Over Christmas and new year we went to Galloway for a few days cycling and walking. Now usually when I am up there I ride with a couple of guys but alas they had been struck down with the lurgy [Graeme`s powers stretch far] so I was on my own. So this particular morning I decided to head north zig zagging my way because of the gale force north westerly. In doing so I had to use some very narrow lanes which the local farmers use and had decided to deposit most of their fields onto the said lanes. After removing field from mudguards [isn’t cycling fun?] I reached Stranraer and headed for the shore road which is fully exposed to the north westerly blowing straight off Loch Ryan. Whilst cycling through Stranraer I heard someone shout out "BRIAN!" I tried to turn my head to see who it might be very nearly lost control because of the wind [memories of Shap came flooding back] I carried on. I climbed out of Stranraer [not a Fleet Moss, I might add] and headed for my next destination, Kirkcolm. Looking at the sky it was going to be wet. The ride to Kirkcolm is usually very beautiful with the loch and the hills and this occasion was no exception with a fantastic rainbow and, framed right in the middle, Alisa Craig, like a huge sharks fin [Think I am getting the hang of this!]

photo: Paul Hart

When I reached Kirkcolm the rain was now apocalyptic so on seeing a bus shelter me and the bike took shelter. After 20 mins and refreshment it was back into gale for another two miles to the Northern headland of Corsewall point where I could turn south with wind behind and my next port of call, Portpatrick. On reaching Portpatrick decisions had to be made: left and the easier way or right and a challenge. The climb out of Portpatrick is normally quite stiff rising from sea level to four hundred feet in one and half miles by a series of five steps two 20% and three 15% but when you get there the views over the north channel to Ireland are very special. All that was left was a hair raising descent and then another fifteen percenter [who said there was no hills, think that was me] and five miles back to the caravan a warm smile and a plate of beans on toast.

What more can you ask for on a winter mornings bike ride?

Brian Sims

photo: SFC9394