It’s heaven on earth for mountain bikers
ANDY CRONSHAW joines a guided tour on two wheels in the remote scottish highland mountains of Torridon
MOUNTAIN bike on car roof, I set off from a sunny Manchester in May for the legendary mountains of Torridon in the remote Highlands.
In accordance with my preliminary advice from Tom Hutton MTB Guiding that I needed to pack for winter, I threw in some extra layers and a decent pack-away jacket.
But, with the sun beaming down, I also included plenty of light riding tops and T-shirts.
Twenty four hours later, as we completed the two-hour drive from Fort William to reach the Applecross Peninsula, there were icy shards of sleet bearing down on our coach and what felt like a gale-force wind trying to tip it over.
It didn’t look good, and those T-shirts suddenly looked like an optimistic schoolboy error.
Within minutes of this squall, as we went through the usual pre-ride faffing, the sun began to warm our backs.
Our ride across undulating single track from Fenmore to Applecross was disrupted by little more than a light headwind and illuminated by soft spring sunshine.
After haring off up a steep track with Dave, one of the Tom Hutton guides, I found myself blowing hard and slipping back.
Seven years on from the birth of my first child with riding opportunities slimmed down, I’ve collected more than a little extra portage difficulty.
But on a guided experience there is always someone who’s got your back and Tom Hutton, a veteran of the UK mountain bike scene and just a few years my senior, swept up from the rear, occasionally track-standing as he waited for me to attempt a tricky jumble of a climb or, more likely, get off and push.
The weather and the terrain of the remote north west Highlands is not to be taken lightly and our guides’ previous experience and expertise punctuated our safe passage at regular intervals.
The landscape immediately put me in mind of Robert Louis Stevenson’s classic adventure yarn Kidnapped where his story, ‘found us in a prodigious valley, strewn with rocks and where ran a foaming river. Wild mountains stood around it; there grew there neither grass nor trees.’
That description most likely refers to Glencoe, but it stands just as true for Torridon, one of the most remote locations in the UK for hiking, mountain biking and other outdoor adventures.
The village of Torridon itself appears from the hilltop viewpoint as a few blobs of vivid colour dotted on a widescape painting of brutal majesty.
Along the coastline 1,000 metre peaks rise from the sea. And, among the twisting cols and peaks sit hidden corries, or tarns as they are known in the Lake District, ready to delight those who venture there.
As Tom’s partner Steph pointed out, it’s a bit like the Lake District but on steroids.
For mountain biking I’d suggest the area is nothing short of an earthly heaven.
A day later we were circumventing the base of snow-capped Beinn Damh. A chug along the soggy shores of Loch Damh gave us little clue as to what would ensue until a brutal climb lifted us from our starting point at near sea level to a height of 450 metres.
From there was descent which would excite even the most hardened veterans of the Alps and Moab while still offering something to riders with intermediate abilities.
It’s 3km of fabulous singletrack contouring the slopes of this magnificent mountain which only falls short of the Munro classification by a few metres.
At the finale, after a river crossing, the trail wound through the trees and sun-dappled limestone rocks.
The apex of our trip, however, its piece de resistance on day three, was a loop taking in two classic trails: Achnashellach and the descent to Annat.
The former is renowned globally - we even had a fellow rider on the trip who’d travelled from Alabama to ride it.
It really is something that any self-respecting mountain biker needs to tick off her or his to-do list.
The descent can be reached by a relatively benign climb from the road to about 250 metres or, for the truly epic experience, riders can climb up to a high pass at more than 900 metres to Corrie Lair and find a path that starts steep and strewn with rubble before plunging into the valley to meet a crossroads.
Once here, the sinuous singletrack opens out into rocky step downs from rounded, weather-aged blocks of sandstone, at points pitching the rider into tricky turns. It was however, as an old mate was apt to say, ‘all rideable.’
A tarmac haul was necessary to reach the next gruelling ascent.
What comes down must go up and the track winds back slopes on the other side of the valley to meet a junction that fires cyclists down to Annat across some of the most magical mountain bike singletrack in the UK.
As you pitch around a corner the view opens up towards the sea, providing a breathtaking moment that very few trails can beat.
Accommodation for the majority of my trip was provided at Torridon Youth Hostel where I bunked up in a shared room alongside two other riders. Our quarters proved largely to be for sleeping given the extended periods we would spend on the bike.
Andy, a hardy biker from New Mills, who like me, spends time in time riding the hills of the Peak District, had noted that May is the best time for weather in the highlands, offering the best chance of dry conditions and a blissful absence of midges. And this, almost miraculously given the weather on our arrival is how it proved to be.
That said, we were still grateful for the excellent dry room at Torridon Youth Hostel plus the other excellent touches such as bike washing facilities.
Hearty breakfasts were provided by our guides while dinner was taken in the Torridon Inn with decent beer and pub grub and, for one night, at the wonderful Gille Brighde Restaurant at nearby Diabaig.
With front of house taken by Dutch man Aart and the cooking accomplished by his wife Amanda, this place is an absolute must.
There was fresh seafood and fish, venison steaks, great veggie options, craft beer and a decent wine list.
The final twist to our trip was a terrific A to B jaunt along some sunny singletrack in Skye. To say it was scenic might be akin to describing Michelangelo as a decent painter.
Once we’d scaled a climb overlooking the beautiful Camasunary beach we reached the famous path that follows the beautiful glacial valley that is Glen Sligachan.
The path undulates across this magnificent landscape with the Cuillin Ridge as a backdrop.
Despite the lack of altitude gained it’s a cracking ride as the trail pitches up and down, reaching a steady decent as it gets within view of the Sligachan Hotel.
There a delicious a pint from the Cuillin Brewery awaits the thirsty traveller. Or, perhaps for more inclement conditions, the choice of whiskies is one of the largest I’ve ever seen.
From Skye, the bus, ably driven by Graham of the excellent BikeBus Adventures, wound its way back to Fort William where I picked up my car for the journey home.