The Black Horse Cycle Club

Endomondo Cycling Workout

2013-08-26T20:30:00.001+01:00

Not dead, just restin'

2011-12-24T16:05:00.002+00:00

Well, believe it or not, we have been going out and about on the bikes in the last few months since the last post. Some of us have been going out a bit more than others though.
Darker nights, wetter weather, generally not so good for taking pictures and writing about it.
However, there's been quite a few pictures hanging around on the phone camera, so here's a few of them just to prove the bikes have been used.


19th October 2011 - The old "Port Line" near Gatehouse Station, SW Scotland

6th November 2011 - Tyne Pedestrian Tunnel

6th November 2011 - Bowes Railway Path, Leam Lane

20th November 2011 - Hadrian's Cycleway - Blaney Row

That last one's rather artistic, isn't it... taken mid afternoon in a patch of dense fog by the river. Cold for cycling though.
And to prove that we even go out on the shortest day of the year, here's another couple.

21st December 2011 - Bowes Railway Path - A photo of the mist in the valley over Gateshead


21st December 2011 - Here's Ian creeping up the hill. Very wet and muddy, very slow.

Might get out and about again before the end of the year, weather depending.

As an update on the Neoguard, it's been very very good. Really cut down on the mud and splashes hitting you in the face. An excellent investment, well worth buying.

Review: Neoguard Front Mudguard.

2011-08-18T18:00:00.001+01:00

As the summer sun starts to set just that bit earlier every night, and the rain starts to become more frequent, those tracks are starting to get a bit wet and muddy. If you're like me, then you'll be sick of racing through a muddy puddle and ending up covered with god knows what from the plume of spray rising from the front wheel.
I'll confess to buying a front mudguard, but being too embarrassed to put it on the bike, which is something considering how embarrassing my bike looks anyway.
It's nothing to do with finding them an absolute sod to fit, nothing to do with that at all.
Actually, a good reason is having to take off a claggy front mudguard just to get at the brakes for maintainance, or load it into the car. Big front mudguards are just a nuisance.

Anyway, step forward the Neoguard from Rapid Racer Products. The internet had thrown up this one, some glowing testimonials for it. A neoprene mudguard that attaches to the front forks, and it's tiny.
So, time for a spot of shopping before the rains came.
This one I'm reviewing was bought from Wiggle. They do 2 versions, the Standard or the slightly dearer Limited Edition, which I had to get as it just looked a bit cooler, me being a natural when it comes to cool.

Wiggle - Neoguard Standard
Wiggle - Neoguard Limited Editon

You can click on the links to have a look. I paid a very reasonable £13.29 for the Limited Edition, and a couple of days later a small jiffy bag turns up.

Inside a nicely packaged Neoguard, with the fitting instructions on the back. Very simple, easy to follow.

Neatly packaged, the instructions are printed on the back

Front and back views. You can see the velco straps used to attach it to the bike.

It 's not a glove, honest.
Anyway, time to fit it to the bike. I'd picked the XS, based on the sizing guide on the website. Quite easy to follow which one to order, though err on the side of small, as you'll want it stretched quite tight for best results.

Really very easy to fit, much easier than other mudguards I've tried.
Much, much easier.

Here it's fitted to the front forks of my Trek

Just tie the top velcro straps around the crown of the front forks, and loop the straps back through the eyelets and attach the velcro to hold it firm.
Then wrap the 3 bottom velcro straps around the fork brace at the bottom just above the wheel and thread them back through the eyelets. This is a little fiddly with the wheel on, but not too difficult.
Best to get it nice and taut, and make sure the mudguard or straps aren't catching on the wheel.

Now, I'm a bit rubbish adding things to the bike, and I managed it in less than 5 minutes, first time as well, so it must be easy.
And that was it. Off out for a test.

The design is quite clever. Water, spray and mud comes flying off your rotating front wheel as usual, but instead of launching into the air at head height, it gets stopped on the back of the Neoguard.
If it gets properly clagged up, as you go over a bump and the forks compress, the Neoguard crumples a bit and deforms, and the mud drops off, so it's self cleaning up to a point.

Anyway, numerous muddy puddles were taken at speed for testing purposes, something I usually avoid doing, and it performed brilliantly. Not a drop of mud or water hit me in the face all ride.


Here's one I made earlier.

Okay, so the photo's a bit blurred. It was rather late and I'd been hammering back along the road from the Black Horse, so the hands weren't too steady to take pictures in the dark.
Anyway, you get the idea. Mud trapped on the back of the Neoguard.
All the big claggy bits had already dropped off when going over bumps.

So, early days yet, I'll update the review as the winter comes on and the mud gets thicker, as some of that mud may find it's way down to the fork seals a bit easier than before, but for now, this is a definite thumbs up. Cheap and effective, wish I'd got one years ago. I shall be recommending these to the rest of the club slackers.
5 out of 5 - (It can have a special graphic)

Another Small Presentation

2011-08-17T23:42:00.000+01:00

A little birdie tells me that Ian is the proud recipient of a prestigious 2011 Crash award.
A gallant effort into a hedge on a jaunt up to Parkhead station a couple of weeks ago.

He's been keeping that one quiet he has.

A Small Presentation

2011-07-29T22:31:00.000+01:00

While out on Monday for a little jaunt up to Tanfield, Jim came a cropper preparing to cross the roundabout by the Angel.
Always said those cleats were a bad idea.
Wasn't so much a crash, as a topple, and no harm done.

I hadn't the heart to take pictures though.

Hownsgill Sprint Challenge

2011-07-17T11:11:00.004+01:00

This is one for "Competitive Ian" really, but anyone can feel free to give it a go.

Basically, it's as fast as you can from the Swalwell Visitor Centre at the start of the Derwent Walk, to the Hownsgill Tea Rooms, near the Hownsgill Viaduct past Consett.
That's more or less exactly 12 miles following the Derwent Walk.
This is a sprint for mountain bikes, none of those fancy racers with the slick tyres.
And of course, there's marvellous food to be had at the end, just to spur you on.

So, here's the route.


The route, all 12 miles of it, all uphill.

So, to start you off, here's photo evidence of my time.


That's 1hr 10mins 42s in case you can't see.

So, 1hr 10mins 42s to beat. Shouldn't be too tricky.
If you post your times in the comments, I can always make a leaderboard, but there has to be some photographic evidence.

A Monday Night Ride - Tanfield - 11th July 2011

2011-07-12T19:54:00.072+01:00

Approx 14.5 miles

Tentative plans had been made for an evening ride, and despite heavy rain in the afternoon, warm summer sun meant it was fairly dry come 7.30pm.
Ian cried off with the "man-flu", so Jim and I set off from the Horse towards the Bowes Railway path at Birtley, picking up Tim on the way.

The rain earlier meant it was a little heavier under the wheels, a few puddles, but nothing too bad, most of it had dried up.

We sauntered up the steep section to Tanfield, at least the other two did, I was powered by a freshly cleaned and oiled chain, and pork pies and profiteroles (not at the same time), and was in a good hill-climbing mood.

Just for a change, at Tanfield, we doubled back and headed towards the engine sheds, but on the narrow dirt track that runs on the west of the railway at Tanfield.

A bike, and some plants, and a building.

There's quite a view when you get to the vantage point.

Birds. Lots of them.

Those black dots in the picture are Jackdaws, at least that's what our friendly Bill Oddie / Dr Doolittle / Jim reckoned anyway. It was like a Hitchcock film. Trying to find a roost for the night probably. Hundreds of them, kept coming in from Stanley. I've cycled through Stanley on an evening, I can see why they were leaving.


"Ladies.... please form a queue"

The bomb goes off over Consett

Well, as the sun was beginning to set, time to head back, 'cos as usual, Jim didn't have any lights.
"I'll ride on the pavement" he says.

A railway picture for Jim.

So, that was it. We hurtled back down the way we'd come, always a fun descent, slogged up the other side of the valley and back to the pub, where I left Jim getting a pint.
"Just stopping for one".
A likely tale.

Make your own caption up. I've got no idea.

This picture was lurking on the camera, so I'll let you post a caption for it in the comments.
The winner gets my undying gratitude for being the first to post a comment. Ever. Pah.

Return Of The Bionic Man - Tanfield Loop - Monday 4th July 2011

2011-07-08T22:53:00.007+01:00

Well, we do go out quite a lot and just don't get around to blogging about it. Even managed to get Ian out with us for this ride, breaking him in gently with his new knee, although he's already racking up 40+ miles a day. A medical marvel.
As a treat, and to show off my technical prowess, I've embedded the route in a little Google Maps plugin, which lets you see where we've been.

Let me know if it works for you in the comments.

Just so you can see everything on a bigger screen in Google Earth, you know with 3D hills and that, you can always download the route by clicking on the link below.

An Old One From The Archives

2011-06-28T00:18:00.001+01:00

Trawling through some old photos when I stumbled across this familiar face leaving the Black Horse at some point in the late 19th Century.

This original image is from the isee.gateshead.gov.uk website

Not so much a new post.

2011-06-27T00:00:00.002+01:00

I promised Jim I'd sort out a link to his new blog of train pictures.

So, if you look at the links bit to the side of this post, there's a whopping big link to his site.

Just click on the picture to go there.

Some nice photos already. Hope he updates it more than I update this blog.

I went a bit artistic and bunged in a new title picture for us as well. I'll probably change it again in a week or two though, as it's not that balanced. Dodgy source material.

Despite the lack of blog posts, I've been out on the bike quite a bit lately, which is more than can be said for certain members of the club.

No names though, eh Jim.
Oh, and Ian's been cycling quite a bit with his new knee, just a few weeks after getting it done. He's amazed his surgeon, but that's a different story altogether.

Fast blog - Derwent Walk - 1st May 2011

2011-05-01T19:59:00.002+01:00

Swalwell to Hownsgill Tea Rooms and back - Approx 24 miles

A sunny Sunday afternoon, and the only two members of the club who were physically able to get on a bike made plans, and the bikes were loaded into Jim's van and we headed off for the Derwent Walk and the cafe at Hownsgill.
Jim did his usual trick and missed a turnoff, so we went "the long way", but we got there eventually, and soon we were rattling along at a fair old pace, over the Nine Arches Viaduct

A Red Kite. Probably got it's eye on Jim.

It was a nice day, bank holiday weekend, so the track was quite busy. Lots of C2C riders coming the other way.

Lintz Green Station - Jim being cruel to Jelly Babies.

Usual water stop at Lintz Green Station. We parked under the bridge, as that sun was fierce.
At this stage, I removed the jacket as it was getting quite warm, even with a stiff breeze. The large rear pocket on a cycle jersey is a wonderous thing.

That slacker Ian isn't the only one who can do artsy photos.

We didn't really stop much on the way up to the Hownsgill Tea Rooms cafe, averaged 9.6mph which is quite good for uphill all the way.
Toasties were consumed, and we chatted with the owners for a while.
If gossiping was an olympic sport, Jim would have won the gold medal.


Lamb

Goat

And then it was time to head back. It was quite breezy up there which meant the jacket went back on.
Jim managed to lose his bike pump in the car park. Ironically, I'd seen it as we left, but as he appears to have dropped it on the way in, I ignored it as an old one that had been there for a while. Oops.

We kept to a fairly swift pace all the way back, fairly uneventful except for a moment of drama at the Nine Arches Viaduct.

4 young lads cycling across the width of the path up ahead, they saw us coming and move apart to let us through, then at the last moment one of them veered across the track.
I slammed on both brakes, evidently the front one a little quicker, as the back wheel went about a foot into the air according to Jim, with lots of noise and dust.
Inches away from a spectacular pile up.
And no, there's no photo. You'll just have to take my word for it.

Anyway, that was it. Back to the van and off home.
Again, Jim missed a turn-off and we went "the long way" back.
He's going to have to work on that.

Never Pay Attention To McDonald's Directions - 25th April 2011

2011-04-25T22:23:00.001+01:00

Newburn to Matfen and back - Approx 25 miles

Easter Bank Holiday Monday, and we'd decided in the pub the previous Saturday to go up to Maften for a change. There's a cafe there, and they do the best scones or something. I'm not one to pass up a cafe, so it was agreed.
Jim's a closet road biker, but he promised to bring the mountain bike so we'd go at the same speed.
"As long as it's quiet roads" I said.

Monday brought some dry weather, not quite the blazing inferno it had been all weekend, so that was good. The bikes were loaded up into the back of Jim's van, and we drove along to Newburn, to the car park near the Big Lamp pub.


Captain Mainwaring ready for duty.

Soon we were rattling along the Wylam Waggon Way. Jim was on his "racing slicks", touring tyres, a bit thinner and a bit smoother. Basically faster. Depressingly faster than my big knobblys actually.
They've resurfaced most of this over the last year, which while better than the dirt track it was before, the tarmac isn't the best quality. Bump, bump, bump. Maybe I need some more padding as well as slick tyres.

Wylam was reached fairly quickly, and we left the Waggon Way there, and headed through the village, and then up Holeyn Hall Rd.
"Up" being the right word. It's a bit of a climb. Young legs and a weight advantage were in my favour, but I don't like to get too far ahead of the old man, so I hung around for him. As things were to transpire, maybe I should have got a head start.
After a breather, Jim set off at a pace as it was bit flatter now, and crossed the bridge over the A69. It's a dual carriageway, it's the only way to cross it really. I was a bit slow off the mark, so when I got to the the roundabout at the top, no sign of Jim. I guessed a direction, went around a corner and no sign of him, so decided I'd taken the wrong route and went the other way.


Jim's up there somewhere. That hill up ahead looks steeper in real life.

I saw him vanishing off into the distance, just cresting a hill, so at least I was on the right road.
But you can't really pedal fast enough to catch a bike with fast tyres on.
I caught up with him eventually the other side of the Military Road, after he'd finally decided to stop, in fact he was facing towards me.
"Thought you'd had a puncture". Comedy genius.

Rape seed is evil. It stinks.

Well, we ambled along for a bit, or rather Jim ambled, and I pedalled along in much too high a gear, trying to keep up. Tough on the hills.
4 miles later and we arrived in Stamfordham, no stopping though. Jim was on a mission for scones. I was on a mission for more padding.

He did however stop a bit further up ahead when he spied a horse, and our resident Dr Doolittle couldn't resist. He'd seduced it with grass by the time I arrived.

Phwoaar.

It was a gentle slope uphill for another 3 miles or so that brought us into Matfen just after 3pm. And the promise of scones.
Promise that was to be sadly thrown into the cruel pit of despair.

*$#%! 3pm !!!!!

Bastards... missed it by minutes. We weren't the only ones. While we had a sit down a few people stopped by for scones.

Nice place for a Jelly Baby though

Jim's bike and those bloody tyres.

Well, I figured we'd head back the way we came, but no. Off we went out the other end of the village. Ian, our newly "bionic" cyclist chum had told Jim about this lovely route back, so I followed (again), and soon we came to the turn off.
But then Jim decided it wasn't the turn off and we carried on for another mile. Until we came to another road. The Military Road.
Oh well, I figured we'd be on it for a minute or so to the junction up ahead. Jim was already off at pace, so I tagged along. And then he just cycled past the junction and kept going.

We pulled in at the Robin Hood Inn, and I broke out the phone. GPS and Google Maps, very handy. Well, turn off's were ahead but the first was a bit dodgy for getting across the A69, so we carried on. Next one was at the top of Harlow Hill, a nasty steep little climb, but it would take us under the A69, so that was agreed on.
Jim had a lead on me, I was catching him on the hill though. I thought he'd wait at the top, but the traffic queued up behind seemed to distract him as he ignored the turn-off and careered off down the hill at breakneck pace.


Watching Jim ride off into the distance. No swearing. Deep breaths.

Not much choice but to ride on.
4 miles we did on the Military Road. On a Bank Holiday. Grrrrrr.
This riding lark is supposed to be good for my health you know.

Well, I eventually caught him up. He never saw the junction he was supposed to take. Maybe he needs some new specs for cycling, but we turned off at the next one (after consulting the gps and Google Maps again) and we ended up back at the roundabout where I'd taken a wrong turn earlier. Result.

We hurtled back down the hill to Wylam, and despite trailing in Jim's gravity and tyre assisted wake, I still got over 30mph. That was fun. Made up for the earlier slog.

And then back along the Waggon Way to Newburn and the van. Into a bloody headwind.
Despite all that, still came out with an average speed of 11.6mph.
That explains why my legs are killing me.

Maybe I'll pick the route next weekend.

As I have no kml storage, here's the route. GPS didn't start until Wylam, so add 3 miles on at start. Click for big.

A Quick One Before They Cut It Off - 8th April 2011

2011-04-19T20:41:00.001+01:00

Swalwell to Consett and back again along the Derwent Walk
(approximately 24 miles)

Greetings. Someone's still reading this blog? Blimey.
Well, due to getting a new phone which has a camera in it that takes picture bigger than a postage stamp, I thought it was time to dust the cobwebs off the blog and post again.
We also dusted the cobwebs off Jim, for his first ride of the year.
He's a "fair weather cyclist".

I had a rare day off, and Ian was counting down the days till some "surgeon" hacks away at his knee and replaces it with a Lego one. Sort of a last chance to have a pedal.

So, on a sunny Friday afternoon, it was off for a Magical Mystery Tour in Jim's van to the bottom of the Derwent Walk at Swalwell.

Soon rolling along at a steady pace.
For about half a mile.

I'd forgotten to turn the GPS on (for blogging purposes), and Jim needed to fiddle about.


A bar fly adjusting his bar ends.


Peter's And Lee - The Reunion

Not the fastest of starts then, but we managed at least another mile, before stopping at the Nine Arches Viaduct for Jim (Doctor Doolittle) to do a spot of birdwatching.

A Red Kite. In the distance. The far distance.


I call this composition "Two Chancers On a Viaduct"

Two rest stops in the first 15 mins wasn't the frantic pace I'd had in mind when we set off, so I put my foot on the gas a bit, and we started to get somewhere.

As it turns out, old man Jim was suprisingly speedy, what with having his racing slicks on, so we managed to make some decent progress. It is all uphill you know!

We had a quick rest at the old station at Lintz Green, where we gave out some directions to a cyclist from Darlington who wanted to get to Chopwell Woods. Not sure if we're the best ones to ask directions from, but there you go.

It was a pretty warm day in the sun, just nice for cycling, and a bit further on we had a sit down just past Ebchester to take on water, where a scene of horror unfolded.

Schwarzenegger let himself go after Terminator 2


He's an arty bastard is our resident wedding photographer


Jesus F***in' Christ!!!!

Some photos have to be covered up to protect the innocent out there. I have no idea what was going on here, the things you see when you get your camera back.

Perhaps driven on by the horrors just witnessed, we set off again, Ian at a particularly breakneck speed. By the time we got up to the old steel works at Consett, he was long gone in the distance.
I hung back for Jim on the hills, as he's getting on a bit now, and this was his first ride for six months. (He claims)


"I've fallen Vic, and I can't get up"

Not tired at all, just getting going in fact.

When we caught him up, and after Jim had stopped to have a natter to some bloke at an allotment, we eventually rolled up to Hownsgill Tea Rooms, which thankfully was open.

Pot of tea, toasties, some chips, and a plate sized wedge of Banoffee Gateaux and cream.

Is this the face of a man about to get his leg replaced?

He can look quite normal sometimes


Banoffee Gateaux and Cream - well, it was earlier.

The farm where the tea room is located was obviously in the middle of lambing season. And despite the fact they wouldn't stand still for 5 minutes, a photo was taken.

They'll have eaten it by now.

Well, they have to close sometime, so we had to get on the bikes again eventually.

At least it's downhill most of the way back, and we raced along.

Me and Ian had a little bit of a race the last 2 miles, full tilt. Talk about knackered. But it was Ian's last fling for a while. Mind, I wasn't going to let "Competative Ian" win. That wouldn't do, and it didn't matter if he broke something on the knee as they were bunging a new one in. Might as well get a last go out of it.

We was sweating buckets when we arrived back at the transport.

Jim arrived 5 mins later.

Sweaty chaps. Ian is still distorting the world around him.

The Winnaaaar!

So, a decent ride out for Ian's last hurrah. Who knows when the Bionic Man will get back out on the bike? I might have to post a blog or two just to keep the world informed.

I have a kml file of the route, but the internet is being evil and my hosting has died a bit since the last time I used it. I'll get around to it.

Not The Great Light Test - 24th January 2010

2010-01-24T18:40:00.006+00:00

Due to the rather poor weather for the last 2 months, it's been a bit quiet on the bike front in general. Either snow or work or laziness has meant virtually nothing cycling wise. Ian has been out and about during the week, but that's it.
So, after agreeing it all in the pub the night before, the rust was scraped off the bikes and they were loaded up into the car and off it was to the Derwent Walk. Nice and gentle to start with. I mean, it was November last time the wheels turned.
Ian hadn't rang Jim like he'd said he would, although with hindsight he'd have fallen off anyway, and Chris had his daughter's birthday party to attend so we can let them off.

Lots of ice in the car park wasn't a good sign, but it did clear once we were underway, just the occasional patch of slushy ice across the track, but nothing that couldn't be ridden around.

Rowlands Gill approaching, and Ian was working up a right sweat and finding it very hard work. I had told him his back was a bit flat, but I think he misheard and took it as an insult.

Anyway, he eventually decided to stop and bung some air into the back tyre, and it seemed much better after that.

Another few miles and it was time for a chocolate break, and off we went again, for about 10 yards before Ian states the obvious and says he's got a puncture. So we stop and I break out the rubbish cameraphone.

Ian hard at work sorting out his puncture. Actually, it was a double puncture, a couple of hawthorns being responsible.
A "new" tube was bunged in.

See. He's much happier now. I think he enjoys a getting covered in oil.

So, with a freshly pumped up tyre it was off again, along an increasingly ice covered track.
By the time we got to Ebchester Station, it was getting pretty bad. It wasn't just slush, it was that hard packed ice which had melted and frozen a few times. Glassy, and very very slippery.

Ian in a contemplative mood just past the Whinny Lane crossing beyond Ebchester

Well, it got to the point where we weren't going to make the cafe at Hownsgill before they shut at 4pm, and I wasn't going to risk it on that ice, especially coming back in the dark, no matter how good the new lights were.

He was trying to show me up for chickening out, but he was wobbling a lot.
No grip on the hills.

And so with that, we turned back and meandered back down the line towards Swalwell.
Once again, we stopped at Rowlands Gill for Ian to pump some more air into his back tyre. Not having much luck with that, but it lasted long enough to get back to the car before dark, and so the lights remained untested. We'll have a more indepth report next time out. Maybe.
Still, we'd done 18 miles, and it was a pretty mucky slog for quite a bit of it, so that counts for something.

National Cycle Route 7 - Gatehouse to The Black Horse

2009-12-14T20:32:00.000+00:00

Thursday 8th October 2009: Day 3
Little Salkeld to Gateshead - 70 miles approx
203 miles running total

"Well, after a reasonable night's kip, it was an early breakfast and out onto the road by 10am, which was quite impressive for us. All rather hilly to start with and then after only 2 miles, we find our way blocked by a dug up road and a spot of roadworks.
So we headed towards Gamblesby before rejoining the original road near Renwick. Knew I bought those Sustrans maps for a reason.
And then the climbing started.

We were up at about 1000ft at this point, and Mr McDonald was suffering.

Suffering with a smile though.

Luckily, the weather was decent, you could see for miles. And speaking of which, you can see the cafe on the top of Hartside over on the left of this picture, miles away. I'm not sure that helped really. It looked a long way, all of it uphill.

So while I breezed up the hills effortlessly*, Ian took a bit longer, though it did mean a few lovely photos of him trundling up another steep bit. And this was a steep bit.

* Ok, so perhaps there was a little effort involved.

On and on up towards Hartside summit, on a very twisty road, but it was a lot easier than the off-road option. And then a spot of rather uninspiring nosh in the cafe just after midday. The view was great though. Probably should have taken a picture. We did remember to pose by the sign as is customary, though Mr McDonald wanted to get going.

Look, here he is the happy little camper. I think he needed the toilet again.

And he's our dashing hero, looking dashing. It was bloody cold up there. Bit of a breeze you know.
So, despite the cold, there was a very nice downhill section to enjoy afterwards, Ian went racing off at about 90mph as usual, too fast for pictures, but we reached Garrigill in about 45 minutes.

This is the road out of Garrigill. Well, less of a road and more the side of a cliff. Look at my feet to get some idea of the angle. You could hardly stand. The next 250 yards were the steepest bit so far by a long way. We both got about about 75 yards, though of course I stopped so as not to embarrass Ian. We walked for a bit. Slowly.

Half an hour later, and we're ploughing on up another long stretch of hill. Flinty Fell it's called, though we were calling it something else. You can just make out Hartside Cafe on the horizon if you zoom in above his head.

Full of energy and raring to go. (Well, I had been waiting for him to catch up for about 10 minutes)

So, after what seemed like forever, we made it to the top, and after a quick break, it was off down the steep hill into Nenthead.
Ian as usual went tearing off at about 40mph, "see you at the bottom" and all that, and he was long out of sight when for some unknown reason, and with a very loud bang, my front tyre's inner tube burst.
Must have been doing about 25mph at the time, and things went very wobbly for a few yards, but luckily the tyre stayed on the rim and I managed to stop in the vertical position.
Not the easiest place to fix a puncture due to the severe incline, so I had to wheel the bike down the hill which wasn't half tough on the legs, so it took about 10 minutes to get down into the vilage. At which point I saw Ian, clearly in a hurry to see why I was taking so long. Or not.
Well, we changed the shredded inner tube with a new one, Ian went for a dump again, and we retired to the village shop for a cup of coffee and some food.

Puncture fixed. Still alive.

You can see the hill where the tyre had gone, just up on the horizon there by the telegraph poles.

Once the nerves had settled and the hands weren't shaking quite as much, it was getting on for 4pm, which meant the daylight wasn't going to last all the way home. In fact we'd probably only done about a third of the required miles for the day. Time to get moving.
Another very steep hill out of Nenthead on the road, and we made it with a certain degree of jubilation to the highest point on the route, at 2000ft

It's all downhill from here Ian*

*lies

Quite a view from up there. And into Northumberland too. That's like the next county along from home really, isn't it?

A nice view.

Not such a nice view. Can't tell if that's a grimace or a smile.

Now, that's a smile. Probably a Sound Of Music moment or something.

So on we pressed, grateful that we hadn't opted to spend the previous night at Allenheads like we'd originally planned. I mean, we still hadn't reached it and we'd been cycling for 6 hours that day already.
Can't say I was too keen on going fast on the downhill sections after the blowout at Nenthead, but Ian will tell you I don't go fast downhill anyway.
Allenheads was reached just before 5pm, toilet stops of course, and then after the steep climb out of the village we stopped at Currick summit around 5.20pm for a last photo before the daylight went.

I don't like the way he's winking in the background.

It's the border of County Durham you know...

Well, after that, there was a nice downhill stretch past the old mine workings, where Ian managed to fall off when he stopped and forgot to release his foot pedals. I missed that, which was a touch disappointing.
We got into Rookhope and decided to take the "easier" route along the road to Stanhope and then up to the Waskerly Way. Apart from adding about 4 miles to the route, it also added Crawleyside Bank as well. Bad idea.
We pushed it most of the way up, and it was totally dark by the time we reached the top. We'd not eaten enough really, and I don't have the reserves to dig into like Ian, so I was exhausted by the time we reached Parkhead Station around 7.15pm.
I've always liked the place, but it was especially wonderful this time.

The best toasties ever made were eaten, along with some carrot cake too, and together with a hot drink and a rest, we were ready to set off again about 8pm.
It was pitch dark on the moors, and bitingly cold too, with the thermometer on the bike computer showing 0°C, but we kept going. Ian had a much brighter light, so he was racing away like he does on the downhill bits, so I had to keep reigning him in as I couldn't see that far.
He grumbled a bit at my slow speed, but we made it down the old railway line to Birtley at 10.35pm without killing each other. By this time, we were both pretty numb with the cold, as we'd been freewheeling most of the previous 2 hours.

Well, the last bit from Birtley saw us get a bit of a second wind. Probably just to warm up. Don't think we've ever done it so quickly. Those toasties are clearly performance-enhancing.
The Black Horse was reached, and at 10.59pm, I banged on the window and scared a few of the locals. We'd done it!

See. We even got back in time to get served.

Here, I show Ian how many days he should take to cycle the route next time.

Stats for the 3 Day trip:
Total Mileage: 203.6 miles
Total Time Cycling: 21hrs 04mins 30secs
Dunk's Max Speed was 32.8mph - Ian's was considerably faster, but he's mad.
Average Speed of 9.6mph

And that's it. I think we'll have to do another one in 2010.

I'll leave you with this hideous image found on the camera.

Could have been a lot worse I suppose.

I'll post the Google Earth file sometime before the end of the year with the last day's route on.

More Route 7 in Google Earth

2009-11-22T14:19:00.002+00:00

Well, it's only taken a month. Some of us have to work now you know.
Anyway, you can look at the path of Day 2 of the epic Route 7 trip in Google Earth, with the location of the photos and some extra info snippets in there too.

View Day 2 of the route in Google Earth

National Cycle Route 7 in Google Earth

2009-10-27T20:34:00.003+00:00

Well, just a quick note to say that if you scroll down to the bottom of the post for Day 1, you'll find a link to see the route from Gatehouse to Gretna in Google Earth. It'll show you where the photos in the blog were taken too.
I'll let you know when Day 2 has a KML file available (probably not for a few days)

National Cycle Route 7 - Gatehouse to The Black Horse

2009-10-26T22:10:00.020+00:00

Wednesday 7th October 2009: Day 2
Gretna to Little Salkeld - 55 miles approx
133 miles running total

A cold and frosty morning greeted us when we managed to get out of the very comfy beds at Surrone House and downstairs for a nice cooked breakfast. I suspect the cold weather and the fact we only had about 55 miles to do today, mainly on the flat, meant we were a little later getting away than was ideal. About 10.30pm actually. But at least no waterproofs were needed.
Cycling along with Ian, you learn that he's not one for stopping, so apologies for the lack of photos at this early stage of the day (or in fact later on as well... ahem)

We pressed on and reached Longtown in about an hour, which of course meant finding the public toilets for Mr McDonald. I'd have taken a picture to set the scene, but well, you know, I suspect there are laws and all that.
We stopped at the Gretna Bakery on the main street and got some nice Steak and Onion pies for later and then set off again.
First snag of the day as we missed a route 7 sign a few miles up the road and only twigged when we got to the busy A7, so we turned back and managed to get on the obscured cycle path. We did an extra mile by accident. Curses.

Blimey. Look. A picture!
Only about 2 hours into the day's cycling and on a stretch of old railway line near Westlington, we remembered to get out the camera. It's got to be packed away when cycling 'cos it's too big to go in a pocket and pedal comfortably. The next trip needs a slimmer camera.

Just past this point we found a rather confusing route 7 signpost and ended up deviating from our original planned route. Sustrans need to do a bit of work here. In fact, they need to do a lot of work.
So instead of heading south towards Carlisle, we were heading west towards the M6 for a while, though after crossing it, we did turn south and followed some incredibly straight roads past the Kingmoor railway yards. Not wildly exciting this stretch to be honest. The route 7 signs were ancient, so it was probably the original route.

And then we trundled through the suburbs of Carlisle, through a park, across a bridge, along a footpath / cyclepath or two and then the route 7 signs ran out and route 72 ones started. Arsebiscuits.
Ian's fancy SatNav meant we knew roughly where to go, but not quite how to get there because it wasn't fancy enough.
Anyway, for future reference, if you're on Bridge Street heading west, turn left onto Viaduct Estate Road, which is where we went wrong due to missing signs.
Of course, when we found Route 7 again, sod's law ensured it was closed and being dug up, so we had to find our own way across the river. Should have turned right over Nelson Bridge, but we went straight on and got very lost for ages before we found the riverside route again. We lost an hour in total which wasn't great. Looking back I should have had loads of photos of us looking flustered and lost. Oh well.
It was time for lunch.

You can click on this majestic panorama to get the full impact of Mr McDonald's fine physique.
Nice spot to eat though. Them pies from Longtown were excellent.

So, after the obligatory bog stop in a Dalston pub by you know who, nothing to do with the pies mind, we kept cycling along lots of minor country roads, with trees and grass and sheep and cows and stuff. And, er, not many pictures.
It did start to gradually go uphill all the time, and with the headwind it was harder going than expected.

Look at these two chancers.
We weren't as happy as the pictures show if I remember and it was after 5pm by this time, but we stopped for a snack and to ring ahead to the B&B at Little Salkeld just to let them know we were actually going to turn up at some point.
Penrith was still to come, but once we got to the next village of Skelton, it was mainly downhill for a good way.
Under the M6 and it was into Penrith and the delights of Fell Lane. Quite steep and half a mile long.

I got up there a few minutes before Ian. Here he comes. Slightly blurry, but it was getting quite gloomy and I was breathing hard.
(Due to the climb and not the subject matter)

It's quite a spectacular view from the road at the top though.

Look at that. Best click it to get the bigger one. We were quite lucky with the weather really.
6.15pm by now though, so it was darker than the pictures show. Bike lights were on.

We still had about 7 or 8 miles left to go, and there was a couple of nasty hills to get up, but the Bank House Farm B&B at Little Salkeld was reached about 7.15pm. Had the place to ourselves too.
Quick shower and we were very kindly driven to the Shepherds Inn pub at Langwathby. Great place it was, fantastic food, a good pint and lots of banter with the locals. They even called the B&B to pick us up at the end of the evening. We liked that.

He's a professional photgrapher you know.

View Day 2 of the route in Google Earth

National Cycle Route 7 - Gatehouse to The Black Horse

2009-10-11T19:30:00.014+01:00

Tuesday 6th October 2009: Day 1
Gatehouse to Gretna - 78 miles approx

A wet and miserable start to the day and after breakfast and packing and getting everything sorted, it's almost 10.15am before the pedalling starts in earnest.

A snap from the church wall at Borgue with the self timer. Look at that lovely weather. Still smiling though, despite the grey skies. The rain was that fine drizzle most of the time with the occasional heavier shower. Could have been worse though, and the wind was light.

Kirkcudbright.
Here you can see Ian posing by the harbour. He's been hanging around the docks for years of course. He's crossing his legs already and we're only 14 miles in.

Having spent the previous week in Egypt, Ian was to become increasingly reliant on these. Not so much spending a penny, more a few pounds.

The cycling cap under that helmet was great in the rain, as were the overshoes.
Endura Luminite Overshoes for those that are interested. Ian coveted them.
But 14 miles in by midday wasn't quite the speed we needed to keep up, so it was off again along the B727 to Gelston and Castle Douglas.

Somewhere between Kirkcudbright and Gelston, we spotted this.
I'm not sure what Ian's attempting to show, but I suspect he's exaggerating an awful lot.
Unless he's just had a dump.

Castle Douglas. 1.30pm. 25 miles in.
Is there a better place to have a lunchtime pasty in the rain, than a bus stop?

We ploughed on along the old military road towards Dumfries, which was a suprisingly hilly route, with the bit through Haugh of Urr in particular being a bit of a climb. Basically, it was slow going. Ian's not the quickest uphill, and the wet weather gear was getting a bit damp and sweaty which started pulling at my knee, so we weren't exactly flying along.
Now I'd been scouting ahead on the internet before we left, and there's a cafe in Dumfries called the Tree House Cafe which was supposed to be bike friendly and it was just off the route. Ideal spot for a meal and a coffee we thought.
Could we find it? We even asked directions, only to finally stumble upon it after half an hour of searching. Closed. Much swearing.
So, it was a stop at Greggs and a street bench.
No sign of toilets and then to top it all, Ian got a puncture somehow.

He seems quite happy about it though.

By this time it was 4.30pm and we'd only done half of the day's mileage in 6 hours.
But then, our luck changed. Some posh 20p a go toilets were found, and we hit the next section along the Solway Firth which was lovely and flat.

Here's Ian in front of Criffel. 5.20pm

The rain had stopped too. There was even the occasional flash of blue sky. We raced on along the flat roads at a good speed. Yay for those low resistance tyres.

6.30pm near Powfoot, about 55 miles in.
Starting to get dark, so we stopped to put on some lights. The temperature was starting to drop off too.

Look at that sunset though!

Does this look like the face of a man who's stopped in every public toilet for that last 55 miles?

Well, darkness fell shortly afterwards which sort of spoils the photo taking, but we pedalled on through Annan, and eventually made it to Gretna at about 8.15pm.

Here's an internet picture of our accomodation for the night, Surrone House, in Gretna.
The owner, Christine, was great, and as we were the only guests, despite the late hour, she happily made us a fantastic dinner which we were more than ready for.

The room was very nice as you can see.
(You'll pay for this shot Mr Photgrapher!!!)

We retired to the Crossways Inn just along the road for a couple of pints before giving up for the night.
We'd done 78 miles, 4 steak slices, 2 pasties, 3 doughnuts, 6 Cadbury's mini rolls and lots of liquid by this point. Day 2 will follow soon.

View the route in Google Earth

National Cycle Route 7 - Gatehouse to The Black Horse

2009-10-11T18:40:00.010+01:00

Well, after a not inconsiderable blogging break, mainly due to no one taking cameras out on the bikes with them, it's time for Dunk and Mr McDonald's jaunt along a good chunk of National Cycle Route 7, starting in southern Scotland, near Gatehouse of Fleet and finishing back at The Black Horse three days later.

Monday 5th October 2009: Day 0

Bikes and gear loaded up into Dunk's car and driven to Gatehouse. A variety of pies and pasties bought at Tesco's on the way, and then it's time to admire the local scenery.

You can tell he's wondering if this trip is a good idea.

Our resident photographer for hire showing off again. Definite calm before the storm, those rain clouds are looming.

The evening was spent in The Masonic Arms in Gatehouse. A spot of fish and chips, and the odd pint.

Tenants. Scottish lager. What could possibly be wrong with that.

Dunk doing his best Paul Newman impression. Ian was allowed to win a game just to get the trip off on the right foot. He'll claim he was the superior player, but it's not true. Just luckier.

So, all ready for an early start in the morning.

Consett, Knee Bother - 19th June 2009

2009-07-10T20:54:00.008+01:00

(approximately 40 miles)

Another bike ride that's been slow to make it onto the blog. More dodgy pictures have surfaced, so.....
Cast your minds back to June 19th, and it's just Ian and Dunk out again, as Jim and Chris had delved into the bag of excuses once more.
Just a gentle ride was planned, as it was blowing a gale again, and my knee wasn't what it should be, plus I had new cycling glasses to try and get used to. Odd distortions from the prescription lenses you know.

Along the Quayside by Scotswood Business Park, and the heavens opened. Just a shower, so we hid behind a building and let it blow over. Note the stylish headgear and aforementioned shades.

So, it was along the Newcastle side of the river, over the Scotswood Bridge, and onto the Derwent Walk.

Action shot on the Derwent Walk at Rowlands Gill.

And here's ~~George Clooney~~ Dunk at Lintz Green Station. Too cool for school.
Actually, the new glasses were performing pretty well. No flies in the face or watery eyes. Result.

Sadly, the dodgy knee eventually gave up the ghost at Consett Steel Works, rather badly actually, and of course the furthest point from home. We limped very slowly to the tearoom at Lydgetts Junction.

Ian puts on a brave face while I load up with drugs. Ahhhh, emergency Ibuprofens.
Actually, he's probably admiring himself in the reflection on the new shades.

Toastie!
Cheese and Ham. Lovely.

Tucking into a rather large piece of Banoffee Gateaux, somewhat drowned in cream. Which is a good thing. Can't have Ibuprofens on an empty stomach you know. The Hownsgill Tea Room is very good, dead cheap and big helpings.
Note, still wearing the new glasses. DId I mention I was trying out some new glasses?

Used to have hair before wearing the cycling helmet you know.

Just west of Annfield Plain, and the drugs are working as long as I took it slow. We had fiddled with the seat height as well, which also seemed to help.

We pressed on until past Stanley when Ian decided to take us on a detour to avoid any uphill bits and save the knee.
A few hairy moments crossing dual carriageways, Ian racing on ahead so much that I got lost near Pelton, nasty rush hour traffic in Ouston and a few grumpy moments down towards Lamesley, and then up the old Bowes Incline to the Angel.
And then to top it all a puncture. Back wheel of course. Not my day. Ian fixed it double quick (well, much quicker than I would). I had paid for the food though, so he earned it.

So with that, it was back to the pub. 40 miles. Just taking it easy apparently.

(There might be a Google Earth file at some point of this route)

Four One Get Fat On Fish - 12th June 2009

2009-07-03T22:07:00.016+01:00

(approximately 36-ish miles)

It's been a bit quiet on the cycling front for a while. Various excuses offered, from injury, to work, to redecorating the ladies toilets. Some are perhaps more convincing than others.
Anyway, a disc of photos has mysteriously found it's way onto the internet at last, so......

It's June 12th, a hot sunny day, and the four usual suspects set out from the car park of The Black Horse, and head through Birtley to the railway line, before barrelling along to the coast at Sunderland.

Ian remembered he had a cameraphone with him at this point, and clambered up an embankment by the National Glass Centre to take this picture. An odd looking ship.
Just off to the left of this picture, a couple of young ladies scurried past a moment later, no doubt overcome by the acres of Ian's belly flesh that could be seen. We pray for rain sometimes and the waterproofs.

Jim, our resident Doctor Doolittle works his magic a little further along the riverfront at Sunderland.
Surprisingly, they didn't stay that long, and hurried away.

Kate Winslett has let herself go.

We pressed on to the seafront, and turned north for a mile or two, before stopping for a spot of nosh at Latimers Shellfish Deli near Whitburn.

Chris has just seen the previous picture.

Kate Winslett has really let herself go, again.

Actually, Jim was gorging on a smoked mackerel with black pepper sarnie he managed to cobble together himself. Rather good stuff actually.

Mmmmmm, mackerel.....

The remains of Dunk's traditional carrot cake.
To be fair, Ian did press the shutter on his cameraphone before any had been eaten.

In the carpark at Minchella's next door, we stumbled across this scene of horror. Didn't put anyone off the ice creams though.

And with that, Ian and Chris fled back to the Black Horse at breakneck speed, hence the lack of further photos, leaving Jim and Dunk to meander back at a more sedate pace. Especially up Leam Lane bank. That was very sedate.

There may not be a Google Earth route for this ride, as they take ages to do and I'm feeling quite lazy in this hot, humid heat.

A New Cafe In Consett - 8th May 2009

2009-05-09T21:51:00.011+01:00

(Approximately 40 miles)

Dunk and Ian out on the bikes today. Jim and Chris had better plans.
Blowing a gale from the west, so we decided to head towards the Derwent Walk as that was likely to be a bit more sheltered.

So, it was down through Gateshead and onto the cycle path that runs along the Quayside.

Rain!
Ian decided to put on his waterproofs at this time, which was a good idea, as his cycle top was a bit small. Too much bare skin. Not what you want to see.

The Wild Man Of Dunston lurches out of the undergrowth.
This was behind the Rocket and following an old Garden Festival path, but the route was blocked by a security gate, probably because the staithes had burnt down on the other side.
So, it was down an embankment to get back on track.
Ian fell off at this point he says. Missed that. Curses.

Rattling along the Derwent Walk.
National Cycle Route 14 you know. All leafy and green at this time of year.

Gravity in action (Downhill)
Look at him go.

Gravity in action (Uphill)
Look at him not go.

Actually, something snapped in the back axle at this point, so he had to take it easy after this.
Was making some very odd noises... and so was the bike (Ba-doom-tish)
Anyway, we soon made Consett.

Tea! Toasty!
A sign at Lydgetts Junction guided us to the newly opened Hownsgill Tea-Room.
They serve anyone, as you can see.

Banoffee Gateaux with extra squirty cream.
Lovely.

Dunk taking a mucky picture.
In reality, texting Chris to inform him of the rather windy conditions on route. Glad we weren't heading up onto the moors to Parkhead Station like he was later on.

Ian requires a haircut. Here he is leaving the new tea-room.
Tea, bottled water, 2 toasties, and 1 large bit of cake came to £6.95 which was very good.
Recommended.

Refueled, and with the strong wind behind us, Birtley was reached in no time.
Look you can see the Angel in the distance.

And there's Dunk cycling around the base of it.
A professional took this. You can tell. He's available to do weddings and portraits.

A good ride, that.

View the ride in Google Earth

Blogger's Mate Again - Stanley to Parkhead Station - 2nd April 2009

2009-05-08T18:05:00.016+01:00

Approximately 38 miles

A slightly older ride this one. Only just got hold of the photos, so cast your minds back to the beginning of April and just pretend. It's the day before the Corbridge Tea Room Run

thursday cycling instead of fri cos I av to work just me an dunk available bewtiful day so we decided it was the moors for us park in stanley ana nice ride up to parkhead station
(Just Dunk and Mr McDonald today, as it's a Thursday and only the two layabouts weren't working. Some people had to do Thursday as they had a club night to prepare the next day. The dirty old man. Anyway, it was a rather nice day, so we decided to head up to Parkhead Station on the Waskerley Way.
This is the translation of Mr McDonald's rather unique blogging style)

dunk ona mission head down straight past the jolly drovers
(No stopping for a pint this early in the afternoon)

liggits junction site of the old steelworks an dunk bracein himsel for a quick slug of hot steel
(A rather dodgy attempt at a perspective joke.
It's not easy coming up with good photo ideas you know)

dunk demonstratein how to tame the birds at parkhead
(Not a real bird, but a wooden one that sits on the fencepost)

tea pepsi an carrot cake at parkhead station dynamic angle actionshot of me bein mother
(In the tearoom at Parkhead Station, and Ian masters the art of pouring a cup of tea. Normally he needs a grown-up to help)

propper strong tea no skimpin here double teabags
(Ian has to provide a sample for the doping authorities)

dunk lookin expectant hidein behind a giant pepsi bottle then the carrot cake arrives
(After some rather lovely toasties, it was time to order carrot cake again. Lovely carrot cake.
While waiting we amused ourselves by taking a picture of the 3D Barcode on the Pepsi bottle.
Actually working out how to claim the prize proved a bit tricky though)

what a happy smile
(Carrot cake has arrived. Happy Happy Joy Joy)

aaaaaaaaaaa tried to freewheel downhill in a train but it wooden go ha ha
(Thought we'd take a picture of a train for Jim.
Actually, I think Mr McDonald has found his natural mode of transport)

preparein for the off what a brama of a day
(After stocking up on fuel, it was time to head back.
The view from the top of the moors was something. You could see for miles.)

dunk was art director fo this shot of sign pointin the way home but sed he wood let me fiddle so a took the oppratuneity wif both hands ina manner of speakin
(See, a bike. On the Waskerley Way.
It's a old railway line you know. And downhill for miles. Sadly, there was a headwind, so not as fast as usual on the way down)

me nearly back to car one sweaty bloggers mate
(One for the ladies out there)

ps. after hour long an ard trip dunkin had a little stiffness (thats wot he calls it) but says it was expertly delt with by a very willing young lady. May of bin the first known application of nut rub xxx
(No idea. Probably been drinking)

BHCC on Tour - Clatteringshaws Dam, SW Scotland - 28th April 2009

2009-05-06T19:13:00.003+01:00

33 miles approximately (plus another 7 to get to the pub and back)

So, once again the Masonic Arms in Gatehouse of Fleet was the starting point, with Duncan still being the only one who can remember how to get on a bike.
Managed to take a picture of the pub this time. Go me.
Set out following National Route 7 again, but this time instead of turning off to Anwoth, it was straight on and up towards the old railway line.

See, route 7.
Uphill for nearly 7 miles along a very quiet road.

This is Rusko Tower, built in the 16th Century, and now someone's house.

Someone clearly doesn't mind the mud, do they?

Still climbing, but up to 340ft now.

One of the funky mileposts you see every so often when out on a bike. The Royal Bank Of Scotland spent a few quid sticking these up all over the country.
Before they went bankrupt of course.

Well, almost at the old station now. That's Cairnsmore in the distance.

Up to 510ft now, and it's the old trackbed of the Dumfries to Stranraer line, "The Portpatrick Railway". It's a fairly good surface here, but it's hard work cycling along it, as the impression of the sleepers is still evident. You need rear suspension and a fat arse to be able to get any speed up in comfort.

Looking the other way, this is the actual station building, although now it's someone's house, so you can't go along there.

A couple of pictures of Gatehouse Station culled from the internet again. Looking west towards Creetown, the buildings are still recognizable in the photo from the 1960's.

So, lacking the suspension, it's back off the railway line and onto the adjacent road, which makes up the official "offroad" route 7, onto the Cairnsmore of Fleet nature reserve. That's the Big Water Of Fleet viaduct you can see in the distance. 20 arches.

The Clints Of Dromore rising up. The railway line runs just the other side of that little green hill, and in places goes through very narrow cuttings. This way is a bit longer, but mainly downhill on some nice tarmac. Apart from avoiding the sheep, a nice respite after the climb up from the sea.

Viaduct!
Quite impressive stuff.

All the brickwork was added to strengthen the viaduct during the war, to carry the convoy cargo that came into Stranraer on the west coast.

And they held it all together with bits of old rail. It's seen better days really.

Risking life and limb to get these shots.

It doesn't lean as much as this picture shows, honest.

Up the embankment, and onto the old trackbed, and this is the scene at the end of the viaduct.
The security fence has been partially removed, after having been closed off for a decade or so.
Supposedly, Sustrans own it now, so it's possible they're planning to make it safer and open the route up in future.

Artistic shot. It's really high up actually. No safety net or anything.

This is possibly for keeping sand in. It just sort of hangs over the edge of the embankment. Quite odd.

You can still see the impression of the old railway line and where the ballast was banked up at the sides. 43 years since the track went.

It's a very big embankment leading up to the viaduct.

Look how clean that bike is. Makes a nice change.
This is looking west, back along the line towards the old station

So, viaduct behind, it's off again along route 7 and onto the proper off-road bit.
A dark and dingy forest.

But just around the corner, here's a scene of devastation. Looks like a bomb's gone off.

This is where all the trees have gone. A lot of logs, stacked up along the roadside for the next mile or so.

The logging machines make a bit of a mess of the road, so when they're done, they fill in the muddy bits and the holes with this really coarse crushed stone. Not nice for cycling on at all. There was a bit too much of this.

Action shot! We've had cows, we've had sheep, and now we have goats.
Wild goats. They weren't hanging around to have their picture taken though.
Where was Doctor Doolittle?

Cairnsmore. Don't often get to see it from this angle. The sun came out at this point, and with no cover, it was baking hot.

Wherever the loggers have been, there were these solitary trees trunks left standing every few hundred yards. Maybe it's for the birds.

A bit further along the trail, looking back at Loch Grannoch.
Past the highest point now, which is about 900ft, so until we get to Clatteringshaws Loch, most of it is downhill.

First view of Clatteringshaws Loch in the distance.
The loggers are working in this area, and the track is starting to get churned up.

The other side of the logging activities, looking back up the hill. Very muddy in the middle section, rather precarious on the steep downhill bit. Looking forward to that section on the return journey.

Almost there now. That's the first look at Clatteringshaws Dam.

And there it is up close.
Built in the mid 1930's, so it's quite an old one.

Can't get along the top of it though, which is a shame. I'll be in trouble again, taking all these pictures.

Peering through the railings and looking along the top of the dam.

So in the gathering gloom, it's time to head back the same way.
See, official Route 7 signs.

That hill looks far more intimidating when you're tired. Didn't look that steep on the way down.

It is that steep. For a mile. The muddy bit up beyond these logs was fun. Very low gear, just trying not to stop, because you wouldn't get going again. At least the logging crew had stopped and gone home by this time. You don't want an audience.

Our intrepid explorer discovers the mythical source of the Black Horse's Best Scotch.

Lots of pedalling later and the forest gives way to the Big Water Of Fleet Viaduct again.

And yes, the water really is that colour. It's the peat that does it.

Luckily, don't have to pedal up there.

So, back the same way down the valley to Gatehouse and the pub, before heading off to collapse in a big heap.
Time for one last artistic shot of dusk across the Fleet Bay.
Next time, it'll be back on more familiar terrain, and perhaps someone else might manage to do some cycling as well.

View the route in Google Earth