MYOG Handlebar bag

I've just finished sewing this snazzy new handlebar bag for my bike. It is a randonneur-style bag which sits on top of a small rack over my front wheel. It opens towards the rider, so the "front" of the bag faces the rear of the bike. It's a bit smaller than most bags of this style, about 6" x 7" x 5". Construction is of X-pac fabric, with a recycled sailcloth lining. The interior is fully lined, and has a hidden, removable stiffener made of coroplast forming four sides of the bag.  Off the bike, it can be worn as a fanny pack or over the shoulder like a messenger bag. 

Here's the tour:

Front, with a 40mm buckle closure

Right side features an external pocket with velcro closure 

Left side features a simple line of daisy chain, for my mini tripod, and the waist belt tucked around

Top with four lash-points for stuff...

Back view, showing the waist belt/shoulder strap

Bottom view, showing the velcro which straps the bag down to my front rack 

Open: the interior has five pockets in addition to the main internal volume of the bag. These are a voluminous zippered lid pocket for camera bits, a big side pocket for my camera, a thin back pocket for my wallet, a thin left pocket, and an external-ish pocket on the front which is covered by the main flap. 

A gusset keeps water out while the lid is closed, and stops it flopping all the way forwards when open

Generous waist belt tucks into a hidden sleeve on the front of the bag, behind the front pocket

As side-release buckles are very hard to close one-handed, I added a loop of elastic which hooks over the top buckle, which can be done one-handed. 

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Tools for a Mobile Bike Shop

Here are the right tools for the job, in my opinion, if the job happens to be an extended bike tour in South America. Many people would carry less, a few would carry more. Of course, there is little point in carrying a tool you don't know how to use!

1) 2x inner tubes

2) adjustable wrench (spanner), fits pedals, axle nuts, crank puller

3) zip ties

4) extra chain links

5) random nuts and bolts (more on frame)

6) spare brake cable (doubles as spare shifter cable)

7) mini bottle chain lube, rag

8) bottom bracket tool (doesn't fit in my little wrench, but a wrench is easier to find than a bb tool!)

9) crank puller

10) 2x sets of disc brake pads

11) home made chainring bolt tool

12) 2 tire levers (plus a third on multitool)

13) repair kit (lighter, cord, superglue)

14) sewing kit (needle, thread, safety pins, silnylon fabric scrap)

15) extensive patch kit

16) Torx and Allen keys for brake pad and eccentric bottom bracket adjustment, respectively

17) multitool (includes chain tool and spoke wrenches)

Not shown: 2 spare spokes and nipples (one each of the two lengths I have on my wheels), presta-to-schrader adapter (because as we learned in Norway last summer, its easy to find a pump, but hard to find a presta pump!), spare Shimano Alfine shifter cable bolt thingy, gorilla tape on a a full sized frame-mount pump, and a Leatherman with pliers, cable cutters, file etc. 

Bike nerds: you are welcome. Everyone else, I hope you found it at least intriguing! 

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There's Nothing Like the Right Tool for the Job

This one's a bit of a ramble, part philosophy, part documentary.

Postyn and my Iceland trip almost went very differently (and badly!) because of lack of a couple key bike tools. We found ourselves pushing our bikes along a rough dirt road in Iceland's interior, the nearest bike shop three day's ride the way we had come.

Just walking our bikes through Iceland's interior, as one does

My bike was unrideable, and I was without two important tools to fix it. I needed a bottom bracket tool to tighten my bottom bracket, which had worked so loose that it was binding against the crank arm. That adjustment requires removing the cranks, using a crank puller. Without those tools, we were lucky to be able to improvise with a rock for a crank puller, and the screwdriver tools of two different Leathermen for a bottom bracket tool.

Not a bottom bracket tool

However, the bottom bracket didn't get fully tight and my cranks look like someone attacked them with a rock. Which, ahem, someone did...I was able to limp through the rest of the trip, but had to repeat the whole ordeal a second time part way through.

When I first began working on bikes, I didn't really have any bike tools. In 2010 I built a bamboo bike, which I then rode for two months across France and Spain. I documented the trip here, and the build process here.

On that project, I used a hammer to remove my cranks, a hammer and a file to remove the headset, and a hammer and a screwdriver to remove the bottom bracket. Is there a trend there? Should I bring a hammer to South America?

Since then, however, I've been spoiled for tools. At Williams, I had the Purple Bike Coalition shop (which over the years I was involved, built up a good set of tools, including many that can be replaced by a hammer, but really shouldn't!). I also had access to the machine shop and the sculpture shop, and was on good enough terms with the people running them that I could pretty much come in and borrow or use tools any time. At Williams, I built, or helped build three other bikes.

The first was the steel 29" touring bike that I will be riding in South America.

Here she is, just after being built up. Practically nude! Many more dings and scratches since then.

The second, along with Ben Corwin and Will Wichersky, was a tall bike.

The third, with Matthew Goss, was this BMX-based cargo bike.

Small but mighty -- for its maiden voyage I carried one human (on the front rack) and three six-packs of cider (on the back)!

Williams was not the type of place that encouraged practical, hands-on learning. The opposite, in fact. But that's not to say that opportunities aren't there, if you don't mind looking around corners or reading between the lines.

 I built my blue bike as an extended Winter Study project, advised by an art professor. It was thus a "sculpture" project -- art is allowed at Williams, just not craft! The project would have been completely infeasible had I not befriended Gary, the guy who ran the sculpture shop, who taught me how to braze. And likewise Michael, who ran the science departments' machine shop, who allowed me free reign in an incredibly equipped machine shop, and put many hours into helping me with the project. I really was spoiled, not by Williams as an official institution, but by the people there who helped me bend the rules, and by the huge, huge wealth the college has, which paid for all the "right tools."

Moral of the story? There is nothing like the right tool for the job, but that is nothing without someone to teach you how to use it. Other moral of the story: I'm bringing lots of bike tools to South America!

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Independent Living in Cochabamba

Well my title may be a little misleading, as I have not moved out of my host family's home as it may make you think. Here's the fam (plus Lenka, at whose house I spend nearly as much time!) at the SIT farewell dinner:

Why a farewell dinner already? You may wonder. Well, we have finally reached the final stage of the program: the month of independent research! The options are pretty much endless for this project, as long as you stay in Bolivia, tell SIT where you're living, and remember to check in with our director twice a week so they know you're alive. My situation has not changed much: I am still living with my host family, hanging out with the same friends, and seeing Heidi, the director, every once in a while. I decided back in October that our time in Cochabamba during this semenster was really too short and that I'd rather stay in the same place and deepen my friendships here than go somewhere new and try to enter a whole new community in just a few short weeks! So far, two weeks in, I am pretty happy with that decision!

One of the great things about this open month is that there are no scheduled meetings of the group! So even though there are 7 other students in Cochabamba as well, I can choose whether I want to see them or not! For me, this means that I am finally getting some freedom from English-speaking and American culture because I can spend all my time with my Bolivian friends instead of having to go to group classes and excursions! I've really been enjoying that element of freedom and trying to spend a lot of time with the people I've met, and keep meeting, here.

The fateful Halloween night!

Well, I would be spending all my time with people here, but a shocking change has occurred in my life! For the whole semenster until Sunday night, the wifi in my house has been pretty terrible, and I have had to go stand in the corner of the kitchen in order to pick up a decent signal. But on Sunday night, when I returned to my room from the kitchen and continued using my iPad, I realized that the wifi symbol did not disappear! I was shocked. How could the wifi magically have become so powerful? I immediately called my mom to Skype, then watched Netflix for the first time in nearly three months! 

The next day, when I told my host mom the unbelievable experience of the night before, she chuckled and simply said, "Oh, I moved the router into the dining room." What???? I've been awkwardly standing in the kitchen for three months and we could have just moved the router?? I guess I should've asked about that earlier. So anyway, I now have Internet in my room, which is a great temptation to surf the web and chat with Adie all the time. But I am trying not to get too carried away! Frankly, it was probably a good thing that I didn't have it for most of the semester because I spent my time in other ways!

**News update: before I had a chance to finish this post, our internet went whack for a few days, so now my host mom has returned the router to the original location and is afraid to move it. I don't think the problem had anything to do with the location, it did not resolve until more than a day after she moved it back, but nevertheless, it looks like I will be back to standing in the kitchen for the duration!

But in happier news, I am now borrowing a smartphone from Lenka so that I can participate in the primary means of communication here: whats app. Basically it's an app that sends texts and calls through the Internet, either wifi or cellular data. Pretty much all cell use is pay-as-you-go here, and data is much cheaper than regular calls/texts, so nearly everyone uses whats app at this point. Not knowing this beforehand, I did not bring my iPhone with me, so I've been out of the loop for most of the semester. But know that's changed and I'm suddenly bombarded with messages all day! If anyone feels like chatting, download whats app on your phone and we can message for free!

Lots of photo-sharing occurs over this app, and the phone saves all of them automatically! A bit overwhelming. 

And in even happier news, I joined a pool this week! The system of entry is very strict, there is very little space, but with the help of Lenka's grandmother I was able to get in! You're assigned an hour and go five days a week. There are five lanes, divided by ability level, with an instructor for each one, who gives the drills. It's been years since I felt like I was in a sports practice! Somehow I managed to make it into the top group of my hour, which is 12 people in one lane. It's very much like being in a team setting! And I'm finally learning butterfly, something I've always wanted to do! My hour is 12-1, so immediately after I rush home on my bike and eat a heaping lunch! I think I've surprised my family by how much I can put away, not that I wasn't eating twice as much as them before starting at the pool! They're a pretty sedentary group. I wish I could've been swimming all semester, but with the very irregular class/travel schedule that we had, it really wouldn't have been possible. At least I'm getting to make use of my swim cap and goggles that I brought for this last month!

Still going out for Sunday rides when we can!

I will write another post soon about what I've been up to for my independent project. But as a brief summary, I have taken to biking all over the city, talking to people, observing any and all cyclists, and gaining a better sense of what it takes to maneuver through the streets of Cochabamba! Then there are all the events and interviews and bike routes and meetings that I am going to. So far, it's been a lot of fun. And hard to believe that there are only two weeks left until the program ends and Adie arrives! Well, actually Adie is arriving first, but I'm planning to sneak him in to wherever we're having the evaluation retreat for a night or two. 

A relatively small group from one of the nighttime rides. I'm in the middleish with white helmet, backpack and blue shirt. 

Ciao!

Lucy

 

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Projects: MYOG tool roll

So this is the first of probably a bunch of posts on similar subjects: this autumn, in preparation for heading down to Bolivia to meet Lucy for our bike trip, I have been working on a bunch of gear/bike/sewing projects.

Here is the first of them, a tool roll made of recycled sail cloth.



The material is actually from an old ripped Laser sail that we had lying around--it's fun to work with  a fabric that has some history to it! I have made a few items from sailcloth recently, including a trendy duffel bag for my sister, complete with sail numbers and an interior lined with old spinnaker fabric.

But going back to the tool roll, it is held closed by a strap, in this case a great G3 stretchy rubber ski strap. This means it can be strapped to the underside of my saddle when out for a day ride, or live in a pannier while touring. The tool roll wraps around an inner tube (I'll be carrying a second one in South America, which also fits).


The adage "a place for everything and everything in its place" comes to mind. In the middle of the roll is a decent sized zip pocket. This holds all my odds and ends, and provides a core to wrap the rest of the roll around.



One great advantage of making your own stuff is that you know exactly what it needs to do.


I developed the pattern for this tool roll by gathering together everything that would go in it, and playing with different 2d and 3d arrangements. Consequently, there is almost no wasted space, and the whole things rolls up like a dream.



As you can see, a lot of stuff fits in this little tool roll! More on what tools I am bringing in another post.

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Halloween in Bolivia

Before I begin my Halloween story, here's a photo that captures the general sentiment of our time in the department of Santa Cruz:

Photo by Emily Wyler, who collapsed onto the fourth bed immediately after. 

Also, I finally had cause to take a family photo for the farewell dinner we had this week (the program's not over, just some students are headed to other cities for their independent projects). Here we are:

My sister Faby on the left, me, my host mom, Ginez, and my host aunt, Charo.  (We didn't even plan the color coordination!)

Now onto the post. The popularity of Halloween here has taken off in the past couple years, mostly with costume parties, but trick-or-treating is starting too. The traditional holiday of this period is Todos Santos, which is more comparable to Day of the Dead in Mexico. The idea is to celebrate own's deceased by preparing tables with their favorite foods and symbolic pastries and by going to the cementary to clean and pray at their graves.There is also a tradition in which children go from house to house, enter and pray for the deceased, and receive masas, pastries, in exchange. So this element is like trick-or-treating a bit, though more spiritual and with better quality treats! 

My host family does not participate in Todos Santos, so I didn't get a great sense of what other elements it can entail. But I was lucky enough to participate in a costumed bike route, sponspored by one of the mountain bike clubs and the environmental office of the city government! The event was a mix of Halloween and Todos Santos, all on bikes! The idea was to promote the use of bikes and the recuperation of the traditional holiday. Perfect material for my research project!

A gigantic representation of one of the classic masas, a tantawawa, which represents the soul of the deceased. 

Lenka, Oscar and I showed up in costume of course!

There were over one hundred people, with more than half dressed up. The route was designed so that we would pass by 6 bike shops and stop at each one to receive masas and sweets! Some even had a traditional table for Todos Santos set up. It was great fun, riding through the nighttime city, in a great caravan of all ages, shocking the passersby. Definitely the best Halloween experience I've had, because it was on a bike of course!

Afterward, there was a costume show, and we all received metals (actual metal, not plastic!) and discount cards to a bike shop! 

So that night, Friday, was the best Halloween experience, certainly that I've had in a long time! The following morning began the worst part. I'm sure there are plenty of kids out there who have gotten sick from eating too much Halloween candy, but I was never one of them. I was the one who made it to the next Halloween with candy still in my lock box from the last year! 

But this year, Halloween had it out for me. I woke up Saturday morning with a bout of diarrhea, which probably should have given me some alarm, but a little diarrhea here and there feels like the norm at this point. So I headed out with Lenka and Oscar anyway, to bike to Oscar's dad's bicycle "shop" in the bike section of the market. I started to feel pretty exhausted during the ride, and, when we arrived at the corner where we were going to breakfast, was certain that I had no appetite. What a shame because breakfast was a heaping plate of the most deliciously-cooked quinoa, with fava beans, potates and shredded cheese, all for 5 bolivianos (about 75 cents)! 

After Lenka and Oscar ate, we hopped back on our bikes to go another block or two to the bike stand. That's when it all went downhill fast. My head started to cloud over, my ears filling with fuzz and the world taking on a slow-motion quality. I made it to the middle of the street behind Lenka when she crossed, but there my vision went totally black! I called out to Lenka and apparently tried to blindly cross the second side of traffic. But I felt someone's arms grab me, pull me off my bike, and sit me down on the curb of the median! Turns out it was a stranger crossing the street, who bought me a lollipop, then continued on his way. Sitting in the middle of the street, I gradually regained my full consciousness and made it to a pharmacy for a peptobismol, then the public bathroom.

I then sat for the next three hours or so with Oscar's dad at his stand. It was actually a great spot because I was able to observe the flow of the bike market and chat with Oscar's dad about his history of working with bikes. And he replaced a part that's been giving me trouble with my saddle!

Once I was feeling more energetic, Lenka and I set out for home. Unfortunately, I had to ride my bike back because I couldn't just abandon it, and when I got to Lenka's house, my energy was drained once again. I slept a few hours in her bed, tried to eat dinner but had absolutely no appetite, then went home in a taxi, got in bed at 7pm, and slept nearly straight-through until 11 the next morning! Talk about being wiped! I spent the rest of that day chilling in bed, gradually regaining my appetite, then went to sleep hoping to feel better the next day.

As luck would have it, I woke up feeling great! And starving! So, at 10am, when my friends showed up ready to go on a biking adventure, of course I had to accept. Five of us headed to the town of Sipe Sipe, a relatively flat 25km away. And I felt good all day! Though it was probably wish that I declined to partake of the traditional beverage of the town, guarapó, which is a fermented fruit (alcoholic) drink. 

Here's the gang hanging out in the Plaza Principal!

What we really go for: to take goofy photos!

Lenka remarked near the end of the ride that we are the worst cyclists in Cochabamba: we leave late, spend most of the day eating/drinking, then are lucky if we make it back before dark! But really, who doesn't want to make a Sunday outing (or Monday in this case, because it was a holiday) a whole-day affair?! Isn't that what bike touring is? So I am happy to have found a group of medium-hard core cyclists because I've certainly been able to explore a lot of the area but also relax and connect as friends because of it.

Unfortunately, my rapid return to health did not last, and my diarrhea took a turn for the worse a few days later. I was prepared to call the doctor today, but my digestion finally seems to be improving, as of yesterday. Such is the life for us gringos here.

Ciao,

Lucy

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Long Day Hike

Last weekend, my Dad and I went on a long day hike on the Coast Path. We began walking at 8:30 and walked back to our house, arriving around sunset, 5:00pm. We figure the hike was about 18 (hilly!) miles. Here it is in pictures.

We left the car on the side of the road in Crackington Haven

Tim looking dapper in khaki shorts. Oh, and a view. 

Can't beat the coast path for views. Full time views.

The air was hazy, probably because it was so warm -- almost 70 degrees on the first of November!

We WERE both on this hike.

Hot enough to stop for ice cream in the afternoon. My beard is coming along.

Biggest mushroom I have ever seen.

The home stretch, above our closest beach, Tregardock.

The following day, we finished the adventure by cycling back to Crackington Haven to pick up the car. 

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The Other Side of Bolivia Part 2

Well, I'm back to continue the story of my time in the department (read: state) of Santa Cruz. 

First, a photo of the couple who hosted me in Santa Rita:

After our stay in the community of Santa Rita, we made the trek back to the city of Santa Cruz: six sweaty, sticky hours in a bus, where the breeze is life-saving but also barely tolerable because of the hot, humid air that it slams into your face. The initial bus ride to the town had been tolerable because I slept the whole way after staying up the night before (how did that become a tradition with my friends?) but this time no sleep was in reach. So when we arrived at the hotel in Santa Cruz, I ran straight for the pool and jumped straight in without even bothering to put a bathing suit on! What a relief! I proceeded to continue this trend every time that we returned to the hotel during the next two days spent in the city.

 Our time in the city was very short, and we barely got to know the central district before heading to our next destination. The city is organized in concentric rings, and only once did we leave the center of the innermost ring, so I wouldn't say that I know the city at all. But we did get to eat some tasty Japanese food - how happy was I to see kimchi on the menu! - and met someone who organizes a cycling movement of Santa Cruz. Oh, and we went to the first shopping mall of Bolivia, a trip that I did not enjoy because if you don't like shopping malls in the States, then you won't like them in Bolivia either. 

Our final stay was in the town of Samaipata, 3ish hours to the west of Santa Cruz, in the foothills of the Andes. The town has become a mecca for environmentally-conscious folk from around the world who are seeking a place to live out their ideals. There over 100 organic farms, countless permaculture and alternative therapy retreat centers, and lots of bioconstruction. At the same time though, there is still the local population that was there before the immigration began, and we got the sense that there is a fairly significant divide between the two populations. However, we really only interacted with the "immigrant" side while we were there, so I don't feel like I developed a very well-rounded perspective on the dynamics in the town. 

We were able to spend an entire day of our stay hiking in the national park that borders the town! This was an incredible experience because it is home to one of the world's few remaining Jurassic-era forests! Imagine yourself surrounded by giant ferns and 1,000 year old trees - pretty amazing!

Giant fern! They have trunks like trees but open up into a more normal-looking fern at the top.

Looking up the spiny trunk of one of the giant ferns.

The trunk of one of the anciant trees, in the eucalyptus family. They grow super slowly, thus look similar in size to a maple but are many times their age.

The yellow fruits on this plant are so poisonous that you will die if you eat them!

It was wonderful to get out in the mountains and hike for a day finally! And to have a biologist as a guide made it even better. Unfortunately the protected areas of Bolivia are protected by name but woefully underprotected in practice so there is infiltration in many of them by agriculturalists and loggers. Even during our hike, we came across a number of cows wandering through the brush, which is extremely damaging in such a fragile, unique environment. And just this year, President Evo Morales issued a decree that all protected areas can be opened for hydrocarbon exploration and extraction. So  even the "protected by name" element is losing it's significance! Our experience here in Bolivia has definitely shown us how empty  of meaning "official discourse" can be.

After a few more days of delicious food - so many fresh veggies! - and visits to various interesting initiatives, we headed back to Cochabamba. Now I'll be staying here until the end of the program! It's nice to know that for the whole month ahead I will be in one place, and on my own for the most part as we are about to start our independent research projects.

Next up: the story of my best and worst Halloween weekend.

Ciao,

Lucy

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Bike Touring Scotland

After returning from Iceland in mid-August, I had a 10 day break from bike touring before heading up to Scotland with my old friend Will.

The plan was roughly 3 weeks cycling north along the West Coast and islands, starting in Glasgow. My photo-taking was a bit lax on this trip, so some days I simply didn't take any (worth posting). Consequently, I will do this one a bit differently: one long post with lots of pictures and not much text.

Here goes!

We cycled straight out of Glasgow on an NCN route, to the coast, where we caught a ferry to Arran. We cooked dinner outside Brodick castle, then camped in its woods. It rained heavily that night and the following morning, so we booked it north to the Mull of Kintyre (via a ferry onto the mainland). This is the view from our second night's camp site, on a high headland near Killberry

People warned us about the midges in Scotland. We thought we were prepared, with bug head nets and insect repellent. 

Sunset from our private headland on the Mull of Kintyre. Wild camping is legal in Scotland, but not all the places we wild-camped were ones where it was legal ;-)

After Killberry, we spend two nights at Will's aunt Mary's house in Easedale, then biked to Oban, and took a ferry onto the isle of Mull. A half-day's cycle later, we got to Thomasleibhe, a bothy maintained for the free use of cyclists and walkers. 

Only 5 miles (and almost all rideable) from the road, it felt infinitely more isolated. We had the entire glacial valley and the basic but enjoyable accommodation of the bothy, completely to ourselves. It was so good we decided to eke out our food and stay two nights!  

The morning after arriving at Thomasleibhe, we hiked up the peak visible in the background of the previous photo, Beinn Taleidh. Unfortunately cloud swallowed the summit

Below the clouds. The bothy is just this side of the two tree plantations, from which we harvested several downed trees for the bothy's wood store.

Sunset on our second evening at Thomasleibhe. It was a beautiful sunny afternoon, which we spent mostly sat against the outside wall of the bothy, reading.

From Thomasleibhe we continued cycling north-west on Mull, through Salen, and then round the north coast of Mull, which was hilly, but pretty. This is Calgary beach, which was beautiful but the weather had turned cold. 

We reached Tobermory in the late afternoon, and then took a ferry to the almost-nonexistent town of Kilchoan, and began looking for a spot to camp. We found this, just a couple hundred yards from the road. Oh Scotland, how you spoil us!

The following morning was showery and chilly, so we stopped for an overpriced (but worth it?) cream tea. By lunch it had cleared a bit. This is the slipway at Salen (not the same Salen as the one on Mull).  Our aim for the evening was another bothy, called Peanmeanach, so we continued on with pretty riding along Loch Ailort.

 After spotting the turning for Peanmeanach, we struggled with the bikes down an unrideable path, before ditching them and continuing on with our panniers. After doing1 of 3.5 miles to the bothy, we gave up and camped here, right next to the shore. We had a chilly dip in the sea before dinner. That night we almost had a great mishap, as the site we originally pitched the tent flooded as the tide rose! Thankfully we had thought better of our original site, but the water was still only feet from the tent. 

In the morning we battled our way back uphill with bags and bikes -- tiring and frustrating. Then continued north against a strong headwind, past Arisaig, and had lunch at this spot, on the so-called "Silver Sands of Morar." From there, we headed a inland to Loch Morar 

We were in search of a headland on the north side of the Loch, described as being a couple hundred feet from the path, and a half-day's-walk-for-a-9-year-old beyond the end of the road. This was the very spot, about 50 years earlier, where my dad, aged 11, led his younger brothers Chris and Nick on their first independent camping trip! It was exactly as described, if a half-day's-walk-for-a-9-year-old is only about 500m!

As they had, we pitched the tent right up on the headland, with sweeping views of the loch. We washed our clothes and ourselves in the chilly loch. While Will went for a run, I read my book and admired the view. The site was very midgy, but by this time, our midge-avoidance techniques had improved. Will's aunt had given us citronella incense, which we would burn in the entrance to the tent before getting in or out. With this technique, you might only let 10 or 20 midges inside each time!  

From Morar we biked to Mallaig where 1) Will bought two whole smoked kippers, and 2) we caught a ferry to Skye. Onboard, we ate very messy and odiferous kipper sandwiches, which drew a lot of looks. Then we biked north on Skye, aiming for yet another bothy, which we knew to be 2.5 miles from the road. We reached the trailhead late, around 6pm, but decided to try the trail and if it were too rough, camp alongside. It was indeed rough, and we pushed our bikes almost a mile, to the top of the ridge separating us from the bothy. Will managed to convince me several times to just keep going. 

It was worth it. We ditched the bikes at the ridge, and headed down on foot, accompanied by a stunning light show as the sun poked out from behind the racing clouds. 

This is the view from the bothy, Camisunary, which lies right on the coast, in a huge glacial valley, at the foot of the dramatic Cuillen Hills. That night we shared the bothy with a young chap named Harry. He had hiked, alone, over the Cuillens that day, in complete cloud cover, rain, and strong wind. Poor chap. For dinner, we made a surprisingly tasty pasta carbonara alla kipper! 

Yep, that's the bothy. In the morning, we decided to spend a second night there, so embarked on a hike in the Cuillens. We walked right along the coast on a path round the nearest headland. After warming up, we went for a quick dip in the ocean, then sunned ourselves dry (although it was perhaps a bit cold for that - some pushups were involved). 

The Cuillens are spectacularly beautiful with 1000m+ peaks rising straight out of the ocean, and we were blessed with the perfect weather. The day before, Harry saw none of this! For someone who loves mountains, and loves the sea, this was heaven. After our successful hike, we returned to the bothy, read on the beach, and collected driftwood for the fire. That afternoon, a friday, a constant stream of people arrived at the bothy. Some were forced to camp outside, but spent the evening inside. In total, there were 18 or so people -- now we realized why this bothy was described as "popular." Fair enough, the views are worth it! We spent the evening chatting and drinking other people's whisky, after claiming pole position in front of the fire. A different sort of bothy experience, for sure

The following morning, we hiked out, then got back on the bikes and finished the last of our food - two pieces of salami each. We then headed north, stocked up on food in Broadford, then looped around to the western coast of Skye. After a night there, we headed back east to Portree, then north to a campsite near Staffin. This was the only time we paid for accommodation in the 3 week trip. After a relaxing evening which included *gasp* a shower, the next morning we rose early and biked unloaded to the foot of the Quiraing.

The Quiraing are on the left of this photo...hidden in the mist. They are a series of around 20 grotesquely shaped volcanic rock towers, which in fact were well suited by the misty, mysterious atmosphere. We clambered around for 45 minutes before bombing back down to our campsite, packing up, and heading south. 

 INTERLUDE:

We had a few day's left of our planned 3 week trip, and had run out of Skye. Instead of continuing to the Outer Hebrides, we decided to head inland to the Highlands to finish off our trip. So, from Staffin, we biked all the way down Skye over the course of 24 hours, a distance which had taken us almost a week on the way up. Mind you, the previous time we had taken just about every detour possible, and spent two nights at Camisunary. Unfortunately, the northerly wind which we had been cycling against for two weeks chose this exact moment to turn southerly, so we still had a headwind! Nevertheless, the weather was just beautiful, and with views to match. We took the ferry back to Mallaig, then hung out for several hours before catching a train to Rannoch Station, one of the more desolate train stations in the UK.

We left Rannoch Station and rolled less than a mile downhill to a beautiful highland campsite.

 The following day was actually one of the best day's cycling of the trip. We had a tailwind, and sun, and the roads were almost devoid of cars -- which in contrast to the rather busy roads of the islands was fantastic. I didn't take very many photos that day, perhaps I was too busy enjoying life! The day encompassed loch-side riding, river-side riding, and two long climbs. We camped at the top of the second one, an exposed site next to the small Loch na Lairige. The strong wind meant for perhaps the first night's camping -- no midges!

The following morning we gave up our plan of climbing the 1200m Ben Lawers, as the cloud ceiling was too low. Instead we headed up the ridge on the other side of our camp, which was a much more modest peak, and mostly below the clouds so at times we did have views better than that shown above. Back at camp, we picked and ate delicious bilberries (a relative of blueberries)

 The ridge was, however, incredibly windy. Check out Will playing in the wind below.

After our hike, we had a roaring descent down to Loch Tay, and then biked along the loch for the afternoon. We lucked out and found this spectacular loch-side campsite, simply by following an unmarked but promising dirt track towards the loch. Ben Lawers is visible across the loch, just above Will's head. Our previous night's campsite is in the notch to the left of Ben Lawers.

The following morning we woke to rain, and a distinct chill in the air. We breakfasted and read in the tent until 11am before accepting that the rain would not stop. So we packed up and headed out. With driving rain and steady wind, we were soon very cold, but we had to do a minimum of 30 miles that day in order to make our train back at Rannoch Station the following day. We ate a shivering lunch at a bus shelter, jumping up and down, pretend boxing, and generally acting foolish in order to keep what little warmth we had left. We finally reached the long climb up to the shoulder of Schiehallion, and I can say I have never been so relieved to start up a big hill. We had both been fantasizing all day about how warm it would be! We camped on the other side of Schehallion, in an old quarry next to the road, and had a surprisingly tasty dinner of pasta with leek and creme fraiche. The following morning we cycled back to Rannoch station, made sandwiches in the station's visitor center, then hopped on a train back to Glasgow.

Overall, a superb trip with a good balance of hard days, easy days, lazy mornings, bothies, midge-management, views, swims, climbs, descents and strange food concoctions! It was also great to spend so much time with Will. We have known each other for about a decade, but there is nothing like spending 24 hours a day within 5 feet of someone for weeks on end to make sure you really do want to be friends with them!

Fin 

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