brechin & montrose

My sister had made me part of the plan to get big Al out the house so Karen could prepare the house for us (socially distanced) friends and family, the plan was myself and nephew Richard would take big al for a long walk, then have a couple (in Scotland a couple of beers could mean a dozen!)of beers at a local boozer, while Karen got help from her other sons kenny and Charlie to put up the gazebos balloons and BBQ, I thoroughly enjoyed this walk along the shore of the river Esk, the river was properly in spate the angry looking fast brown water was scary, the river in spate added A thrill factor to the walk, we went over a shoogly wire bridge then the path was close to the waters edge, a narrow forest track very close at times to an edge where you could fall into that angry river, this walk was part of what’s known as the blue door walk, which is at the border between the districts of Angus and Aberdeenshire, I loved it was great to be out walking instead of cycling also out in company, most great walks end with a walk right into a boozer, once at Ricky’s local in Edzell we were on instructions from Karen not to let Allan have too many, she would text Ricky when the coast was clear for his return for his surprise

Karen and Allen having sold their Scottish home were packing up their belongings into a big white van that they would be driving to Bulgaria soon, they were busy! They still looked after me those few days, Karen making sure I had everything I required, My friend Andrew knew my plans and asked if we could meet for beers in Montrose, I readily accepted that offer and told him a few places he could stay, this was fine with Karen also as her and Allan would join us out for dinner then leave me out on the beer, they could then get on with organising a life’s worth of stuff into one van load, dinner was really good and so was the evening out, it seemed like the world was returning to normal, there was music on and drunk people it wasn’t quiet Mo`fest the excellent towns annual music festival yet, but definitely a step in the right direction

Even though I had gave my nephew kenny the two front panniers of the daunder meaning I was carrying much less, it still as always seemed to take me an age to pack in the morning, perhaps this was due to the rain outside! Karen had checked the weather forecast and said it was going to be on and off rain all day, I wasn’t overly bothered about that I knew this next section of cycling well all the way into Dundee, where I would briefly cycle over the road bridge into a section I had not yet done, putting on the cape almost immediately I set of the back road towards the house of Dun then into Montrose, just before midday

Pondering briefly which part of Scotland I had spent the most time in except home, the town of Montrose is up there, I nearly bought a bar there once I visited that often, family visits and firefighter training mostly, I think it’s a great place I chose my route to pass by some memories as I went through, with Karen and Allen going away and me not doing firefighting will I be back? Montrose basin is a nearly circular tidal basin which makes up part of the estuary of the River South Esk covering 750 hectares, home to over 80,000 migratory birds the water from this basin fills and empties under the railway bridge then the road bridge daily, I smiled as a train went over the rail bridge as I cycled the roadside path over, stopping to text a few former workmates who laugh due to me saying the same stuff on the happy train home as we had end of work beers, I would apparently always say at this point in the journey, I’m texting my sis and did I tell you I nearly bought the bar down there! Very happy memmories

The rain came on heavier as I cycled out and through Ferryden as the road undulated and weaved through farm land, then the wind picked up it wasn’t always in my face but it was never at my back, some of the small rivers had burst their banks, it was half past two in the afternoon when I arrived into Arbroath, the weather was if anything getting worse, when Karen said it was raining all day I never thought to ask (and she never said) about the wind, when I check a weather forecast it’s the wind that’s more important to me, wind and rain combined is never an enjoyable day on the bike, I had previously cycled all of the next section of the route to Dundee, its reasonably flat and traffic free I could do it easily and make Dundee to find a place to stay?

At the start of the day my end goal was to cycle to St Andrews then camp, no way would that be happening now, as I felt neither of these two choices were gonna be fun in this weather, I decided I would have a pint near Arbroath train station, where I could price a return train ticket home from Arbroath? Thirty-two pounds seventy pence for a return with my auld boy discount card. I could be home in a couple of hours have a pint at my local pub that night and be in my comfy big bed, then use the return ticket to come back to the route in a few days, or I could continue on in the wind and rain for two days?

It was approaching six months since I was last home, the thought of getting into my big heavy duvet after a few hours down my local boozer was too inviting! I couldn’t resist, psychologically I found countless ways to justify getting that train, promising myself I would return to complete this mission, while reminding myself that I had previously cycled this section anyway, the ticket was bought and I boarded the big LNER train, the lady that was a train guard sent me to the wrong door originally, I had to make a mad dash and a rushed boarding to get on the right door for bicycles, this cost me a good glove; I only noticed I had dropped it once the train had left the station, these trains cycle racks are the type you need place the front wheel on a high up hook, I didn’t want to do this as it would mean taking of all the pannier’s for a reasonably short train journey to Edinburgh, I shoved the daunder into a slot next to another bike where it was secure enough but the back end hung out a bit, when the guard approached he was initially unhappy about this, he asked me if I had made a bike reservation which of course I hadn’t, because I had made my booking though my scotrail app minutes before boarding and had not seen if there was a way to make a bike reservation on the app, I told him I would happily get off the train if another bike came on, he was ok with that and it justified my not taking of the paniers, he instructed me that I had to stay next to the bike for the duration of my journey if I was to remain on his train! Nae bother pal;

At Leuchars a couple were standing at the platform with drybags! I initially thought these were for cycles when they boarded! I was getting ready to get off but fortunately they had no bikes, I asked the fella what the big dry bags were for? Turns out they were pack rafts him and his girlfriend had been having a Packraft holiday in Scotland on three different rivers, he stayed standing chatting with me next to my bike all the way into Edinburgh, where I switched platforms and trains for the final thirty minute train journey home, on this train I got chatting with a young polish cyclists who had been living in Bo’ness the last few years but was going home to Poland soon, I’ve learned that having your bicycle on a train is often a conversation starter with like-minded folk and explorers,

Aberdoom - Kaz & Al`s

The unmistakable sound of helicopters trains and police sirens! I was firmly back in a big city Dyce is on the outskirts of the city of Aberdeen, but I was still shocked to see I had 5G on my phone, only days previously I was cycling in areas with zero signal never mind any G`s, the G stands for generation of wireless mobile telecommunications technology, most places north of here were 3G making me smile when I went into an area of 4G normally, as this meant I could surf the web and even do video calling 5G is rare to me,

The cycle route into Dyce splits as it approaches Dyce from the north, I hadn’t noticed this and didn’t study the map properly before setting off, this oversight cost me an hour or so and a few extra miles due to me taking a loop out round the town then back to the cycle track I had been on but not left the previous day, this was frustrating as I should have known better on previous visits to Dyce I would go out for a jog around town after some course or other so I knew the place well,

The route enters Aberdeen through a picturesque area of ancient cathedrals and universities along cobbled paths, an area of Aberdeen I had previously not been to which surprised me! because I had lived and worked in Aberdeen for a while going out running round the streets every night, I thought I had been all over the city but I had missed this historic area somehow,

The timing was perfect for my planned lunch stop, I knew route one went onto the main shopping street of Aberdeen-union Street, this long street of shops bars and restaurants I had been up and down countless times, I have been to every one of those bars in the past some of them countless times, I briefly very briefly considered going to my favourite bar Ma Cameron’s for lunch. The brewdog in union street has outdoor seating where; I could keep an eye on the daunder as I enjoyed a pint along with a very filling vegan burger, the jet 727 airport bus passed and I thought about the numerous times I had sat in this bar timing my pints on boarding that bus for my airport hotel journey, smiling I could say never again to myself, no regrets though I have nothing but fond memories of my time in Aberdeen, I was still smiling as the cycle route passed along crown street where I lived for three months, the only slight sadness was once I had cycled over the river dee footbridge, with fond memories of the countless times I had jogged my wee round the bridges running route whilst in town, I then knew I was heading away out the city and down to the town of cove, the sadness was the thought that I may never return?

It’s a long winding cycle along B roads to reach Stonehaven, I felt it would never end at one stage! it undulates up and at every distant bend I thought I may see a landmark I would recognise only to see the road weave way out in front again crossing over sections of the new A90 at places, they should have been made to build cycle paths at the same time in my opinion, I rounded a section of road to go under the A90 yet again moving away from the coast, this time though my guess was right? I approached a junction I knew and remembered from my commute to work cycle almost one year previously! I had stopped cycling at this road end asking a van driver the direction to Westhill my destination on that occasion, this now meant the daunder had come full circle back from its journey to Shetland, this was a happy thought it was just a dream I was putting into plan way back then; now I was literally living that dream!

Except for cycling through the town of Stonehaven (as I had previously made a navigational error), I had already cycled all this section of route one from Stonehaven to Montrose, I opted to go have a daunder round Stonehaven, having only ever driven through previously perhaps stopping for chips or an ice cream, it was pleasant to do a touristy cycle round the towns sites great big beach quaint harbour and harbourside bars and restaurants, I priced a place to stay which was £80, this was too much to spend for me that night it would have been nice but an unnecessary splurge, it was time to cycle on, there’s a steep hill to cycle up to climb out of Stonehaven this turns into a walking path to Dunnottar castle, this impressive ruined medieval fortress bills itself as where legends come to life, the path out was not suitable for a laden touring cycle it was back to cycling at the roadside

When my sister Karen met big Al he proposed within weeks she accepted and they quickly arranged a wedding, so quickly it all happened that my dad said it would never last and refused to take a day of work to go to the wedding during the day attending only at night after work, I gave the bride away that day at the ceremony! Thirty years later here I was cycling down for a secret get together for big Al`s sixtieth, I had been at his fortieth in Dunkeld his fiftieth was held at my house, he really is part of the family my dad couldn’t have been more wrong,

Big Al knew I was cycling down but didn’t know I was timing it to get to this get together, had I stayed at Stonehaven that night, I would have been cycling to Brechin on the day off the party, instead I text them to come collect me on route in their big white van, they had bought this big van in preparation for them emigrating to Bulgaria, coincidently they met me at the town of Kinneff! This would at least give me time to get a washing done before the get together,

It was great to see them and be relaxing back among family, the daunder was put in the garden shed, I properly unpacked everything; getting all the clothes I had been wearing and carrying for nearing six months into one load of washing, it was the first time this clothing had seen a washing machine in that time!

train line fi the Broch

It was a sunny morning I think the daunder had enjoyed its night in the beer garden! The cleaner of cheers bar had to unlock it to allow me into the beer garden then wait briefly while I loaded the bike with my panniers so she could lock up again, I had a good chat with her while she waited it felt good to chat with a stranger not wearing a face covering,

I had a wee daunder around town to see the place, while stopping down at the harbour fionn the photographer from Pennan spotted me out the window of her office, she then came out for a quick chat, she gave me directions for where I would find my cycle route but said I should go along the beach front first, this I done gladly, even leaving the bike at a beachside pavilion to take a wee walk out to the sea to watch some surfers, for a brief time I thought I may have known these surfers as Brian that I used to work with surfs here regularly, it turned out it was three girls body boarding not surfers at all, a cue for me to roll out of town

The Beeching report on the railways is still spoken about with contempt in huge areas in the north of Scotland, he is hated by generations who blame him for killing rural communities, Beeching's legacy is now recognised nationwide, even to this day it thwarts plans to fulfil the country's renewed need for rail infrastructure, his report identified 2,363 stations and 5,000 miles (8,000 km) of railway line for closure, along with 67,700 British Rail job cuts with an objective of stemming the large financial losses being incurred on the nations railway network during a period of increasing road usage,

It’s my belief that much of his cuts were extremely short sighted, in fairness to him it was our government in the end that done the nasty work it was not one-man’s work, there is only one benefit to the axe. There are now more than 1,500 miles of cycle pathway in the UK that have been built on old rail track, most of that disused rail line generated by the Beeching Axe, my cycle route for the day being a good example of this

The cycle path from the Broch started right at the wonderful big beach near sand dunes, being an old railway line meant the route is very gently graded and easy to follow. the surface gets muddy along much of it making it best suited to mountain bikes, more of a walking route than a cycling one. The daunder is a touring cycle it can cope with a bit of gravel, the fat tubeless tyres although having limited tread for traction the size of them smooths the rough out, its not a route for slinky tyres with flimsy wheels, the only problem the daunder had that day was being heavy due to front and back panniers, this made the countless barriers encountered difficult to navigate through I cursed every single one of these, what kinda control freak designed these bloody things, my government is obsessed with gates and barriers on walking and cycling routes, this route being the worst yet for me, I didn’t let it spoil my day

Colin Gray had discussed this route to me while we were at work, he was instrumental in fact of me choosing this side route via the broch, him along with Bruce Scroggie the last I had seen them was sharing a forbidden sneaky after work beer with them to say our farewells, not goodbyes as they planned to join me on part of this section, Bruce had text to say my timing couldn’t have been worse it was his first day in a new job

While planning the route with colin he had told me to watch out for the Mormond hill monument, this monument is a giant horse made out of white stones it doesn’t tell you on any of the information boards but there is also a giant stag on the hill, I seen this stag first I liked these perhaps I should have come of the cycle path and went for a closer look? Pondering it and looking in to how old they are and their purpose for being there, made me decide they weren’t worth the effort of closer investigation.

When I got on this cycle path or to be more precise the Formartine and Buchan way to begin with, I thought yah beauty nae hills today, then I encountered a reasonably long section that was on an obviously slow incline, ok not truly a hill but I had forgotten trains did go up inclines, it had just been a while since I had been on a train in the mountains, which I have done many times previously in the alps and the Andes, I love train journeys but peddling uphill me being the engine! reminded me of a story my dad told me once, Before going into the army my dad worked for the railway, he was a fireman on steam trains (I prefer the word stoker but that’s for this job on steam ships), the trains he worked on left with cargo from grangemouth docks down to Carlisle, once while we were in a car together doing this route, he pointed to a hill out the car window near the border, He told me about his routine for that particular hill we were passing, steam engines are fuelled from a boiler his job was to keep that boiler fed with fire and water, when leaving grangemouth he had to shovel coal consistently into the fire in order to make enough steam, the faster the train went or the steeper the incline the more steam required the more coal he had to shovel, by the time he got to this hill he had already done a lot of shovelling but then had to shovel like hell, sweat lashing from him to get to the top of the hill, once at the top he would throw his shovel onto the coal pile, close the fire door retrieve a bottle of pre placed Newcastle brown ale out the water, smile and put his head out the side of the train to enjoy the easy downhill ride into town, the hard work done let the train take the strain

At the town of Maud there is a large (obviously) unused railway station, this was at one time a big deal as this was the crossroads in the railway for the trains coming and going to Aberdeen at Maude until the 1970`s trains either went to Peterhead or Fraserburgh from this station, there is still a preserved prison train carriage here, this was used to transport prisoners from the big jail at Peterhead out to make them work in the quarries, It was the first state-owned passenger carrying railway in Britain; a product of Victoriana which ferried criminals to a place of hard labour in the north-east of Scotland. it is more than 50 years since the closure of the Peterhead Prison railway, the service, which was operational for the prison from 1888, The train operators constructed a gate, which used to open between the prison and Admiralty Yard, when researching it I seen some evocative old images of the prisoners being marched off to their daily grind, whatever the weather conditions, to carry out often back-breaking work, the convicts would be transported daily to the quarry and back on this train, it saddened me to think what our society must have been like then, just imagining myself getting sentenced for what in my case would probably some sort of environmental or civil liberties campaign, where some power mad policeman would whack me with a lead filled truncheon, then when I fought back it would be aff to peterheid for twenty years hard labour, I know people who would like to see a return to those days!

I wasn’t going to jail thankfully! Neither was I going to Peterhead I was cycling on to Ellon happily, for a couple of reasons? Firstly I was back on the NCN1 route with a millennium post at the still named station bar Inn to welcome me, it has a wee poem on it saying - the station hotel Maud welcomes you from the track, rest well and haste ye back, secondly; somewhere along this cycle I would be meeting a buddy, colin would be joining me for a bit of cycling and some banter, the first proper friends company that I had been in since many weeks ago on Orkney, with big countries best off tunefully playing on my headphones as I merrily cycled, it was very uplifting music to an already joyous day, I never put headphones in when I am on roads and rarely when likely to be required to be alert to other path users, or when likely to be back on a road at any moment, this was different a totally traffic free path, I could even sing along disturbing no` one, this also stopped me having yet another conversation with don kenjo I was getting sick of his moans! YES by then I had begun to hold proper conversations with myself, at one point I even caught my mind saying don kenjo we BOTH know this hill is gonna be longer than it looks,

The approaching cyclist stopped when I seen him? sure enough true to his word it was colin what a legend, it was great to see him and I told him so as we shook hands, something I Immediately then asked if he was ok with shaking hands in these crazy covid times? He had no issues with this, we then preceded to chat happily about what everyone we mutually knew and kept in touch with was up to, all the way to Ellon where I had been looking forward to getting to for weeks, this was a long-awaited planned treat for me a visit to the centre of my universe Brewdog HQ

Colin knew this whole area extremely well having cycled driven worked and lived all around this neck of the woods, with him as my guide we took the direct route through town to the industrial estate on the outskirts that is home to my favourite brewers HQ, I have a few favourites but brewdog spearheads a revolution in my society which I love, this was my second visit here so I had my brewdog passport already stamped (another of my box ticking agendas) the overworks bar was shut I wondered if that was permanent? The main bar had moved location and was much bigger, what a truly awesome place there’s even a beer museum

What a fantastic lunch I had there they have great vegan choices, I was loathed to leave seriously considering finding a spot nearby to camp for the night, But (there’s nearly always a but) it was still reasonably early in the day and after a couple of pints colin still had to cycle home anyway, his home was further down the route I would be following we reluctantly eventually dragged ourselves away, Bruce had been hopeful of joining us here after his work, I had to text him to say we would no longer be there at that time of night

It was then back onto the Formartine and Buchan way for us to cycle another few mile together, to a place called Newmachar where me and colin would part, here he pulled an ace out his sleeve? Ok not his sleeve but From his under-saddle tool bag he pulled out two whisky miniatures bought from his nearest distillery Glen Garioch, both me and colin while at work were regulars at whisky club, a band of brothers (we only ever had one lady join us) dedicated to meeting up together for a whisky tasting session at least once each working trip, we had our toast, I have a few of these which became popular at whisky club meetings, a happy parting to a great meet up slainte colin twas braw,

Arriving in Dyce right at the train station which was also where colin had done a wee search and got me a cheap room for the night, I had prebooked this station side B&B room while having a beer at brewdog it was right at the station with a millennium post on its wall, locking the daunder up at the front door I had been sent an email with a code to gain entry, a quick shower then it was into the train station chip shop for a fish supper,

This was nowhere near my first visit to Dyce I had been here countless times due to working in oil and gas, the towns surrounded with industrial estates where various courses are held for the industry, it sits right at the airport although on the wrong side of the runway from the entrance making it a distance to get to the departure gates, which is a shame for the train station as it would be ideal if you were coming here only to fly out, of the train and on the plane! Sadly, this is not the case if you’re flying out of Aberdeen your better to get off the train in Aberdeen then getting the bus to the airport, the appropriately named JET 727 bus to be precise, the days of getting this bus and flying out of Aberdeen are gone for me now, it’s a new chapter of my life and a pledge to be flight free for 2021

Right next to the train station is the spiders web this bar is well known in the circles I worked in, most of my ex colleagues and friends that worked or are still working in the oil industry have been to the spiders for a pint, if they were like the previous version of me probably a cheese toastie with that pint at some point in their career, as a point of clarification I’ve never had a career in that industry it has always to me just been a job, the spiders had plenty space for folk, I could just walk in the lounge I could easily also have gotten a seat in a new big marque in the beer garden, the bar looked busy though, the lounge was busy also with mostly the easily identifiable (for me) oil workers, they would look at me sitting alone no kit bag dressed in the clothing of an outdoors enthusiast and know I wasn’t one of them! I was looking at them and pondering this, partially sadly as I had lost an identity there is something about the job you do that people attach your identity to, in the end I decided I was happy with this, I had actually wanted to be rid of that identity for at least a year probably much longer, so why should it now briefly make me sad? It was because I no longer felt I belonged I guessed, then I took a sip out of my pint of real ale smiled and pondered my new identity, which is probably the enemy of the group I formerly belonged to, this tickled me perhaps this environmental campaigning hippy (or is it? hippy crit!) should get into a bun fight with these planet killing oil workers just for the craic, I didn’t of course, these guys like I once was are only storm troopers for an evil empire

Instead, I just asked them where they worked? Turns out they had just helicoptered of a rig that day, they were having a few pints with one of their colleagues who was on this evening taking the happy train home from his last trip off shore, this brought a flood of happy memories to me of my many days on the happy train home