I’m not a superstitious person and I’m a big believer that you make your own “luck” through preparation, but when the wheels fall off (hopefully not literally), it’s often down to an oversight that’s come back to bite you.

However, my run with the Highland Trail 550 has been bumpy at best, and even for the most pragmatic of thinkers it might have started to feel like the world was conspiring against you.

The first time I went to ride the route it turned into quite the story, the second time I made the trip up north to take part in the Grand Depart the weather was so bad that I decided to pull from the race after day 1 out of a sense of preservation of life, whether that be mine or the person who would have had to come out to me if I was injured or worse. On those days it’s always the right move to err on the side of caution.

With the 2020 Grand Depart of the Highland Trail 550 (HT550) being cancelled due to Covid-19 all riders got their places deferred to the 2021 group start. This was still beyond certainty but as the date got nearer Alan Goldsmith (HT550 creator) sent out the all GO message and that was that, let the mild panic and creeping obsession with kit build.

This year was a particular gift for me as my birthday fell on the start day, the 22nd May. What better way to celebrate another lap round the sun than to jump on your bike with all the bits and bobs that you need and pedal around the soul-cleansing highlands of Scotland?

Day 1 Tyndrum-Cannich 200kms

Due to COVID-19 there wasn’t the usual mass start in order to keep a suitable distance from each other. My start time was 0815, we got underway and settled in to a nice steady and sustainable pace, there’s no point going off like a rocket, this race is very much a marathon and not a sprint. It was my aim to enjoy every mile of the route, I know how gutting it can be when you realise you’re not going to complete the whole route so it’s important to maximise enjoyment of everything you ride.

However, I was finding it hard not to have getting past my furthest previous point and breaking new ground in my head. The first day passed really fast and it just seemed to flow really well. I had periods of time riding with great company, it was great chatting to Sally Ozanne who was leading the women’s field. I’d first heard of Sally in the weeks previous as she’d had a storming ride at the Dales Divide where she flew round the course in 44 hours, it was great chatting with Sally as she has great energy and the time just flew by.

The day wasn’t completely without incident, on the descent off Ben Alder I was going pretty well but I heard a loud pop that immediately got my heart racing. I pulled over and looked at my seat pack and realised that one of the plastic buckles that attached the bag to the saddle had broken which meant the bag was swinging off to the one side. I had a moment of panic but I remembered that I had some extra long Voile Straps in my frame bag for just such an occasion.

These straps are so simple, super light and really allow you to ratchet some tension up. They have an unending amount of uses, only limited by your creativity. I’ve used them to hold broken bags onto the frame before, I’ve used them to attach a pineapple to my fork leg, to make a washing line, to walk the dog when I forgot the lead, to tie up shrubs to a stake. They really are the handiest items and in this case they were a race saver.

Before too long I was facing down the Corrieyairack Pass which is always a tricky one, it only gets steep right at the end but the build up to it is steady and a consistent effort all the while the summit and high point of the whole route is in sight, when you do finally get to the bottom of the climb it is steep but manageable and the large loose gravel makes it a real wrestle on the bike keeping your balance and making constant upward progress. I felt like I’d arrived at the bottom of the climb a little dehydrated so I tried to take it really steady and drink as much water as I could whilst keeping moving. Before too long I’d made it to the top and began the undulating descent to Fort Augustus.

Because of a fairly event free start to the ride I’d made pretty good time to Fort Augustus so I knew I was going to catch the fuel station open to restock snacks for the next phase. I had considered loading up on snacks, getting some quick chips and then getting going again but I decided against this. Previous experience told me that the extra time taken to have sit down food was completely worth it this early in the ride. A chance to sit down, rehydrate, eat a good meal and get prepared for riding into the night. My plan was to ride up past Loch Ma Stac and make it to Cannich where I would sleep. In 2019 I’d slept in the Corrimony bothy so the plan was to get beyond this and get to a place I could grab a few hours sleep, pack up quick and get moving again.

Day 2 Cannich-Loch Stack 200kms

After getting the planned few hours sleep I got my stuff packed up and hit the road feeling surprisingly fresh. Before I go to sleep I always try to drink a protein drink that I mix up with water. It’s a quick thing to do and it makes a massive difference to how you feel the next day.

I loosely had a plan to get as far as I could into the northern loop, I had ridden this section before so I knew what was coming up and I knew it was tough. It has a couple of big hike-a-bike sections with terrain that is overall very slow going. Before I got that far though there was still a lot of ground to cover, first thing to check off was to get to Contin Stores and stock up on snacks to get me through the rest of the day.

“events like this are so transient, you dip in and out of people’s experiences strike up a bond and then they’re gone again”

I’d been riding with Mike DeBernado since the Orrin Reservoir, we’d met previously at the Dales Divide in 2020 and had had a great chat then, so it was good to share the route with him again. We were also joined John Fettis although I can’t remember whether we joined him or he joined us, events like this are so transient, you dip in and out of people’s experiences strike up a bond and then they’re gone again, nothing like normal life really, or maybe it is just sped up as people’s goals are condensed into such a short time. We arrived at Contin Stores and saw that Ben Anderson was already there listening to some tunes and having a stretch.

We’d met Ben the previous evening in Fort Augustus where he’d waltzed in to the pizza place with a giant tub of Ben and Jerry’s, grabbed a fork (why a fork?) and started tucking in. I was sort of jealous at the thought of being able to eat so freely. I was slightly dehydrated and was struggling to eat, I spent a long time looking at my pizza like it was some puzzle to be solved. I cracked it eventually.

Anyway as fresh as Ben looked and sounded he was having trouble with his knee. Admirably he jumped back on his bike and tried to press on, we later saw him on down the trail and he had made the decision to scratch. A wise decision when you have something that clearly isn’t going to improve or settle. Whilst at Contin Lars Henning had joined the party, we all set off from the stores at different times but myself, Lars and Mike came back together fairly quickly and rode all the way to Oykel Bridge together. I remembered the stretch from Contin to Oykel Bridge as being fairly short but it seemed to go on forever, I was really glad to have company on this stretch otherwise I think I might have found it mega monotonous.

When we got to Oykel Bridge my plan was to sit down and eat, have a break from the bike and just get my head in to gear for what was coming. I reached the furthest point that I’d made it in one hit in previous years but had ridden the northern loop with my girlfriend at another time so I knew what to expect. Mike and Lars decided to get going pretty sharpish from Oykel Bridge so we said our goodbyes before I got to eating.

I set out from Oykel Bridge at I think 1630, the aim was to get to where I planned to sleep (near Loch Stack) by the time it got dark. As I set out on the first road section the wind picked up, the beginnings of the forecast storm and I did feel a sense of dread come over me as I knew how remote it feels on the northern loop, but I just kept riding and gave myself time to get into the groove. Even after 30mins break from the bike it can feel like a new day so I just gave myself time to get into it.

I made great progress along the section, one chap I passed (I didn’t get his name) had been riding through the night and had made amazing progress. I then passed Gary Davies just after the turn off at West Merkland. I felt really good as I got through Glen Golly and just kept making forward progress, I was really keen to just get all the peaty boggy bits out of the way and get myself at the foot of the hike a bike up and round Bealach Horn.

This boggy section between Bealach Horn and Glen Golly just feels so isolated and harsh, but beautiful, it always takes my breath away.

As I was making my way to the hike a bike I got the sense I was being watched. A family of deer just looking down at me, I was in their environment and I felt like they were looking down on me with pity as my bi-ped frame lumbered through the peat flailing with my wheeled metal contraption by my side.

I got the bog, drop and roll section done and was soon facing up to the hike a bike just after crossing the outflow from the An Dubh-Loch. Just next to the loch I saw a tent right at edge, no bike, too early to be stopped so it wasn’t anyone doing the HT550. But I stopped and looked at the tent for a while, it was sited in such a stunning place and I just had a pang of wanting to be doing that and not what I was doing. It was fleeting, as I was soon moving again but it looked perfect.

As I neared the top of Bealach Horn I could see someone up ahead, they were still moving quite well but did look laboured in some way. I soon caught up to them and realised it was Lars, he didn't look well and looked a bit shell-shocked. He explained to me that he’d begun pushing up the hike a bike and all of a sudden felt quite dizzy and his heart had started racing.

I could see that it had crossed his mind that something bad was happening and that he’d suddenly felt quite alone and I got the sense he was glad to see someone. I reassured him that I’d stick with him to get off the hill and said I planned to pitch up in a clump of trees just before you emerge next to Loch Stack. It sounded to me like he was dehydrated and his body had become a bit stressed, no surprise given what we were doing. Even when you’re really trying to keep fed and watered it’s impossible to keep moving under such exertion and not run on the limit. We pitched up in increasing wind and got off to sleep.

Day 3 Loch Stack-Loch an Nid ~180kms

I’d slept a little longer than I’d planned and by the time I’d had the obligatory bleary-eyed kit faff I got moving around 0430. Today, barring the short section from Loch Stack to Kylesku was going to be all new territory for me, I spent a long time looking at the map and getting an idea of what was coming up but nothing can prepare you for what you’ll face in reality.

Completion of the northern loop was all a bit of a blur, it rained pretty much all day, my feet had already been soaked from day 1 and although I was getting my feet dry each night before putting bed socks on it just wasn’t enough time for them to recover before getting the wet riding socks on and pushing on. Feet are so often overlooked but they really are everything. How many expeditions have ended prematurely or in disaster because of deteriorating foot conditions? It’s a creeping issue and if you don’t manage it it will catch you out.

Having been a fan of the Highland Trail for quite a long time day 3 was a day where I started to tick off some of the things that I’d heard a lot about but had never actually been to. After riding the savagery of the road to Drumbeg I was greeted with smiling faces at Drumbeg Stores. It’s hard to describe what a refuge this place is without the context of two nights sleeping rough and riding your bike to get there. It’s like a dessert oasis except it’s cold, wet and not in the dessert. This is the first resupply on the trip where I felt I was going to get some vitamins and minerals, I kicked this off in slightly the wrong way by tucking in to some fresh and still warm samosas, which to a heavily ulcered mouth possibly wasn’t the best idea but they were really bloody good. I purchased as much as I could carry as I knew I wasn’t going to get resupply until the following day. I set off in the rain again, excited to see what the rest of today offered.

I ticked off a lot of stuff that I’d heard mentioned so many times, Clachtoll, Achmelvich, Lochinver and before I knew it I was making my way up past Glencanisp Lodge and getting going on the Ledmore traverse. Apparently this had been extended from previous years and writing this I’m kicking myself that I hadn’t paid more attention to this section when people have spoken about it previously.

It starts fairly innocently with nice double track that has you passing through the landscape comfortably but soon deteriorates into nothing where you’re just sloshing through bog and before you know it just a seemingly endless succession of large loose rock, no major climbing or descending, just an anxiety inducing trudge across potentially ankle snapping detritus. I didn’t much enjoy this bit but stayed positive and remained focussed on getting it done and reminding myself to look around and take it all in, these are the bits we remember most vividly.

Before too long I was back at Oykel Bridge where I planned to get a warm meal in me before pushing on. I got back to Oykel Bridge at almost exactly 24hrs from when I was last there. When I tried to rationalise how much I’d seen and done in that 24hrs it blew my mind a little and I still had a lot of riding in me before I’d be stopping again.

Just as I’d arrived I had a quick chat with Nick Carter, we had a quick chat before he set off again and I tucked in to my jacket potato and beans. No trouble with my appetite this time round, I’d obviously got my hydration in check. I got my food eaten quick, I bought a few more snacks to top me up and then got going again. Just as I was leaving Andrea Rogers rolled in almost in the same sequence as when I’d arrived and Nick had left, it was pretty funny.

I was fired up to ride and was looking forward to getting on it again. I knew the next town with food was Ullapool which had a Tescos that closed at 10. I had no intention in stopping there as I had enough food to get me through to the next day so I wasn’t concerned about making it. It’s so worth having the extra carrying capacity where you can confidently store enough food. I am slightly guilty of taking more food with me than I need which is a bit of a weight penalty but I really don’t like stopping too much, if you stop a lot you inevitably haemorrhage time so my way of thinking is that what you might lose riding slightly slower because of the weight you gain by not having to stop.

I got to Ullapool fairly quickly, probably around 2000/2030. As planned I just kept on rolling, I knew the next section was going to lead me up into Fisherfield, a completely new route into Fisherfield but as it was all new to me it didn't really matter, I was excited none the less. The plan, if you can call it that was just to ride until I was too tired to carry on. The rain was still coming down and it was about an hour away from darkness but I felt surprisingly fresh and strong still so just kept going. In the back of my head I knew that I was inching ever closer to the river crossing that comes out of Loch Na Sealga, that was still quite a way off so I knew I didn’t really have to think about that until morning.

As I made my way up past Loch á Bhraoin it was now pretty much as dark as it gets at the end of May, I kept seeing flashes of deer’s eyes as they motored across the track in front of me. As the track turned to path and then to faint track the going got quite tough as there was a lot of stop and start, off the bike, on the bike, push over a crest, cross a stream. With the drop in temperature and the sustained pummelling from the rain my energy quickly drained out of me and around 2330 I started to feel quite tired and in the back of my mind I was looking to get my tent up somewhere to get out of the rain and sleep for a couple of hours before cracking on.

However at this point the ground was so saturated it just wasn’t worth it, I thought I may as well just keep going, I was only wasting time looking for somewhere suitable. For a short time, maybe 10 mins, I just sat on a rock and rested, I think to just get my head out of the situation for a few minutes and try to embrace what was going on. I bought a new jacket a couple of weeks before the start based on trusted recommendations as my old waterproof had given up after many re-proofings. I went with the Columbia Ex-Reign which is made using their Out Dry technology. It is by far the best waterproof I’ve ever had, it kept all the rain out and was breathing really well. No damp spots, nothing. With its huge hood and wrap around at the front it cocoons you and makes you feel like you’re in a mobile shelter. If they keep making them I don’t see that I’ll ever buy anything else.

I found a nice bit of high ground as I was rounding the corner to Loch an Nid so I took the opportunity to start setting up my tent, the wind had picked up and I was on a high bit of ground so didn’t get much shelter. As I was setting up I kept catching something that was reflecting back at me in my headtorch. I’d had loads of encounters with deer and I was in a very sleepy confused state and just stood there staring at what was reflecting back at me. It took me longer than I’m proud to admit to realise that what I was looking at down below me was a large geodesic tent and what was reflecting back at me was the reflective strips on the guy lines.

At the moment I realised I saw a light come on in the tent a hundred metres below and the tent unzip. We had a moment where we were both staring at each other before the person shouted up “is everything ok?” and I replied “sorry just pitching my tent” it was only when I got in my tent and had had a minute to get in my dry stuff that I realised how weird this would have been for what I suspect was a family.

I’d woken them up at around 0230 lighting their tent up which must have seemed mega rude. The context of how remote this area is and the time that I arrived would have been at best perplexing for whoever I disturbed. If by some miracle that person is reading this I’m really sorry, in my sleep deprived state I’d somehow become convinced your tent was an odd arrangement of deer, what can I say…

Day 4 Loch an Nid- Dornie ~120kms

I was really excited about the day ahead as I’d heard so much about Fisherfield and seen so many photographs that I knew I was in for a treat. I got going around 0430/0500 and started the trudge up past Shenavall bothy up to the shore of Loch na Sealga. With all the rain the day before the Loch had come up quite a bit, I’d managed to keep all my riding kit dry so I was keen to keep that going, I’d decided on my strategy long before arriving at the crossing so there was no time wasted, I took the seat pack and bar bags off my bike, got naked and put all my clothes in my dry bags.

I carried all that across to other side and then waded back through to get my bike and cross again. It was on the second crossing that I really took the time to take note of what I was doing. With my bike on my back, totally naked and stood up to just above my waist in water I stopped in the middle of the 50m crossing and just looked north-west into the huge body of water of Loch na Sealga. The sun was still making its way into the valley so although light it was still cold and the light was flat. The loch just looked inky black and vast and it almost felt as though my vantage was at water level with the loch stretching out in front of me. I felt incredibly insignificant in this huge glenn but felt peaceful and in awe of what I was seeing. When I got to the other side I let out a huge yelp that echoed all around me. I felt happy that body, bike and kit had made it across unscathed and felt completely humbled by the natural amphitheatre that surrounded me. Then I thought “It’s still early I hope that family didn’t hear that yelp!”

On the other side of the crossing I got my kit sorted as quickly as I could and the sun burst round the corner with perfect timing so any wet bits got dried almost instantly as the sun warmed me up sharpish. Quick check of the map and I could see that I had quite the hike out of the valley up Gleann na Muice Beag. This went down fairly quickly although it was slog and I was soon at the well known Fisherfield descent down to the Dubh Loch causeway.

The descent is fairly meaty, it would be perfect on a bike with some bounce and not fully loaded but on my fully rigid loaded bike it felt pretty challenging, this is not the place you want to take a fall or even damage your bike for that matter, this was highlighted by a dead deer being in the track, which had looked to have fallen from above and been there some time.

Ride within yourself, make good decisions and keep moving, this was the mantra.

My bike had held up superbly and had given me zero to worry about so the very least I could do was nurse it down this descent. With the descent done and the causeway crossed I soon found myself in Poolewe where I spotted a little cafe. I headed straight there and found a table outside. There were quite a lot of people there and they all looked very well dressed, very respectable and seemed like they were having a nice holiday.

I was a very aware that I had completed the transition into now looking and smelling completely feral. I did my best impression of a normal human and ordered lots of cake, two lots of sandwiches, one for now and one for later and two coffees. I sat outside and had a lovely conversation with a couple who were on holiday. They were interested to know why I looked so bedraggled. I tried to explain but there’s always the feeling that it’s not quite landing how stupid the thing is that you’re doing.

I got away fairly sharpish and was feeling fairly fresh. I’d really got into a routine by now and knew that in the morning and early afternoon I could just sort of tick along, not feeling great, not feeling bad just clocking in for a shift, I was also deep enough into this race to know that around 1600-1800 I just completely switched into feeling like I’d just started riding. It happened every day, without fail and today was no different, sure enough around 5 I was storming down the road to Kinlochewe where I stopped at the petrol station for another top up on snacks before setting off again.

After this stop I came into the best portion of riding that I’ve ever had in my life, as I rode past Loch Clair and Loch Coulin and then over the tops before descending down to Achnashellach Station I just had a total feeling of calm and removal of any anxiety. So often when you’re on a multi-day ride things are running through your head, just checking in on stuff really, how’s my body?, how’s my bike?, I’d better lube my chain, have I got enough food to get to … it’s sort of continuous.

That anxious thinking just disappeared and I suppose I was just completely in the moment just feeling like I had it all under control.

As I rolled down the A890 the sun was just starting to drop, but it was still warm, I was sat up giving my back a stretch just taking in my surroundings, I put my hand in my pocket and my toothbrush was there, I gave my teeth a brush, no paste, just a bit of water as I was riding along and all just felt perfect, I guess what you’d call bicycle Nirvana.

If at that point someone had said are you good to ride to the finish in Tyndrum? I would have been pretty confident I could just cruise all the way in. It was a feeling I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to repeat.

In contrast to this, fast forward a few hours, I was just riding out of Dornie and had a major attack of the sleepies. Ideally I wanted to get to the start of Glen Affric but I knew if I pushed through this sleepy period I would wake up and that would be it then, no sleep to the finish so I took the message my body was giving me and sidled off into the woods to my right handside. No rain, so no need to bother with the tarp, perfect!

Day 5 Dornie-Tyndrum ~ 200kms

Without knowing it I managed to snooze my alarm a couple of times so I was 40mins later getting up than I’d planned. I must have been tired at this point because I’d forgotten to drink my recovery drink, I hadn’t taken my shorts off, I’d just pulled them down round my ankles and got into my sleeping bag, so I was still airing the important bits out but not quite in the regimented fashion that I’d started with.

The first part of the morning was spent on the road getting to the head of Glen Affric. I knew there was an extended hike a bike which in my head I’d built up to be quite a thing. I think because I’d psyched myself up for it and I was hitting it first thing in the morning it was no problem, I sort of breezed through it, taking a few photographs, stopping to snack occasionally and take in the view and just generally enjoying myself.

Before I knew it I was coming up to Tomich where I planned to come slightly off route, I knew there was a village shop and a hotel in Tomich so I thought I’d take the opportunity to stock up as I’d convinced myself Fort Augustus was further away than it was.

On the approach to Tomich there were some signs on the gate welcoming HT550 riders to the cafe so I thought why not, I grabbed some amazing peanut butter brownies and some crisps and I was back on the road again. Just the pylon climb as it’s called and then a rapid descent into Fort Augustus.

The plan once I got to Fort Augustus was to top up my snacks (I had loads but I just felt better knowing I had good stock) and then depending on how things were looking I would get myself a sit down meal and give my feet chance to dry and air. With the novelty of 4G in Fort Augustus I thought I’d give the tracker a quick check whilst eating outside the petrol station.

It looked like Gary Davies who was behind me had made up some good time and was now probably only an hour behind me. With this information I changed my plans and just thought I’d crack on. I knew it was pretty flat for the next 50kms to Fort William so I just thought I’d get on it. It’s funny because my plan coming in to the HT550 was to just get round, I didn’t really have an eye on time or positions or anything like that, I just really wanted to get a finish under my belt and just simply see the rest of the route.

But if you’re a competitive person it’s just there, the goalposts move and setting yourself targets just happens, its a key part of my motivation, the targets don’t have to be racing other people but just competition springs up even where there is none. The 50km flew by and before I knew it I was at the foot of the climb that would continue to follow the West Highland Way up and over the tops to Kinlochleven and then up and over to Glen Coe and then over again to Tyndrum. It all felt so close.

It was still just about light when I got to Kinlochleven but I was starting to feel a little weary, I started up the climb which eventually takes you to the top of the Devil’s Staircase. The climb initially follows the line of some huge water pipes that flow into the hydro power station in Kinlochleven, in my tired headed state I did about 200metres of climbing up the wrong side of the water pipes and although there was a track there which I believe is the old road and it runs parallel to the track I was supposed to be on I didn’t want to risk a disqualification because of this, so there was only one thing for it. Descend all the way down and come back up the correct side. As if this route needed additional height gain.

After not too long I made it to the top of Devil’s Staircase ready for the drop in to Glen Coe. I was very ready for sleep at this point but I knew I needed to work through the sleepies and my brain and body would soon kick into action. I rattled and banged my way down the descent passing a few people camping at the side of the trail. A light came on in one tent as I skidded to a stop when I nearly shot past a foot bridge. Riding on the West Highland Way at the side of the road through Glen Coe towards the King’s Hotel was a bit of a blur and I don’t remember too much, I was sort of in full robot mode at this point, occasionally coming into the waking world where I had to make a decision or perform a task that was slightly different like fill up a water bottle or stop to retrieve some buried food. After cresting the climb off the back of the Glen Coe mountain centre I started the long descent down to Loch Tulla, this came at the perfect time for me as the thought of climbing seemed beyond my reach at this point.

But this is the Highland Trail 550 and before too long I was on the way up again to overcome Màm Carraigh and descend to the Bridge of Orchy. I was now getting very close to familiar ground with probably only 10km or so remaining, but in all honesty it may as well have been 200kms at this point because I felt spent.

In reality it was just the lack of sleep. I’m sure with an hour or two and a continuation of the routine that I’d slipped into so neatly it would have all come back together, but this was the last push, I was running on fumes and I knew it, I just needed the end to come.

As I gained the high ground, with only a descent left to get to where we’d all started less than 5 full days ago I started to cry. I felt like there had been a hard road to this point. Not just the hours that had passed since we started on the 22nd of May but since 2018. Going through the disappointment of having a trip curtailed because my bike had been stolen to finally getting on the route on a borrowed bike which then gave up, to getting my bike back and going through many hours of chatting with police to starting again in 2019 and having to ditch the attempt. All that time and emotional energy peaked with that final descent into Tyndrum. It was the end of the race for me but the beginning of a new level of appreciation of a route and of a nation that I love so much.

Highland Trail 550 Results 2021 (taken from https://highlandtrail550.weebly.com)

NAME TIME

Liam Glen 3-11-00 (singlespeed record 😮)

Andrew Hutcheson 3-17-19

James Hayden 3-18-59

Jim Higgins 4-14-15

Steve Chapman 4-21-18

Gary Davies 5-00-08

Steve Waters 5-06-12

Lars Henning 5-07-02

Phil Clarke 5-07-50

Mike Toyn 5-07-50

John Fettis 5-08-47

Annie Le 5-08-55 (1st female)

Pete Crawforth 5-13-43

Chris Moorhouse 5-19-28

Nick Carter 5-21-20

Ian McNab 5-21-35 (oldest ever finisher, 65)

Nick Bubb 5-22-31

Emma Holgate 5-22-59 (2nd female)

Chris Sleight 6-03-30

David Murray 6-05-31

Rob Waller 6-10-17

Tom Robinson 6-10-34

Iain Cormack 6-14-42

Mike Dennison 6-16-38

Crispin Hoult 6-16-45

Ruth Crewe 6-19-56 (3rd female)

Russell Jones 6-20-07

Johnny Baker 8-03-43

Martin Brown 9-01-59

Andrea Rodgers 9-03-39 (4th female)

Not all bikepacking is like the above. Most of the time it’s much more fun to take your time, go for a short ride, set up camp and enjoy nature to the fullest. If you fancy giving bikepacking a go but you’re not sure on how to get going, why not give our Introduction to bikepacking course a go?

Highland Trail 550- Third time lucky?