I have been using the bicycle as an everyday means of travel for about 20 years now, and have done a fair bit of short touring. So when I saw this wee film I just felt the need to share it. Enjoy!
Entries tagged with “cycle touring”.
Tue 4 Mar 2014
Sat 25 Aug 2012
If you haven’t read part one (Saturday to Tuesday), it is here.
Which brings us to Wednesday: it rained, so we watched the Olympics on TV and made just one brief foray out to the Lockerbie Truck Stop, to get a paper.
On Thursday, we had two objectives: one, to visit a Historic Scotland property so that we could use our membership card and two, to meet up with a fellow blogger. Given these requirements, the obvious places to go to were Caerlaverock and Dumfries. The ride down to Caerlaverock was fairly straightforward, riding along the pretty, quiet roads of Annandale, although it was somewhat into the wind. At Dalton we had the novelty of finding a village with a pub (which hosts a Thai restaurant), but it was too early for lunch so we carried on south. Apparently, Dalton also has a Pottery Art Café, which is the sort of business which I had hoped to see more of, but we didn’t, because we took an even quieter road (and there were no signs for it in the centre of the village).
Further along the road, before reaching Ruthwell, we missed the opportunity to see the Ruthwell Cross, one of the finest Anglo-Saxon crosses in the UK. I think there was a sign for this, but it wasn’t until I did the research for this post that I realised it was worth a detour. Oh well, next time. We also missed the Savings Banks Museum, this one was clearly signed posted in Ruthwell, another thing to visit next time round. It was at Ruthwell that we picked up the NCN 7 Lochs & Glens (South) cycle route. For few miles we were side on to the wind for a change rather than a head wind, but it wasn’t to last. At Bankend we turned straight into the wind once again, I took the front forging forward allowing Ulli to shelter behind me. It was hard work but didn’t mind, well until the road started to rise up I started to flag, at which point Ulli promptly nipped out and dropped me. That girl watches too much pro cycle racing on TV… *Sigh*. (She tells me she was doing a Froome, to my Wiggins being left behind, without the race radio calling her back.)
Arriving at Caerlaverock Castle, I was relieved to find that Historic Scotland has a lovely little café with friendly staff and good food. The castle was the seat of the Maxwell family, and in times past would not have been a comfortable place for a member of the Johnston clan, but those days are gone. In the August sun I rather enjoyed wandering about taking photos of this relic of the past in complete freedom.
It was also interesting to take the short walk through an area of wet woodland to the site of an earlier castle, it was fascinating. There is very little of this type of woodland left in Scotland today, but at one time it would have covered large areas of southern Scotland. So much so that the Romans thought that Northern Scotland was an island cut off from the south by a sea of bog and swamp.
The other good thing about visiting Caerlaverock Castle is that it has a café (have I mentioned the café already?), which is probably why the cycle parking was also full. As it was now late lunchtime, we took full advantage of the café facilities, before setting off for the place a blogging friend of mine calls Big Town, yes, the mighty metropolis that is Dumfries. To get there was simply a case of following the NCN 7, but some of the signage is rather interesting in its suggested routing.
Once you have found your way across the Nith, it is a straight forward ride into Dumfries.
Once in the great metropolis, we looked for the café where we had agreed to meet the lovely Sally Hinchcliffe AKA Town Mouse, who is not nearly as disgruntled as she likes to make out (unless you leave a cheeky comment on her blog). The café in Dock Park would make an idea cycling café, if they went to the effort of adding some cycle parking.
It is one of the ironies of Dumfries and Dumfriesshire that with a little effort it could be a cycling paradise, if they invested in decent infrastructure and made it more welcoming. This is an economically fragile area which has great tourism potential but, they really are missing a trick. A recent European study found that cycle tourism is worth over €44 billion per annum. That is a very big cake, and it is growing. It is also one which Scotland should be trying to take a large slice of, an argument I am sure Cycling Dumfries is making to the powers that be on a regular basis.
After a wee infrastructure safari around Dumfries, looking at the bike hire scheme, some of the pedestrianised centre and some badly congested roads which could easily be sorted out by a Dutch traffic engineer, we could easily see what great potential Dumfries has. If only the town council could see it, Dumfries could be a true cycling town and a very much more pleasant place to live and visit. Interestingly, there are quite a few bike shops in Dumfries, which suggests that bicycle ownership is fairly high. As I was having a wee bit of bother with getting smooth changes on my rear gears, we were taken to probably Dumfries’s best bike shop: Kirkpatrick Cycles. New gear cable fitted, we wended our way home.
Friday: as this was our last full day for touring, we chose to have a relatively flat day, taking in Ae and Lochmaben. The day was punctuated with threats of rain, this never really came to anything (if you discount one short shower where we took cover beneath some trees for ten minutes). This however did offer the opportunity to take a dramatic landscape photo.
The Forest of Ae is a part of the 7stanes (a network of eight mountain biking centres in southern Scotland), and as such I had expected to find a café and shop. But no, the 7stanes website tells me that “Ae, Scotland’s shortest village name is only 20 minutes from the M74 motorway” and “No catering or bike hire available onsite until further notice. Nearby Dumfries has plenty of food and drink options” which says a lot about how this area is failing to capitalise on it cycle tourism potential, they don’t actually expect people to cycle there. Riding up to the village of Ae, there is a pub, but it is only open in the evenings, great.
So onwards, next stop the Barony Country Foods farm shop, or at least that was Ulli’s choice of next stop. However as the Carse of Ae is on a rather good downhill run, I shot straight past and didn’t stop until the road flattened out. Ulli wasn’t best pleased as we pedalled back up the hill. Shopping completed, we carried on to Lochmaben in search of a café for lunch. Fortunately there is a baker’s and café in the middle of the High Strett which served the purpose, sadly no cycle parking outside.
Lunch over, we headed off to see Lochmaben Castle which is now much ruined. It has had a long and turbulent history until the mid 17th century, by which time it had seen its last siege and was gradually abandoned. Originally build by the orders of Edward I of England in 1298, it should not to be confused with an earlier castle built by the Bruce family a short distance away, which is now one of the greens of a nearby golf course. This Lochmaben Castle consists of a few substantial ivy covered walls which could pass for a lost temple in a rain forest. To make sense of it, you really need to read the interpretation boards.
It changed hands throughout the wars of independence. At one time it was under the control of Archie the Grim, 3rd Earl of Douglas. Sometime later during a lull in the wars between England and Scotland, James IV stopped by for an evening of cards with Lord Dacre, Warden of the English March. According to the Lord Treasurer of Scotland, James lost 46s 8d that night. Another royal visitor was Mary Queen of Scots who slept there, well she did get around a lot. A relative of Mary’s, the Earl of Bothwell, captured the castle in 1592, after he entered disguised as a woman and left a door open for his followers. It also played a role in the bitter feud between the Johnstons and the Maxwells, as did most of Dumfriesshire. At some time after 1628 Lochmaben Castle fell into disrepair and stone was robbed out to build Annandale House on the High Street in Lochmaben.
Saturday: We had to be out of the cottage a couple hours before we were due to catch the train we had a reservation for, so we took the long way to the station. Due to a slight disagreement over route, it ended up shorter than intended, however this did mean that we had to fill in time by going to a bakery in Locherbie and putting more money into the Dumfriesshire economy.
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Thu 23 Aug 2012
The decision to take a cottage in Dumfriesshire had been very much last minute, so route planning to get from the station in Lockerbie to the cottage at Yett by Johnstonebridge was sketchy. While we waited for the rain to pass, we stood in the shelter of the station roof looking at the map. To me the obvious route was to follow the National Cycle Network (NCN) Route 74 to Johnstonebridge and then backtrack a couple of Km south. This was slightly longer than winding through the minor roads, but had the advantage of being straightforward, without the need to stop at every junction to check the way, what could possibly go wrong? Well the NCN 74, called the “Moss, Motte and Motorway Cycle Route”, follows the B7076, formerly the A74 which has been replaced by the A74(M).
Got all that? Good, I shall continue, the road was straight and fast, so not so pleasant to cycle on, it was also right next to the Motorway. We quickly decided the best thing to do was to look for a turn off onto the first minor road and find our way along the roads less travelled, so it was we found a more relaxed route to the cottage…
Arriving at the cottage we were meet by the owner, who had offered to get us a few groceries, when we told her we were arriving by train and bike. This was the first time we had attempted a cottage based holiday by bicycle, we had our things in our panniers but not much in the way of food. Therefore, having unpacked and found our way around our home for the week, the next priority was to find out where the local shops were and get some food in. This is where advance planning is helpful, but we hadn’t actually done much. The nearest village is Johnstonebridge, about 2 Km away, had (like so many villages in this area) lost it shop. There is however a motorway service station by Johnstonebridge, accessed via the NCN 74, which offers limited shopping (mostly in the petrol station). We had also been told the Lockerbie Truck Stop has a small shop. This is 3 Km south of the service station along the NCN 74, and explains why there is so much heavy traffic on a B road (we later found there is a back road which can be used for access without the heavy traffic). As we set off to cycle there, the rain started. We arrived only to find that the shop closes early on Saturdays. The ride back to the cottage was wet, so we were glad that it was equipped with a washing machine, in which we could spin dry clothes, and central heating. Fortunately, we had enough food to cover our evening meal and breakfast.
Sunday morning, the rain had passed over night and so we ready to start exploring the local countryside and visit Lockerbie for some shopping. To the west of the motorway there are lots of quiet roads and odd wee places to explore, the likes of Applegarth.
Arriving in Lockerbie one finds there is little of interest you hold you there, so we just nipped into Tesco, picked up the shopping we needed and headed home. One of the good things about a cycling holiday like this is that going out for the shopping is enjoyable, even if all you do is go to a very dull supermarket. It is the journey either side which makes it fun (and the sunshine helps as well).
The following day we decided to try going in the opposite direction and head for Moffat, again trying to use the wee roads where possible…
and were rewarded with great views of the Annandale landscape. At one stage we had to pull of the road to let a herd of cows, which were being moved between fields, pass. On another part of the road we had to take it slowly as there was a loose heifer and we had to let her find her own way back into the field she had come from.
Moffat itself is a pleasant wee town, which would have great charm if its central area wasn’t used as a car park (there must be some hidden corner where they could be dumped to keep them out of sight, although the obese owners of these obese vehicles might object to having to waddle that far). The town is fortunate enough to have a fine range of local shops, probably due to the absence of a major supermarket (unless you count the Co-Op in Station Yard). Oddly Moffat markets itself as a “Walkers are Welcome town“, and yet there isn’t a single walking or outdoor equipment shop. Nor for that matter was there a bike shop, although there were a fair number of local utility cyclists. It is a shame that it has yet to market itself as a “Cyclists are Welcome town” as it has great potential.
After lunch at a Moffat café we headed north to visit the Devil’s Beef Tub. Most visitors go to see the Devil’s Beef Tub from above via the A701, but following our theme of taking the road less travelled, we rode to the bottom of the Beef Tub, where the Border Reivers once hid their (usually stolen) cattle. Riding up the glen towards Corehead, which the Beef Tub is a part of, it was easy to see why it was a good place for hiding cattle.
The hills rise up and enfold the head of the glen, an easily defensible area:
Time for a digression: Corehead and the Devil’s Beef Tub have great cultural and historical significance in the Borders. In the 13th century the laird of Corehead Tower, Sir Thomas Halliday, was married to the sister of one William le Waleys (or wee Wullie Wallace, as he is sometimes known). Just for the sake of historical accuracy, it should be pointed out that he didn’t paint his face blue, and it is very unlikely that he spoke with an Australian accent. What is more certain is that he raised the Border clans at Corehead for his first attack against the English in 1297. The rest is a Hollywood movie, which the SNP now find slightly embarrassing. Sometime after, this area passed into the ownership of the Moffat clan, who held the land until they lost a feud with the Johnstons of Annandale. The Johnstons were one of the most powerful of the Border clans, and noted for their feuding (usually with the Maxwells, with whom they managed to have a continued feud lasting around 400 years, the longest in Border history). The Moffats suffered their greatest calamity in 1557 when the Johnstons set fire to a local church while most senior members of the Moffat clan happened to be inside. Seventy years later all the Moffat lands had passed to the Johnstons on account of the Moffats accruing massive debts. One final note on the Johnstons, following the Union of the Crowns in 1603: when King James VI rode south to become King James I of England, he needed to pacify the Borders. To achieve this, he deported or executed the worst of the troublemakers. This included a good many Johnstons who were bundled off to Ireland, where they became known as the ‘Gentle’ Johnstons. It is from this group that my mother’s family descends.
OK, back to the story of our cycling holiday. On the ride back from Moffat we spotted a pair of Red Kites (Milvus milvus) and a spitfire, one of the great things about riding a bike is that you have the opportunity to look around for these sort of things as well as the freedom to stop and stare. We also passed a place called Wamphray, which looked like it might be worth another look.
Tuesday: we decided to strike out towards Eskdalemuir, via Wamphray and Boreland, then returning via Castle O’er and Lockerbie. The first part of this ride took us back for that second look at Wamphray, this time up past the mill and the church. As we passed the mill I thought I must take a photo of that on the way back, but we didn’t come back that way, so you will have to make do with this property schedule. However, we when we got to the Church, I did stop and get the camera out.
After leaving the church, we stopped again further up the hill to take some photos, oh hang on, I think I might have the got the roof of the Mill in this one…
Dumfriesshire is a great place for cycle touring, but there is just one thing with touring though this sort of landscape, you just have to keep stopping to take more photos.
Arriving at Boreland we were disappointed to find there was no tea room or even a shop, so we pressed on towards Eskdalemuir. On the map the road is shown as passing through wall to wall trees, but as we came by, it was bounded by large areas of clear fell, which are slowly being replanted. The road itself was mostly quiet with the exception of the odd timber lorry, fortunately they gave us plenty of space.
Arriving in the village of Eskdalemuir, we were again disappointed to find that there was no shop of café, however we weren’t to downhearted, as we knew that there was one just up the road, at the local Tibetan Buddhist monastery.
Personally I wasn’t overly impressed by the café, but Ulli liked it. This was also the first place that we saw cyclists in any numbers, probably because it was the only cake stop for miles around. This is one of the differences between the Borders and the Highlands, in the Highlands just about every small community has a bookshop/art gallery/café/ ceilidh place and a pub. Whereas the Borders lack these amenities, which is a wee bit of a nuisance. However, there is a solution to this, promote cycling in the Borders! There are lots of interesting wee roads and the place is ideal for cycle tourism. This will lead to increased demand for cake stops, B&Bs, small shops and other economic activity, after all on the mainland of Europe cycle tourism is worth over £20Bn a year.
Cake consumed, we set out for Castle O’er, following the White Esk upstream on the west bank. We noticed two sets of signs along this road, first there rather faded ones saying National Byway cycle route and the second set of signs were for the Eskdale Prehistoric Trail. This second set was supplemented with a number of display boards along the way, explaining the lumps and bumps in the landscape, showing the long history (and prehistory) of human settlement. It was an interesting ride. One such site was the Deil’s Jingle near the confluence of the White and Black Esk, which was a late iron age or early medieval boundary. There are also a number of bronze age and iron age settlements and hill forts. So it was that we wound our way to Lockerbie and from there we took our now familiar way home.
Just noticed that this post is getting a wee bit long, so I am splitting it in two, in the second part we visit, Caerlaverock, the Forest of Ae, Lochmaben, and meet another Blogger (who is lovely). Part two will be along shortly…
part two will be along shortly…
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Thu 15 Sep 2011
Five years ago I wrote a post about cycle touring is now fashionable and since that time I have undertake a fair bit of cycling tourism my self (as you will realise from reading this blog). So I was pleased to see today a report from the European Cyclists Federation (ECF) on Changing times for the Cycling Tourism showing that it’s a real bread winner for local economies across the EU. Here in the UK we are increasingly seeing workshops run for those in the tourism sector on the benefits of cycle tourism and highlight potential of mountain biking tourism.
Even previously staid Tourist Boards jumping on the bandwagon all being under the label of “Adventure and Outdoor Sports Holidays“, which just shows they haven’t really done their market research very thoroughly, as according to some market analysis, the average age of cycle tourers is between 45-55 years. Also in resent year there has also be an increase in the number of family groups showing an interest in cycle touring holidays.
There is some evidence that policy makers have taken this on board and while initiatives such as the Scottish Borders Recreational Cycling Group securing £175,000 in funding are to be welcomed, there is a very real need for a more broad based approach. We need a long term cultural change which sees the bicycle as a legitimate form of transport, not just a sporting toy. There is much to be gained and nothing to lose, so what is holding us back, we have the Cycling Action Plan for Scotland all we have to do is implement it!
The ECF have issued another new report which estimates the value to local economies across Europe of cycle tourism on the Trans-European Cycling Network (which includes route in Britain and Ireland) to be €5 billion annually, and that doesn’t include the smaller local cycle routes (or Lands End-John O’ Groats).
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Sun 3 Jul 2011
We had cycled down to Broughton from Edinburgh the day before, and now the day dawned bright (well dawn had actually been some hours before). It had been a peaceful night, apart from the odd bark from the farm dogs down the road, and the strange noises from across the road. Setting out we noticed that the horse which had been in a temporary paddock across the road, had disappeared, but this is the Scottish Borders which has a long tradition of lifting livestock, so a spot of horse rustling was only to be expected. Then again, maybe it was just that the other guests at the B&B (who had left early) were part of the big riding group touring the Borders. As we had entered Broughton the day before we had noticed a large collection of temporary paddocks, each with a single horse, in a field just outwith the village. Either way, it was a glorious day to be touring (in our case by bicycle) in the Scottish Borders.
Riding into the village, we briefly considered stopping at the Buchan museum, but only briefly. The museum is dedicated to John Buchan, son of a Free Church minister, the some time author, lawyer, and politician, who used to holiday in the village as a child, with his grandparents. After writing a few books, making some money and doing a wee bit of travel, he had a holiday home built in the style of a 17th-century tower house, in 1938, to reflect his newly acquired title of 1st Baron Tweedsmuir. Not that he had much time to enjoy it, as he was packed off to Canada as Governor General and died there of a stroke in 1940. One day we will get around to visiting the museum, just not on this day. Another thing I would like to have done in Broughton was to visit Broughton Ales, having enjoyed their Clipper IPA the night before, but on this occasion it was a wee bit early in the morning for visiting a brewery.
We turned away from the main road to follow the River Tweed eastward, passing Drumelzier with its ancient hill forts and the remains of Tinnis castle. According to Arthurian legend, the wizard Merlin was imprisoned in a thorn tree, by Morgan la Fay, somewhere in this glen.
Another local story talks of a character called Merlin Sylvestris, court bard to Gwenddoleu ap Ceidio, who ruled a kingdom around the Solway Firth in the middle of the 6th century. This was a rather fractious period in British history, the Romans had just left, the Saxons had started moving in and the native Brythonic warlords were carving out kingdoms for themselves. So it was that Gwenddoleu ap Ceidio picked a fight with Riderch Hael, King of Strathclyde, they met in a bloody skirmish (which became known as the Battle of Arderyth) in 573 somewhere near Peebles. The battle saw the annihilation of Gwenddoleu’s army, however Merlin survived and fled into the forest, suffering a bad case of PTSD.
While he was wandering about the woods, he bumped into a monk called Kentigern (A.K.A. St. Mungo, who went on to found an obscure town on the banks of Clyde), who spent a long time talking to him. He eventually converted Merlin to Christianity, which in the dark ages was the standard treatment for PTSD, if the chroniclers are to be believed. Merlin’s conversion took place at Altarstone which is a wee bit further down the glen on the far side of the Tweed (the actual stone now forms part of the baptismal font in Stobo Kirk). At his baptism, Merlin foresaw his own death, forecasting that he would suffer three deaths, being cudgelled, drowned and stabbed.
Later the same day he had a run in with a group of Riderch Hael’s followers, who bludgeoned him with cudgel, knocking him into river. He was carried down stream and impaled on a stake. Merlin was buried between the Pausayl Burn and the river Tweed, marked with a thorn tree. This is not quite the end of the story, though, move forward to the 13th Century and Thomas Learmonth, A.K.A. Thomas the Rhymer (who had apparently spent seven years away with the fairies after falling asleep under a tree on the Eildon Hills, although he claimed that it was only three days). He penned some lines saying that “When Tweed and Powsail meet at Merlin’s grave, Scotland and England shall one monarch have.”
Zooming forward along the timeline again, to 25th July 1603, a flood caused the Tweed to burst its banks and meet with the Pausayl Burn, something which apparently hadn’t happened before or since. The same day in London, James the VI of Scotland was crowned James the I, King of Scotland, England, France and Ireland (the France bit was a wee bit presumptious, as the Tudors had already lost all the French possessions).
Now, had I researched all this before we set out for the weekend, we would have gone looking for Merlin’s grave, which is apparently marked by a small plaque at the base of a thorn tree. However, I didn’t, so we didn’t and now it is time to get back to writing about what we actually did.
As we approached Dawyck Botanic Gardens, Ulli asked if we should go in. I pointed out that we would have to pay, as I hadn’t brought my old RBGE ID badge with me. Doing things on the spur of the moment is great fun, but there are times when a wee bit of prior planning doesn’t go astray.
Beyond Stobo, to avoid the main road (A72), we turned off onto a footpath and crossed back over the Tweed. It was the sort of mad off-road route which I normally associate with the NCN cycle routes, but this time it was our choice to avoid the main road. At the end of the footpath there was a junction, with a “public” road to the right and an estate road straight ahead. At the start of the estate road there was a big notice stating that it was a “PRIVATE ROAD” and “No Entrance to unauthorised vehicles or bicycles unless on Estate business”. Evidently the owners, Elizabeth and David Benson, are unfamiliar with the Land Reform (Scotland) Act 2003, which established “statutory public rights of access to land for recreational and other purposes”. This includes the right to walk, ride a bicycle or a horse along any estate road. It is also interesting to note that in 2004 Barns Estate was described as the site of “Britain’s worst wildlife crime”, after the gamekeeper was convicted of poisoning 20 raptors. So we are not talking about enlightened land owners here.
We turned right onto the public road, a short way up we came across a dead mole (Talpa caeca) in the middle of the road. There was no obvious cause of death, but it was a sunny day, so maybe it had wandered onto the road over night then gotten lost and not been able to dig for shelter. Seeing a mole like that is very rare, so I was really surprised when a few hundred meters up the road and round the corner we came across another one. Other wildlife highlights of the day included four stoats (Mustela erminea) (three alive and dispersing into the hedgerows, one flattened on the road) and a buzzard (Buteo buteo) in a spruce tree (Picea sitchensis).
As we came down to The Glack, there was another junction, I saw a cycle route sign pointing straight ahead so headed off. I was about half way up the hill when I noticed that Ulli was no longer following me. I backtracked to the junction, to find her pointing to the cycle route sign pointing the other way, apparently that was the one we wanted. It was only after a check of the map that I noticed the route I had taken was a dead end. Oops.
Crossing the Manor Water, slightly to my disappointment, we took the southern route round Cademuir Hill. This meant that we missed out the viewpoint at Manor Sware, oh and a steep climb, but sometimes you just have to miss out on these things. Then again, the views we did get weren’t at all bad.
Onwards to Peebles then? No, stay south of the river and skirt through the King’s Muir, just as well that I wasn’t doing the navigating. Ulli was rather keen to visit the Osprey Centre at Kailzie, until she found that it was a shed by a pond with a video feed from the nest. Apparently the ospreys do occasionally fish from the pond, but this isn’t guaranteed, they are wild birds after all. Still, it did give us the opportunity to nip into the gift shop at the Gardens to get a wee present for the friends who were giving us lunch in Innerleithen.
Lunch over, we set out up the Leithen Water along the NCN 1, something we had done before, so rather than try to describe the ride up through the Moorfoot Hills (which you can read about in the above link), I thought I would put in some photos instead.
Topping out of the final climb on the shoulder of Broad Law, this time we were greeted with fine views to the Pentland Hills and north the Firth of Forth, Fife and beyond.
Coming down from Broad Law, as before, we were met with something of a headwind, which I decided not to fight and coasted rather than sprinting for speed. I was saving my energy for the road beyond Middleton, which, the last time we had been that way, had been appalling. This time we found that the worst sections had been resurfaced and it was considerably better than it had been, but there were still rough sections. Just past Middleton we stopped to look at Arthur’s Seat, home seemed so close, but we still had miles to go, and the small matter of crossing the river Esk. The Esk may only be a small river, but it runs in a steep sided glen, which makes it difficult to cross (unless you use one of the big busy roads which also involves negotiating some pretty gnarly roundabouts), whereas the NCN1 swings wide to the east on a large dogleg, to cross lower down the Esk, and then takes you on a winding route into Edinburgh. We prefer to leave the NCN1 at Carrington, cross the Esk above Dalkeith and take a more direct route into the city.
We decided to cross at Roslin Glen, this is not an ideal route for everyone, most sane people wouldn’t welcome a 16% climb after 80Km of riding on a bike with panniers, but we knew from experience that we could do it, if we took it slow and steady. I was surprised to find that I didn’t have to drop to the lowest gear available, and that when I reached the top on the Roslin side, I still had a couple of cogs to spare, so I am starting to wonder if it really is 16%?
Another thing which may seem odd about our choice of route was the decision to go to Gowkley Moss (rather than through the village to Bilston). For those who don’t know the area, the roundabout at Gowkley Moss is big and scary (and that is not just for cyclists), so why were we choosing to go that way? Well there is a secret way around for cyclists wanting to bypass the roundabout. Just before you get there, turn right unto the old road, which comes to a dead end after 50 m, then follow the path past the roundabout and you will come out just by the pedestrian crossing lights on the north side. From there it is a straight run into Edinburgh.
There is a map of our route here.
My stats were:
- Distance cycled – 93.9 Km
- Time spent riding – 04:38:42
- Max Speed – 50.8 Km/h
- Ave Speed – 20.2 Km/h
- Vertical climb – 750 ca. m