Cycling in Midlothian (and elsewhere)

We had quite a few mild days at the start of November this year, great for getting out on our bikes, but by this time in December we were back into proper winter cycling weather again. With the alternative of Zwift, it is very easy to just say “nah” and do an indoor ride instead. But if you can push yourself to get out into the fresh air, then you really do feel better for it… most of the time.

On this particular day, Colette had decided to take a cycle to Pirntaton, where she saw white pheasants recently, and was keen to go back in case she could see them again. I decided to follow her instead of Zwifting, especially as I had a fresh new winter bike to try out.

I built this bike up over the space of about 2 months, buying the bits and bobs I needed gradually, including quite a few from Aliexpress. There were some bargain buys in there, including the ZRACE cable-actuated hydraulic disc brakes, costing less than £30 all-in! My first ride was to bed in these brakes and by the end of it, they seemed to be working pretty well.

So we headed off from home on a dull day, forecast at 4 degrees C with a light northerly breeze. Not great, but at least there was no risk of ice and no rain, so with three layers and my thickest gloves I felt I should be warm enough.

We turned onto the A7 with Colette in front as is the new norm, being motor powered, and me behind trying my best to keep up. The first hill is a bit of a shock to the legs, but once that is over and they are warmed up a bit, it starts to feel a bit easier. In fact, by the time we reached the Heriot turnoff, my legs were feeling great. Mind you, I bet it had something to do with the tailwind!

Next, we took a left onto the Old Stage Road and discovered that it isn’t nearly as well drained as the A7. There were still puddles and water draining off fields after the heavy rains of the past few days. I was glad my new bike had mudguards.

This road also undulates up and down a lot more than the A7, and the Brockhouses descent presented something of a challenge in how I tackled it, as I certainly wanted my new brakes to work well, but not lock up on the wet road, with dirt and gravel lying on the sharp corner at the bottom. 

As it turned out, there were no dramas, and even the rumble over the cattle grid that followed also went smoothly due to the wider tyres compared to my old winter bike. No stopping to pick up ejected water bottles!

Steep climb ahead!

Soon we reached the right turn for Pintaton and we started going more steadily upwards, taking us into increasingly remote and wild-looking countryside. There was a flat section, from which the following climb looked impressively steep. It started with a short, sharp descent into a corner, meaning there wasn’t much chance of starting the climb with much momentum. Then it was down into my lowest gear (42 x 38) which is lower than my old winter bike could manage, but still didn’t exactly feel easy as we slowly hauled ourselves up the incline, which maxed out at around 14%.

Once at the top, we paused to take in the view. The tarmac ended here, but the two dirt tracks that carried on from here were fairly smooth. Definitely not too gnarly for my new tyres. So Colette took us down the left one, looking for the fabled white pheasants.

After descending for about a mile, we were nearing a remote farmhouse. There was a sudden pheasant commotion as Colette, still in front, neared the birds. I could vaguely make out the fleeing pheasants from behind, but sadly missed the white one. At least Colette spotted one, and it made her day, which was great!

As far as we went. Maybe we will (ad)venture further into the distance some day..

There wasn’t much point in progressing any further, as the track peters out after the farmhouse, and anyway Colette was feeling the cold. Her gloves were just not up to the low temperature (2 degrees C here) and she couldn’t get warm. So we decided to just retrace our steps as it was the most direct route back. 

That meant going back down the A7 to the North Middleton turnoff. I had a bad pass there the last time when moving out to turn right, and it spooked me a bit. I told Colette it would be good for me to do that bit of road again to remind me that it was just a one-off.

Leaving the now hiding pheasants behind us and heading back up the dirt track took us to what was now a 14% descent, down what seemed like a river of runoff from the fields. It struck me that this could be a recipe for disaster, but we both managed it without incident, and were soon all the way back to the Old Stage Road.

We rejoined the A7 at the Heriot turnoff and Colette forged ahead into a light headwind. I was glad to be in her slipstream, but keeping up wasn’t easy, pushing my heart rate up into the 160s.

Once we passed the Tynehead turnoff, things got a bit easier as the road levelled off and then started descending. There is quite a long section here which has got really rough over the years. I was very glad to find out that it felt a lot less bumpy with my 32mm tyres compared to the old 25mm ones.

In fact, I was really happy overall with the new bike, and was in a good mood as we approached the end of the ride. But not for long.

As we neared the right turn, Colette signalled and moved out ahead of me, then I followed suit. And just as we reached the right turn lane, a car suddenly overtook us both at high speed, giving us a real fright.

What are the chances of that happening twice in a row? It only happened once before in the 12 years we’ve been cycling here. But the fact is (or seems to me) that there is much more traffic on the A7  now than back then, and everyone seems to be in a hurry. 

Approaching that junction at 25mph+, the wind noise makes it hard to hear a fast approaching car until the last minute, and a quick glance behind will only pick up any cars that are fairly close at that point. So you end up just signalling well in advance and pulling out gradually, hoping for the best. Or else, pull over and stop on the left just before the junction, have a good look and start off again when the coast is clear.

There is a better way however, and that is to use a bike radar. I’ve looked into it, and now ordered one, plus a mirror for the new bike. Everyone who uses one says it makes them so much safer. It’s pricey, but I’m certain it’s well worth it. Maybe I will write more once I start using it, but most of all I hope it ends up being an expensive ornament because we only ever encounter safe drivers from now on!

We decided on a week’s holiday in Ibiza this year, as a break from Mallorca, and to find out how it compares. There isn’t the same cycling culture in Ibiza, but we chose the Tropic Garden hotel in Santa Eularia particularly because it described itself as “cycling friendly”. There was no special secure bike storage, but we were able to keep our bikes on our balcony, and in addition to that, there was a cold water dispenser on each floor, both very cyclist friendly I’d say.

After a few days exploring the area, I came up with this particular ride, with the aim of reaching the secluded bay of Calla Nadja at the north of the island. There didn’t seem to be anything much there, but the road leading there looked interesting, which was what we were looking for.

A leisurely breakfast saw us leaving a little later than intended on our gravel bikes. I made the decision to leave the road bike at home at the last minute, after finding the website of the Kandani bike shop, where I found details of the many gravel tracks in the area, and some sample routes to work from. Colette’s bike is also a gravel bike, but with 32mm road tyres fitted, it is a good compromise between road and gravel.

We cycled northeast out of town on the main road for a mile or so, with some moderate traffic, before going left onto a quiet country road. The network of camis is quite extensive, running through mostly tree-lined fields.  My impression is that Ibiza is more wooded than Mallorca, the trees giving welcome shelter from the wind, which was forecast to be quite strong but in fact we didn’t really notice most of the time.

My route took various twists and turns to stay away from main roads, but we did need to jump onto the EI-200 on the approach to Sant Carles and up the short climb just after. On the descent, we turned left, actually staying on the EI-200, but the traffic rapidly petered out to an occasional trickle.

We were now heading north, with the coast close by on our right, giving inviting glimpses through the trees. It was a short but beautiful climb, culminating in a stunning view over to Sant Vicent beach and the rocky promontory beyond. Soon, we had descended to Sant Vicent and were enjoying a coffee and the view out to sea.

Next, we headed west along the road to Sant Joan, which involves possibly the longest road climb on the island, although 2.7 miles at 5.6% average (787 ft elevation) is modest in comparison to Mallorca’s mountain climbs. We had barely reached the bottom of the climb when I nearly missed the turnoff to Calla Nadja, which we were to explore first.

This turned out to be a treat. First, we enjoyed a twisty, turny ascent on what looked like brand new tarmac, with next to no traffic. After a mile or so, the new tarmac ended and we were onto rougher single track road. The road then split in two, with the straight on road private, and the road to the left heading down to the sea.

It was fairly gradual for a short time, then went downhill very steeply. I tried to put the return journey out of my mind and enjoy the scenery as we made our way down, very much as you do when heading down to Sa Calobra in Mallorca. There was the sound of chainsaws as forestry workers were busy at work out on the hillside. I said “Hola!” to a few as I passed. Then there was a final drop to the beach, with reeds lining the sides of the narrow road, making it feeling even narrower.

The beach itself was pebbly, sitting in a narrow inlet. It might normally be a calm haven, but the wind today was blowing directly onshore, with quite a big swell pushing waves onto the beach. It would have been a bit uncomfortable for anyone to launch a small boat from any of the slipways that lined the bay.

We took photos and ate some snacks for energy, as we were shortly going to be needing plenty of that. Then we set foot to pedal and began the climb back up. Passing the forestry workers again, they seemed friendly and encouraging as I puffed and panted my way uphill. After the first bend, I looked down and could see Colette making her way up behind me. The workers gave her an encouraging cheer as she passed.

There were extra steep bits peppered throughout the climb, some hitting 20%. This was much harder work than the Sa Calobra climb, but luckily it was a lot shorter too. I stopped after the gradient eased off, then Colette appeared a bit later, feeling chuffed that she didn’t need to push for nearly as far as she feared.

After that, we descended the lovely new bit of road back to the main road (EI-321) and turned in the direction of Sant Joan. The first part of the climb seems the hardest, being quite steep and straight for a while, before becoming a more typical Spanish mountain climb, weaving its way gently round the hillside, but never getting too steep.

I found a nice vantage point to have a rest and wait for Colette to appear round the corner before carrying on to the top. After that, it was a fast descent taking us to Sant Joan in next to no time.

Interesting sculpture outside the church opposite our lunch stop

We found a place to have lunch, and since they advertised bocadillos, we decided to have some. We both went for fried pork loin and cheese; very tasty, though Colette couldn’t finish hers. 

By this point in the ride, I was noticing the chain sounding a bit rough in the lowest gears and was in need of some oil. So we took a look in the local supermarket and found 3-in-1 oil, but just in a spray can. It seemed a waste for a single squirt, seeing as I had some oil back at the hotel and the spray can would not be allowed on the plane home. In the end I decided to give it a miss, and as we continued the descent in high gears, I couldn’t hear the chain noise any more anyway.

My plan was to stick the the main road (EI-300) for a while, as though it was busy, there was a fairly narrow verge to the right of the white line to keep us away from the cars. Passing a bus stop, I pulled over a bit extra on hearing a vehicle behind, which resulted in a beep and a cheery wave out the window. I thought that was a bit over the top, but Colette said no, didn’t you recognise that they were the forestry guys (and gal)? They passed her first and had called out some presumably well meaning but sadly incomprehensible encouragement. That was really nice of them, and yes, I can be a bit unobservant at times.

A bit further on, we managed to take a left turn, away from the main road onto a network of gravel roads. Immediately, stress levels reduced and we could enjoy the countryside in peace. We absolutely loved the dusty white gravel tracks, and the added bonus here was that we were still going mostly downhill, so I found myself freewheeling and feeling a great chilled holiday vibe in the sun.

As we got closer to Santa Eularia, we moved away from the gravel to quiet camis, then busier ones, till we reached the town itself just as school was coming out. We put ourselves into that traffic, as we wanted to have a quick look at the town centre, and maybe even find somewhere selling ice cream. Well, we had to go without ice cream, but our backup was a visit to the Kandani bike shop.

The shop is quite extensive, with lots of nice stuff, at prices that might initially seem high if you are used to shopping online, but it’s the same everywhere. We decided to treat ourselves to some nice fancy new Camelbak water bottles, and we also found an adorable mini water bottle / holder for our 3 year old grandson Albie.

All that was left was the short ride back to the hotel for showers, some bike cleaning and chain oiling, then relaxing, which included starting this particular write-up. 

But that was interrupted by the dreaded hissssss of a deflating tyre. Aaargh! I was quick enough to find out that the air was escaping from the valve area of my front wheel. I was pretty sure that meant curtains for my tubeless setup, so was resigned to sticking an inner tube in there instead. I’d brought plenty of spare tubes.

Unfortunately, things took a turn for the worse when I discovered that my tyre levers were missing. Either I’d somehow forgot to pack them, or else they had fallen out of my saddle bag somewhere. It was nearly 6pm, but luckily the bike shop stayed open till 7pm. Thank god for Spanish opening hours!

I turned up on Colette’s bike and tried to explain my requirement to the staff. It took a while, but when the guy behind the counter realised what I was after, he fished out a set of tyre levers from behind the counter and gave me them for free! Yes, things were looking up!

I got the tyre off easily thanks to these really top notch levers and set about washing off the tubeless sealant residues in the shower, all the time saying to myself this was fine, this is a cycling friendly hotel after all. However, the valve was another matter. Try as I might, I couldn’t budge the lock nut.

It took nearly an hour of trying, making my fingers red raw, trying boiling water and then dripping oil on it, till I finally got it to budge. My black mood immediately lightened. An inner tube was installed in a trice and just in time to go down for dinner. Phew…

But in the night, I woke with a thought. Why would the air leak out via the valve hole? If it wasn’t the valve, maybe there was a hole in the rim tape. And if it was that, then the inner tube would probably bleb out into that same hole and burst too. I couldn’t sleep after that, so went out onto the balcony at 2.30am to check, and sure enough the tyre was indeed flat again.  

Not much sleep was had after that, but needless to say I was outside Kandani bike shop as it opened and they came up trumps again with a roll of finest quality rim tape. That saved the day, so a mere 40 minutes later we were able to get going on our final day’s ride. It was yet another great day out, and I hate to think what would have happened if the rim tape had failed when we were out on a ride, or if the bike shop hadn’t been so close by. Just a very good reminder to think of all the bits and bobs you need in the unlikely event of a serious mechanical.

We were aware that during our first ever trip to Ibiza, we had the chance to tick off another of the Balearics at the same time; that being the small island of Formentera. Luckily, we only needed to cycle as far as Es Cana (less than 3 miles) to catch the ferry. We spoke to the person at the jetty, and she advised us to arrive 50 minutes early in case of a rush.

The ferry did also stop at Santa Eularia, where we are staying, but I thought it a good idea to get on at the start of the route in case the ferry was full by the time it got to us. So we set off nice and early on a warm and sunny, but pretty windy morning.

We arrived at the ferry jetty with 45 minutes to go and it was deserted. Then we decided that we both misheard the woman, and she meant 15 minutes. Ah well, it was a nice day to stand around waiting in the sun and gazing out to sea.

The crowds did arrive just before the ferry appeared and we got on board. The crew stored our bikes near the front of the ferry and tied them down securely with rope. We went up to the open top deck and got ready to get a great view of the coastline of the island pass by on our way to the next few stops before heading out to Formentera.

However, soon after we got going, the wind got up and made it uncomfortable, so we went to the level below and shut the window to keep the wind and spray out. After picking more passengers at Santa Eularia harbour, we then stopped at Cala Llonga.

At that stop, the strong crosswind made it difficult to berth the ferry at the small gangway, so after a few failed attempts, one of the crew valiantly jumped off to help the person on shore with the ropes.  Thankfully that worked, so we could get on our way again.

The ferry passed Ibiza town, where other ferries were also setting off for Formentera. We had thought about that option, as it was cheaper, but didn’t fancy the extra round trip on top of our cycling on Formentera.

As we left the shelter of Ibiza island behind, we marvelled at the impressive sea stacks of Es Vedra, but also became more exposed to the strong westerly that was blowing. The sea became lumpier and the boat started thudding down so the skipper had to slow our speed. Sea spray was being send up, giving our bikes an unwanted salt water bath.

Finally, we reached the calm waters of La Savina harbour and set feet and tyres on Formenteran soil just after midday. First off, we headed for the cycle path round s’Estany Pudent lagoon, which was a delight. Tiny lizards kept darting across the earthen track as we approached, the sun was warm, and the reeds were keeping that strong wind at bay. We also saw a couple of flamingos waist deep in the water sifting for morsels. It was a place we could easily have spent several relaxing hours watching the wildlife, but as we only had one day on the island, we had a few more places to tick off.

First among those was the village of Es Pujols where we found a supposedly non-existent  bar (that’s what it was called!) for a very real lunch. The club sandwiches were tasty but Colette docked a few marks for using the kind of pre-sliced chicken that we only buy for the cats!

Next, we headed for Sant Ferran and onto the spinal road that heads east along the neck of the island. With the wind behind and the gradient very slightly downhill, our progress was rapid, but the return trip was worryingly in the back of our minds.

After about 5 miles or so, we reached the bottom of a climb up to what you might call the head of the island. This turned out to be the highlight of the day, if not the whole holiday. It was a mini-mountain climb, just shy of 500 ft in elevation, with perfect road surface, gradient never getting too steep, and with the best scenery. To top it off, I just had to stop and take a photo of the view back along the neck (or isthmus if you prefer). Simply perfect.

When Colette joined me at the top of the climb, she was buzzing with excitement about it, so it wasn’t just me. I was a little worried about the climbing before we arrived, as Colette has become accustomed to her e-bike recently, but as I put a super low gear on her normal bike, she can just grind it out without having to get off and push. And she is loving it!

The lighthouse at the end of the road

Next, we descended to the village of el Pilar de la Mola, then continued along the straight road till we reached the end of the island and the customary lighthouse upon a cliff edge. We took photos and visited the gift shop till we couldn’t put it off any longer. It was time for the dreaded return trip.

We were facing the dreaded triple whammy of going uphill into a strong headwind, along a road so straight and long that you never seem to be making any headway. However, we slogged it out, with the brief respite of the descent of our beautiful climb, and made it all the way to Sant Francesc, the main town of the area.

We stopped for a refreshment, and looked at the watch. There was time to explore another part of the island yet before heading back to the ferry. So I decided to follow some roads marked as cycle paths to the coast at Platja cala Saona.

Pretty soon, it became clear that these were going to be sandy gravel tracks all the way. I’m usually quite happy with gravel, but add sand in to the mix, and it can get a bit tricky. When we got there, it was not particularly exciting, apart from the wind-blown waves crashing onto the rocks.

We then returned to the harbour, coming back onto tarmac and finding a nice fast descent to La Savina in the process. Once at the harbour, we found a place for a relaxing beer before making the trip back, which did take a long time, but at least the wind had dropped and we had a more comfortable ride. 

The light was fading as we made the short trip across the harbour to our hotel, arriving exhausted in our room after a long day out, but very well worth the effort.

Oliver’s first year of cycle racing has gone well, with him picking up a few 3rd places and even a win at a crit race. He had progressed up from Category 4 to 3, and needed just one more point to reach Category 2. The Scottish National Road Race Championship was coming up in Newton Stewart and he was keen to give it a go. That was a big step up in the level of competition and also distance, at a total of 122 km (just over 75 miles).

The longer distance meant that he couldn’t carry enough water bottles on the bike to last the whole distance. So Colette and I volunteered to go along as “soigneurs”, to stand at the side of the road and pass bottles on to Oliver as he rode past.

There is a bit of skill involved for both the rider and the swannie (as they are often known in English), so we had a bit of practice ahead of time till we felt fairly confident that we could do the job.

As it was an early start, the three of us went down to Newton Stewart the day before and stayed the night in the Crown Hotel. The accommodation was basic but the breakfast was great, setting us up for the day.

Oliver went off early for sign on and to get his numbers, which he took back to the hotel to pin to his skin suit before getting dressed and heading off for the start line, while Colette and I checked out from the hotel and headed out ourselves. We drove to a layby and got our bikes out, not forgetting Ollie’s crucial spare bottles, which he had pre-prepared with a sugary mixture to rehydrate and fuel his ride.

As we were a little early, we headed off in the wrong direction for about 15 minutes before turning round and heading towards the feed zone. Our route took us along an old military road, which was very narrow with grass down the middle and was in a gradual state of deterioration towards a gravel track. Luckily we were riding gravel bikes, so no problem.

We then turned onto the B7027 and turned left, going uphill for about a mile until we came to the feed zone. This was also the finish line, or would be on the 5th time round. We parked our bikes at the side of the road and waited for the riders to appear for the first time.

It took a bit longer than expected, and it turned out that was due to an accident and the race being neutralised for a minute or two while the medics were busy. When they did appear, it was a breakaway of about nine riders that passed first, followed by the main bunch about 2 minutes later, with Oliver pulling near the front.

He didn’t need a bottle this early into the race so we were ready with our phones to capture some photos of the race going past. The next time round he probably would need a bottle though. In the meantime, I did a rough calculation that they would be back round in about 35 minutes, so we had some time to kill, which was filled by waving the phones above our heads in the hope that that would help sending the photos back home with the meager amount of signal available. They all went off eventually.

There was another neutralisation on this lap, delaying their return by a few more minutes, then the breakaway came into view. The peloton was a bit closer than last time, and there was a flurry of activity with bottles being handed over ahead of our position, although not all of them were taken successfully.

All of a sudden Oliver appeared and grabbed the bottle from my outstretched arm very firmly. A successful handover! I was very pleased, and it meant that Colette, who was standing about 20 yards further on, didn’t have to put out her arm with the backup bottle.

We now had more time to kill, so we decided to explore the gravel trails of Penninghame forest that surrounded us. I noticed that there were trails to the south of us, heading towards a loch a mile or two away. It looked ideal for a quick ride, so off we went. 

The trail soon went downhill quite fast before leveling off. I worked out from the map which turns to take on the maze of tracks through the forest, and ended up close to the loch. However, we weren’t close enough to see it, and time was not in our favour, so we started heading back. I was afraid the gravel climb back up would be slow, so I was relieved to find a parallel tarmac road leading in the same general direction. That made the ascent a lot quicker, taking us back onto the B7027 again, close to the feed zone.

We went back into position, and handed over Oliver’s 2nd bottle. I felt so relieved that the handover went well, as quite a few riders fumbled theirs. That left us another bit of exploration to do.

We headed the other direction into the forest this time, but my planned mini-route was abandoned when I found it went through somebody’s garden. We backtracked and did some more random riding along the mostly great gravel tracks till it was time to turn back and watch the race go past for the penultimate time.

We had already handed over both of the bottles that Oliver had provided, so I got ready with my own water bottle to hand over, just in case he needed it. 

The peloton going past for the penultimate time

The race then approached. First off, there were two riders in the lead, followed by a small chasing group and the peloton a minute or so back, where Oliver was still located. He motioned that he didn’t need my bottle and off they went on their final lap.

For our final mini-ride, Colette and followed the riders off down the B7027 for a bit, making sure to pull over when we could hear any stragglers approaching us from behind. Then we turned into the forest once more and made our may round and up again, to rejoin the race route back at the finish line.

No need for bottles now, Colette and I stationed ourselves on opposite sides of the road to take photos of the riders coming in for the final sprint…

First to appear was number 21, Logan Maclean, who had got himself a clear lead and cruised to victory with his hands aloft. A little later, the chasing bunch appeared, already engaged in their final sprint. I was amazed to see Oliver among them, after having bridged over from the peloton. 

The final push!

Colette and I screamed encouragement as he closed in on the finish line, although it was clear that the effort to bridge over was telling and he was struggling to hold his place in the sprint.

We rushed over after the finish to say well done, and try to work out what place Oliver had finished in. Looking at my photos, he must have been at least 8th, which left him speechless. He had no idea he could do so well in such a big race.

In fact, it turned out that Oliver finished in 7th place, giving him his biggest haul of points to date, and propelling him well into category 2! We were delighted for him, and he was buzzing too, having gone from beginner racer to 7th best in the country in just a few months!

Some of our most memorable rides over the past few years have been gravel rides, but they have been off the cards for a while, due to Colette’s broken wrist. She rode into that fateful pothole back in February and it took a long time to heal fully. She has been able to get out on her bike after the first 8 weeks of healing, but anything bumpy was too painful to bear.

However, over time, this has got gradually better, and I helped things along by changing her tyres to tubeless so we could run them at a lower, more comfortable pressure, as well as changing her stem for a suspension one (Redshift). Both made a good difference, and she finally felt confident to take on today’s route that I planned back in April.

The idea was to ride through Glen Almond, which is about 12-13 miles of gravel track. My research seemed to show that it was a fairly benign, well surfaced and not too steep track although a couple of miles of it looked to be just grass, which could mean getting off and pushing for some of it.

Anyway, it is all part of the fun, so we set off for our start location of Kenmore on a lovely sunny Sunday morning, with next to no traffic at our early departure time. The only thing delaying us was several fruitless circuits of the back streets of Aberfeldy looking for, and failing to find, their mythical Publicly Available Toilets.

We arrived at Kenmore to find our usual parking spot full of camper vans, although a car park just along from that had plenty of spaces. We got ready and set off, with a quick detour to the toilets at the Courtyard, which had just been opened up and freshly cleaned. Now we could concentrate on the ride!

We were taking the quiet back road towards Aberfeldy, passing through Dull, where Colette was not the only one stopping for a fun photo of the sign at the side of the road. It made a nice easy-paced start to the ride, and soon we were passing through Aberfeldy. On the other side was a 1,000 ft climb, although traffic lights at the bottom meant it took a while to get into the groove. After that, I tried to keep a steady tempo and wasn’t tempted to chase after Colette when she upped the assistance level on her e-bike and shot past me into the distance!

This was an A road, so there was a fair bit of traffic, some passing a bit too close, so I was happy when I got to the top and rejoined Colette where she had stopped next to a small loch. Some photos were taken, then we headed off downhill.

The downhill was not particularly fast, as it wasn’t all that steep and we had also run into a bit of a headwind. It took us through mostly open countryside – moorland and low hills, till we finally reached a T-junction and turned right onto the A822 and through Amulree. The road undulated gradually for a while, then took on a steep descent where the entrance to Glen Almond lay at the bottom.

We turned right for the glen and then stopped to survey the road ahead. We were going straight onto a private estate road, where the only public access is by foot or by bike. Straight away we could leave the stress of the main roads behind and enjoy the peace and quiet.

The off-white gravel surface was well compacted, but still not so smooth that you’d want to take a road bike along it. We paused briefly moments after starting along the track to let an estate 4×4 go past, and watched its dusty trail blow away into the distance as we set off in slow pursuit.

I thoroughly enjoyed the sight of our gravel route snaking off into the distance surrounded on both sides by rounded, heather clad hills, with the lively River Almond’s racing water and inviting pools as a constant companion to our left. No jaw-dropping craggy cliffs but just pleasant, restful scenery, which just went on and on.

We passed a couple of farms along the way, one of which appeared to specialise in the supply of grouse. We certainly saw plenty of the birds along the way, and were glad that we made the trip before the shooting season opens, when I bet things get a bit busier.

I could hardly believe how gently the track climbed as we headed up the glen, but as we got higher, we inevitably had the odd short steep section to negotiate. Colette would have struggled without the e-bike, which allowed her to ride up with ease. Unlike me!

We stopped after one such rise to take a breather and also break out the tuna rolls that Colette had prepared earlier. Tuna mayo on a soft sub roll is so tasty and so easy to eat when you need to refuel on a gravel ride, and is now an essential whenever we venture too far away from any cafes.

As the track got more lumpy, we started to find little splash throughs and burns to ford. Mostly easy enough, but a couple needed Colette’s bike to be carried safely across, as we didn’t want to risk getting the motor wet.

Then the gravel track ended abruptly, as I’d seen from satellite view, turning to a grassy track. It was still fairly flat for the most part, but grass is much slower to ride on, and I was restricted to my bottom two gears going along that. The grass track took us gradually uphill towards the head of the glen, which is marked by a boarded-up house/bothy at Dunan. 

As we closed in on that, we came across an embankment with a short, steep slope leading up to it. I though I’d have a go at riding up it and started pedalling hard. I made it up to the top, well my front wheel did anyway, then I stalled. So I put my left foot down but there was nothing there, and I toppled sideways onto the grass. I felt a couple of knocks from the bike landing on top of me but thought nothing of it, till I noticed the pedal had taken a bite out of my right shin and it was starting to bleed.

Luckily I had some plasters with me, so I rinsed the wound with water from my drinking bottle then put on a plaster. I was happier having it covered up when splashing through stagnant puddle water.

After Dunan, the grass gave way to gravel once more, and there was just one small rise to ride up before we could see down the other side, with Loch Tay way below in the distance.  

The downhill from there was a lot of fun until we reached Claggan farm. After that there was a seriously steep descent, which was best tackled cautiously. That took us to a bridge, and beyond that, the surface returned to tarmac. The descent that followed was still steep, but with better grip assured, it was less scary.

We finally reached a T-junction with the Loch Tay south road at Ardtalnaig and paused to shake our cramping hands out. A lady was busy doing her recycling at the wheelie bins across the road from us, so Colette asked if she wouldn’t mind topping up her water bottle. She kindly obliged, and then we set off east, towards Kenmore.

There were a few more undulations to deal with before the end of the ride, and I did my best to keep up with Colette on the uphills, but never quite made it. There were also some fast and safe downhill bits to enjoy as well, then eventually we reached the end of Loch Tay and the start of Kenmore.

We packed the bikes away feeling great after a wonderful day out, and got some ice cream to cool down. The town was now thronged with day trippers and the road back much busier. Then we reached the A9 and the traffic was at a standstill. No breakdowns or accidents to blame, just so much traffic. The journey back was interminable, leading us to swear never again to venture over the Forth for a day trip on a Sunday in the summer.

We were back in Aberdovey for another family get together, along with our bikes of course. Over our previous visits, we have discovered most of the local roads, so I was looking for somewhere a bit further off to explore. There were also a couple of extra considerations to take into account while route planning…

Firstly, was Colette’s wrist. She had broken it when riding into a giant pothole in February, and now, four months later, it was still giving her problems. After a couple of hours cycling, even wearing a splint, it would start to get painful. So we couldn’t go for much more than that, even with a lunch break factored in.

Secondly, we had to take the range of her e-bike into account. That would be about 45 miles distance or 3000 ft of elevation, whichever came first, in order to leave a bit of charge in reserve for emergencies.

Reading somewhere that Lake Vyrnwy was considered to be Wales’s most beautiful lake, it looked like a good destination. The plan was to ride there from Llanuwchllyn, do a loop of the lake including a stop near the dam for lunch, then retrace our steps to the start. According to the route planer, that would be come in at approximately 30 miles distance and 2900 ft of elevation. Perfect!

On arriving at Llanuwchllyn, we parked near the little railway that runs 4.5 miles alongside Lake Bala to the town of Bala. We had a nosey around the station, then set off on our ride.

Fairly quickly, we hit a steep ramp going out of the village, before turning right onto a single track road. This was steep in places too, as it undulated for the first couple of miles. We then hit the climb proper just as it started raining. I stopped and put on my waterproof, then we cycled on through lightly wooded hillside. Just as we left the trees behind, the rain stopped and the sun illuminated a stunning view of the steep-sided little valley, with a farm nestling in the centre. 

After photos, we carried on upwards, with the gradient staying steady till close to the top, when it ramped up a bit more. At the top, we stopped for a mini-snack before heading down the other side.

A 17% gradient sign heralded a steep descent, from which we took a left turn after a few hundred yards, while the “main” road appeared to plummet even steeper into the valley beyond.

Our turnoff took us on an undulating narrow ribbon of road across exposed moorland, before dropping down into a valley. We had been benefitting from a tailwind so far, and I wondered how hard it would be climbing back up after our visit to the lake. 

The descent to Lake Vyrnwy continued in steep steps, gravelly in some places, and by the time we got to the bottom, I was seriously not looking forward to going back up! We had arrived at a junction at the lakeside, where we were intending going anticlockwise towards our lunch stop. There was also a sign pointing left saying Bala was just 10 miles away.

Lake Vyrnwy

That got me thinking about an alternative, where we would head to Bala for a later than planned lunch, followed by the short cycle back alongside the lake. I tried my best to plan out the alternative route with the available “G”s and it came out as less elevation than our original plan. It was decided then, it surely couldn’t be as hard as the way we came.

So we ended up not doing the full circle of the lake. To be honest, we couldn’t see much of it was we rode along, just glimpses through the trees. I’m fairly sure you would need a drone for the best views. At least we had a respite of a mile or so of completely flat riding on the clockwise route round the lake till we reached the Bala turnoff.

The road was again single track, but with a few more passing places than our road in, and with a fair bit more traffic. It started off easily but soon we hit some hard kickers of climbs. Stopping for oncoming traffic on those steep sections made it impossible to get going again, so both Colette and I were forced to push for a short distance.

One good thing about our hastily revised route was that we were going through woods for most of the climbing, which meant we hardly felt any headwind. The uphill finally ended just as we came out of the woods, leaving us a long, easy descent to Bala, with the exception of a really steep ramp at Rhos-y-gwaliau.

When we reached Bala, the sun was shining and the place was full with Saturday afternoon cyclists. We stopped at a cafe and had a tasty, filling and pretty inexpensive lunch. Wales definitely is a more pocket-friendly place to visit than Scotland!

After lunch, we rode back out of town and past the Bala railway station as we turned onto the B4403. This road made for an easy short ride back to the car, running alongside the tracks and even giving us a view of the train as it passed, and Lake Bala beyond.

As we reached the end of the ride, Colette’s bike was flashing red, which she found quite alarming, but by the time we reached the car, there was still 18% left from a full charge at the start. This was the most charge that she has used on a single ride. The climbing had been quite taxing at times, but using the e-bike made it possible to contemplate this route, which would have been a big no-no on her normal bike.

This particular Saturday had a great forecast, and with so much wet weather recently, we made sure to spend it out on the bike. As to deciding exactly where to go, we didn’t have much of a problem with that, as Oliver had a race in the Peebles area, and we volunteered to take photos.

The race in question was the Peebles CC 55 mile road race, for category 3/4 riders. As Oliver has only just started racing, he is on the lowest rung, category 4. He needs a few good finishes, or maybe even a win, to get him the requisite points to move up to the next category. He had a good feeling about this one, as the more experienced cat 2 riders were excluded from entering, giving him a better chance of a good finishing place.

The race itself covered two and a bit circuits of a larger 22 mile lap starting at Broughton, followed by one and a bit laps of a smaller circuit, ending in a climb up the narrow road to Dreva.

I devised a plan to ride down towards the route from Peebles, where if everything went to plan, we should get four opportunities to snap photos as the racers went past. So we started off from the car park at the west side of Peebles, heading west at first, then turning southwest onto the Stobo road. I was riding my gravel bike, mainly for the carrying capacity of the saddlebag for our picnic, and Colette was on her Ribble e-bike.

We were lucky that she was able to ride the e-bike, which is now her preferred bike, as it developed a fault recently. The hub had began sounding very rough indeed, which was disappointing as it is only 6 months old, with minimal use, due to Colette herself being out of action for over two months with her broken wrist. To be fair, Ribble did say they were willing to consider a repair under warranty due to the low mileage, but we simply didn’t have the time to box it up and send it off for an unspecified period of time, as we had planned cycles coming up.

All the repair shops we called had at least 3 week waiting lists, so I decided to have a go at replacing it myself. It wasn’t cheap, at £80 for the replacement hub and another £80 for the tool to replace it, but with a bit of effort and some patience I managed to fix it. Phew! Worth it to have the bike back up and running so quickly.

Anyway, we were on our way to meet up with the race when we saw the first of the motorbike outriders coming towards us. We had reached the entrance to Stobo castle, so we stopped and got the iphones out. As the peloton arrived at top speed (there was no breakaway at this point), I tried to take photos in burst mode, while Colette took successive live pictures.  My attempt failed, while Colette was more successful. I had been so concerned about taking the photos that I didn’t even realise that Oliver was on the front of the bunch! Live photos for me next time…

We carried on past Dawyck then through Drumelzier, and stopped on the bend at the top of the climb from the bridge just beyond. The climb would slow down the racers enough to get the best quality photos. As we were waiting, we were joined by another woman whose son was in the race, and later by another rider who had done the race the year before, but was just watching for his friend this time. Both of them remarked how much better the weather was this year than at last year’s event.

Come on Ollie!

When the race arrived, we were ready with our phones, and I managed to ring a cow bell and cheer at the same time as taking successive live photos. Oliver was part of a two man breakaway, with the rest not too far behind. Our photos turned out great!

Next, we carried on down the hill, over the bridge and maybe a half mile further on before turning right onto the small road from Dreva that forms the final part of the race. We had plenty of time to climb the few miles up to the finishing point and enjoy the stunning views in perfect sunshine.

Tweed Valley looking splendid

When we got to the finishing line, there were marshalls getting everything ready. Colette and I stopped just before the finish line and propped our bikes next to a gate, before climbing over and having our picnic in the field. We were wondering whether Oliver and his companion had managed to make their breakaway stick. In fact, they did get a good gap, but then it gradually got clawed back when they hit a long flat section into the headwind, so they went back to the bunch. Oliver then got involved in another two-man breakaway later on, and they were in a good position with 10 miles to go when they were told to stop. The race had to be halted due to lack of emergency medical cover. There had been some minor crashes in the bunch and then a major unrelated traffic accident that had called on the services of the first aider. With an air ambulance being called for an injured motorbiker, the first aider had to stay and wait, and ultimately the race was cancelled.

That was such a disappointment for Oliver, as he was confident of a good finish, or maybe even the win. It was quite the anticlimax for us too, as Colette and I rode back to the car park at Peebles. However, we still had the photos to go through later, and Oliver was able to send lots of great action shots to the other guys in the race. He also has quite a few more races on the calendar in the coming months, so hopefully it won’t be too long before he starts racking up some points.

Ever since last year’s trip to Mallorca and Oliver’s first attempt at the Sa Calobra climb, he has been keen to come back and try it again. This time he set himself the challenge to become one of the elite few (hundred) Strava users who have completed the monstrous climb in under 30 minutes. To put that in perspective, there are over 139, 000 who haven’t reached this milestone.

To achieve this goal, Oliver has focussed closely on his fitness, training and nutrition, as well as garnering a host of super lightweight components to build up into an ultra-light climbing bike. Now we just had to get him to the bottom and let him go for it.

On the allotted day, we took a pre-booked taxi from our hotel to the aqueduct at the orange juice shack, a few miles short of Sa Calobra village. It was quite chilly after we exited the taxi, with damp patches on the road from some overnight rain that hadn’t yet dried out.

We set off at our own pace on the shorter Coll dels Reis climb on the inland side. I joined up with Oliver at the top, where I handed him a bag and he got rid of all kit that wasn’t absolutely necessary for his attempt into it, then stashed it in some long grass. 

The descent then started, making sure to keep it safe, and I stopped here and there for some photos. It was warmer, unsurprisingly, at the bottom compared with the top, and it looked like a lovely sunny day. We took off our descending outer layers, and I carried Oliver’s for him. I was going to carry his phone too, to relieve him of a bit of extra weight, until he realised that he wouldn’t be able to listen to music as he cycled, which was important.

At 10.05, after a final couple of photos, he was off, with me not too far behind. Then we passed the actual start of the climb and he accelerated into the distance. I pressed the lap button to keep an eye on the time, and also to monitor my own average watts during the climb, as it would be nice for me to try and beat my own personal best time as well.

At the steep part just before the viewpoint layby about a mile or so in, I had to push quite hard and noticed my average going over just over 200 watts. I thought if I could average over 190, I would stand a chance of a PB, so I was hopeful. 

The climb was pleasant in that it was sunny, but not too hot, the views were awesome as ever, there was very little traffic of any sort due to an early start, and I wasn’t finding it too much of a slog keeping the watts on target. 

I noticed the time creep up to 30 minutes on my timer then carry on to 32 and more. I wondered whether Oliver had made it, then a WhatsApp came in saying just “29.02”. He had done it, YESSSS.

I carried on with my effort, and although the watts were flagging a bit, I thought I still had enough to get my PB. At something like 45 minutes in, Oliver appeared on the descent, before turning round and catching me up. He then started with the words of encouragement, a bit like a sergeant major. It was effective though.

Rounding the steepest hairpin. Photo taken by Mallorca Cycling Photos.

After reaching the big “tie knot” turn and getting in sight of the long last straight, he shouted “Come on – 250 watts all the way to the top.” To which I gasped “I can only manage 210!”

However, when I looked down at my Wahoo, it was reading more like 250! The average started creeping up towards the high 190s. Then at the end I just went for it, seeing that I might just break 54 minutes. And I did: 53.39. Beating my old PB of 58.25.

Celebratory sub-30 minute photo!

Once I got my breath back, we headed back down to the aqueduct and we got ourselves coffees. I also thought I deserved a slice of an interesting looking chocolate waffle cake which turned out to be delicious and came with a gratuitous bounty bar balanced on top. Strange, but good!

Next we carried on past the Repsol garage and started the descent to Caimari. We were very much going against the flow, with hordes of cyclists coming up the way, and cars trying to overtake. There was one bus going the same way as us, which got stuck at a hairpin, waiting for four oncoming cars. We took advantage of a hiatus in proceedings as they looked at each other and nipped past the stationary bus. If we had waited, it would have been a very tedious descent, heavy on the brake blocks.

After Caimari, we headed for Campanet. Then Oliver decided he wanted to have a blast along the valley road, so we agreed to meet up at Bar 1919 in Puerto Pollensa for lunch.

I got there and looked for him, but Oliver wasn’t there yet. So I got a table and ordered a Coke. Oliver arrived a few minutes later, after following a bit of a detour. We ordered lunch: a chicken baguette for Oliver, and the usual for me: club sandwich.

Oliver’s meal arrived and he got started on it, but mine didn’t appear. We saw loads of club sandwiches arriving at nearby tables but not ours. It turned out they had somehow forgotten mine. Oliver was keen to get on and do more miles, and that had been my initial inclination too, but now I was scunnered. We just paid, then Oliver went his own way and I just bought a ham and cheese baguette from the Spar, which I took to my room to eat, and then relax with a beer. I was happy enough with my day and didn’t really need to do any more.

In the meantime, Oliver headed back the way and did the Coll de Sa Batalla climb, earning himself the accolade of 2nd fastest of the day, to go alongside his fastest of the day on the Sa Calobra climb. Not a bad day’s cycling I’d say.

Oh, and just to round things off, Oliver’s estimated time of 29.02 turned out to be officially 29.01. He was so close to breaking the 29 minute barrier, which did sting a little, until he remembered how much of an achievement his new PR was. Holding an average of 345 watts on that climb was epic!

Nerdy technical supplement

Oliver thought it would be a good idea to add some extra info for the benefit of anyone else who finds this and is targetting a PB on the Sa Calobra climb, specifically the sub-30 minute goal.

The general consensus is that you need to be able to hold 5 w/kg to beat the 30 minute barrier on Sa Calobra. There weren’t any 2000+ ft climbs locally to try that out on before going to Mallorca, but he had done that on Zwift, so the goal seemed achievable, barring some unforeseen incident, like getting stuck behind traffic (which was why we got there early). So the focus was on getting the watts up high enough and the weight low enough to make the equation come out to the magic 5. He made sure to be as aero as possible on the climb, and then everything else was in the lap of the gods.

1. WATTS – Oliver’s Garmin recorded an average of 345 W for the duration of the climb. Checking out his power meter pedals against his Wahoo turbo trainer before the trip, showed they were reading about 1.8% lower. These results are within the stated accuracy from the manufacturers, so it is impossible to know exactly, but he might well have been averaging as much as 351 W in reality. So his w/kg average range was 4.9-5.0.
2. KILOS – On the morning of the ride, Oliver weighed himself on the luggage scales in reception at our hotel, getting some strange looks into the bargain. All his kit was meticulously weighed too, so here is his list for the weight weenie fraternity… 
   Body weight: 70.25kg
   Bike weight as ridden including bottle with approx 100ml of carb mix: 6.6kg
   Kit weight…
   Shoes: 665g including heavy but comfy G8 insoles (100g)
   Helmet: 265g
   Glasses: 25g
   Bib shorts: 190g
   Jersey: 105g
   Aero arm warmers: 48g
   Aero socks: 50g
   Whoop: 28g
   iPhone: 262g
   Shokz open run headphones: 27g
3. THE WIND – We definitely benefited from a tailwind but exactly how much is hard to know. Oliver sent this myWindsock data for the climb.  
4. And lastly, for any more info, here is a link to his Strava activity

Colette and I settled on the Costa Blanca as our winter cycling destination this year, and chose the Cap Negret at Altea as our hotel. We had been there once before in 2017, but it has been refurbished since, and we were keen to check out the revamped cycle facilities. Colette was also hoping the food quality had improved since last time, as she didn’t have too good memories of that aspect.

Well, when we arrived, it turned out that 10 cycling teams were already in residence and the bike storage spaces were completely used up. Luckily we were allowed to take our bikes up to our room and assembled them on the balcony. Note to anyone thinking of coming here at this time of year – make sure you have all the tools to put together your bike, and ideally bring a track pump, as you probably won’t get access to the hotel cycle zone.

After getting the bikes together, we just had enough time before dark to visit the local supermercado for essentials. Next, we got a chance to check out dinner, which starts serving at a cyclist friendly 6.30 pm. Maybe it was just for the benefit of the visiting cycle teams, but the quality of the food was so much better than we remembered, with plenty of choice. Even the desserts were tasty – none of those eye-catching but completely tasteless slices of cake that we’ve had elsewhere. 

If you like rubbing shoulders with pro cyclists at the buffet, then this is the time to go. We were particularly excited to recognise the Trek Baloise Lions at a table close to us, but made a point of not bothering them during their dinner time. Or maybe we were just a bit too starstruck!

Our first day was marred with a bit of rain to start with, but it never got too bad and then stopped completely about lunch time, but we didn’t venture too far from base in case it got bad.

The race passing Colette on the Coll de Rates

The next day, we took the tram to Gata de Gorgos and rode back over Coll de Rates. I decided to see it I could beat my personal best up the climb, only to be pulled over by police close to the top, in order to let a pro bike race pass through. It was the “Classica Communitat Valenciana 1969” and in the end, was won by top sprinter Dylan Groenewegen of Team Jayco AlUla.

Sunday was a day of rest, since we had bought tickets to see the UCI Cyclo-cross World Cup race in Benidorm. It was a complete fluke that we’d booked the week that included this race, but since we’ve been avid watchers of the cyclo-cross for the past few winters, it wasn’t an opportunity that we could pass up!

We took the tram and arrived during the junior men’s race. After buying some obligatory souvies, we found ourselves a good spot, unfurled the Scotland flag and made ourselves as comfortable as possible. The flag was in honour of Cameron Mason, who we were cheering for, although to be honest, we cheered for everyone, especially those we recognised.

From top left, clockwise: Me with chopped up hot dogs and bacon on fries!; Colette sporting the flag; Michael Vanthourenhout; Wout van Aert (eventual winner)

We enjoyed the atmosphere and all the racing, apart from the moment when Cameron crashed in front of us. I hope we didn’t put him off. There’s no need for me to go into details of the races as I’m sure there are plenty of great write-ups out there already. I will just show some of the photos Colette took of the action.

From top left, clockwise: Tom Pidcock takes the lead midway through the race; Cameron Mason – come on Cam!; Tom Pidcock; Mathieu van der Poel

Right, after all that preamble, now I will get to the day of the ride in question. This was going to be a ride along an appealingly snake-like road through an area known as Pinos, leading to Port de Bernia at the summit. I decided that we would take the tram to Teulada to start, riding through Benissa before reaching the minor road into the mountains.

After leaving the tram, Strava routing quickly took us onto a busy dual carriageway, thankfully with a wide enough hard shoulder, which we used. It was a bit slow, being mostly uphill, until we reached a turnoff for Benissa. The map apparently showed us continuing on the main road though, so I stopped to look at another map to double-check. At the same time, another rider with distinctive Zwift kit paused just beyond us and I think was having exactly the same routing conundrum. 

In the end, both of us took the slip road, and followed signs to take us into the town of Benissa. The road through the town was uphill in the direction we were going, and still fairly busy with traffic, so we were relieved to finally get through and out into quiet countryside.

Fairly soon, we reached a sign describing the climb of the day that lay just ahead of us, i.e. the Port de Bernia. Zwift man had got there ahead of us and had taken his photo, so he left and we took ours. The climb is quite long at 15.2 km, but only with 2% average gradient. The climb starts out steady but not hard, then flattens out completely before a 3 km section of steep gradient, maxing out at 17% according to the sign.

Although the last bit was pretty scary sounding, I just parked it mentally and got on with enjoying the climb on a lovely sunny and calm day. I planned with Colette that I would stop every mile or so for her to catch up. That worked well, and we passed Zwift man again taking more photos of the views. Then he overtook us and we didn’t see him again.

The climb was very enjoyable, with plenty of twists and turns to keep the views ever changing; dotted with pine trees and distant mountains. After a while, we reached the flat area, and rolled along nice and easy, but sooner or later, the steep section was going to catch up with us. It did just round a sharp corner, with the road suddenly rising steeply ahead. I shouted over to Colette that the steep stuff had started, got into my lowest gear, and prepared for some hard work.

After a while, I reached the 17% section, where it was not just me who was slowed to a crawl, but other riders too. Once the gradient let off a bit, alongside the next kilometer marker, I stopped for Colette to catch up. When she appeared, she didn’t want to stop for a rest, as she had already had one further down, so we got on with tackling the remainder of the climb (still steep, but the maximum on this section was “only” 14%).

I stopped at the end of the steep stuff for my final wait. By this time, quite a few riders came past who were making a big effort up the climb. I think my shouts of “Bravo!” as they passed were generally well received, as they were certainly well deserved.

When Colette arrived, I congratulated her too, but feared she might have been thorougly sick of this climb by now. But the opposite was the case. She rated this as her favourite of the week, with better scenery than Coll de Rates for example. The good news was that we still had 2 km of the climb left, this time at very gentle gradient.

Before we reached the very top of the climb, we found a restaurant off to our right, down a short gravel path. The Bar Refugio – Vista Bernia was open and able to give us some light lunch. We had bread with aoli, cheese and ham and a small bowl of very tasty beef stew. The restaurant had a very impressive panoramic view over to the sea, although our attempts to photograph the view didn’t do it justice.

View from Port de Bernia

Next, we got back on the road and finished off the climb. There was a large group of cyclists taking a rest there and taking snaps of the views out west over the mountains. After the climb of the day came the descent. It was quite fun, but a bit more bumpy than your average road in these parts, so I took it fairly easy. It didn’t seem to take all that long before we were reaching the bottom, where the gradient eased as we approached the town of Xalo.

I checked the time, and we didn’t have a hope of getting back to the station at Teulada for the next tram. That meant we could take it easy and aim for the one after that, an hour later. So we stopped in Xalo for a leisurely coffee in the warm afternoon sun.

Cortado and Americano in Xalo

The next village we reached was called Lliber, with a very slow set of traffic lights that we remembered from when we passed through in the other direction earlier in our holiday. When they finally changed it was like a free-for-all of bikes and cars trying to get through as fast as possible.

The route I’d planned on Strava had 3 more smallish hills to cover, totalling about 600′ between them, taking us to and through Benissa. The roads weren’t as bad as the way out, but still quite busy with traffic and not too scenic. I would definitely work on improving the route if we were to do it again.

When we got to the top of the last hill, I told Colette it was downhill all the way from here. It usually isn’t, but the last 2 miles were a lovely easy freewheel back into Teulada, where we arrived with 15 minutes to wait for the tram. We admittedly did spend quite a bit of time waiting for and riding trams back and forth on this day, but it was well worth it, as I don’t think we would have had it in our legs to reach the Port de Bernia by bike alone.

I would definitely recommend the tram as a way to extend your cycling range for a couple. There is an apparent max of 4 bikes per tram, and we reached that on one of the tram rides this week, so you aren’t guaranteed to get on. Best go out with a plan B in case the tram is full…

With a good looking forecast for the 29th, Colette and I decided to head out for a bike ride. Oliver suggested we join him for a gravel ride up to Bowbeat wind farm, and Colette was keen, as it gave a chance to try out her new e-gravel bike off-road for the first time. She hurriedly got a pot of soup on the go first thing, then we headed off in the car over the Granites to get parked fairly close to the turnoff for the wind farm.

Oliver, on the other had, cycled all the way from home, as he needed the extra kilometres for his Rapha Festive 500. We met up then turned right, away from the Innerleithen road and towards Leithen Lodge. It was the first time that Colette had seen it, and she was very impressed by the orange-painted Arts & Crafts style house, which immediately became her favourite.

After the obligatory photos, we carried on, away from tarmac and onto forest gravel roads. It was pretty flat to begin with, although there were plenty of rain-filled potholes to dodge along the way. I felt that I was having to try a bit harder than normal, following Oliver, and Colette on her power assisted bike.

Oliver has really taken to riding gravel in the forests, as it gives a more sheltered ride during really windy weather when he might otherwise be forced to stay home on the turbo, and also because there are a lot of long, steady climbs to train on. The particular one he chose for us today is known on Strava as the “Bowbeat windfarm main climb”, and is 3.78 miles long, with 1001 ft of elevation at an average 5.0% gradient.

Once we reached the start of the climb, Oliver zoomed off, while Colette and I stopped fairly quickly for a photo opportunity. Colette set the assistance level on her bike to maximum and set off, soon to become an orange dot in the distance, which disappeared around the corner not to be seen for quite some time.

The weather for our ride didn’t turn out as we might have expected from the forecast. No clear skies, but instead low cloud with occasional fine drizzle. At 1-2 degrees C it was a bit colder too, but I certainly didn’t feel it on the climb, and had to unzip to let out steam!

One thought that worried me a little was that Colette, being in between me and Oliver, and without the assistance of a route map, might take a wrong turn. There is zero phone reception in this forest, so getting lost might not be easily remedied. Luckily, there were road signs pointing out the way to the wind farm, which happened to be the route we were using, and Colette duly followed them. 

As I approached the top of the climb, the gradient got that bit steeper, sitting around 10% for a lot of it. I was slogging along at a cadence of about 50 in my lowest gear, wishing I had a couple more lower gears to make things easier. It was a relief when I reached the top, alongside the first of the wind turbines, where I stopped for a rest and to get my bearings.

Although I had no idea where they were, Oliver and Colette were stopped maybe a quarter of a mile further on and could see me. They had continued that bit further, since Oliver wasn’t sure exactly where the Strava segment ended. Colette gave me a call (there is phone reception on the plateau of Bowbeat Hill) and told me to keep on going.

We joined up and took a little time to enjoy the scenery and take a few photos. Colette was buzzing, really happy with her new bike. She wasn’t entirely convinced with the bike for road riding, making her go just little faster overall than on her normal bike. But with these gravel climbs, it has made the difference between making it up and having to get off and push. It means she can get much more out of the off-road riding. 

From our vantage point at about 2000 ft elevation, we could see way to the north, over Midlothian and the Forth to the hills of Fife. To the south however, the top of Glentress forest was shrouded in cloud, so better photos will come on a return visit on a clear day. One feature that stood out very clearly though, was a short but unbelievably steep climb on the road ahead. Oliver said yes, we are going that way…

On my one and only previous visit to the wind farm, I had made my way up from the other direction, and so met this hill on the way down. It was so frighteningly steep that I wanted to stop the bike and walk down, but it was too late by that time, and my attempts at braking just locked up the wheels and started me skidding on the loose gravel. If I’d managed to stop, I would probably have gone over the handlebars it was so steep. So I had no choice other than to let go of the brakes, hold on, and hope for the best. Luckily I made it down, very quickly, in one piece.

This time, I made it up safely but much more slowly, by pushing the bike up alongside Colette. Meantime, Oliver powered up and reached the top just 2 seconds slower than the fastest recorded time for the climb!

After all that exertion, we had now reached the point where we could “relax” on the descent. It certainly wasn’t a particularly technical descent, but common sense dictated that you had to be on the lookout for patches of loose gravel and the like that might otherwise catch you by surprise. I would actually say that this route was one of the least technical gravel rides that I’ve done, and is easily suitable for any beginner (and that’s where I’d rank myself at my current level of practice).

We reached the flat section again and passed a group of cyclists mending a puncture. They indicated that they had it under control, so we waved and carried on past the lodge and back to the car, leaving Oliver to continue his own ride home. By the time he caught up with us, we were showered and had the soup warmed up just in time for lunch. Perfect timing and a perfect way to warm up after a very enjoyable ride.