Story 20: Bouncing and braking on Bonnie's bike

We're in Virginia Beach at the moment on the first leg of a short trip to the States. We've not actually been on the beach as yet because we've been distracted by the first thing that we stumbled upon when we wandered down to the boardwalk:

So, for the past two days we've been sitting on a saddle rather than sitting on the sand, and what a comfy saddle it is too! Bonnie's bikes are a bit different from our bikes back home with the best thing about them being the big curly springs that attach the saddle to the bike frame. Not only do the rusty springs provide brilliant shock absorption, they also emit a nostalgic kind of squeaky noise as we pedal along. The thing I've found most difficult to get used to on Bonnie's bike is the brakes. You slow down, or brake, by pedalling backwards and there are no brake levers on the handlebars. I was doing pretty well with this system - or so I thought - until yesterday when we were cycling along a beautiful but bumpy forest trail.

I've still not had any punctures while we've been out cycling, but I have had my fair share of 'chain-off' incidents. Yesterday, unfortunately, was no exception. Fortunately I wasn't on a downhill stretch of the trail as there was no way of pedalling backwards once the chain was off the cog, i.e. I couldn't brake! The chain flew off and I couldn't figure out how to slow down. Letting my foot drag along the ground was out of the question as I was wearing thin-soled white gutties; I wasn't risking hurting my foot or wrecking the wee shoes that I'd like to last me for the rest of the holiday!

So, I had no choice but to free-wheel to an eventual stop. I stood sheepishly aside while my knight in shining armour (poor Alex) battled to hook the thick-with-oil chain back onto the cog (much of which was hidden under a big rusty metal guard). Oh dear. The air turned a delicate shade of blue, unfortunately not for the last time on our cycle along the forest trail as bumps and a not-so-serious-cyclist who loves hitting the bumps and a dodgy loose chain simply don't go too well together...

However, once we were off the trail and back onto the smooth cycle path, all was well again. Well, all was well with my chain and my braking system, but stumbling upon a military base and being ordered off our bikes was another matter altogether! But I think I'll keep that particular not-so-serious story for another time...

Story 19: Appreciating what's on my doorstep

One of the things I love most about our cycling trips is that we're always moving along slowly enough to take in and appreciate the scenery round about us. And we're extremely lucky in that we don't have to travel very far to find some of the most scenic routes. Today we decided to leave from home and head into Stirling for breakfast (in a wee place called Toast, where Claudia - the lovely owner - and her staff make the best French toast with bacon and maple syrup I've ever tasted!) before deciding where to go from there. But before we'd even left the house, I was appreciating the view in front of me. We're very lucky to live in an ordinary house with an extraordinary view, and I never take it for granted:


After pulling on my gloves and pulling up my balaclava, we set off along one of the quiet back roads to Stirling, nestled in between the fields and the hills all the way:



After breakfast - did I mention that Toast make the best French toast with bacon and maple syrup I've ever tasted...

- we decided to cycle through the Riverside area of Stirling, across to Cambuskenneth then on towards Bridge of Allan. Looking resplendent as ever, The Wallace Monument sat on the crag ahead of us. I see the Wallace Monument most days and it's a sight I never grow tired of (the same could be said about the legs and the rear of the cyclist who's peddling along in front of me...):

From Bridge of Allan it was quite a hard cycle - uphill and in to the wind most of the way - on the main road to Dunblane. That road's also surrounded by lovely scenery, but I was panting like an old wifey with my head down all the way to Dunblane so, the view of the tarmac below me had to suffice for this wee section! Coming out of Dunblane, we carried on towards the village of Kinbuck. Fortunately for us cyclists (but not so much so for folks in their cars) this road's closed to vehicles at the moment as there are some stone repairs being carried out on the Kinbuck Bridge. It's a quiet road anyway, but it was lovely being able to cycle along without having to take the usual precautions for traffic. From Kinbuck we headed over the scaffolded bridge to head back towards Dunblane on another of the quiet back roads. Yet again, the surroundings were glorious:

I absolutely loved the downhill-most-of-the-way next few miles back to Bridge of Allan and the cows and sheep would've heard a fair few Wheee's and Woo Hoo's along the way! A welcome cup of coffee while sitting outside Jam Jar (al fresco style in almost mid-October!) set us up nicely for the last leg home. We took the quiet back road again and enjoyed being blown along it for most of the way.

We cycled about 37 miles today and we were enveloped in greenery and gorgeous scenery for almost every one of those miles. How very, very lucky we are to live where we do, and to have found the perfect way to soak up the scenery that's right on our doorstep. And, how very lucky we are to have had so much sunshine - even when it's baltic - since I became hooked on cycling! Yup, if you'd told me a few months ago that I'd be leaving my house - in full sight of my neighbours - wearing a balaclava to keep me warm whilst riding 37 miles on a road bike I'd have laughed out loud and told you not to be so silly! Three months on from our first cycle I'm still loving every trip as much as the last, and today was a brilliant reminder that we don't have to travel far from home to find the perfect way to spend a Sunday.

Story 18: Hint and you will get

Alex, my husband, has been my right hand man since we were 15. We'd had the odd fling or two between the ages of 13 and 14, but we didn't get serious till we were the ripe old age of 15! He's my soul mate and I'd simply be lost without him. I mean, who would put my chain back on my bike, or lift it up on to the cycle rack or fix any of the punctures that I'm bound to start getting?! (Yup, still no punctures!!) And I would never have contemplated cycling around Arran that special day in July - the one that started it all - without his encouragement and his dogged determination to make the very most of things. He's just the pools.

So, after bemoaning the fact that I was struggling to figure out a way of including personalised basic maps of our rides on this wee blog - without having to worry about copyright and such things - it should've come as no surprise when I arrived home the other night to a kitchen table covered in hand drawings of map outlines. But it did! I was chuffed to bits with them and so grateful that Alex had spent so much time and effort (while I was out gallavanting) sketching them out for me. And I can't wait to start adding some details before figuring out the best way to incorporate them into the blog. I'm beginning to think this is all a bit much for a blog and maybe I should think about a website...

Before I get carried away with myself, I'll stick to bringing the maps of the routes we've already cycled up to date and figuring out the best way to utilise them here. In the meantime, here's a wee sample of the kind of thing that Alex, my wonderful Man of Many Talents, rustled up for me:

Story 17: or, should that be, Poem 1...

Yesterday was National Poetry Day and, after reading some lovely poems, I was inspired to jot down a ditty of my own. My new found passion for cycling - and my strong belief that the path to contentment lies in doing what feels right for you and not what other people tell you is right for you - provided the inspiration! I've recorded me reading it out loud as, like most of my ditties (I feel like a bit of a fraud calling them poems...), it's better heard than read. It's just a bit of fun really (just like my cycling) so I hope you enjoy it:
Click here to listen to my ditty 'The Saddle'

Story 16: Paddling, cycling and soaking up the scenery on a sunny September weekend

The weather over these past few months has been incredible in Scotland and Autumn has started with a flourish of sunshine too. I went paddling on Sunday . Yup, paddling. In a loch. In Scotland. At the end of September. Brilliant!

I could write screeds about the fantastic time we had during our couple of days away, cycling around the Loch Lomond area, but I'm going to be lazy (yet again) and let my video clips do the talking. (I'll never be a published writer at this rate...!)

Day One:

We were based in Drymen for the weekend, a nice wee place frequented by West Highland Way walkers and very noisy Wedding Party guests. The latter kept me awake most of Friday night, but that didn't stop me getting on my bike on Saturday morning and setting off for the 22 mile round trip to Rowardennan and back. And, boy, am I glad I did:



Many moons ago, I studied Zoology at Glasgow University. The department regularly used Rowardennan's field station for student trips and, sitting supping my half-pint in the beer garden of the Rowardennan Hotel on Saturday, I had fond memories of the boozy nights spent in the hotel's pub. How we ever made it back to the field station - after a fair wee walk in the pitch dark and a paddle in the loch - I'll never know. I might be twenty odd years older now but some things never change...



I found the cycle back to Drymen pretty tough. Those pesky undulations! However, the beautiful surroundings definitely helped take my mind off how knackered I felt:



An ice cream stop, amongst the throng of the tourists in Balmaha, set us up nicely for the hilly few miles back to Drymen. I had some gear issues on one of the hills; I'm not great at judging which gear I should be in and, as a result, my chain often comes off - usually when we're half way up a particularly steep hill - because I'm faffing about trying to change gear and forgetting to keep peddling at a rate that'll allow the chain to jump from one cog to another. And, poor Alex sometimes has issues with my gear issues...


A lovely meal in the Drymen Inn finished the day off good style, and I slept like a baby that night. The undulations, the paddling, the fresh air and the good fun on our bikes made sure of that.

Day two:

After stuffing ourselves with buffet breakfast (mmm) we set off for a cycle in the opposite direction from the day before. Our intention was to cycle to Balloch, stop for coffee, then cycle on to Luss (basically following National Cycle Route 7 before joining the West Lomond Cycle Way), stop for lunch, then cycle back to Drymen. It was a lovely route, on quiet cycle paths nearly the whole way, and it was yet another gloriously sunny day:



Coffee in Balloch was followed by a wee detour to Cameron House, one of the really posh hotels on the banks of the loch. Our kids had bought us a voucher for a flight on the sea plane, which takes off and lands by Cameron House, and we'd booked our seats for the flight last Friday (and a room in one of the not-so-posh hotels in Drymen to make a weekend of it). However, Loch Lomond looked like this last Friday:

So, we've postponed the flight till next year (which is great really as it gives us the perfect excuse to have another weekend of cycling at Loch Lomond next June!) But, we couldn't resist cycling down to have a wee look at the plane during our Sunday cycle. As sheer good luck would have it, the flight came in to land just as we arrived:

I really struggled during the cycle from Cameron House to Luss. It's not that far, about 5 miles or so, and it's practically flat all the way. But the wind was in our faces and I think my legs were starting to give out from the day before's efforts. However, we did eventually make it and sat down to another sunny al fresco lunch in lovely Luss. The whole way through lunch I was thinking about the cycle back. And every now and again I'd say things like, "I wonder if there's a bus from here to Drymen...?" As luck would have it, we found something better than a bus:



So, there we go, another great weekend of cycling under my belt. I'm wondering if it's weird that I enjoy recording snippets of our wee trips just as much as I enjoy the actual cycling! Ocht, whether it's weird or not, I love having this wee record of our trips. And, hopefully these not-so-serious-stories and snippets might entice some of you, dear readers, to jump back on to your bikes too? You'll love it - I'm serious!