Andrew’s Ampler Challenge ride

I’d always intended to start early today,  partly because i wanted to catch the sunrise,  but also because I knew with a long distance to cover including a trip to Holy Island,  I’d have to factor in a fair bit of cycling and photography time. 
It’s poignant that this trip combined a bike ride with an emotional journey that’s so much about dealing with my past and today would have marked my 22nd wedding anniversary. 

But the wheel of life keeps turning and breakfast,  as promised,  was awful,  so we’ll move on. 

No sooner had i set off than I started having intrusive thoughts about how much energy I might be wasting in running slightly low tyre pressure.

The Continental GP 4 seasons fitted as standard on the bike had lived up to their promise of puncture resistance.  Despite covering nearly 900km at this point; a mixture of gravel,  tarmac,  ploughed field,  towpath and general undergrowth had all proven to be no match for the tyres and I’d not suffered even a single puncture. They’d been so astounding to the point I’d never even checked pressures. 

So,  less than 1km on,  I stopped to add a short blast of air to ensure every minimal gain was exploited. 

Bad idea:   The CO2 pump I was using is a brilliant invention,  providing almost instant pressure with virtually no effort.  It screws on to the valve, you turn a little lever and that’s it,  normally. I did my front tyre first,  and it worked brilliantly,  until I came to unscrew the pump and found it had frozen to the valve,  hence when I unscrewed it,  the whole valve came away too, instantly and completely deflating my tyre. It took me a full ten minutes to repair it and then reinflate, following which I didn’t have the guts to attempt the rear,  which of course would have made the biggest difference,  that being where all the weight was being carried. 

I trundled on,  out of Dunbar, past the concrete works and on towards the power station alongside the east coast mainline.  That last sentence would suggest a barren industrial wasteland,  but quite the opposite was true,  with my experiencing some of the most breathtaking coastline and unspoilt scenery I’ve ever had the pleasure to ride through. 

I reached Eyemouth in excellent time,  knowing that the English border was literally just a stone’s throw further South. 

The climb to the border was unexpected and longer than I’d imagined,  but upon reaching the sign,  I found myself overwhelmed.  Weirdly so in fact,  as I’m not particularly patriotic,  nor sentimental.. but all of a sudden I was watery eyed and felt a major sense of relief.  I’d all but done what I’d set out to do,  but even by the end of day one was beginning to doubt my ability.  It wasn’t the England sign so much,  but Northumberland has and always will have a special place in my heart.  It’s where I call home and where I feel at home.  Northumberland is a truly beautiful county. 

I’m biased for sure,  but more than certainly right. It also brought me closer to home and closer to familiar surroundings of my longer rides.  I knew once I got to Holy Island,  then the rest of the journey was doable.. because I’d done it before (albeit on a faster and lighter roadbike, but nevertheless it gave me confidence)Berwick was a breath of fresh air and my first stop of the day.  I went to the Maltings for a late breakfast,  to compensate for the abysmal start. It felt a bit weird when I kept getting odd glances and smirks from strangers but let it go,  just reassuring myself it must be my imagination.  Only when I went past a mirror did I realise that the attention I was getting was likely down to my attire, which to be fair was a little out of place in Berwick upon Tweed.  For those in the know,  POC clothing produce some of the finest and most impressive sports and safety clothing in the world.  Coming from a snowboarding and other ‘gravity sports’ arena,  they now produce a very fine range of cycling equipment,  which i was lucky enough to receive as a support to my challenge.  Mostly,  for obvious reasons,  I’d worn the raincoat,  which had been astoundingly good.  But I’d never had a chance to wear the highly reflective silver body warmer until today.  Matched ungracefully to my bright yellow cycling Jersey and my sunburnt arms and legs,  I’d topped the whole look off with some flamboyant red socks. 

Like some manic spaceage dandy, I’d paraded through the characteristically grey streets of Berwick early on a bank holiday morning and doubtless will have raised a few eyebrows and turned a few stomachs. The trip along the cliff tops from Berwick to Beal,  was breathtaking.  The sun was by now intense and the sea was almost Mediterranean in turquoise appeal.  It’s not often you can say the North sea looked good enough to swim in. 

The national cycle route along this route is breathtaking,  but in reality only suitable for mountain bikes or cyclocross. My pannier laden commuter based Curt looked a little out of place on the open moorland and deeply grooved fields,  but it valiantly forged on,  never really protesting at all,  save for the occasional grounding in the deepest ruts. Rejoining the road at Beal, it was only a short ride to the causeway and onwards to Holy Island.  I’d timed the tide perfectly and made my way towards the final real stop before home.  

Reaching the priory was,  in truth,  a non event.  The Island was jam packed with people enjoying the fine weather of the late summer bank holiday.  I took a few snaps and left almost as quickly as I’d arrived. Emma and Isaac (and Archie Dog of course) met me at the barn at Beal and there we stayed for coffee, chips and a charge up. Having not seen Zac for a week,  it was great to see him.  
Setting off for Bamburgh, I felt confident and flew past the Castle,  through Seahouses and down the coastal route.  This is the route of the annual Great North Bike Ride, which I’d sadly missed by a day.  On to Beadnell and then Alnmouth I noticed the volume of traffic steadily increasing and rapidly coming to a standstill.  This, is bike territory (not usually Warkworth and my thoughts go to those involved in the A1 crash for a full and speedy recovery) and I started to appreciate the Ampler more and more as I made rapid progress passing literally hundreds of cars on the run in to the village.  Emma and Zac didn’t look too impressed as I also sailed past them.  They’d left me North of Berwick a few hours earlier! 
I stopped briefly at the castle.. to take some more photographs. 

E&Z assumed it was just to taunt them,  but it really wasn’t. 
Amble, Druridge, Widdrington, Ulgham, Longhirst and Pegswood passed in a flash and then it was all but done.  Riding into Morpeth was a strange experience.  Nothing startling,  just a weird sense of calm and reassuring familiarity. I’d done it. . All but 1000km in a week.  I’m sunburnt, my Achilles is sore and my sunburn,  not a problem in the cooling breeze of a bike ride is suddenly making its presence felt.  I came back on Monday, quite sure that for all I’d found the trip rewarding I’d never bikepack again.  Then Tuesday I woke up already pondering my next trip.  I’d certainly make some changes.. and the reality is I’d probably choose to do a little less distance in a little more time. Getting out on a bike is a fantastic way to stay fit,  healthy and relaxed.  There’s no better way to blow away the cobwebs and to put the world right in your head.  You dont need to go far,  don’t need to go fast,  but time on a bike is never time wasted.  I’ve got all but 50 years experience to validate those statements and urge people to give it a go. 

The development of lightweight e-bikes are a far cry from the early electric assisted monstrosities that could manage 20 miles or so before running out of juice and proving impossible to turn another revolution. They extend the range and comfort of an average commute and seriously allow a person to consider cycling to work every day without becoming a social pariah of lycra and body odour.

I’m indebted to Ampler bikes for giving me the opportunity to do this challenge.  I recognise my bias,  but these bikes are superb.  

So that’s it for now. Hope you’ve enjoyed sharing this journey with me. It’s been fun.. Mostly . 🙂

Today got off to a really pleasant start.  I had an awesome breakfast,  after an amazing night’s sleep in Ineshewan farmhouse.  This has to have been the darkest,  quietest place I’ve ever slept.  What’s more,  it was meticulously cleaned and beautifully set up for guests. Riding out as planned at precisely 8am, the sun was already burning through the low lying mists and I felt positive.  Then about 5 miles in,  I remembered the hills ahead,  the pain in my leg and the torturous prospect of another 12 or so hours of watching the road go by. 

I needn’t have been so negative however,  as despite the hills,  there were some contrasting and at times exhilarating downhill plummets made all the more appealing by the dry roads and the spectacular views.  

The West of Scotland is impossibly beautiful and today I was seeing it at its finest. I made excellent time through Callander and on to Stirling where I’d planned my first stop.  Stirling YHA has one of the most prestigious driveways I’ve ever seen. Equally pleasant was the reception and the opportunity to charge whilst I baked in the sun. It was hard to imagine this as the same grey, wind battered outpost I’d ridden through on Wednesday. 
Having met Emma and Archie, who’d incredibly driven back up north just to offer support,  we decided to adjust the route slightly and stop by the Kelpies at Falkirk. Really pleased I did too.. they were pretty awesome and provided a fine backdrop to the prerequisite photo ops for the Ampler team. 

Got some strange looks whilst posing my bike for pictures in a variety of very similar locations.  If there’s one thing I’ve learned from Priit, it’s that you really can’t afford to be economical with your shots, that way you increase your chances of the perfect angle, perfect light, perfect expression etc.Anyhow,  the detour meant two things: 
Choosing a different route meant I’d now avoid the centre of Edinburgh,  which had good and bad points, but on balance, if I’d chosen to go back to my original route would have increased my overall distance by about another 24 miles.  Frankly, i just didn’t have it in me to countenance this, so chose a slightly more southerly path which until the run into Dunbar was a bit unremarkable after the drama of the west coast. The view from my hotel room was stunning.

That,  and the pie for dinner made the end of this day almost as good as the start.  No drama, no rain and mostly I felt that the pain in my ankle was easing a bit.  Maybe it was the flatter terrain, or perhaps the initial swelling of the first few days was beginning to ease. Mostly however,  my evening was made all the more pleasant by the prospect of tomorrow being my last day,  in which I’d cross the border and head down the Northumberland coastline.  I knew there was a fair distance to still go,  but also knew that the closer to home I got,  the more of my usual cycling territory I’d be in.  That gave me the confidence to begin finally to really believe that what I’d set out to do,  might actually be possible. I of course found myself tearing up again at this notion..  not really sure why as I was unaware of any ‘hot thoughts’ to capture. Just a non-verbal welling up of emotion built of pride, relief, a sense of achievement and of course the realisation that it had now been a full five days since I’d felt any sensation in most of my right hand. 
I planned an early start for my final day,  so would have to make do with a banana for breakfast as the overworked and slightly tense hotel staff appeared less than flexible to any packed breakfast requests. The hotel.. I’m guessing was once a grand place to be,  with its finest gold plated bath fittings and prestigious views. Sadly,  it’s not fared well in the 50 or so years since it’s last refurb. Apart from the dubiously tasteless hot tubs now available on the ground floor rooms overlooking said awesome view, nothing appears to have changed in this hotel for decades.  There was a sorrow pervading from the walls of this place,  seemingly from decades of bearing witness to tawdry liasons and corporate nefariousness.
The view was simply stunning however and I did capture some pictures,  until it occurred to me that whilst leaning out of my sea view window, snapping away on my camera, I’d drawn the attention of the elderly German couple ‘enjoying’ the hot tub and presumably thinking I was some kind of weird lycra clad peeping Tom.   I shut the window and went to bed. 

Highlight of the day:  There were many,  but none moreso than seeing Emma and Archie. These guys are awesome having driven home yesterday,  only to turn around and head back up North to offer much needed moral support. 

Low Point of the day: The hotel.

Bike has been impeccable as ever and moreso on the flat.  It’s well out of its comfort zone in remote Scotland, but has battled on despite my best efforts to break it. 

Today started with a quick dash to the ferry to catch the 8:40 crossing. 

All went with military precision of course and the boat trip was calm,  with the promise of a fine day ahead.  We met Priit and Melissa from Ampler, deciding that they wanted to redo a couple of shots.  Please never underestimate the time it takes to video a split second gear change!
We then lumbered the bike, complete with panniers, cameras and ourselves across a safety barrier and down some jagged rocks,  much to the bemusement of some seagulls minding their own business and a handful of fishermen on the shoreline.  All this for the perfect shot.. the life of a supermodelhero .. tssk, tell me about it 😱.
Then,  quite suddenly, everyone disappeared and I felt immediately a bit isolated, very homesick and a little worried about the journey ahead.  I’m not one for shying away from a challenge,  but my hand has now been numb for 4 days and my Achilles is shot. Physically,  I’m fine.  Mentally I’m good too, but these two fairly minor (in isolation) niggles would be of little consequence on a normal day.  But left alone in Oban, with two days and hundreds of miles left to go,  I was a bit teary.. this time with no rain to hide it. 
I set off, bike now creaking for mercy due to lack of oil (bloody rain) and ankle protesting with every turn of the pedal.

But as time went on and the endorphins masked the pain a bit, I did find myself enjoying the ride more than anticipated.  I stopped off for a Curly Wurly and some water at Airds Bay (livin’ the dream), which was an arse to open having no sensation in my hands,  but the chocolatey nectar was worth the struggle. 

I recharged myself and the bike at the Green Welly Stop in Tyndrum and then completed the final 10miles or so in ‘turbo mode’. Sheer heaven!
Need I even mention the hills were an utter pig, but towards the end of the day I was reassured that things were getting flatter. 

For those that want to know more about Amplerbikes.. they really are the best.  From three enthusiastic cyclists in Estonia, they’ve created a brand that has grown enormously in scale and in reputation in only a few years and they offer a unique take on the market.  Their bikes are classy, understated, beautifully put together by people who understand cycling and started this as a hobby. The one I use is an Ampler Curt. Designed as a fast commuter bike,  it’s not really designed for huge distances,  being nimble and responsive at the cost of some comfort.  It has more than met my expectations,  but being entirely realistic, if you’re serious about bikepacking, then you’d be better in my opinion getting a lightweight touring road bike.  The Curt is close,  but 50 or 60 miles is about all you could plan for in a day.  I spent most of yesterday without any power assist and it’s doable, but slow,  averaging about 12mph, rather than my usual 18 or so. Charging is very easy, using a standard wall socket, but takes upwards of 90mins, so you need to factor in the time for stops. All things considered,  it certainly helps motivate people to get out for short trips in the confidence they can tackle hills.  In that respect,  it hits the market perfectly in opening up the joy and health benefits of cycling to all.  But for longer journeys, particularly with wind, rain and hills the present tech still has a little way to go. 
Ampler wanted to offer the ultimate test ride and hopefully that’s what I’ve given them, but right now both the bike and I are showing our limitations. 

I’m staying at a working highland cattle farm this evening.  It’s the cleanest place I’ve stayed so far and the owner (Shona) is the best.  She’s kindly given me a lift to the nearest pub where I’m tucking in to a delicious meal and a surprisingly palatable Caledonian best bitter. I’ll be walking back soon, under the dark skies. It’s not far (couple of miles), then off to sleep as I’ve got a long trek on my second last day, heading to Dunbar. Given what I’ve said about average speeds and busted ankles, I think it looks set to be a long day.  But the forecast looks great 🙂

Today was always going to be a new experience for me. Those that know me,  realise I’m not really one for hogging the limelight, so maybe I should have thought more about the implications of the prize winning telephone conversation that included ‘we will film you for some of the trip’.Expecting a few sketchy youtube clips was something I’d felt I could cope with, perhaps hoping the images would be blurry enough as to deny my fame. So when Priit (the photographer/cinematographer) turned up with a suitcase full of lenses, the most impressive camera setup I’ve ever seen, a professional drone camera and the most amazing robotic stabilising tripod thing I was deeply impressed and intimidated in equal measure.  We shot loads of footage on Iona before heading back via the ferry to Fionnphort on Mull.
The next 9 hours were a blast. A mixture of being chased by drone,  video’d from in front and behind the moving car and photographed with every lens known to man.My most vivid flashback has to be hurtling down a single track road at 30mph, literally inches off the back of the car, in touching distance of Priit precariously leaning himself and priceless camera gear out of the tailgate and telling me to smile.. 🙂  I’m not sure if it will make it to the final video,  but believe me my friends, there’s a thin line between smile and grin with fear. 
I was a bit alarmed at the extreme face close up shots and the moody ‘looking out to sea’ poses. Equally perturbed at what I may have said during the interviews,  which were repeated so many times I’ve no idea which version will make a public spectacle of me. 
What I will say though,  is it was an extremely memorable experience.  Priit is a perfectionist and a superb artist.  Working on various big projects (fashion contracts , Disney, Marvel), his reputation was first elevated in snow boarding and winter sports.  All of which begs the question,  am I a fashion model, superhero film star or an extreme sports sensation?. Actually,  I’m rather hoping to just be a quiet bloke from Morpeth by this time next week. 
Today was allegedly a much shorter day,  but repeating shots meant I still travelled a fair distance today.  I definitely feel I’ve deserved the luxuries of a nice hotel tonight.  I also have the early Ferry from Craignure back to Oban in the morning to catch,  then a bit more filming,  just to be sure we have enough footage.   I reckon there’ll be more than ten hours worth of pictures and video to go through,  which it’s planned will create no more than 2 minutes of post production viewing.  I sort of can’t wait,  but I’m quite nervous too.
Bike has once again been totally fine.  Being an urban commuting bike,  this challenge really is pushing both me and the Ampler out of our comfort zones a bit. The bike is filthy and will need a decent service once home.  I’m already making plans for some adjustments.  New bars (possibly drop bars) or at least some comfier grips and bar ends. Along with that,  I’m looking into replacing the front chainring with a larger size as I’ve spun out of gears a few times in the last day or so.  All in good time though. 
I’m also feeling the effects of the ride, including a hand that’s been numb since day 2 and an Achilles tendon that’s beginning to rub a lot and create intense pain sometimes. 
So time for a decent sleep.. night .

  
Enjoyed 2 Ferry trips and a shortish (3hrs) but strenuous ride to Iona. Need I even mention it’s been raining again 😧. Bike faring very well,  but my body less so today. 

This is my third visit to Iona. The first was on my honeymoon in 1997. We had no plans,  no major expectations and no worries.  We sort of stumbled across Iona after we could drive no further. Roll on late 2009 and Paula and I, together with our two very young boys made a return trip in altogether more sombre times.  Paula had been given months to live and a truly impossible decision to make. Either do nothing except live well and wait for fate to run its course, or accept treatment,  which ‘might’ have prolonged life,  but at tremendous cost to her wellbeing in whatever time we had left.  Remembering Iona to be a truly peaceful place and one filled with happy memories,  we felt a need to come again.  We both felt humbled by the tiny island,  owing much to the isolation and also to the history. If you’ve never been before,  put it on your bucket list please, i urge you.  It was here that we chose to let nature take its course and do everything we could to make whatever time we had left together to appreciate life and make happy memories, but not cling on expecting medicine to have a solution; believe me it didn’t.  It’s true to say that nobody really knows how long they have left, but it takes a situation like that which we faced to make a person sit up and take notice.  Iona is filled with reminders of impermanence but also filled with the reassuring notion that life goes on.. in stories,  memories and in attitudes and beliefs passed down through centuries. 

After her death in 2011, I’d always wanted to come back to Iona again.  I’d set a goal for myself to help the boys reach adulthood, then come back here under my own steam,  partly to reassure myself that life does indeed go on..  and partly to say my goodbyes to that vain hope attached to the naivety of my younger self. Life is most certainly not fair,  nor pretty,  nor is it permanent. That sounds truly desperate,  but I’m not.  It’s part of grieving, which involves letting go not of memories,  but only of those things which nail us to the past.  

Today’s ride was brutal,  but I’m sort of not sorry for that.  Battling through the rain and up what seemed like impossibly steep hills was a clear analogy for how things have been.  It’s a good reminder too, that we all face our troubles and our tragic personal stories.  It’s important that we recognise that in others and just sometimes acknowledge however subjective their personal battles are,  they’re fighting them on their own.  Loads of people have said well done for my ride today, My third journey to Iona actually started not today, but more than 8 years ago and it’s been pretty tough.. tears were shed, although thankfully nobody could tell through the driving rain! 

Here I am today,  pushing on with my own little journey and recognising that’s what we all do.  So please do try a little harder to recognise the effort we’re all putting in to just being.  Take time to appreciate the mundane pleasures in life and lastly,  to recognise we’re here to make memories, for ourselves sure; but for others,  definitely. Because that’s what makes life go on. 

Which brings me metaphorically and literally back to Iona.. In the Celtic tradition, the is a belief that in some places the veil that separates the eternal from the temporal grows thin and becomes permeable, so that in such places, the things of heaven are felt and experienced with greater clarity. These places are called “thin places,” and Iona is one such place.

Here in my little camping Pod tonight,  it’s also apparent that the veil between warm and dry vs hypothermia is equally true.  It’s howling a gale out there and I’ve got an early date with Ampler’s videographer Pritt and the lovely Melissa who has organised this whole challenge for Ampler.  Do drones even fly in a gale? I suspect not. 

As its a thin place,  I’ll leave the final words of the day courtesy of one of Paula’s favourite songs- 

You take a walk
I’m by your side
Take my life, I’ll give you mine
You, you give me something
To cry about

You’re in my heart
I’m in your hand
You drop me off
I miss you and you
You give me something to cry about

Oh, in a pinch you listen to me
You are any scene wants to see
To see
There will be a timed disaster
There’s no you in my hereafter

I still feel for you after you go
You, you know better than to cry Cry about

You’re in my heart
I’m in your hand
You drop me off
I miss you and, oh you
You give me something

Oh, this is your art
This is you and
You pick up your cross
Strike up the band

I still fall for you after you go
And you, you know better than to cry
Cry about

Another tough day with some real highs and intermittent despair, mainly due to the rain.

Much of my day was spent riding the national cycle network, first on route 754 to Falkirk, taking in the Avon Aqueduct and following the path of the Union canal. I then joined route 76, taking me through Stirling. There’s some beautiful scenery along that route, with the advantage of avoiding traffic ( and people generally) but at the cost of riding my fully laden Ampler Curt across a ploughed field at one point.. truth be told, I may have got lost 🙄.

Arriving in Callander, I was able to grab a charge at the Bridge end hostel and promptly fell asleep. It was extremely quiet there as they are presently undergoing a refurb of the cafe. This made their hospitality even more appreciated.

Having had some delicious carrot and ginger soup and a decent coffee, I returned to the hostel to be welcomed by Emma and Archie who had made the extra trip from Tyndrum to lend some moral support. The advantage of this was they also offered to carry my bags for me over the next leg to Tyndrum and the Green Welly stop.

The next 35 miles were a mix of bliss at the weight reduction and stress at the realisation that not only had Emma kindly gone ahead with my bags, but also my phone, my emergency repair kit and any spare clothing!

Of course, the weather gods used this to their advantage by saturating me in the worst rain I’ve ever experienced. What that trip gained in speed, it definitely lost in rain soaked despair. The pizza at Tyndrum was just reward. Did that portion of the ride in about 2 hours, rather than the anticipated 3.5.

The final leg of the day to Connel was similarly wet. It is alleged that the scenery is breathtaking, but I could barely see it. In typical fashion, it stopped raining almost as soon as I got to the guest house and I finally got to see some of what makes this place so special.

Had a good sleep, and raring to go. A shorter third day, heading over to Mull and finally on to Iona, this being my ultimate destination.

High points: Avon Aqueduct. I saw an Eagle. Emma turning up at Callander to carry my bags.

Low points. Realisation that in my haste to offload panniers I’d left myself with no phone and no repair kit.

Bike has been spot on again. Charge lasted far longer without the weight of those damn panniers.

Right, I’ve a ferry to catch !