Cycling in Midlothian (and elsewhere)

Colette and I met up with Fiona, Susan and Alison for another “famous five” outing, this time starting from the spacious Sainsburys car park in Livingston. The aim was to scope out a route via Shotts to Caldercruix, then returning primarily using cycle route 75. I had forgotten to print out the route in advance, but that wasn’t a problem, as Fiona and Alison had brought maps and Alison also had the route programmed into her Garmin!

After chatting and fiddling with bits of bikes, trips to the loo and general faffing around, we set off a good bit later than planned. Then at the first roundabout, the maps came out to help decide which exit we needed to take. We ended up going southwest along Charlesfield Road, going right at the next roundabout then first left, which got us onto the B7015.  The stress levels began to ease as soon as we got onto that road, since we had left Livingston behind and were now cycling through countryside.

On approaching the sign for Stoneyburn, Alison called out to say that we were now off track – her Garmin said we should have gone right at the previous junction. So we turned around and headed back to pick up the route, with the Five Sisters looming large in front of us.

The five sisters

Our route then took us onto a quiet back road that ran through Longridge then on into Fauldhouse. That was where my mum was brought up and my grandpa ran a fish and chip shop up till the late 60s. I scarcely remember that now, as I must have been about 4 years old when they moved away and I haven’t been back at all for years.  We stopped at a shop, where Fiona bought sweeties and I asked the shopkeeper whether she had any idea where the old family shop would have been. No luck there, so we just carried on through on our route, with nowhere standing out from my memory. I suppose I will need to go back better prepared next time, and take some photos for posterity.

Paused in Fauldhouse

Leaving Fauldhouse, we found ourselves on a quiet road running through desolate moorland, brightly lit in the autumn sun, highlighting the bings that lie scattered across the landscape. Maybe it was the sunshine, or maybe because we were cycling, but this lansdcape was far from as dreary and depressing as I seemed to remember it.

After a few more miles, we approached Shotts. It had taken longer than we expected to get this far and we were in need of some lunch. Riding through, there didn’t seem to be much in the way of suitable lunch stops, so we paused at a petrol station and Fiona asked for info. Our choice was quite limited: a truck stop diner or the Healthy Eating cafe. The truck stop was closest, so we went over for a looksee. It was quite busy, but appeared to be takeaway only. Even if there were seats, the ladies didn’t like the look of the portaloo that was located outside, so we went in search of the alternative.

If any cyclists reading this want to take notes, then the Healthy Eating cafe in Shotts is reached by going north from the roundabout with the petrol station, then turning left into Kirk Road. After about 100 yards, there is what looks like an old school with a car park. The Getting Better Together Project is in the smaller building there, and has a cafe on the ground floor.

I don’t think cyclists frequent this cafe much, but we were made very welcome nonetheless and we made our choices from a varied and healthy menu (i.e. no chips!). It was also very reasonably priced! We gathered round a large farmhouse kitchen-style table and enjoyed a relaxing lunch. Come to think of it, we had been a little too relaxed so far, and after spreading the maps out across the table, it was plain that we had only progressed just over a third of the way along the proposed route. We needed to start pressing on…

Emerging from the cafe, the sun was still shining, but the wind seemed a bit stronger and there was a cold bite to it. Climbing the hill up Benhar Road helped to warm us up a little, as we headed further north. This road took us out into some bleak countryside with litter-strewn verges and quite busy with heavy lorries.

Finally, we reached a T-junction where we were going to turn left and head for Kirk O’ Shotts then on to Caldercruix via a hilly route, before turning homewards. However, there was a sign saying the road to the left was closed. As we pondered what to do, we saw another cyclist turn left and carry on, which made us think that there was still a way through. The decision was made to take a short cut missing out Caldercruix, so after following on behind the other cyclist, we took the first right (House of Muir Road). This road ran over the M8 then down past a disused quarry, which sadly seemed to be a fly tippers’ paradise. The road up the other side of the quarry was hard going, and as we emerged on the far side, we came across a farmer driving a huge flock of sheep down the road towards a farm. On going past the field from which they had been rounded up, we spied a lone sheep at the gate, left behind and baa’ing plaintively.

Sheep coming through…

Although we felt sorry for the poor sheep, it wasn’t our place to open the gate and let it out. So we cycled on slowly, gradually catching up to the woolly cavalcade. Then one of us noticed that the lone sheep had now managed to escape the field and was following on behind us. I managed to get behind it and slowly coaxed it forwards in the direction of the other sheep, which were by now penned up on the farm. This poor lamb seemed to be a bit poorly and lacking in strength. I made sure to let it go at its own pace and not get too close. Even so, after a while, it gave up the ghost and stopped beside the wall, with its head down. I decided to leave it there, and by this time, the farmer was already coming back for it, having been alerted by the others who went on ahead. It’s a hard life out on the moors.

After a while, the road went past another quarry, this one very much in use. The driver of one of the lorries wasn’t expecting us, and was still reading his job sheet as he turned left into our path. He got such a fright when he noticed us!

Our northwards progress came to a halt when we met the A89 Airdrie Road. We turned left there, then immediately right and over the railway which took us to an entrance to a very convenient cycle path running alongside the railway. This was route 75. Alison explained how the cycle path was originally constructed on the bed of the old railway, then when Scotrail decided to reopen the line, they were obliged to keep a cycle path running alongside. It’s a shame it didn’t happen that way with the Borders Railway – it would have been great to have a cycle path all the way to Gala.

Although we were enjoying the lack of traffic and the great surface, we were now experiencing a headwind for the first time. The path was exposed for a lot of its length, so our progress was a little slower than it might have been.

Route 75 continued alongside the railway for quite a while, but took a detour round the Wester Inch housing estate near Bathgate, past some ponds full of ducks and swans. The path then took us close to the M8 where we cycled past the famous grassy pyramids then over the motorway and through a marshy area which eventually led to the A77 near the outskirts of Livingston.

Yellow sheep grazing a grass pyramid

After that, we continued to follow route 75 along a network of wooded paths, mostly sunken below traffic level. I had no idea where we were, but it was great to be able to ride through the outskirts of Livingston without having to mix it with cars, or even come close to them. We emerged at Livingston Village, where we parted company with route 75. We could have gone by road back to the car park where we started, but there was still more cycle path available, which we followed right to the roundabout where we had our first map conflab back at the start of the day.

Soon, we had reached our starting point and were putting bikes back onto cars ready for the off. It had been a really nice day out, and I was particularly impressed with route 75. I really must work that into more routes in the future.

We were invited along to today’s cycle by Fiona from Lothian Cyclists, who wanted to scope out a few possible new paths with which to put together some new routes through the East Lothian countryside. Along with Susan and Alison, we all congregated at Fisherrow Harbour in Musselburgh at 10am on a sunny autumn morning.

To start with, we followed the shoreline east using the usual tracks, past Musselburgh until we got spat out back on the road at Prestonpans. We cycled through the ‘pans and past the now derelict Cockenzie power station before going left down towards Cockenzie harbour. After that, a useful combination of road and path took us along to Port Seton harbour, avoiding the main road.

Before the end of the path along the shore, we took a right turn, leading to the public loos: along with cafes, one of the most important features on any cyclist’s route map! From there, we left Port Seton / Seton Sands along the main road, looking out for a wee green sign on the right. This pointed the way, through a gate and along a footpath, to historic Seton Collegiate Church. The path was easily cyclable, and aside from going to the aforementioned church, it has been extended into a network of crisscrossing paths through the links. We followed a route which took us out onto the A198, immediately opposite a level crossing on the railway that runs parallel to the road.

As soon as we all gathered together next to the closed barrier, an Edinburgh-bound train came clattering past at high speed, after which the barriers opened almost instantly. Across on the other side, we found a quiet and peaceful minor road which led eastwards through the East Lothian countryside. It was an easy ride along this road for a few miles until we reached the Longniddy to Haddington cycle path. This path runs over the road we were on, across a bridge, following the route of an old railway. We found an access point to the path at the far side of the bridge, and joined it alongside some people who were picking sloes. Mmmm, sloe gin, yummy…!!!

I’m sure it says “you are here” somewhere…

From there, it was a familiar ride into Haddington, where we paused for a spot of map reading, at which point we realised it was nearly noon already. The aim was to get to Dunbar before turning back, and with no possible cafe stops between Haddington and there, we opted for some refreshments in the town centre first.

When we arived at Diggory’s cafe, the cake supplies were looking sadly depleted. I ordered one of the last two pieces of a chocolate cake with salted caramel filling, which was superb and gone all too quickly. After everyone was satisfied, we got back on the road and headed out of Haddington via cycle route 76. This takes the easy route to Dunbar, going past Hailes Castle, and as we approached the turnoff for the castle, Colette suggested that we could just go that way. However, even if we were feeling like taking it easy, that was not going to be possible, as the road was closed, leaving the climb up to Traprain Law as the only alternative.

The road running up along the north side of the law felt a bit easier than expected, possibly due to the westerly breeze pushing us up. The freewheel down the other side was fun too! We stopped at the next junction and the maps came out again, which was to be repeated at just about every other junction between there and Dunbar. There are so many intersecting roads in this part of the world that it is very easy to get lost.

Which way Dunbar???

The road signs pointing to Dunbar were being largely ignored, as the route was a convuluted, scenic one, taking the less busy roads, many of which I’d never been along before. Arriving at the picturesque crossroads at Pitcox, we found our intended exit to be blocked by roadworks. While some of us looked at the signpost and wondered about diversions, Fiona went over to the workmen and secured us safe passage through the rubble, with the guys pausing their noisy pneumatic machines as we went past.

What a lovely spott

From there, it was onwards and to some extent upwards, to Little Spott, where a newly finished steading conversion was perfectly located for a wonderful panoramic view of the Firth of Forth. We then passed a ford where all of us opted to walk our bikes across the bridge rather than ride through. After all, fords can be slippy (been there, fallen off, got the scab).

As we continued through Spott towards Dunbar, somehow we became the Famous Five. The allocation of characters from the books to ourselves was the cause of some squabbling. I was told I was Julian. That was fine by me, as I have very little recollection of the books, apart from having read one or two of them about 40 years ago. Or was that the Secret Seven…??? I was very impressed that Colette, Susan and Fiona could remember the titles of the books.

That kept us busy till we reached the outskirts of Dunbar, where we crossed the A1 and went past the ASDA superstore towards the town centre. Our aim here was to find a good place for lunch, ideally for a group of a dozen or more cyclists. There were a couple of cafes on the High Street, but they were very busy, and it would be hard to believe they would be willing to reserve three or more tables for a group that was going to arrive at an unpredictable time. Our next idea was to head for the Garden Path Cafe, which we had used on a previous run. We had already ruled that out for the future, as it had taken over an hour to get everyone served the last time. With just five of us today, the service should surely be a bit quicker. As it turned out, we would have had to wait till Friday to be served, as they are shut Tuesday – Thursday!

Dunbar harbour

So the last resort was to buy some food and take it down to the harbour to eat. Colette, Susan and I bought chips from the chippie and sat down on a bench to eat them, relaxing in the warm sun by the harbour wall. Alison and Fiona didn’t fancy chips, so they went off by themselves and we met up again afterwards. Another map session duly followed, after which we headed west again, out of Dunbar and along the pavement of the old A1.

We were now cycling directly into the wind but that didn’t faze Colette, who led the way at a good pace. That was just as well, as this bit of road is best got over with as quickly as possible. We then came into East Linton where I almost took us the wrong way, but for some more map reading by the side of the road. Back on the right track, we were now heading upwards out of East Linton, followed by a lovely long downhill stretch, after which we turned left along the road for East Fortune.

By this time, some of us were beginning to flag a bit, and since we hadn’t had a proper cafe stop in Dunbar, we popped into the Merryhatton garden centre for tea and cake at their cafe. The cafe was surprisingly spacious, with plenty of room for the average Lothian Cyclists crew. My Malteaser slice was full of lovely sugary calories to get me fueled up for the rest of the journey. We also got more hot water for our tea pot at no extra charge – always a plus point for any cyclist’s cafe. Cyclists are thirsty people!

Leaving our last pit stop, we headed north towards Kingston, but took a diversion to the left just before the village, which allowed us to bypass it (and some climbing) and get ourselves onto the road heading west towards Aberlady. It was rush hour as we approached Aberlady, and leaving the quiet country roads behind, we had to mix it with cars again, some of which weren’t being very patient.

We cycled along the coast road to Port Seton and retraced our steps (or should that be tyre tracks?) back towards Musselburgh. It was now late afternoon, and the sun was streaming out from behind a cloud just above Arthur’s Seat, highlighting the Edinburgh skyline. It was high tide and the sea was virtually still. The wind had now died down to a whisper. What a lovely way to complete the final few miles of our journey.

My Strava put it at just over 60 miles, but Colette’s was just under. So she made a couple of circuits of the car park to make it up to 60! It was a long day out, but thoroughly enjoyable.

Since rediscovering the joys of cycling a few years ago, I sometimes cast my mind back to when I cycled as a kid, before giving up when I passed my driving test. Nowadays I cycle much further than I did back then, when my longest ride by far (a shade under 30 miles) was a loop taking in Kippen and Fintry. I retraced that route recently with Colette and decided it would make a good outing for the Lothian Cyclists.

So on a sunny Monday morning in mid-September, a dozen Lothian Cyclists congregated at a car park in Cambusbarron (near Stirling). We set off through the village and down Touch (pronounced “tooch”) Road. Going mainly downhill from the start, it felt slightly chilly, and we would have a little way to go before the first uphill sections would appear to warm us up.

After a while, we reached the A811 Dumbarton Road, where we turned left. In my original route, we went along this road for 5 or 6 miles before turning left for Kippen. However, the main road is quite busy and also straight, flat and pretty featureless. So for this ride, I had worked out an alternative route, bypassing most of the main road, and Kippen as well as it happens.

At the first opportunity then, we left the main road and took a minor road leading to Gargunnock. A bit of positive gradient here ensured that we shrugged off any remaining chilliness, and with the sun on our backs, it was turning into a glorious early autumn day. Passing through the junction at the middle of Gargunnock, there were sounds of relief from some of the group when we took the flat exit rather than the one that goes steeply uphill. Shortly after leaving the village though, we did start going up again with a left turn at Bield Farm. We followed this road for a while, past Leckie House, then turned right onto a rough farm track. This took us to a crossroads, where we followed the sign pointing left for Kippen.

Stopping for a rest on the rough farm track

The roughness continued for about a mile in total, by which time those who had brought their mountain bike in preference to a road bike were well pleased with their decision. At the end of the track, we took the left turn onto a single track tarmacked road. This quiet road took us upwards past a succession of farms in the shadow of the Gargunnock Hills. The gradient was a little steep in places, meaning that the group got split up a bit. After a while, the leading group paused beside bramble bushes with a heavy crop of dark, ripe berries, and helped themselves to a free snack while waiting for the others.

A view of the Gargunnock Hills

Forging onwards, the road levelled off a bit, or at least became more undulating, meandering through lovely peaceful countryside, with the imposing hills overlooking us from the left. One section of the road, maybe a mile long, was gated off at either end and the road surface within was quite broken up in places. That was a small price to pay for a virtually traffic-free alternative to the Dumbarton Road.

From the far gate, there was another mile of single track till we finally returned to “proper” road, namely the B822 coming from Kippen to our north. We turned left there, heading south towards Fintry. One very notable difference from the recce trip of a few months before was the newly resurfaced road, and it was such a contrast to the neglected single track that we had just been cycling along. So it took no time at all to make a smooth descent to our lunch stop at the Courtyard Cafe, just outside the village of Fintry.

Arriving at the cafe, I was surprised to see the car park nearly full. It was hard to explain why it was so busy, just one of those things I suppose, but at least there were a couple of tables free – one inside and one outside, so we split up. I was in the outside group, and was thankful for the sun shining warmly throughout our lunch break. The staff were stretched to the limit so not surprisingly, lunch took a while to arrive. The food was great, but it was over an hour and a half from arriving till we were back on the road again. My legs took a while to wake up again after that!

We continued through Fintry then turned left to exit the village. The road was flat here for a short while, but after taking the left turn at Gonachan, we had to get our hill legs back in gear. At this point, Willie and Keith took off at the front, and were too far ahead for me to let them know that the Loup of Fintry was coming up. The Loup is a waterfall in the Endrick Water just 1/4 mile away from the roadside. A few of us made the short walk to have a look. It was very scenic but I had the feeling that with more water in the river, the whole thing would have been much more spectacular.

Carrying on, we found Willie and Keith waiting just round the next corner, after which we cycled as a group to the dam end of the Carron Valley Reservoir. At that point, I almost missed the insignificant single track road that leads off to the left. With some sudden braking, we were back on track and cycling up this quiet road into the hills.

For some reason, the climb felt harder and longer than last time. When wind turbines eventually came into sight at just about the same elevation as the road, it was a good sign that we were pretty much at the top of the hill. By that time, the group had split up and there was another stop for everyone to come back together. We were accompanied by a large cloud of midges at the stopping point, but for once they seemed more interested in staying in their cloud formation than attacking us. Strange, when you’d have thought that a dozen warm and gently steaming cyclists would have been meat and drink to them!

Red faced (well, me anyway) and ready for a rest!

After our rest, we carried on past the waterfall at Earl’s Burn, then tackled the sting in the tail – a short sharp climb taking us to our highest point, about 1150 feet. From there, the road was predominantly downhill, with some exhiliratingly fast stretches. Coming down some of them, I was thinking this is fun, but I hope there isn’t a car coming towards me round the next corner. Then I remembered feeling exactly the same thing when hurtling down the same stretch of road all those years ago, when still in primary school and riding my tiny red Raleigh RSW14.

When we reached Gillies Hill, the road skirted the side of it, involving a few short but steep uphill sections. With tired legs, these were quite hard, so it was good to be able to turn the corner at Polmaise Road and tell everyone “freewheeling back from here”. Then in no time at all, we were back at the car park again. It was a quite short ride, just shy of 30 miles, but by that time my legs were saying that was enough. Everyone seemed to enjoy it; it was a fun day out with great scenery, great weather and a great food stop. What more do you need?

The weather forecast for today was looking good, so we decided on an outing with a couple of friends from the village. The numbers then went up to five for a brief while before going back to four then finally down to just the two of us. Well, at least the forecast was still good, so we decided on a longish run, taking in Innerleithen and Peebles, and returning via the Meldons.

A dreich start to the day, looking over towards Gladhouse reservoir

As we left the house, the promised sunny intervals were nowhere to be seen, and instead we had overcast skies with a fresh southerly breeze and a steady drizzle. It was already fairly unpleasant ascending the Innerleithen road but we felt the full force of the wind on the other side of the first hill, making progress difficult. After nearly 10 miles, we were on the verge of turning back, when we caught a glimpse of sunny hillsides to the south, with the weather system being rapidly whisked away to the north. So we made the decision to carry on with our original plan.

It was sunny when we arrived at Innerleithen and we made a stop at Adams the baker for some stuff for our picnic. Also some water, as Colette had managed to leave both her water bottles back in the house. Then we made our way to the old station where the cycle path to Peebles begins.

Who knew carrots grew on trees? Somewhere in there, I thought I heard a woodpecker…

Shortly after getting going along the path, I heard a woodpecker drumming in a tree very close on my right. I gazed over at the tree to see if I could spot the bird, but didn’t realise that I was veering to the left. Suddenly I found myself on the narrow grass verge, then bashing my left arm against some cast iron railings. When I tried to brake, the handlebars whacked sideways into the railings and brought me to a stop. I was worried that I might have damaged the bike, but luckily my hand cushioned the impact and no damage was done, except to my hand that is. The index finger of my left hand was cut and dripping with blood. It was all very sore for a few moments, when I considered turning back, but then the pain subsided (probably adrenalin kicking in) and reality took hold. It was only a cut and all it needed was a plaster, so I just had to be brave and carry on as planned, heading towards Peebles.

The offending finger

We found Boots in Peebles quite easily, and Colette went in to buy a box of plasters, after which we headed over to the toilets at the car park over the bridge. I opened the box to find that instead of individual plasters, there was just one great long strip! Colette had accidentally bought the wrong type. Maybe the adrenalin had worn off by now, as I hadn’t a clue what to do next. Thankfully Colette remained calm and suggested that the man over at the burger van might have scissors, which indeed he did. With the plaster applied, I felt a big sense of relief and was re-energized to carry on with our bike ride.

So next, we followed the A72 out of Peebles into the countryside and after a few miles, turned right following the sign for Eddleston via the Meldons. The road seemed very quiet, and the number of people camping by the roadside had dwindled since the last time we passed through. Summer wasn’t totally over though, as the south wind now felt quite warm (for me, that’s mid to high teens celcius) and was at our backs, gently easing our way up the hillside. After a while, we stopped at a picnic table and got our lunch things ready. I also took off my gloves and inspected the injuries. There was surprisingly little to see, and Colette admitted that she had fully expected to see me end up sprawled across the cycle path when I first lost control. It all could have been a lot worse!

A peaceful spot in the Meldons for our picnic

With the picnic over, the sun was still shining brightly and it would have been easy to stay a while and relax amidst the perfectly quiet, purple heather-clad hills, but I was aware of the forecast warning of heavy rain returning later in the afternoon. We therefore pressed onwards, up and over the top, then descending into Eddleston to meet the A703.

Going north up the A703, Colette suggested we stop at the Scots Pine Tea Room for a cup of tea.  It was a wise decision, and we left with a spring in our step (or was that the following wind?), to help us get up the main road at a good rate of knots before turning off right at Waterheads. We climbed the hill that followed a bit slower than usual, now feeling the miles in our legs, but once we went past the access road to Portmore loch, we were on the home straight. As we cycled past Gladhouse Reservoir in warm sunshine, it struck me how silly we’d have felt if we had decided to give up in the drizzle on our way to Innerleithen. We had definitely made the best of today’s sunny weather, and it was somehow gratifying to see the rain start pelting the windows about 30 minutes after getting home.

Whilst July was mostly full of cycle-friendly calm, sunny days, August has not been quite so obliging. As a consequence, we haven’t done much of note, and even had to abandon some planned Lothian Cyclists outings. You have to stay optimistic, so I came up with another group run for later in the month, taking a route that I hadn’t ridden before. Well, I’d done it anticlockwise, but not the other way around, and the planned cafe stop in the middle was also new to me. It made sense for Colette and me to give that one a trial run when we got the chance (a brief lull between wet and windy days), and we were joined by Fiona and Susan from the cycle group, who were also getting cabin fever from lack of cycling.

The start point was the small car park near Rosewell at the top of the Roslin Glen road. We got there at the allotted time, but Fiona and Susan weren’t to be seen. We gave them 15 minutes then phoned to find out that my directions weren’t very good and they had got lost! So we drove to their location and brought them back to the starting point. As a result of that, I’ve changed the starting point for the group ride to a much easier to find location.

No matter, we had all day, and so started off just after 11am, on a calm morning with the temperature in the mid to high teens and with the sun breaking through from time to time. Perfect cycling weather in fact.

The route took us into Rosewell then out again via Thornton Road and past Thornton Farm on unpaved road before reaching tarmac again. We then turned left and headed in the direction of Edgelaw Reservoir. This brought us to the first of the day’s testing gradients – just a short steep section, but one that used to strike fear into us when we first started cycling in this area. Once that was over, it was “false flat” for a mile or so before we descended towards Edgelaw Reservoir.

Here’s us at Edgelaw not being trolls (you need to go and read the notice just behind where Colette is standing to take this photo to know what I mean!)

We cycled right up to the water and paused to take in the scene before getting back on our bikes and heading for the next one. That took us left over the bridge, where the surface had turned very muddy after the recent heavy rains. None of us even attempted the short, steep climb that followed, pushing up the muddy, gravelly track till it levelled off again. The next section of dirt track was easy, apart from the place where you have to choose whether to ride through the deep puddle or skirt it on a thin strip of dry land, and flagellate your right leg with the overhanging nettles!

Having our next stop at Rosebery Reservoir

At the end of the track, we turned right then left, taking us towards Rosebery Reservoir. We paused here too and had some snacks, as the morning was waring on but we were still a long way from our lunch stop. The water was nice and calm, and there were quite a few fishermen out appreciating the benign day, just like us.

These guys were trolling for trout

Pressing on, we climbed away from the reservoir to Yorkston, where the road to Gladhouse runs steeply down then back up again almost as steeply. The momentum certainly helps get you up the other side! Before long we were cycling alongside Gladhouse Reservoir. Susan commented to me that she never knew any of this existed, and I had to admit that even though I was local, I never really knew how all the roads linked up until we started cycling. Now we know them like the back of our hands!

After Gladhouse, we turned left and headed out across the moor. After a few miles, we paused to check out the free range chickens at Westloch; it always strikes me how contented they look. It was a bit harder to look over to the opposite side of the road, where the pens were full of well fed lambs, waiting to take the next step on their journey to our dinner plates.

We had to keep moving, so it was onwards, past the access road to Portmore Loch then steeply down (for once!) to Waterheads and the A703. We were going to ride about a mile down the A703 in the direction of Peebles before taking the first right turn. As the road was busy, we decided to ride single file in two groups of two, to help cars overtake. Although just a mile, it was quite eventful. I was at the front and wasn’t sure why the oncoming cars were beeping and flashing lights at us. Could it be that they disliked bikes that much? When we got to the calm of the side road, I found out from the others that it was the cars overtaking us in the face of oncoming traffic that caused all the bother. What’s more, when one of the cars was passing Susan, the passenger shouted “boo” loudly out of the window.  It seemed like today the roads were full of morons in cars, so we were very glad to get back on quiet roads again.

When I cycled along this section of road previously it was always from the other direction, and I thought that the ups and downs were fairly balanced. Well I was wrong! The next couple of miles was distinctly more up than down. I started to get some complaints, and “how long to lunch?”, so it was a relief when we arrived at the top of the hill leading down to Whim Farm and the A701. We fairly zoomed down that hill and turned left onto the main road.

Again, we split into two groups, but the traffic on this road was very light and not at all bothersome. We passed through Lamancha and all I could think of was “ma luncha”. Fiona screamed “cafe” as we passed, but we weren’t going to the one in the village, nor the burger van in the layby (although it wasn’t there today for some reason), but Whitmuir Organics, just a wee bit further on.

The cafe and farm shop are housed in a quite substantial new building and the car park was full. We hoped there was enough room inside for us, and yes there was plenty, as well as some seats outside, although we opted to eat inside. It was nearly 2pm when we sat down, so we had made it just in time for the lunch menu. We all opted for soup and bread, though the menu offered quite a lot of interesting options besides. Quite a “foodie” type place, with fresh, clean surroundings and attentive service. An ideal place to take your mum! Colette and I decided to splash out on the gooseberry meringue pie for pudding, which was lovely. Typical cyclists, all of us completely cleared our plates, as we needed every last calorie!

We were now 20 miles into the ride, with 13 left to go. Most of the climbing was over but there was a sting in the tail, as well as a chill in the air, when we set off after lunch. We freewheeled down towards Macbiehill to find a wall of a climb awaiting us. Susan’s chain came off at the bottom – it’s like the bike’s way of saying “no way, I can’t do that!”. The climb wasn’t very long, but it slowed us to an absolute crawl. After that, we had one more climb of note before reaching the road to Penicuik.

The long straight road runs across the moor parallel to the Pentlands, and going in the direction of Penicuik we would normally expect to have a bit of wind assistance from the prevailing westerly. Not today, but nonetheless we made a decent average speed over there, increasing as the road started dipping towards the town. The final approach, after rejoining the A701, was an incredibly bumpy 30mph descent – they need to do something about that road; it would be a lot more fun if it were smoother!

Just after entering Penicuik, we turned right for the railway cycle path, which was a bit muddier than usual, as was only to be expected, the way the weather has been recently. We then had an easy ride for the final few miles back to where the cars were parked. It had been  a really nice day out; good company and a varied route, with just enough by way of hills to keep it challenging.

This is by way of a follow-up to a post from 1 June 2014, where we failed to find our way to Lammerlock Reservoir. A month or so later, we decided to give it another try and arrived complete with picnic.

Lammerlock Reservoir

Well, it was worth the effort certainly – a lovely secluded spot for a picnic lunch on a sunny July day. Thanks Wendy for help in locating this hidden gem!

To paraphrase Charles Dickens: It was the best of fun, it was the worst of fun…

Back in the years when I did more fishing, Loch Etive was one of my favourite haunts. There was an easy place to launch at Taynuilt, across the loch from Bonawe, and if the fishing wasn’t up to much (which was unusual), I would sometimes take the boat on a scenic trip to the top of the loch and back. I was also aware of a track running up the west side of the loch from Bonawe and had once gone along it for a couple of miles to reach a shore fishing spot. The OS map shows it continuing all the way to the top and I was intrigued at the possibility of doing this by bike. The trip would be about 12 miles, with a stop for lunch at the top of the loch, then returning the way we came. Colette liked the sound of it, so we planned it for the next sunny day.

After an early start, we reached Bonawe about 9.30am and set off through the quarry, with a brief return to the car by me when I realised I’d left it unlocked. The path to the top of the loch was signposted from here, which was a good thing, although the loose gravel surface through the quarry was tricky for cycling.

About half a mile or so later, we left the unsightly quarry behind and followed a reasonably surfaced land rover track, which undulated northeastwards close to the side of the loch. With full sunshine, the day became warm, and we stopped briefly now and then to admire the views over the loch to the steep mountains on the other side.

A lovely day to cycle up Loch Etive

At around four miles in, we arrived at Cadderlie, where there is a bothy. We decided to give it a quick lookside and as we snooped around, a sleepy looking camper emerged from the bunk room. We said hello then left him to get his breakfast sorted as we needed to get on our way.

We cycled on for another couple of miles, when we reached a junction. There was a signpost for Dail Pier via swing bridge, which was going to take us off our chosen route. However, the map showed it was just a short diversion, so we went to check it out. The path narrowed as it approached the bridge which ran over a fast flowing stream. The bridge itself looked quite new and certainly pretty sturdy, so we rode over. It didn’t so much swing as bounce, and stopping half way across gave a lovely view of the stream tumbling its way down the hillside.

Crossing the bridge to Dail

Beyond the bridge there was a track leading across a meadow full of wild orchids to the cottage that was Dail. When we reached the cottage, the path seemed to disapper. We were still a good hundred yards or more from the shore, where we could see no signs of any pier, so we decided to leave it there, and retraced our steps back to the junction.

Following the path, we moved further away from the lochside and further up the hillside, through woodland. At about 11.15, we came to a fairly substantial concrete bridge crossing a river which cascaded down across wide rock slabs. We decided to pause there for a break, where I boiled up some water in a tiny kettle using a tiny spirit stove and made some fancy instant cappucinos, which we drank with Colette’s homemade pecan and date flapjack. It was a beautiful spot to pause and have a rest. If we had any inkling of what was ahead of us, this would have been the time to turn around and head back to the car. However, we carried on in blissful ignorance, feeling good that we were already well over halfway to the head of the loch.

Getting outdoorsy with a nice brew up

Further on, we reached an unexpected fork in the road, with the right fork leading down towards the loch and the left one, looking a bit more overgrown, continuing upwards. The latter path was marked by a signpost with a green arrow, so we chose that one. This was where things started to get more difficult, despite it turning out to be the correct choice.

As we progressed, the road surface became less and less suitable for riding a bike. The track was strewn with rocks generally between brick and football sized, often overgrown with ferns and bog myrtle on the sides and with steep little drops into fords which stopped you in your tracks. There were also some very steep slopes that were hard to push up and impossible to ride down. I was prepared for a bit of this, but it was much harder than I had expected, and we could only rarely get onto the bike and pedal for more than 20 yards or so. This really was a hiking path, not a biking one.

Some parts of the track were relatively flat…

…others less so

Aside from the hard work involved in dragging a bike through this terrain, we were going too slowly to evade the insects, so we were continually brushing off biting flies. We tried using the bog myrtle as an insect repellant, and Colette thought that the area she rubbed with the plant got some protection. I put some in my helmet and in my socks; at least it smelled nice.

We pressed on, ever hoping that the path would get better, but it just gradually got worse and worse. The surroundings were beautiful, but the task in hand was demanding more and more of our attention. We thought about turning back, but the knowledge that we were not so far from the head of the loch kept us pressing onwards, especially when it finally came into view.

Then after over an hour and a half of continually slugging our bikes along, the path just ended abruptly, like some kind of sick joke! But looking further ahead, I could see a fence and a gate in it, further down the hill. Looking more closely, we could make out a very faint path leading down to it through the vegetation. So we wheeled our bikes down through marshy ground to meet up with the gate.

After going through the gate, we were now not far from the shore. The path ahead was a mixture of rocky puddles and bog, making going along the shoreline look like a better option. After dragging our bikes to the shore, we initially pushed our way along reasonably easily, and Colette shouted out that we’d sped up to 2.5 mph! Unfortunately, that didn’t last long, as the gravel gave way to rocks and then boulders, stopping us in our tracks.

Our detour onto the shoreline ended here!

The only good thing was that we could now see a pier just a few hundred yards ahead, where I knew we went back onto proper road. But unfortunately there was nothing for it but to carry the bikes over the rocks and get back to the marshy track to complete the final section. Exhausted though we were, we somehow managed to squelch our way through the bog, round the perimeter of the pier fence and onto some cyclable road. Some mild euphoria ensued, which helped us cycle as far as a nice grassy spot to finally sit down for lunch at about 2.45pm.

Both of us were too tired to eat, but somehow managed to get most of our bashed-up tuna sandwiches down. We were also past worrying about drinking stream water and filled up our empty water bottles with peaty water from a nearby burn. By this stage, I’m sure we weren’t thinking straight either, due to our excessive exertions in the baking sunshine, but we had some choices to make.

I would have rather stuck pins in my eyes than undertake the reverse route, which left a couple of options; 1) to head for Taynuilt via the path on the other side of the loch, or 2) to cycle up Glen Etive and go to the Kings House hotel, where in either case we could abandon the bikes and find some transport back to our car in Bonawe.

We decided to investigate the former option, and after one false turn, managed to get ourselves over the River Etive and onto the return path. The river was just spectacular where we crossed it at the bridge and we paused briefly for Colette to help a frog cross the track. I then cycled up to a cottage where a van was parked and spoke to the joiner who was doing some work inside. I asked if he knew what state the path alongside the loch was in, but he didn’t know, as he was only doing some work there. All he knew was that we had to take a new path around the perimeter of the house, as the old right of way had been diverted to give the occupants some privacy.

That seemed a bit excessive considering that the route must be so seldom used, and it certainly wasn’t easy getting the bikes up and round on the new path. When we got back to the proper track, it looked promising to start with, but we were only cycling a short way before we came to more boggy and excessively rocky ground that necessitated pushing the bikes again. After a short while, we came to a bridge over a small river. We were tired and hot and the water looked very inviting, so I went down to cool off. Colette managed to fall into a hole on her way down, and the look she gave me said “enough is enough”.

We had gone far enough down this track to know that it wasn’t going to get any easier. Even if we had the energy, it was doubtful that we would get to Taynuilt before nightfall. Add to that the fact that we had no mobile reception, and continuing seemed like a recipe for disaster. So we made our way back to the cottage and disturbed the joiner again to ask if by any chance he was going past Oban on his way back. He was going to Glencoe, so I said thanks anyway, we would just cycle to the Kings House and find some form of transport from there.

Back on tarmac, heading up Glen Etive

So we retraced our tracks back to the main road and continued cycling up towards the top of Glen Etive, trying to expend the minimum of effort as we went. The views were magnificent, but the enjoyment was slightly tainted by the feelings of stupidity about how I’d got us there. After a while, the joiner’s van caught up with us, and he asked if we would like a lift to the Kings House. Oh yes please!!!

So Colette went in front and I was in the back with the bikes and the rest of the tools. Andy the joiner introduced himself and asked whether we’d rather go to Glencoe with him, as we might be able to get a bus from Ballachulish to Oban. It certainly made more sense to do it that way, rather than go from the Kings House. After getting to Glencoe, Andy even let us leave our bikes in his storage area to keep them safe till we could come back for them. What a nice young lad he was, and we are so grateful to him for getting us back to civilisation.

After stowing the bikes away, we went over to the Glencoe Inn to ask for info on buses to Oban. Our idea was to get to Oban and get a taxi to Bonawe from there. The receptionist was very helpful, and when she had trouble finding a suitable bus, she phoned a local taxi driver to find out how much he would charge to take us. We were surprised how reasonable the cost was, and he would be able to take our bikes as well. That was such a relief! We had about 45 minutes to wait, so we had a nice bar meal in the adjoining restaurant. I’d have loved to relax with a pint, but there was still a long drive ahead of us and I was very tired already…

The taxi driver picked us up on time and we headed off, with a stop at an ATM in Ballachulish to take out some cash for the fare. We had a lovely sunny evening’s drive down towards Oban, enjoying the views and Colette chatting with the driver, reminiscing about all the places we passed on the way. We explained that we were actually going to Bonawe, which wasn’t a problem, and we arrived at about 7.30pm. Unfortunately, we managed to misplace the money that we needed to pay the fare, and it took a good 5 minutes searching till I found it wedged in a recess of Colette’s rucksack. Blame the tiredness!

Based on my previous experiences of driving back after a long day’s fishing, I had some energy drinks waiting for me in the car, which combined with some uptempo music CDs kept me well awake for the trip back, and we arrived home, safe and sound, just before 11pm. Phew! Huge thanks to all who helped us get home, it was quite an adventure.

We arrived in Aberfoyle at about 10 am, half an hour early for today’s outing with the Lothian Cyclists, having allowed extra time to negotiate the Edinburgh bypass, which actually turned out to be very quiet. It must have been due to the school holidays, but it gave us and a few other early arrivers time for a quick cuppa at Liz MacGregor’s tea room. We wondered about the weather forecast for the day ahead, which was for showers, although it was fine when we arrived.

Soon enough, everyone else appeared and we were ready for the off. After a couple of spins round the car park, we set off up the Duke’s Pass and were straight into some fairly steep gradient. I was a bit worried that my sore knee would come back to spoil the ride, so I was taking no chances and rode up in the lowest gear possible. Luckily I had altered my road bike to make this possible, so the climb wasn’t really all that taxing, apart from the fact that it kept on going for over two miles. By that time I was ready for a rest, catching up with the quicker ones at the high point. Some carelessly discarded energy gel wrappers at the side of the road showed that we weren’t the first cyclists to stop there. I put them into my pocket to transport to the next litter bin – they don’t exactly weigh a lot after all.

We then set off downhill, with a good three miles of freewheeling ahead. Halfway down, the first of the showers started and I contemplated stopping to put on my rain jacket, but decided to keep going. The road wasn’t wet enough to make it slippy, but still I needed a lot of concentration to stay on the right line round the bends.

After passing close to Loch Achray, we stopped at the left turn to Loch Katrine for the group to come together again, then continued forward into the Trossachs as far as Loch Katrine where the public road ends at the steamboat pier. There is a private road running round the loch, where bikes are allowed, and that is what we followed for the next section of the ride. The rain abated and the sun came out as we rode along the side of Loch Katrine, with beautiful new views to be enjoyed around every corner.

What passes for traffic at Loch Katrine!

The first few miles were reasonably flat, but later there were a few steep hills; nothing daunting, just short and sweet. There were one or two short showers along the way, making us wonder how long it would take to get to our lunch stop at Stronachlachar. In fact, we spotted it quite early on the other side of the loch, but it took a while to get all the way round. As we were getting close, a particularly heavy shower began. The rain made the deer grids (like a cattle grid but longer) slippy and I had a scary moment when my back wheel started to skid out from under me when going across the last one at speed. No wonder the signs tell cyclists to go through the gate instead!

Dramatic scenery and a shower coming our way…

We then arrived at the pier, where a lovely cafe is situated, ready to serve boatloads of tourists who have sailed up the loch from the “port” at the other end. For a place with limited competition, we were glad to find the food reasonably priced, as well as reasonably tasty. After my big beefburger and chips it took some effort to get up and contemplate getting back into the saddle. As we assembled outside the cafe and got ourselves ready for the off in the bright sunshine, we were at the same time getting wet in a heavy shower. Typical Scottish weather – if the Trossachs isn’t the official home of the sunshower, then it really should be!

Lunchtime at Stronachlachar

A stiff climb took us away from Loch Katrine, then we turned left and started a long undulating descent towards Aberfoyle with Loch Arklet initially to our right. After that, we entered the Loch Ard Forest where we sheltered beneath some trees for a few minutes during a brief cloudburst. The midges were also hiding beneath the same tree and seemed to focus their attentions on Fiona. That was the cue to get going again and leave the wee beasties behind.

I followed our progress by the old fashioned milestones at the side of the road, counting the miles down to Aberfoyle, starting at twelve. We rode past Loch Chon and later Loch Ard where the scenery just kept on giving. The final run-in to Aberfoyle was quite rapid and before long we were back where we started, with people talking about ice cream, especially as the rain was now over for the day and we were basking in warm sunshine.

The decision was made to pack away our bikes first, which Colette and I did, then went over to the other cars, where Norah had run into a small problem. She had laid her keys down inside her car, where they had spontaneously locked her out. Something to do with a dodgy remote locking device. She managed to find a couple of friendly coach drivers to give her a hand to break into the car. They worked away with bits of wire, but after a while, as this was looking like it might not work, she went in search of the police station. All that was left of the police station was a telephone line to connect her to another one some miles away. That phone call told her just to call the AA, which she might have if she had been a member.

Meanwhile, the interpid bus drivers carried on. We went and got ice cream, and the bus drivers were fed ice cream and we ate and chatted and composed limericks about the situation . Then finally the sound of a car alarm heralded a successful forced entry into Norah’s car. Well done those guys!

It has been raining so much recently it’s unbelievable. Our last outing, earlier in the week, was during a rare dry spell, but we cut it short almost immediately when it started raining again, then I got a puncture a mile from home just for good measure. The forecast for the next week is again pretty much solid rain, but today was to be different – warm and sunny: a day not to be wasted on cutting the grass, even though it’s about a foot high by now.

It was also a chance to try out my latest addition to the stable: a Raleigh Mustang “all terrain bike” of ca. 1990 vintage that I picked up from Gumtree for next to nothing. I stripped it down to the bare steel frame, which was in pretty much immaculate condition, and over the past couple of months, built it back up to a robust mule of a touring-style bike. It is pretty much as I’d like it now, apart from the mudguards being cheap plastic mountain bike ones. That could be the final new bit of tack for the bike if it makes the grade.

Our plan was to head for West Linton via Penicuik, then go south till we hit the A72, head in the direction of Peebles then go back north through the Meldons on our way home. Although I’d made a rudimentary plan, I omitted to print it out or bring a map, which was a bit rash, seeing as I don’t know that area very well.

At least the first part was easy, heading down the A7 to Newtonloan, then on to Bonnyrigg, where we followed the railway path to Penicuik. I should have thought that part through though, as the past week’s rain had made the cycle path very muddy. Colette’s bike didn’t have mudguards, so it and her back got quite dirty, something we’d managed to avoid for the past couple of months. My rear mudguard, combined with pannier rack and the rack bag on top served to keep my back clean, but the front mudguard was too short to be much use, leaving my legs and most of the bike well and truly splattered. That mudguard upgrade sounded like a good idea!

The other thing we had to contend with was insects – loads of them. When Colette suddenly started coughing uncontrollably, the only conclusion was sudden inhalation of fly. Ugh, horrible! The whole episode left her feeling a bit wheezy and queasy, but she got over it and at least the swallowed bug will have gone some way to fuelling the day’s outing…

After reaching Penicuik and heading out up the A701, I managed to let the chain come off somehow. It went back on quickly, and as I was doing so, another cyclist went past on his road bike. I got back on quickly to see if I could catch him up, but the answer was an emphatic no! This bike was more than 50% heavier than my own road bike, so I had to be content with going a bit slower. On the plus side, the tyres are much bigger than road bike tyres, meaning that I was having a much more comfortable ride up this bumpy road.

The long, straight road to West Linton

We then took the turn-off for West Linton and headed out along the long, straight and quiet road. A young lady was apparently having her first driving lesson, and we leap frogged the little red car a couple of times before it turned back, passing us one last time. She did that well and very carefully, better than some of the other drivers we encountered today.

Eventually, West Linton came into sight – the first time we have approached it on this road. Up to now, we have just been passing through on the main road, so the layout and extent of the village came as something of a surprise. It was bigger than I thought, and I wished I’d printed out a map so we could be sure of finding the right road out.

We came out beside a second-hand book shop, which we browsed for a while, then went in search of a cup of tea, which we found courtesy of the Old Toll Tea House. It was a good cuppa in china cups, plus some lovely home baking at very reasonable cost. Leaving the tea house, we found that it was now officially warm, just as forecast, and it really felt like summer. In the park alongside the tea room, a fair was setting up and it looked to be Gala weekend. Hope the weather holds for the festivities to come….

West Linton, with the bunting out

In my half-remembered map, we were to follow a road going roughly south out of West Linton and turn left when we reached the A72. I picked what I thought was the right one and we set off into pleasant green countryside. Sooner than I expected we came to a main road. I hadn’t been expecting it to be the A701. I was a bit stumped, so we went left for a mile or so, then doubled back and took the B7509, signposted for Peebles. Although I wasn’t certain at the time, we were on the right road after all, but I was happy just to be heading for Peebles, as I could find our way home from there without a problem.

The sun continued to shine on us, my “new” bike was rolling along smoothly and we were riding through a beautiful green valley that we’d never been through before. What could be better!

We then reached the A72, which we followed in the direction of Peebles, with the fast-flowing Lyne River running alongside us to the left. I heard a loud splash at one point, possibly a salmon jumping out. A buzzard calling then got me looking out to the right. It struck me that none of the loud motorbikes or lorries rushing past us would have a chance of hearing anything like that.

A little bit further down the road, we came across the unusual sight of a truck that had been tipped over onto its side, spilling some of its contents onto the verge, with the driver warning traffic at one side and the driver of a passing truck stationed at the other side. It looked like coming out from a tight junction had caused the problem and the driver said he wished he’d chosen a different route. As there wasn’t a lot we could do, we left them to wait for help to arrive and went on our way, very happy with our own choice of route.

Fairly soon, we arrived at the turning for the Meldons, and headed into the hills. The gradient was never steep however, and after a while, we arrived at a picnic spot, with a plastic bench where we decided to stop and have lunch. I unpacked the tuna sandwiches and we sat down to eat them  between strange-looking melted patches on the top of the bench. Setting up a BBQ on a plastic bench appears to be a bad idea!

Colette spent a while cooling her feet off in the stream that ran alongside, then a couple of cars pulled in to the same spot, so we decided it was time to get back on our bikes. I stood up on the pedals to get me moving up the steep little slope back to the road, when I just about fell forward off the bike. It turned out that I hadn’t done up the quick release lever tight enough and the rear wheel got pulled out of position (this bike has horizontal dropouts, for those in the know). For a split-second, I was surprised to see a loose washer threaded onto the quick release skewer, until I remembered I’d put it in as part of a bodge when I was getting the wheels set up but I’d never turned it into a proper fix. I got everything good and tight again, then we continued going uphill.

In the Meldons. Which came first, the rocks or the trees?

We had got about a mile when Colette realised she didn’t have her gloves. They were probably left behind at the picnic spot, but she said it was too much hassle to go back for them, plus she also had a spare pair at home. I had my own problem with the gears not indexing properly, which got a bit annoying, but nothing that I couldn’t work around.

Once over the top, it was a quick cycle down into Eddleston, where we headed north up the A703. This road has some of the worst surface known to cyclists, as well as being quite busy, so when Colette suggested we stop for another break at The Scots Pine Tearoom, it didn’t take too long for me to see the sense. With more tea and more cake, we felt refreshed enough to tackle the final leg of our trip.

After a few miles of the A703, we gladly took the turnoff for Gorebridge and left the busy main road behind. The steep, windy climb was just about OK on my bike. If I was carrying more luggage, I might have been glad of one or two lower gears.

Heading home over the moor, we were both beginning to feel a bit tired. I didn’t have any pains in the hands, arms or the back, though my right knee was getting a little sore – possibly the saddle wasn’t in quite the right position. During the final few miles it got gradually worse, such that by the time we got home, I couldn’t have gone a mile further! That was a slightly disappointing end to a lovely day out, but it didn’t prevent me from giving the bikes a good wash and sorting out the gear problem with the Mustang, which was due to putting the wheel back on with the washer on the wrong side of the dropouts. Now the wait is back on for the next dry day, assuming my leg returns to normal by then!

This year we have spent most of our time covering miles on the road rather than searching out interesting off-road routes. In an attempt to redress the balance somewhat, I decided we should investigate a relatively short piece of track in the foothills of the Lammermuirs that has at least 5 lochs / reservoirs / ponds to visit along the way.

To get to these lochs, we would spend most of our trip on the road, winding our way through the East Lothian countryside with a genuine chance of getting lost. So I made sure to bring along the Spokes East Lothian cycle map.

We set off and immediately had to take a diversion, as the road through Borthwick is closed at the bridge over the Borders Railway, currently under construction. They hadn’t expected to close this road but it seems that the bridge is now not safe, and repairs will take all summer. That means we need to get used to a diversion down the A7, then taking the Fushiebridge turnoff and up over the top of Catcune before coming back to where we would have been if the bridge hadn’t been closed. It’s a mile or so longer but not quite as steep as the “preferred” route!

Yet another closed road, courtesy of the Borders Railway project…

Our route then took us past Newlandrigg and Vogrie before turning right onto the A68 then left back off again bringing us past the lions guarding the entrance to Preston House. It was warm, sunny and relatively calm, making our progress very enjoyable, especially as the roads were pretty much devoid of traffic. I had also managed to pick a route that was flat or downhill for quite a few miles until we reached West Saltoun.

We climbed somewhat towards East Saltoun and took the road that brought us past the saw mill before reaching the B6368. From there, we took a small road signposted for Leehouses, which was the first time we’d been along that one. It went steeply up a hill, taking us past the aforementioned Leehouses before finally depositing us at Kidlaw farm.

Beside the farm there was a sign saying “Footpath”, which was where we were headed. From here, it was going to be rough track, so that’s why we left our road bikes at home in favour of our “go anywhere” hybrids. The track climbed fairly steeply and very soon brought us to the first pond, where a pair of swans were installed at the far side. We stopped for a good look, and found ourselves at the foot of an iron-age fort on the adjacent hillside; the earthworkings were still clearly visible.

Continuing, we met a fork in the track. According to the map, the steep right fork was a dead end, heading towards the west side of Lammerlock Reservoir, while the left fork would give us access to the dam on the east side. We chose the latter option, making our way at a gentle pace and enjoying the tranquil surroundings.

At the next gate, we came across another pond, this one rather larger than the first. A small herd of cows took an interest in us and came as close as the next gate on the left would allow them. We would tackle that little problem later, but first we wanted to find Lammerlock Reservoir and stop for a break. The Spokes map showed a single road going to our right, leading up to the reservoir, so we set off. Fairly soon, the road took a sharp left bend and descended steeply before coming to another gate. From that gate, we could see the track continuing through another field then up onto a hill. We thought that this must take us to the reservoir, so we followed that track.

Part-way up the hill, a minor track led off to the left so we decided to check that out as it was heading towards the bottom of a glen, where we reasoned the reservoir might be located. But pretty soon we found that this was wrong, so we doubled back and continued up the hill. We kept saying, just a bit more and we should see it, but we never did, and we got to pretty much the top of the hill before we decided to stop and eat our big slice of sponge cake that Colette had baked the previous day.

Hill fort with Haddington and the Firth of Forth in the background

The view from the top was stunning, and well worth the effort, even if it might turn out to be a wrong turn. The fort we had seen earlier was now below us and the rings were picked out clearly in the light. We took in the panorama, that stretched round from the Pentlands, Edinburgh and Fife beyond, past Haddington to Berwick Law and Traprain Law. Between the latter two we could make out the Bass Rock, and behind that another island; the Isle of May perhaps? The one thing we couldn’t see was Lammerlock Reservoir!

We then descended carefully and returned to the pond with the onlooking cows. Luckily they were now gone, so we progressed through the gate where they were gathered before. It didn’t take long for us to find the cows further down the track and I think we spooked them a little, as they cleared off up the hill, much to Colette’s relief!

Latch Loch

Next up was yet another pond; this one named Latch Loch. We were in a small, steep-sided valley with signs of small scale quarrying in the past. The ponds were evidently created by the strategic use of small dams. I could only assume that the reason was to attract waterfowl so that they could be shot at, but perhaps there is a better explanation?

We then reached the last of the lochs / ponds with a small house nearby. From there, the track turned left and up a steep hill where we both had to push our bikes. From there we got a good view of a fairly large quarry. Much of the hill had been removed, leaving a steep gravelly cliff where lots of sand matins had made their homes.

There followed a downhill section that we equally as steep as the other side. We played safe and walked the bikes down, as the surface was uneven and slippy. This took us through a farm and finally back out onto tarmac again, a mile or so to the east of Kidlaw.

After our fun off-road excursion, it was time to head for home. We hadn’t gone far when after saying hello to a passing cyclist, we heard the squealing of brakes. We stopped and it turned out to be an ex-colleague, Alison, who I hadn’t recognised at first – I’m hopeless at recognising anyone with their helmet on! She had made her way there from Edinburgh and was going to go back via Gifford and the coast. We had a nice chat then got back in the saddle and went our opposite ways.

The rest of our ride was through familiar territory and was uneventful, although very pleasant, apart from the traffic lights at non-existent roadworks along the B6458, which are beginning to get a bit tedious. Most cars have started ignoring them now, but we still sit there like mugs waiting for the lights to turn green!

Once we got home, the first thing I wanted to do was check a proper map (the Spokes one is fine for finding proper roads, but is a bit hazy where it comes to minor tracks). It appears that we breezed past the proper track and took one which isn’t even marked! It was just where the track took a sharp bend and went steeply downhill. Not sure how we missed the turn but we did. So there’s nothing for it but to go back sometime soon and try again…