Once we hooked up with Pinkeye at Yarrowford (we tried to lose him so many times!!), and after the mini feast of pseudo Cadbury cream eggs (thankfully provided by Charlie Cheese.........................Bring the real ones the next time!!), we started a lung bursting, technical climb up the Minch Moor Road. Thankfully the climb calmed down to a gradual, grassy climb which was enjoyed by all, even though a few started hallucinating towards the top, confusing fellow mtb-borders posse with complete strangers!

Again, we all mirrored the sun with our big, smiley faces at the bottom of the trail, even if some of us did get slightly lost on the way down!!

A final tarmac section brought us back to Selkirk around 3.00pm.

Thanks to Big-W and Keith for the local trail knowledge, Charlie Cheese and ME for the mid ride treats and for Pinkeye keeping an eye on my back wheel.

'Crusaders in the sun' were:

Big-W, Keith, Charlie Cheese (she's a real lady you know), Pinkeye and me (ACJ)

Big Day Out 7th April 2007 - 'Tickling the Duchess and Slapping the Drover'

Back

It started like any other Saturday of late, with a group of guys n' girls meeting up for a days mtbing. Only this day was different, the sky was bright blue, with only an occasional haze in the distance of heather being burnt on the hillsides and the sun had a great big smile on his face. Things were looking good.

We all met a the Rugby Club car park (contrary to some members distaste), with the usual 'meet at 10.30 ish, arrive at 11ish, faff till 11.20ish and depart WAY after we bloody should of'.

As with all mtb days out, there was the usual mishap before a chain was lubed or a crank was turned. Pinkeye took his 'weight weenie' ethos too far and decided to arrive without his seat clamp. After a disappointing visit to the local penny farthing dealer in Selkirk for a seat clamp, Pinkeye fell on the proverbial sword and decided to foolishly leave Charlie Cheese with the rest of us. As Pinkeye headed off further a field in search of a seat clamp , we started our day off with a brief road spin out of Selkirk towards Bowhill

Turning off the county road and into Bowhill, it was all too tempting to ditch the bikes and play on adventure playground as the road started to gradually head upwards. With heads down and arses firmly planted on the saddle we slowly winded are way up the Duchesses Drive, through the forest and out onto the open moorland. News then reached us that Pinkeye was back in the game (with a borrowed seat clamp) and that we would meet him in Yarrowford village.

With Keith and Big-W leading the way we all dropped down into the valley, along a sublime singletrack which seem to last for ever. We'll okay, maybe 3-4 minutes, but it was still and absolute blast! Like Charlie Cheese's pet rabbit Ken, the track looked lovely, but it had a sadistic side. With ever alluring ruts and 'where has my front wheel gone?' soft spots peppered the whole way down the track, we all kept our guard up to eventually be spat out at the end. Like the sun above we all had big smiles on our faces. Down the road we went to meet up with Pinkeye at Yarrowford.

Once we regrouped at the top where the Minch Moor road meets the Drovers Road, we enjoyed a feast of choccy bars topped with the usual banter and laced with the odd sarcastic jibe at anyone who deserved it!! The sun was high, the temperature was rising and so was the track ahead of us. On we went.......................

A short climb elevated us to the next descent, a sweet, rocky downhill section which dropped us into a small glen. Big-W kindly carried out a destructive test on his rear Michelin tyre, which resulted in a puncture (and un-be known to him a large hole in the tread) and another chance for the rest of us to have a natter. Too many flapjacks and skinny Frenchie tyres don't mix!!

A final push saw us at the top of the 3 Brethern with nothing but a mammoth descent left, down into Philiphaugh Estate. The trail brought out the ASBO element in some of us, with some innocent ramblers being terrorized on the way down. No names will be mentioned, but needless to say 'Mr T is no d**n fool' when it comes to owning the trail!

Mother Nature put the proverbial 'stick in the spokes' for some of us, by giving us wet feet and muddy bikes due to some obligatory stream crossings. But any damp feelings were blown away by the final rocky, swoopy descent into Selkirk.

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