In classic Scottish style, as we roll away from the hustle and bustle of the airport, the skies open up. The wind picks up in a fury, and we put on our rain gear. This would be the first of a long trip- a long process of navigating and handling the weather. Under my hood and amidst the rain, I crack a smile and let out a giddy laugh. This is why we are here. To experience the full spectrum of conditions and emotions of traveling through a new place. Our first day of riding would almost exclusively be on canal and bike paths; what a treat! One of my goals for this trip was to get off the main roads and into the magic of a place. And by magic, I mean all the sneaky little roads that take you to the heart of place rather than around it. As we worked our way towards Callander, we got to experience the canal boats and farm lifestyle that make up this part of the country. Riding through tunnels and lush forest, we sneak glances at quaint villages and ancient cobblestone paths. At one point during another wave of rain, we pass by a school. It was clearly lunch break, and all the teens were out walking towards their favorite hangouts. In the pouring rain, we noticed that no one was wearing raincoats. Huh. Are we doing this wrong? Rain and being wet is a way of life in Scotland; not much fuss about the weather. Go do your thing and get on with it!

By this point in the day, we had linked into the famous GBDURO (Great Britain Divide), a cycling route that covers the entire length of Great Britain. We would use this route to help carry us North. We traversed our first fields of Scottish livestock and enjoyed varied riding on all types of surfaces. Our bodies still on Colorado time, we visualized and dreamed about our first proper. Bopping and weaving around more farms, we could see our first stopping point of the night in Callander. A beautiful little village right on the edge of the highlands. We had booked a night at the Crown Inn, knowing that a real night's sleep in a bed would help set us up for a successful trip. Thomas and I love to play games, but when it comes to bikepacking, we generally adhere to a few basic rules and let the rest go with the flow. We see what the land and weather give us. This trip wasn’t about how hard and brutal can we make things; it's about the full-body and mind immersion into a landscape. We have our notepads out and want to learn and grow from this place. Students of the world traveling by bike.

One of the beautiful things about Scotland is how popular and welcoming the people are to bikes. People tour here on bikes, and it's not a new thing. You won’t get any strange or random looks. You will get chirps of encouragement and curiosity. The hotel staff and BnB hosts will welcome your dirty bikes and bike shoes and have a safe place to store that stuff, either in your room or a dedicated indoor bike shelter. I think this way of life helps cut the tension and edge that one can have while traveling in a new place, especially when your body is depleted after a hard day of pedaling. After sorting ourselves in our lodging, we slipped on our running shoes and headed out to the streets of Callander for some fish and chips. Thomas and I exchanged stories from the day as the native language and tongue echoed through the dining hall. Mates bantered about golf and what pint to drink next; we quietly observed our surroundings as our new reality for the next week set in. With our bellies full, we enjoyed some sunset light while strolling down the River Teith. It was a hectic and full-on first day in Scotland. Time to dry out our clothes and get some rest.

Moots arriving in Callander Day 1

Alarms chirping at 5:45 am, the hot water kettle starts bubbling, and we tear open our instant craft coffee from Idle Hands Roasting. The little morning treat that brought us energy and psyche every day. Thanks to Peter Jones for the full trip supply! Skies were grey and overcast, with mild temps. After hunting down some classic Scottish pastries and goodies down the street, it was time to set off. Our day would start off following the GBDURO to the small town of Killin, before branching off towards the mega-classic West Highland Way — (Scotland’s premier long-distance walking route, stretching 96 miles (154 km) from Milngavie (just north of Glasgow) to Fort William in the Scottish Highlands).

A misty collection of clouds started to form as we made our way north along bike paths, contouring lochs and villages. It felt special and unique to be on such fantastic bike infrastructure, tucked away in the woods. After a couple of hours of spinning, we reached a tiny pass, and the skies started to open up. As we stopped, we came to our first interaction with the famous Scottish midges. Tiny microscopic flies, coordinating in unison and buzzing towards their next victim. I could feel their wrath as we stopped to put on our rain jackets and pants. Maybe it's better if it's raining? At least then the midges subside. More to come on that later. As we buzzed down to the town of Killin, we had our first proper feeling of being completely saturated with water. My giddy smile and laugh from the day before started to flatten.

Thomas Woodson on film above Loch Lyon

In the town of Killin, we rushed towards the first cafe in sight. Was this a storm that would pass, or something that was hugging the mountains and would be around all day? Only time would tell. No use looking a weather app or forecast, it was unreliable and inaccurate. In classic Scottish style, we ordered a few breakfast teas and some toasties (basically a grilled cheese with a sweet chutney). Thomas and I slipped out of our wet cycling shoes and air-dried our feet discreetly under our table. As we were eating, a pair of cyclists showed up in similar fashion. Good reminder that this is totally normal and what we were doing wasn’t anything extraordinary. They were from Poland on a similar grand adventure (albeit on gravel bikes) out taking in the wonderful countryside.

For us, it is always encouraging and enjoyable to chat with folks along the way and feed off the energy of a place. Our new Polish cyclist friends seemed to have a determined edge, and we ended up sharing a similar route for a few miles. As we hit some steep grades, I think they started to grow jealous of our mountain bikes and gearing. As we soft-pedaled up our first real mountain pass, I was grateful for our setups and the terrain we were about to encounter. While never truly quitting, the rain turned more into a soft mist, which is far more favorable than a straight downpour. Our views were limited at the top of this pass, but I could tell we were on the cusp of getting into the good stuff. Remote, wild, and properly in the highlands.

As we traveled around the south side of Loch Lyon, we rode premier double track. The kind of tracks I dreamed about, my inspiration for putting this whole trip together. Riding the right bikes, with the right person, everything was falling into place. Steep grassy hillsides, sheep, Highland Coos, countless river crossings- this section really had it all. Quintessential Scottish riding. Beams of sun would occasionally pop out and highlight a magnificent hillside. My giddy smile and laugh returned. Thomas was on the same page, and we hooted and hollered around each bend. Finally able to let loose and ride our mountain rigs with some flair. Being out in the wild, tucked in the mountains, felt like being home in Colorado. This is where Thomas and I thrive. At the end of this double track segment, we started a long downhill towards Kinglass Cottage and the West Highland Way. It was pretty obvious once we were on the WHW, as we immediately started passing thru-hikers. As we traversed the hillside, we set our sights on our next pitstop: Bridge of Orchy.

In classic logistical Thomas style, he had found a semi-secret stop for dinner, just a ways past Bridge of Orchy. He had made a call during lunch to set up a dinner reservation. We planned to stop in Orchy, grab a pint, then roll down the road for dinner plans. After dinner, we would continue on the WHW and find camp somewhere. I think trips like this require you to act fast and think on your toes. No one decision is ever that hyper critical, but make a decision and then go with it. I think having a good partner helps this process. Sometimes it's easy to get lured into a resupply or waste time. Finding the balance between riding the flow and making calculated decisions is the game. On this Day 2, we played our cards right and were rewarded with a fantastic day of quality and diverse riding. At dinner, we enjoyed one of our best meals. Sometimes best on a trip like this equals quantity, but at this fine establishment, we were treated with massive portions and delicious food. We even had a first tasting of some local whiskey. Felt rude not to sample!

Throughout the day, we had heard rumbles of evening and overnight torrential rain. Let me skip to the chase. Yup, that happened. We ended up riding maybe 3 miles to one of the few clusters of dense trees in the area. All of the Highlands is barren due to centuries of deforestation. Which means finding a good bivy site that is protected is tough. I think most locals would have laughed at our sleep setup, but I think I still stand behind it. Between us, we shared a flat tarp and ground sheet. Individually, we each had sleeping pads, bags, and bug nets. It appeared most people camped out in the open with proper enclosed tents. Hmmm. So we were off into the dense woods and mossy floor for a tucked-away bivy. I like feeling cozy even if it has its downsides. An exposed tent out in the open just feels wrong, especially on a night forecasting torrential rain and high winds.

Sleep was on and off. Out of the whole trip, this was one of the harder moments. The rain was persistent and loud against the Dyneema tarp. I also don’t want to gloss over the fact that just a couple of hours earlier, I was being eaten alive by midges. It was the Scottish gods (and maybe Thomas) seeking sweet revenge on my trip and idea. Making sure you never walk away unscathed, gathering a few lessons to learn along the way. In some aspects, the heavy rain eased my tension and pain. As we would come to find out later on Day 3, which proved to be one of the grandest and hardest day yet. Despite the rough night, we still had the energy and stoke to keep pushing. Waking up in the mist, Thomas and I remarked back and forth how intense that was.

morning wakeup ritual with Idle Hands Instant coffee

Moots on the West Highland Way

Awake and caffeinated by morning cold brew in a running soft flask, a few bites of something go into the body (not to mention the bites I was nursing on my body). We pack our wet bikes and gear inside fully waterproof Tailfin bike bags, proving their weight in gold. For me, I think it was seeing the sun that morning. It provided me the internal stoke and confidence to complete this trip. The light and scenery were otherworldly and magical. Entering the Glencoe valley was what dreams are made of. Giant peaks and ridges in all directions. We stopped for breakfast at one of the few ski resorts in Scotland, the famous Glencoe Hill. Full Scottish breakfast and coffee for me, please. The midge welts on my face and arms burned and itched. This felt like a warm trap to stay here all day, and I’m glad we were both motivated and stoked to keep the pace up.

Back on the bikes, feeling small. Coming around the corner, seeing Buachaille Etive Mòr (Stob Dearg) is a top 3 moment of the trip for me. This perfect pyramid, erupting out of the earth, was visually too perfect. How could something like this even exist? It was full steam ahead to our next objective, our first scramble of the trip, Curved Ridge. I first heard about this route when I saw an iconic photo of Kilian Jornet Burgada scrambling up Curved Ridge during his 2017 win at Glen Coe Skyline. Ever since then, it’s been on my tick list. One of the anchors of this project was to link 3 technically interesting running and scrambling routes in Scotland. Curved Ridge proved to be indeed a mega classic. As Thomas and I approached this massive pyramid of a peak, we could see a series of twisting ridges jutting up towards the summit. Clouds were swirling and rays of sun stabbed through the sky. It was now or never. As we approached the trailhead, the scale of this mountain started to introduce itself. We stashed our bikes against a climbing school hut, switched into our running kit, and set off. I’m always full of stoke and excitement when switching to running off the bike. The legs feel wonderful with a new motion, fresh to carry us up the peak.

Starting up the iconic Curved Ridge

Curved Ridge was everything you could ask for. Exposed, steep, airy, with wonderfully solid rock. As we ascended higher and higher into the clouds, the moves got more interesting. Culminating in a steep crux with plentiful holds and jams, Thomas and I motored our way up this aesthetic feature as a light mist set in. The view of the valley floor as we climbed up seemed mystically low and far away. As we reached the summit, the perspective we were rewarded with was hard to describe. That sweet satisfaction after biking for 2.5 days and lots of hills; the trip and vision were all coming together. After a few summit photos, the clouds swallowed us up, and the wind said hello. Okay, time to get off this thing! Running back down was a techy treat, practicing some quick footwork to navigate many a slippery rock and chunky talus. When it was all said and done, despite feeling like a full day's adventure, we were back at the bikes in 2 hours. Plenty more time for adventure and progression in the day.

Back into bike shoes, we grabbed our rigs and crossed the road. Next up was the most infamous section of the West Highland Way: Devils Staircase. From the summit of Stob Dearg, we could see the Staircase. Coming from Colorado, Thomas and I are accustomed to hike-a-bike (HAB). Some of our favorite local rides include HAB. I’m on record saying multiple times that all good adventure rides need to have some HAB. Despite the hype, Devils Staircase made us feel at home. No big deal really, maybe 30 minutes of pushing at the most? Come on! That is light work for us, even after a 2-hour run. The thing that challenged us really in this section was the weather. It was raining pretty hard for the rest of our day. Towards the bottom of the Staircase, Thomas had a rear tire slash while riding over one of the many water bars that line this climb. If my memory is correct, this was the only bike mechanical issue we encountered all trip. One of the benefits of doing a trip like this with a partner is that bike mechanicals and problems are so much easier to solve as a team, especially when the weather is bad. Couple plugs, add some air, back on the trail!

We made fun work of that climb, hiking with our heavy rigs past many thru-hikers. Showing them who is boss. At the top of the pass, we then proceeded to encounter our gnarliest true MTB terrain of the whole trip. Rowdy riding and chunky terrain. It was a brake-squealing, arm-pumping descent down to Kinlochleven. We were reminded once again that our bike choice was 10/10. I was thinking to myself that if I had been on my fully rigid ESC, I would have walked that entire descent. The trip would have been nearly impossible and stupid on that bike. Hardtail mountain bikes for the win!

In Kinlochleven, Thomas and I hit the local grocery store for some orange soda and a bag of chips. Something on the lighter side to fuel us over the next pass to Fort William. In some ways, I think we both thought our day was close to ending; little did we know we had some brutal climbing and weather to contest with. Oh, and some really rough and muddy tracks. The day was starting to add up. Waking up in our wet bivy spot just some hours earlier felt like a lifetime ago. Eventually we made our way up a steep mixed-surface climb and started a long gradual service road to a small pass that gave way towards Fort William. The riding here was tough and tedious. Our progress slowed, and our motivation waned. As we battled into a headwind, we eventually hit our last steep climb before ripping down to Fort William. Town was a bit of a blur for both of us. I remember stopping at a bike shop, and Thomas pleaded for a hose. Our bikes were filthy and covered in all types of mud and manure. The rain started and stopped. Thomas had booked us luxurious accommodations down the road that included a full sauna/steam situation. Felt like we had earned that, and with how the weather was acting and our current location, sleeping inside felt like a no-brainer. When I think back to planning and dreaming up this trip, it was a day like this that really lit the spark. Interesting riding, run/scramble up an incredible peak, get back on the bike and do it all again. It was only the night of Day 3; Thomas and I were getting our full value experience I was grateful for how it was panning out.

Stay tuned for Track 2: Cairngorm Traverse

Moots Womble (Kyle)

Moots MXC (Thomas)