Jantastic: Update

I went for my final Jantastic ride today.  True to form, it was in horrible weather that I would never have considered going out in if it weren't for some silly semi competative internet fitness thing.

This is the secret of Jantastic's success for me- I'm obviously pretty active normally- but by setting personal fitness goals that are there for all to see, with points awarded for effort, I've given myself a metaphorical carrot and stick that has pushed me out of the door when normally I'd be on the sofa. It's helped me to structure my exercise towards specific cycling goals. I've cycled hundreds of kilmoetres, set QOMs, and hurtled around singletrack. I've done a minimum of two rides a week (with one joker used), and smashed my time and distance targets.  I've deliberately sought out Arran's most brutal hill climbs.  I've toiled up glens on my mountain bike to hike remote hills. Three months ago cycling over 100km was a distant dream, but on Friday I made it a reality. Today I celebrated by taking my tired legs for a spin on Lamlash sea front testing some new SPD shoes and pedals. So there we have it, I'm no longer a sporadic fair weather cyclist. I have funny shoes and egg whisk pedals.  I even like hills.

#10: Figure of 8

Oooh me legs!

Yesterday Wally and I cycled the Arran Figure of 8.  There are various permutations, but the classic route involves cycling the String Road twice. It's 111km and nearly 1700m of ascent. We did the Southend first, which condemmed us to a lot of headwinds on the flat,  but gave us a tailwind on the String which I think was probably a good thing. Also, there's no way my legs would have been happy if we'd left the hilly southend till last.  I'd probably still be somewhere in Kilmory sleeping under a hedge.

There was no time deadline to yesterday's ride, so we grazed our way around the island.

#13: Ledge Route

We all self-identify as something... have an idea of ourselves that is partly based on ego, and partly on the tribe in which we feel most comfortable.  I like to think of myself as someone who does a spot of winter climbing, (we even honeymooned in Rjukan) but this has in recent years been a proper fib.  For various reasons- ranging from recovery from an op, to lack of opportunity, to a bit of feartieness, I've not been out on a real route for what seems like ages. This winter is looking like it is going the same way, but I did manage to snatch a near perfect day on Ben Nevis last week, and in doing so met the criteria for number 13- to go winter climbing... sort of...!

 
With reports of stunning conditions in the classic gullies, Wally was keen to jump on to some steep ground, but I was very reticent, with no idea as to how it would feel to be that far out on a limb again, so he agreed to take a look at Ledge Route, a friendly and satisfyingly long II and the easiest of the Great Ridges. We were partly inspired by Rob Johnson's gorgeous drone footage taken the week before.  If you haven't seen it, it's a must-watch. 

I've only done Ledge Route once before- it was my first at that grade, and I recall we roped up and moved together on it, nervously, in driech weather, and popped out of an inversion to a heavenly world above. I remember it clearly because an RAF Tornado flew by,  and dipped it's wings has it passed. This time, the rope stayed in the bag, but we did gear up in case we encountered anything untoward.  No need- the snow was perfect, soft enough to kick in, but firm and reliable for axe placements. It felt easy, if exposed, more grade 1.5 than 2, and I'm reluctant to count it as a winter climb... these things are all relative I guess, and winter has many faces. No matter, it was a magic route, I was happy to be reminded of its quality- which is superb for the grade, and there were smiles all round at the top.

#8 Ride around Arran (sub 5 hours)

Today I smashed 40 minutes off my previous time to cycle around Arran, and 10 minutes off my #41 Things target time of 5 hours. That's in the saddle time, because if you can't stop for cake in the numerous delightful teashops on Arran then whats the point?

It wasn't easy, and took large quantities of what should probably be a controlled substance: caffeine, as well as copious amounts of sugar. The darkest point of the ride was probably on the final pull up the final hill out of Brodick, when I realised that after all that pushing hard up the Boguille Pass, all the chasing of average speeds in to a headwind, and all that frenzied double latte gulping, my time margin was slipping away from me and I started to doubt I could do it. But the brow of the hill came just in time, and I set a PR on the descent in to Lamlash.

It's not a particularly spectacular time- but its a big deal for me. I put off my first ride around Arran for years, despite it being a popular circuit with visiting roadies, because as a local I know all about the dreaded hilly Southend, the pot holes, the bad drivers and the headwinds. It's a lot harder than the 90 km circuit looks on paper. Since I set that first time of five and half hours, I've been wondering if I could do it any faster, and this year, have been putting in a bit of training, with double Boguille and Ross road climbing sessions, and taking my mountainbike out in the woods. Today was only the second time I've ridden around the island in full.

The received wisdom is to take on the Southend first. It's a lot worse than it looks on the map, with endless rolling hills, and it's good to get it out of the way with fresh legs.  Nevertheless I nearly cried when I saw Sliddery Hill rearing up towards me today- I'd forgotten about that one and it is vicious.  The descent in to Blackwaterfoot is glorious however, especially with a stretch of new tarmac to enjoy. From there, its a happy amble to the Machrie Bay Tea Room, where sticky cakes await.

My old school bike,  AKA: The Bumblebee

My plan was to grind out a bit of speed between Machrie and Lochranza, but the "gentle northerly" turned out to be pretty brisk, and slowed things down quite a bit.  There is a short sharp shock of a hill at Imachar, but it is over pretty quickly, and lovely coastline to enjoy around the north west of the island. After Lochranza, the Boguille Pass terrifies everyone, but I quite like it.  The summit is a wild and beautiful place, where you can watch golden eagles, buzzards and hen harriers, whilst admiring the rocky peaks of the Sleeping Warrior.

Staring down the barrel of the Boguille.

Brodick Bay basking in the spring sunshine

I was happy to find the breeze on my tail as I negotiated the straights of Sannox and Corrie, putting in some unexpected PRs.  By the start of Brodick Hill I was buzzing.  But that hill is never fun, and from the Brodick side, the steep climb up from the ferry terminal always saps my strength. It's a steady grind after that, and with tired legs it is hard to get out of bottom gear, so I watched my time on the clock ebb away. The legendary Jens Voigt had "shut up legs" written on his top tube to motivate him on climbs.  My legs are pretty chatty, saying things like "Wheee" and "Grrr!" and occasionally "Ow".  Its when they go quiet that I worry. On Brodick Hill they started to feel like silent lumps of clay.  I was relieved to get to the top at last, and then whizz down in to Lamlash and the finish line.

#21 Learn to knit

I'd expected the first thing I would cross off my list of 41 things in my 41st year to be something that took some physical effort. Progress has been made in a few areas- my skiing is getting better and I've fixed a puncture under supervision. I've been riding my bike like mad, training and planning all sorts of adventures , and I really thought I'd have got a nice winter climbing route in by now (perhaps I'm riding my bike too much?).

First faltering stitches

Anyway, it turns out that the first challenge to cross off my list is number 21: "learn to knit".  The island has an unusual community arts project underway called Arran Woollen Woods and yesterday I took myself along to a skills sharing workshop hosted by Arran Eco Savvy. I was pretty nervous, I'm not a creative person, but I like the idea of the woollen woods project and want to contribute.   Anyway, to cut a long story short, it turns out that learning the basics is easy, and also addicitive.  Under the guidance of my patient teacher Nicki, before long I was knitting and purling my way through a ball of wool.... reluctant to stop.  It was only when she offered to let me buy the needles and yarn from Eco Savvy and take it all home that I put the gear down for a break.

Dino has it's first square.

They used to say "the devil makes work for idle hands"... and knitters have long extolled the virtues of their craft. I can only agree. Through the hypnotic motions of the needles and fingers I can feel my mind emptying and restlessness evaporating.  I'm not at the stage where I can talk and knit at the same time but I already know that life is going to be different from now on.  No more boring journeys fiddling with my smartphone.... The dreary wait for overdue teenagers at DofE checkpoints will be fun and long tent-bound nights will never seem empty again. I've already ordered four more wool colours, and although I'm a long way off knitting a red squirrel, I'm going to help "yarn bomb" a life sized wicker dinosaur with coloured squares.

I also tried my hand at needle felting. Despite stabbing myself in the thumb several times I made a fuzzy mushroom- also to add to the woollen woods project.

Beached Bird Survey 2015

After last year's distressing Beached Bird Survey, I was apprehensive about returning to the beach this year to record washed up birds. In 2014, I made my own small contribution to recording a tragedy, a wreck of razorbills and other auks. You can read the shocking results of the RSPB's national survey here.

Catacol Bay

This year, I'm happy to report that I found no dead birds on my 9km stretch of beach. It's not all good news, as there was a lot of washed up plastic, and of course my records are just a tiny part of a big and complicated picture.  However, I'm a happier person than I was this time last year.... not least because I saw plenty of wildlife on the shore, including an otter fishing in Catacol Bay, and fulmars chuntering to each other on wooded cliffs between Lochranza and Pirnmill.

Back up North again...

No sooner had I got home from Ullapool last week, but it seemed I was out the door and heading back up the road to the Far Northwest. This time I was heading up to Torridon to meet up with Jim Sutherland from Nineonesix Guiding, for a spot of shadowing in the winter hills. Spending time with other outdoor professionals is a great way to keep skills current and to learn new ones, especially when they have the wealth of experience and superb mountain venues that Jim and his company have to hand.

Enjoying the view from Beinn Eighe

And so it was that I found myself heading up on to Beinn Eighe on Thursday morning, with Jim and his two lovely clients Gavin and David.  It was pretty clagged in, and mild, but high up in Coire An Laoigh we found enough snow to look at the basics of self belay, arrest and safe movement before heading up on the the ridge for the summit of Spidean Coire nan Clach. On the way down, the mists parted, and we were treated to fabulous views of the Torridon peaks and a golden eagle flypast. We stomped back in to the coire, taking a bit of time to look at bucket seats and some basic ropework on the way. This was a fun day for all and Gavin and David were quick learners, hopefully this is the start of many more winter days in the hill for them.  There is a bit more about this day up on the Nineonesix Blog too.

Gavin and Dave looking comfy

Friday was a rest day for me and my pal Reuben came down that afternoon for a spot of bouldering.  I'm not much of a boulderer, but even I was well impressed by the quality of the rock around Torridon- dry, clean, and solid, with grades of problem to suit everyone.  We went to the Celtic Jumble and enjoyed a few hours clambering about in the cool winter sunlight.

Bouldering at the Celtic Jumble

That evening I headed east, to be in place for some more shadowing with Nineonesix- this time on a winter skills course for the SYHA in the Cairngorms. Directed by Dunc Maclennan, this was a two day intro to the basics of winter walking for a team of five clients.

The great white room on the Cairngorm Plateau

They were keen to do plenty of navigation, so we spent a day working our way up on to the plateau from Coire na Ciste, experiencing the full drama of a Cairngorm whiteout. On the second day, strong winds kept us low down on the mountain, providing us with a great opportunity for some practical skills work in a sheltered gully system in Glen Feshie.

Dunc proves that navigation is fun.

Ice axe braking and sliding practice.

Big thanks to Jim and Dunc from Nineonesix for sharing their skills and time with me as well as letting me loose on their clients.  It was superb experience and great fun. They are based in a fantastic part of the world, and have an encyclopedic knowledge of some of the finest mountains and mountaineering that Scotland has to offer.