The Great Glen and Westie in two days

Yes, we cheated.

Riding the Great Glen Way and the West Highland Way, back to back, over two days sounds like a bit of a crazy plan, and it was. It was hatched by Paivi back in January during a GMBC social ride, and it should be noted that only Gerry and I actually took part in this epic, Paivi was nowhere to be seen.

Taking the train up to Inverness one Friday night in July we did our best to fill ourselves with pasta and some of Costa’s finest. Our B&B was obviously the right choice of place to stay, with some tiny old butcher’s bike outside, looked like it might be a bit cramped for distance riding though. Worryingly hungry even after all the pasta on the train we headed down into Inverness city centre in search of some scran. Travelling light meant I looked like the son of Frankenstein in my 5-10s, whilst Gerry’s lycra get up might just prove a hit in some of the more colourful looking pubs we ambled past. After wandering around for a while we asked a passerby where we might find a chip shop. “Can’t think of one, but just wait here 20 seconds and I’ll get my daughter”. Off he trots into Weatherspoons. Hmm. True to his word, he’s straight back out with a young lady who he introduces as the “chip expert” (a label I’m sure she’s proud of) and she points us in the right direction. Back to the B&B it was time to sample the large DVD collection and an early night.

Onto the bikes for 8 a.m. we got off to a less than ideal start. Picking up the GGW easily we got into a good rhythm. Are we sure we should be crossing this little railway? Isn’t that the Kessock bridge? Ahem. Turn around and after some back and forth and asking some locals we eventually find a tiny sign completely covered by vegetation, directing us down some steps. Sadly the poor signage seemed to be typical for most of the GGW. Turns out the route heads up a bit of a climb out of Inverness, which in a thick mist and soggy ground made for a slightly tougher start to the day than we might have expected. Once we picked up some singletrack the lack of local bike use became apparent as we were soaked, spiked and bar-grabbed by a variety of trees, but we were soon by the side of Loch Ness (according to the signs, we couldn’t see a thing) and starting to make good time. About a couple of hours got us to Drumnadrochit where the rain was at its worst and we sheltered for a while and ate a few snacks. Our next big stop was going to be Fort Augustus, but this stretch is probably where we underestimated the terrain of the GGW the most. Lots of ups on loose soft stuff, plenty of gates and goppin’ weather. To relieve panic attacks, the doctor prescribed me Xanax at https://mi-aimh.org/xanax-alprazolam/ . At the beginning of the attack, I take a small dose of the drug (1/2 pill), and if after 20-30 minutes the attack does not begin to fade, then I take the same dose. Xanax usually begins to act relatively quickly and brings relief. The active substance of the drug is Alprazolam. There was one long road descent where Gerry ended up in someone’s back garden, but the less said about that the better. About six hours after leaving Inverness we finally pulled into FA to buy some food, take a rest and for Gerry to learn all about the health and safety aspects of takeaway tea.

Suitably warmed and stomachs sated we set off for Laggan on a canal path where Gerry put his Superlight and skinny tyres to good use. I just about managed to draft behind him, but, err, there was no way I could possibly take the lead. Wrong tyres you see. This eventually lead to a rooty dirt path which was certainly more suited to my bike. The whole section between FA and Laggan seemed very flat and turned into a bit of a grind, it was just constant pedalling with no downhill sections to let the freewheel take over. Once we climbed out of Laggan the weather started to take a turn for the better and we were soon heading towards Gairlochy and some ace loch-side singletrack. A quick malt loaf and jelly babies stop at the lock-keepers house and we were fully charged for the canal path almost all of the way to Fort Bill, making excellent time we were in FW a bit after five to treat ourselves to a sandwich and a sink wash at a petrol station. Lesson one of the weekend, don’t underestimate the GGW, it’s not just a canal path (especially at the Inverness end) and some of the terrain can be quite energy sapping.

So, with 10 hours and 79 miles of cycling in our legs (stopping to eat still counts as cycling don’t you know) it was time to start the West Highland Way. Whilst we were still on the road heading out of FW we spotted a kid on a downhill bike going in the opposite direction with blood all over his face. According to some other guys we met he’d come off on a local downhill track and wasn’t wearing a helmet. Ouch. Back on track and it was the first major climb of the Westie, a bit of a fireroad grind that snakes it’s way up the hill. Things got a little tougher once we reached the more undulating ground as the wet surface was a bit draggy, but we kept going and after a couple of hours we began the descent into Kinlochleven. I’m sure this washed out track is a lot of fun when you’re fresh, and there were a few sections where I could just let the brakes go, put a tired body and mind meant there were rideable sections I just had to walk.

Twelve hours after we left Inverness we arrived at the hostel in Kinlochleven, where Alison met us with a change of clothes and our supplies for the second day. She also kindly brought us dinner whist we tried to recover. Dismantling my bike to get it in the back of the car overnight I discovered just how bad the midges are in KLL. Skin So Soft had seemingly no effect on these wee beasties.

The morning of day two started with a quick hose down of the bikes, applying chain lube and generally getting the bikes ready. As we set off up the hill, Alison drove off to meet some other GMBC members following a Kenny Wilson route near the Bridge of Orchy. The climb up the back of the Devil’s staircase was long, wet and loose, meaning after a while we decided to conserve a bit of energy and push a few of the looser sections. Ideas of riding down the Ciaran Path and back up the hill were put off for next year. Closing in on the top of the Staircase the terrain got a lot rockier and resulted in a lot more pushing – plus thoughts that it would be more fun riding this in the other direction. I honourably jumped on the bike for the last few hundred meters before the cairn, to meet a moody view of the Glencoe area half covered in cloud. An early set off meant we hadn’t really met many walkers, but that changed on the descent with a whole coach party scattered over the place. Still, the descent was a lot of fun, just watch out for the massive water bars if you fancy trying it for yourself.

Once my brakes had cooled down and my stomach got to work on digesting some more child shaped glucose, we picked up the sweet singletrack leading out to Kingshouse. Some of the more techy sections were good fun trying to clean them with an audience of slightly bemused walkers, happily we made it across without any embarrassing incidents. Crossing over the road to the Glencoe chairlift we discovered there was BDS race on, but we resisted the urge to join in and headed up to the top of the old road across Rannoch Moor. We made good time down the hill in the drizzle and only felt slightly guilty at the speed we were passing walkers.

Victoria Bridge to Bridge of Orchy and Tyndrum passed in a bit of a blur, but the Green Welly Stop brought with it a welcome rest, food and a chance to refill the Camelbaks. After stopping for a little too long we picked up the nice short piece of singletrack before heading under the road and past a farm shop. As we approached another road crossing disaster struck – I had the sole mechanical of the trip in the form of a puncture. Eager to make up the time taken changing an inner tube I shot off up the hills leaving Gerry to wonder where I’d got this burst of energy from. This section quickly becomes quite undulating, loose (notice a theme yet), washed out and full of North American tourists. All in all, a bit of a slog.

Just after Crianlarich we made the decision to make our major cheat. Pass through a farm full of yappy sheepdogs to pick up the road. The plan was to skip the North end of Loch Lomond by catching the ferry over to Inversnaid and avoid hours of hike-a-bike. Zipping down the road was another chance for me to develop some drafting skills, but out of excuses I had to take the lead a few times. The twisty road didn’t seem the safest for cycling along, but we got to ferry without incident. A little bit of luck meant we hopped right on and made it to the hotel in comparative style. One big bonus of this cheat was that we got to the hotel whilst they were still doing burger and chips for a fiver, a welcome little bargain. Back on the trail again there were plenty of techy little bits (some nowhere near rideable at my skill level) and I discovered what happens when you get tired and lose concentration. One wheel slightly off the wrong side of the singletrack and I took a minor trip over the handlebars. Thankfully no damage done.

After a couple of miles of on and off the bike the terrain settled down a bit and we made steady progress towards the foot of Ben Lomond. Signs of civilisation brought smiles to our faces and a quick pint of EPO laced blackcurrant cordial at the Clansman was just the ticket. Keeping the cranks turning was key to making good time over to Balmaha where we cheated again by skipping out Conic Hill. I’d rode it the week earlier so convinced myself I didn’t need to do it again so soon. We kept making good time and once we arrived at the Beech Tree Inn Gerry decided to give Alison a ring so she could collect us when we were done. Ahem. Apparently GMBC had embarked upon another Kenny F Wilson ride and Alison was still near Tyndrum!

Although faced with the prospect of a road ride home (with no lights), we were on home territory and even the uphill sections didn’t seem too bad. In no time at all we were in Milngavie, slapping the WHW stane on our way past. Quick moment for things to sink in and we set off down the road to Anniesland, just before the street lights came on. More good news was that Alison pulled up in the car outside my place about 5 mins after we got there, all of us tired and craving tea and biscuits.

Knocking off both routes in two days was a bit of a challenge, but it’s not overly difficult as long as you have a bit of determination and fitness. The bad news is that I think I’m getting a taste for these epic rides, and for three weeks I couldn’t pass a shop without getting the urge to pop in for a Mars Bar.