RSS FeedsNorthern Excursions. The Highland Adventure May 2006. Day 6.
by Andy on Friday, May 19th, 2006We gathered our stuff together fairly promptly that morning eager to complete the last leg to Fort William. I did a few minor tweaks to the bike, mended a puncture and gave it a clean at the river. Then I strapped the kit to it again with duct tape and was ready to go. I took one last look around inside to make sure we hadn’t left anything and put the fire out. Then we were off again.
We left the bothy at one in the afternoon which was later than we had hoped but we were energised and willing to push on, confident about making the relatively short distance on easier terrain to our next destination. Compared to the end of the day yesterday I felt like completely revitalised which is a testament to the human body’s natural ability to regenerate. When I had worked in Croatia mountain bike guiding in the summer of 2005, the riding had caused me to develop some lower back pains. I considered at the time, that I could be doing damage to myself and did feel somewhat worried. However, after I became accustomed to the stress my body adapted and I have had no sustained symptoms since.
We made our way back up the fireroad towards the first hut we’d seen. The sun broke through the cloud and the rays of sun felt good on my skin contrasting and offering respite from the chilly atmosphere. We made good progress and back where we had originally crossed over the marshland at the end of the Loch we instead continued straight on along the track which turned into paved road. We were of jovial spirit, bantering with each other, cracking jokes and observing the peaceful surroundings. I chatted to Mark about his interest in unicycles. I had on previous consideration of an off-road unicycle thought it may be interesting to create an “on-the-fly” adjustable freehub which could switch between a normal fixed and free wheel. This would enable faster descending speeds and the ability to ride over more adverse terrain with level pedals rather than continually pedalling. However, Mark suggested, and I suspected that one wouldn’t be able to balance or at least it would be very difficult because the fixed wheel contributes to balancing on a unicycle. A potential project for future investigation.
As we pedalled along, I could see an impressive stately home through the trees at the end of a long drive and wondered whether it was the landowner’s. I felt a sense of an old feudal system with the common people paying rent to the Lord. The road joined the Great Glen Way on a wide purpose-built singletrack running next to the end of Loch Ness. We followed this, relishing the fast, grippy surface until it reached another road. Following this road for a minute or two we turned off onto the Caledonian Canal Tow Path. This was the final section of riding taking us into Fort William. However, this last bit because of the flat surface was quite boring made it challenging. My backside was as sore as a wood cutter, I swear the temperature had dropped to sub-zero conditions and Mark and Tom insisted on riding really fast. A redeeming feature of the canal path were some great views. As we approached Fort William the Ben Nevis mountain range was visible through menacing looking clouds. We had intended on climbing it, and would do if we had time, but it looked unlikely. We reached the outskirts of the suburban outer-reaches of Fort William. The place itself was much bigger than I expected and it sprawled over a considerable area. It covered the flat land at the foot of the mountain range. One could see the chair lifts up the mountain from where we were and back into the countryside from where we had just come. We cycled into the centre of the town. It was manic riding on the road compared to being isolation for a while. I suddenly found I needed to have my wits about me. The constant feeling of being on guard of being in an urban area. We cycled into the centre of town, dodging traffic in our motley state. I trudged into the tourist information centre, caked in mud and asked for some leaflets on accommodation. Surprisingly I barely got a reaction out of the attendant. I suppose they are used to it with the mountain bike world cup round being held there the week after we were there for its n-enth time. Re-mounting the bikes we decided to find the Fort William franchise of the MacBackPackers hostel which had been a wholly pleasant experience in Inverness. As I rode along my front brake made a horrible noise of metal on metal as it had completely worn out. The gears were also playing up as they were out of alignment. The consequences of having been ill-equipped to maintain the bike on the journey.
Typically the hostel was located up a steep hill, so it was one last teeth-gritting climb that like with any good group of friendly masochists turned into a race to the top. Arriving outside the building in a fit of maniacal laughter, spent energy and relief, we propped the bikes up, looked at each other and there was a certain feeling of ‘what the hell do we do now?’ ‘Can’t we just carry on’. It was a strange one, it was like my body had got used to and rather liked the lifestyle I was having and wasn’t quite ready to go back to being cushioned from the elements, maybe from life itself. Why is society set up to cushion people so? Is that the natural progression, the evolution of a species? Surely the inevitable end to that is self-destruction, implosion. The foundations are weakened, the house is going to fall in? A normal ‘life’ is difficult. Working each day for eight hours doing a similar task, having a family, dealing with relationships, buying items like a new television or home cinema system, moving house, the stresses of work. These things are a mission in themselves but really only for the mind, like a pinball machine of opinions, choices, deadlines, worries, expectations, image. Life can be hard, but its like the stresses are created by the very system that we are, that we create for ourselves. Life is as hard as we make it for ourselves, our perspective on life. Its a self-replicating system, a feedback loop, of projection of image by society and internal self-image. An example: A product of a company is designed to sell. Firstly a market niche has to be discovered through research. It has to be ensured that a demographic of people will buy / desire the product because they perceive they want or find use in it. Such a product could be a piece of clothing. But what people want is to an extent moulded by the society they live in by advertising, media. The system creates what people want and also moulds what they want. Obviously this is an incredibly simple argument and doesn’t take into account all the other myriad variables and people who don’t fit this model.
Tom stayed outside whilst Mark and I went and attempted to get a room on the cheap. We had been told that we could get a discount if we’d been to the one in Inverness. The girl was fairly friendly but I think we smelt bad because she wasn’t as interested in us as Kris has been from the Inverness hostel. I was a little disappointed. However, there were plenty of people about and quite a few staff. We stored the bikes in a shed at the back of the place. The hostel was a great old building set into the hillside built from local dark-coloured grey stone. We got a dormitory with a crew of Germans, but I don’t remember them turning up at all, they must have been particularly stealthy. I set my rucksack on the floor and lay out my wet shoes on the window sill. Then I grabbed my wash kit and went to find the shower, which was the second hottest shower I’ve ever experienced. I had also left my soap somewhere in the Loch near the last bothy and I wasn’t going back to fetch it, so I used the communal hand-wash which was suitably luxurious (note for future reference). I went back down to the dormitory and lay on my bunk relaxing. I felt relieved to be resting but restless that we were nearing the end of the trip, and I didn’t want it to end. Feeling refreshed we ventured into town to the supermarket to buy some well earned beer and ingredients for a full roast dinner. I wandered around the large clinical interior of the supermarket like a zombie, disconcerted by the frantic fellow humans around me. Luckily Tom and Mark were on the ball as far as food was concerned so I decided to go and stand in the alcohol department, dribbling over the ales, and investigating the whiskys, until they were ready to go. We made the dubious decision of buying Tennent’s Extra to drink (a decision based on price), got all the other ingredients and headed back to the hostel to cook. In the kitchen was a multitude of different people. They seemed quite insular however, and despite attempts to interact they were quite cagey. They fairly promptly left to do something else but not before one guy who turned out to be the head-honcho running the place preached to us about how had had cycled backwards ten miles for charity, got a bike and demonstrated it up the hill outside the front. It was fairly impressive although he was quite egotistical about it which spoiled it a bit. There was a small cd player in the kitchen and we listened to Led Zepellin and Eric Clapton whilst Tom cooked like an artist and Mark and I attempted to help chatting over various inanities. After prolonged anticipation of the food, we ate, and it was delicious. That evening we sat in the sitting room and drank a few more beers although the crowd wasn’t half as exciting as in Inverness. After a while we got fairly bored and turned in for the night, a delightful feeling of rest and contentment as my head hit the pillow.