GT 24: West Highland and Great Glen Way in Not Quite a Day

Midweek apprehension; a big weekend looms, plans and kit list ongoing but the memory of our last aborted attempt hangs heavy. The water bars of Conic Hill a reminder that we are heading back to serious mountain biking country where feed stops are 40 miles apart and black trail features surprise round every other corner. 

Dramatic skies on the M74 northbound

On the bright side we were returning better prepared and with some support, Emily had kindly agreed to drive the van from Glasgow to Inverness saving us an uncomfortable train journey back to Glasgow, and more importantly offering an escape route if something serious went wrong. The odds of 'something serious' going wrong seemed fairly high to me given that on our last attempt we managed two punctures, one concussion and a fatally collapsed freehub within 30 miles of the start. Hmm, maybe a weekend of football, IKEA and washing the car would be a better idea. 

Friday night and Saul, Emily and myself were out on the town in Glasgow, well nearly, we were in Nando's in search of a good veggie pre-ride meal. Our Ibis hotel room had more in common with a hospital than a hotel room but it was convenient for tomorrow's ride start at the Riverside Museum on the Clyde. After our meal we discussed the next day and foolishly convinced ourselves that we'd be done within 24 hours and therefore a late start would be a good idea to avoid getting to South Kessock near Inverness too early. Naivety was not our usual strategy.

Sleep interrupted by post revelry antagonism in the nearby car park and the incessant motorway noise, I was glad when it was finally time to ride. Along the riverside to the SECC where we spotted several cycle team buses parked up for the Tour of Britain stage the next day. 

A couple of cheeky selfies later and we were back at the Riverside museum, déjà vu. 

At least we had a better idea of the escape from Glasgow route and we were soon settling in for a big day as we rolled along an old railway line towards Loch Lomond. Amidst the walkers we passed a man carrying a bird of prey on his hand, we ignored the urge to shout 'nice bird'. This section was busy with walkers who often didn't hear our approach so progress was intermittent.

Start of the West Highland Way (WHW)

Busker in Milngavie

Problems with my eTrex GPS were worrying me, it was unable to load the route up despite testing it back at home the previous week. It was an hour into the ride before it loaded up the right maps and route, fortunately we knew this section from our last attempt. The climb up Conic Hill hadn't got any easier and we were really steady descending the far side, Saul was practicing his 'ride within myself' mantra avoiding the steps and carrying the technical sections. Passing the point where he crashed last time felt like an achievement and it was all new to us from here on.

Conic Hill

Loch Lomond went on forever, initially fun and at times technical singletrack became unrideable after several miles and we were into the 'hike a bike' section. We'd averaged around 12mph to here but this figure plummeted as we squeezed between rocks, climbed stairs and tried not to overbalance into the loch. Hours disappeared and we still couldn't see the head of the loch. Some parts were rideable but the drains and water bars had already caused two punctures to Saul's back wheel and we were soon replacing a third tube. My chain then snapped but fortunately I had a spare link and chain breaker so we were soon moving again. That was until I realised that I couldn't unclip from my right pedal due to a lost cleat bolt. Fortunately I carried spare bolts and cleat since a similar mishap whilst racing the Manx 100 had lost me valuable time and sapped my enthusiasm.

Hike a bike 'til you don't like

Another puncture

Progress on the rocky singletrack at the head of the loch was steady so we were relieved to finally find a fast double track taking us north towards Crianlarich and Tyndrum. We were surprised to pass several groups of young girls and family group walking the route here, so far we'd only encounter older couples. It was strange to think that these walkers were taking a week to walk a route that we hoped to complete around today. More quality singletrack led through dark pine woodland and across moorland blooming with purple heather but we had little time to take in the view and the drizzle and idles kept us moving until we reached the Green Welly in Tyndrum. 

6pm. It was hours later than we'd planned reach this point, the light was starting to fade and we had a major section of trail to tackle before Fort William, nine hours to tackle sixty miles seemed depressingly feeble. Nothing to do but stock up on overpriced flapjack and nuts and carry on. The track to Bridge of Orchy was fast as was the old drover's road up to Rannoch Moor but darkness  arrived just as we crossed one of the remotest sections of the route. A further puncture to Saul's rear wheel whilst descending to the Kings House was fixed by torchlight as midges feasted on any exposed flesh they could find. This had become 'Type 2' fun, we pressed on regardless. 

The Devil's Staircase climb became a shove rewarded by the view back towards Rannoch Moor, tiny car headlights far below us the only clue to our progress. The top of the climb was cloaked in mist but the descent to 'The Electric Village' (Kinlochleven) was a blast despite the dark, wet conditions. What comes down must go back up, surely the next climb would be our last before Fort William? We had soon ground to a halt as Saul stopped to fix his Exposure light mount which unusually had worked its way loose. 

The long descent fooled us into thinking we were in the home straight for the WHW but the glow in the sky behind the ridge to our right confirmed my suspicion that there was more work to be done. We crawled up the steep climbs and dropped through deer fenced timber plantations to arrive at the back of Fort William. We headed to the rendezvous point but the van was nowhere to be seen so we had a look down Fort William high street to see if she was waiting at the end of the WHW. Again, no sign and I was growing frustrated as we wasted time dodging drunks in Fort William when we should be on our way to Inverness. A quick call and Emily and the van were located on the quayside, desperate for some real food I jumped in the van to pull out a sandwich I'd left in there the previous day.

Official end of the WHW

It was now 1am Sunday, hours later than we'd planned to arrive. We had eight hours to complete our ride, fortunately the Great Glen Way (GGW) started out fast and flat, a top gear mission in our tunnel of torchlight. To either side of our path was water but all we could see was the hard pack track stretching away into the darkness of the highland night. Occasional climbs broke up the monotony of the small hours and a donated caffeine gel kept me awake and on the trail. By this point I was craving some real food, flapjack, chocolate and cereal always lost their appeal after seventeen hours. Fortunately I had some nut butter sandwiches left but once they were exhausted my stomach grumbled, unaccustomed to the high energy diet we needed to complete this ride. I checked my watch and estimated how long it would take to the next village. It was pointless really, hours were flying by and we weren't hanging about but the scale of this ride was epic, we'd get there when we got there.

At Fort Augustus the character of the GGW changed, the GT24 opted for the high level GGW sections so we were once more grinding and shoving upwards through the forest round tight gravel hairpins. A wide singletrack roller coaster lurched towards the glimmer of dawn on the horizon. I fought with my gears which encrusted with mud were now very reluctant to work, I became convinced my brakes were dragging but it was just the thick gravel of the trail slowing progress.

Dawn arrived as we summited the second high level section of the GGW but we were far from done with our granny gears. More steep climbs and a great descent to Drumnadrochit for a final refuel before that last twenty miles into Inverness. We expected another climb and this one didn't disappoint but once done we rolled nearly all the way to Inverness, to our left the Northern highlands, to our right the the foothills of the Cairngorms. The last few miles were particularly great, a wide smooth downhill track was nirvana after some of the trails of the last twenty four hours and Inverness was bathed in sunshine. Along the riverside following the purple line on the GPS route to a final effort along the road into South Kessock where Emily waited patiently with here dog Spin. 10am, slower than expected at twenty five hours but we'd made it. Tough but not quite killer, there was unfinished business here.