Five Go Wild In The Tweed Valley

Every movement seemed laboured as I became aware of adjustments that normally pass unnoticed, fatigue forcing them into my consciousness.  Head turning on weary shoulders and hips forced to drive the bike into the steep and perfectly crafted turns.  My back tyre was skittering across the flinty surface, an oh-so satisfying intermittent ripping noise before I released the brake, just a touch earlier into each corner, daring myself to squeeze out more from this trail.  Finally I got it wrong, my front wheel drifting too wide on exit and leaving the sanctity of the berm.  Instinctively I hauled it back but the back end was already too upright, my sudden body movement destroying the equilibrium of cornering style.  The bike kicked one way and then pinballed me the other, explosions of opposing forces.  Realising the inevitable I relaxed and tried to pick a decent crash line but a large immovable stump stopped the bike dead and hurled me over the bars into the trees.  My worst fears were realised as my right foot stubbornly stuck in my clipless pedal, worn cleats refusing to disconnect, twisting and tearing at my previously damaged right ankle.  Shots of pain tore up my leg and the sudden silence was punctuated by expletives.  The mental stocktake began instantly and all quickly seemed alright except for the ankle which I still couldn't free.  Through the awkwardness of my position, head down below my feet and trapped beneath the bike I was unable to move and so I lay there wedged until Andrew arrived to assist.  A few more deep breaths, some painful steps and I was good to go again.  To be honest, on a trail that incredible it would've had to be a serious injury to stop me.

The crash was no surprise.  After five full days of the most mind blowing trail riding and having explored virtually every riding area throughout the Tweed Valley our bodies were pretty spent.  The sensible thing would've been to back off on that final morning and heed the warnings of the alarmingly common close shaves but the natural competitiveness and inherent confidence were too powerful and so we attacked to the last.  Reaching the bottom of 'Flat White' the smash was briefly dissected before we raised saddles and commenced the long fire road climb once again.  We were going to eke out every last ounce of energy before finally dropping the curtain on one of the best riding trips ever.

Davy shredding a perfect berm

Scotland has long been recognised as one of the World's best biking destinations with a perfect mix of amenable morphology, motivated and dedicated trail builders and some clever and targeted marketing placing it well on the MTB map.  It may lack the weather and elevation of Alpine regions and the glamour of Whistler but it offers incredible scenery, great riding variation and well thought out facilities for anyone prepared to make the effort to seek them.  With it being so close I really should've managed more than my two previous trips but the draw of the sun has always been too strong as I've chosen instead to explore many of Europe's other classic destinations.

This trip largely came about due to the overwhelming enthusiasm of Davy whose rapid transformation from paddler to biker over the last few years and recent move to near Edinburgh had brought into clear focus the need for another visit.  Having mentioned that I had a free week in August, Davy hit me with an irresistible barrage of YouTube edits highlighting the plethora of local trails and any resistance was rendered futile.  A crew of Northern Ireland's finest biking guides and one Dublin based architect were quickly assembled and squeezed into the van before loading on to the extortionate Stena ferry and making the short trip across the Irish Sea.

'We go that way!' Pointing down the epic Gypsy Glen descent

Day 1
A 5am start did nothing to dampen the excitement as myself and Brian collected Tony and Andrew who were already sat on their wall awaiting the pick-up.  The journey was pretty straightforward with the only challenge being keeping my eyes open for the duration as we cruised through the increasingly picturesque countryside towards the Scottish Borders.  The Kailzie Bunkhouse was our destination which proved to be both perfect accommodation and also ideally located between Peebles and Innerleithen in the heart of the Tweed Valley.  Davy had a suitable warm up loop planned for us, a steady two hour jaunt around the Gypsy Glen and so after a quick unpack we were straight on the bikes and up on to the open moorland.

Not bunkhouse facilities!

Unfolding the legs after a lengthy spell in the van is always a joy but in combination with the stunning views and steep, techy open mountain singletrack it put us on an instant high.  Trying to stay upright in the deep and sloppy ruts was challenge enough, especially with some lung busting rises but also attempting to simultaneously take in the vista made for some comedy slips and slides.  I savoured the increasing anticipation that accompanied the long climb, safe in the knowledge that we'd get our reward.  And what a reward it was, a high speed, rock clattering, bunny hopping sprint down a beautiful ridge line.  Like kids let out for playtime we whooped and hollered as we dived back towards the valley floor, tempered only by a burning throat from an ill-advised summit slug of poitin from Andrew's hip flask.  I'll have to learn to not be such a sucker for the ceremonial drinks!

Toothy grins and wide-eyed fist bumps were shared at the bottom along with hundred mile an hour recalls of sketchy moments experienced by all.  There was definitely no notion of calling it a day and so we took the short ride over to Glentress to take in the best of the trail centre.  Regardless of your views of man-made trails it's hard to deny that the 'Spooky Woods' into 'Super G' combo is a stunning piece of design.  Dropping in fast I took advantage of my Ragley's big wheels forcing Tony to pedal more than he wanted to keep me at bay.  We kept dualling through 'Matrix' and into 'The Bitch' before getting our first taste of the twisty 'off trail' routes on offer in the valley with 'Ponduro'.  Tight and slippery it was the antithesis of the sure surfaced sanctioned tracks and a perfect appetite whetter for the challenges to come.

Bunkhouse facilities

The early start dented our social plans for the evening although we did get out for dinner where an extremely inebriated chef managed to rustle up some decent nosh at the local steakhouse.  Back at the bunkhouse where we had the whole place to ourselves we didn't make a single dent in the beer collection as exhaustion sent us to early beds.

Day 2
This was the day I'd been anticipating so eagerly.  The reputation of the Golfie preceded it, no longer a locals only secret spot, the EWS and some extremely useful trail apps have made this previously hidden gem accessible to all.  All, that is who like their trails unbelievably steep, off-camber, rooted, rutted and physical.  The climb to the top was pleasant enough, initially trekking through the trees at an easy gradient with eyes bulging at the amazing looking ends and beginnings of various trails, it then steepened out on to the open moorland past an old concrete reservoir.  Views from the top were predictably breathtaking and we padded up whilst the boys discussed which route to tackle first.  With hindsight 'Nae Spleens' was a bit of a baptism of fire, rooty corners on to seriously steep drop-ins weren't for the faint hearted but we loved it and were chomping at the bit on the next climb just to get to more of the same.  Over the next three hours we span the climbs and sprinted the descents, chasing eachother hard and picking up the pace as we regained confidence on the uber-tech.  Crashes were surprisingly few despite continually clipping bars on trees and feeling the front wheels slide on the steep roots.  Ultimately Andrew came down on 'Flat White' and from my position right on his tail I couldn't prevent myself ploughing into his Cotic which had managed to block the entire trail.  No damage done we dusted ourselves off and resumed the race to the end.  Seven stunning trails, thirty kilometres and over a thousand metres of ascent and descent ridden, we were happy souls as we re-crossed the golf course and splashed the bikes in the river, pausing to laugh at Brian as he fell in before commiserating as his Garmin was lost to the current.

Look where you want to be, practicing what I preach!

A ceremonial post-ride beer was followed by several others as the Kailzie BBQ got an airing and we happily recalled the highlights of a truly incredible day.

Day 3
Davy inexplicably cut all the corners on the steep climb up Innerleithen's lower slopes whilst the rest of us opted for the mellower zig-zags.  Perhaps he wanted to burn off the thousands of calories of consumed meat or maybe with his prior knowledge of the day's ride he was just dying to get into the descents.  Natural order was restored as I burned him off towards the summit of Minch Moor, pausing to take in the view and the living art installation before stopping again at the top to savour yet another sun drenched landscape.

Glorious Minch Moor

A living installation

The initial trail centre burnout was deceptively tricky with a narrow, pedal grabbing rut tracked at warp speed with serious consequences for slipping off line.  We'd been joined for the day by Gordy, another Scottish ripper who helped keep the pace high through the trail centre jumps of 'Make or Brake' before the brilliant twists and turns of 'Green Wing'.  The trails on this slope seemed more reticent to drain than others and despite the recent dry spell they were axle deep in places, particularly on one bog of a trail that Davy tricked me and Brian on to.  The other lads had wisely opted to relax in the sun and eat pies whilst we drowned in the gloop.

The Inners slop!

 A couple more superb natural trails set us up for the most daunting and technical trail of the week, the infamous 'Too Hard For The EWS' which is literally what it was.  The rumour goes that the Tweedlove organisers decreed that rider safety would be compromised if the World's best were set loose on this vertical rock fest.  Andrew and Tony both had prior experience of the trail and through their descriptions I was a touch apprehensive.  They certainly hadn't painted a false picture and I took a battering through the severely committing drop-off corners, 'yeoooowing' with delight at each one successfully navigated.  Ultimately I blew out two of them and found myself tumbling down the hillside sans-velo, the inability to stop sliding highlighting the sheer angles involved.  Riding the rest clean and finding some flow through the most technical section I redeemed myself and shared in Tony's delight at his first clean run in three attempts.  Next time...

Tony enjoying cake at No.1 Peebles Rd

Buzzed up by surviving that challenge we somehow dragged ourselves back up to ride the bottom of one of the Innerleithen DH lines, a trail that matched huge compressions with floaty tabletops and entertaining rock drops and guaranteed more smiles as we headed off for a top class feed at the immensely welcoming Number 1 Peebles Road Cafe in the village.  That evening we celebrated Tony's birthday with another meat fest and the traditional Tesco Caterpillar Cake, a true classic of our time!

More cake!!

Day 4
Bodies and minds were clearly starting to degenerate as a sluggish start was punctuated with monosyllabic grunts on the drive to Yair Forest.  Luckily Davy's eternal motivation raised the spirits as we ground out the standard first climb, lost in our own personal struggles.  By the summit my mood had lightened significantly as I checked out the striking 'Three Brethren' and stared into the mist, hoping it would lift soon.

One of the impressive Three Brethren

Yet another quality trail awaited us, a delicious mix of moorland looseness and woodland singletrack.  The heavy water vapour splashed from heather disturbed by our carving wheels and made for slippery corners as we dived into the darkness of the forest.  Riding trails 'blind' always adds an extra frisson of excitement, braking late and decisively over unknown rises and rock drops, blowing out bends that became visible too late for tired reflexes.  I can vaguely remember a gem of a trail called 'Yair Man' and a general feeling that the forest was less developed and visited than the other areas.  It certainly has acres of potential!


Bikes were thrown back in the van and we made the short trip to Thornilee, an area that none of us had prior knowledge of.  Parts of it reminded me of some of the Northern Irish riding with a smaller elevation gain and some twisting and pedally sections.  There was no disguising the Scottish steepness at the bottom end of the trails though and we twice dropped into one of the best sections yet ridden, a confidence inspiring dream of a track with shapely catch berms that allowed an aggressive approach to the steepest of drops, slamming into the apex and being handily redirected towards the next drop with minimal rider input.  Feeling like heroes we trekked up for yet more fun before Brian's front brake decided that enough was enough.  Rather than admitting defeat, Brian discovered the benefit of riding with four qualified Mountain Bike Leaders as we all reached for well stocked toolkits and bags of spares, changing the pads and fitting a longer caliper bolt in an attempt to alleviate the issue.  Sadly a leaking piston was diagnosed signalling game over but by that point exhaustion was hitting hard and a trip to the pizza shop was calling.

How many MBL's do you need to fix a torn tyre?!

Day 5
We couldn't believe it had come around so fast, the hallmark of a great time being had!  We'd slipped into a daily routine of top class biking and laddish interaction followed by huge feasts and quality beers.  This last day required a bit more organisation as time was limited so we finished the last of the sausages for breakfast, packed up, cleaned up and were back in the Golfie before 9am.  The plan was simple, a high speed two hour smash and grab of our favourite trail selection.  We were definitely suffering the combined effects of upper body trail battering and leg tearing climbs from over five thousand metres of combined ascent so far and although we still felt fast, the boy's Strava times said otherwise! 

Taking it serious on the last day!

We managed to get in '3G', 'Community Service' and 'Flat White' twice before the tentative glory run on 'Final Fling' back to the van.  Miraculously despite the tiredness in our movements and Brian riding on just one brake and excepting my own ankle wrenching moment we got away with very few crashes, experience creating luck right up until the end.  Cheesy handshakes and man hugs signalled the end of the biking and all that remained was to wash the bikes, pack the van and head for home, the warm glow of an amazing shared experience keeping the smiles etched on our faces.


Returning to polite society following the mickey-taking atmosphere of the trip was like a decompression session and I was glad of the tinted van windows and loud radio to drown out the social commentary from the kids in the back!  Amazingly we were still all on good speaking terms right up until the end when we threw out Tony and Andy's kit at 11pm, another surefire sign of a successful trip.  Brian and I headed for my place and were unable to resist new found habits, horsing into the Doritos and last of the Belgian beers before collapsing, the comfort of my own bed guaranteeing the commencing of the recovery process!

Huge thanks to all the lads for a superb trip.  Davy, Tony and Andrew's guiding was impeccable and Brian's ability to design an office space at will was always reassuring!  Massive appreciation also goes to Ragley Bikes for producing a 29'er hardtail that excelled in all of the huge variety of trails we encountered.  I never once felt under-biked and although my trail leg took a battering my overwhelming love of the hardtail never wavered.

Clean it like you love it, the superb Ragley Bigwig

If you haven't been to the Tweed Valley and you class yourself as a very good Intermediate to Advanced rider with a decent level of fitness then get yourself out there now.  By my reckoning the riding was every bit as good as the Alps with the added bonus of a really positive attitude towards bikers from literally everyone we met.  It was great being able to walk into a cafe or shop covered head to toe in mud and no doubt smelling like death and be asked what trails we'd hit rather than shuffled out the door as quickly as possible.  Scotland is a beautiful and heavily underrated country and even if you don't share our luck with the weather you'll still get to ride World Class trails before chilling out in purpose built, biker friendly accommodation.  What are you waiting for?

Glorious Scotland!

Oh and just for the lads, I Googled 'worst band ever' and it definitely is Maroon 5, told ya so!

Loving the mud

Unsociable mushroom on Tuesday

Became party mushroom by Friday!

The diet was varied

Cheers lads!!

Steamy bog drying rapidly

About to get Enduroooooo

Disastrous half day closing at the butcher on Wednesday meant a Tesco raid!

And finally.... What the hell is going on here?!!