Fanylion Mountain Bike Team
Official site of the Fanylion Mountain Bike Team. Includes mountain bike ride guides, gear reviews, bike maintenance, team reports and rider profiles of the Fanylion Racing Team.
Blair Atholl & Glentress
July 17, 2004, Scotland
More pics here.
"Bollocks" I muttered as I checked the weather forecast. "Heavy and persistent rain will fall over much of Scotland during Saturday and Sunday" claimed Michael Fish as I tuned into the BBC weather report. Heavy rain was the last thing I wanted after persuading Team Fanylion to venture north to Blair Atholl to tackle a pretty exposed loop in the southern Grampians. As part of the deal we would also ride at Glentress Forest on Sunday, one of the Seven Stanes centres situated across southern Scotland.
My mood hardly improved on the drive to Blair Atholl on Saturday morning as dark clouds burst open and rain lashed down. The rain was particularly heavy as I drove through the Drumochter Pass (1500ft) - we were to reach heights well in excess of this during the ride and I was getting nervous. However, as I drove south the weather began to brighten and didn’t look as bad when I arrive at the Glen Tilt car park at half ten. Team White Sox soon joined me despite initially ending up in the wrong car park. He arrived bearing gifts - donuts - which we scoffed instantly and was wearing a stylish pair of white football socks. Such attention to detail revealed his true dedication to FanyLion. A quick call to Hodgson revealed that the rest of the teams’ arrival was imminent and that we may even set off on time.
When the weekend had been planned a few months ago seventeen riders, yes seventeen, claimed to be coming. Hodgson was confident some would drop out and he was proved right. The attendance of eleven riders was guaranteed although twelve arrived as Cliff Diver’s mate Rick (Team Hooded Top & Jeans) tagged along. Unfortunately Team Starkey was unable to attend having been laid low by food poisoning. He really should learn to cook his squirrels and hamsters more thoroughly.
Of course we didn’t set off on time. Twelve riders equals a lot a faffing around, meeting and greeting and fettling bikes. Everyone was introduced to Hodgson’s mate Rorie. Rorie’s bike was something else - a Nicolai Helius FR which weighed about 34lbs. In fact it was much lighter than it looked. The bike consists of huge tubes of Easton aluminium held together by massive welds and includes a heavy-duty wheelset and indestructible Bombers. The welds would not look out of place on an oil tanker and Rorie assured me that he rode through most things. I believed him. Finished in olive green it looked the part and could easily have been mistaken for a tank. Meeting the rest of the team was all to much for Rorie and he announced that he needed a dump. No toilets or toilet roll meant a trip to the woods and a hunt for some Scottish moss. While he was doing what needed to be done various riders approached me with fear in their eyes asking about the ride and if it was true that there was a seven mile climb. I happily informed them that there were no bail out options at all, the ride was 35 miles long and that yes, it did include a rather long climb. The ride consisted of a loop around a pretty big mountain, Beinn A’Ghlo (1129m) venturing deep into the hills. Only two miles of the ride was on tarmac with the rest consisting of fireroad, rocky tracks and singletrack. It featured in MBR magazine a couple of years ago and had been graded as ‘hard.’ Mastiles, perhaps hastily, called us together for the obligatory pre-ride photo with Fany showing off his new T-shirt. 10 minutes elapsed as we waited on Cliff Diver to firstly get changed, and secondly, fettle his bike. I looked around at the assembled steeds. All were full sussers apart from one -Team Hooded Top was riding a fully rigid hardtail which had seen better days. “Brave man,” I thought. He was also totally unprepared in that he had no food, water or trail tools with him. Luckily for him the rest of the team were fully kitted up. Even so, doing such an exposed loop with eleven riders greatly increased the chances of delays caused by technicals or injuries.
Eventually we set off and Hodgson nearly crashed after 200m misjudging a tight corner onto a bridge. As the FanyLion peleton rounded the same corner we met an oncoming car and braked hastily. The ride then got serious as we climbed on tarmac for two miles. White Sox displayed his elite team aspirations by setting the pace along with Hodgson and Boy Band, the Duke of Eastnor (see SSMM report). The rest of us were content to follow and we were soon off road enjoying a nice fireroad descent to a farm named Shinagag.
The trail was covered in sheep crap and there was no real point in trying to dodge it as it was everywhere. Normally we would have been afforded superb views of the mountains but the low cloud meant we saw nothing.
After a quick breather I pointed the Team up a sharp grassy incline, the first technical climb of the day.
Once it was climbed we rode along a boggy track before steeply dropping down to cross a burn. Arses over the saddle and brakes feathered everyone completed the section with ease. Since I’ve been a member of FanyLion all riders seem to have developed their skills and there isn’t much now which fazes the members. A quick push saw us pick up the trail again and we headed on.
After half a mile of crunching through burnt heather it became apparent that we weren’t on the right trail. Downhill Maniac spotted a terrace 50 yards above us which looked like the trail and we carried our bike upwards. I felt sorry for Rorie - his beast is not designed for carrying. After I received a bit of abuse for leading the team astray - my excuses were ignored - we rode onwards on lovely singletrack which hugged the hillside. It began to climb and the chattering stopped as everyone concentrated on maintaining traction and picking decent lines. Some riders managed to clean the climb, including myself, benefiting from a brand new rear tyre and local knowledge. We then descended on a rough double track which was rutted in places and contained some pretty sketchy corners. I took some big hits as did everyone else before the track leveled as we crossed a couple of burns. The next section proved to be very undulating. Characterised by short ups and downs it saw the fitter riders moving to the front. We stopped at Daldhu for lunch and amazingly the sun began to shine. Ra looked delighted and wasted no time in whipping his top off. Food was scoffed and juice drank and I was nearly sick when I tried to drink from a water bottle covered in sheep crap. Hodgson as usual began riding everyone else’s bikes and found Team Hooded Top’s bike to have little or no brakes. A quick fettle and they were nearly adequate, good job as he’d need them later on.
We were soon away again on the toughest section of the ride, a slog mostly uphill on fireroad towards Fealar Lodge some seven miles away. We began steadily enough but naturally the team began to spread out. Suddenly Team Hooded Top shot off, his rigid bike being perfectly suited to the smooth fireroad. After a few minutes he was at least 500m ahead which seemed to annoy Boy Band. With steam coming from his ears he increased the pace and began to reel him in. Mastiles followed, his recent fitness training paying dividends, leaving White Sox and myself to spin along the track. After a couple of miles we passed Hooded Top who was looking pretty knackered as his solo break had proved unsuccessful. I pulled away from White Sox and overtook Mastiles and waited with Boy Band at the halfway point for the rest to catch up. We were quickly underway again and then descended rapidly for a mile or so touching 40mph at times. Hooded Top punctured and fortunately for him Cliff Diver was on hand to replace his tube as he was carrying no spares. The heavens opened briefly so we began pedaling again and reached Fealar Lodge, painted pink for some gay reason.
The next section was probably the best of the ride. Initially we followed boggy singletrack with a fair number of stiles to negotiate. After congregating at one we looked back to see a wheel pointing upright - Shorts in Winter had misjudged a small hollow and went arse over tit. On every ride I’ve been on he’s managed to dive into a muddy puddle. If only he’d been at SSMM! The trail improved while the drop to the left became steeper. Eyes were focused on the track which also began to steepen. It became very narrow in parts and I experienced difficulty keeping both wheels on the surface which did not bode well for tomorrow’s north shore antics.
A couple of steep switchbacks led us down to the River Tilt which we paddled across. Everyone negotiated them with ease and the tranquil setting was ruined by the screeching of wet disc brakes. The singletrack continued before we crossed a lovely bridge beside The Falls of Tarf and picked up some fireroad.
I assured the team that we had 10-12 miles to go and that it was nice and easy as it followed the River Tilt back to Blair Atholl. It proved to be anything but, as we pedalled directly into a strong headwind.
Once again we became strung out and stopped a couple of times before arriving back at the cars. Considering the effort put in to ride down the glen it was hardly believable that we had dropped nearly 300 metres from the waterfall. 35 pretty tough miles were under our belts and we re-fuelled by chucking all manner of fatty treats down out throats. White Sox polished off his donuts while I scoffed a chocolate coated flapjack. Lovely. Mastiles began speaking to an elderly gent explaining how Team FanyLion had evolved. The conversation seemed quite involved and I half expected Mastiles to sign him up and give him a T-shirt.
The next stage was to get to the Glentress Hotel in Peebles in order to shower, eat steak and drink beer. Leaving the car park at a quarter to six should have allowed us plenty of time to get to the hotel for about half seven. Or maybe not. Some riders left the car park promising to meet up at a BP garage. I didn’t see a BP garage in Blair Atholl so pulled over at the local one along with Mastiles, White Sox and Shorts in Winter. Hodgson and Rorie quickly sped past as did Ra and Boy Band so we set off to the A9 and south towards Peebles. There was no sign of the others on the A9 so we pulled over and phoned Hodgson who was waiting at the BP garage in Pitlochry. After calling us faggots we waited for him before it became apparent that he was actually ahead of us. We set off again and met up at another lay-by. Ra and Boy Band drove past but as they knew the route we let them continue. We were now missing Mastiles and Downhill Maniac so waited for them to catch up. The half seven arrival time was now looking very optimistic and it was nearly all too much for White Sox. Used to military organisation and discipline he looked on despairingly as Team Fanylion attempted to re-organise the convoy.
Eventually we were underway again and headed onto the motorway south of Perth, which turned out to be shut. With no sign of a diversion we had to drive onto the A90 towards Dundee. After a few miles I began to panic and pulled over. Slowing down to negotiate the roads around Edinburgh we quickly increased the speed as we hit the city bypass. Shorts in Winter attempted a couple of cheeky Montoya-esque moves on me, clearly unamused by me only driving at 95mph. Exiting the motorways we drove the last 20 miles to Peebles at similar speeds, aided by the empty road.
Arriving at the Hotel at 8pm we got out of the cars and exchanged nervous looks about the insane journey we had just driven. Mastiles, in his new found role as mother of the team, ticked us off and vowed to never drive like that again. Hodgson was a nervous wreck, relating how he missed a head-on collision by inches after rounding a bend believing he was still on dual carriageway. White Sox commented that it was a good job I didn’t still have my Orion as I’d still be in Perth! Ra and Boy Band had got onto the motorway before the junction closed, had already showered and were making full use of the Bar. Bastards.
A quick shower saw us at the Bar where we all ordered steak and chips, FanyLion’s staple meal. The exception was Team Hooded Top who received plenty of strange looks by ordering Pasta (he’s a veggie for God’s sake). After the meal we had a few pints and talked about the usual subjects; bikes, women and hamsters. Hodgson asked me why I sounded like such a retard on the phone. Secretly insulted I vowed to myself to batter him up all the climbs at Glentress the next day. Rorie seemed keen to join the team so various team names were considered. Unable to think of one at the time he has since become known as Team Eco Panzer, after his love of all things environmental and his German tank of a bike. Too tired to go out in Peebles we retired to bed praying our legs would not be too heavy the following day.
Arriving at breakfast the next day we were greeted by a sunny sky and a host of screaming kids. Breakfast was scoffed and we were at Glentress by 10am. Unfortunately we were one rider down, the previous day had taken its toll on Hooded Top. To be honest he did brilliantly to ride the previous day on his rigid machine, managing to keep up with the rest of us on our fancy full sussers. RsPkT. I managed to delay things by discovering a tear in my front tyre. Not wanting to risk it splitting halfway around the black route I needed a replacement. Luckily there is a bike shop at Glentress where I bought a new one and quickly fitted it. We had decided to do the black run first, an 18 mile route which includes plenty of climbs and some excellent descents. Teams White Sox, Monster Munch and Eco Panzer were Glentress virgins and had been assured about the greatness of the route. Setting off we began the route by climbing on singletrack before joining fire-road towards the higher car parks. Hodgson, Monster Munch and White Sox blasted off leaving the rest to catch up. We all met up and were passed by a couple of guys pushing looking for the north shore area. Pushing beefy bikes and wearing full face helmets they were far to rad to even consider pedalling. Once they were out of earshot we muttered insults and revelled in our position as true mountain bikers having pedalled up the hill. Feeling morally superior we set off again and encountered some rocky, undulating singletrack which served to sharpen the mind and senses. After briefly hitting fireroad again we picked up some more rocky singletrack. Tending to descend more than the first section it included a few drop offs one of which I mis-judged and scraped my chainrings on. A nice chute led into a tricky right hander and before long we were climbing again on fireroad.
Myself, White Sox, Boy Band, Ra and Downhill Maniac continued along the track before beginning the long Tower ride and Kipps singletrack climb, which ascends 210m in total. Engaging the granny ring I lead the way being pursued by Boy Band and White Sox. I put down the pace and after a while I’m only aware of one rider behind. I don’t need to look round to know its Boy Band. Reaching an exposed section of trail I let him pass and try and keep up. He opens up a 20-yard gap but as the climb continues I manage to close the gap, perhaps due to him experiencing drivetrain problems and we reach the viewpoint. White Sox quickly arrives as does everyone else apart from Rorie who seems to have missed a turning somewhere. Fortunately he picks up the trail and joins us for a snack and some photos. Much flatulence is emitted, caused no doubt by the combination of the long climb and a full cooked breakfast. My farts were particularly violent and Boy Band’s tight lycra shorts contributed to some very bizarre sounding ones. We then begin the first descent of the day flinging our bikes around berms and over small jumps. Its great fun and leaves us hungry for more. The section is over all to quickly and soon we are ascending again to Dunslair Heights, the high point of the black route. We carry on and I lead the way onto the boundary trail which drops 190m. After a while I sense a noise and a few swearwords. Later it transpires that it was caused by White Sox almost hitting a tree. After a while I’m aware of a few riders a bit too close behind so I let through White Sox, Monster Munch, Hodgson and Downhill Maniac who is living up to his team name. I quickly pass Downhill Maniac who is having chain problems and Hodgson who, as usual, punctures. White Sox and Monster Munch are about 15 yards ahead of me but I can’t close the gap despite my new front tyre, a Panaracer Cinder, performing brilliantly. White Sox in particular is riding like a man possessed - his time spent downhill skiing in his youth clearly paying dividends. He manages to hold off Monster Munch until he punctures, no mean feat considering Monster Munch’s past experience of guiding on Chamonix’s brutal trails. Puncture repaired, the Team regroup and wait for Cliff Diver who has punctured higher up.
A bit of fire road sees us reach the next singletrack downhill, Horseburgh Hope. White Sox unfortunately punctures again as do Hodgson and Cliff Diver. Two punctures each, no luck lads! The FanyLion peleton blast past before beginning to climb Katie’s Well towards the north shore section, Ewok village. We spend a while on the north shore and most of us fail on the usual tricky part which requires a quick flick of the back wheel. Downhill Maniac shows us how it’s done though as he smoothly cleans the whole section and safely negotiates the seesaw. Showing off, he does it again. And again. Git. Northshore Maniac anyone? One attempt sees him dive off the seesaw in spectacular style, living up to his team name. Pressing on we complete the rest of the ride, taking in big berms, drop offs and rocky chutes with the odd stiff climb. Shorts in Winter crashes as is customary and lies poleaxed with a dead leg. Naturally we all laugh. The ride is over all to quickly and before long we are back at the Hub refueling and lounging in the warm sun.
Despite plans to ride the blue and red routes and possibly the new hardcore XC course at Innerleithen, time and weary legs dictate that we go our separate ways. We’ll be back though, the weekend can be ticked off as another highly successful FanyLion raid! See you in the Yorkshire Dales and Grizedale Forest in August.
Team Shortbread.
Riders present
Team Shortbread
Team Cliff Diver
Team Ra
Team Eco Panzer
Team Boy Band
Team Downhill Maniac
Team Hodgson
Team Mastiles
Team Shorts in Winter
Team White Sox
Team Monster Munch
Special Guest Appearance:
Team Hooded Top & Jeans
Enjoyment level
Haggistastic*