Bikepacking - The River Ayr Way - an Overnight Micro Adventure

When it opened in 2006 the idea of taking my bike down the River Ayr Way really excited me, even more so a few years later when it was given status as one of Scotland’s Great Trails. The fact 13 years had past and I still hadn’t gone near the trail head was testament to just how ridiculous my growing laziness has got through my 30s.

 There was a time when I wouldn't think twice about picking up my bike and riding the 66km route from the River’s source in Glenbuck to its final destination at the shore of Ayr. I guess I had let the more boring and serious aspects of life get in the way, If I am being truly honest then that fella who use to ride everyday in all weather, who would enter event after event, and knew how to strip and re-build a bike in jig time had faded away a good 6 or 7 years ago and had been replaced with a bit of a slob.

I decided at the start of 2019 that all that was changing, I was determined to get back some of what I lost, so I set myself the goal of doing as many big adventure rides as possible this summer, and what a better route to start with than ticking off the box from 13 years ago.

 Glenbuck

 The trail starts in the tiny, almost extinct Ayrshire mining village of Glenbuck, famously the birth place of Bill Shankly and mentioned in Robert Burns poem - The Brigs of Ayr

Aroused by blustering winds an' spotting thowes,

In mony a torrent down the snaw-broo rowes;

While crashing ice, borne on the rolling spate,

Sweeps dams, an' mills, an' brigs, a' to the gate;

And from Glenbuck, down to the Ratton-key,

Auld Ayr is just one lengthen'd, tumbling sea-

The trail proper starts at Glenbuck loch - from the outset the rail is fairly grassy and follows the old Caledonia Railway line, there are still many old railway artefacts along the route as well as some interesting points relating to the Covenanter movement. I am not long riding, but yet passing my third gateway which the bike needed lifted over (there are 50 along the route), it is here I saw my first piece of wildlife - a large and bright elephant hawk moth.

An Elephant Hawk Moth

 Harder than you think

For a trail that goes from the source to sea you would think it would be a fairly pleasant downhill route, but early into my journey I could tell this would be more challenging than expected. Lifting a fully packed bike over at least 7 gates in the first 7km was starting to take its toll. Having not started the ride until after 8pm, my whole route plan was based on getting beyond Sorn this evening and camping before finishing the route the following morning.

Equipment wise I had planned to use the River as my source of water and filter it through my brand new trail Microfilter. With progress being slow, and the light starting to fade, I looked to the River to replenish my bottle. It was clear that although only 10 miles from its source, the River Ayr was far from drinkable, it had a toxic blue green hue which as a fisherman screamed to me toxic algy. With some distance to go until my end point for the day I was starting to worry.

 Sorn

 It was 11pm before I entered the village of Sorn, I was drained from the constant gate crossing and covered in thorn and nettle stings from the trail being overgrown at many points, but worst of all I had gone a good 30-40mins now with no liquid on what was the hottest night of the year. I searched through the small village with hope of a late night shop still being open, but I was a good 30mins too late.  Then like a lighthouse shinning to a lost ship, the illuminated Sorn Inn came into sight. I walked into the bar area and the small room filled with locals fell silent..... followed by numerous funny comments in the traditional Ayrshire banter style.

Leaving the pub feeling relieved, it was time to find camp for the night. I was behind schedule by at least an hour, and all light had gone. I started to scope the village looking for a hidden area to pitch my small 1 man tent. There was the graveyard which was looking so tempting but I couldn’t bring myself to pitch there. There was the playpark, flat and comfortable looking, but the next morning there was a chance of waking to a park full of families. So I peddled on, at this point the trail is on the road and I was wary that I wasn’t as visible as I should be. Eventually the trail leads off the road and back on to single track, I find the first semi flat spot and pitch my tent. The night is warm and my body is soaked with sweat, its a rough pitch but enough to let me get down for the night and rest.

 The next day

I was up with the sun rising at 4:30am, I lay for a while contemplating how challenging the night before had been. I was up and packed by 5:30am, I was keen to get on as I had realised in the middle of the night my midnight pitch was right on top of a patch of ramsons (wild garlic) and the smell had been overpowering. I packed up the bike and notice my saddle was at a very steep angle, I give it a shoogle and its clearly it has loosened off. I reached into my tool pack and brought out the allen key, but at this point notice that its not just a loose saddle, the rear bolt had gone. I think back to yestarday and remember hearing that £1 coin falling out my pocked going by Muirkirk, it wasn’t a pound after all but something much more valuable. I had no option but to tighten up the front bolt and prepare myself for an uncomfortable day.

 As I start riding I can tell that the terrain today is going to be a lot different from yestarday. The path is defined and hardpacked, I pass through villages with shops, and the river is wide and easy to follow. It’s still early as I travel through Catrine and cross a bridge into a woodland, at this point the trail comes to a fork and theres no clear waymarker showing what path to take. I get off my bike and start to walk up the roughest looking trail, next my body is in pain as a feel what is electric shock after electric shock. I had walked over a wasp nest and a swarm was attacking. I run back to my bike and start to pedal as fast as I can. When the danger was clear I stopped and check myself over, I was blotchy and the skin was broken at a couple of spots on my arm, but I think myself lucky as things could have gone a lot worse.

I had no option but to ride on and soon pass under the Ballochmyle Viaduct which is the highest extant railway viaduct in Britain. From there I pass through the villages of Stair, Annbank, and finally Auchincruive before finally reaching Ayr.

 The End 

The route has been two days, and two very different days at that, with a wild feel to the trail going by Muirkirk and all the way to Sorn, to a much more relaxed feel of day two with a number of villages to rest at. I ended at Ayr train station to board a train back to Glengarnock, happy that I had finally got round to riding the River Ayr Way, but at the same time humbled by the challenge as I sat stung and tired on a train bound for home.