Bikepacking Scotland

Episode II

The Midge Strikes Back

 

To seek adventure, is to live.
Scotland beckoned us back with the lust for mountains, torrential rain, persistent midges and haggis.

Our first adventure was incredible. Handed our legs over and over. We swam in lochs. Drank Highland ale. It was cathartic. That same feeling is what we sought.
Equipped with more experience, better gear and equally unreliable bikes, we boarded a train north. 
North to Glasgow. Here our adventure begins. 

Day 1 - Trials and Tribulations

The beauty in remembering as we rolled along familiar roads, we left Glasgow, heading towards Loch Achray. 

It was a typical warm Scottish welcome, wet, steep, sheep and the endless views of the wilderness we'd been seeking.

We left signal, civilisation and our troubles behind. Spending our first bivy night on the edge of a forested lake. Mountains towering over behind us. 

The first night was nice, a little damp, but we survived. First nights are always the hardest.

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Day 2 - Like hobbits through middle earth... Riding bikes

We rode on into the fresh light of morning. Clouds kissing the tops of the landscape. We rode along and just felt the ride. Taking in our surroundings. We talked about life and we talked about cameras and we talked about bikes.

We were on our way to Malaig. We cycled through Fort William. Recounting our summit whilst skirting Ben Nevis. Stopped for McDonalds, at the same stop that had saved us on our first adventure.

We'd made it to the West Coast. Looking to camp, we stopped at a tunnel. Passing underneath the road, for livestock to roam between fields. The perfect place to rest. It was tough climb at the end of a long day. We sat down to eat and realised we'd only packed one midge hood.

 
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Day 3 - What a wigwam to end the day...!

Down hill to Malaig, we caught the ferry to Armadale. Taking the reverse roads from our first trip. This was the day that took it's tole. The glass spokes lasted longer than we'd expected. The kindness of strangers persisted he had the right tool to help. He didn't.

Riding without a rear brake isn't too bad, if not ideal. Iron Bru, chips and haggis fuelled our ride. It was tough. There was elevation. There was descents that didn't last long enough. There was credit card fraud. There were mechanicals.  But we prevailed. Riding and riding for the shear pleasure of saying we did. 

Our reward for staying positive, a WigWam campsite and our first shower. It was what we needed. Laughing at our day over dinner.

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Day 4 - It's called cholesterol, Scottish people eat it

This was the day that Scotland showed us it's dark side. We'd fought through audacity. We'd climbed over mountain. We'd been bitten and bumped. We'd had a blast. Then the storm came in. Projections said that it was going to last for the coming week. It would wash out the back end of the trip. This called for a pint. A second pint. A tactical decision to make the best of our time off, we hopped a bus to the train station. Home.

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The Dartmoor Way - BikePacking