Well it appears that a level of fortune was with me last weekend, an invitation posted on Fannycrack to participate on a local ride with my cycling club and a maternal and lovely lady offering her child care assistance in order for me to represent the local biking ladies. It just couldn't get any better, oh wait it does, the sun was shining and the Scottish foreseeable Autumn seemed to have put it self on hold. The 6 of us rendezvoused at the ice factor in Kinlochleven and started our 300 metre ascent to the Penstalk on the West Highland Way and access road to the Blackwater dam and to follow the Ciaran Path back down into Kinlochleven.
The dam is a remarkable feat of engineering and the longest in the Highlands, standing 27M hight it was built using hand tools at an elevation of 305 M, nearly 13K of steel pipe lead up to the dam, and 6km of concrete conduit. Its an impressive build in the middle of the Highlands.The climb up with 5 athletic but on the wrong side of 30 men had me in a red, hot and sweaty mess, and not because they were athletic, this weather was proving to be something I was not expecting. The cloudless blue sky was also sporting some phenomenal views of Stob Bhan and the Mamores. Enough to forget my central overheating and gasp a breath of some fresh wild air.
Along the conduit, we paired up and embraced in some conventional conversation about traveling, children, university, flat screen TV's and of course bike parts. None the less the Blackwater dam was in our sites and this dry spell had left its mark on the huge water mass, with piles of rubble in dome shaped moguls around its sandy edges. I'm sure if we really cared to look it out, we would be able to see the left overs of what was a village, left in the dam before the water gates were opened to fill her caverns.
We shared stories of the dam and local knowledge, Allistair MacLennan talked about a route from Corrour station to Loch Treig along to the Ciaran bothy and the top section of the Ciaran path. How ignorant of me to assume that the Ciaran path ends at Blackwater dam. I've only been living 7 miles from its dam self for 7 years... I really need to open my eyes to this vast wilderness that is my doorstep.. Note to self.
The dam crossing, involved a helpful line up of passing bikes over gates, all of which were lighter than mine. This 15 inch 2009 Specialized Myca is starting to feel old and dated, or are too many people buying fancy bikes?
The descent down the Ciaran path is as always, a battle of wits, but it was great to see Steve and Allistair, floating along, smoothly sucking up the terrain and lose boulders that normally ricochet me to hang on for dear life in a frenzy. Steve gave out some great advice to Roddy and Johnny who up until this point were Ciaran virgins "let the bike go where it wants to" at first I wrote this off as crazy talk, but after looking into my riding technique in a subconscious level, I began to realise that this is exactly what I am doing. I ain't fighting this crazy fool, this path will take me where she wants.
As a non seat drop owner, the flow of this path bothers me, I ride it with a medium length, seat post. Which doesn't suit all the technical climbing and i'm sure my core muscles were exercising in a way they were not used to, so much so at one point I assured myself I would ride this once a week for the work out alone. It has all you need for a good work out!
Alas, we came to sketchy place number 4, (this ride is a count of sketchiness) the ominous rock drops, after seeing Roddy roll off the first drop on his hard tail (with a bit of a manly ooooh on landing) I decided it was my time - I have sat on the edge of this rock too many times, knowing that its infamously 'role-able'. I decided to take a deep breath and do it.. Which I did and with smooth zealous too. I then completely embarrassed myself by attempting the series of rocks preceding, in full view of a stationary crowd, I took the wrong line and sort of sat down with my bike on top of me. Then with a 'I can do it' feel, and Alistair pointing out some better lines, I nailed it, with a crowd of eager Wheelers congratulating me. Back of the net!! The ride back along from the German camp is my favourite, its really fast and quite technical. Roddy punctured at the very last drainage ditch that has a hard climb straight after and maybe better known as the climb most people pushed up on stage 2 of the Dudes of Hazzard enduro.
Jonny with his trials background seemed to apply a little effort and he was at the top. It is now my destiny to complete this climb!
Back to the car park for some chit chat on some future Wheelers events, maybe I might put the ski season pass on hold to make sure I get to those winter league Enduro's theres talk of. Or maybe I'll just find some pow wow!
Back to Johnny's to collect Ski Pea and greeted with friendly and happy children, a cup of tea and a fantastic home made scone! They know how to bake in Glencoe. I only wish my family life was this organised and bubbly.
The next day was a bit of a right off! A number of chores were put a side for my epic adventures and I had to at least sort out the broken willow arch that was waving around trying to knock over a passer by. There was also a very dirty rabbit hutch with wood lice that needed seen to. So with a white and happy bunny hopping around the garden, i started my task, waiting for the assistance of Ski Pea who was convinced it was too cold to venture into the daylight.
Just like every time I start a job in the garden, hours pass, I become completely distracted by numerous bits and bobs, and on this particular afternoon, it was bracken and its removal that had me. It really does lodge itself in some very awkward places. So on bracken removal number 2, I over heard Ski Pea return with a piece of hazel, that she had found (the one that had broken off the willow arch) this stick was now her staff for the wise wizard that she is.
I could hear her playing with some friends out in the back alley, and when she walked by and into the house announcing to her friends, 'I need to go and glue my stick' I assumed she was being playful. Completely oblivious to this remark I continued to remove my bracken. About 5 minutes later, Ski pea pokes her head out the back door and says something about a stick and i'm sure I just heard the noun super glue. At this point, I am completely aware of the possible disastrous consequences of a 7 year old with super glue in my house and immediately start to ask some questions. Confirming that we are indeed talking about super glue, the super glue that cost £1 from Pound Land and is practically a fluid, and even worse the nozzle has glued itself to the lid, so it just pours out, this stuff chemically reacts with cotton buds, never mind my daughter. I asked the obvious questions of what she was glueing, yes it was a piece of 5 year old hazel that I coppiced years ago along with the whole bundle of coppice hazel in the garden, and yes it has been spilt all over my leather couch. My only piece of furniture not rescued from a skip or given by a relative, but yet everything wants to kill it.
At this I enter the house to find my leather hand bag, has been glued to my leather couch. My initial reaction was to shout, but then I became very calm with a number of apologies and tears, it seemed that a bit of glue was okay, she had not stuck herself to a sharp object and no one was hurt so it's all okay. Although we had to delay our swimming trip by a few hours while i went through a list of super glue removal tips on the internet. Nail polish - didn't do much, Lighter fluid, made the couch go white and boiling soapy water with a lot of elbow grease, seemed to soften it enough to peel of some bits, but I resorted to laying a nice cushion on top of the mess and choosing to forgive and forget. - Life's too short. On the way to the swimming pool, Ski Pea turned to me and reflectively stated 'Mum, I really don't know what I was thinking when I did that". Nor do I Ski Pea.
