the cycle that wasn't

yes, there was supposed to be a big cycle happening last month and while i do have pictures of what went on that week, cycling wasn't one of them. there were gales, there were hills, of course abundant rain and an abundance of midges that just wasn't funny (i told geo that i was going to camp in morvern and he just laughed and that was before jojo, a cycling acquaintance of much more tenacity than me, bailed out of the great glen as it was all 'just too much').

off to the sea instead for a bit of kayaking and, when we got back, a bit of canoeing. all very lovely.

and then the festival. readings went well and there was a (very) surprise appearance by a couple of old school friends who i hadn't seen since the early eighties. there are few times i am stumped for words but this was one of them.

and finally this week via watching the tour of britain i did manage to get back on my mountain bike. sure it was only glentress but i made a decent enough fist of it considering and didn;t get too annoyed by those trailcentre types who have to 'rest' at every available point right in the middle of the trail. that they couldn't catch up with an out of shape fat man made me feel, well, not too bad really! i even took my shaken bones to this the new peel centre. now that the dust has settled i found it rather nice. very plush in fact.

the (slightly) unbroken truth

after last month's shenanigans the mountain bikes have stayed firmly in the shed and it's been a ginger process of getting back on the road bike and seeing what my injured leg can do. all of which has been fine in the main despite not getting to see any of my mtb pals in an age and most likely another month before that starts happening again. i can cycle that much is true but i still can't get down on the bars going uphill without feeling an all too familiar tearing sensation in my right hip.

bothersome but not overcomeable. so, post the graeme obree advice, i get myself a carry freedom trailer, a device of sublime function that has also had the handy side effect that i very much doubt i will ever, ever use panniers again. i took it out last week for a test run (load = all my tools) and met these weegie guys escaping their environment for the loveliness of perthshire. not only could i keep up but they were well impressed by how little it impeded me on the downs or corners. you can feel it on the up - there's no dodging the extra kilos! - but i feel in this mode i should start to work on the belly (the groundwork for which i've put in) and wee beard that seems to characterise the touring cyclist. i may even ditch the clipless pedals and go old school!

so the plan for my return to form is a long half loop up from perth, braemar, cairngorms, down the great glen, around loch eil, down the coast of loch linnhe, into morvern, across to mull, over to oban and then down argyll to meet t at the end of the week in machrihanish for kayak and wave based fun. i do have a return via dunoon but no time to do it. it may be i get there quicker than planned if my leg holds up and i go easy but there's some choice hills along the way that may have a say in that!

today's the day i should've been away but, obviously, there's a severe weather warning and flooding so it looks like a day's delay and a sunday watching of some of t's 'creature feature' dvds on the couch. could be worse!

so what's been done during injury time? the jam making has been lovely and it's generally been berrytastic in the garden. the raspberries haven't done us so well this year (the wild season is just starting so we're not too bothered) but the red currants are a ruby red abundance. the beans and peas are now starting to really go for it so much beaniness in sage, tomato and olive oil. plus the first of the potatoes. we've had what maybe a bit of blight so they're all cut back and we've got all historical on the topic.

having comprehensively binned tv watching this month we've gotten all bookish. i have roasted thru a bunch of kenneth white essays while t has gone margaret atwood daft. she's wheeched thru oryx and drake (loved it), made plans on in the year of the flood, finished alias grace, done some of the poetry and is currently eyeing the blind assassin. all this after atwood's drawing of a bunny! me, my favourite read so far is zachary mason's lost books of the odyssey.

we've spent quite some time gearing up for the next set of outdooriness, keeping our motivation up over the last couple of days by having a good laugh watching some of alastair humphries videos (we highly recommend the tour of shetland on a brompton). we came across alastair via kate and the fact it turning out he was just down the road from us at strathpuffer and have been very taken with his notion of micro adventures. i put it to t that her recent paddle across loch lubnaig was just such. she retorted that it was no such thing. but you did something new and you faced your fears i said. because I WAS IN THE FRONT OF THE CANOE she asserted strongly and with feeling. no matter, the pair of us being out on the water, even if it was just for a short time and even, yes, even if she did have a panic attack it has been one of my top experiences of the year and i have no doubt she'll be back in the kayak in machrihanish (tho only if they really teeny-tiny waves!)

in between

the reading of poetry again and the watching of films we actually made it away. i cycled a good old way and my knees weren't too bad - have tried adjusting all my angles, lowering the seat etc so now my left knee doesn't give way as much but my right knee does. will it ever end! lol

so, anyway, we ended up in oban seeing geo and, to save my poor joints i decided a bit of sea kayaking would be in order. t had mentioned she'd fancy the idea of a trip but, given the fear of water/boats/swimming i suggested a taster suggestion might be a better deal. before she could bottle it i was into the rather excellent sea kayak shop in oban where i not only booked her in but had phoned geo, who is almost as afraid of the water, and got him involved as well.

cue much buying of wetsuits before i realised that i had no kit with me and the thought of doing it in waterproofs felt a bit too much like bravado so my kayaking kit expanded ever so slightly. t was very happy tho so that was all that mattered. at least until she got into the boat.

i have to admit i noticed neither the fear nor the tears which was just as well as by the time we were heading back in from our morning out i was looking at her form with quite some measure of envy. true she was burst when we got back in but it was burst and cheery so only then did she tell me how close she'd been to running away. maximum credit to helen the instructor. i'd told her i was only along for the paddle but she managed to not only give loads of attention to two complete beginners (and fearties) but also to get me on my edges without a dunking. i was very impressed. and the other two loved it. i'd highly recommend it.

but what t hadn't done was get swimming. so a couple of days later i packed her into the van and off to st andrews for a dip. i let her paddle about a bit before doing what i swore i never do again after ruining myself on the west coast and actually went for a swim in the north sea. it still isn't pretty water!

but again, just as well as i soon realised just how petrified of the water t actually is. no matter, we braved the waves, splashed about and i'm confident that after a few more sessions a measure of confidence will have been gained. i don't think t'll ever be up for big waves but equally neither might i. full credit tho for confronting the fear head on. i was well impressed.

so much so i felt some sort of reciprocation was in order just out of respect for her effort. me, i'm petrified of heights over water, land no problem, but water!! it's really quite annoying but time to get a handle on it so i suggested we walk over the forth road bridge at some point just so that the shoe could be on the other foot. even the thought makes me feel sick! lol

a full report shall follow...

finally

i get the kayak in the water. it's a close run thing, after the last west coast escapade i'm cautious about going out to the pub so, fortuitously as it turns out, we limit ourselves to limited stocks from the off license. i limit myself to vodka but the boys break out the whisky and it gets messy.

no surprise then that i'm first up and we're away before there's any sign of movement. t stocks up on rocks and shells for future craft projects as well as delving into rock pools while i gingerly make my way out to sea. despite it being nigh on ten years since i last put a paddle in the water even that phrase, going out to sea, reminds me of that excitement. and after a few minutes i'm getting my confidence back and the sheltered bay seems confining. i sit out at the buoys, cormorants pass by and there's nothing but the sound of the water. i disappear into the moment and i'm reminded just why i like the bike so much.

no sign of the boys so i decide to paddle back to town. we realise pretty quick we need to get some radios, better and more waterproof than those we currently use. my arms feel odd, like my legs on a long bike ride, except in the wrong place! i hug the shore, aware that i just don;t have the juice for a long push. the wind and waves pick up. adrenalin happens! but i stay calm and easily complete my transit (all of two miles! lol). and finally the boys appear so we pile the boat back into the van and return to the beach. no cycling for me!

saturday night is far more chaotic. we go off to see shooglenifty who cope well despite an oddly muted venue and the fact they themselves seem strangely schizophrenic, as if there's two bands playing on stage. there's the first band with all the usual scottish tunes and accoutrements, to whom the dancers can stomp around merrily to, but there's the other band who're bringing in all these other sounds, almost eastern european, who are much more interesting! i tell them so but by this time the lake of vodka and red bull we've been putting away probably make it sound like gargling.

much stupidity ensues. in the morning we feel like we've been assaulted. our plans to get my picture to exhibition disappear in a hungover haze and we can only piece together the night before with glimpses in between the blanks. we get back and can only sit on the couch nursing ourselves back to health in tv land. no wonder i don't do this anymore! i don't like it, not one bit, even less so than last time and i really think that it's reaching the time when the swiss drinking boots are put away once and for all. there's just too much else to do without wasting time and money pouring the day down my neck.

so, the sun is up, maybe i can get some cycling in before t wakes up, then maybe, just maybe a paddle down the river and some time to look at the wildlife. sounds like a plan...