Scotland was indeed bonny..

.. and while rain was sweeping the south, we were bathed in Scottish Sunshine. This is not the same as English sunshine as the Sun is rather shy and hides behind the clouds and often a short sharp shower reminds you that venturing out without a waterproof is an act of extreme foolhardiness. As was falling off on the second day while riding a knarly flat bit of trail. With perfect precision I ripped open the same elbow that had recently acquired a thin layer of scar tissue after the previous unplanned al/flint interface.

Luckily my riding buddies lashed me back together and through the medicinal power of alcohol I was able to stoically continue if at a slightly reduced pace. And with significantly more pain every time a bump was encountered which when you’re riding mountain bikes in Scotland is about every second. Fortunately I had sufficient body armour to protect a small frightened elephant against a nuclear attack, less fortunately, I’d left most of it in the car when gravity came calling.

While carefully wheeling the bike into our rather splendid accommodation, my bleeding and brooding elbow was perfectly positioned to slam into the door jam. For a while afterwards, I lay on the floor and tried to find my happy place. This proved to be in the pub opposite which sold painkillers under the name of “Shag-Nasties Bottom Biter” or whatever the local ale was called.

Here’s a picture taken by a friend who has kindly cut my head off. That was one course of action I was considering after impaling an open wound on the mortice lock.


Those knee pads saw some action on the last day when I fell off twice within half a mile. The first in front of a ghoulish audience who applauded loudly my ham fisted attempt to navigate a rock garden (“plants” including spikey flint, hard edged boulder and nervous perennial). When I say applauded, of course I mean after I’d dispensed with the services of the bike and rock surfed to a grinding halt balanced precariously on, what I’m euphemistically referring to as, “the fruit basket“.

In a huff, I remounted the trusty steed and pedalled off without a backward glance. God knows where I was looking tho because a minute later, the whole sky and ground thing inverted and yet again the mean trail searched out uninjured limbs to bruise. Essentially I am now considering renting myself out as mobile scar tissue.

Still it was a fantastic week’s riding even if Easyjet provided me with no confidence in their ability to find a plane to take me home. Instead I hitched a lift in a mate’s camper van whose top speed would not trouble any form of speed camera but this was more than made up for in it’s fixtures and fittings. Nice cup of tea on the move, fridge with cold beer in it and enough space to get some decent kip. Probably should make it clear, I wasn’t doing the driving.

Back on the commuting bike tomorrow. Hopefully no one will try and kill me, it really isn’t necessary considering my recent policy of self harm 😉

9 thoughts on “Scotland was indeed bonny..

  1. Mark

    Dont give blood. You cant afford it.

    What you doing next weekend? Fancy a ride up Malvern way? You know where to look.

  2. Alex

    I shall find an appropriate pic later to prove that the Sun does indeed rise North of the border.

    Mark – after inaugarating myself into the order of the mong, I probably won’t be riding MTB’s for a couple of weeks plus I’ve been away rather alot lately and the kids seemed to have grown a couple of inches since I last spent time with them so better not 😉

  3. Just one quezzie, was that boulder at Kirroughtree???? I only recently conquered my fear of this large stone. to be fair, the first time I rode it there was a huge blood soaked wound dressing right next it. It put me off a tad.

  4. Alex

    Yeah that was the one. It was wet and my first ride back after the mega-mong of flinty pain. Rode up to it a bit slowly, had to stand up and get on the gas so by the time I was atop the boulder my weight was all over the front of the bike.

    At that point I noticed how steeply it dropped off onto the other side.

    Saved by big forks from going over the bars.

    I could see how a previous victim’s leftover body fluids could curb your enthusiasm.

  5. Lol, it is “bigger than it looks” aint it. I could never quite airbrush that image from my stupidy active imagination. It take it you where with Mr (name excluded for obvious reasons) Kiwi bloke with an enduro’s party???

  6. Alex

    I was indeed. He was riding very well indeed although that many sheep in a single area got him a little excited. He didn’t even properly fall off either but I “took one for the team” for both of us 😉

  7. LOl, good stuff. I would have been there as I got an invite from himself but was going on holiday that friday and for some reason the lady wanted 100{45ac9c3234d371044e23e276755ef3a4dde8f1068375defba7d385ca3cd4deb2} committment to our non biking plans. Women.

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