BB200, the Covid Edition

You know that scene in Independence Day where Will Smith and Jeff Goldbloom have taken the alien fighter from Area 51 and are inside the alien mothership having downloaded the virus and left a primed atomic bomb as a present, are then being chased by other alien fighters as the mahoosive doors in the side of the ship are being closed and they get out in the nick of time?

Well this was nothing like that.

With the "fluid" situation regarding Covid this year's BB200 was, erm, different. Firstly, rather than being in Mid-Wales it was a bit further south around the Brecon Beacons, an area I really didn't know - I can't even remember taking family holidays there - certainly never walked or biked in the area. The second main difference was that rather than being on the second weekend of October and starting from one location we could choose when (in October) and where on the loop we started/finished.

Event entered, GPX received it was time to start planning.

Having decided on one starting point just before the biggest climb of the route we changed our minds and began about 40km before that which meant that we'd hit two, possibly all three of the towns on the route during opening hours. You've got to think about these things.

People

Debouching from the sunken track I head up a thankfully dry and firm farm track. A fancy car is heading down. "Are you lost?" says the woman driver in a very well-to-do voice, "Err, probably!", "Follow me, I'll show you where you need to go." With that she reversed at speed back up the track - obviously done that before. Once I'd told her where I was trying to get to she explained where the track went and what to avoid. Very nice woman.

There's a shout from the driver of the flat bed Transit, whatever he'd said it didn't sound like the usual anti-cyclist tirade, turns out they were looking for a farm or something, "sorry mate, I've never been here before so I'd be no help."

There's definitely fresh tracks in the mud. Two MTBs and one gravel bike. On the big climb I see a figure ahead pushing a bike up a steep grass slope. The slope is actually rideable but the mud bank after the stream definitely isn't so I might as well walk to the top. The rider waves, I wave back. Eventually I catch up, it's a woman on a gravel bike: "Ah, you're the set of tracks I've been following this morning!" A few words in reply but I'm now back on the bike and breathing heavily so can't reply, sorry. I get to the top and look back, she's heading back down the hill, maybe she's dropped something. Whatever, she's the only other rider I see.

I never did see the two MTBs though occasionally there'd be a wet set of tyre prints on a rock.

It's about an hour after dark and I've just shut the gate at the end of a farm track when a car approaches and indicates to head down the track so I open the gate for them. "Thank you!" says the farmer with a smile. Apart from a couple of walkers he'll be the last person I see until the finish in another twelve hours. Being alone on ITTs is common, you need to deal with it.

I ride on in my small pool of light.

Going past properties at night can be tricky, you need to keep your lights pointed down rather than shining into bedroom windows and waking people up. Then the dogs start barking. Nothing much to do about that but carry on and hope that the gates are easy to negotiate and don't creak or bang.

Kit

It's quite chilly. I decide to take two pairs of long fingered gloves rather than one short and one long. I start with arm warmers and a windshirt thinking I'll take them off later in the day and put them back on at nightfall. It turns out that I never take them off but just undo the windshirt on climbs. A buff (also used as face covering for shops) is my only other temperature regulator. Ease off on the climbs so as not to sweat as the descents could be fast.

BEEP! My GPS shows low battery so despite only having done 60km I swap in my spare set. Hmm. BEEP! It's 1am and again my GPS is showing a low battery warning despite only having done another 100km. A good job I'd thought to buy some plain AAs when at the filling station, just hope they'll last to the end. The rechargeables are Duracell, maybe they're at end of their life.

I'd be worried about riding this route with tubes. The farmers have been out cutting their hedges and the roads are littered with the thorns and brash that haven't yet had time to become weathered or trampled to soft pulp by passing cars.

One section of moorland down another three to go. I'm passing through the farm on the edge of the moor when my bar light starts flashing, the battery's running out of juice. Hmm, a long way to go yet, if the other light goes I'll have to sit things out until dawn. It's been hard enough distinguishing the ruts and mud with both lights, it will be much harder with just the one especially since I'll have to keep it on one of the lower power settings to see me through the next six hours or so. The dead battery pack is probably fifteen years old, maybe time for a new one. Annoying, you need to be able to trust your kit.

I ride on in my smaller pool of light.

Wildlife

A Red Kite is quartering the hillside. She flies close, silent, tail rotating to hold her steady in the breeze, her massive wingspan shading that part of the sky. Close enough that I can see the outline of each pale feather on her head, eyes unblinking, she's obviously checking me out but decides it's too early, she'll come back and pick over my carcase later.

A pair of spots glint in the dark. It's a fox. It scurries back and forth unsure what this one-eyed monster is, never too far away that I can't also see the shape of its body in the faint beam of my light. The cattle further on were less sanguine. Somehow I drift away from the line and have to heft my bike over a fence and head across the field until I find the track again Then it's downhill, with that comes speed, even though I can't go too quickly because of the light levels, and chills.

Bats flit around in the dusk, a sign that I need my lights. No idea what species, too quick in the low light for my eyes to determine. Late in the year for them I suppose, but they need food to have enough weight to survive their winter roost.

Mind

I only check the GPS for the mapping, ignoring the data screen except at specific points. I'm pleased to note I'm on time at the first town, down at the next. I'm also pleased to note that I reach my next milestone at 9pm, 125km done, 75km to go, 20hrs is doable. If only.

I'd miscounted the moorland sections, there's five. A myriad of tracks twisting hither and thither make progress frustrating in the dark and my "line" is a sawtooth as I drift away then ride back to the line. There's full cloud cover so I can't fix on a star or constellation for a bearing and ride to that. The last section finishes with a steep descent, would be great in the daylight but not at 4am having been on the go for over nineteen hours.

I carry on in my small pool of light.

My mind's playing tricks on me. I've turned off the main road and turned right and right again so I'm heading back towards town? I'm not, the left bends are bigger than the right and I'm heading the other way but I'm totally confused. It's as if I've been blindfolded and spun round and asked to point to North.

I trudge on in my small pool of light.

It's getting lighter, the dawn is near, and I'm at the end of the last off-road. There's form to the land now, faint light and shade rather than mirk and dark. The main road arrives soon enough and climbs away at that awkward angle you think should be easy but isn't. I'm wishing for the summit at every turn. The pedalling suddenly eases and I'm picking up speed. The downhill is short and the van appears where we'd left it, no police stickers or anything to say: "You shouldn't be here". 22hrs45mins. Twelve and a half hours for the first 125km, ten and a bit hours for the next 75km. I'm knackered so leave the bike lying outside, grab the sleeping kit and crash out for a couple of hours.

Perhaps it was something like that. Elvis has left the building.

Bikepacking Toolkit and Spares

A while since I've posted so since I haven't done any notable rides I thought I'd do a few posts about the kit I take. Starting with bike tools and spares.

Despite our best intentions occasionally things go wrong and generally there's no-one else around to sort it out. Enter the tool-kit. With a little forethought you can carry tools and spares that will fix most problems short of major breakages. So here's a run down of things to take along with techniques and the occasional tip. As with most things in life, prevention is better than cure so a well maintained bike is less likely to suffer problems - "A stitch in time" and all that. They still happen though and accidents do occur - the only time I've needed to use any tools out on the trails in the last few years was to refit my shifter after a crash. Before we get to the tools and stuff there's a couple of ancillary items that are well worth taking.

Firstly a light of some kind. Obviously if you ride at night then you'll have a light on the bike but these are pretty vicious in terms of output, even at their lowest settings, and aren't designed for close up work. In the case of dynamo lights they are fixed to the bike and the standlight only lasts a couple of minutes anyway. So a small headtorch (with charged batteries!) will let you see what you are doing. Petzl Zipka, Alpkit Muon or Viper are all fine and pack up small, the Zipka with batteries weighs just 65g. An alternative (and something that you are likely to have with you anyway) may be your mobile phone - some have a "spotlight" option. Next, if it's cold (or winter) then one of those chemical handwarmers to keep your digits nice and flexible and capable of doing the work or even putting on the area of bike being worked on to avoid cold induced brittleness.

As ever with practical things it's worth practising in a comfortable environment - being out on the moors in driving rain as darkness is falling isn't the time to start reading the instruction manual: "Thank you for purchasing this product, we hope it gives you many years service ...". As above it's pretty rare things go wrong: I've only used a tyre plug in anger twice in seven years which is hardly enough to become proficient.

Examples:

• get an old tyre and stab and slash it to see how plugs/anchovies work and how to sew a tyre back together; 
• use the chain tool on old chains or the bit of chain you removed when fitting the new one. 

Even then when using the tyre plug it's a different matter inserting it on a mounted tyre than on an old one just lying around, you've got to avoid puncturing both another part of the tyre and disturbing the rim tape.

Multi-tool

Seemingly derigeuer these days, choose your favourite one. There's a few newer designs that aim to make use of empty space around your bike such as inside the crank spindle or the steerer column. But while convenient, multi-tools by their nature try to be all things to all riders, they're the Swiss Army knife of biking but do you really need all those bells and whistles?

Work out what your bike needs in the way of tools. There's a small range of hex/Allen keys that will do most of the bolts on a bike:  3, 4 & 5mm covers my Cotic Solaris' needs while my Singular Puffin fat bike needs 2, 4 & 5mm. Disc rotor bolts are usually Torx T25, some chainring bolts are Torx T20. Mech hanger bolts are usually 2mm hex.

I've got a set of Fixit Sticks that were on sale in a local bike shop. Only four "tools" (3, 4, 5mm hex and a Philips screwdriver) but the two halves slot together to make a T-shaped proper sized tool you can hold in your hand. Fixit also do a set of these with magnetic holders and replaceable bits. On a similar note a magnetic holder/wrench with the required standard hex bits is another alternative and can be lightweight and cheap to put together but does leave the problem of a chain tool.

You may need either a flat or Phillips screwdriver, in cold weather a regular screwdriver might be worth considering. One tool that is well worth taking is a set of pliers. For bike purposes the Leatherman Squirt covers most bases. Again, work out what you need and how a particular tool or feature will work in conjunction with your other kit.

You don't have to buy bike specific "kits" or tools, a look around most hardware stores will get you something that does the job if a little less elegantly.

In really cold weather it may be more worthwhile just taking full sized versions of whichever sizes of Allen Key your bike uses. The four needed for my fat bike weigh just 40g and I can get my whole hand around the handle/long side. Wrap in heat shrink (but not over the business ends) to avoid contact cold burns. Similarly a full sized Leatherman or Gerber tool rather than something like the Squirt will be easier to handle in the cold.

Pump

You need a pump designed for high volume as opposed to high pressure tyres. There's only a handful that are genuinely useful out on the trail: the Topeak Mountain Morph and the Lezyne HV mini-floor pump. Both have a "foot" as well as a T-handle for easier pumping and they both come with a hose so you aren't putting strain on the valve. The pump doesn't get used much so check that the seals haven't dried out prior to heading off on a trip and that it will pump the tyres up to the required pressure, again maintenance plays its part.

Inner tube

Even if you don't run tubeless (why not?) having a spare inner tube covers those situations where the tyre is damaged to the point where on its own it won't hold air. No need to go overboard, get the lightest tube you can find, something like the Surly ultra light. See a little later for mending tyres. There's also the Tubolito which are even smaller and lighter but various people have had problems with them. They aren't cheap either!

Tyre plugs

When something punctures your tyre and it's too big for the sealant to work then somehow you've got to plug that hole, ooer missus! Enter the tyre plug, often known as anchovies or bacon strips. Basically a strip of material along with applicator that you use to push said material into hole. There's a few systems around, they all do the same thing, usually there's two tools - a rasp or file to roughen up the edges of the hole and the applicator. Some also have a small blade to cut the material once you've plugged the hole but any knife/blade will do. I've the Sahmurai Sword which replaces the end caps on your handlebars thus making use of a somewhat wasted space. https://cyclorise.com/collections/sahmurai-sword

The strips as supplied are a bit long so cut them in half, they only have to be long enough to pass through the tyre wall when bent in two.

TIP: fit one length of the material in the applicator before heading out so you are ready to go.

Assuming you are quick off the mark, put a finger over the hole to try and stop too much air from escaping, after all you are only going to have to pump the tyre up again in a minute or two. Grab the rasp and push it into the hole and roughen the edges. Now grab the applicator and push in until the strip is in the hole a reasonable amount then put a finger on the strip and gently pull the applicator back out. Trim off any excess if you feel the need. Pump up the tyre. If you want to make a really permanent job then when you get home clean and dry the area and apply some flexible superglue over the strip and let it set.

Back to inner tubes. One side effect of the tubeless system working is that you tend not to know when you've had an "incident" that with tubes would see you stopped at the side of the trail either repairing a puncture or replacing the tube. Sometimes it's obvious when the sealant sprays out but more often than not the sealant just does its job especially with larger volume tyres that run at lower pressure. An inner tube should be your last resort for when all else fails. If you are lucky then you'll find the thorns and nails by running your fingers (carefully!) around the inside of the tyre before fitting the tube. The problem is that often you'll get embedded sharps that don't fully push through the tyre carcase and only show themselves when that part of the tyre strikes an edge and the thorn or whatever pushes into the tube then retreats back into hiding. On one occasion I put in a tube after carefully checking the inside of the tyre. The tube would slowly deflate over a couple of hours. When I got home and checked there were six pin-prick punctures in it!

TIP: get some tissue paper or similar and wipe it around the inside of the tyre. Any thorns will snag the lightweight paper and will be easier to find. Leatherman/Gerber like tools usually have some form of pliers which are ideal for removing any thorns.

Spares

Again this is very bike and component specific.

Spare valve and valve cores: Over time tubeless sealant can clog up the valve so grab a few spare valve cores, and pack one or two. You'll need either a valve core tool or a pair of pliers (e.g. Leatherman Squirt) to remove/replace it. If your multi-tool has a chain tool then there's a suitably sized slot on that that will also work. I also take a spare valve especially if it's a remote trip or I'm heading somewhere where I'm not sure whether I'm going to get spares.

Chain: Quick links of appropriate size for your chain. Also keep that short length of chain you removed when originally fitting it, if you do break/wreck a chain then it's easy to repair. You don't need any special tools to remove the quicklink, an old piece of gear/brake cable or even zip-ties can be used to squeeze the two sides together - thread the cable through the links either side, cross the wires over and pull. Alternatively use some pliers. One other technique is to use your chainring: position the quicklink so that it sits on the chainring, now lift the chain at one side and pull it towards the quicklink by one link such that you form a triangle sticking up from the chainring with the quicklink forming one side. Now push down on the QL and it should come apart.

One "tool" that is worth having is a chain holder - basically a piece of wire about 10cm long with hooks at both ends. Some chain tools and some multi-tools come with one but they are easy enough to make out of an old spoke or wire coat hanger. They are used to hold the chain either side of where you might break it with the chain tool or when putting the chain back together so that there isn't any tension in the work area.

To fit the quicklink it's a case of applying enough force to pull the pins into the correct parts of the slots. Put the quicklink together and spin the cranks until it is in the upper part of the loop where it will be under tension. Now stamp firmly on the pedal and it should snap into place. Make sure that both sides have engaged!

Gear cable: Some people pack one but I've yet to break one, again with proper maintenance this shouldn't be necessary - I'd replace gear (and brake cables if you've mechanical brakes) prior to a big trip. Then again only 10g and takes up next to no space.

Spare brake pads: I'd pack a set but it does depend where you are heading. Make sure you pack the correct pads for the bike! My Puffin has Avid BB7 brakes but I've a Hope rotor which has a set of rivets holding the braking surface to the spider which foul on the arms of the Avid pads so those need to be cut down before I head out.

Mech Hanger: One of those items that's almost impossible to source should you break it, I've bent one when out riding but not broken it. You'll almost certainly need a 2mm hex key for the bolts holding this.

I'll divide the spares in to generic and bike specific packs with the latter living permanently on the relevant bike. The pack is marked up with the bike's make/model so I don't head out with the wrong set of spares but I've usually got bags permanently fixed to the bikes and the kit lives in there.

In the shot below are the contents of one such bike specific tin, it measures 90x32x32mm and is at top right of the shot, an ex-work colleague vaped and this is one of his empty vaping gunk tins suitably washed (several times). All the items beneath it plus the nitryl glove go in to it.

• Allen key with magnetic holder
• 2, 3 & 4mm hex bits (the Allen key "handle" is 5mm), T25 bit
• Loctite flexible super glue
• pack of tyre plugs
• a set of spare brake pads and spring with retaining bolt
• spare valve core
• various nuts and bolts
• cable end crimps
• chain powerlink (appropriate size for the chain)
• spare mech hanger (with bolts)
• chain holder. 

 Total weight of tin and contents is 130g.

The pump is a Topeak DA something or other. There's a few wraps of Gorilla Tape around the handle.  To the left of this we have: tyre boot (old toothpaste tube); Leatherman Squirt tool;  tyre lever, Topeak mini chain tool (40g).

Along the top: Sahmurai Sword tyre plug tools that fit into the bar ends. A bunch of zip ties. A Tubolito emergency inner tube.

All that lot comes to under 500g (the pump and inner tube account for 200g of that) which isn't a great deal. Volume wise it's not a lot if you exclude the pump, I've a Wildcat Cheetah "Jerry can" top tube bag and it all goes in there with room to spare.

For more remote trips items like the Unior lockring tool that lets you remove the cassette and the Fiberfix emergency spoke can be useful. In the latter case a few spokes taped to the seat stays or inside the seat post (held by foam to stop rattling) is also an option.

The above should show that there's no reason a comprehensive set of tools and spares need either cost the earth or take up masses of room. Working out just what you need can pay dividends.

2018 Bivy a Month retrospective

Having missed out on getting a full twelve months' worth of bivvies for the last couple of years, in each case just a month was missed, we determined to give the Bivy-a-month challenge a proper shot.

January 

Another BB "do", this time the winter event. We'd got to the cafe at Bwlch y Sarnau and were wondering where to kip. I thought I'd better put a jacket on and noticed some old farm buildings so ended up with a four star bivy! Plenty of room to get us and the bikes inside out of the wind and rain. Turns out that the whole farm was up for sale for redevelopment so maybe not an option in future.

February 

A last minute grab this one. Decided to keep it very local so headed up the hill behind us, me on the fat bike, Cath on her plus wheeled Stooge. Cath rejected my first choice - locally known as "murder wood" after the body of a lady of ill repute was found there in the 1970s - no idea why she didn't fancy stopping there. So we carried on and made our way to close to the top of the hill. For a hill in the Pennines it's actually quite prominent and separate from the rest of the chain so it's pretty exposed. However, there's some old, shallow, quarry pits here, I'd used them for a bivy a couple of years ago when Cath was away skiing. The same spot I'd used before was out of the wind so up with the tarp.

It was only when we'd got bedded down and turned out the torches that we realised how bright the moon was (full moon in a couple of days) and with all the lying snow the whole area everything was well lit up. The main problem was that the pitch was on a very slight slope so we'd slowly slide out of the tarp! According to my thermometer it got to -7C while Cath's reckoned it was -8C, whatever, it was pretty nippy.

We were up at 0620 and packed away just as the first snow flurry hit. A bit of cheeky riding along the Pennine Way and then back home for 0730. Sorry no pics for this one.

March  & April 

We left it until even later than February but after work kiboshed getting away on Good Friday we headed up to do some riding based on the Wild About Argyll Trails. We set off from Arrochar on Saturday afternoon and ended up on a hillside above Loch Eck. We discovered during the night that silnylon bivy bags are very slippery and pitching up on even a slight slope has unintended consequences It was pretty cold, about -3C but that was March done. 3/3.

Sunday we continued and by the time we got to Tarbert on the Mull of Kintyre (cue McCartneys, Denny Lane and a band of pipers wandering along the beach) we decided to cut the route short and headed up the road to rejoin the return at Furnace. By this time it was a bit late so we bivvied on a flat spot overlooking the sea. 4/4.

Got back to the car just under 48hrs after leaving. Didn't have any rain or other precipitation so a good choice.

May 

We did our first Welsh Ride Thing and so got two bivvies for the price of one. The weather was brilliant all weekend. The first bivy was above Brithdir near Dolgellau whilst the second was on the shores of Llyn Vyrnwy

June  

We went for a rather warm ride up to the north west part of the Dales. We followed the Pennine Bridleway but with a few short cuts. After a nice meal in The Moorcock Inn we ended up bivvying close to the Water Cut sculpture near the north end of the PBW with Wild Boar Fell across the other side of the valley as a backdrop.

The following morning we rode the very northern bit of the PBW over the shoulder of Wild Boar Fell before heading back home via Sedbergh, Ribblehead and Malham.

July 

We went for a rather long ride this time, basically the Leeds-Liverpool canal to Wigan, the Bridgewater canal to join up with the Trans Pennine Trail then NCN 67 to Leeds before rejoining the LL canal to get back home.

We bivvied in Longdendale on the old railway line that once used the Woodhead tunnels.

We rose early, everything was bone dry - no condensation or ground damp. By the time we'd ridden the 6km to the tunnel entrances it was drizzling so good timing.

August: The French Divide.

September: A midweek strike.

I rode over to Cath's work (having forgotten that she finished at 1700 not 1730 ) then we set off up through the woods and on to the moor

I had thought of bivvying up on the top of the moor but it was very busy with a group of twenty or so mountain bikers going the other way then a group of fell runners then it looked like a pair of trails bikers were heading along the track! It was also a bit early and actually blowing a bit of a gale so we carried on.

We headed up from Hetton and found an old quarry working that was sheltered and had some flat spots to put up the tent. This was our first BAM using a tent, it's new and Cath wanted another night out in it. Anyway, I found another use for the Schnozzle bag - as a diffuser over an Exposure Joystick. Cue stereotypical nighttime shot of a lit tent ...

It rained through the night which wasn't forecast and it was a bit dreich in the morning. A quick pack up then it was down towards Threshfield, Cath headed to work while I headed home.

October 

Another getting to the end of the month and what shall we do job. Cold northerlies meant somewhere sheltered. We e eventually settled on top of the local hill! This was the same spot as for the February bivy.

We headed out on our fat bikes which gave Cath a chance to try her new tyres. It was about -3C when we set out but warmed up a bit through the night to around or just above freezing this morning. We used the same site, some old quarry workings, that we'd used on our Feb bivy as they are reasonably sheltered. We used the new Pole-a-Bear poles we got earlier in the week from Stu along with a carbon pole he'd made for me last year. What we didn't realise was that they came out about 150mm shorter than our normal reused old tent poles so the setup wasn't quite right.

There were a few light showers through the night but it was definitely nippy in the morning with some frost on the tarp.

November 

Got it in early this time. I persuaded Cath that the new tyres on her fat bike needed a proper ride so that they'd bed in.

With the short daylight hours timing was everything, we needed to get to the pub at about the time they started to serve food, a couple of hours there then off to wherever we would bivy. We left Buckden after midday and headed up on to Stake Moss then down via a new to us bridleway to Thornton Rust and then by road to Aysgarth where we took afternoon tea. Steady riding along the north side of the valley in ever increasing gloom and darkness got us to the pub in Bainbridge about forty minutes before food time.

Suitably replenished we left the pub at about 2000 and headed up the old Roman Road keeping a look out for potential bivy spots. After about a kilometre there was an open gate in to a flat field. Up with the tent. A couple of swigs of whisky and some snacks and we crashed out.

The morning was fine but looking a bit ominous so a quick breakfast then it was on and up the rest of the Roman Road and over Fleet Moss to Cam Head to drop down towards Ribblehead before cutting back through Langstrothdale forest. All the descent was in cold driving rain so by the time we got back to the car we were both soaked and frozen.

December

We chickened out of the BB Winter bivy, in the event it was probably just as well since black ice coated everything and it was difficult if not impossible to walk the short distance from the house door to the car! That meant our only real chance was our annual three day trip somewhere. We ended up in Kielder Forest visiting both Kershopehead and Flittingford bothies.

Most of the first day was really a night ride and in very thick fog it was a good job I'd put the route into the GPS to get us to Kershopehead. There were a couple of well oiled Carlisle lads in their already who'd already got the fire going. A steady day got us to Flittingford which fortunately was empty as it's very small.

The third day was a straightforward ride back to the car on tracks we'd used before.

So that's a full year's worth of bivvies.

BB200, the 2018 wet edition

Great things are done when men and mountains meet.

This is not done by jostling in the street.

William Blake

The last time I'd been at this stream it was fast flowing but clear and I'd almost managed to ride across it. Today it was a dirty brown roaring maelstrom. It didn't look good.

Two years ago I did my first BB200 gaining one of the coveted black badges. There must have been something about that year as over a third of the entrants also got a black badge. Rumours spread that that course was "easy". With the course being different each year it's hard to compare them but the 2014 route has a mythical status: apparently the riders didn't speak to Stu on their return to Llanbrynmair and there's lots of dark mutterings in to cups of coffee when it's mentioned.

"The bridge at 20km has gone. Use your own judgement on how to get round or across that stream." With that advice, I was away. The stream looked like one of those African rivers in the rainy season, a red-brown soup, surface features flitting past in the current. I knew that there were no tributaries joining it between here and the ford and also that I wasn't going to be crossing it. Farm and forestry tracks rejoined the route further upstream, they would do.

In truth none of the BB200 routes are "easy", they aren't meant to be, but the conditions on the day can make them much harder. The short daylight hours of October just add to this. There's no "winning" or "losing" but scratching is a hard choice. Making decisions in such conditions as we experienced on Saturday can have serious consequences.

In these days of 250km+ per day multi-day rides a mere 200km might not seem much to shout about but they are tough kilometres. Even the easy grassy bits you have to keep concentrating as a lot of the surface is a layer of wet soil and grass that has little resistance to pedalling and you can easily find yourself sideways to your original line of motion.

It's taken nearly seven hours to do the first 60km to reach the filling station/shop in Ponterwyd. There's a group of riders there refuelling. A cup of coffee, a sandwich and replenish supplies and I'm on my way in ten minutes or so. No point in standing around getting cold, it's another 50km to the next potential stop in Llangurig so time to crack on.

I'd not done the next section around the two bothies before so I don't really know what to expect. In the event there was another stream crossing, quite a bit deeper this one, and what would turn out to be the biggest hike-a-bike of the route. A bit of cramp at the top of this just as I get hit by a gust of wind. Fortunately it's downhill for a while and I work it off. Some stream enabled bridleways to the second bothy then I'm on familiar territory but the Broken Road is tricky in the wind.

It's also hard on kit. Given the number of GPS and light failures I think it's reasonable to say that manufacturers don't employ the 24hr spin cycle on their nearest industrial washing machine when testing their products. There was much discussion beforehand about the best way of keeping your feet dry with lots of "systems" being bandied about. It's probably safe to say that by the first thigh deep river crossing none of them were still working if indeed they ever had.

The road to the head of the Elan Valley is eased by what is now a tail gale. Darkness falls along here so lights on and finding the next bridleway is tricky. The "problem" is solved by blasting downhill through tussocks until I find the track. I'd thought when looking at the map that this was mainly downhill so I'm confused as to why there are three lights on the hillside above me. Then I work my way back on to the GPX line and it becomes clear: the downhill has a large bit of uphill in it. I've no idea of the time when I get to the road so it's just press on.

It's 2030 and I've made the pub in time for something to eat. "We've just turned the fryers off. We've had no-one in all night." "Soup?" "Can do that for you." There won't be anywhere else open until I get to the finish. Twelve hours to here. They've felt like hard won miles. Another couple of riders arrive seeking shelter from the storm. I'm there for thirty minutes. Things are calming down when I head out, in fact for a while there's stars in the sky.

A good mental attitude will get you a long way on the BB200. Enjoying your own company helps since in the latter parts of the route you will likely be on your own. Equally true is that you can spend a large part of the route with other riders. These tend to be chatty affairs given the likelihood of some rather large personal space in the not too distant future.

The track is doing the best approximation of a river that it can when my front wheel drops into a muddy pool and hits a hidden sloping rock and I'm eating rock. No damage done. Except for the flapper on the end of a finger. Blood drips down washed away by the rain. It takes an hour or so for the flow to stop. A second fall ten hours later bangs my knee which is still sore a day later. Oh, there's more blood.
 Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. My front wheel is making an odd but regular noise. I stop and check the brake rotor for debris but there's nothing obvious. Another spin of the wheel. Tap. Tap. Tap. Hmm. Then I notice the stick across the top of the tyre. I pull at it. It's attached to a thorn. There's a quick hiss and the sealant does its job. (I find another thorn once I get home) There's been a lot of hedge cutting and I've been lucky to get this far.

The BB200 is a curious beast, some call it an ITT, some a challenge. It can be both but at times it's as much an exploration of your psyche with the clinician's couch substituted by the mountains of Mid-Wales. A game of open air chess with a myriad conflicting aims and decisions: can you make it round? Have I enough food with me? Do I have time to get to the next shop? Do I stop at the cafe and cool down or push on?

2am and I'm sat under the market hall in Llanidloes. A couple walk past, they're the first people I've seen in three hours since I left the last couple of riders near Bwlch y Sarnau. I'm not sure that my light has enough juice to see me to the end so I've decided to sit a while and grab a bite whilst it's getting some charge. After fifteen minutes I'm starting to get cold so it's time to pack up and get moving again.

I'm trying hard to ignore the clunking noise from my left pedal (I think) hopefully that will fix it. I've ignored the creaking chain for a good seven hours now and that still works so the tactic seems a good one.

I do a bit of faffing about in Hafren Forest and one of the riders I pulled away from at Bwlch y Sarnau catches me up and we will ride to the finish together. One big climb through the forest then it's mostly downhill and a few small bumps to deal with. As we approach the last bridleway I can feel cramp coming on so we walk the last climb. With over twenty hours of riding done we are tired so the descent is steady then it's just 20 minutes of road and we pull in to the community centre car park. It's 0618, the first light of the new day is just visible.

┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄

So how did it compare to two years previously? In 2016 for the 205km I had a total time of 19hrs1min with 16hrs35mins riding. This year for 202km I had a total time of 21hrs20mins with a riding time of 19hrs35mins.

The Strava bit:


Two years ago 25+ riders, over a third of the field, went home with a black badge. This year there were just seven. Definitely harder, not a repeat of 2014, people even spoke to Stu afterwards, but hard.

Cath arrived back at the centre 29hrs30mins after setting off having ridden through without a bivy. Tough lass! She didn't look anywhere near as tired as two years ago.

"That" stream? My companion crosses it bike on shoulder so it's doable. My turn. The water comes to the top of my thighs and I'm struggling for purchase on the boulders then I'm over to the far bank. We wait for the rest of our loose group and help them across.

Of course on the drive home it was nice and sunny and I needed the sunglasses that I'd left at home by the back door.

This black badge was hard won.

The Heat of Darkness

Apologies to Joseph Konrad for the title ...

Some time ago Cath announced that she wanted to do the French Divide. Hmm. I had a look and thought that I didn't fancy dot-watching for two weeks so I'd try it as well. 2200km of mainly off-road riding from the top right corner of France to the bottom left. (Easier than trying to describe where the start and finish towns are). Limited to 150 entries, Cath was starting on the Saturday and myself on the Sunday as I'm normally a bit quicker than she is. Note the word "normally". There's no real time limit but the organisers hold a party at the finish two weeks after the start.

With getting to the start and the time to get back you actually need three weeks' holiday.

Each start has a registration and briefing on the day before so you need to be in the starting town of Bray Dunes for that. A ferry to Dunkirk then a late night ride to find the camp site full and we had to find another campsite a bit further out of town. Registration was all quite convivial with each rider introducing themselves and explaining where they were from, etc. Then it was final packing and something to eat.

I got myself some beer goggles

These bikes didn't make it.

The start was at sunrise, 0624! which I suppose is as good a time as any but you needed to be there 45mins earlier. So a very early alarm call. Cath headed off to get there in time while I sauntered along at my own pace.

The first few Km had a lead out car, a Citroen 2CV no less.

And then they were gone. In another 24hrs it would be my turn.

Sunday morning and another sunrise, the same procedure as yesterday. Shouts of "Allez! Allez!" and we are off. It's a hell of a pace, I'd be happy with it on an unladen road bike let alone an MTB with bivy gear and kit - I hit 50kmh at one point, on the flat on a mountain bike! The lead out car pulls away but the pace doesn't let up. There's no way I can keep this going so at the first dusty farm track I stop and take a shot.

It's the last I'll see of the fast riders. The rest of the day is spent flitting between the tail enders. The route weaves in and out of the French/Belgium border. Not a problem except that this is Sunday and as one lady at a "Surprise revito" (think trail angel with a van full of water and fruit) noted "La Dimanche? La Belge dorme!

At one of the few places we found open

It turned out that I'd ride nearly 150km before finding somewhere open that served anything more than a croissant. A McDonald's on the outskirts of Seclin. It's at this point it's worth noting that this was only the fourth time in my life that I've visited a McDonald's. Fast food? Quite how a pre-packed salad can take 20 minutes to prepare is beyond me. A good job I was the only person in the queue or being served. Also why does a salad need something deep fried in it?

Around this point we hit the pave sections used on the Paris-Roubaix race though we were doing them in the opposite direction. We didn't do all the secteurs but quite how you ride in a bunch, at speed, on a road bike along them is beyond me. I recognised a few of the corners as well as the Arenburg section with its cutting and bridge. There was a guy here with a "Allez le French Divide" board on his bike who'd ride alongside you then take shots.

Up to this point I'd been going quite well. Tucked up in my own little world following a track on the GPS screen. Then the heat turned up. While my speed in the morning was reasonable (though not the 35kmh+ of the start) as time went on I slowed and slowed. The last 20Km to the town of Le Quesnoy seemed to take forever. When I get there there's a fair on. I find the campsite and grab some food from one of the fair stalls and crash out only to be woken by a firework display. ah well.

239km, 1200m climbing, 13hrs moving, 3hrs faffing

Day 2

Up and away by about 0600, well before the campsite office is open so I shove my seven Euros under the door. If only I'd ridden another five kilometres I'd have had a nice quiet bivy in the woods. There's a lot of woods actually and for much of the day I don't see much or indeed anyone whether a rider on the event or not. A few deer cross the path in the early morning. Again as the day progresses the heat rises and my speed falls.

As evening approaches I get to a small town, Rocroi, the information sign shows 37C! No wonder I'm struggling. What follows next is an ace couple of km swooping through woods until a long drag up a fire road intervenes. I miss the next turning but pick it up and follow the quad bike track as it undulates along a slope. The GPS trace shows the next bit as turning sharp left. That's straight downhill! So it proved, over a kilometre of pretty steep track straight down the fall line of the slope. Great fun.

Then it's more pushing and at the top of the next hill I decide to skip the last little bit and head into town to the first checkpoint. There's a long easy climb to begin with though, less than 5% gradient but I have to walk it. My "reward" is a long downhill blast into town, getting all the lights on green. I'm just in time for food at the bar. My brevet card signed I head for the campsite.

166km, 2100m climbing, 13hrs moving, 2.5hrs faffing

Day 3

Up early again and I'm away pedalling steadily up slopes that yesterday afternoon would have seen me walking. I'm going well as I pass a fancy gateway to a big house. Common style I think, there was one like that yesterday. I look to the other side of the road to see a water storage facility and it hits me. It's the same house I saw yesterday evening! I've followed the route I should have taken into town last night but in reverse. Back the way I came (easily riding the climb I'd walked the night before) and start again. What I didn't know was that was just to be the start of my problems for the day.

Having lost two hours I pushed on. It was already getting hot. By 11am I was in need of food. Just off route lay a town, even better there was a big sign saying "Intermarche". Time for some resupplies. I sat in the shade of an old filling station forecourt roof eating my purchases and just getting hotter and hotter. Time to move on. The route lay along the flat bottom of a valley for a few km before turning off and heading up the valley side. Only a slope of 5% but I could only just walk it. That tree at the top's got my name on it. I lay there in the shade exhausted when I hear another rider approach. We sit there numb with the heat. Eventually we push on.

After a couple more hills where the above was repeated I'd had enough even though it was only mid-afternoon. Signs for the nearby town stated that it was home to "The European beer museum". Get somewhere to kip and recharge. Even coasting downhill at 50kmh I was getting hotter. The info sign in the main square stated it was 44C :shock: Even allowing for a couple of degrees inaccuracy, it was hot.

I found a B&B - first thing was to sit in a cool shower for 20mins to try and cool down. I went into town to get something to eat but everything was shut for various reasons. The family at the B&B took pity on me and fed me an evening meal while we chatted in broken Frenglish.

116km, 1300m climbing, 8.5hrs moving, 3hrs faffing

Day 4

Overnight there were thunderstorms, Cath got caught in these, by the morning the temperature had dropped but it was pretty humid in its place. A late start due to having breakfast at a reasonable hour. I meet another rider in the next town, he's scratching, I'm on my own again. I wasn't sure what I was going to make of today as it passed through the battlefields around Verdun. In the event I sobbed my way through the deserted villages, reflecting on how modern stupidity is taking us in the same direction. One village had ghostly life size images of the families who'd lived in each destroyed house another a simple stone marking the location of a home. The simple white crosses at the official memorial of men who died over an argument over a line on a map were similarly moving.

I arrived in Verdun too early for a proper evening meal so grabbed what I could and headed onward. I found a spot in a field overlooking a valley so settled down for the night. Or would have if half the local village hadn't used the nearby track for their evening walks and goodness knows what.

104km, 1900m climbing, 8.5hrs moving, 2.5hrs faffing

Day 5

Never quit at night, sleep on it and see how you feel in the morning. It was becoming increasingly apparent that the heat had got to me and I was managing less and less each day. With a fifteen day limit you need to be doing at least 150km a day and this first bit is the easy part. Mornings were fine, it was just the afternoon heat. Each day had been a battle. Decision made I headed back to Verdun.

Unbeknownst to me, Cath had been hit by thunderstorms on successive nights soaking all of her kit including her phone which subsequently had given up the ghost. She couldn't remember my mobile number, who remembers any number these days when the phone does it for you? The only number she could remember was her sisters so the campsite let her ring her sister who texted me what had happened. Eventually I managed to ring the site and speak to her. She was going to scratch as well. She'd got just beyond the next major town of Vitry le Francoise. We sorted out where to meet and let the organisers know our plans.

We'd still got nearly two weeks' holiday left so decided to do a bit of touring, after a bit of touristy stuff in Reims and Paris.

Take aways

• Don't start on the Sunday - everything's shut!
• Be prepared to ride fast
• The French have set hours for eating, get to towns for those times.

The Welsh Ride Thing

A bikepacking institution. The first bank holiday weekend in May sees a gaggle(? what's the collective noun for bikepackers?) of assorted shapes and sizes descend on a small farm in mid-Wales not for a rave but to have a chat about bikes and maybe ride them around the Welsh countryside aided or hindered by a set of grid references that people may or may not chose to visit. This year there was a set for mountain bikes and a set for "gravel" bikes.

This was its tenth year.

We'd never been.

Pubs

The Star at Dylife is becoming another institution, it reopened a couple of years ago and a pre-event meet up has started to become a "thing". Again, we'd never been. Cath was insistent that we didn't go in until 7pm but I overruled her and we had a meal before most people arrived and the chatting and drinking began. We didn't have too much to drink and crashed out in the tent at a sadly sensible middle-aged hour.

Despite having driven past it many times I'd never been in to The Cross Foxes above Dolgellau. Very posh. There were quite a few other BBers sat outside having a drink. Two drinks and two packets of crisps, that'll be ten pounds please sir. Hmm, come to think of it, it felt quite good to be standing there covered in sheep and cow muck adding to the general ambience for the benefit of the G&T swilling Jaguar driving crowd.

Oh, yeah. That's The Hand, you know the one with the massive carved tree trunk outside just in case you can't read. We went to the other one. Two pints of lager shandy and a couple of packets of crisps please. that'll be ten pounds please sir. Still we'd ridden over the Berwyns via the Wayfarers then down to Llanarmon Dyffryn Ceiriog. And it was hot. We decided on a second pint each but in an attempt to look after our waistlines and save money skipped the crisps.

Navigation

One thing you soon learn about Mid-Wales is that there's a disconnect between bridleways and tracks on the ground, it's as if they are from separate realities. Be especially aware of those lines on the map that look suspiciously straight. Wales doesn't do straight lines, not even the bits the Romans did for us, it's where they sent Slartibartfast's cousin to try and get the crinkly bits out of his system. Basically unless you've been on a particular stretch of bridleway/track you can't guarantee it will exist.

We spend/waste half an hour in Dyfi forest trying to find a non-existent bridleway. Actually the first two sections existed on the ground in roughly the right place, one bit being used by one of the Mach MTB trails, the last section was nowhere to be found. We ended up following a track out of the forest and going cross country to join up with where we should have been.

You might also find "identical" features parallel to those you are expecting: BW gate at bend in woodland fence for example, then force the rest of what's around you to fit. The problem here is that it will shortly put you smack bang in the middle of an hour's hike a bike and a marital screaming match discussion. In this instance not only did the parallel universe bridleway not exist but neither did the one in our own universe that we were meant to be on.

Kit and its malfunctions

With 150 riders (and bikes) there's a lot of potential for things to go wrong though turning up and asking if anyone has a spare chainring ... One of the "interesting" parts of the pre-ride milling about is the "weigh-in": bike and all your kit, food, rucksack, etc. goes on the scales. The weights ranged from a mighty 50kg or thereabouts down to a very impressive 14kg (my bike was 18kg so nowhere near the weight weenie prize of a pork pie)

On the way to Bala we come across a chap with his bike upside down and fixing a puncture. "Just went bang! and deflated."" A definite big hole in the inner tube that's lying on the deck. As he's inflating the replacement he notices a tear in the side wall of the tyre next to the rim - the cause apparent of the blowout. We offer various suggestions when I remember that I've an expedition sewing kit in my bag. I bought this in the mid 1980s and had never used it in all that time, I'd just thought I'd shove it in. Looking through the items there was some nylon thread so handed over a needle and some of that and he proceeded to stitch the tyre together. He managed to get to Bala where the bike shop eventually opened and he purchased a new tyre. Passing on the trail karma from the Dirty Reiver the other week.

At the cafe in Bala another rider, Craig, arrived with a rough bottom bracket. I'm not sure how he sorted that out - if indeed he did.

We'd just done an hour's hike-a-bike having lost the non-existent bridleway (see marital "discussion" above) when we rerouted from the next bit of non-existent bridleway and through a wind farm to get to the road. The rider ahead wasn't moving quickly, or at all as it happened. Broken saddle rail. I think he did a lot of standing up on the way back to the finish.

Forests

There's loads of 'em. I fekking hate 'em!

Bivvies

Being out for three days means two nights of sleeping under the stars. Route planning helps here as you want a variety of options depending on how fast you move and  on weather conditions. You don't want to get to your chosen spot too early in case someone sees you and asks questions but equally you don't want to be too late which makes setting up the tarp harder.

Saturday night we found a grand grassy balcony overlooking the Wnion valley with a temperature inversion filling the valley beneath us with mist. Our bivy bags have very slippery bases so finding somewhere flat is almost essential otherwise you end up somewhere you don't want to be! The mist did come in through the night but had gone by morning but there was huge amounts of condensation, the tarps were as wet as if it had been pouring down all night.

Sunday night was on the "shores" of Lake Vyrnwy, we'd been told of there being lots of bivy spots along the lake but they must be on the east shore whereas we went along the west shore so that we'd get the early morning sun. The main problem was that everything was at an angle of 45 degrees! By the time we found somewhere we'd ridden most of the way to the end of the lake. A bit of fussing and we ended up using the trunk of a fallen tree to stop us sliding down the slope! The second night couldn't have been more different to the first as everything was bone dry and just packed away.

Cafes

Our route didn't really pass any on the first day but an executive decision, i.e. we were hungry, took us in to Bala on Sunday morning for breakfast. The cafe didn't really do cooked stuff, well apart from bacon pancakes???

Monday morning we rolled along the road by Lake Vyrnwy to find a gaggle (still no collective noun for bikepackers) by a cafe near the dam. It wasn't serving food but the woman was filling water bottles which given the heat was welcome.

Over a couple or three hills and we rolled into Llangadfan. I spied a flag advertising ice cream but instead found a cafe. The owner must have wondered what had happened as about fifteen sweaty, grubby cyclists arrived in close order! Nice food though.

Oh and Cath got a Strava QOM on one climb, I think she's been doing some secret training. That's her going for it!

The Northumbrian

The Christmas to New Year period is an awkward time to take time off in the UK, the weather is rarely kind, but many including my wife have to take the non public holiday days as holiday so there's some pressure to make the most of it.

Last year we headed up to The Highlands and did a two day trip on our fat bikes around Loch Rannoch and Ben Alder which was rather damp with both rain and snow melt leading to very high burn levels. This year we wanted something a bit closer.

Philip Addyman had put together a route in and around Kielder Forest and along with Stuart Cowperthwaite had ridden it earlier this year. It looked a prime candidate with most of the route being on forestry tracks and just one tricky section along the English-Scottish border to Windy Gyle before dropping to Alwinton and heading back through the Otterburn firing ranges.

For once the weather looked fine so we packed the car and headed up to the start point in the small forestry workers hamlet of Stonehaugh. It was a bit later than planned before we'd got everything set up on the bikes and we headed into the woods.

Easy going on wide tracks.

A start time of 1430 meant that our target for the night, Spithope bothy, was always going to be reached in the dark. Slight problem: neither of us had been there before so hoped it was easy to find.

The sun was low in the sky from very early on in the ride

By the time we were looking down on Redesdale the light was fading.

While the riding was technically easy you couldn't really relax as the puddles in the track were all frozen and there were longer streaks of ice so you had to be on your guard all the time. We put on lights as we descended into Byrness and into more heavily wooded areas and the light faded to night. After a short section along the main road we cut up into the Spithope valley. After a false turn along a track we figured out where the bothy should be and headed further up the valley. There were footprints in the snow and at about the point where we'd figured the bothy should be they disappeared. Lights on full and we spotted the building on the other side of the valley. Fortunately there were steps and a bridge to get there.

I opened the door to find six already inside. Things might be a squeeze! There's bunks for six so two would have to kip on the floor. After food and drink and much banter - "Do you want more turkey?" we put the table and chairs outside to make room and kipped down for the night.

Leaving Spithope bothy in the morning

With morning light everyone rose and after breakfast and packing it was time to reverse the path to the main track. This led ever upward to a sharp bend when the line on the GPS headed off into what might best be described as "rough". Snow covered thigh high vegetation hid the line of whatever path was on the ground. There were also hidden becks and drainage ditches, the bikes picked up water and snow and required regular cleaning to avoid the wheels becoming stuck.

The hike-a-bike out of The Hart's Toe

Finally we emerged onto open ground and a (hopefully) final cleaning of the bikes and it was time to pick up some speed. Except conditions dictated otherwise. I'd hoped that the ground was frozen and wind had shifted any snow. It was just the opposite! There'd been little wind and the deep snow had insulated the ground so there was still bog underneath. Progress was slow.

Cleaning mud, ice and snow off the bikes.

Hard going along the border between England and Scotland

Eventually we reached a signpost: Pennine way along the ridge and alternative Pennine Way down the valley. We'd taken two hours for the last two kilometres, we'd no time to do the next ten Kilometres to Windy Gyle. We headed down the valley. Some bits we could ride but even heading downhill was hard work and needed pedalling. Once past the Roman fortification works at Chew Green we hit the road. This wasn't much easier, irregular patches of sheet ice meant things took much longer than we'd have liked.

The sheep had paddled down the snow so we could ride sections.

An artistic farmer at work!

Eventually we got to Alwinton. Philip and Stu had lucked out here as both the pub here and in the next village of Harbottle weren't doing food. Today they were and we were hungry! Sometimes an hour not moving forward can be an hour well spent and we tucked in.

The sun was still shining when we left. A bit more road then a turn right and we headed upwards once again through Harbottle Woods. Forestry work meant a diversion but it only meant that we debouched onto the road on the firing ranges a little higher than would have been the case.

In the shadows of giants

Leaving Harbottle forest and entering the firing ranges.

The ranges are wide open spaces.

The roads were frustrating. Vehicles had compacted snow and there were yet more random sheets of ice. This meant slow progress, downhill was often slower than the uphills. We reached the final junction and could head back down into Redesdale just as the light began to fade. At this point we were just 2Km from the bothy we'd stopped at the night before.

Wide open spaces on the Otterburn firing ranges.

Icy roads slowed progress

All day the temperatures had been below freezing but now it was getting seriously cold. At least we had the forest drive to look forward to, a long climb to Blakehope Nick warmed us up though I'd been in my lowest gear for much of the climb. The descent to Kielder cooled us down again. By the time we got to The Anglers Arms in Kielder it was -7C and with us feeling tired it cut to the quick.

Our target was KershopeHead bothy a further 25Km ahead but I didn't think we'd get there so asked at the pub if they'd any accommodation. Unfortunately they were full but the owner did offer an unheated caravan. A search showed one B&B in the village and they had a room! It would have to do. We headed over after having had something to eat. Warmth and a bed. bliss!

The morning brought a change in the weather. No longer clear skies but leaden clouds heavy with snow which had already deposited 5cm and was adding to it with every passing hour. A second decision - we'd follow the Lakeside Trail back to the dam and then return via our outward route. At least we knew it rather than the circuitous line we would have taken on the actual route.

Heavy snowfall on the Lakeside Trail around Kielder

The Lakeside Trail was hard work in the deep snow. The 20Km to the dam took over two hours for a nearly flat trail. The one oddity was a car on the trail, quite how it had got there was a bit of a mystery but there were several blokes in the process of trying to get it out. We'd now just the simple matter of climbing back over the hills to Stonehaugh.

As the snow fall stopped it led to pretty views.

A bit different from two days earlier.

Progress was slow, we tried to find the thinnest snow cover under the trees but even so we were working hard. The selfie below was taken at the top of the biggest climb. Temperatures were rising and the snow was getting a little thinner. Occasionally there'd be vehicle tracks so the best line was in these as the snow was nice and compact.

More snow build up on the bikes.

Selfie at the top of the big climb up from Kielder Dam.

Eventually, just over 48hrs after leaving we rolled back in to the car park.

Back at the car.

So we didn't manage to complete the route but we had a good if hard time out. The route's quite varied and despite much of it being in forest it's actually quite open as the areas to at least one side of the tracks have been felled. I can't comment on the border ridge section (we've done Clennel Street down to Alwinton many years ago and that's straightforward). You also need to ensure that the firing ranges are shut before attempting the route.

It's definitely worth having a go at the route though mid-winter might not be the best time of year! That said, a good frost without much snow and I think it would be a goer. Looking on a map it appears that you aren't too far from "civilisation" but when you are on it it does feel pretty remote especially on the firing ranges.

A good use of a good weather window.

Here's the Strava bit ...