(The story so far. A not quite early enough start led to a slog into the
wind for 40 miles to get to a meeting on time. This journey through
purgatory was enivened by the pucture fairy, the rain gods, the looking
but not seeing driver who nearly had me off in Perth, and the odd hail
storm. We made it on time, just.
The story now continues...)
And then it was Saturday morning. The problem with infrequent imbibing
of leg restorer, discovering whom amongst your female colleagues can
count, follow simple instructions and has a sense of rhythm, and long
discussions in a noisy and slightly smoky bar is a bit of a bad throat.
So today's ride was cancelled. A gentle walk into town for some throat
lozenges and a bit of R &R before the afternoon session started. And
mindful of the consequences of excessive medication, a limited
consumption of gravity accelerant in the evening.
So Sunday comes and with it the final session. The sun is bright, the
sky is blue. The wind is howling around the rafters and the odd
snowflake makes its way to the ground. The final speakers have wound up,
I make sure my colleagues on the coach have my bags and it is time to go.
We have been joined by a third cyclist. We were to be four but the
fourth went early and fast, and his bike was just plain wrong[1]. Our
colleague had brought his bike in his car, a Dahon Speed TR. With his
wife and family taking the car beack, we were ready to go, and go we did.
You may remember the wind was an againsterly on the way out. It had
strengthened overnight and was still blowing the same way. And we
decided to take a more scenic route. Now, some of you will know the A85
heading east from Crieff. It is quite narrow for a trunk road, many
twists, and lots of solid white lines. I will admit to not enjoying it,
and just getting down the road as fast as prudent.
Fortunately that only lasted for a few miles and we soon turned left and
up towards the 'Sma' glen, heading for the Glen Almond road. This was
the longest sustained climb of the trip, and the sunshine and effort
left me sweating like crazy despite the temperature being in the low
single figures. Cresting the rise into LogieAlmond we were greeted by a
spectacular view to the North. Snow capped mountains peeked through the
glens as the sun brought that fantastic warm glow to the brown, heather
clad hills. A photo stop for sure and a chance to divest myself of
excess clobber. I was reduced to a short sleeved coolmax shirt and no
hat, and feeling fantastic. (I did have shorts and leggings on).
The B road along the river Almond is one of those roads that cycle
tourists dream about. Twisting, tree lined curves, dipping down to cross
small brooks with ancient stone bridges, and almost no traffic. The road
was in great condition, not much loose gravel, and mercifully few dead
pheasants and rabbits. We had reached close to 200m above sea level.
Perth, our mid point for the trip, is at about 15m and downwind.
It was a blast. Absolutely fantastic riding. The grin-o-meter had
wrapped the needle around the maximum. The feeling of 25-30mph on such a
road with minimal effort, great sight lines and picking the best lines
through the jinks in the road, only to sprint for the crest of the next
small rise. Rinse, lather, repeat. And again, and again, and again.
Several pheasant risked life and limb by crossing the road ahead of us,
and a bird of prey gave me a very close fly by. Not as big as a buzzard,
like am oversized browny grey pigeon, left to chase its prey in peace as
we flew by at 30. All this time we have not really been working hard or
seriously, just making the absolute best of it, like a good downhill ski
run with friends.
Right turn onto NCN77, down through Almond bank, and then for a short
stint on the A85 back into Perth. Past the junction where I was so
nearly shunted on the Friday and into the town. The tractor unit from an
artic was pacing me and, deciding that I really didn't like this, I
allowed him through. According to my companions he was getting a bit
aggressive. Letting him through was the right thing.
Aggressive is not the same as plain dopey. This section of the main road
has two lanes, both heading straight on before one does a right turn. I
am moving at 20-25 mph, the speed of the other traffic and a silver OAP
mobile (why is it always silver?) decides to overtake in the other lane.
Realising it is a right turn he starts to pull over onto me. I decide to
stand my ground, not exactly liking the idea of sharing the same time
and space with a tin box. It is amazing how much a rear window flexes
when you thump it. It is also amazing how people don't notice an impact.
From there things took a slight turn for the worse. I had convinced my
colleagues that I knew of a really nice little tea stop I mile up the
road by Scone palace (how apt!) What I had failed to take into account
was that the tea stop, run by volunteers for Macmillan, wasn't open on
Sundays. And furthermore was not open till May at the earliest. back we
went, retracing our route to rejoin NCN 77.
Given the choice of a gentle slope or the steepest hill in Perth, the
designers of this route chose the latter. I had recently equipped my
bike with a compact double and that seemed to do the trick, getting up
the first few hundred meters without needing to dance on the pedals.
This was the road we had been pedalling to get over 20mph coming down.
The brae eases and with a strong tailwind we were blown uphill at a good
pace, the carpark at the top arriving almost before we expected it. The
next part weaves it's way along the edge of the hill giving great views
over the traffic on the A90, 200m below. Our first view of Dundee, 20
miles away along the Tay Estuary as well. Plenty of photostops and a
cautious descent of Kinnoul hill. It is steep, there are bends and there
is loose gravel.
And then into Glencarse. Another long gentle slope. I had taken the
camera out of my saddlebag and put it in my jersey pocket for such a
time, so shot off several pictures on the descent. I obviously was not
going to look through the viewfinder at 30mph so was guided by Andrew
shouting 'left a bit, up a bit', guiding the camera angle to catch them
in flight.
There was no tea stop in Glencarse village either. The pub/hotel looked
deserted so we crossed the A90 onto the Carse of Gowrie. The road
follows a very slight ridge to Errol, and is almost deserted. More
photos en route, the low sun giving picturesque shadows on the road. A
turn and short, sharp climb to Errol village and a tea stop. Or not, as
the only place I knew in Errol for teas was closed. Never mind, a brief
stretch and back on the bikes for the last leg.
We drop off the ridge and it is now flat and straight. Even those from
the fens would agree that these roads are flat. A low sun behind us, the
golden brown of the freshly ploughed fields either side of the road,
blue skies with oil painting clouds over Dundee, now visible ahead of
us. I was paying for my exuberance in Glen Almond, having to push a bit
to keep up. This was not helped by taking yet more in flight pictures.
And then the last part.. Up to Invergowrie and into the traffic. With my
legs feeling a final flush of energy we rolled along the Perth Road,
back to the lab. Time to collect my bag, raid the vending machine for a
well deserved Mars bar, and bid farewell to my colleagues. It's now my
normal route home, but on the road bike with a large rucksack on my
back. Grin and bear it, roll through the door and find supper on the
table waiting for me. Magic end to a magic day. Heaven on two wheels.
...d
[1] It was a Bianchi. Nothing wrong with it except that it was yellow.
Yellow? for a Bianchi? get a proper colour bike...