Aviemore to Perth (NCN 7 and 77)– 88 miles


1/2 November 2013


Those have really been 2 wild days. On a stubborn decision to stick to my training plan I took the train to Aviemore for another solo trip, on the first of November. I am just so happy nobody was so crazy as to follow me in this one as I am not sure how I would have coped with the guilt of mirroring the feeling of rainy misery in someone else eyes. Since the start all the omens were not much promising: red morning sky, forecasts and even this mysterious woman in black coming from the dead world (or the Beltane Hallowing party as it turned out to be) wishing me good weather, but oh well, this is Scotland I though, if you look at the weather you go nowhere, sure it can't be that bad!




So, there I was, on the 6.30am train explaining to the hangovering woman in black the plan for the 2 days. Today I will cycle 60 miles along the NCN 7 from Aviemore to Pitlochry, and tomorrow I'll head off at 7am to take as much as daylight I can and try to cycle the 85miles back to Edinburgh. The woman looking as me as if I was the crazy one and asking ”do you do this for charity?” “mmhh, well no, I just do that because I like it”. The two of us were quite puzzled at each other and opted for some silence to break the awkwardness of our worlds crashing.

So, dressed up as a yeti and wrapped up in goretex I started to pedal South with a blue sky, a colour that I would not have seen for the rest of the journey. After 30 min the sky opened the sink and forgot to close it for all the rest of the day. A strong wind was blowing again me too, fresh snow was colouring the surrounding hills, and the hilly path was not making it easier either. On thinking “at least I thought the tarmac is very good”, holes and rocks started to tickle poor Kona. This was probably the most miserable cycling day of my life, but even in those conditions, when I asked myself “would I rather be somewhere else right now?” the answer was clearly NO. The Highlands have the power to make you feel alive, and that's what drove me there in the first place. Like in life when everything sucks, the only option is to keep moving on, no matter what. And there I was, alone, in the middle of nowhere cycling up the infamous Drumochter Pass, slapped by icy rain and wind, and it just felt beautiful, beauty was all around me, so tragic in its malleable forms. The contrast of colours and light was so dramatic and was changing so quickly that it was hard to take it all together. Just amazing, no regrets at all.

After 3 hours of cycling in those conditions with no sign of even a tree I could use as shelter, there was the miracle, out of nowhere a possibly abandoned trailer, with an open door! I don't know who it belonged to, but whoever you are, thank you!! that was the best present ever. I had the chance to rest half an hour even if I was still freezing and soaked I could eat something in peace and get ready for the second part of the day. The major problems were still the feet and hands, both wet and frozen. I shouldn't probably say that, but I'm so thankful to plastic bags, they work even better than goretex shoes paid hundred of pounds. I still had an emergency pair of gloves, so that I put plastic bags on top of them and the soaked gloves on top, same for the feet, that worked wonder and kept me going to Pitlochry. By that stage it was getting dark already and the cycling path joined a B road, with all the rain, passing cars and the flooding road the last bit was quite dangerous but I arrived in the hostel with some daylight and had a loooong hot shower, and the chance to dry up all the stuff with much amusement of my room mates, who again asked me if I was doing it for charity...


The second day was another early start to take as much daylight as possible. The sky was tragic, so red it seemed a murder was committed that night, freezing cold and misty. I put on all the clothes I had and started to cycle to Perth. I was feeling great. It was like in a fairy tale. The road was surrounded by red fens, arches of yellow, red and green trees and a red carpet on the ground. Deer and birds chatting here and there and cheering me up. The mist was getting thicker and thicker the more I was going up, and in some point I couldn't see anything more than 20m away. The multi coloured fairy tale forest gave way to the silence and stillness of dew drunk fields. It was like when diving, I could here my breath so clearly, calm, deep, regular, keep going.


After 3 hours I finally get to Perth, took out the map, checked the time and pondering if heading back to Edinburgh or Dundee, and then the rain started to pour down again and made the decision easier, get the train, enough of adventure for 2 days.


You know the typical picture of Scotland, with the castle, blue lake and sky? I should take a picture of myself in the abandoned trailed, freezing cold, pouring wet and wrapped up in plastic bags with the write “THIS is Scotland!” I'm glad I went, it was a good shot of life, I really loved every moment of it. It was a great physical and mental training but with much regret that gave an end to the 2013 cycling season, time to focus on running and plan new routes for year coming!