Today was bikey day. It was warm enough by 9am to think about going outside in shorts so I got my gear together and hit the trail, straight from the campsite. I started off with a few other people around which spurred me to go faster than I wanted to so that I wasn't holding anyone up. The trail wound up the side of a massive forested hill to a 600m peak where the shared blue, red and black trails split to leave only the black, which I was taking. Clearly the black is only for the brave because suddenly I was on my own as I pushed further into the forest. The others followed the red trail, which I had been told by the jolly fat shop guy, was closed across a few sections. He had instead given me a super-route which tackled the best bits of all three trails. Laughing at their naivety I sped on.
An hour later I was literally breathing out of my arse. I was not bike-fit and my huffing and puffing arse was raw from the saddle. I was wondering if I had bitten off more than I could chew and was imagining the other people laughing, with their middle fingers aloft, as they rode into the sunset. Luckily I reached the top and there was a shelter where I could catch my breath and stock up on some calories. With every climb though, there is a descent and, oh boy, was I ready for it. I felt the chill from the air as I accelerated downhill, swooping and jumping, forgetting that I was on my own and far from help if it all went awry. I got within sight of the finish and, being complacent I relaxed, just in time for a technical drop. I applied the brakes but it was too late. I went sailing over the handlebars, doing my best super-man impression, and landed like an A380 with no landing gear. I came to a stop about 10ft from my bike and lay there spitting the dirt out of my teeth. Lesson learnt? Nah! I inspected the damage to myself and the bike and head off back to the van to clean up.
And so today was my last day. I head home on Saturday, with a couple of stops to see family and friends. I was a little apprehensive about doing a driving holiday in the wilderness on my own. I envisaged I might get bored or lonely but none of that really materialised. I've had a blast and I've seen just snippet of Scotland's beautiful land and can see myself coming back again in the future for sure. Funnily enough the lowlands of Scotland take the same amount of time to get to as North Wales but in order to see Scotland properly you probably need at least a couple of weeks. I hope you feel inspired to take up your own adventure. It doesn't take much and it really is on your doorstep, in the grand scheme of things. Thanks for reading and I'll hopefully have more adventures to write about soon.
Oh, and if you haven't done so already, donate whatever you can to help the people in Nepal 😁
"Action Dan"
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