I stopped a couple of times to make sure Kathryn made it through some of the obstacles ok. She, Robie and I were reasonably matched for pace, which was really good except I was a tiny bit sad for skipping the taster descent. I find it the most challenging, mentally, and want to keep working on getting it back to where it needs to be. Another time is soon enough. That trail makes the uphill longer, which makes later trails more challenging than they ought to be for those who get tired.

Spooky wood descent was followed by other trails who were more noteworthy for what we saw than the trail itself. Robie's crashless crash above the must-not-miss hairpin, the occasional gaggle of riders around a flat tyre. Kathryn bailed above a soggy Pie Run, which I don't blame her. It was wet, slippery and messy. We met her above Magic Mushroom. At the bottom, we could choose an escape to the Hub or a finish to the trail. George and Kathryn chose cafe (hub) and the rest of us chose to finish the red route with Falla Brae first.

Falla Brae used to be my favourite of bike trails until Rattle and Hum at Mabie, which was replaced recently by all of Drumlanrig Castle. The reason for favouritism was simple. It offers a taste of cross country riding in a primarily downhill park. Now, erosion seems to be getting the better of it. Sadly. A jump has been built at the entrance, which can either be taken or avoided, followed by a few ups and downs along the ride. The last down has some tight turns and exposed rocks and roots. I slipped left on one of the exposed roots leading up to a turn, recovered but overcompensated with a wild, Flintstones-style flail on the right that landed me leg/knee first on the trail with the bike and rest of me following quickly. Ouch. I was up and dusting off before the next rider came, but he did slow down and ask if I was ok. I said yes and thank you before he rode on promising to tell my friends ahead. No sooner was I around the bend when I heard similar sounds and saw a heap of rider and bike in the same place. He dusted himself off, more embarrassed that he wiped out in front of me than having wiped out at all. I asked if he was ok and offered my sympathies. The telltale trickle of blood was working its way down my leg, so there was no hiding it. I let him and his cadre of faster riders past before continuing on my way. The rest of the ride was uneventful.

I had wondered if I should avoid seeing Kathryn before cleaning off the war wound. No such luck. She shared her badge of honour, too. I did clean off before lunch.

After lunch, Neil, Robie, George and Kathryn climbed the hill again. Given Brian's lack of significant brakes and my back waiting to act up, Brian and I chose to potter around for a while instead. We ended up climbing the hill part way and running the last of Falla Brae back to the car park. We had time for a bike wash and another wound wash before everyone else caught up.

Sadly, no photos this time. Neil was not pleased with his crop of photos and my camera stayed in the bag. For a Glentress trail map, click here.

Pentlands Run - 27/7/2008

The compromise for Saturday spent shopping was mandatory fun on Sunday. No scary Ikea, no epic gumtree scrolling. After morning bike faff drifted into early afternoon bike faff, including an exploded old tyre tube in Brian's bike, we managed to get organised and out the door. From Slateford either the Union Canal or Water of Leith walkway is a good starting point. We decided Water of Leith out, canal back. Good choice -- it's more mountain bikey from the start. Yes, there are walkers to dodge, but the canal path is far more challenging for those hazards.

Neil helped end bike faff and then we headed out the door, entering the official park by way of the evil Currie Hill. I made it all the way to the top this time, though to be fair my back wasn't very pleased about it. It's a long climb and therefore a long time to be scrunched on a bike. Even with a few standing climbs to break it up.

Soon into the park, fire roads can be parallelled by occasionally squidgy single track. I had no hope of keeping up with the boys but enjoyed the twists and turns plenty on my own. Neil photographaffed as well, which broke up their waits. Combination of the epic shop and the long slog up to the park, I didn't have much endurance once we got there. When we finished the singletrack bits, I asked to be directed toward the pub within the next half hour. That was the plan anyway -- I don't think the route was shortened -- and we cycled across to Balerno and then back to Currie in search of pub. Brian led the way and we enjoyed our juice on their pseudo-patio setup outside.

It had been over a year since I had seen that part of the Pentlands. Only other escape was a short run ages ago that was too much too soon. Must make a habit of heading up that way more often, especially now that it's so close to home.

Drumlanrig Castle Escape - 22/7/2008

Yes, a Tuesday adventure. Under orders to take some time off, I skipped out on work on Tuesday, kidnapped Neil and forced him to go to Drumlanrig Castle against his will. My initial plan was Carron Valley since I had to pick up some dirt in Bishopbriggs, which is reasonably close, but Neil persuaded me that Drumlanrig was worth some extra time in the car. He was right -- Drumlanrig Castle rocks! Well, I know nothing of the castle except that it is made of rocks. The mountain bike trails around it are awesome and I can't wait to go back.

We rode most of the black and red loops through the forest, which doubles back on itself too much to call it a loop as in singular. It's exciting enough that you end up going hey that looks like nice singletrack... oh yeah, I've ridden that already... as you disappear down yet another singletrack trail. I walked some of the black bits but rode many others. All are best described as that bit with the tree and the roots and the rocks and the turn. Trailkeeper Rik's secret to trail maintenance is to not build wide trails. The trails don't really show wear and some look like they have hardly been touched at all, let alone ridden.

Some combination of my back getting tired and the rest of me getting tired forced an end to the ride, maybe 3/4 or more through the complete set of loops. We got back to the trailhead and the bike shop early enough to see the bike museum and get a shot at the penny farthing. Ricky says it's cheating because it had pneumatic tyres and hand brakes, but it still took some balance and determination to get started. Not enough momentum and you can fall off before getting on. Too much momentum and you might fling yourself past the pedals. The oracle of wikipedia says that it's quite easy to take a header from a penny farthing and I don't doubt it.

As my new favourite bike playground, Drumlanrig Castle needs a revisit. Soon. It reminds me a lot of mountain biking in Tennessee, probably a cross between Montgomery Bell and the advanced loop at Hamilton Creek for the Tennesseans out there. There were no epic climbs or epic descents, just lots of tight, twisty single track. One longish descent felt epic only because there wasn't anything else like it. Can't wait to go back.

Neil's photos are here.

A penny for your thoughts? (photo courtesy of Neil)

Awkwardly launched but successful. (photo courtesy of Neil)

Mind Over Matter: A Return to Glentress - 5/4/2008

Back to the scene of the crime. Months and months ago, I set a goal for myself to go back to Glentress by the time the one year anniversary of my argument with the jumps course rolled around. Saturday, Brian and I went. No big groups or big announcements. I didn't want the fuss and, knowing that it would be a long slog to the top, I didn't want to slow anybody down. There's plenty of time to get faster. I wanted to get the anxiety out of my system.

We took a leisurely morning and as a consequence, the not so nice weather was with us by the time we arrived. We cycled up the hill at the pace I expected. Slow. Steady. I'll get there eventually. Hail one minute, sun the next, more hail the next minute, etc. I cycled past the scene of the crime, and kept cycling. The first little taster trail would give me an idea if I would be up for the rest. Plenty of people cycled past me, but I had the satisfaction of passing someone who had passed me only to walk a few minutes later. I'll get there eventually.

Hail is interesting here. Not always furious pelting of large bits of ice. Periodically throughout the cycle, hail fell like snow and accumulated in the grass beside the trail.

Anxiety and I had our first words on the taster section. I went first but sent Brian past me soon after. His howling brakes were not doing my composure any favours. I didn't have any real problems, physically. Twists and turns did what they were supposed to do. The change from climb to descent gave my back a rest. Then I came to the one interesting hairpin that had a couple of women strewn along the downhill below it. I wasn't ready. I Flintstones stopped and let a couple of guys past me while I figured out how to walk the next few steps. That hairpin really isn't a big deal. It's the falling away beside it that makes it look more serious. In reality, I already ran it by the time I stopped completely. Next time. I rode past the girls eventually and had no real problems the rest of the way. Mind over matter.

More climbing followed. And kept following. My mind played tricks on me, but I argued back. Brian cycled ahead. Sometimes I saw him, sometimes I didn't. I watched him have to walk a few tricky bits and yelled "Ha!" at the trail when I didn't have to. It helped with the anxiety. We reached the top and the same guys we had been passing and being passed by were waiting beside Brian. I have to admit feeling a bit out of place with the shiny bike, no clipless pedals, a fanny pack with water and a boyfriend cycling partner riding a bike with no suspension and a pannier bag attached.

The descent from Spooky Wood was another that helped purge the anxiety from my system. I zoomed ever so slowly past the tabletops and around the bends. It felt good to be back, even though everything made me nervous. Again Brian started behind me and again his squealing brakes made me not want him there. Ahead he went and I plodded along at happily slow pace. I met him at the bottom and we continued to the next track. And the next track. Some point fairly soon into the big descents, Brian burned through his brakes and added another challenge to his day. No suspension, not enough gears, not always functioning gears and now no brakes. I made him go first on each track and told him to not be stupid. If it got too hard to control the bike, there would be ways out. But I hoped we wouldn't have to bail. It felt good getting right with Glentress, even if I wasn't setting any speed records.

At one point, we stopped so Brian could attempt to fix his bike. Sadly, the rock and the stick he used as tools didn't seem to do much. He kept cycling and I kept sending him out front.

The end came sooner than I expected, though my body was tired enough for it to arrive. The wet conditions meant we took some of the trail home with us. I remembered a change of clothes but not clean shoes. Brian forgot clean trousers and clean shoes, so we shopped in Peebles for new trousers for him on our way south to Moffat.

We arrived to Moffat within the timeframe Brian expected. Joy's food was wonderful, the warm indoors was welcome and the alcohol meant when my head hit the pillow, the sleep was good.

Filthy Brian

The last drop just rolled away like I had never left.

Brian pushed the bikes up the non-path as dark clouds loomed ominously.

Glentress Introduces Me to the NHS - 29/4/2007 - 4/5/2007

Ninety-five percent of the day at Glentress was fantastic. Great weather, great trail conditions, great company. Less than 100m from the car, on the last bump of the last run of the day, my day went very wrong. I remember three snippets before the walk to the ambulance. I hit the last bump with what retrospect tells me was too much speed. The back tyre came up behind me and I remember thinking oh crap this is going to hurt. The next bit I remember is being on the ground and sort of flailing trying to find air, like I had the wind knocked out of me. Brian said that wasn't exactly true. Yes, I was trying to find air, but I wasn't moving really at all. I prefer my memory. The next bit I remember is sitting up with Bram and being angry that I couldn't remember what happened. I don't like not remembering. I don't like losing time. I think my companions were a bit surprised by my anger. I told my dad about it later and he laughed, thinking it a very Christine moment. Somewhere in between the not flailing and sitting up with Bram, an A&E doc who happened to be at Glentress examined me and said it was ok to let me sit up. I don't remember him at all. My next memory is the totter to the ambulance, something I was very determined to do because somewhere in my rattled head, getting up and walking meant I was ok.

Brian made the journey in the great white chariot with me. No lights or sirens this time, as the driver was going as slow as he could within reason, much slower than I'm sure the rest of the traffic wanted to travel. I said no to morphine (no needles, thanks) and couldn't breathe deep enough for the nitrous to do its thing, so the drive was as bad as it could be. For the totter to the ambulance, my chest hurt and it hurt to breathe deeply. Once in the gurney and driving, my back hurt, too. They had me breathing enriched air to make up for my shallow breathing and help bring me back toward 100% coherence. I felt nauseous, so I looked out the window as much as I could to help distract myself.

Once at Edinburgh's Royal Infirmary, the paramedics helped me totter from the gurney to a wheelchair. They chose to class my injury as cardio thoracic in nature so that I would spend less time waiting for treatment. Once in the hospital, I was put in an exam room pretty quickly and onto yet another gurney. They did chest x-rays, confirmed a fractured sternum and decided to keep me overnight for observation. They also gave me a lot of drugs. Callum and Bram came to see me briefly and Brian asked if there was anything from home that I wanted. They set off and shortly afterward, I was taken to the cardio thoracic high dependency ward.

A few hours later, Brian came back to see me and got the list of people who needed to hear from me. I'm not sure how much more time he spent with me. I drifted in and out of drug-induced sleep. Brian left me with an Oor Wullie and the Broons anthology, which was absolutely perfect for being strung out on pain killers. If I fell asleep in the middle of a comic, I had to start over at the top of the page instead of back several pages or chapters.

The next morning, I had nurses hovering and eventually a flock of doctors came to see me. I was the outlier of the high dependency ward, not really a cardiac injury as the blood tests and the ECGs were showing. They let me out of bed to a chair, but that adventure ended when I tried to faint on my physiotherapist. It also ended my moratorium on needles -- I got stabbed with an IV to help bring me back toward coherence. The fainting spell brought back the doctors. Turns out one of them had done the same sort of thing to himself kiteboarding the year before. I found him oddly comforting. I was still complaining of back pain, so he and another doctor had asked me a bit more about the accident and then got me sent away for more x-rays. Those came back showing three fractures, though not clear enough to say whether or not the fractures were stable. One of the less socially versed of consultants came back to see me and told me I would be confined to my bed completely until they did a CT scan to assess the fractures better. Then she left, with me a bit of a mess for Brian and the nurses to comfort. The drugs continued, which meant every few hours, I would take a tramadol departure into LaLaLand.

Word of my predicament spread quickly, so I had a steady stream of visitors starting sometime on Monday. Drugs and LaLaLand meant my already dubious sense of time was more stretched. Friends from work and canoeing came to see me. I apologised to Masha for hopefully not scaring her too much. My supervisors came at the end of their work day. Jason told me I was fired. Then they both laughed. Somewhere in that conversation, my next doping came along, so I told them they had half an hour more before I got really stupid again. My parents phoned, too, and as much as I tried, there was no convincing Mom to not get on a plane. The question was simply Tuesday or Wednesday. The crazy kiteboarding doctor came back to see me, too, and gave me a more thorough description of his injuries and recovery. He said he put himself in hospital last July and was out snowboarding in January. His perspective was comforting.

Friends brought me music, toys and more books. Brian brought me more food so that I wouldn't starve on hospital food that I couldn't eat. Sadly, I didn't get to see Alana to thank her for the teddy bear. I did get to thank my work friends for their teddy bear. The two bears were great company for most of my time there, although, sadly, they were not allowed CT scans.

So Tuesday came around and by then I knew most of the nurses in my section of the ward. Two of them accompanied me to the CT scan and back to the ward. Because of the potential severity of the injury they had to log roll and slide me onto a gurney for transport. They have special porters to wheel the gurneys through the hospital. I asked mine if he would take me outside on his way back to the ward. He laughed and rolled his eyes.

About an hour after I got back to the ward and was deposited back into my bed, Rebecca, my primary day nurse convinced me to try eating. She cut up a plain omelette and doused it in tomatoes and cheese. She set it on my chest below the wounded sternum, so that I could reach everything easily enough. After she left to tend to other things, one of the doctors who I recognised from the morning flock came over to tell me my fractures were unstable, I would have to lie completely flat in the bed and an orthopaedist would be around to see me. He popped the bed down flat and left me there, plate on my chest, omelet bits spilling over, sobbing. That's how Rebecca found me again. She got the worst of it cleaned up and me slightly calmed down. Brian arrived a few minutes later and helped get me more calm and ready to cope with the diagnosis. A little while later, the orthopaedist came by to tell us that the fractures were all stable and I would be moved to the orthopaedics ward and they would start getting me mobile again. So basically, that first doctor completely misread my report. Fun.

I spent one more night in the high dependency ward awaiting transfer. More friends came to see me and I got to pass on some good news to the parents. Mom was still coming, but she would take the Wednesday flight instead of the Tuesday flight. That night, I got rolled to prevent bedsores. At Rebecca's insistence, they had cut back on my drugs, so aside from a brief bout with nausea, I got some restful sleep.

Wednesday's fun was transferring wards. I got moved to the orthopaedics ward, which was nearly impossible to find according to everyone who came to visit. More people were allowed to visit, but hours were slightly more controlled than in the other ward. One nurse chased Amy away because she was 10 minutes early for the first visiting hours. My first room had me in with a lady very obviously and very vocally suffering from dementia. My other roommate and I were happy when she was relocated, but annoyed it took two hours of the poor woman wailing for the staff to respond. Callum stopped by to visit at the same time as I was moved to a new room. The friendly, but not completely competent nurse crashed my bed into the wall three times along the way and then crashed my night stand into the bed for good measure. Great fun for a spinal injury.

Moving and more visitors were the only forms of excitement that I was allowed for Wednesday. I wanted out of bed, but knew that I would be a heap of Christine on the floor if I tried to get up without help. Thursday would arrive soon enough.

Mom arrived Thursday morning and thanks to Bram, made it to the hospital fairly quickly. She was sleep-deprived, caffeinated and wound up with anxiety, but it was good to have her there. Equally good, within an hour or two of her arriving, my first session with the physiotherapists had me out of bed and into a chair relatively quickly, with a walk with the zimmer frame set for the afternoon. At least Mom's first sights of her wounded daughter were positive, unlike what she could have witnessed in previous days. I had to remind her a few times that my bed was not a table to put stuff on. She added to the collection of toys and sat with me through my noble effort at lunch before heading off to my flat for a shower and possibly a nap. Thankfully, Brian had kept up my supply of food, including fruit and gloop (soy yogurts and Mullerice), because the hospital cuisine lived up to its stereotype. My post-lunch zimmer was good and my status was upgraded to allow me to zimmer with supervision. I was unplugged soon after and very much appreciated the independence. I spent some more time in the chair and the nice nurse who took my food tray away put the zimmer frame in the opposite corner of the room. I was in my chair, but trapped. Eventually, I had to page someone to help me totter back to bed.

Brian came back in the evening, just before Mom got back slightly more rested but still wired. More friends came to see me. I got to share zimmering adventures. I was utterly exhausted. Thankfully Mom talked enough for everybody so they didn't really notice my eyes rolling back and other signs of my struggle against sleep. After everybody else left, I showed Mom and Brian my zimmer frame skills as I got to the bathroom and back all by myself. They had to help me with shoes, though, as I hadn't figured out how to reach that far comfortably.

Friday rolled around. The new flock of doctors came to see me again and one of the consultants said he thought I would be getting home sometime on the weekend. I was happy to hear that. I expected more fun with the zimmer frame, but Stephanie, my physiotherapist, proceeded directly to having me walk on my own. I was out for a good twenty minutes, walking/tottering slowly down the hallway as well as up and down some stairs. I asked if I could go outside and she said I could go home! Since Brian had offered for me to stay with him and both he and Mom were around enough to keep me out of trouble, they were ready to send me home. Brian's is a ground floor flat with only a handful of steps (and conveniently misremembered handrails). The consultant's original idea was me going home to my third floor flat, so by the time my dad phoned, I could tell him the good news.

The chart above my head declared me independent, so I tottered whenever I could. I told Stephanie she unleashed a monster. Brian was in Glasgow for the day, so unfortunately, the journey home would have to wait until the evening. One more day of hospital ambiance wouldn't be so bad. After one more good bump in the arm, I was finally freed of the IV stint by my very apologetic nurse. We tested the anti-nausea drug in pill form and found that far more agreeable than the IV injection that made me more nauseous instead of less. Then the nurse wanted to kick me out of the ward completely. They had a big influx of new people and needed the bed. She suggested we could wait for Brian in the discharge lounge and then stopped to think for a few moments more. Spinal injury. Four hours in hard plastic chairs. Great plan. She left to make other arrangements so I could stay where I was.

My other two roommates left and two new women closer to my age were wheeled in. The woman next to me had a few spinal fractures from being chucked off a horse. I'm not sure why the other lady was there. She had some friends with her constantly and was wheeled out of the room as soon as the nurses left. I used my newfound independence to totter around the ward some more, including a totter down the hall to vend the other spinal fracture lady a TV card.

Brian arrived just about when he expected, a little after 6pm. I got to show off my independent status, but sadly, he agreed with Mom that I shouldn't walk from the ward to the car because it was quite far. Charlie from the kayak club arrived a few moments before so he got roped into helping lug all of my stuff and me to the car. The three of them convinced me that a wheelchair ride to the front door was the best idea. My totter out the door was short, but the freedom felt good.

Glentress Introduction - 29/4/2007

Callum, Bram, Bram's niece Masha, Brian and I headed for a Sunday morning adventure to Glentress mountain bike park. Rob joined us at the car park, as Robin, Niall and George were planning to do something silly like see who could run the red route the fastest. It was Masha's second time on a proper mountain bike trail, Brian's first and to make it more entertaining, Brian was determined to run the red route on his shiny and not shiny no suspension bike. He said any soreness from the run would be my fault, but I told him several times that it would be his own stupid fault. We had a great day out, running the full red route, substituting the one technical cross country section with a gentler downhill section. My preference is for dry tree roots when cycling a technical trail, something perhaps difficult to find in Scotland. The run took us a couple of hours and we ended with a meal and a good sit outside the Hub cafe. Brian was pleased with himself for his suspensionless run of the red route and didn't seem enormously sore for it.

After lunch, we headed back to the top to play on the new blue freeride route, which I would call a jump park. In the US, freeriding is trailless riding. In the UK, it's exactly the opposite, very sculptured riding. Anyway, we played. I walked one bit of north shore that I ran on the second and third go rounds, very pleased with myself with putting mind over matter and trusting myself to run it. About 95% of the day was great fun. The other 5% began a whole other adventure.

Callum zoomed down a stretch of north shore that looked harder than it was. I walked it the first time and ran it the second and third times.

Bram zoomed.

Brian zoomed.

Masha took the more sensible route around the north shore.

Callum does some unfortunate (for me anyway) foreshadowing on the last jump.

Mabie Revisited - 17/3/2007

A week and a half ago, Callum and I hatched a plan to go mountain biking somewhere other than Glentress. It was going to be his first Saturday off since the new year and he wanted to take full advantage. Our plan was flexible. Maybe Mabie... or Ae... or Drumlanrig... or Kirroughtree. Or anything else that struck our fancy. The night before, we decided on Mabie. Amy and Bram joined us. Callum picked me up and then we prodded Amy and Bram out their door. We were on our way to Dumfries before 10am.

We skipped the blue loop and I left my camera in the car, so what we ended up with was a much faster run of the red Phoenix Trail than my last time through. The advantages were many, most noticeably the lack of bonk and the completion of the run before the rain got heavy. The things I enjoy about Mabie are the same. More of a cross country feel to the trails, with lots of ups and downs, although I do enjoy the sweet downhill that follows the Descender Bender. It was cold and windy, especially since we had lunched at the top of the DB, enjoying the view while Amy helped Bram reattach his derailleur to his bike. Snow flurries chased us away from the view as our nice patch of sunshine got blown north and east. Initially Amy and Bram were ahead of me, but Bram sent me ahead because my brakes' Juicy Squeals made him more stressed than he needed to be. By the halfway mark, I was leading with Amy not far behind.

I railed the berms and bounced over dropoffs, occasionally knocking my feet off the pedals. I missed my spuds. One of my two compromises to my ailing hamstring was no clipless pedals. The other was to not fight (and therefore walk) up the steepest of hills. The pedal one was far more annoying and definitely inconvenient with my feet flying off pedals at random.

Downhill ended with the Burn Splash and the next big challenge was the Scorpion climb. I expected to be walking that at some point, but hoped to get farther than the last time. I was right on both accounts and ended up walking 2/3 of the hill instead of 3/4. More ups and downs followed as we wound our way through the woods and up across the pass back toward home. Some of the North Shore sections were interesting. I walked the beginning of one because the wind felt like it was going to blow me off it.

The last gnarly bit as we dropped back down to the carpark was a rocky stairsteppy thing. With on and off rain, it was quite wet and slippery. Amy wanted a shot anyway and made it about 1/3 of the way down before bailing. I will confess I wanted to try it. Still do. In the dry.

A few more twists and turns and we were back to the first junction. I led the way toward Rattle and Hum, my favourite trail. Twisty and turny, rocky and rooty, it reminds me of home and for that reason made a perfect end to fun day on the trail.

On the way out, Callum stopped by the playground. Amy and I got our run of the zip line. Then we headed for home as the rain yet again picked up.

Fresh Legs in Pentlands - 17/2/2007

George and I cycled off to the Pentlands early Saturday afternoon after morning errands. The sun was out. The day felt relatively not cold. When we got to the top of the evil Balerno hill that I now know is the evil Currie hill because I have a shiny map of the Pentlands, my legs felt pretty good. Dangerous. I didn't need granny gear and my legs weren't mad at me yet. At the top of the dirt continuation of that hill, we turned left. I'd never gone left before.

Left meant more up, but not as steep as evil Currie. We crested the pass, zoomed a little and then stopped to climb us and our bikes over a fence. Zooming down the other side was good fun. The track was wide open so we could see those climbing up on bike or foot and therefore correct speed in time. In between people, zooming could be fast safely.

We chose to do a loop behind Black Hill, which meant a right turn onto a paved track at the bottom of the hill. The loop followed the paved bit for a while. Sunny day, not much rain lately meant Saturday afternoon on that path was much like Saturday afternoon along the Union Canal towpath. Lots and lots of bodies to dodge. The paved path followed a loch and eventually became dirt track. Generally the direction was up but challengingly so. Dirt track brought us to the aftermath of the Carnethy 5 hill race and we considered ourselves fortunate for the timing. One of the race officials made fun of George’s accent when he asked about runners. I stayed silent and smiled on cue. George and I laughed about it a few seconds later, not just about pots and kettles but also the wise choice of staying quiet.

Up became slightly more up, across a burn with a head-over-handlebars wooden bridge that we walked. Then the path crossed some interesting rocks in a sweeping left that I didn’t need to step out of but unfortunately did. Soon we took a short break to decide where next, didn’t break long and continued to a stretch of trail that I recognised. We were now on the stretch of trail that Jim, Jason and I rode in December, except this time heading in the wrong direction. The boggy muck that Jim led us through was up the steep bit to the right. We continued straight on, enjoyed a few zooms and climbs and crossed the field to Bavelaw Castle. On the way down the small evil hill, George hit 39.4MPH. I was only slightly behind him.

George and I parted ways near the car park below. He was going to send me down through Balerno but I decided to play on the trails through the woods back to the visitor centre. Unlike the trip with Jim and Jason, I didn’t fall off my bike but I did find a quagmire of my very own that required some creativity to walk around. My legs were done just before the visitor centre, so I skipped that last bit of trail. On the way out, I was fortunate to bump into Brian and had good company for the cycle back to town.

My best guess is I did about 25 miles of cycling. It was definitely the farthest I had ridden in a good while, at least over challenging terrain. I paid the price on my long run the next day and fell apart at mile 8.5, not finishing a 12 mile training run.

Fresh Blood for Glentress - 28/1/2007

A Sunday afternoon ride with Callum at Glentress became a larger affair, with Bram taking his first trip on a mountain bike (borrowed from an unfortunately absent George), Amy her second, EKC Chris joining us, all of us but Neil learning new trails and several of us donating blood to those trails. Callum showed that callumities are not always limited to the rivers: he had two good crashes for the day. I demonstrated the importance of being clipped in to misnamed clipless pedals with a slide home on the equally misnamed freeride course. Bram enjoyed the lower faff factor compared to river trips. Amy got faster and even more daring. A good day was shared by all, despite injuries.