Reaching for the Skye

The original plan was a 9 day bike-packing trip to the Isle of Skye, what actually happened after a two hour drive through torrential rain on a Friday evening with darkening skies and blustering winds, was a last minute self-catering cottage booked for a week.

And so it began. All change. A quick trip into Fort William to purchase suitable footwear - packing for a week of cycling is quite different to a week of walking but I refused to buy anything more than a new pair of Salomon trainers as I have a house full to overflowing with walking gear, even if it was 400 miles away!

View over Portree from the cottage

This was only the second of the annual 'trips with friends' we'd planned all those years ago in Aviemore - me, Steve M and Chris G. The first one to Anglesey was a few years in the making and then there has been a gap of another 4 or 5 years so we're actually working on two a decade. But considering the amount we drink on these trips, that might well be a good thing.

The two bedroom self-catering cottage, Mountain View, just outside Portree couldn't have been more perfect. It had everything needed for a comfortable week including stunning views in all directions. Mornings started with a quick look outside to check the sunrise and every evening half an eye was kept on sunsets and cloud formations. Low cloud and rainbows were also a feature, as was the resident hare.

Each day was different with hill walks, beach trips, distillery tours, castle visits and the odd ride here and there. Despite the bad weather on some days we still managed to get out and about - bad weather equals moody skies and great photos remember. Although I'm not so sure the trip to the most westerly part of the island, Nieste Point, on a day with 70mph winds was such a good idea as I couldn't actually hold the camera still enough to get a sharp shot!

Fortunately for me, Steve Makin is a professional standard photographer and if you're going to be stuck on a dramatic isle for a week at the changing of the seasons, there's really nobody better. We'd be driving somewhere, one of us would spot a shot, get out, take some photos and jump back in; only to repeat the same actions a few miles down the road when another glorious view appeared. Evenings were spent reviewing the 100 or so photos taken each day, and drinking a formidable amount of alcohol. On a good day I'm as quick as Steve on a bike, on some days I'm as enthusiastic as he is about riding, unfortunately I'll never be as good as him at taking photos.

Another incredible week with one of my closest friends and a great way to relax after such a busy summer. Just what I needed: an old friendship strengthened, new friendships made, new places explored, a hobby encouraged, knowledge gained and a change of perspective in many ways.

The full photo gallery is available on my flickr page. And to see how it can be done, Steve's flickr gallery is here.

A Big Welsh Day

Big views. Big hills. And for the first time properly, big wheels. It's been a long time since I rode a bike in the Brecon Beacons, probably almost 10 years. During that time I've spent a lot of time walking in the area (see 'mountain walks' label) and have spotted numerous paths and trails that have prompted the phrase "this would be an ace trail to ride"; A phrase common to mountain bikers and yet seeminly rare and incomprehensible to normal people.

One such trail is the bridleway from Y Das to Grwyne Fawr Reservoir - a rock strewn double track that gentle descends down the valley to the dam.

So finding myself in South Wales on a gloriously sunny March morning, there was only one thing on my mind, to ride that trail. Throw into the equation the official MTB route guides for the Brecon Beacons I'd bought many years before and never used, add the excitement of getting to play on my new favourite toy, a Giant Anthem X 29er, for the first time, and it was panning out to be a big day in the saddle.


I'd decided I was going to do a combination of the black and red routes that were based around Talgarth, adjusting them to my tastes. Off I went from Mynydd Du car park and immediately started climbing up through the forest and out onto the open hillsides high above Crickhowell. Brecon Beacon's riding generaly falls into three categories: 1) long and grassy, 2) a mud slog, or 3) steep and rocky. This route wasn't going to disappoint on any front. But no matter where I was or what I was riding on, the Giant 29er, (let's call him 'Anontio' for future reference, all of my other bikes have names so I don't want Antonio to feel left out during his short stay) just kept rolling, and very quickly: quick on the climbs, nimble through the rocks, ate up the fireroad miles and ploughed on through down all of the descents. It was proving hard to find fault with him.

Soon, much of the scenery became familiar as I trundled through BBMC country and realised exactly what was ahead. In complete opposition to the ultimate goal of this ride, the long, grass climb out of the valley floor up towards Pen Trumau ranks high on my list of 'trails I have no inclination to ever ride.' But at least I was rewarded with a view for once, something I've never seen on the BBMC. And then there was a nice little surprise in store for me.



Straight over the hill and down the other side towards Grafog I stumbled upon a lovely looking rock gully - the perfect test for Antonio and the confidence he had instilled in me. Half way down it started to go horribly wrong and an inevitable over-the-bars moment would have occurred had it not been for the unstoppable roll-ability of this bike, resulting in a rather stylish, slow-motion 'step off the back' dismount worthy of any stunt show.

Composed and on my way once more there was more testing terrain ahead. Considering the rather slick looking design of the tyres, the larger footprint from the 29er wheel found traction where I wouldn't expect it in the thick, muddy trails and I just kept rolling.

The final climb: Y Das. Famous for being 1000ft of unrideable, boulder strewn, rock stepped, bridleway hell. It took almost an hour to push to the top of this monster, the second time I've had to endure this nightmare but I can assure you it's the last!

So, five hours and 25 miles later I finally reached my destination: the head of Grwyne Fawr bridleway. (A mere 6km from my starting point!) And the descent didn't disappoint, neither did the Giant Anthem 29, it was a match made in heaven. The momentum of the big wheels just kept building and rocks that would have brought a normal bike to a grinding halt just flicked out from underneath me.


Job done, another one off the tick list. A beautifully big day in the hills, just me and my bike, just like the good ole days.

Fantastic Days!

...are few and far between these days. Those truly magnificent days when everything just drops in to place, the world seems perfect, life is good and you wish the day would never end; you wish that you could somehow spend the rest of your life in that day. Yesterday was such a day.

A long overdue walk with Tony (TalesFromTheRock) and the Gods were smiling upon us. Weatherwise it was by far the best walk I have ever been on with Tony - a bright blue cloudless sky and perfectly still. Up on the Black Mountains the view stretched for miles with the Brecon Beacons, the Malvern Hills and even Clee Hill visible for once.


This was a practice walk for the Big Black Mountain Challenge in May and followed a section of the route that included the toughest ascent. It was also the first time I've been walking with Tony's Bernese Mountain Dogs - when it comes to companion dogs, there's no better breed than this! They barely strayed more than 3ft from us all day and Rocky insisted on a cuddle every time we sat down. (Yes, they really are that soft!)


A few hours in and we were both still revelling in the gorgeousness of the day: the ribbons of snow on the Brecon Beacons, the glistening reservoir, the silent valleys except for playful Skylarks (and 240lbs of panting dogs!) If only I could have cooled off as easily as the Berners (Spot on the left, big Dad Rocky on the right)


As the miles ticked by we circled back to the car and the paths got busier with families on Easter holidays. I enjoyed one last look around and savoured the oh-so-perfect moment and time stood still just a little longer.

And then, as if the day couldn't get any better - an ice cream van in the car park! 16 miles and 6.5 hours of sun bathed mountain walking with great company, a warm, satisfied feeling inside, (no knee pain/rib pain or blisters for once) and an ice cream. If this isn't the definition of a perfect day, then I don't know what is.