As if more proof were needed, once again a Sunday Trail Centre ride proved to be the least popular choice for the majority of Club members with only nine turning out for this one on Sunday 4th October 2009. A beautiful clear morning with no sign of the previous day's gales or troubled sky just wasn't enough temptation.

Those who did arrive at the Cave for 08:00 were Mick, Steve B, Steven W, Tony, Keith, Chris K, Jay, Terry K and Ride Leader Ian B. Good to have Jay back in the saddle after a traumatic time lately with front forks on his Giant Reign. And nice that Keith discovered a slight stumbling block with the Nomad's forks in time to correct it for today's ride.

Before I forget - Ian B finally got his much-belated Birthday present from us today - just got to show him how to wield CO2 bottles now!

The sky stayed clear all the way over west as we pulled in to the car park at Jedburgh, where the toilet stop turned into High Breakfast at the local pig killer. That cost us quite a bit of time when the Gollum insisted on having a specially carcinogenic version of a bacon sarnie manufactured after everyone else had eaten their still-wriggling offerings. But at least the place had its distractions.

We arrived at Innerleithen under that same cloudless canopy around 10:45 and were off behind Ian to climb that manifestly murderous first climb, which of course had Mick's lips squirting expectantly. When we got there he took off up the thing like a scalded cat - isn't ignorance bliss?

We dragged ourselves up this infamous climb but when the rear guard reached the fireroad rest point, the three up front had vanished, and we guessed in probably the wrong direction! That indeed proved to be the case, so Keith, Steven and Mick missed out on the first section of singletrack - hee, hee - and it was 15 minutes later on the next fireroad when we finally met up again.

The first section of this trail is at least broken up a bit (for those who follow the Ride Leader, at least!) but now there was the mere formality of the indecent haul up to the top of Minch Moor (God, I hate it!) and the breeze up yon was a bit chilly to say the least. Just as we started to get out the sarnies, Ian stopped us and insisted we wait for shelter further down the trail.

Now at this high point, the best word you can hear is "down" so we willingly packed up again and dived onto Ian's tail for the start of one of the best descents in Trail Centre Land. After taking a short rest at the Southern Upland Way where Ian found an old Scottish pal to chat to it was cannonball time again. Great following Stevie B down here today as his relatively cautious return to "balls-out" downhilling sure came to an end here, with poor Ian in front of him being exhausted by Steve's rear end pressure all the way down (careful how you interpret that last bit).

We stopped down below in a nice sunny spot, happy to find that the midges had gone on their autumn holidays. After a nice ten minute break, we issued a warning or three to our newbies about the slight chance of a wipeout at the end of this skinny singletrack drop, but  we all survived it and the only mishap was poor Ian (see how I avoided "poor OLD Ian?) discovering a puncture just through the gate.

We'd already decided after Ian suggested it, not to bother with Plora Craig's rock garden in favour of heading straight past it up the fireroads to get to the top of the Freeride run. Of course the front few overshot the turn signposted "Push Up to All Downhills" so had to backtrack a few metres, much to Chris' displeasure as he fights to regain his fitness. And a jolly push it was but we made it in about 15 minutes and were ready for the Grand Finale.

The first section needed care, as Ian had again warned before we set off, as it was plenty greasy in places under the trees because of the nature of the slope. Once more though, we got down fairly rapidly and all in one piece again - could we make it last though?

Ian and Keith led the next flat out section with plenty of broadsiding and rear wheel slippage going on, but the fun factor was massive. And then we had Caddon Bank still to come! We took the time to walk the new lads down to the second rock drop-off, as something of an indicator as to what to expect lower down.

Then it was time for the Big Man (no, you fool, not me), Ian, to plummet down the mountain as he does so well with the Scrawny One behind seeking revenge for previous misdemeanours. How on earth the tyres survive the pummeling they get at the base of each savage dip in this camel's back of a drop I'll never know, but again they did.

At Base Camp nobody was crying. In fact, there was an air of sublime happiness, like you get eating Sun Pat Crunchy Peanut Butter. (ok, ok). So it was no surprise that Ian's offer of "we could do that again" met with a majority "yes" verdict. So the willing members dutifully began a nice calm push-walk up to the mid-point of Caddon again in the blazing sunlight.

Dire warnings from the Gollum before this one about the lack of taste in the food at Peebles Hospital must have been heeded, as once more we blasted this wonderful helter-skelter without incident and gleefully recalled every take-off and landing when we regrouped in the car park. Ten minutes later we were back at the cars in the Town and heading back for a coffee at one of our fave tearooms in Selkirk, where for the second time today the hills weren't the only thing in the Southern Uplands worth ogling. And the food and drink was also OK.

Inners = climbing, therefore absolutely no surprise that Mick thought this was an excellent place to ride a bike UP on his first ever visit! Steven was also a Cheshire Cat at the bottom.

Home at 18:00 after a frenetic dash back along the A68, one of our quickest ever return trips made a bit more memorable by a combination of driver cramps and a stuck-down throttle pedal in the GollyMobile. Thank you all, Gentlemen, for a brilliant day out and of course Ian for his leadership around one of his favourite stamping grounds again.

and some pix from Tony: