Colette asked: “Where are you taking me on our next adventure, then?” just after I’d been watching the latest episode from Rusty Rides Gravel. So I suggested Glen Tilt, which looked fabulous from Rusty’s drone footage. So it was decided, and the next day, we were up bright and early to beat the worst of the bypass traffic and head north to Blair Atholl. The forecast was for a warm, dry day, with scarcely a breath of wind and the prospect of sunny intervals in the afternoon.
We parked in the car park next to the chip shop, which I figured might come in handy if we were feeling hungry after our ride. Setting off, we turned left and a short while later turned right at the gates for Blair Castle. I didn’t expect them to be locked though, which meant a hasty rethink of my pre-planned route. However, a dog walker kindly directed us to the pedestrian access just to the right of the imposing gates, which quickly brought us back on track.
I don’t think we caught sight of the castle at all before we turned away right onto a gravel track that took us past some holiday chalets up to the actual Glen Tilt car park. Beyond that, we reached a crossroads, where we took the gated access to Glen Tilt. That took us onto a rough track that was also pretty steep to start with.
After a wee while, the gradient eased significantly, as we emerged from thick woodland. To our right was a steep wooded drop to River Tilt, which we could hear but not see at this point.
The road meandered and undulated in and out of light woodland for a couple of miles until the trees largely disappeared, and we could properly make out Glen Tilt unfolding in front of us. The glen is long and straight, with steep sides and a small river running through, with many dark pools and picturesque waterfalls. At its lower end, there is more in the way of flat valley bottom, but as you progress upwards, this gradually narrows till it disappears and the glen turns from a U to a V shape.
At one point, we paused at a bridge to take in the view, where we could see a lone figure, who Colette likened to Gandalf, staff in hand, leading a white horse halfway up the opposite side of the glen. The remote and rugged scenery certainly had more than a little of Middle Earth about it.
We passed a fairly substantial lodge at the start of an isolated section of woodland, after which the trees disappeared and the road got considerably rougher. There were a few fairly steep ups and downs too, and at one point, as I struggled to keep going, I caught a glimpse of the track rising even steeper ahead of me. That made me lose concentration, and I nearly rode into the ditch on my left, after which I ground to a halt and almost fell over.
In the commotion, I managed to drop the chain both front and back. It wasn’t easy freeing the chain from between the big cog of the cassette and the spokes, but I managed it eventually and had a pair of blackened hands to show for it. I guess this is what the clutch on the rear derailleur is meant to help with. I should have had it turned on for this rough section.
It also turned out that I was worrying unnecessarily about the unexpectedly steep track, as it wasn’t our path anyway. Ours took a sharp downhill from here and kept close to the river.
We passed a few walkers on this section, and were overtaken by a couple of mountain bikers just as we reached the end of the landrover track. About a quarter of a mile ahead of us was our destination, the Falls of Tarf, but the track between us and that was now a narrow, rocky walking path. Even the mountain bikers were pushing their bikes, it was so steep and rough.
Colette opted to leave her bike and walk the last wee bit, while I dragged mine along with me, just for the hell of it. And there was the odd wee bit where I could ride, including the final approach to the falls and the bridge.
We made our way over the bridge and took time for a snack (as long as the midgies would allow), then took some more time to admire the falls. This is where River Tarf joins the Tilt in spectacular fashion, in multiple falls and pools. A plaque tells of the tragic story behind the building of the current bridge in the 19th century, and another plaque reassures that it has been maintained since. The gaps between the planks made Colette feel uneasy, but at no more than an inch wide, there wasn’t much danger of her slipping in between them!
Now that we had reached our destination, it was just a case of reversing our tracks to go back. The first bit was tricky walking track, but it wasn’t long before we were back on our bikes. On the reverse route, we were heading downhill overall, so our speed was quicker than on the way up. That meant that the bumpy nature of the track was amplified. Although the gravel bikes were perfectly capable of this, I got the feeling that it would have been more comfortable on mountain bikes, with suspension and fatter tyres taking the sting out of the lumps and bumps.
With narrower tyres on her bike than mine, Colette was feeling more shoogled than I was, to the extent that she felt her eyeballs were wobbling around so much that she couldn’t focus properly! Luckily, we reached the end of the track soon after that, Colette’s eyes returned to normal, and we returned to the car park on tarmac, a slightly different way than we had gone out.
Back a the car park, we couldn’t resist the smell of chips, and shared a wee tray between us before heading home. The sun, which had eluded us for most of our ride, decided to come out as soon as we’d finished. I guess the scenery would have been even more impressive if we’d have started our ride later in the day, but we’re early birds, so that’s just too bad.
Thinking again about Colette’s problem with the rough gravel (which wasn’t evident on our last ride, where the gravel tracks were pretty smooth), it comes down to getting the compromise right between tyres that are wide enough for comfort off-road, while still being fast enough on the road. I’m coming to the conclusion that what we really need to do is invest in a spare set of wheels, so we can have one set with wide, grippy tyres for the rough stuff, and another with skinny tyres for road-centric cycles. Or maybe we should just dust off her old mountain bike!