Cycling in Midlothian (and elsewhere)

Today’s ride saw a bit of a change of tack, with us leaving the quiet roads behind and heading through quite a tally of towns and villages in order to get to the coast and back. The tantalising early morning sun disappeared behind the clouds just before we set off and it stayed dull most of the time, but at least we avoided any rain.

So we started off by heading through North Middleton in the direction of Borthwick. The wind was at our backs and we found we were riding a couple of gears higher than usual. Sadly, this was as much help as we got from the wind all day.

We zoomed down into Borthwick, then crawled up the other side, following the road as far as Mossend, where we turned right onto the B6372, then took the next left. This was another climb, taking us to the highest point of our trip, where we stopped to say hello to a field full of mini-pigs, who all wanted some attention. Well, all except one misbehaving pig, but the less said about him the better.

Happy as a pig…

We then enjoyed a nice long downhill stretch until we met up with Mayfield. We continued to freewheel down through Mayfield until we turned right onto the B6482, heading for Dalkeith. At the traffic lights, we briefly headed right up the A68 before turning left into a housing estate and following the road down and right, towards the Dalkeith High School campus. Here we were aiming to pick up a cycle path, which is part of the National Cycle Route no 1. After a little reassurance from the map that I had actually gone the right way, we continued along the path, and the signs we subsequently passed confirmed that my nose was indeed pointing in the right direction.

It was quite a strange experience using such an unfamiliar route to join up places that we know quite well, and it was certainly preferable to tracing the route we usually go by car. We soon arrived at the east side of Whitecraig, where we had to rejoin the road and cycle along to the west of the village, taking a right turn at the mini-roundabout. We followed this minor road for a few hundred yards, then we were off again onto another cycle track, which led down to the side of the River Esk. After a while, Colette had to stop me following the NCR route 1 sign pointing across a utilitarian and slightly decrepit-looking bridge, reminding me that we were actually heading for Musselburgh. So we carried on following the path along the east side of the Esk.

At some point, I realised that my hands were smelling strongly of pig, so we had a short stop so that I could wash my hands in the river, which I did under the gaze of a pair of swans.

We left the path behind as we entered Musselburgh, where the Esk flows its last half mile or so before being lost to the sea. Rejoining it involved getting onto the busy main road for a while and negotiating some traffic lights, before taking a left down a side street and back to the tranquility of the river bank. We paused on the path right at the mouth of the Esk to look at all the swans – I counted about 130!

Here we temporarily joined the John Muir Way as we followed the sea wall. Unseen to our right were the Musselburgh lagoons, the race course and what is reckoned by some to be world’s oldest golf course. Dominating the skyline to our left however was Cockenzie Power station, which closed down recently, and beyond that the familiar cone-shape of Berwick Law.

Berwick Law and Cockenzie power station

Cormorant

After a bit of confusion about the route of the path, we left the wall, rejoined it, then followed the path as far as Prestonpans. Our next landmark to locate was the station, which was thankfully well signposted, requiring a right turn away from the coast road and uphill. In planning the route I had spotted a minor road just before the station leading towards Tranent.  We found it on the second attempt and followed it, up over the A1 dual carriageway, then we turned left along a footpath. This intersected with a paved path heading quite steeply up to Tranent, and we turned right to follow it.

We were deposited quite close to the middle of Tranent, where we had to get back into the traffic flow. Before long, a Greggs came into view, so we stopped to pick up some lunch. This time we asked for a carrier bag, which I hooked over my handlebars and off we rode, looking for a nice place to eat. Well, we took the Ormiston road and we left Tranent behind without finding anywhere suitable to stop. However, there was a nice bench waiting for us in Ormiston, opposite the cross. Around the bench there was a strong smell of spilled beer and fags, but without any physical evidence for them, and it was certainly not enough to put me off my steak bake and chocolate doughnut. They were gone way too quickly!

Ormiston Cross

A couple of ladies passed, saying hello and commenting that the rain can’t be far away. As we still had about 12 miles left, that got us back into our saddles and off in the direction of the A6093. Once we reached the main road we turned right, but after about a mile, we turned left to take some carefully chosen minor roads to avoid the A-road traffic. What I hadn’t realised was that the next right turn was on a blind bend, and I had a close shave when a car came round at speed while I was halfway across.

We followed this road to the B6367 and continued for a while till we came to a crossroads and I stopped to consult the map. Colette noted that the cottage on the corner was displaying a sign offering “visceral manipulation” and she asked if I was interested in giving it a try. I said I wouldn’t have the guts for it. She wasn’t impressed, as usual.

Turning right at that crossroads, we next came upon a hugely impressive pine with massive girth and a very unusually-shaped branch which headed out towards the road before turning vertically upwards. We slowed down, then an even more impressive set of gates came into view. This was the Lions Lodge at the entrance to Preston Hall. It looks as if the lion on the left is about to take a penalty against the one on the right!

One of Preston Hall’s footballing lions

Our next turn was right, which took us uphill till we met the busy A68 once more. We turned right, past the Stair Arms, then left onto the Vogrie road. From there it was back to our more familiar routes, but we went a bit slower than usual, mainly down to a significant headwind. In fact, Colette slowed down so much while going up one steep section that she stopped completely and fell over. She managed to pick up her bike and get back on just in time to be overtaken at speed by an eager young cyclist, who seemed to be having no issues with this particular hill.

The threatened rain never materialised and soon we made it back home after a round trip of 32.8 miles, completed at a leisurely 9 mph. We had just cycled to the seaside and back. Who’d have thought!

In an attempt to gradually increase our range, we decided on a trip to Innerleithen, which would be over 30 miles there and back. We had previously been a bit afraid of the prospect of this ride due to the amount of climbing involved, but it was about time to test our mettle on the pedal and just get on with it.

We started out by going up the A7 from North Middleton as far as the Innerleithen turnoff, turning right, then just carrying straight on along that road to our destination. Certainly no navigation worries there! As for the weather, it was calm and fairly cool, which was ideal.

The road climbed very gradually until we reached the base of the Moorfoot hills, then turned right and continued at a slightly steeper, but still pretty gentle gradient along the hillside. Bit by bit the gradient increased until by the time we had done 4 or 5 miles, we were quite high above the moorland, with a great vista over to Edinburgh, the Forth and beyond. After a brief breather, we carried on into the Scottish Borders and past the “highest point on the road” signpost.

From there, we speeded up along a flat section until we were into a fast descent. That took us all the way to the Heriot turnoff, but then started to climb again after that. I’ve learned to pace myself better now, and just went into a low gear and kept pedalling steadily, enjoying the ride. There was a bit of a nervous moment when a wood lorry came thundering towards me at high speed, allowing me just 3 feet of my side of the road. I guess I’ll get used to that sort of thing eventually!

Apart from the lorry incident, the road was pretty quiet, and all we could hear was the sounds of curlews and lapwings. At one point we passed a family of grouse hiding in the verge who all suddenly took flight as I approached, giving me quite a start.

Cycling through the Granites…

Descending again, we came alongside the Leithen Water to our right, past familiar picnicing places. This area, which everyone round here calls the Granites (but I have no idea why) is a popular destination on sunny summers days, and our kids have spent many a happy hour playing in the water. However today it was deserted and we sped onwards down the road, stopping only for a lazy sheep who was in no hurry to get out of the way.

…then through a golf course

A 9-hole golf course straddles the road on the final approach to Innerleithen, and Colette stopped here for a few shots before we carried on to the town centre. It’s a nice change to visit places like Innerleithen where the familiar chains are replaced by small, presumably long-established local family-run shops. So instead of a Greggs, we stopped at John Adam’s Bakery for a sausage roll (Colette), a bridie (me) and two cakes (I don’t know what they are called, but they are sort of macaroony, biscuity, snowbally things that were a complete revelation and call for a return visit just to buy more…).

We decided to follow the signs to St Ronan’s Well to eat our lunch and found a short but very steep hill to climb just before getting there. After scoffing our lunch (it was 11:15 but we couldn’t wait any longer!) we had a look around the attraction. Apparently St Ronan forcibly ejected the Devil from Innerleithen back in the dim and distant past, and this is remembered to this day in annual pageantry. What a great little place. We wandered round the well gardens, used the loo and sampled the well waters using the tap provided. If I had my head screwed on, I’d have topped up my water bottle there too.

Water from St Ronan’s well

Then it was back on the road and time to reverse our route, which is never quite as satisfying as a circular trip, but we decided that 34 miles directly there and back would be quite enough. The climbs on the way back were completed at a fairly slow pace, enlivened by a bit of intimidation from lapwings as we passed closer to their nests than they would have liked. Eventually we reached the final long descent to Middleton. We arrived back in surprisingly good shape considering this was our longest trip to date, with a total of over 2300 ft of climbing, and we even went out for a short ride later, taking the day’s total to over 40 miles. So that bodes well for our goal of 50+ miles in a day.

Poring over maps of the local roads, I found another track that looked very interesting, running through the Moorfoot hills near Fountainhall. It did look a little steep in places, but no problem – we could always turn back if it got too hard.

So on a lovely calm, sunny day, we set off heading south up the A7 after leaving North Middleton. We climbed steadily for a few miles, then picked up more speed as the road leveled off a bit after leaving Midlothian and entering the Scottish Borders. Around about this point, I was spotted by a herd of bullocks in the field to my left, one of whom decided to make a race of it. Soon all 50-odd were thundering alongside me, like something out of a cowboy movie. It was so exhilirating, I couldn’t resist shouting “yee-ha!”. The field seemed to go on for quite a distance, but sadly the fun was brought to an end by the fence, and soon we were leaving the cows behind and turning away from the A7 into Heriot.

Shortly after passing through Heriot, we took a left signposted for Fountainhall. This part of the road is quite up and down, in contrast to the A7 and the Borders Railway line, which run parallel on the left, taking a more level path. After a pleasant few miles, we arrived at a junction marked “Pirntaton” and turned right. From this point, the theme of uphill and more uphill began. It was gentle enough at first, so we could wave and smile sweetly to the occupants of one of the houses we passed, out enjoying the warm sunshine. But the gradient got harder as we progressed and became a bit of a slog. After we reached a cattle grid, the road surface changed from tarmac to farm track, albeit a fairly good one, and the scenery changed from farmland to moorland. We took the right fork there towards Over Shiels farm, where the track takes an abrupt right turn then heads mercilessly uphill. It was a slog getting up, and so we took a well-earned break in front of the gate at the top of the climb.

A lovely day for a bike ride!

The sign on the gate said “Private road” but all that means now is no cars – freedom to roam made us confident enough to open the gate and venture onwards by bike. The outlook from this point was stunning and gave a good view of the track winding its way around the hillside.

Don’t stop pedalling or you’ll get wet!

A ford lay in wait for us at the bottom of the first downhill, which I promptly got stuck in, soaking my trainers! Remember to change down gear BEFORE entering a ford in future… Colette sailed through unscathed.

As we continued along the track, the view was constantly changing and more of the road ahead could be seen. At some points it looked really daunting, but we managed to ride up most of it, taking a few breaks for breath. However, it all got too much for us after we passed the turning for Trously and hit the really steep section heading up towards George Wood – I don’t mind admitting that we pushed the bikes up that.

Daunting…

The wood itself is a lonely and stunted-looking plantation at the top of Mount Main at around 1700 ft. We paused alongside it for water (lots) and some energy-giving flapjack that Colette had made specially for the trip. We thought it was going to be all downhill from here, but around the next corner there was a sting in the tail: another really steep section to complete. I took a good run at it, but had to give up halfway up, and it was so steep and the surface so loose that there was no way I was getting started again. A final stint of pushing was therefore required.

View from the top

Once at the top, we had a great view northwards towards Edinburgh and beyond. We also could make out the road (B7007) from Innerleithen heading in the direction of home, and meeting up with that road was our next aim. We set off downhill, but soon discovered that the gradient was too steep to ride safely and we were promptly back on foot again, pushing downhill until the path was a little less steep. Pretty soon we were at the bottom of a gully, crossing two fords and approaching a fork in the road. The left fork headed in the general direction of the Innerleithen road, but my memory of the map (which I stupidly left at home) was to turn right. After heading left and doing about half a mile of going back uphill, I realized that we were going the wrong way and headed back for the alternative route. This was a good call, as not only was it the correct road, it was also much more fun, winding left and right, down into fords and back up again.

Eventually we reached a farm and could see the main road (B709) beyond. Pretty soon we had got through the farm and up to the road. We were exhausted by this stage – it was all much harder than we had expected, but the point was that we had actually done it. Our original intention was to go on to the B7007 Innerleithen road and turn right, heading north uphill towards home. But we just couldn’t face the thought of that climb, so instead we returned (very slowly) via Heriot and the A7.

That came to a total of 26.6 miles in a not very impressive sounding 4 hours – that is less than 7 mph overall! MapMyRide told us that was a total climb of 1341 ft, but I’ve since started using bikehike.co.uk, as it is generally thought to be more accurate for mapping routes, and that came out at 2041 ft, with gradients reaching 20%. I can believe that and I’m glad we did it, but we won’t be repeating it in a hurry!

Quite recently we heard on the local news how some cyclists had saved a woman from drowning in Threipmuir Reservoir. I have to admit that I had no idea where that was, so I looked it up and found out about a network of cycle paths going round and over the Pentlands and surrounding reservoirs (including Threipmuir). This was something we just had to try for ourselves…

On another lovely calm, sunny June morning, we packed the bikes of the back of the car and drove them as far as the car park just up from the Flotterstone Inn, at the west side of the Pentland Hill Regional Park. We set  off uphill, heading towards Glencorse Reservoir, which soon appeared on our left. Anglers were out in numbers on the water, which was calm and reflective.

Boat fishing on Glencorse Reservoir

We pressed on further up the glen, and after a short climb we came to the dam end of the next reservoir, Loganlee. The anglers were out in force here too, but the difference here is that bank fishing is permitted. Since the bank is right next to the road, it is important to make sure that nobody is casting as you go past, or else you risk getting a fly in the ear! Indeed, the telephone lines running along the right side of the road are festooned with the results of wayward backcasts.

The Green Cleuch

Going beyond Loganlee, we followed the road till it ended next to a house, then became a path which ran along the bottom of the Green Cleugh: a narrow valley between Hare Hill and The Pinnacle. The track took us through a burn and climbed gently between the peaks till we came out on the other side. We abruptly left the moorland behind and entered an area of grassland, grazed by sheep. The path here was quite twisty and undulating, putting a big smile on our faces as we made our way through, finally stopping at a gate. We had reached Bavelaw, where there is apparently a castle although it wasn’t visible from our position. A proper road was waiting for us on the other side of the gate, and also a warning to cyclists not to go too fast down the hill that lay in wait! We then proceeded at a respectable pace down the straight tree-lined road in the direction of Threipmuir Reservoir, and paused for a break on Redford Bridge that runs across the water.

We then took the path that runs through Redford Wood till we came alongside Treipmuir once more and followed it to the next reservoir, Harlaw. Instead of taking the paved path here, we followed our noses along the rough path that ran through the strip of wood alongside the reservoir. Bumping over roots and dodging branches, this was good fun! We then rejoined the proper track and carried on to the end of the reservoir. Here I wasn’t all that sure where to go next. We took a very inviting path going to the right, that ran around the north end of Harlaw Reservoir until we came to a wall, and looking over it we could see the track that we were aiming for, which ran back up over the Pentlands once more. Rather than climbing the wall with our bikes and going cross-country, we reversed our track back to Harlaw dam and went the direction we should have in the first place. This ran briefly along a road to a car park, from where our route was signposted.

Stopped for lunch

The track ran through the middle of a wheat (I think) field, then climbed onto moorland, heading upwards into the hills once more. We stopped here for a spot of lunch, then got back into the saddle for the hardest part of the day’s outing as the track got steeper and steeper. We were down to a crawl at one point, then unfortunately Colette’s front wheel skidded from under her as she went over a slippy plank of wood, causing her to fall. Despite the slow motion nature of the incident, she picked up quite a bit of bruising to her wrist, and her palm took a sore hit. So we carried on, but a bit more warily.

Once we reached the top of the pass, we had a great view back down to Glencorse Reservoir and beyond, but first we had to negotiate a steep and very rough track through the Maiden’s Cleugh. I managed to do most of it in the saddle, but with lots of braking. It was past exhilirating and into outright scary territory! Colette walked her bike down most of the way, as her injury made it difficult to grip the brake lever. Amazingly, one guy passed at speed us on his up, which we found very impressive!

Near the bottom of Maiden’s Cleuch

Once we were back on the road, it was just a quick spin back down the hill to the car park. It had taken us well over two hours to go just 12.8 miles, but we were still proud of ourselves for traversing the Pentlands by bike. That is something that I would have told you was way beyond my capabilities just a year ago.

Having recently discovered the existence of Fala Moor Road on the map, I was keen to build it into a route to cycle. This was going to be one of our long ones (anything over 20 miles is long to us at the moment!) so we waited for a nice day to do it, and set off at a gentle pace.

First of all, we headed up the A7 as far as the left turn onto the Fala road, then unexpectedly found a “Road Closed” sign partially blocking the road. We decided to go for it anyway, since we could always lug our bikes into a field to bypass any blockage in the road. And on the plus side, this meant that we had the road pretty much to ourselves.

As it turned out, we came across the roadworks just as they were about to begin, with a group of workmen in the middle of the road discussing a set of plans. We snaked our way through them and their assorted vehicles then turned right onto the A68.

The turnoff for the Fala Moor Road was a couple of miles further down the A68, but I thought it would be fun to take the first side-road and make a long-cut through Fala Dam and Fala Village before returning to the A68 just before the start of the Moor Road. But I hadn’t done my homework on the contours and there was quite a steep climb after Fala Dam, prompting Colette to ask why on earth hadn’t we just stuck with the main road in the first place…

In no time however, we were turning back onto the A68, then immediately right onto the Moor Road. This provides access to a small graveyard, but continues upwards beyond this, onto Fala Moor. It all looked very inviting, stretching forward to the horizon, through dappled shade from trees along the south side of the track.

Fala Moor road begins…

As we headed up, the trees gave way to moorland proper and the road surface got more basic – with a grassy centre, and stones and broken tarmac to either side. This was no real problem for our bikes, but I feel that it wouldn’t be ideal for anyone riding a specialist road bike.

On top of the world

We paused at the top of the moor, surrounded by cotton-speckled heather and sheep, for a water break and for Colette to take photos. We had picked a gloriously sunny day for our outing and everything was so peaceful. Skylarks were rising from the heather around us, tantalising us with their song, but it proved impossible to catch a single one on film. To the right was the ruin of Fala Luggie, which we had visited previously from the other side, and to the left was Fala Flow Loch.

The road meandered through a sheep field

The road then took us down the other side of the moor, through Brothershiels Farm and finally back onto the A7, where we turned left. We carried on for less than a mile before turning right into Heriot on the B709, then followed the road for a while until we reached the entrance to Borthwick Hall. We stopped there for another brief rest and a wee snack to keep us going.

For the rest of the B709, it runs alongside Heriot Water, and there was lots of bird life to be seen. When we heard a cuckoo calling, we stopped and had a good look for him. We spotted him on a wire, but as soon as we saw him, he flew off, calling. He was clearly very cautious, because he wouldn’t let us get close enough for a good look. Luckily, Colette managed to get some shots of him through her long lens, but only enough to prove that we had seen him. We were chuffed, as this was the first time either of us had actually seen a cuckoo, although we had heard plenty in the past.

Cuckoo…

After a while, we came to a T-junction, with the left turn going off in the direction of Innerleithen and the right turn taking us home. It was time for us to head home, which meant a long slow climb to the highest point of the road through the Moorfoot Hills (1348 ft, according to my sat nav), followed by an equally long, but much faster descent on the other side. We then turned left for Middleton and followed the road on past the limeworks till finally turning right and heading back home. That was a 25 mile round trip with over 1100 ft of climbing… so time for some well-earned lunch!

Before getting into the details of this trip, I need to point out that the map above contains a wrong turning, more of which later, so please don’t set out to recreate it exactly!

OK, so I thought it might be a good idea to head to Penicuik, then go back up to Rosewell via the cycle path that uses the route of an old railway line, then head back home. To realise this plan, we first headed out of North Middleton towards the limeworks, then up past them, till turning right onto the path of national cycle route 1. We headed along this familiar and very quiet road until taking the left turn just past Esperston. This road initially goes alongside the local quarry’s unusual conveyer belt; it was in operation today, although we couldn’t see anything being transported. At the end of the road, we headed right up the steep little hill to Yorkston, then turned left to go past Rosebery reservoir.

The morning had started out cool, but was rapidly warming, and with the sun coming out I was glad that I opted to wear shorts and a T-shirt. After the reservoir, we climbed back uphill until reaching the B6372, where we turned left. A couple of nice downhills were followed by steep uphills, but then the road levelled a bit, taking us as far as a sharp right turn. To go straight on would take us in the direction of Gladhouse reservoir, but turning right put us on track for Penicuik. So we continued along the road until it crossed the A6094, which heads south to Biggar. However, we went straight across, heading roughly NW towards Penicuik.

This road was nice and flat, and like all nice and flat roads in Midlothian, it didn’t last long, quickly ending in a T-junction with the B7026. We decided to turn right here, heading in the direction of Auchendinny. This was a good downhill stretch, spolied only by the heavy traffic running in both directions. After a minute or two, we took the first left (Harper’s Brae), which heads back in the direction of Penicuik. However, before reaching Penicuik, it leads to an access point to the Penicuik to Dalkeith cycle path. We stopped here for a while for some water and chocolate. The latter had been heated to body temperature in Colette’s back pack and so wasn’t quite the treat we had been expecting!

The tunnel was well lit

We made really good time heading along the cycle path. If you lived in Bonnyrigg and worked in Penicuik, you might well be quicker going by bike than car! The path cuts through some varied and interesting countryside and takes you through tunnels, across a quite high viaduct and through an old station before coming to a temporary end at the top of Roslin Glen, close to Rosewell. It was our original intention to head back home via Rosewell, but we decided to follow the cycle route on as far as Bonnyrigg, as we hadn’t cycled along that part before. This part of the path is flat, properly paved and really fast. In no time we reached a crossroads of sorts just outside Bonnyrigg, with a path to the right signposted for Upper Dalhousie. We opted to take this route, as it should be a significant shortcut, compared to going through Bonnyrigg.

The cycle path slopes gently upwards

The path to Upper Dalhousie looks like a tractor track, but it was surprisingly good, considering the amount of rain that fell the day before. The track went as far as the new Bonnyrigg bypass road and continued on the other side, although a good bit more overgrown.

Short cut to Upper Dalhousie…

This took us to a muddy road, used by lorries to access a nearby quarry. There was a signpost that pointed right, along this road. Pretty soon, there was the option of a left turn towards a farm, but here was another signpost, which indicated that we should continue along the lorry track. So that is exactly what we did. The road however just got muddier and muddier, ending at a corner in a kind of thick, gelatinous mud. Around the corner, we could see lorries getting loaded up and a sign saying No Unauthorised Entry. So we gave up on the shortcut idea and headed back to the nearest main road as soon as possible. We and our bikes were by this time covered in mud and we were feeling like it was time to call it a day.

We turned right at the roundabout just outside Bonnyrigg, heading down Cockpen Road and then taking the first right, headed towards Carrington. After a few minutes of tiring uphill cycling, we passed Upper Dalhousie and saw the signpost at the other end of the path we had unsuccessfully tried to follow earlier. (Looking it up on the map after getting home, it appears that we should have ignored the earlier signpost and headed towards the farm rather than along the lorry track. The joker who apparently moved this sign to point in the wrong direction can now have a good chuckle to himself)

By the time we reached Carrington, we had had enough. It was a bit of a slow slog back; heading first towards Temple, then turning left at the bridge, heading NE towards Gorebridge. Then it was right along the A7 for a mile or so to home, a shower and food. Our longest outing yet!

There is the ruin of what looks like an old castle on top of a hill not far from us, which Colette has tried to point out to me on several occasions while I was driving past, but it wasn’t till I went past recently on two wheels that I finally noticed it. It is referred to on the map as “Fala Luggie, Tower, rems of” and some Googling brought up mention of it being the ruins of a 16th century hunting lodge, reputedly used by kings of Scotland. So reaching it was the aim of this specific outing.

We set out on a fairly overcast day with a significant SW breeze and using the most direct route, we headed up the A7. This isn’t my favourite road, but it bypasses a killer hill at Crichton, so I just put up with the traffic whizzing by for the mile or two before we could take the Fala turnoff. That put us onto the B6458; a quieter but very potholed road that heads roughly northeast till it reaches the A68. We didn’t want to go quite that far though, and taking the right fork at Tynehead, we carried on quite speedily as far as the sharp right turn for Cakemuir Castle. Then we turned right into the wind and although we were going downhill now, it felt as if we were going up!

Soon enough we were within sight of Cakemuir Castle, a 16th century tower that has been extended and updated through the years, and is occupied as a private residence. So we couldn’t really have too much of a nosey. Instead, we continued on our quest, heading up a rough and steep farm track on the left. Pretty soon, I had to jump off my bike and push! We stopped to catch our breath where the track levelled off a bit, then got back in the saddle and slowly continued to climb the track till it came to a wooded strip of land. Here the path took a left turn into a ploughed filed. We followed it as far as possible but where the track ran out, we had to leave our bikes and continue on foot.

Alongside an apparently electrified fence, we carried on till we reached a gate and went through onto open moorland. This was quite hard going, moving steeply uphill on rough uneven ground, under a barbed wire fence, then on over heather till Fala Luggie came into sight. As we approached, it became clear that all that remained of what we had from a distance imagined to be a major ruined castle, was just a single wall with two windows. Although somewhat disappointing at first, it was possible to envisage what it might have looked like back in the days when it was being used as a hunting lodge. Its location right on top of the hill was stunning, as was the view away in all directions, from the Pentlands to the west, the hills of Fife to the north and Berwick Law and Bass Rock clearly visible to the east.

Fala Luggie tower

We paused for photos and finished off all the chocolate in my bag (must make sure it is replensihed before the next outing!). It was quite surprising to find that there were no visible paths of any sort leading away from the ruin, although we picked up a sheep track about 50 yards away from the structure and followed that back in the direction of the tree line. We then followed the trees back to the field where we left the bikes and enjoyed a bumpy fun downhill ride to the bottom of the farm track.

The rest of the return journey against the wind was a bit of a slog and it had also started raining lightly, so any thoughts of returning via Crichton were dismissed and we just went back the way we had come. I think we might do this one again on a better day to make the most of the fantastic panoramic view from Fala Luggie.