It's been one of those weekends. Saturday the weather was
too horrible to go sailing, so in the end I worked all
morning and half the afternoon. And then the weather was
still horrible so I stated playing a computer game, as you
do. And, as you do, I went on playing it late into the night
(and then it crashed just as I was about to achieve
something), and the consequence of that was I overslept my
tide this morning. Although in all probability I'd have got
down to the marina, looked at the weather and thought,
nah... It was gey dreich. So I was determined to get a bike
out but what with one thing and another the day was getting
by. Finally about four o'clock I stuck the Mantra on the
back of the truck and headed up country.
I left the truck at Stroan Loch and cycled up the Raiders'
Road. The wind, which had been easily force six down on the
coast, was pretty blustery out of the west but not too bad
because it was at right angles to my direction. By the time
I got to the Otter Pool it was raining quite sturdily, so I
stopped, peeled off my jersey and pulled on my waterproof.
Then on up the Raider's Road. I've cycled it before; it's an
interesting but not altogether pleasant surface to ride on
being essentially a dirt road but much better graded than
most dirt roads, so the surface finish where it hasn't been
chewed up is almost as smooth as tarmac. Unfortunately it
had been chewed up a bit by the Galloway Hills Rally which
was through there a couple of weeks ago... It's a filthy
surface, though, and the bike was covered in a fine dark
grey grit.
You're also climbing steadily but noticeably along the whole
length of the Raiders' Road, mostly running close alongside
the Black Water. And it's pretty scenic. The Black Water is
gorgeous, particularly in the long sections where it runs
over beds of flat rock. Towards the Clatteringshaws end the
road swings away from the water quite steeply up the
hillside, and as the sun had now come out (the weather
improved steadily) I stopped at the top to change my
waterproof back for my jersey. Then a blast back down almost
to river level and another short climb and I turned left
onto the tarmac of the A712... for all of fifty yards. And
then left again onto the track up to Loch Grannoch, which is
signposted as part of NCN7.
Somewhere in Galloway this summer there is an osprey
nesting. The RSPB are, very carefully, not saying where.
It's probably on one of the really inaccessible lochs up in
upper Galloway, but short of going into serious wilderness
the most remote lochs are Loch Grannoch and Loch Skerrow, so
I was half hoping to see one. Unfortunately you see very
little of Loch Grannoch because of the trees, although in
one section of clear fell there was a marvelous view out
over it. It's typical of Galloway, really. Here's a loch
about the size of Coniston and at least as scenic as
Coniston and there's actually no public road which is even
in the same glen - has even a view of it.
The track up to Loch Grannoch was mostly cycling down
corridors of spruce forest. Initially the track was uphill
for two or three miles and sort of average landrover track
quality, but halfway down the loch it was being used by
harvesters and forwarders and was a bit chewed up, and as it
started to descend past the lower end of the loch it was
very loose and rough indeed. My Mantra has an enormous
amount of good smooth travel at the back, and four inches of
not-very-good suspension at the front, and it was just about
able to cope with going down that track at a reasonable
pace, although it was a jarring experience. I would hate to
try it on a fully laden touring bike, or even a hardtail
mountain bike. And this is THE SAME national cycle route -
NCN7 - which meanders down gentle country lanes not five
miles from my home. Sustrans are crazy. A bike that could
cope with the track down from Loch Grannoch to the Big Water
of Fleet Viaduct is not going to be suitable for gentle
country lanes, and vice versa. Still, it was a glorious,
fast, bumpy bash down to the viaduct, and there the first
minor problem with my plan manifested itself.
I hadn't known for certain whether you could get up from NCN
7 onto the old railway line, but I'd assumed I'd find a way
when the time came. When I got there, there I was on the
west bank of the Fleet. And there, leading up from NCN7, was
a nice landrover track up onto the railway at the west end
of the massively sturdy viaduct. And there, neatly across
the viaduct was an eight foot high barbed-wire-entanglement-
topped barrier.
Whoops.
Oh well, not going to get across the viaduct. What now? I
did think of cycling down into Gatehouse and getting a taxi
back to the truck, or even cycling the long way round by the
road. But it felt so wimpish. Instead I turned round and
cycled back up towards Loch Grannoch, crossing the Fleet on
a low bridge, to where I'd seen a track off to the south
east. I can't actually focus on a map without my reading
glasses, which I didn't have with me, but it seemed to sweep
round and run parallel to the railway. So I thought I'd try
it. Initially there was a long curving climb on an
atrociously loose, rough surface - although to be fair the
Mantra coped with it fairly well and I was able to keep up a
reasonable speed. After a bit it levelled out and ran
straight and I could see by the sun I was riding in
approximately the right direction. I kept thinking that the
railway couldn't be more than a few hundred yards south of
me, and kept looking down firebreaks to see if I could see
it. None of them looked ridable. And in any case the track
was now impressively straight and with a nice easy gradient
- impressively well engineered for a forestry road -- and
then suddenly I was in a cutting.
Oh, well, that's alright, then.
After a couple of miles or so of this well engineered (but
still quite rough) track, the track started to twist
downhill and I realised I'd come to the now demolished
Little Water of Fleet viaduct. They've made an impressive
job cleaning up. I couldn't see any of the piers - it's been
dismantled completely, almost as if it had never been there.
Only the ends of the old embankment give it away.
In any case the track crossed the Little Water of Fleet and
came to a junction; one branch climbed back up towards the
railway line. I followed this, and to my surprise the second
minor problem with my plan appeared. The track went straight
across the old line, and disappeared off south down the
glen. The old line itself was thickly overgrown with broom
and willow. It looked as though I would not be able to get
the bike through.
Whoops.
By the old line I was about five miles back to the truck. By
the way I'd come, about twenty. Down by the road and round,
probably the same. I pushed for fifty yards through thick
vegetation, and then suddenly the track cleared again, and
was just the ballast of the railway track exactly as it must
have been when they lifted the sleepers. I got on and
started to ride.
Looking on the map it's about a mile from the Little Water
of Fleet viaduct to Loch Skerrow. However that mile was
definitely the most interesting and most adventurous of the
whole trip, and it felt like more. There were alternately
sections of more or less bare clinker, sections which were
partly overgrown with mosses and grass, and sections which
were heavily overgrown (one or two more where I got off and
pushed through). Then (this is Galloway) there were two
sharp granite ridges that ran across the line. What has they
done? Blasted through, of course. Absolutely vertical sided
cuttings. There must have been no more than inches to spare
on either side of a standard railway carriage - it must have
been spectacular when the railway was in use. It's still
pretty spectacular.
Then there was a short section where the track ran in a
slight cutting, and it had been flooded for some time. The
trackbed was still there, but under about 200mm of evil greeny-
black ooze. I pedalled _very_ carefully through that. Then a
quick lift over a gate that clearly hadn't been opened for a
very long time, and there was Loch Skerrow on my left. The
west end of Loch Skerrow - which I'd never seen before - is
even more spectacular than the east end. By this time my
headset was feeling decidedly loose and unhappy. I stopped
to try to fix it, but didn't achieve much. Part of the
problem is that so long as you're cycling the midges can't
keep up, but as soon as you stop IT'S DINNERTIME!
On, despite worries about the headset, through Loch Skerrow
halt, and then bombing down the last couple of miles with
Stroan Loch glinting ahead of me on my left and a rainbow
(it was raining again, out of a clear blue sky) ahead on my
right. Brilliant.
Happiness is a filthy bike.
As an afterthought - in the whole trip I saw four cars
moving, and two cars parked. In the carpark at Stroan Loch
where I left the truck there were six people looking at
the view; I didn't see any other people at all. Not bad
for one of the most scenic places in Britain, in the
middle of summer.
--
[email hidden] (Simon Brooke)
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