I rode up Misty Law and all I got was Lyme disease!
Found a tick attached to my ankle last night after I got out the shower
Last night was a hoot. Not the best of starts though, a steep tarmacy climb out of Lochwinnoch, followed by a puncture for Gazz and the descent of the inevitable midgie cloud. Then spent a pleasant hour or so trockling about marshy fields charmingly blanketed in sheep shite, while we searched for the start of the elusive path to the top of Misty Law. After much throwing of bikes and selves over gates and trenches, Jimi and myself positioned ourselves on top of a small hill while Gazz and Kaiser set off in opposite directions in search of the road to mountain biking nirvana. While worrying some of the local livestock Gazz stumbled across the elusive track, and after some inscrutable arm waving and hand gestures, the remainder of the Macretro massive got the message and united as one we forged onwards and upwards.
The track itself varied between part-time rocky river bed, dry and sandy, marshy mud with black puddles that may or may not have been wheel suckingly deep, and stony scree-like climbs and descents where traction was at a minimum. Definitely not a boring climb then, with enough variation in the track to keep you on your toes. As the evening wore on and the clouds rolled over, Misty Law seemed to remain stubbornly nailed to the horizon. Muttering 'Blair Witch Mountain Biking Project' under our breaths, and wondering if anyone had brought some fire, the path turned away from the hill, allowing us to sneak up on the bloody thing from the side and then finally take it unawares with a scramble up to the summit. Bikes arranged in a rectangle around the small cairn, photoes were taken (unfortunately), chocolate consumed, views admired and crap talked.
As the light began to dim, we began the descent, with Gazz bravely forging his own path in completely the wrong direction. The rest of us set off safe in the knowledge that his uncanny navigational sense would surely kick in and keep him right, although possibly not until he saw the sign for Largs. What a superb run back towards Lochwinnoch. Rocky, bumpy with hands and fingers turned half numb, the horrible slippy climbs became sketchy descents - the front end constantly in danger of washing out on the sliding scree underneath. Definitely a couple of brown lycra moments on the bends, trying to scrub off speed without disappearing over the edge. The descent levelled out and we continued on a (still) fast and wet run through puddles and over rock, interrupted only by the need to stop and hike-a-bike around the worst of the mud and marsh. Jimi and myself got stuck closing a couple of gates towards the end of the run as 'car park dash' was uttered, and the psychological warfare began. A final, eye-wateringly fast descent on the singletrack tarmac back to the village, complete with blind bends and gravel mid-corner. Urged on by Gazz and in my best aero tuck, I big ringed towards victory - not even the car obviously pre-arranged by Kaiser to slow us down by driving at 15mph while fixing his hair in the rear view mirror could stop me now.
Superb evenings ride, and the chips afterwards were no bad either!