Scotland - Lammermuirs
a cycling dunce sent to roam excels a dunce kept at home
by Henk Francino
You must be really stupid to be called a dunce. But the only living soul I met in Duns could well have been a dunce. Before starting my round trip of the Lammermuirs I wanted to see the Covenanters Stone on Duns Law. So I left the bike at the entrance to the castle. Walking up the path to the Law there came this jogger on his way down.
"Hello!"
"Hello!"
"Going up for the stone?"
"Yes"
"Nothing to see there, save your energy, bye"
"Bye"
Nothing to see?! Stupid man. Apart from the commemorative stone the panorama is breathtaking and much of the inviting landscape I would be cycling through today beckoned.
On the bike again I left Duns on the A6105, turning right at Pouterlany, following the road to Longformacus as far as Hardens Hill. Turning right here I soon found out it was a hard hill indeed. Steep climb to the top, taking the path leading to the right. Going down for a while, then climbing again to the top of Black Hill. Two crows and a windhover had an argument above my head, flying north to... Owl Wood. The owl was apparently asleep as I walked down the remaining mile along the Southern Upland Way as far as the B6355.
At Ellemford Bridge I crossed the river and steering a north-western course climbed up the path to Blackcleugh Rig. To the west the Lammermuir Hills were showing off their undulating hilly robes, with the Whiteadder reservoir watching them like a one-eyed judge in a beauty contest. Picking up a better path north of Harehead I followed the edge of a wooded area, a perfect place for a rest. Or so I thought, until H.M. Royal Air Force spotted me and sent in two reconnaissance aircraft and a striker. The deafening noise and bone-rattling vibrations sent me flying downhill along Spartleton Edge and a steep patch of road west of Whiteadder Water. On the path near Penshiel I met a couple of sturdy walkers, judging from their clothing and gear they were well prepared for the next ice age, although the current temperature had reached tropical levels.
Faseny Water was a mere trickle, my camel-bag contained twice as much, yet. The next hill took its toll (not much water left in the camel after this) but past Killpallet there followed a two miles handicap downhill, excellent training ground for rough-stuff diehards, highly recommended!
From Byrecleugh I followed Dye Water eastwards as far as Longformacus. After some thirty real rough-stuff rolling miles I sped back to Duns. There were more living souls around now. The one in the hotel bar even managed to pump up a well deserved pint of bitter, no mean feat for a dunce (no offence implied)!