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Last time here in April there was only Jason and myself. It could have been four today but for an unfortunate "incident" at John's which involved a teenage girl and a grounding. He sounded pretty fed up on the phone about missing the chance to get the Kikapu out in the wilderness. So that left Jason, Andy and myself to renew our acquaintance with the Black Route at Glentress on a cold, wet, windy morning. It wasn't morning any more as we hit the trail at 12.00pm. For the first time I was surprisingly offered the option of parking up the hill at the Buzzard's Nest - these two normally make me ride up from The Hub car park. I took advantage of their kind offer as I knew what state I'd be in at the end of the ride.

Here's a v-e-r-y wet river Tweed behind Innerleithen Startling pic>

We cruised up the hill and again there was a surprise vote taken - in view of the weather - Red route or Black? Having intended to do the Black anyway, and knowing that Andy wanted to stretch the new Scott RC20 (well, actually, not to appear a wimp) I had the casting vote and went for Black. My previous trial here at the hands of Jason resulted in a record time for me, much quicker than ever before. Today however, the conditions, either of Jason, me or the weather, would see a great reduction in overall speed.

We started out in steady rain, but it came and went as the day wore on. The first thing to hit us was sheer cold. We lost the feeling in fingers and toes almost simultaneously at the top of the initial climb and a good bit of walking ensued over the slippery trail. Andy was the exception as his new mount carried him up everything pretty comfortably. He even had the cheek to ride back down the Kipps Loop as we struggled up it. Jason and I both found it a pain to reach the Helly Hansen hut. We stopped there for a short lunch in the rain blizzard until Jay began to freeze up. At least there was a spell of light relief ahead on the Britney Spears section and we zoomed down that pretty rapidly. From my position as rear gunner I couldn't help but notice Andy's increased confidence and extra speed on the Scott over his Specialized mount.

and the view from inside the shelter

All too soon we were climbing again up to the radio Mast, and left you can see Andy's new pal, who followed him up the trail gabbling like they'd always known each other. We blasted straight past the mast and headed for the forest edge and the lush bits of downhill singletrack that weave in and out of the trees on the Goat Track and Boundary Trail. We had a very short stop for the old Gollum to get some breath back at the second hut then it was balls-out again on Deliverance.

That is, until Golly rounded a right hander after the bridge over Horsburgh Hope with a fair bit of lean, and bashed into a pile of six inch rockettes. After letting some air out of his tyres for wet grip at the Mast, it seems the back one was a tad too soft and it exploded with quite a loud bang. A new tube took care of that and we were off after 5 minutes or so.

A wee bit further on after the horrible drag up Redemption we had the pleasure of seeing off the Black Dog just south of the Ewok Village. At the bottom of this fantastic singletrack drop I experienced real arm pump and pain from wrists to shoulders like never before. The other two were similarly affected, maybe a bit less than the Scrawny One. It must have been not only the physical exertion of the descent, but the treacherously wet and slippery surfaces that just took so much more out of us than normal. Strange how mental concentration can show itself as physical exhaustion this way. Fantastic feeling to survive the last four miles at decent speed in crap conditions without injury! Here's Jason's soggy oz

Here's the view back down to the flooded valley floor and a poorly taken one of the Hotel about to be engulfed by the Tweed's mini-tsunami. Andy tries out the latest shelter above Redemption

That only left the Magic Mushroom which we tackled in almost complete darkness with Jason guessing the way ahead. From the end of this we left out the final drop to The Hub and crawled up the fireroad back to the car. Still raining hard, still blowing a gale, still 6 degrees. We risked a cup of coffee and a cake at the cafe as Jason was paying and headed for home around 4.45pm. The ride took us  three and a half hours. Our mad Triathlete reckons he could do it in two - any takers?

photos coming Tuesday...