Cycling in Midlothian (and elsewhere)

I thought I knew all the reservoirs and ponds close to us, but when glancing at the satellite map recently, a small heart-shaped loch or pond was visible not far from the B7007 Granites road, nestled between Broad Law and Torfichen Hill. What’s more, there seemed to be an island in the middle with a walkway leading to it. Looking on OS maps, the pond was marked at 1:50,000 scale, but was replaced with the words “Foul Slush” on the 1:25,000 map.  As off-putting as that sounds, it only served to intrigue me more, and since there was a track leading from the road to the pond, it became high on our list of places to visit.

We were waiting for a reasonable day, and the forecast for today showed the rain stopping and the sun coming out in the afternoon. So off we went, along the A7 to take the Innerleithen turnoff. However, before we reached the turnoff, I had to stop and examine some roadkill. It looked at first glance like an otter, and on second glance it was most certainly an otter. It was so sad. I didn’t even know we had them around us before today, and clearly we have one less now. Crossing the A7 is unfortunately a dangerous thing to do.

On reaching the B7007, there began the long, slow climb. Luckily the gradient is never particularly steep; it just goes on for a long time until you turn a corner and enter the Scottish Borders. Sadly, the weather forecast was a bit off the mark and we had to forego sun for steady drizzle and a strong breeze, which became evident once we reached the top.

We made our way to the turnoff for Foul Slush, which was a locked gate. We lifted the bikes over and cycled along a fairly good landrover track, past some recently planted conifers, until the pond came into view. Immediately, we scared off a pair of ducks from the water and it was clear that this was a man-made duck pond, surrounded by little brick-built pits from which hunters could shoot at them. I was worried that there might be some hunters in residence who might not too happy about our sudden appearance, but that was not the case, thankfully.

First glimpse of the pond

Getting to the central island was our aim, so we squelched our way round on foot through boggy ground (or should that be “foul slush”) till we reached the wooden walkway. It was slightly slippy, so we took it easy. Once in the middle, there wasn’t much to see, bar taking a look into the shooting hole. I had planned to jump down, but it really didn’t look very inviting at all, so I passed.

The wooden walkway was surprisingly sturdy

Colette on the island

After we had satisfied ourselves that we had seen all there is to see, we made our way back to the bikes. Our original plan, based on the assumption that we were in for a dry, sunny afternoon, was to cycle down to Heriot then complete the circle back home on the A7. However, as the weather had not been so obliging and our feet were various degrees of soaking wet, we decided to just head back the way we came. That meant we had about 4 miles of downhill to enjoy, bringing us home in no time at all.

Now, if anyone reading this blog post is planning a visit to Foul Slush on the strength of it, please be aware that there will be times that shooting is going on, so keep your ears and eyes peeled for the signs. As far as I can tell, the duck shooting season is Sept 1 to Jan 31, so outside these times would probably be best. But keep in mind that other kinds of shooting might be taking place. Basically, please don’t get yourself shot on my account!

It is almost 2 years since I retired, but until then, I did the same commute virtually every week day. Although my destination, Easter Bush, was in the middle of the countryside, I had to fill in questionnaires regularly to justify a parking permit for the car park and to prove that using public transport or a bike was not a viable alternative.

The trip by car was about 11.5 miles each way, which took about 20 minutes. With my car and the current price of fuel, that works out at about £3.32 for the round trip. The bus option would involve taking the First Bus X95 into Edinburgh and then a Lothian Transport 15 bus to Easter Bush. I’m not up on current bus prices and timetables, but that would take about 2 hours each way and cost around £8 all-in. So of course, I dismissed the public transport option out of hand. But what about cycling?

On the form, you were invited to tick any of the suggested aspects which prevented you from cycling, like:

Distance: too far?    TICK!

Hills: too hilly?    TICK!

Roads: too busy / dangerous?    TICK!

Fitness: not fit enough?    TICK!

Arriving hot and sweaty and in need of a shower and change of clothes?   TICK!

However, you never really know until you try it. Now I’ve been cycling for a couple of years, I thought I’d finally try out that commute by bike and see what it really felt like…

It was a cold morning, with a noticable breeze but I was well wrapped up and started off feeling positive about the adventure. My bike was freshly spruced up after the dunking it had a few days earlier and was ticking over very smoothly.

The run into Birkenside was downhill, making for a quick start. What I didn’t realise at that point was the wind was behind me, making my progress even more rapid than I thought. I then continued through Carrington and crossed the A6094 at the old water works, heading for Roslin Glen. It didn’t take long to freewheel down to the bottom of Roslin Glen, then I was faced with the climb up the other side.

This climb is probably the main reason I feared cycling to work, and I’ve avoided it ever since, so this was my first attempt by bike. But sometimes the hills you fear the most end up being easier than expected, as you don’t attack them but get down into low gear early and just do the minimum to keep making forward progress. I had certainly heated up by the time I reached the top, but was far from panting with exhaustion. Result!!!

The remaining mile or so to my destination wasn’t too taxing, and I found myself at Easter Bush just under an hour after starting off. I had expected it to take maybe 10 minutes longer, but I hadn’t been factoring in the wind assistance. Now it was time to turn around and try it in reverse…

The descent back into Roslin Glen was rapid, even with lots of braking, as the hairpin bend at the end can catch you out if you don’t get it just right. From the bottom, I didn’t take the side road that I’d come in along, as that meant a steeper climb than just staying on the main road through the glen and out the other side. The gradient was not massive but still I slowed down lots of cars on my ascent. Thankfully they were all very courteous.

At the top of the glen road, where it meets the A6094 again, I got myself onto the cycle path to Bonnyrigg. I was going to cycle as far as Bonnyrigg, then turn right onto Cockpen Road. However, as I got closer, there were more people out dog walking, and I remembered how the last part is usually strewn with broken glass, so I took a right turn into the new housing estate which turned out to make a nice short cut.

I then followed Cockpen Road past Dalhousie Castle and turned right onto the A7. At that point, I felt the full force of the wind in my face. The wind wasn’t exactly gale force, but with tired legs and going steadily uphill, it slowed me down a lot. I got home eventually, peeled off layer after layer of sweaty clothing and had a nice hot shower.

So what is my final verdict on the feasibility of this “commute”? I definitely could do it, but I probably wouldn’t look forward to it, especially as I’d be doing it during rush hour and in all weather conditions. I certainly would arrive very sweaty and would need to add time for having a shower and a change at work. Taking that into consideration, I think the ideal solution here would be to use an electrically-assisted bike. That would help battle against the wind and would reduce the queue of cars behind me when going up the big hills, making me much less sweaty as a result. All hypothetial of course, and I’m so glad that I don’t need to worry about doing it at all now!

There are some roads and tracks quite close by that I’m aware of from the map, but have never tried. Today, I decided to try out several, hoping to open up some new route possibilities. Colette wasn’t able to join me, so consequently there are no pics, but I thought I’d write this one up all the same.

It looked like a reasonable day, with occasional sunny intervals, but as I started out, I realised that we have been spoiled of late with light winds. The wind today was quite noticeable and made it hard going at times. So I slowly made my way up to Gladhouse Reservoir, then after the dam, turned right for the short-cut along the farm roads. After that, I took the B6372 to the Mount Lothian crossroads, making good time along that section with the only bit of useful wind assistance I was to get all day.

I turned left at the Mount Lothian crossroads heading roughly south. It was a slog against the wind, making my way to the entrance to “Millenium Wood”. I had never gone beyond that point, and there is a notice effectively tellling cars to go no further, as there is no turning ahead. In my naivety, I just assumed that meant the road was narrow. The map shows the road carrying on past a few farms till it reaches the A703. May be tricky for cars, but my bike can go places where cars can’t!

So I carried on past Cockmuir farm where I said hello to someone as I passed, and a small dog decided to tag along. I tried to outrun him, which wasn’t a great idea, as I’ve never been able to outrun a dog before. After a while he gave up and I stopped to catch my breath. I had apparently reached the end of the road. The turning to the right that I was looking for was actually just a farm track that looked like it may have been paved in an earlier era but was now returning to the wild.

I didn’t really want to back track, especially as I would be embarrassed to go back past man and dog, so I thought about opening the gate and going on. The road was fairly flat for a while before turning to a grass track leading gently uphill. In between, there was a long stretch of puddle. I decided to go through the water, as it was a fairly manageable 4-6 inches deep. However, by the time I had got halfway through it started getting deeper. There was no way I could turn back without putting my feet down so I went on. But the water just got deeper and my feet got wet just pedaling anyway. It went up over the bottom bracket (that’s the spindle that the cranks are attached to) and the wheel hubs.

I jumped off at the side of the road and lifted the bike up, only to realise that I was standing on reeds in the middle of a bog. My feet were already soaked and the bike was as wet as it could be, so there was nothing for it but to get back on and pedal until I hit dry land again. I now felt dafter than if I’d turned around in the first place, but in the spirit of discovery, I ploughed onward.

The track post-puddle was quite manageable, which made me think that this whole venture would be so much better if repeated during the summer (that is assuming we have a dry one). Trying not to be disheartened, I ignored the muddy bits as much as possible and completed the off-road section by turning left at Kingside farm and along the potholed track to the A703.

There I turned right onto the main road, and then left a short while later. This took me to the start of a straight section of road that I had noticed on the map, which would take me onto a network of small roads as an alternative to cycling along the A703. As it turned out, there was a gate with at least three signs making it clear that entry was a no-no. Unusual for Scotland, but it was apparently due to Bio-Hazard. That was quite worrying, making me think of secret government weapons testing, as per Gruinard Island, but I think the reality is more likely to be intensive factory farming.

In the opposite direction from the danger area lay a section of woodland planting with a circular walk. I went part way into there and stopped for a sandwich. My feet were now starting to get cold, so I decided not to explore there any further and headed back to the A703. I headed south in the direction of Peebles and straight into the face of the strengthening wind. Even on the downhill bits I felt like I was crawling, so I was pleased when I was able to take the left turn for Gorebridge. This road climbs quickly in a gently sweeping switchback, making me search for the lowest gear, but wasn’t steep enough to stop me altogether. Soon after that I reached the access gates for Portmore Reservoir, where I stopped and scoffed the other half of my sandwich.

From Portmore to home is usually quite quick, but the wind had other ideas, blowing either from the side or into my face. I was getting slower all the time; my feet were now like blocks of ice and my muscles sore, and to cap it all, the bike was making an unhealthy squeaking sound. Finally I got home, having made the 26 mile trip feel more like 56. A long soak in the bath brought my feet back to life, but reviving the bike is going to take a bit more effort!

This was another jaunt with the Lothian Cyclists, and was thoughtfully planned for a bright, mild and above all, wind-free day. As Colette and I are still unaware of most of the hidden cycle routes around Edinburgh, it was a case of follow the leader as we started off from a car park close to the Union Canal.

Soon we turned off the canal and shortly after that we were at the traffic lights at the east end of Gorgie Road. Fairly soon, we had arrived at a cycle track along a disused railway, accompanied by the familiar Edinburgh smell of brewing. At some stage I was aware that we had made our way onto National Cycle Route no 1, heading north. The centre of the city must have passed unnoticed, as the next thing I saw was a sign saying we were passing under Queensferry Road. It was all so effortless, as it was downhill all the way.

Somehow we ended up in the car park of a Tesco store at Davidsons Mains and there followed some unfamiliar roads, finally bringing us out at an entrance to the Dalmeny Estate. We cycled along a pretty decent track and made quite good progress until we discovered that one of the group was missing – due to a flat tyre. Once we regrouped, we carried on through pleasant woodland, passing the occasional cottage and mansion, with the view of the Forth on our right.

The iconic Forth rail bridge

Finally, we came out at South Queensferry in the shadow of the Forth rail bridge. We only rode a small distance into the town before going up a steep path that joined onto another ex-railway cycle path taking us back in an easterly direction. My recollection is that we then turned onto some minor roads heading south.

This was an easy run so far, in contrast to the muddy slog of a ride that we had attended the day before. We did encounter some unavoidable mud however, when our desired road turned out to be under repair and we were diverted by one of the workmen through the squelchy stuff. It was quite a short detour though, and soon we were back on track.

I was starting to get hungry, so it was a relief to hear that our lunch destination was not too far off. After a while, we turned up a fairly steep road towards Craigie Farm, which is a cyclist-friendly farm shop and cafe, with an encouraging sign halfway way up the hill, saying not far to go now!

Lunch break for the bikes at Craigie Farm

The self-service cafeteria meant that we didn’t have to wait long before we were all seated and tucking into lunch. Colette and I checked out the chickens after lunch while everyone else finished off, then it was back on our bikes to continue eastwards in the general direction of Edinburgh.

Our route took us past the Army HQ for Scotland then into Barnton. We avoided the main roads for a while, then came out at the busy A8. We rode on the pavement (dual use) along the north side of the dual carriageway in the direction of the airport, then crossed over to the other side via the bridge leading into the RBS HQ.

We carried on alongside the dual carriageway for a while then turned south and up a bit of a hill till we met up with the Union Canal again. In contrast to the canal in central Edinburgh, here it was quiet and tranquil, with very few people out on the towpath.

So we rode back into Edinburgh, taking in the sights, including various intricate wood carvings, high school rowing teams out practising on the canal, and the eerie sight of a humanoid torso floating in the water. The torso turned out to be the top half of a female mannequin, which I suppose makes a change from shopping trollies (OK, I only saw one shopping trolley!).

Carefully crossing the aqueduct

The highlights, literally, of this final part of the ride, were the aqueduct crossings, firstly over the city bypass and then over the Water of Leith. The latter crossing was quite narrow so we had to dismount, but still it was a squeeze passing other cyclists. I didn’t fancy an early bath.

Soon, we had reached our original starting point, said cheerio and went our separate ways. Well, Colette and I took a slight detour to help load one of our chums’ bike onto her car. It was a very pleasant day out: just the right distance at just the right pace, in the company of a very agreeable group of fellow cyclists.

Whenever we’re in town, it is quite remarkable how the cyclists we see and the bikes they ride come in so many shapes and forms. That’s because on our usual runs around the Midlothian countryside we almost invariably come across fit young cyclists, often matching pairs, whizzing past on sleek racing bikes. Nothing wrong with this of course, but it sometimes makes us old plodders feel a little out of place.

So when on a couple of occasions last year, we crossed paths with a cycling group that was composed of people more like us, we thought we’d like to join in too. We regretted not stopping anyone at the time to enquire, and it wasn’t until recently that I chanced upon the Lothian Cyclists group online and worked out who they were. We promptly joined up and went along to the first meetup of the year, congregating in a car park in Livingston for a 10am start. I was glad when we got underway, as it was a chilly old morning and my knees were trembling in the cold (or was that just anticipation?!).

The group is led by CJ, who does a fantastic job of marshalling everyone and zooming up and down between the front and back of the group. Following CJ, we made our way through Sainsbury’s car park, out of Livingston through Brucefield Industrial Estate and continued south into the countryside.

All the time we were going uphill, but the gradient was easy so it was possible to talk to the others without gasping for breath inbetween sentences. We paused at a crossroads for the group to come together then carried on up a straight tree lined road with an enormous wind turbine dominating the horizon. At the top of the road, we turned left and carried on climbing for a while longer.

After passing through Auchengray, we hit a nice fast downhill section that took us over a level crossing. There was no cyclists dismount sign, but I went over carefully nonetheless and had a good look out for any trains. When we paused at the top of the next uphill and looked back, we could see a train go through, and its arrival at the level crossing was accompanied by ample warning, so it should be difficult to miss!

A snazzy velomobile went past – what a wonderful sight!

At our next pause, we got the chance to wave to a small group of recumbent riders as they passed. One of their number was particularly striking: a “Velo-City” almost fully enclosed red bullet of a thing. I bet it’s a lot of fun to use, but not as easy to fit in your car.

Carnwath was signposted left at the next junction, and Braehead right. The original plan was to go via the pub in Braehead, but it was closed and so we went the opposite direction, finally reaching the Robertson Arms in Carnwath at lunchtime, with some specks of light rain falling.

Warming up in the pub!

Ordering lunch and drinks was a tortuous affair, but once ordered, the food came promptly and mine at least (cheeseburger and chips) was really tasty. We were there over an hour until everyone finished, so there was plenty of time to chat with the others. During that time, it apparently rained then died down just as we were leaving. A well timed break indeed!

We left Carnwath on the A70 Edinburgh Road, going uphill again. It started lightly raining again and it was very dull, matching the bleak outlook over the moor. One section of the road is amusingly known as the Lang Whang, and it certainly took a good bit of effort to get along it. Luckily, the wind which had strengthened a lot, was at our backs and helping us along.

A dull, dull day on the West Lothian moors

We then reached the highest point of the route, at about 1090 feet, then it was pretty much downhill all the way back to Livingston. Some of the group left Colette and me way behind at that stage, and those of us in the middle decided not to wait for the back of the group to catch up, as it was way too cold and windy to stand around.

I have to admit getting a little confused about the road layout through Livingston on the way back, but we made it back to Sainsbury’s unscathed and in time to say cheerio to the group. It had been a dull, dreich day, and if it had just been the two of us, it might have been a bit of a damp squib, but doing it with the group made it so much more enjoyable.  There are lots more rides scheduled throughout the year, so we plan to join in plenty more.

Just as a final note, you need to join Lothian Cyclists to be able to read about the planned rides and the members on the club website, so I am deliberately not mentioning names here. Maybe that’s OTT, I’ll ask around at the next meetup…

December 2013 will be remembered (by some at least, and by me for sure) as the month when the wind hardly ever let up. That has made getting out for a cycle difficult to say the least. With a keen eye on the weather forecast, I noticed that Boxing Day was due to give us a brief respite from the wind, and so I made sure not to overindulge on Christmas Day evening so we could get up nice and early the following day.

We set off at around 9am, well after dawn for sure but before the sun had risen above the hills on our skyline. The route we were going to take hadn’t been fully worked out; the only thing I was sure about when we set off was that it needed to be over 17 miles long. The reason for this was that my 2013 distance tally, according to MapMyRide, was sitting at 2483 miles, and I liked the sound of getting past 2500 for the year.

To start with, we headed out across the A7 and up past Middleton Limeworks for a change, as we thought the lorries would be having the day off. The road was remarkably free of mud as if had been cleaned specially for Christmas, but there was quite a bit of frost, as the temperature was only just above freezing.

As I approached the first hill, I tried changing to a lower gear, but my front gear mechanism refused to budge, forcing me to stop and investigate. I had put some time into cleaning it up recently so this was disappointing. With a bit of encouragement, I was able to get it shifting again, and I guessed that I must have let some moisture get into the works during the cleaning, which then froze while the bike was in the shed, leading to it being, well, frozen when I brought it out this cold morning.

I quickly caught up Colette and we crunched through some big frozen puddles to the top part of the quarry, where we discovered another little Christmas present. The part of the road where the lorries have been crossing back and forth incessantly over recent months, and which had degenerated into a pair of deep, mud-filled ruts, we found to be newly resurfaced. So here’s a big “Thank you!” from us.

By this time, we were decided to head for Gladhouse Reservoir, so we followed our usual route along the quiet roads, even quieter than usual in fact, with not a vehicle to be seen all the way there. The road remained frosty but at least the sun had now appeared from above the hilly horizon. My decision to wear lots of breathable layers rather than anything windproof seemed a bit of a mistake at this stage, as there was still a noticeable wind chill and the low sun was not yet imparting any useful warmth.

As we approached Gladhouse Reservoir, we came across quite a few ice sheets spanning the road. These were in places where water normally trickles across, but being as cold as it was, the water turned to ice as it hit the road, growing into an ice layer up to a centimetre thick. The way we chose to deal with these was to let our bikes roll straight across, not too fast and not too slow.

Once we passed the reservoir, at Toxside we decided to turn left and rode southwest along the lovely stretch of smooth tarmac that was laid less than a year ago. My tyres buzzed quietly as I cycled along, and soon I discovered that I had warmed up properly at last. I stopped at a layby on the right, where a fly tipper had disposed of a spare toilet bowl. Normally finding fly-tipping, which is quite a common occurrence in this area, makes me quite sad, but this installation, without any accompanying detritus, just made me laugh. Colette made it clear that she was not going to take my photo sitting on the loo, so I busied myself instead by lifting the bikes over the fence. We were going to take a brief off-road excursion, but unhelpfully, the gate leading to our chosen track was broken and tied shut.

A loo with a view

We cycled through Tweeddale Burn Wood, which is a picturesque avenue of mature trees, but it soon ended at a deer fence that surrounds a recent plantation. The first time we cycled through this place, we spoke to an elderly gent who told us that it was planted as part of the Millennium project. I’m not sure if this is actually true or not, but the timing would seem about right judging on the size of the trees, and so we have called it the “Millennium Wood” ever since. If anyone knows the correct name, please let us know!

Cycling along the frosty track

We entered the plantation and rode along the land rover tracks, quickly coming to a stretch of deep ruts that are normally filled up to about 6″ with water and run for about 20 yards. Today, they were frozen over and were great fun to cycle through. If either of us had fallen or had to stop and put a foot down, the fun would have been quite a lot less.

After a slight incline, it was pretty much downhill for quite a while, which I whizzed along having a great time. I then turned back to meet Colette who was taking photos of the frozen pond. We then cycled on to the end of the wood, which came all too soon, and turned right onto tarmac again. There we met a passing jogger who warned us that it was pretty icy up ahead.

Dark waters covered in a thin coating of ice

There was indeed sheet ice ahead, but what made it more tricky was that we were going uphill as we crossed, so it was necessary to keep pedalling as we went across. That made the rear end tend to slip, and staying upright was quite tricky. Colette had the smart idea of getting off and walking the bike along the grass verge. We both managed to make it across unscathed, and reached Mount Lothian farm, where we turned right onto the B6372. This road then twists and descends in a way that is normally a lot of fun, but today we played it safe and rolled along sedately before climbing up on the other side and turning right at the next junction till we got to Toxside again.

From there, we retraced our steps with the wind now at our backs and with the sun now treating us to some gently warming rays. We also felt a warm glow of satisfaction once we got back home, for having managed to get back on our bikes at last, and the fact that we went carefully for much of the way meant that we weren’t totally exhausted either.

The weather forecast this morning said it was going to be nice and sunny and not too windy, so it was time for another outing. This time we opted to take the car to Gifford, then explore some of the roads round there that we hadn’t been on before – the idea being to cycle to Garvald, then over the hill to Whiteadder Reservoir before returning to Gifford.

After a couple of false starts, we got underway, taking the right fork at the church when leaving Gifford. The road rose steadily upwards and we carried straight on at the first junction, ignoring the main road to Garvald – we were going to take the minor one further along.

Soon we came to a 1:7 descent, followed by a steep climb on the other side. It was clear that our progress up the Lammermuirs was going to be a case of two steps forward, one step back. Next we came to a 17% descent with a wide tractor/digger bearing down on me. The problem came after I had reached the bottom and found a matching 17% climb on the other side. The digger did wait patiently behind me as I struggled upwards. I didn’t want to stop and lose momentum, so I pedalled a bit harder than I would have liked to get to the top ASAP. Once at the top, the digger could see to overtake, and I was left feeling exhausted, even though we had only done a couple of miles!

We then came up to the left turn for Garvald, which involved another sharp descent followed by another steep climb with a hairpin bend that had me puffing and panting again. The road then descended into a pleasant valley with, you’ve guessed it, yet another steep climb at the far end, which took us to the village of Garvald.

The road from Garvald rose relentlessly, taking us past Nunraw and Nunraw Abbey, where we stopped to read the info board outside. The history was interesting, with the Cistertians being evicted long ago then returning in the 1950s, taking up residence in a more modern-looking building that you might have expected for an abbey. We didn’t catch sight of any of the white and black robed monks though.

There followed more down and up, taking us past Castle Moffat, which appeared to be a farm with folly-like fortifications. I thought it looked unusual, but Colette didn’t take a photo as the light was poor – the promised sunshine was distinctly lacking.

Going onwards took us up onto treeless moorland. Without any wind to speak of, it was perfectly peaceful, with just the odd grouse call to break the silence. There was still a good amount of climbing to do before we reached the top of the road though, some of it very steep.

White Castle Fort

We stopped for a wee break at White Castle Fort – a bronze age fort consisting of several concentric circles of earthworks. The view from there down over East Lothian was amazing and Colette wandered round taking photos.

The seemingly endless moor road…

After more climbing, the road reached its highest point and continued in a winding, undulating fashion across the moor. On a summer’s day, and if we weren’t already exhausted, this would be a fantastic road to cycle along. However, our main thought at this time was to reach Whiteadder Reservoir, where we were going to stop for lunch.

Whiteadder Reservoir

We caught sight of the reservoir after turning a corner and the road downhill from there got us to the waterside quickly. The flask and sandwiches were unpacked and a quick lunch was had. It was too cold to hang around doing nothing and when we got back on our bikes, the stiff climb up from the reservoir served to warm us up again.

Our route back took us along the B6355, which was relatively flat for a while, then turned a corner and began to climb right to the top of the hill as far as the eye could see. It was quite demoralising, and one of those cases where you just need to keep your head down and only look a few yards ahead. Twenty minutes or so later, we reached the highest point on our route, and of our cycling journeys thus far. The OS map puts this at a shade under 1400 feet (the data above from MapMyRide consistently underestimates our climbs!).

The road then turned right, and finally we were onto some consistent downhill. I didn’t go too fast though, as the windchill was cooling me down too much. Lots of braking was needed on a 17% section with a couple of tricky bends throw in – if it had gone on for much longer I’d have got cramp in my right hand, I was squeezing so hard!

It wasn’t long before we’d reached the place where we turned off for Garvald, then there were a couple of steep down and ups to get through before we reached the final run in to Gifford, when the sun finally came out from behind the clouds. We stopped at the cafe and had cups of tea and some of their lovely carrot cake to end our day out. I don’t think we’ve ever done a route with quite so many hills before. It was very hard, but we survived and we’re looking forward to the next one!

We were looking for something a bit different, and Colette found on the internet some signposted cycle routes starting in Selkirk. She liked the sound of the magenta route – a loop from Selkirk, running via Midlem and Lilliesleaf. So we put the bikes on the back of the car and drove down to Selkirk, quite slowly as it turned out, due to 4 sets of roadworks on the A7 between Heriot and Gala.

We were supposed to start from the leisure centre on Buccleuch Road, but we couldn’t find it. So we parked close to the Selkirk Victoria Campsite, which can’t have been too far off. The magenta route started at the riverside and ran down to the main bridge across the Ettrick Water. We were supposed to turn left here, towards the town centre, but there were some kind of roadworks in the town and this road had been changed to one way, with the direction of travel going the wrong way for us. We decided to push our bikes up this road on the pavement, rather than take the diversion signs, which might have seen us lose the magenta trail completely.

The road then dipped and climbed sharply taking us to the town centre. From there, we followed the magenta route signs into a residential area. The sign then directed us down another temporary one way system before we came to the edge of town and the bottom of a very steep hill. It was a long, slow slog, but we made our way up to the top of Lindean Moor, with an extensive view out to our left and a big radio (TV?) mast to the right.

Lindean Reservoir

Following the route, we then reached Lindean Reservoir and paused to read the info boards and look in vain for any signs of wildlife. So we carried on and shortly we reached the village of Midlem. This is a very picturesque little village, and somewhat out of place, as if it had been beamed in from somewhere in the middle of England. There is probably an interesting story behind it, but we didn’t stop to find out and the downward gradient of the road rapidly swept us away out the other side.

By this time, it was approaching noon and we were thinking about stopping to eat our picnic lunch. At Toftbarns, the route took us right, alongside Ale Water until we reached a ford. It looked about 20 feet wide and the depth was hard to predict, so we consulted the route map, which told us that there was a path to a footbridge – I had completely failed to notice that as we passed it earlier.

Footbridge over the Ale Water, and time for lunch!

Crossing the footbridge, it occurred to me that this would be a nice place to stop and have lunch. So we unpacked and got our flask of tea and sandwiches out. Soon, we were rushing to pick everything up again as four dogs came to introduce themselves, followed by their lady owner. Perhaps this wasn’t the most convenient place to have a picnic after all!

After we finished, we continued along the narrow path on the other side of the footbridge, to find a proper picnic site just a hundred yards or so further down. We felt quite silly…

The path joined onto a road that led uphill to the village of Lilliesleaf. We turned right onto the narrow road running through the village then took the right fork following the B6400 when we reached the unusually-named Jammy Coo (a gift shop, possibly?).

It had to happen sometime – the dreaded “p”-word.

After a mile or so of fairly flat riding, we were going back uphill steeply. I stopped on a corner for Colette to catch up but when I started off again, something didn’t feel right – I had got a puncture: the first I’d ever needed to fix while out cycling. Luckily I had a suitable spare inner tube, and after removing the large thorn, it went on fairly easily. I was a bit blase actually, and forgot to reattach my front brake after putting the wheel back on. That caused a slight quickening of the heartbeat when I realised my omission on the next downhill!

Next we arrived at the hamlet of Clerklands, with some impressively large new houses on show. A side road ran steeply up from there and I hoped this wasn’t our route. We looked around and didn’t see a magenta route sign, so just carried on along the B6400 instead. This is where we made our mistake!

We then reached the A7, and consulting the route guide, we were supposed to turn right then take the first left. When we finally managed to get onto the main road between the fast-moving traffic, we found the road going steeply upwards. It was hard going, and over a mile had passed without any sign of a left turn. We paused in a layby next to a small loch and realised that we must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. However, the road was taking us back in the direction of Selkirk, so if all else failed, the A7 would take us back to the car.

Carrying on, we reached the spot where we were supposed to have turned onto the A7, and very soon afterwards turned left, returning to quiet roads. We started climbing again, reaching the top of another moor, then descended steeply towards Ettrick Water.

We then turned right onto the B7009 which climbed away from the river then descended back into Selkirk. Here, we met up with the one-way road that gave us the trouble initially, but we were going the right way this time. We freewheeled down it, turning right before the bridge, into Victoria Park and back to the car.

We woke to another sunny autumn day and wondered if we had time for a cycle. A quick look at the forecast was promising, so the current redecorating project was going to have to take a wee break.

The plan we decided on was to cycle to Stow, stop for a cuppa, then come back home. The A7 would take us as far as Heriot, then we would use the back road from there. As it turned out, the traffic on the A7 was a bit lighter than we expected. In the time taken to do 300 full pedal strokes, we were overtaken by just 3 trucks and 3 cars. So by the time we reached the Heriot turnoff, we decided to stay on the A7 all the way there.

That meant we had to wait a few minutes at the traffic lights for the road works at Heriot. With a queue of cars behind, we pedalled hard through the road works then relaxed into our more usual sedate pace on the other side, when the traffic could then overtake. Actually, we appear to have averaged over 15mph from this point, which must mean that we were going downhill, even though it looked pretty flat.

After Fountainhall, we ran into a light sun shower. My glasses got covered in a mist of water droplets, and as we rode towards the low sun, it was hard to see very far ahead. Luckily the shower didn’t last and visibility was restored for the run-in to Stow.

Just as we entered the town/village (Stow is one of those inbetween places in terms of size), a lorry overtook Colette and was trying to overtake me. I squeezed past a parked van against a long line of oncoming traffic, but the lorry had to wait, holding up all the traffic behind (including Colette). So I had a bit of a wait for Colette to reappear where I was waiting at the Lauder Road turnoff. We then continued uphill for a few yards till we reached the Cloud House Cafe. It had only taken just over an hour to get there.

We ordered tea for two and some hot filled rolls. Colette fancied the egg and potato scone combo, while I went for black pudding. They both went down a treat. We also chatted to the owner who was interested in how we found the trip out along the A7. She said that it has been much quieter of late, with the cafe being empty at some times when it is normally very busy. The Borders Railway works got the blame, and we all had a good moan about how it was affecting us. At least Stow will be getting a station, which should hopefully be good for business in the long term.

The back road with the A7 on the right and Borders railway inbetween

For the return leg, we took the quiet back road instead of the A7, making it into a circular route. We prefer circular routes, even though this one was technically rather than literally circular! But that meant a steep climb up past the primary school then onwards in the direction of Fountainhall. In contrast to the seemingly flat A7, the back road is distinctly undulating, but it makes up for that by being very quiet. That meant it was more conducive to stop for photo taking (of which there was none along the A7). It was interesting to observe the activity on the Border Railway line construction that cuts a path between the back road and the A7.

There was construction activity all the way along the railway

The stiff westerly breeze made its presence felt along this part of the trip, slowing us down on several occasions, but not as much as some of the steep hills. I’ve given up trying to get up hills as fast as possible now, and just select a low gear and enjoy the ride.

Looking forward to some uphill action!

We reached Heriot then turned left back onto the A7 for the final few miles. Once home, we had a small second lunch and I had a long snooze – the joys of being retired!

On a nice sunny, calm Sunday morning, we couldn’t miss the chance for a quick cycle. The only problem was the hard frost and temperature hovering just above zero. So we wrapped up warm and made sure to ride carefully over any icy bits.

For this ride, I decided to take a cheap old bike we’d bought from ASDA about 10 years ago, and which I had started tinkering with. My aim is to end up with a serviceable spare bike that we can offer to visitors who might want to join us on our rides. The main drawback with this bike at the moment is the lack of mudguards, which soon became evident as we cycled past Middleton Limeworks. There has been constant traffic over the last few weeks with tipper trucks conveying soil to the quarry from various sites along the Borders Railway project. This has muddied up the roads around the quarry, and I soon felt mud spraying into my face off my front tyre.

As soon as we got away from the dumper truck route, the conditions improved dramatically, and we could start to enjoy the ride. We headed out past Outerston and up the short steep hill to Yorkston, where the lack of any low gears on my bike made me work hard to keep moving. We then rode on to Rosebery Reservoir, looking very peaceful in the bright, calm conditions. The water level seemed somewhat lower than on our previous visit.

Quiet roads on a sunny Sunday morning

Climbing up the other side, we reached the B6372, where we turned right past Rosebery Farm, then left onto the track leading to Edgelaw Reservoir. The puddles in the pot holes were all frozen over and made a satisfying crunch as we went through them. At the end of the track, we turned right to take a look at the revervoir. In contrast to Rosebery, this reservoir was now full. It was hard to believe that during the summer we could walk out a full 100 yards till we reached the water’s edge.

Edgelaw Reservoir now full again

After leaving the reservoir, we rode up past Edgelaw farm and onwards to Carrington. We took the road leading to Temple from there and caught up with a horse-drawn carriage out for a Sunday jaunt. The driver joked “No speeding!” as we went past – “Not much chance of that!”, we had to admit.

Ignoring the Temple turnoff, we headed in the direction of Birkenside as far as the right turn for Castleton, where Colette and I parted company. She was going to ride to Birkenside and then back home via the A7, while I wanted to go on the hillier back route via Halkerston. It was a bit of a challenge on the old junk bike, and typically, just as I was struggling up the hardest section, another cyclist shot past effortlessly in the opposite direction. I pedalled on up the hill, keeping pace to the tune of the Bonnie Banks of Loch Lomond which was going through my mind, and was halfway up the hill before I realised the significance. Colette took the low road, and got home a minute or so before me.

At the end of the run, I felt a good bit more tired than I should have for just 15 miles. That old bike must have made me work a bit harder than normal, and I have to admit that the experience wasn’t as pleasant as my usual bike, but it performed pretty well and isn’t ready for the skip just yet.