RSF - The Off Road Cycling Club

The Adventure Starts Here


“[T]o me it doesn’t matter whether it’s raining or the sun is shining or whatever: as long as I’m riding a bike, I know I’m the luckiest guy in the world.” - Mark Cavendish, British pro racer


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

2009 Jan-Feb Vol 54 No.1

There was a definite feel of approaching autumn as we left the campsite at Newcastleton in Liddlesdale but the climb up to the Seven Stanes Mountain Bike Centre had the blood flowing. The leaflet at the campsite had given details of the centre, which had only opened several weeks beforehand. A few days previously we had had a look round, bought a coffee at the cafe, and ridden one of the easier routes. This had brought us out on a track where there was a sign pointing to the Border Crossing which sounded interesting. Our two maps which covered the area did not show any way through but we eventually managed to buy a map at the Kielder Forest centre which showed all the routes and gave details of the crossing so we were on our way

2009 March-April Vol 54 No.2

Suppose you are a Professor of Biology, trundling down the slopes of Minch Moor (south-east of Innerleithen) on a lovely sunny Sunday. Fieldglasses at the ready, map dangling on the hip, whistling a melodious tune, hoping to spot that rare bird and then, out of the blue... WOOOOOSSSHHHH... a dozen of mountain-bikers rocketing past, leaving you bewildered. This is certainly not the lovely quiet Sunday you had anticipated. 1 was not the professor, on the contrary. I was a cyclist on the way from Innerleithen to Dryden Greenhill, south of Selkirk. But both the professor and I had one thing in common: we were the wrong men in the wrong place at the right time.

2009 May-June Vol 54 No.3

The Monts du Lyonnais are just 20kms west of Lyon, but are “worlds away” from France’s second city. Not particularly high - never much over 1000m - they are not the Alps. But they do provide some particularly attractive all- year cycling on byways, green lanes, old roads, and single-track paths. It took a while before I “got used to” the IGN series of maps. What looked like hedges, field or parish boundaries to someone brought up on a diet of Ordnance Survey, were, in fact, a huge network of non-paved “roads” to explore. On top of this the whole region is encircled by one of the Grande Randonnee (GR) routes - the Tour des Monts du Lyonnais.

2009 July-Aug Vol 54 No.4

Glancing up from her toast and marmalade Laura announced; “Rough Stuff ride on Sunday” She brooked no dissension, so here we are at Spring Wood car park looking forward to a sunny day. Straight away the tone is set as we ride upward, with extra up. Took a while to get going on the road but we caught everyone eventually, our Marins coming into their own once on the rougher ground. The first of the days vistas unfolds at the ‘Nick’ followed by a downhill blast at I'm told, around 37+ mph. Curiously Andy pedalled all the way down!

2009 Sept-Oct Vol 54 No.5

We sat planning our route in the warmth of the campsite kitchen/dining room at Kirkjubaelarklauster (more easily known as Klausturs), whilst outside it rained (campsite highly recommended). The next day we would leave Route 1 and head inland to Laki, the site of volcanic eruptions back in 1783 that lasted over ten months. As it transpired most of the kitchens’ other occupants also had their sights set on Laki for the next day. There were five Dutch who were to take the tourist bus, a French family who would drive their old 2WD ford transit (the Lonely planet book states don't think of it in a 2WD!), finally, there was us, two crazy cyclists

2009 Nov-Dec Vol 54 No.6 (Index)

What I did not know yet was that the day after, the gear set would have been transformed into a hopeless mess and that other parts of the bike would have gone beyond repair as well. No wonder after the strain put on them between Llanfair-ym-Muallt (better known in English as Builth Wells) and Llanwrthwl (a couple of miles east of Elan Village). ...waking up I witnessed prancing horses on the hill kind of performing a morning serenade; snowflakes coming down like a falling curtain behind which equestrian plans were made...

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