May 3, 2025
Saturday
The same headwind today, and a keen chill up on the exposed hilltop. With my left pedal having developed an annoying squeak on every pedal stroke.
The Komoot route shows a biker-hike section ahead. And as I didn't fancy pushing, it was time for a detour. I backpedal to the fork and take the right to descend to leafy green valley; to the small village New Luce, where I go left and return up to exposed hilltop; and after a few miles the road swings right to rejoin the route at a point where a grassy lane comes down the hillside to the left. Easy.
Squeak, squeak, squeak. I thought that I should be getting used to the squeaky pedal. It was having a detrimental effect on my peace of mind. The Kona is perfect and this noise spoils the show. I stop and smear chain lube around the left pedal axle, but it so far isn't having any effect.
The track ahead has open moorland on the left with parallel train lines off at a distance where bare hills rear up. There is a pine plantation rising steeply to the right and further on, as it gives out to two vehicle ruts the blue line of the Komoot map turns sharp right and I climb up through a tunnel of pine trees.
The way levels out and I enter a large wind farm. The whirling howl of wind turbine sails are omnipresent; as are moving stripy shadows they cast turning over the much improved and widened gravel road which up ahead has a trail of dust stirred up. A bit further on to the right a new branch service road is under construction and I meet one then a second huge dumper-truck. Each slow and pull well over to the other side, perhaps to minimise covering me in fine rock flour. A third dumper-truck passes followed by a pickup truck that slows to a halt. The driver, a foreman is not happy with me cycling here and got on a walkie talkie and says there is a mountain biker on the road, what ill I do? After a moment the radio crackles and a deep uninteligible voice speaks, sounding positive and the foreman signs off "tickety-boo"
The name's Stevie by the way. There's just me, the misses and the dog live together in the country. I'm dressed like an onion today, as the wind up here is raw; to empathise he tugs at a green hoodie enclosing his face under a white hardhat and worn underneath an orange hi-vis jacket. I go mountain biking mayself, when I get a chance, but would love to be doing what you are doing. Are you camping?
I show Stevie on my phone where I'd camped last night and the Faultline route I am following and picking up his phone asks to take my photo with the Kona, which I happily pose for.
Before continuing Stevie gives me a description of the gravel road back to the quarry where the trucks are coming from. It really was not too far then, having met a few more trucks until the grey rocky cutaway hillside and dust with the yellow excavator arm moving come into view. Beyond the quarry the traffic cease and a nice flowing gravel road descends for quite a few miles, eventually meeting a tarmac road. A road I recognise having ridden it last year, the NCN 7. I go left. It being fine weather and the weekend, there was quite a few cars on this road.
It was warm down in the valley and after going right at a fork, I pull off into a grassy spot that would make a great campsite. Previous visitors had already built a campfire with stones around blackened ash. I boil water for tea and ate a cheese sandwich.
After a rest I continue and approaching evening I turn off along a forest drive leading to a large lake, Loch Doon, accessible to vehicular traffic from the opposite side which meant that most of the prime lochside campsites were taken. However, it is a long loch and I persevere and eventual come to a level grassy spot on the water's edge where I pitch the tent.
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