hundred-miler I had planned, due to a worrying development in my bottom bracket. As I was washing it on Sunday, I noticed it had developed some lateral play. I had been detecting a bit on this since Friday, but had assumed that it had something to do with my ancient pedals, which I know to have developed loose bushings. No such luck. So, this, combined with a rather worn outer chainwheel, have caused me to shift emphasis temporarily away from the road bike.Luckily, I picked up my tourer from Gear yesterday with a brand-new headset, which hopefully won't come loose every 25 miles now, so I decided to ride on up to Ben Lomond and do some hiking.
At 974m, Ben Lomond is the most southerly of the Munros, and, whilst it is heavily touristed with superbly kept footpaths, it is certainly still a bloomin' big mountain, and you have to climb all but the first 30m from sea level as you start on the shores of Loch Lomond at Rowardennan. The eastern approach is the most obviously marked out of the car park, and is a fairly easy, if persistent, climb to the summit, which dominates all nearby peaks. Views to the south encompass the whole of Loch Lomond down to small glimpses of the Clyde, whilst to the north the Highlands seem tantalisingly close, and the almost Victorian architecture of the Loch Sloy Hydroelectric dam provides a bizarre regularity against a skyline of jagged peaks and a land patched with lochs.
The western route is far more precipitous, and takes you first up the Ptarmigan, a 731m high mound that itself outclasses everything to the south of it, but next to Ben Lomond looks puny. This was the route I chose to descend, and in anything other than perfect weather and visibility I would have considered myself underprepared in just trainers and carrying only a few essentials in my rucksack. Once again, I seemed to descend far further than I had climbed - a full hour after leaving the summit, I was surprised to still be over a hundred metres above the loch.
It took me around 90 minutes to reach the summit, and 80 minutes to get back down again, in perfect weather, where the higher I climbed, the warmer it seemed to get. I felt pretty good about the whole thing - it's empowering to cycle for a couple of hours, and climb a mountain, and know that you have plenty of time to ride back again, and, moreover, to be able to do everything at your own pace. As I marched past family upon family slogging their way up the hill, I'm sure I caught many fleeting glances in the fathers' eyes as they wished to be back at an age with this little responsibility.
Back on the bike (without an ice-cream, something I felt was sorely missing from Rowardennan after a hot couple of hours on the hill), I started to feel decidedly leaden. It probably didn't help that, loaded as it was, my tourer probably weighed around 20kg, easily double the road bike. It became an exercise in shifting to the lowest gear acceptable and just spinning madly - which is no bad thing to get back in the habit of doing. I've been too complacent for too long on the bike, and it's about time something started to tire me out.
Unfortunately, I don't think the reason behind my poor form was just down to fatigue. Once at home, I started to feel unusually cold, my face flushed, and the sore throat that I thought might have been the result of my broadcasting on Friday has developed into a full-blown cough. I'm hoping an early night and an easy day tomorrow will settle things.
Good trails!
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