Over the last three years, I have let my work-life balance suffer. I have worked on a covid response unit which involved going from a Monday to Friday 9-5 to 7 days a week shifts, often going long periods without downtime. Before and after COVID I was also part of the programme team organising the COP26 conference in Glasgow, again involving long hours and long periods without a break. It was safe to say my cycling time and fitness had suffered significantly. For 2022 I promised myself a return to spending quality time outside, adventuring and exploring new places on my Bike.
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| My bike ready to go |
Having
spent such a long period without a decent break, I had found myself with a
large backlog of leave. I planned in early 2022 to take the week of the 16th of
May off. For the past few years, this week has been glorious summer weather and
would be a brilliant opportunity to get a significant trip in at the start of
the summer.
I planned to go to Campbeltown, Kintyre and explore the Kintyre way, hitting Gigha on the second day, coming back through the Cowal Peninsula and the option of crossing to Bute - around 4 days in total. It was Robert Burns that wrote in his poem “To a mouse” that “The best laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men Gang aft agley, An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain, For promis’d joy!” translated from Scots it suggests that for all our planning to achieve some joy, there is the risk of things going wrong and resulting in disappointment or even pain, and that is the line that ran through my head numerous times on this trip.
Day 1
Ferries
can be a touchy subject in Scotland, with numerous communities on the 700
islands off the Scottish coastline they play a vital role in transporting
people, and goods and linking needed services, as well as an essential role in
the tourist trade. the largest provider in Scotland is CalMac which has a bit
of a reputation for sticking to a schedule, and to be fair, it is
understandable when you understand the landscape they have to operate in. So it
shouldn't have been surprised that my first hurdle on my trip was a delayed
ferry going from Ardrossan to Campbeltown, a router that runs Thursday to
Sunday during the summer months.
The
cross takes 3 hours, but a fast three hours at the with great views of the
south side of Arran, Pladda, Davaar Island with its prominent lighthouse, and
the vastness of the Mull of Kintyre, all enough to entertain you during a
smooth cross. And if the sights don’t fulfil you there is a bar and cafe on
board. Cycles are stored on the car deck and secured by a member of the deck
team, all in all it was an easy transition from port to ferry, and just as
simple at the destination.
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| Davaar Island |
I
had been checking the weather forecast on the days previously and counting contours
on the map to have a few routes in my head. The forecast was a mild breeze with
a spread of light showers, I was comfortable enough with this outlook and had
loaded the panniers on my bike so I could take my big 3m x 3m tarp, a trusted
shelter for most occasions. Landing at Campbeltown the atmosphere didn’t feel
like little showers were on the agenda, it was heavy and gusty, the type of
weather you preceding an Autumn storm.
Around
ten miles in the weather started to get worse, the wind picked up and the rain
started to pour, the road surface was slippy with my laden bike, and I longed
getting off on to a forest road. Overall the first 15 miles had been fairly
flat with no significant climbs, during the first day the only significant climb
I encountered was at Glenbarr when the road cuts inland. I was soon at westport
beach where I had views of Ireland, Islay and Jura in the far distance, the
beach here is continuous for 6 miles with warnings of rip tides visible
throughout the coastline.
As
I head toward my camp spot I pass some amazing points of interest, the Tangy
Mill, an ancient cemetery and church at Clach nam Paitean, and a truly
beautiful coast line. Kintyre is part of the mainland but feels very different,
the way the dykes are build, the stone they use, the way the fields are set and
the soil is turned, it all looks unfamiliar. There is a sense that long ago
there was an identity here with people whose ancient spots are scattered around
for all to see.
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| Tayinloan |
I had reached Tayinloan, the ferry port for Gigha, the next ferry being 8am the following day. I planned to camp nearby in one of the pine forests that covered Kintyre, on entering Campbeltown it was clear that logging plays an important role throughout the peninsula, so there is no shortages of sheltered woods. I found a location that sat high above the nearby road, in a meadow rich in bluebells. I am cautious of not disturbing areas like this, as many of our wildflowers now hold a protected status, I find an area clear of colour and place my ground sheet, hang my hammock and raise my tarp. I am pleased with my set up and start the process of getting ready to cook, then sleep, with views of Gigha in the distances as the last light starts to fade.
The Night
As
I lay in my hammock my thoughts went to the next day, my original plan was to
head to Gigha, there was a tea room at the ferry port and toilets so it would
cover a few needs. I noticed at the minutes tickets away the sound of the wind
in the trees started to build, and build, and get to the point that gusts were
forming. The Weather forecast predicted 20mph maximum winds, but as the night
went on it was clear the wind speed was much more. The rain started about 2am
and came heavily and consistently. The rain wasn’t too much of a concern as my
tarp was tried and tested from a well-known brand (however still managed to
rip), but the wind was worrying. My hammock was rocking with the forces of the
trees being blown back and forth.
It was around 4am when I check the forecast
once again and decided that the outlook was too bad to continue on for another
3 days. I made two plans, both involved long rides out and getting to at least
two ferry ports on time. Although on the mainland Kintyre has not rail, and
minimal road access, so fall back measures are few and far between.
The next day I lay too long try to urge myself to get up and packed, the rain was still lashing down and although the wind had calmed slightly, it was still a forceful breeze. I started to pack up, the rain was heavy but my luggage waterproof, but even the best of bags would struggle in this weather. I headed down to the Gigha ferry, I had decided not to go across but a toilet to get my bottles filled and tearoom would be a nice start to the day. Unfortunately neither were open, throughout my ride I had noticed that a passed very few amenities were opened and wondered if this was a result of 2 years of lockdowns preventing shops and cafes from accessing the much need tourist trade, in fact during the two days in Kintyre the only shop I found open was a garage in Clachan. I had decided my exit strategy would be a ferry from Claonig on the east of Kintyre to Lochranza in Arran, and then hopefully a ferry from Brodick to Ardrossan.
It was a rough days riding, the road which has been fair flat in day one turned to hilly, the last 9 miles alone would have nearly 900ft of climbing in a strong head on wind. The traffic was still moving fast in the wet conditions and face was getting covered in spray, the wait of my bike was also becoming unsteady with wind and gusts from close passing lorries. The final 5 miles saw me catch up with a large group of cyclists all heading to Claonig, most coming from Islay and making the same decision as me by exiting back to the mainland after a night of nightmarish weather. Just seeing other cyclists lifted my spirits and contributed to me picking up the pace in that final difficult section.
On the ferry to Lochranza I had the chance to get a seat, but also a quick dry of some clothes by a wee heater. The ride ahead wasn’t long, but I had a large climb, a climb I knew all too well having attempted it numerous times over the last 20 years, and never successfully. Arriving in Lochranza I thought back to my time in Kintyre, I went by locations I would have loved to spend more time at, but the weather and urgency had me ploughing by, it’s not the type of riding I live for, so one day under better conditions I must go back.
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| Cloanig to Lochranza |
I started the slog up the 4km climb out of
lochranza, once I was over this I knew it was flat to Brodick. The climb hits
14% at points and reaches 200m starting at sea level, it was my cycling hell, I
was slow, tired and sore. I reach the top and the worst was now over, I now
just needed to each the ferry, I knew I had to windows of opportunity, a ferry
at 4ish and one at 7ish, if I missed both then I was camping once again and I
wanted to avoid that at all costs. My kit had felt the effects of riding in
heavy rain all day, it was damp at the least.
I headed down the coast road, it had been
years since I was on Arran and I had forgotten just how beautiful it was, this
road was familiar. I tried to keep my pedal rhythm, in an easy gear with a high
cadence, I slowly but surely made it to the ferry port at 15:15 and my passage
home.
I arrived at Ardrossan feeling defeated, my
confidence low, then all of a sudden my eyes were drawn to a cyclist about to
board the ferry to head to Arran, the bike was splashed with Rough Stuff
Fellowship (the club I have been a member of since 2007) stickers and his bike
bag proudly fashioning a fabric badge. I made contact and he told me that he
was introduced to the club on a trip to Cape Wrath, I could see the excitement
in his face as he was about to start another cycling adventure, and at that
point my spirits were lifted and my mind moved on to where I should go next.
A video linked to this blog can be found here
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