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.
Highlands
May 23, 2009, Scotland
Fanylion weekend 23/24/25 May 2009
The Scottish Weekender
Riders: Love Rant, Shortbread, Quad, Bear + Guest Rider Gav (Sat/Sun only)
Trail master: Shortbread
Scribe: Love Rant
Day 1:
Bosh! Epic weekender alert! Blast off from Carlisle for late rendevous chez Shortbread in Dunfermline on Friday night. An uneventful drive was blessed by coincidence as Bear and Quad, on route from Mongleton and Oop North, manage to spot me on the motorway (Bear’s mysterious animal senses in full effect) and catch up in order to convoy in style into Dunfermline for a late supper of pizza (courtesy of Mrs Shortbread), beer and whisky. Quad looks like death, suffering after a week having a cold. Undeterred he’s come to batter the virus into submission on a kill or cure Highland mission. RspKt.
Saturday dawns grey and gloomy and after the mandatory porridge fest the cars are packed and we hit the road headed for Braemer and a date with some serious mountains. We take longer than anticipated due to Bear’s new car, so new that he’s having to “break it in”, like a particularly frisky filly. Unfortunately this means he won’t go above 60mph. Team Driving Miss Daisy. Points docked.
We eventually arrive at the car park a couple of miles north of Braemar and meet up with Gav, a mate of Shortbread’s from back on the ranch. Faff entails as bikes are built, clothes are changed and arse lube is liberally applied. Shortbread had an epic 60km pain-a-thon in mind but in a grim faced huddle, he and local Gav decided that a more modest route was the order of the day given the ominous black clouds and stiff wind. I breathe a sigh of relief; forgetting that “modest” is only relative when Dan has the map out and is on home ground.
We set off up the road into the wind. Within half a km Bear is off and faffing with his saddle, complaining that it’s “right up his arse”. Whatever. Finally fixed we head off. We improvise a detour through some woods after spotting some sweet singletrack and enjoy a rooty, needley blast down into Braemar. Already it’s good and we just made that bit up. Heading up towards Glen Shee we turn left onto a landrover track taking us up Glen Callater. It’s a gentle introduction apart from the strong headwind coming down the glen, despite the low cloud it’s clear we’re in BIG country, that, and general new trail nervousness, make me a little apprehensive. Our first challenge emerges in the form of a river crossing. We size it up and Shortbread makes a break for glory only to come up short. Wet feet ahoy. Gav has a go and almost makes it, but also ends up with wet feet. We wade across; Bear mincing with socks and shoes off; a completely futile gesture given what was to come.
As we wring out our socks Quad squeaks with horror at the discovery of a used jonny at the side of the track. It has to be one of the most remote spots for a hump in the UK, our anonymous shaggers have shown a real dedication to al fresco sex. We speculate on what Bear Grylls would do in this situation and conclude he would suck it dry for the protein. Although maybe not now he’s Chief Scout.
From here we start on the first real climb of the day. It doesn’t look much and sticks to the landrover tracks but pretty soon I’m in granny ring and watching Quad, Shortbread and Gav march off into the distance. I look back to see Bear rapidly falling of the pace and I’m cheered that I’m not last. Seeing someone else suffer always makes you feel better. The rain starts at this point and the jackets come out. They won’t really go away again today. We climb for about half an hour and eventually summit on a broad ridge looking down into another valley, heading back in the direction of the Glen Shee road. We wait for Bear who arrives grim faced; I’m waiting for the first comment about his mojo…
Now the fun starts with landrover track giving way to rocky, peaty, heathery singletrack. We head down getting our shred on, only stopping to drop our saddles. We regroup as the track disappears and we cast around looking for it. The map comes out and with its help we spot the path on the other side of the valley. We drop, cross the stream and climb up to meet it. Just before we head off we spot a big herd of red deer high on the hill above us, it’s an impressive sight but they are clearly spooked by the Bear. He’s barely interested though, searching in vain for his lost mojo.
We head down again, fantastic narrow singletrack with a long steep drop into the stream below only inches to our right. It’s sketchy and slippy in places, with a mix of mud, grass, rocks and heather. With my hands in pain from serious arm pump we’re finally spat out by the roadside. Big grins all round. We wait for Bear who drifts in a few minutes back. “Brilliant, wasn’t it!?” we ask. “No” says Bear. Jesus wept.
With the wind now behind us we head back down the road towards Braemar at a fast clip. I’m a little worried as I’d spotted the track we were heading for on the way out, a brutal looking landrover track heading to the top of the 859m Morrone. It’s a 550m climb in about 3km. Fair to say I’m intimidated. It’s granny ring from the off, the wind hasn’t let up and within the first 5 minutes the rain is back, heavier and more permanent looking. The climb ramps up through a series of big switchbacks, the wind switches between friend and foe. Quad and Shortbread set the pace, with me and Gav following on and Bear bringing up the rear. Pretty soon we’re in death march territory and it’s every man for himself. The cloud is down and the wind is driving the rain into every orifice. It’s officially character building. Gav falters and without a second glance I pull away. This is no place for weakness.
I press on, the climb seems like it’s never going to end but a gust of wind clears the cloud and I spot the summit, closer than I’d thought. I crawl up the final steep pitch and find Quad and ‘Bread huddled behind a locked mountain rescue hut sheltering from the rain and wind. I’m about 5 minutes back; Gav comes in another 5 minutes behind. We all huddle waiting for Bear. You can’t see more than 50 yards and it’s freezing and blowing like stink. We dig out extra layers, hats and anything else we have to wear. Quad’s starting to shiver; it’s a great cure for a cold. We discuss the potential for a group hug, with Quad in the middle like a baby penguin.
10 minutes pass, 15, where’s Bear? 25, where’s Bear? 30, where the f**k is Bear? We look back down the track but we can’t see him. Has he sacked it off and headed back down? Had a heart attack? Gone off piste and missed the trail? Given past experience we guess the former but we can’t be sure. We head back down the trail to a point where we can see all of the trail below just to make sure. We’ll be in for a severe bollocking off Mountain Rescue if he’s in a ditch and we’ve just pissed off down the hill without him.
We can’t see him and given the location of his last known sighting we conclude he’s spat the dummy and gone back. Disciplinary pending.
We grind back to the summit. The cloud clears and shows trail below. Awesome. Gav leads the way, smashing through the wide rock garden, it’s puncture territory and I’m trying to be careful. Soon it gets narrower and steeper. I’m getting battered but it’s great, arms are aching and my thighs are on fire. We hit a tech section and Gav’s bottle smashes, Quad and I crash through with more luck than judgement. Gav mutters something about needing his flat pedals for this stuff. Yeah yeah yeah whatever, man up or ship out punk.
We can see Braemar below and a final blast through a caravan site pops us out on the main street. We spot a café and duck inside for a much needed toastie and cuppa.
Dan has a plan for an extra loop but we decide we need to head back to the car park and check that Bear has made it back alive. He has, but only just. He’s “ruined” he says and lies slumped in his car like a whipped cur.
We leave Bear to his shame and head off for a final 10km loop around the estate we’ve parked in. We’re all pretty goosed. It’s a really nice loop, nothing tech but a nice end to the day. 50km all in and I’m done. Cremate me now.
We drive off to our cracking bunkhouse in Ballater. We hit the town for pints and steak pie and spend the evening supping Trade Winds and single malt. I’m zoning out, almost asleep in the pub.
Day 2:
We wake and you could cut the guffage with a knife. Nothing changes. More porridge to start the day; I’m almost gagging but I force it down, I’m guessing I’ll need the fuel.
The weather looks great and we’re headed for Loch Muick in the shadow of Prince Charles’ favourite mountain, Lochnagar. The car park’s busy but Dan assures us the ramblers will be heading in a different direction.
Dan leads us off towards the loch. There’s another big herd of deer grazing by the shore. As they scent the Bear the alarm cry goes up and they start stampeding away from us. It’s a hell of a sight. But too soon we cut left and the track heads upwards. We take our now familiar positions for another long slog up a mountain. About halfway Quad gives the cry “jeyboy coming through” and a lycra clad whippet skips past us like we’re stood still. It’s testament to yesterday’s ride and the boy’s impressive pace that no Lion even thinks about giving chase. Hats off.
We reach the top. Eventually Bear appears. “There’s something wrong with me” he says. No shit.
The scenery is breathtaking, massive views everywhere. I’m genuinely “stoked”. Ahead of us we have 400m vertical descent into Glen Clova. Gav leads off. It starts with a series of steep grass switchbacks; feet are out round the corners as we get some speedway styling going on. The track steepens some more, narrows and gets rocky. Techtastic. I’m having to rest. Dan has taken the lead on his new Titus, it’s obviously working for him. Eventually we hit the tree line and things get loamy. It’s brilliant. We regroup at a stream crossing. Quad informs me that I “take some fookin mental lines”. I’m quite chuffed with this. Although by mental he could just mean crap. Bear appears. “Liked the last bit in the trees” he says. Is that the faintest hint of his long lost mojo returning?
We hit the valley floor and head off up to the top of Glen Clova. The sun’s out and I don’t think there’s anywhere I’d rather be. It’s stunning. We stop for malt loaf and to soak up some rays. The trail starts to steepen and it’s getting seriously rocky, turning into a proper tech climb. Amazingly Bear’s mojo returns with a vengeance; and he attacks with some élan. He leads the pack, menacing the tech sections with a relish not previously seen. There’s no sight finer than the Bear in full cry. With his new found positivity he reflects on his performance prior to this point, and, in his own words, admits to having been behaving like “a mincing, slack-jawed faggot.” Know thyself. RspKt.
We hit some trees and steep turns to hike a bike. We’re walking up beside a burn, through Scots pine, Bilberries underfoot. The nature lover in me is almost creaming his pants. We clear the tree line and keep hiking, hitting the ridge after about 25 minutes graft. Dan recommends the steep straight singletrack back to the lochside. He warns there’s “a couple of water bars”. Right. Make that 1 every 20 metres for about 1km. I puncture halfway down and Bear stops to lend a hand. We both agree it couldn’t have happened in a nicer place. Bear is seriously rocking off the view. I get it fixed and crash on down, it’s an awkward descent; lots of over the bars potential.
At the lochside we elect to head round the loch the long way for a warm down spin. On the way we spot more sweet looking track in a wee stand of trees. We dive in for an explore and after a bit of scran we “session” a nippy wee section then buzz back to the loch. We are just too rad sometimes.
Final act of the day is to cross a small bridge. There are 5 steep steps to get down on the far side. Bear, mojo now fully restored glides over like Wade Simmons with bandy legs. Shortbread follows suit but somehow manages to overcook it, lifts his front wheel too high and loops over backwards. What a goon. We all laugh and point. He looks confused and is clutching a bloodied elbow. “Don’t tell Jennie” he says “she’ll shout at me.” Christ, it’s a badge of honour man! Get home and parade it around the house and demand her awe and devotion!
Back to Ballater we have a café stop in a place where smiles cost extra and you get milk for your coffee only once it’s gone cold. We won’t be back.
We say goodbye to Gav who’s heading home. He’s acquitted himself well, coped with the weirdness and added a little of his own. One to watch.
The drive to Dunfermline takes forever but we make it, shower and head of for a curry with Jennie along for the ride. It’s a good night with some quality chat. We form the SRU (Starkey Relationship Unit), a small team dedicated to getting Sheldon a bird. Our mission statement is “Any hole’s a goal.” We finish the meal still working on key objectives and looking for some quick wins.
Day 3:
More porridge.
We’re staying local to Dunfermline today, heading to Blairadam forest for a blast around Dan’s local stomping ground. It’s classic woodland XC; tight, rooty, soft and occasionally techy. It’s a complete contrast to the previous 2 days but also great. There are trails everywhere and I’m pretty jealous he has this on his door step.
It’s all going swimmingly until I have a stick to mech interface situation. My mech goes up and around the cassette and the mechcage goes through the spokes. It’s toast. The mech looks like a Salvador Dali painting. Shit. There’s no remedy, mech off, chain off. I’m running and freewheeling from here on in. We carry on with the boys valiantly push/pulling me up some of the climbs. Much appreciated lads. It’s still great fun and we get back to the cars after about 3 hours messing about in the woods.
It’s midday and we pack up and say our farewells to Quad and Bear who are hitting the road. I nip back to Dan’s for a shower before heading to Glasgow to pick up the dogs who’ve been dumped at my brother’s.
All in all it’s been a spot on weekend and really turned me on to the potential for rides in the Highlands. It’s a long way from anywhere else but it’s worth it. It’s not really like anything else in the UK and I heartily recommend it. Fan-bloody-tastic.
Love Rant out.
Riders present
Riders: Love Rant, Shortbread, Quad, Bear + Guest Rider Gav (Sat/Sun only)
Enjoyment level
Epic!