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.

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.

Pentlanding and Unicycling - 20/1/2007

With a trek to the Pentlands on tired legs and a unicycle tutorial later in the evening, I slept well on Saturday night. I learned firsthand where the word quagmire comes from. I knew connotations such as "sticky situation" and "dilemma" generally, but never knew it's mushy peat origins. Neil, George and Euan hinted at its definition for me, but the ride defined it more specifically. We headed into the Pentlands via a steep climb in Bonaly instead of a steep climb in Balerno or the other steep climb in Bonaly. The steepest climb was up a trail covered in large fist and skull sized rocks. I don't know if Neil climbed it successfully on his bicycle. I will assume yes because he's disgustingly fit for that sort of thing. The slope of the hill seemed rideable, which made it all the more frustrating that getting started and maintaining momentum over the rocks felt impossible. As I watched George and Euan struggle, too, I decided the more efficient climb would be on foot. I ran past them pushing my bike and caught my breath for two minutes before they rejoined us. It was the only climb I wasn't last for, but I felt I deserved a pat on the back for it!

That last climb put us at the road that was just a few hundred metres from the top of the evil paved Balerno hill. We took a left there and continued climbing and bopping through slippery, wet, rooty trails and the occasional quagmire. The transition from trees and shelter to open Pentlands hillsides meant the wind made itself known. I suppose I should have mentioned that we chose to ride on a sunny day with 30-40MPH winds. In the Pentlands. Where trees are not the most common form of vegetation by any means. Glutton for punishment.

We stopped for a late lunch in the shelter of some trees not hugely far away from the visitor centre. Neil and I left the journey early, with Neil concerned that he needed to get to a bookshop before it closed and me concerned my toes and fingertips wouldn't be able to thaw if I rode much longer. George and Euan continued longer and each took journeys over the handlebars when underestimating the depth of one particular quagmire at the bottom of a hill. After the bike ride, I returned to Neil's with unicycle and some dinner ingredients in hand.

Unicycling videos are here and Neil's pre-Pentland bench hits and misses are here.

Pentlands Bonk - 30/12/2006

So after nearly 24 hours of travel that involved slogging 35kg of luggage around 3 airports, 1 train, 1 bus, 2 taxis and several flights of stairs, I thought it would be a fantastic plan to go play in the Pentlands the next day. Neil and Fraser helped try to kill me, but in the end it really was my own stupid fault. My shiny new bike needed christening but my legs just wouldn't work.

I managed to get to the trails more or less in one piece. I cycled up the evil hill's little sister on what turned out to be a flat tire. We decided first ride flat tire was true to form for the FSRxc. Bertie pulled out a nail from his. I pulled out a 1cm thorn from mine. Neil and Fraser helped change the tire. The day was gorgeous, unlike the forecast suggested, but it was still cold enough for my hands to not want to function. I appreciated the help. We rolled onward. Evil hill itself required walking.

On the first downhill after the evil hill, Fraser broke his chain. Good practice with the chain tool. At the top of the next hill, we eventually came to a fence. I decided that I probably could make it home in more or less one piece, so I decided not to continue. Neil and Fraser decided that was ok and joined me, with, of course, Neil proposing a detour on the way back. We cycled back the way we came. Fraser learned the hard way that wet grass is less useful for stopping than loose gravel. He crashed, skidmarks and all, just by the gate midway down the evil hill. After the gate, we detoured left through the woods. Fraser and I chose to push or carry several precarious spots on the trail even though Neil assured us that they looked worse than they were.

We came to a nice stretch of wooded downhill. I took off ahead to take some photos. Neil and then Fraser came shooting down behind me and zoomed up the next hill. I opted for the weenie route and watched from a distance as they climbed and then zoomed down a fairly steep hill. Neil was down the other side before I had time to set up with the camera, but I managed to catch Fraser start the descent, tumble over the handlebars and wipe out with the bike ending up about 10m farther down the hill than where he ended up all because he couldn't clip in and therefore couldn't lean as far back as the descent required. I joined Neil at the bottom of their hill and Fraser soon rejoined us with a brake lever bent into a not very useful position. Poor bike. Once he and Neil fixed the brake lever, Fraser realised that one of the bolts from his cleats was missing and that was probably the reason he couldn't clip in earlier. He attempted to find it on the hill, failed miserably and instead reset the cleat with one bolt, hoping it would be enough to keep it in place for the ride home.

We followed the trail back to the car park and took one last singletrack hurrah for about a 100m descent from the car park. The rest was paved, but speed bumps at least made it interesting. Bunny hopping with a bike that fits is amazingly fun.

I made it home more or less in one piece with no new bruises. In that regard, the christening run was successful. My legs were not pleased with me, though, and demanded the 31st off. They didn't quite get it. Walking to and from Gorgie in 20-40mph winds isn't exactly restful, but it's probably kinder than another hilly cycle would have been.