RSF - The Off Road Cycling Club

The Adventure Starts Here

1987

My biggest fear is that when I die my wife will sell my bikes for what I told her they cost! - Unknown

 

All content in the journals is copyright either of the RSF or the author or indeed both. It's use without permission will result in a stiff memo. If you would like to use an article or images please contact the general secretary in the first instance

1987 Jan-Feb Vol 32 No.1

We were now on a very rough track, dipping and climbing southwards, and much care had to be taken. After encountering another gate, I turned to find Alan being pursued along the track by a posse of lamb chops on the hoof, probablj' thinking that he had come to feed them. I imagined the headlines—“Cyclist eaten by sheep on Lismore”—would this be cannabalism I wondered, it would not be the other way round! We survived, and the last gate was at Loch Fiart. When shortly afterwards we came to a deserted farmhouse, the track stopped and we were riding on soft grassland to arrive finally at the southernmost tip of the island off which is perched a lighthouse. 

1987 March-April Vol 32 No.2

We had travelled the Affric River from its source and now it took us past the Dog and the Badger Falls, on one of the more pleasant tarmac rides of my life, down to Cannich and its indispensable general store. We were winding down, was it all over? No! From Cannich, bearing north east, on the east bank of the River Glass, many miles of quiet, oh! so satis fying riverside travel took us towards Inverness. En route, during a river bank, feet-dangling, flask-emptying tea stop conversation with an old, Scot tish fly fisherman we were told that “Here is Scotland”, not in Edinburgh or wherever

1987 May-June Vol 32 No.3

We stood on the far bank, pulling ice off our clothes. Our trousers were solid, but for creases at our knees. Now we felt the cold. Setting off, we found that our wheels wouldn’t turn. Pushing the cycles, we continued to wards the ruin by the Geldie Burn, our shelter for the night. Ben unloaded our cycles as I climbed up onto rafters looking for a clean sleeping place. Only the far end of the building still has floor boards, so I climbed over to the remaining floor, Ben passed up the panniers as I stacked them. He joined me as I attempted to unpack. The zips were frozen, as were the cords. Using matches we opened one pocket with candles in....

1987 July-Aug Vol 32 No.4

“Beware of the Bull” alerted us to a huge black lump with one horn lying on the track 50 yards away, so it was over the fence to a higher field, and only when passing the black lump did we discover “him” to be a cow, but bully was only a few yards away with his lady friends. This gave us more speed to ascend to the high spot on the Kerry Ridge. A lovely green track along here took us through other gates to two humps and a short ditch. The view from here included the Arrans and Cader Idris, such was the clarity of the day. And so on downhill to the Cider House on the main road

1987 July-Aug Vol 32 No.5

On the way home from Rhum, McNasty decreed that the Devil's Staircase would be more interesting than the Ballachulish/ Glencoe tarmac. Motorbikes on the Scot tish Six day Trial had just wrecked the zig-zags by cutting across them in a direct line, hellbent on speed and never mind the erosion. But they couldn’t spoil the superb views which make this over-popular track so worthwhile. Dusk caught us floundering in the Rannoch bogs so that the Black Hole of Ba seemed a cosy haven indeed. Our smiles ot greeting grew ever more- fixed as we met no less than twenty-one West Highland Way walker within the first hour of setting out next morning

1987 July-Aug Vol 32 No.6 (Index)

Yes, we did find a few hills in Denmark, but a viewing point near Hanning, 64ft. above sea-level, emphasised the overall flat nature of this Scandinavian collection of islands of which we visited five. In keeping with the commonly accepted though quite erroneous idea that flat country' makes for cycling, it seemed all the Danes cycle not pucka fightweights, but practical daily hacks with flat bars and back-pedalling brakes. Consequently the motor traffic appeared more aware of cycling behaviour than in Britain, and behaved in a civilised way, the laws enforcing this, especially when turning left. (They ride and drive on the right.) To be fair, there are fewer cars and many miles of cycle-ways, mostly tracks we would regard as easy rough-stuff

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