Lago di Garda, or Lake Garda, is the largest lake in Italy, and it makes WIndermere look like a garden pond. There is bike riding all around the lake, but it is at its best at the mountainous north end around the villages of Torbole and Riva. Indeed these villages are so bike-oriented that there is an MTB festival every May in Riva.

The area around Garda is stupendously spectacular, one of the major draws for throngs of German tourists at all time of year.

The place

Garda is something of a hidden gem – at least for Brits. The place is rammed with Germans and Italians, but English is rarely heard in the bars or on the trails. The resort is unusual in that it does not have traditional uplift – no ski lifts. Instead a host of shuttle bus companies vie for business in the Torbole town centre car park. The biggest and arguably best (most able to get you where you want to go when you want to go there) of these is Luca Bike Shuttle Torbole, run by the rambunctious and ever smiling Luca and his wife Tiziana. The shuttles do not follow a set schedule, but instead go to a range of mountain-top destinations each day. Luca constantly on the phone to various guides chatting about where their riders want to go today. It’s slightly academic, because whichever hilltop you end up on, you’re almost guaranteed a whale of a time on the way down.

During the weekend of the Garda Bike Festival it seems as if everyone in RIva/Torbole is all about the bikes. But as soon as the show is over the two villages return to their somewhat sleepier demeanour. There is still plenty to do, Winds bar in Torbole is swinging every night of the week, and Riva has several bars and clubs. Torbole has a good range of surf/skate shops too and if you need any bike gear Carpentari or Mecki’s will probably be able to help.

The riding

Trail finding can be something of a challenge. There are hundreds of miles of marked trails and even more unmarked stuff. Garda was on the front line in World War one, and the mountains are riddled with military trails, access roads and tunnels. This network provides the basis for some of the most interesting and exciting mountain biking you’ll ever encounter. It has been extensively built on by the trail building work of an active band of local enthusiasts.

Be warned that the descending around Garda is not all that easy…

Many of the tracks are known by different names to different people, what is “Anaconda” to some is known as “The Snake” to others. I struggled to find a definitive site with them mapped or with gps traces for download. Fret not though, guides are plentiful and choosing the right one, who will tailor the day to your riding preferences and abilities will make all the difference to your enjoyment.

The Garda Valley is a glacial valley, and because of how the rock strata lie and how they were cleaved by the passage of the glacier, one side of the valley (the right, as you look north, up the lake from Torbole) is more loamy single-track, with the odd rocky and rooty technical section. Here you’ll find descents such as Tramalzo, which begins with a short sharp climb to a tunnel, and then a long descent on a sweeping rocky track. Watch out for riders and walkers coming up!

The left side of the valley is rockier, and here are more technical descents such as Bocca di Navene and the Coast Trail, which at one point takes you diagonally across a rocky slab. It’s a steep technical section made much more challenging with a very exposed drop to the left. If you go down, there’s nothing much to stop you. In the dry, most decent riders will get down clean. In the wet – rather you than me!

Between Riva and Torbole there is a smaller hill – Monte Brione. Like much of the area, its slopes are bedecked with vineyards and olive groves and cycling is theoretically prohibited. But it is laced with trails, including a former downhill run along its ridge. Beware though; this run was closed due to the 400m vertical drop off to the left…

About the author’s trip to Garda

I timed my visit to coincide with the Sympatex Bike Festival. All of the top bike manufacturers were there in force, and there was a wide range of smaller component stands too. Danny McAskill was even there putting on some pretty impressive sideshow entertainment. And while I wouldn’t suggest you travel all the way just for the show, it makes an entertaining distraction from the riding.

Technical trails are abundant around Garda, as are rocks. Make sure you take a suitable bike.

I normally travel with my bike, but decided not to this time in order to take advantage of super cheap RyanAir return flights from Milan Bergamo airport which is just 100km from Torbole. Flights are also available to Verona which is even nearerI rented a bike in resort from a good selection of Cube and Scott bikes. But be aware, most of the best trails have some very technical sections, so longer travel bikes are better suited to the terrain. The slopes are extremely steep too and you’ll find yourself braking hard, for long periods. So make sure you have a machine with modern and effective brakes, I found my hands were getting tired and cramping on the Cube AMS120 29er that had Magura MTC brakes! After a couple of days I switched to the Cube Stereo 650B bike, and I faired much better with the Formula The One brakes it sported. With 160mm of travel, the Stereo was an ideal (but expensive) bike for this resort. The standard steed was the Cube AMS 150, which handled the terrain well. Garda being in Italy, the food is excellent, and regardless of your performance on the hill you can congratulate/commiserate afterwards with some truly great ice cream.

Not a bad way to end a bike ride.

The British MTB scene seems to have overlooked Garda, and it’s a shame, because the region offers world class riding, beautiful scenery, a good social scene and great food. All of this is affordably priced and just a couple of hours from UK airports.

There’s something of a chicken and egg situation though. Few UK providers do bike specific packages to Garda, and because few UK riders have experienced the area, there’s little demand for them to do so. Our group was organised by Michael Cycle, a well known character in the northern UK MTB scene, and a member of the Bogtrotters group who ride out of Lancaster. Michael lived in Italy for 6 years and now spends three or four months per year in Garda, where he helps out on Luca’s shuttles, and then guides whoever wants to tag along down the mountain. He’s a useful contact to have because he seems to know everyone in Torbole and Riva, regardless of whether they are locals or visitors.

CycleActive and Saddle Skedaddle also both offer trips to Garda, although their basic landed cost for a week (you arrange your own transport) is more than I spent in total for nine days including bike hire, flights, food and drink and uplifts. It’s worth considering the options.

I found a few websites that claim that Garda has been voted the “Best Destination in the World for MTB” They don’t say when, or by whom… but it’s a believable accolade. The guys I was riding with are frequent visitors to Les Arcs and Morzine… but after visiting Garda, say they won’t be bothering with those resorts in future. I’m already booked to visit Crested Butte, Fruita and Moab later this year, but there’s a part of me that wished I’d saved money, and spared myself jet-lag and just gone to Garda. My week in Garda was simply the greatest seven days I’ve ever spent on a bike.

How to get there

RyanAir flies to Milan Bergamo, which is just 100km from Torbole. Alternatively fly to Verona.

More information

http://www.rebbens.info - Michael Cycle
http://www.skedaddle.co.uk
http://cycleactive.com

Despite living in Wales for over ten years up until recently, I have never had the chance to climb Snowdon on my bike. All that changed a couple of weekends ago when I was invited by Hit the Hills to do just that.

I called up old mate Rhys Holtham to see if he was keen on this mini-adventure, who responded with his now age old retort of ‘I’ve got stuff to sort on the house.’ Luckily for him he followed it up by calling back and saying the house could wait, as it was an experience he didn’t want to miss.

Setting off from Bristol at 7am on a Saturday morning to pick Rhys up in South Wales en-route I’d forgotten that despite already being in Wales it was a four-hour drive to the northwest of Wales and the peaks of Snowdonia.

Welcome to the mountains. The peaks are savage round here. Perfect for a bike ride.
PIC © Andy Lloyd

Arrival and the epic climb

On arriving at our destination of Ben’s Bunkhouse, just south of Llanberis, we were greeted by Hit The Hills boss Christian (read his interview here), who told us our three course dinner would be ready at around 8pm so if we liked we would have time to go up and come back down Snowdon.

The climb is long but worth the effort. Remember to respect the walkers though.
PIC © Andy Lloyd

Given that the weather was meant to be frankly sh*t on the Sunday, we jumped at this and, accompanied by Christian, we set off from the bunkhouse in a rare moment of glorious spring sunshine. A quick 1km warm up on the road to the foot of the mountain and we were straight into the climb, which starts off with a very steep energy sapping tarmac climb. Enough to just about finish me off before we had even started.

Snow on the ground still, but spring is a good time to be out on Snowdon.
PIC © Andy Lloyd

We were riding up the Llanberis path, which is used by most of the punters walking to and from the summit. Setting off late in the afternoon was a good call for the descent from the top but for getting up there it was a bit of a pain as with that many walkers you have to do a fair bit of politely waiting for large groups of people to wander slowly by before you attempt the many technical sections. About 75% of the climb is ride-able and pretty challenging in places, with the rest being a push or hike-a-biking.

Shorts and t-shirt? Whatever next?

Once up into the snow line the temperature dropped significantly and many of the walkers looked pretty bemused at our shorts and t-shirt get-up. On reaching the summit we were greeted with stunning views as far as the eye could see, but accompanied with a bitingly cold wind. We hung about at the top for a while then set about getting off the mountain using the Ranger’s path, which it turns out is a pretty technical descent in places. Our host Christian lasted about three turns from the summit before his chain ripped through a few spokes and potato-chipped his rear wheel, so he unfortunately had to pootle back down the main path as it was pretty far from fixable.

Nearing the summit. Christian unfortunately couldn’t benefit the efforts and had to limp his way down.
PIC © Andy Lloyd

All that climbing/pushing/hike-a-biking was well worth the effort as the Ranger’s path down is sublime – a mixture of the best the Alps and Scotland have to offer in terms of technical rocky riding; if you can get down the entire descent without dabbing a foot then you’re a pretty gifted individual. We stopped en-route to capture some pretty pictures of Rhys sessioning certain sections, so I’m not entirely sure how long a non-stop run would take. As we started off late we had the trail to ourselves until we came across another group of riders who were dealing with their second or third puncture each – take note, run your pressures high and use some heavier duty rubber for this trail!

The descent is not for the faint hearted.
PIC © Andy Lloyd

We rolled into Llanberis at about 7pm and trundled the short ride back to the bunkhouse ready for the cake (many slices of) followed by the grub Christian had prepared us. He runs Hit the Hills on a kind of ski chalet system – afternoon tea and cake, then a three-course dinner. The food was fantastic, and there was no need for all the Spar snack grot we had brought with us as there was a serious amount of food on offer and at a very high standard.

Sunshine, hills, epic descent. And a fried breakfast the next morning. Not a bad combo.
PIC © Andy Lloyd

The Cli-Machx…

The next day we were greeted (after a very large fried breakfast) with dark skies and rain so we decided to wuss out of clambering up any more mountains and headed to  Machynlleth on the way back south for a spin around the Cli-Machx trail.

Oh yes.
PIC © Andy Lloyd

The beauty of staying with Christian is that for not much cash you can base yourselves with him, and not have to worry about food and all the boring bits in-between riding and just get out there and ride. His base near Snowdon is ideally placed for Snowdon (obviously, duh), but there is also a massive amount of other natural riding as well as the numerous North Wales trail centres, which are in close proximity.

Inside the accomodation. Christian runs a chalet-style set up and it really works.
PIC © Andy Lloyd

Please be aware that there is an mutual agreement between mountain bikers and other mountain users not to ride Snowdon between certain dates and times, so check that out online before planning this one. Having said that you can always ride it early in the morning (and I mean early) or in the evening.

Not a bad spot for a stay near Snowdon. But remember that Christian runs many different packages in various locations across the UK and this is just one example. Have a look at his website for all the details.
PIC © Andy Lloyd

Hit The Hills offers this trip and many similar options in various UK locations, with natural and trail centre riding on tap and a wild abundance of cake and coffee thanks to the quality catering service laid on by Christian.

A big thanks to Christian for the support, food and for pointing us in the direction of one of Britain’s ‘must do’ rides.

www.hitthehills.com

Your trusty reporter, Andy Lloyd.

Day 3 – Mar Sein Leibh Loch Carrann

After what can only be described as the fastest consumption of dinner and deepest sleep ever, we were primed and ready for our final day in the mountains. Having been out for so long the day before, we opted for a ridiculous combo of porridge and a cooked breakfast. Both Rosie and I struggled to finish the latter portion but certainly made a hefty dent. Much needed fuel for the day ahead. After mucking about with Woody the Collie for the final time, we settled up and said farewell to our most excellent hosts, the rather lovely building and of course, Woody. More live Iron Maiden got us primed for another long day out; we couldn’t wait, not after the previous day’s antics.

Rosie saying a final goodbye to a rather rad pup.

For the final day, we’d be joined by Fort William supremos Joe Barnes and Fiona Beattie. This mirrored the trip we’d made here in October as the group comprised only of people who would much rather be out in the hills on bikes than doing anything else. It also meant that everyone had someone to chase/put space between. Huw had his eyes set of hunting Joe down, me and Sam exchanged places more times than Sam had punctures (that’s a lot of times) and there was now a duel in the ladies’ camp between Fiona and Rosie. All good natured and never planned, but just another facet of the final day.

The rough plan was to again head from the same spot, not that adventurous to be fair, but the path that follows the Fionn-abhainn is a great way of accessing the very heart of the area best known for its amazing descents. We’d again be heading up to, and past, the bothy. The plan was to again ascend to Bealach a’ Choire Ghairbh and around the back of Maoll Chean-dearg, skirting Loch na Eion and off the top of Bealach na Lice.

Skirting Loch an Eion looking out at Beinn Damph, Joe and Huw miles ahead.

We bumped into a local member of the Marines out on his own, heading over to Torridon and back, who said our chosen route was not the most optimal as there was no real descent around the back of the peak and we’d be better off heading in the opposite direction. Everyone knows that while big days out on the bike are the business, there has to be a descent that warrants the amount of climbing involved. Seems like common sense doesn’t it?

Pete taking in the Highland scenery.

We took the Marine’s advice and turned our route on its head. We’d ride a familiar climb before hooking left between Maol Chean-dearg and Meall Dearg. The trail that skirts Loch na Eion is a blast, another case of ‘get out what you put in’. Not massively steep, but with good flow and quite technical in spots. This trail was new to us all and I had one of the most bizarre crashes I’ve ever had only a few corners in. Some walkers had stopped to let us pass shortly after the trail crossed a stream. The stream looked fairly non-descript but was far deeper and the sides more precipitous than I had anticipated. I managed to send myself over the bars, but with my hands on the ground, my feet clipped in and the bike hanging vertically in perfect balance. Fiona arrived shortly afterwards and couldn’t get any words out she was laughing so much. She’d seen the whole event unfold and almost fell over laughing. I was pleased to provide her with amusement, which seemed to last most of the day…. The loch still had some thick ice where the sun hadn’t paid a visit, but was far from ride-able, despite Huw’s investigation. We spent some time trying to skim stones into a large hole in the ice some 30 feet out. Joe proved once again that he is the stone skimming World Champion and made us all look fairly average. Is there nothing this guy can’t do?

How to ruin a perfectly good view, part 2.

From the ice smashing, we headed up a fairly gentle and fast climb where it was all about the legs. Where the trail peaks, the view across Strath a’ Bhathaich and to the Beinn Damh massif matched the surrounds of the previous days and would produce a postcard in any direction. From here our movements were hampered by a number of landslips that had seen the original trail long gone and the going more stop-start. We eventually decided to turn back on ourselves. The lure of the descent out of Bealach na Lice was too strong. We’d ridden up it 3 times now, so it was very familiar and we knew fine well that we would be descending for some time on some sweet singletrack all the way back to the van.

Joeman showing us how it’s supposed to be done.

We weren’t to be disappointed. Swooping turns punctuated by ridiculous rocky gulleys that promised to snap off all extremities of bike and body came thick and fast. There’s no reason to back off where the going is good. The standard trail format here is a 3-foot wide patch of white quartzite gravel that weaves its way across the valley floor. Staying light on your feet and on the brakes pays dividends, rewarding your efforts for preserving momentum. The sun was still high and the breeze light, what a day for riding bikes! We were all having far too much fun to stop and regroup, everyone assuming the bothy would be the best place to get back together so the hammer was down. Joe made haste and proved his talent on a wee bike is not to be taken lightly. His change in velocity in all situations has seen a major jump over the winter. Huw set about hunting him down, using all the knowledge he gained guiding in the Alps and his XC racer legs to keep Joe in check. Sam and me were again at each other’s rear tyres until I had a big moment and let him pass. I left a big enough gap to not see him again until the bothy. By now, Rosie was in a sugar coma, but still trucking well with Fiona not far away. I forget which order they were in….

Pete starting back towards Bealach na Lice.

Between the bothy and the bridge, the trail starts to hit you with relentless water bars, each one vying to steal the wind from your tyres and at this late stage, 7 hours in, any one of us could have fallen foul. Luckily, we all managed to steer clear of the flats and made it to the bridge. The last few corners before the river crossing are high on grip and flow, offering some sublime riding. A short, sharp climb from the bridge presents possibly the second best descent on offer from the 3 days. It appeals to me, as it’s suitably long and rough, with multiple line choices favouring a cheeky backside of a rock to clear the rougher sections. My riding style in a nutshell. By now fatigue was setting in, so it was all about riding hard but keeping it in your pants. I’m sure we all had a moment or two where the bike decided it was going one way, followed by a strained facial expression and a summoning of all available strength to save the situation. The final stream crossing spells the end of the proper descending and was a chance to regroup and watch Rosie try and negotiate another river (she’s not a fan).

Huw getting his rear wheel steer on under the watchful eye of Sgorr Ruadh.

The last blast to the road is another where a decent set of legs and an inclination to pedal pays off. By this time I’d bonked, as had a couple of others. Rosie and myself had notched up 20 hours riding here, on top of the 6 the previous two days. We were all a little wrecked. There were no major style points available on the last section, so it was seats up and spin to the road.

The latest in helmet technology as modeled by Huw Oliver.

Another amazing day out in the wilds of Highland Scotland and more reason to go again. If we’d arrived earlier on the Monday we could have easily made it 24 hours riding in 72. It’s almost too easy to make a steady ride here last all day; even if you’re cracking on you’ll be out for several hours.

The Knowledge

We attacked this trip from Lochcarron, opting for the shorter drive but perhaps missing out on the ‘classic’ Torridon descents. Glen Torridon and the village itself has plenty of facilities much like Lochcarron but is obviously going to take longer to get to. We couldn’t find anything wrong with Lochcarron that would make us want to go elsewhere.

Travel 

Trains: Only an option if you live near or can get easy access to the Inverness-Kyle of Lochalsh line. Lochcarron would be the best as it has the best facilities. A multi-day trip would mean you’d need to carry all your kit, plus the bike on the train. Bonuses are you don’t have to worry about driving or checking in. Downsides are listening to gabba blaring out of a youth’s phone for the duration of the trip.

Planes: Inverness is the nearest airport, an hour and a half away. This option would still leave you needing to catch a train or hiring a car. Bonuses are access to Inverness from most of the UK and you cover most of the distance very quickly. Downsides are you have to deal with ‘suits’, luggage restrictions and waiting lounges. 

Automobiles: If you’re lucky and own a suitable vehicle, this option allows the greatest flexibility. Put the fuel in and drive. Yes it requires one of those riding to get behind the wheel unlike the other options, but the scenery is the best, you can take as many pee breaks as you want and you get to choose the music you listen to. The major downside is the cost of long chain hydrocarbons to fuel said vehicle, small roads and crap drivers. 

Other options: Andy McKenna of GoWhere Scotland plies his trade here and seems to be the best at doing so. Nobody knows the best places to ride in this part of the world more than Andy. If you’re looking for the all-inclusive or a tailor-made package, do yourself a favour and give them a shout.

Accommodation: Rosie and me stayed here. Emma was the perfect host, had plenty of good chat, knew the area very well, had the best sheepdogs and even offered to let Huw and Sam camp on their lawn and use our shower. Breakfast options were hearty and varied to suit all tastes and the shower, while not enough to take your scalp off, was certainly a potent machine. Prices are £30 per person per night which is buttons considering what you get. The bed was so comfortable it almost made me forget my own bed. There are plenty of other options in Lochcarron, ranging from cheap to ridiculous and for those going solo or large groups.

Food: The Lochcarron Hotel is the best place to fuel up after a day’s riding. Dinner finishes serving at 9pm and we almost missed the cut on the first night but the bar staff clearly saw we were desperate and made room for us. Much of the food is caught, reared, grown and made locally and is all top notch. Service is rapid and the desserts to die for. Local beer, ale and whiskey is all available, just take it steady, you’ll want to be riding in the morning!

Part 2 of the story here.
Part 1 here.

Part 1 (Barcachd) here.

Part 2 – Achadh nan Seileach

Our second day in Lochcarron started well. My original plan to wake at 6am to see the sun rise was thwarted by my ability to sleep through even the harshest of onslaughts on my ears. We’d opted to stay indoors, defying the very spirit of adventure, but saving our energies for time on the bike rather than burn all available stokens by shivering to death in a tent. Our erstwhile colleagues, Sam (Rosie’s brother) and technical riding wizard Huw Oliver, had joined our party that night. Sam hopped aboard the Iron Maiden train in Fort William while Huw drove his Berlingotron solo the previous night from Dundee. We were all in for a treat.

How to ruin a perfectly good view.

Our accommodation was far plusher than the price tag would have led us to believe. Loch Dubh B&B sits unassumingly above Lochcarron but offers a frankly ridiculous view across the loch and beyond from the solid oak breakfast table, flanked by two stag heads. With the sun crashing through the large ceiling-high windows, we knew the Achnashellach loop was going to be a winner. After we’d shovelled down porridge, two rounds of toast plus gallons of coffee and orange juice we were ready to hit the hills.

Woody and the Blingblingo

Every trip to the van was delayed by Woody. Who’s Woody I hear you ask? He’s the 18 month old Collie that is as stoked on everything as I am, possibly even more so. He’d have happily joined us for our adventure, if he’d been allowed. Both Rosie and myself planned to steal him, but decided against it in the end as we planned to return!

This shot captures a rare moment of composure on the loose rubble.

We arrived at Coulags to find Huw and Sam in deep discussion about the dashboard features of the Berlingo. Sam, most inquisitive about the automobile’s many functions, listened intently as Huw laid down the knowledge. Anyway….bikes, yes. We had a long day ahead as both Huw and I knew from riding this loop before. Both members of Clan Holdsworth hadn’t and were most excited. Me and Huw weren’t exactly calm either. I’d say we all involuntarily hit every surface of our respective vehicles on the way there, such was the anticipation. Rosie smacking the first disc of Iron Maiden’s ‘En Vivo’ into the CD player got us to fever pitch, with a perfectly timed track change to ‘The Trooper’ seeing the occupants of our van almost self combust.

Snow starting to make its presence felt.

The faff was unusually limited as we’d all ridden the day before, so bags just needed a quick change of water, sweets, gels and tubes. A brief pedal across the bridge from the car park gets you onto the public right of way to Torridon towards the Coire Fionnaraich bothy and beyond. The first climb was the same as the previous day, so needs little introduction. Rather than hook left at the first split in the path towards Bealach a’ Choire Ghairbh we kept turning right, taking us towards Loch Coire Fionnaraich. It was here we took our first pit stop and looked back at the distance we’d already covered. The beauty of riding in this part of the world is that you never feel like you’ve ridden as far as you have. The trails are as engaging as the landscape, so you’ve little time to spend thinking about tired arms and legs.

The trails are as engaging as the landscape, so you’ve little time to spend thinking about tired arms and legs.

At the loch, you can see why coire, a Scottish Gaelic term for cauldron, is used many times in these parts. The UK’s glacial past is very obvious here as the mountains rise sharply from the loch damned in by the deposited moraine. The loch itself sits at 236m above sea level with Meall Chean Dearg and Sgorr Ruadh rising many hundreds of metres above it. All the surrounding peaks are as impressive as they are imposing, especially when still capped by winter snow still clinging to the higher peaks.

Huw can’t beat Pete’s time on the bridge wrestling.

The climb from the loch towards Bealach Ban is less gentle than its predecessor but is mostly ride-able if the legs allow. A few steep, loose climbs punish tired legs, as they are unable to meter out the power to find whatever grip is available. The views keep improving until you scale the 45-degree quartzite slabs at the head of the bealach. There is only one view on this route that gets better than this. From here, there is an uninterrupted view of the Liathach, a 5 Munro mass that rises sharply from the deep Torridon sea lochs to over 1000m at its height. Skye can be seen to the west on a good day and the view from where we’d come from was only smeared slightly by, almost unbelievably, heat haze. We took a moment to sample the unrivalled grip of metamorphosed quartzite by stoppying down, and wheelying up, the steep slabs of rock. The grip was so readily available that Sam’s jaw dislocated, as can be seen in the photo below. Luckily, he didn’t require medical attention and another stoppy in the opposite direction saw his jaw swung back into place.

Sam negotiating the paved section on the climb to the bothy.

And then came the snow

Above the slabs, the terrain became tougher going with the addition of wind-hardened snow. What had been a fast and flowy trail before the scree slope below Coire Grannda was reduced to walking pace and finally, walking itself. I paused at the top of the scree slope to ensure our companion Stuart, a gentleman in his late 70s walking the route on his own, made his way up safely. In all fairness, with all our stops to admire the view, he wasn’t too far behind us. The coire offered sights we hadn’t yet seen, owing to the presence of the sun beforehand. The amount of snow and ice here confirmed its northern-facing aspect and the quantity of frozen waterfalls were immense. Everything here was covered in snow fallen weeks ago or ice that had been that way since winter first came to say hello. I was slightly concerned as even as dry as the climb up the corrie wall was last time, it wasn’t easy. Being covered in snow and ice would be another matter altogether. This is where the adventure portion of the trip came into full effect.

The rather impressive frozen waterfalls in Coire Grannda.

At the base of the corrie wall, it was clear we wouldn’t be walking on rock or earth at all until we were some way down the mountain. The presence of snow and cramp-on marks made me even more worried, but upwards we went anyway. Being a midget in these circumstances is never the best. Where the snow was deepest and had sat above gaps in the rocks, I lost most of my leg into the snow. Weighing in at just under 9 stone makes me 20% heavier with a bike on my back. It was tough going until the snow hardened enough for me to play my trump card and not break the surface.

Weighing in at just under 9 stone makes me 20% heavier with a bike on my back. It was tough going until the snow hardened enough for me to play my trump card and not break the surface.

That was soon ruined by the presence of sheet ice and I must say, my bottom was all a-quiver. This was something I was completely unprepared for and the group of walkers with full winter climbing gear made me realise how daft we were in pursuit of this descent. The view from the top of the corrie is the business. Again, the Liathach is in full view but you can now see the descent stretching out in the opposite direction down to Achnashellach railway station. The line here is accessed from Inverness and runs all the way to Kyle of Lochalsh, but is a fairly roundabout why of accessing the area from the south.

Huw makes up for the bridge-wrestling by owning the frozen lochan. Don’t try this at home.

With that out of the way, we quickly decided to try and ride across the frozen lochan. Huw was confident that it was ride-able when one of the hill walkers smacked the ice with his axe and barely marked the surface. Rosie played it safe and stuck to the path, while me, Huw and Sam set about seeing how brave we wanted to be. Huw won by deploying a one-handed wheelie on the ice. Good effort sir.

We had a brief time riding on snow before the sun finally had the height to peak over the top of Sgorr Ruadh and find the ground below Benn Liath Mor. The upper stretches of the track here are littered with bright white quartzite that presents itself as the loosest surface going. Rocks of varying size lie upon a fine gravel of the same stone. The best approach is to hit everything flat out and allow the bike to handle the task of dealing with the hits while having the reflexes to make split second decisions should things start going wrong. Lines don’t really exist as the trail doesn’t see any significant traffic and the weather is the determining factor to trail conditions. After some wild rides above Loch Coire Lair, the trail flattens out but still offers some amazing riding if you have the pistons to make it happen.

After some wild rides above Loch Coire Lair, the trail flattens out but still offers some amazing riding if you have the pistons to make it happen.

A decent trail bike, a dropper post and a pair of well tuned legs will love this part of the ride as you get from it exactly what you put in. At full chat, which is the only way we saw feasible, the trail comes alive. Water bars and natural jumps come at you thick and fast, leaving you wanting more. Speed allows you to use transitions to great effect with great sections of trail cleared with the wheels off the ground. Where the trail widens, the surface worsens with a few hairy gullies to negotiate. I’d said my goodbyes more than once on this section. Where the trail starts to climb is always a good place to regroup and we all struggled to get the words out while breathing heavy and thinking of enough superlatives to do what we’d just ridden justice. Me and Huw were wide-eyed, knowing full well the descent that was about to come, Rosie and Sam could only sit gawping when we pointed out we were still 300m above the road. We’d already been descending for a good 25 minutes!

Sam takes the pro line and adopts Pete’s ‘puff your cheeks up’ technique.

The trail splits several times more but sticking to the left of the River Lair reveals what this ride is all about. In stark contrast to the loose rubble of the upper reaches, the dark quartzite slabs offer unrivalled grip. Where a dropped banana skin has the lowest grip coefficient of anything known to man, the rock slabs above Achnashellach are the antithesis of that. This surface has to be ridden to be fully understood. Both times I have ridden this section of trail, I have immediately wanted to ride it again. My mind conjures up how much faster I could have hit every section only once I’m done. Needless to say we spent some time sectioning the best bits as the sun was still very much on our side and the trail had definitely given us a second wind.

Before the final descent starts proper, there is what I can only describe as the best section or sections of any trail ever. A fast double-track with rolling slabs offers multiple options to double things up and make yourself feel like a king. Shortly after there is a mega rocky section that can only be hit flat out for good effect with a couple of pro lines and finally a right-hand rock berm followed by a left-handed rut full of gravel (that offers no option but to rear wheel steer the living daylights out of it). From here on down, water bars are maybe the only complaint. These can be easily negotiated with a decent hop and are usually just before, on the apex of, or after a turn, so there’s no relaxing top to bottom. The gradient sharpens in the best way possible and with the exception of Sam racking up yet another puncture, it was as good as it could have been. I sectioned one corner maybe 15 times while waiting for the wind to return to Sam’s rear tyre. I was far from bored.

The final section seems like what would happen if trail centres occurred naturally. A 4-foot wide trail, hardpack with loose native pine needles covering the upper layer. Again, maximum attack is the only way here as you weave your way down through the native trees with the River Lair in a deep crevasse below. Once through a deer gate it’s all over. How do you go about describing the best ride on the planet? I can honestly say, I don’t know of the right words to truly explain the Coulags-Achnashellach-Coulags loop, it really has to be experienced.

This is the end

From the foot of the trail, a quick blast down fire road and you’re back to relative civilisation. We only saw enough people to count comfortably on one hand all day. While that offers a unique experience with regards to truly feeling like you’re in the middle of nowhere, it’s also important that you have everything you need for a full day in the wilds. Regardless of what time of year you visit this part of the world, the proximity to the sea and the prevailing wind, plus the height of the mountains can put you in a sticky situation very quickly before accidents and mechanicals are factored in. Thankfully, we got very lucky with the weather and in fact, got ourselves a suntan. While you can buy a whole host of traditional Scottish delights from the shops in Lochcarron, a tan from a high Scottish sun is a rare treat no money can buy.

From Achnashellach, the pedal back to the car park is all on road unfortunately. Thankfully the road only has one climb, which is over fairly quickly. The A890 is technically singletrack with passing places and the locals are well versed in keeping out of the way of other road users, so it’s certainly not a dangerous stretch by any means.

With the vehicles packed, Huw and Sam made straight for the Lochcarron Hotel while we took advantage of a much needed shower and got cleaned up before heading for food. (The Lochcarron Hotel is a fantastic venue for post-ride banter and foodstuffs. The food is most excellent, being cheap, awesome and plentiful. The menu will have you guessing until the moment you place your order and the desserts are the bomb.)

Following dinner and after a couple of rounds of board games, we were all spent and made our excuses. We’d been out for 9 hours; many folk would have been in work that long on the same day.

It’s not too often you end up getting only as much sleep as you rode your bike the previous day.

Final part of the story coming tomorrow.

No matter where we are in the world, every time we ride our mountain bikes we feel the anticipation of a new story. Each ride brings new sensations dictated by weather, riding partners, bike performance, trail conditions, trail choice, intensity of the ride and this changes the way we feel. When we travel to a far-away place these elements are heightened and the adventures intensify.

Our trip to the Dolomites was definitely no exception. Each day we’d head out from Cortina and venture high into the impressive limestone mountains that reflected light like nothing I’d seen before. The trails were rugged and rocky with some exploratory hike-a-biking and a lot of drifting. Many were built as part of the First World War, which added a powerful emotion to our rides. We also spent a night at the ridiculously perched Rifugio Nuvolau mountain hut, a spot that I’ll never forget.

Tyler Morland getting his hike on.

We started the long days and in some cases long-nights trekking trough the top of the Boot, breathing in Milan, soaking in Venice and then shooting up through the Prosecco region of Italy – to Cortina. Imagine travelling through one of the most beautiful countries in the world and then getting dropped off in Cortina; the word stunning is an understatement. Our goal was two fold – make our way up to one of the highest Refugio’s in Italy and two – discover some perfect pieces of singletrack along the way. We managed both but not with out some bumps along the way and a few photos to tell the story.

What a place to be riding bikes.

Italy has a way of eating and drinking that we can all get accustom to, and by fate we happened upon a monthly party where the Cortina locals graciously shared a little to much of the local beverage. The next day was taxing but we suffered through and managed to pull off a lift-assisted ride that hurt so good… With this leg we ended up at the pristine Nuvolau where we ate, drank and general figured the scene out. We poked our heads into the shooting galleries from WW1 and got a little lost in the trenches…literally.

Another day, another bike ride.

With it’s pristine roads, Cortina is best known for the Giro d’Italia. We chose to take this polished reputation and ride away from it with the newest of trail-ready bikes that you can do anything and go anywhere with. It seems like we only scratched the surface of this electric amphitheater. I guess we’ll just have to go back and ride a little deeper into the mountains next time.

Riders:

Chris Winter – Big Mountain adventure - www.ridebig.com
Tyler Morland – SRAM – www.sram.com

The idea behind this trip to the North West Highlands of Scotland was simple. My intrepid co-pilot Rosie Holdsworth and I both have our birthdays in the first week of April. Why not celebrate our existence by riding bikes for as long as humanly possible on the best trails available while taking full advantage of the ‘free’ days off on Easter weekend?

Part 1 – Barcachd

The plan 

Originally we’d planned to start the trip with the final ‘Innerduro’ series at Innerleithen before heading north, rounding off the week with more riding closer to Edinburgh. This would be a test of our own ability to keep banging out massive rides day-on-day without succumbing to fatigue or bike failures.

The dream team..

On Good Friday, after half a day’s sleep, I decided that I’d be lazy and just pack all the riding kit I owned, plus my bike and all the usual ancillaries. The beauty of travelling in a 5-seater van with one other person is space, lots of it. We didn’t swing any cats, but we did do the trigonometry based on average cat size, and found there to be more than enough room available. Fuel costs go up as space per head increases, but it’s refreshing not to have to think of excess baggage or what you can humanly carry onto a train. It soon became clear that Rosie had clearly thought the same and for some reason decided to pack most of her things into a Dutch fishbox she’d found on a beach in Northumberland a few weeks prior. This packing method did, however, allow for a ridiculous quantity of double-entendres throughout the trip and I forgave the fact that it could fit nowhere comfortably in the van very quickly. With the fairly mundane task of putting items in a van complete, we headed off to the M65 where we’d be on cruise control until we met the A702 several hours later.

Our opening weekend’s plan went out the window when the Innerleithen race was cancelled due to a prodigious quantity of snow in the Tweed Valley. Riding at Aberfoyle became a very good alternative. And after we’d finished our second day of riding some of the best trails Stirlingshire had to offer, we trucked north up the A84/82 to Fort William for a curry and some chat with the baeys, before heading north again on Easter Monday.

Heading even further north 

Heading north from Fort William might seem a little daft, especially 2 hours driving, but do stay with me. This is where choosing your co-pilot comes in most crucial. Iron Maiden’s lengthy and most excellent live albums really come into their own on this kind of drive, especially if you have two of them (albums, not co-pilots). We made the standard stop at the Commando Memorial above Spean Bridge that remembers those who have fallen serving our country but more specifically those who trained at the Marine camp in nearby Achnacharry. From the memorial onwards, the standard of the views increases exponentially.

An icy An Ruadh Stac under a high Scottish sun.

Straight out of Spean Bridge, you follow Loch Lochy down a large part of its length before it is joined to Loch Oich by the Caledonian Canal. From there the road climbs relentlessly up to the spectacular Glengarry viewpoint, where all of the 360º available gives you a postcard photo. The road from here drops into the magnificent Glen Shiel, where, on a similar trip in October, we saw the spot where the red deer stags come off their lonely homes high on the mountains to smash seven bells out of each other to impress the ladies. Not a spot of alcohol in sight. A 12-pointer, quarter of a tonne cervus elaphus stag is an impressive sight alone, but even more so in battle. Out of Glen Shiel and past Eilan Donan castle, home of Conor McLeod, the road to Lochcarron becomes increasingly Alpine. 14% gradients are the norm with some concrete tunnels protecting the single-track road and the single railway line from the rocks falling from above.

Coire Fionnaraich Bridge Wrestling Championship 

As we’d set off fairly early, we still had time to grab a few hours out on the bikes while the sun was up. It’s worth pointing out that all our routes started and finished at the car park near the bridge at Coulags, rather than from Torridon or Sheildaig. We opted for less driving and perhaps not riding the ‘classic’ Torridon routes. That said, as long as we were getting big days out in the hills, we wouldn’t be complaining.

The only built river crossing. Pete is 2013 Coire Fionnaraich Bridge Wrestling Champion.

Neither Rosie nor Sam (we’d picked Rosie’s brother Sam up in Fort William) had ridden the routes we’d planned to do and although I had, it didn’t seem to make me any less excited than them. In fact I’d say it would be safe in saying that we hit every available surface while rattling off the inside of the van en-route to Coulags. Bruce Dickinson was giving the mic a real hammering and we were ‘singing’ along like a brace of freshly neutered dogs. Once we’d parked up, so commenced the faff. Having two Holdsworths in tow, it took some time before we were ready to get going, and once we were, plenty of things had been left in the van as we were swinging legs over the bikes. That said, time was on our side at that point with the sun unusually high and strong for an April afternoon.

The climb up to the Coire Fionnaraich bothy is an awesome way to take in the views, get the legs warmed up and get your technical climbing/drainage bar hopping skills tuned up. Large parts of the path are loose quartzite, requiring a slow, methodical approach rather than just stamping on the pedals. Grip on the surfaced patches is unique in the fact that it is immeasurable. The dark gneiss seems to hate letting go of tyres and makes climbing fairly rapid where the legs allow.

Sam reaches Bealach a’ Choire Ghairbh silhouetted against a clear blue sky.

Soon enough you come to a small wooden bridge, ideal for topping up the water supplies, as the H2O here is clean as you like and super tasty. I also saw it as a good opportunity to become Coire Fionnaraich Bridge Wrestling Champion of 2013. Think table wrestling, but with a river underneath the table. Heading past the bothy there’s a few big double rock water bars that you can launch over but require full commitment to avoid flats as I’d find out on the last day of the trip.

Above here the path looks groomed but it’s just an awesome piece of singletrack climbing that takes you to the first junction. We’d originally planned to head up to the Bealach a Choire Gairbh to make a loop around the western face of Maol Chean-deag, but with Rosie getting close to Grumplstiltskin and it being later in the day, we decided to turn back rather than risk being out in the dark. The ascent up to the Bealach is a tough one. Loose quartzite makes up the surface in various sizes and is too loose, steep and unpredictable to push the bike. This is proper hike-a-bike territory and we soon had bikes on backs looking like a right set of freeradders. Sam and Rosie had opted for sunglasses and they were looking like they’d come riding as Roy Orbison and Bono.

Pete and Sam play cat and mouse down the white quartzite with Sgorr Ruadh in the background.

I’d kept my eyes fully exposed to the UV and continued looking like a cave-dweller. The hike to the top was slow going and in poor weather likely might not have been worth it, thankfully, being warm and sunny makes things very bearable, especially as the midgies were yet to appear. Once at the top of the bealach, me and Sam got wild for the camera while Rosie did her best to look like a pro spodder with a camera. The view from here is another postcard-fest. Sgorr Ruadh one way, Moal Chean-deag above us and An Ruadh-stac just obscuring the sun. Once Rosie had finished playing pro photographer, we headed off down one of the wildest descents I’ve ever ridden.

What made the climb tough going, made the descent equally as involved. Loose rock on a steep gradient is mental fun but can bite you at any time. All three of us just went floppy and allowed the bike to find its way down the hill, that was until Sam tried to ride a sheet of ice into a gulley, which still has me scratching my head as to how he rode it out… Big lumps of bedrock make an appearance and the ability to think fast and make the best of your chosen line is the only way to ride this trail. Speed is high and so is the risk of tomahawking off into the valley floor.

Sam : “I was at the limit of my core strength.”

Sam and I chose to try and buzz each other’s tyres down here just to make things more interesting and it certainly led to a few close calls. Just before the final plummet to the bottom, a series of horrendously tight, loose switchbacks appear that need some Jedi mind tricks to conquer clean. So tight in fact that some serious weight needs to be placed on the front wheel, but so loose that you want all your weight anywhere other than where it is. On one corner I went for a front wheel washout to back wheel trials hop and had pretty much said my goodbyes. Once the paths link up again it’s all about the staying power. Descending past the bothy and the bridge is a hoot, favours the fit and the brave. So many lines are available but it’s far too good being a bit reckless and full bore tanking into corners or launching off a rock to clear a few others.

Moving on and the scalping shower

Spirits were high after the ride as it showed that even a short ride in this part of the world can take four and a half hours. A very good omen indeed. Stoke-O-Meters sumped out when we only got to the Lochcarron Hotel in time enough for mains, dessert would have to wait for another time. Rosie and I had opted to go for the ‘birthday present from the parents’ option of staying indoors. The Loch Dubh B&B in Lochcarron is the flippin’ business. £30 pppn, a bed that was possibly better to sleep in than my own, a shower that almost took your scalp off (that’s a good thing), plus some mighty breakfast options. Porridge and a Scottish breakfast were very much on the cards. Our host Emma was most welcoming, as was Woody, the 18-month old Collie that we almost stole.

Time to rest up for day 2!

Rosie and Pete likely talking sh**e.

Words and all photos © Andy Lloyd

After living in South Wales for nearly ten years up until recently I have always been spoilt for choice for trail centre riding. Last weekend I met up with Rowan Sorrell and a selection of old mates to ride a couple of new offerings deep in the Valleys that have been crafted by the Back-on-Track crew.

Afan’s new trails.

Garw trail

First on the agenda was a short but intense little trail in the Garw Valley just north of Bridgend. It consists of a blue and a black route, which can be combined for a longer ride. The trail starts off on the blue with a nice gentle climb from the car park, but as you turn off onto the black route the contour lines get closer together and you’re faced with a tough, steep climb interspersed with technical rocky sections to keep the mind working on your way up. Once at the top it is basically one decent back down, but what a descent it is! Fast and flowing out in the open to start with, but not your normal, smooth graded trail centre, this feels rocky and natural. The rest of the descent is steeper – a mixture of natural and bermed corners with a couple of technical rock sections. The black then re-joins the blue for the final, very fast and flowing, bermed section back to the car park, which felt epic with a train of about seven of us flying down it. The whole loop took us about 40 minutes and is a great bonus ride if you are on your way to Afan or even further west.

Afan’s new bike park

The next stop was the new Afan Bike Park for the Cognation St David’s Day weekender. The bike park is an amazing addition to the already brilliant system of trails in the Afan Valley. It consists of five runs of varying degrees of difficulty, featuring jumps and berms up to what I would say were ‘A-Line’ (Whistler’s famous jump trail) sized table tops. This place is fantastic for learning to jump and building up the confidence to go big, as the runs can be lapped in a matter of minutes.

New bike-friendly accommodation: Depot Rd

The weekend was topped off by an amazing BBQ thanks to our host Ewan Shearer. Ewan has recently opened Depot Rd, a bunkhouse with a difference just a stones throw away from the trail centres in the Afan Valley. This is the Ritz of bunkhouses but at a price that won’t break the bank (I sound like a marketing man, but seriously, it’s cheap for what it is).

Depot Rd is bike-friendly and also pretty darned nice!

Built in a converted Methodist church it has a huge communal living area and kitchen with three bedrooms sleeping four in each. Outside there are two self-contained courtyards for all your BBQ and beer needs. There is plenty of secure bike storage and a bike wash. Check the prices on their website, if you book the place Fri-Mon it works out very cheap.

Afan Bike Park.

The Super Enduro final in Finale Ligure is one of the biggest enduro races on the calendar.
Photo courtesy of Super Enduro MTB.

Strictly speaking, the Megavalanche isn’t really an enduro, it’s an endurance downhill event, but we’re going to bend the rules just a little bit here, particularly because there isn’t an officially defined format. It certainly appeals to the same sort of riders drawn to enduro racing. It’s a long-running event that attracts growing numbers of British riders every year, with its mountain top (3,300m) mass start madness and a 30km course that takes in everything from rock strewn paths to loamy singletrack and root gardens that will annihilate your arms while testing your fitness and stamina, it’s one of the most fun and rewarding mountain bike events in the world. Qualifying for this event on a shorter course determines which of the many groups, that divide up the couple of thousand entrants, you’ll start in.

More information about the Megavalanche available on the Avalanche Cup website here.

The Super Enduro series is partly responsible for bringing the enduro format to the wider consciousness with the very high level of organisation and racing, the Italian series is a hotly contested one. The Finale Ligure (Italy) is the final round and is also on the new World Series calendar. The format is simply, multiple timed stages and linking transfer stages, fastest time wins. However the format is designed to be accessible to all levels or mountain bikers. This race starts and finishes in town, adding to the great atmosphere, and there are no uplifts so it’s a good test of your fitness, planning and bike.This is the enduro series that all others measure themselves by.

Get yourself signed up for the biggest Super Enduro race of the year here.

Running in similar fashion to the Mega, a mass start downhill event. Riders start on a snow covered 3,400m peak and race a 25km course with a 2,500m drop, which last year saw riders reach speeds in excess of 100kph. On the snow.

This year sees Mountain of Hell run in the weekend following the Mega so, if you’re up to the challenge, you can make a double weekend of it and race both events.

More information about the Mountain of Hell available here.
Here’s a video from last year’s event: 2012 Mountain of Hell

Take the enduro format and stretch it out over a week, and you arrive at the Trans-Provence. This enduro stage race has become something of a sensation, attracting the best enduro racers in the world, and with entries strictly limited to just 70, places sell out fast. This is the event all-mountain bikes were designed for. Multiple timed downhill sections every day, plus plenty of lung-busting climbing to contend with.

It may be sold out, but the TP guided trail weeks trace the same route of the race and allow you to experience the same amazing trails.

More information about the Trans Provence and guided weeks here.

The US has a burgeoning enduro scene and most popular of them is the Downieville Classic, held in California. Consisting of separate cross-country and downhill races, or if you’re feeling fit the All-Mountain Class challenges you to do both the XC and DH races. On the same bike. This old school approach places a challenge on equipment and bike choices, plus fitness and handling skills. The downhill is a 27km course and drops over 1,500m, while the cross-country event is a 50km route with over 1,300m of climbing. Both courses follow the rugged, and in places very tough, terrain around an old gold-mining town.

More about the Downieville Classic here.

Les Arcs is the name given to a collection of resorts in the French Savoie region including Bourg-Saint-Maurice, Arc 1600 and Arc 1800, Arc 1950 and Arc 2000. There is riding to suit every taste but it’s the epic singletracks that make the place so great.

Les Arcs riding is all about the singletrack treats.
Photo © Andy Lloyd

While the look of the four Arc ski stations is unappealing to say the least, the mountains in the area are huge and the more traditional villages are incredibly pretty.

Bourg-Saint-Maurice, the main town in the valley, is vibrant with plenty to see and do and abundant accommodation. Most mountain bike visitors choose to stay with any of the bike specific holiday firms, which are increasing in numbers (although there are still only a few) and none of which choose to base themselves in the Arc stations – there are many nicer places nearby! Trail Addiction is based in Paisey-Nancroix and Bike Village is in the village of Landry, both of which are traditional and pleasant.

Alpine hillsides are rarely as fruitful in the way of singletrack as that of Les Arcs. The area covered by the lift network is vast, with open expanses up high and tall trees on the lower slopes and rides offering up to 2,000metres of descending…

It’s a huge area so we recommend always riding with a guide or taking directional advice from your chalet hosts. There is a trail map, but the hunt for the best non-official trails is what makes this area the Alps’ underground riding hot spot for those in the know. Riders and guides here are fit, skilled and knowledgeable so they will always know where to point you for the flowiest goodness.

There is no better way to describe the riding of Les Arcs than sublime. For those coming from Britain, the loamy soil and the riddle of tree roots that make up the majority of the lower trails will appeal as being similar in nature to British riding, but of course on a much grander scale…with lifts to the top for run-after-run. You can also head out into the big, spectacular wider area of mountains with ease for all-day epic rides and stunning views. It’s quite a special place.

Talking of lifts, one of the better ways to access superb terrain is to ride the trails that run off the funicular railway. The train can be picked up from the valley floor on the outskirts of Bourg, it runs all day and will quickly cover 800metres of altitude, depositing riders at the head of many long singletrack rides back down. Particularly if you don’t want to ‘mess around’ with any uphill riding this is a good way to get a lot of time on the bike.

There is riding to cater for every level and for all tastes. The official downhill tracks consist of digger-formed berms, rollers and jumps with the most challenging track being that of the Avalanche Cup downhill race, which boasts towering corners, super high speeds and massive launches. Cross-country rides can offer anything from valley-floor trails to beastly climbs into the backcountry and more-or-less any terrain imaginable. For singletrack fiends there are endless delights in the shape of soft, loamy trails under the forest canopy with technical rooty, rocky challenges a-plenty and rarely a hint of man-made structures or, indeed, other trail users. Rides are generally long with descents ranging from 15 to 50minutes and above.

Trails for the large part traverse the mighty mountain but incorporate rocky, rooty sections making them best suited to all-mountain bikes with kneepads and backpack a must.

Fly to Geneva or drive from Calais – it’s roughly a 9 hour trip but don’t forget to factor in the French road tolls when considering price.

www.TrailAddiction.com
www.BikeVillage.co.uk

Stage races aren’t for the unfit, but the allure of back-to-back days on the bike, epic landscapes and tough competition makes them some of the most rewarding events to take part in.

If you’re up for a challenge and want the ultimate goal to prepare for, stick a stage race on your calendar.

Without doubt one of the biggest events on the mountain bike calendar, the Cape Epic is an eight day race through the stunning landscape around Cape Town. I raced it a couple of years ago and it left an indelible imprint on my memory. The terrain is fantastically challenging and the conditions are hot; it’s incredibly dusty. You get value for money as well, with 800km of racing and over 15,000m of climbing over some of the most magnificent passes in South Africa.

The Absa Cape Epic – a classic event and the epitome of stage racing. Rachel Fenton will be covering this year’s event for Bike Magic.

Rachel Fenton will be covering the 2013 event for Bike Magic, read her introducing feature here.

Event website: Absa Cape Epic 2013

A stage race that places more emphasis on the quality of the trails than the distance of climbing – though with seven stages and 60km each day it’s not lightweight – and even includes timed gravity stages. Traversing from Vancouver to Whistler, it’s one of riders who really appreciate their technical riding and don’t want to follow a training plan to prepare for it. Sounds fantastic, only problem is it’s so popular it’s already sold out. 2014 though…

Event website: BC Bike Race 2013

It may be ‘only’ three days of racing, but it’s widely reported by anyone who has taken part to be one of the toughest challenges on a mountain bike. In the three days you’ll ride 259km and climb over 6,300m, my legs hurt just reading those stats. Racing from the Pacific west coast to the Caribbean east coast, the terrain is is tough with some of the least hospitable natural terrain to ride/carry/drag the bike over.

Event website: La Ruta de Los Conquistadores 2013

The TransAlps is the oldest stage race on the calendar and the event that proved racing for a week is popular with mountain bikers, as it went on to spawn many rivals for its crown. It’s an eight day race across the Alps and as you might imagine there’s a fair amount of climbing, a sweat inducing 20,000m! That’s over twice the height of Everest. And it’s packed into 680km. Ouch. For endurance riders, this has to be the ultimate challenge.

Event website: TransAlps 2013

The Crocodile Trophy, which has been running for 18 years, has to be one of the toughest of the stage races, and that’s without considering the chance of encountering an actual croc. The race is run over nine stages, totalling 855km, with some days well over 147km in distance and with 2,700m of climbing. There’s also the extreme heat of the tropical North Queensland to contend with.

Event website: Crocodile Trophy 2013

A few other events I didn’t have space to mention include Iron Bike, TransPortugal, TransGermany, Yak Attack, TransRockies, Trans Pyr and of course there’s the Andalucia Bike Race which we covered extensively last week. I’m sure there a few more I’ve missed too.

Which have you got your sights on?