Blairadam - Brief blurb about a bite-sized bivvy break by bicycle

It would be fair to say that I’m not very talented but I am good at one thing at least and that's hunting out the best wild camping spots. Often, you can look at a map to guess a good spot and other times, you just follow your nose to find one. In the hills or more quiet parts of Scotland, it’s not difficult at all to find good wild camp spots but in the central belt, which is largely towns and farmland, it can be much more tricky. In these places, I often look for patches of forestry which have paths or tracks leading into them. These almost always offer up a spot and provide some cover as well.

You don’t always get a good view in the woods of course, so I wasn’t expecting much as I pulled into Blairadam Forest in Fife late one day looking to camp. Scanning the map beforehand, I had spotted that a track ran close to the edge of the forestry on Cowden Hill. I wondered if it might provide a pitch that was a bit more open. I cycled through the forest then investigated a more faint track towards the edge of the hill. Sure enough, it yielded a beautiful bivvy spot.

Here on the flank of Cowden Hill was a flat shelf of grass beside the remains of an old wall which provided some shelter from the chill, autumn wind. So I unloaded my bike and rolled out my bivvy bag. A steep field bounded by broadleaf trees fell away in front of me to the farmhouses below. So sharp was the drop that house martins swooped past at my eye level. At dusk, I loved watching the farmhouse lights come on in the windows which emanated a cosy glow. The rest of the forest stretched out behind me and echoed with hooting owls. But it was the bigger view from my bivvy that was quite wonderful as it looked over to Loch Leven. The rugged peaks of the Lomond Hills were the backdrop to the loch and the foreground was filled by the sweeping lines of the north slope of Benarty Hill. When it was fully dark the streetlights of Kinnesswood, on the far side of the loch, created a cluster of orange lights that crept up the slopes of Bishop Hill. Down below, the headlights of vehicles on the motorway passed noiselessly back and forward. What a great spot!

It was a joy to find the place after a day of cycling on this mini tour close to home. I had taken a short train ride to Dunfermline then pedalled along the West Fife Cycleway to Alloa. From here I picked up the Devon Way to Dollar. It was a dream cycling so far on these traffic free routes. Both are lined by trees for much of their way so you tend to lose track of exactly where you are. But when the route opened up a little, I had views over farmland to the River Forth and eventually to the steep flanks of the Ochil Hills.

From Dollar, there was an enjoyable network of tiny farm roads that linked up to take me to Cleish. The only disadvantage of these roads, especially at harvest time, is that you are likely to meet a huge tractor at some point with no room to pass! From Cleish, I made the steep cycle up the Nivinsgton Road, passing through Nivinsgton Crags. I’ve discovered this road quite recently for cycling and have quickly grown to love it. It’s steep but can be ridden even with a loaded bicycle. At the top there are expansive views over the quaint patchwork of farms which is juxtapositioned with the wildness of the loch and hills. At the top of the climb, I turned onto the dirt trails that criss-cross Blairadam Forest to source my bivvy spot for the night.

I'd brief company after supper when two mountain bikers stopped by. They were  friendly, local lads from Dunfermline and Milnathort, and wished me a good evening before heading off. It was peaceful thereafter. Droplets of water on the bivvy in the morning indicated that there must have been a shower of rain overnight but I'd slept well and was unaware. I'd planned a very short second day to get home ahead of a big storm. The wind was already picking up as I packed up, so I cycled down to Loch Ore to make breakfast. The wind whipped up the surface of the water here but the shrubbery provided a bit of shelter to make some hot coffee and porridge. From Loch Ore, a couple of miles of cycling took me to the nearest station for a train ride home to end my bite-sized break.

Fact File

More photos incl stuff on the old railway lines Here

Start: Dunfermline

Finish: Lochgelly

Public transport: Train to Dunfermline Town station; 

train back from Lochgelly station.

Route: West Fife Cycleway/National Cycle Route 764 from Dunfermline to Alloa which links to the Devon Way to Dollar. Out of Dollar took the hill road which goes round the back of Law Hill. This allowed me to avoid the A91. Where it met the A91, I turned right then a quick left towards Rumbling Bridge. Straight over the A823 for a back road to Crook of Devon. The unclassified roads to the south and east of Crook of Devon link up to Cleish to avoid the B9097 which is quite busy. Took first right after Cleish to climb the Nivingston Road then the track into the forest on the left at the top of the climb. Exited Blairadam via the Maryburgh path which I would avoid in future as there were four locked gates to get the bike over and a lot of mud and cowpats. At Maryburgh turned right on the B966 which has a good shared path beside it and took the route into Lochore Meadows signed to the left from this road. Out the far side, the B920 is a busy road into Lochgelly but has a good cycle path beside it.

Angus - Glamping

Once a year my friend Graham and I make one outdoor trip where we stay in a campsite which, compared to wild camping, is our own take on glamping. We use Graham’s car for the trip so we are also able to take a table and chairs. As well as not having to dig a hole to go to the toilet, this is the ultimate in camping luxury. Our glamping trip this year was to a lovely campsite outside of Edzell in Angus.  

After two hours of travelling in the car, we were champing at the bit to get out on the bikes by the time we parked up in Edzell. A lovely farm road whisked us west through undulating fields before turning north to make an incredibly steep climb to the bealach between two hills. These were the White and Brown Caterthuns whose tops are the sites of ancient hill forts. We chained up the bikes and picked our way up the heathery slopes of White Caterthun. A pretty stand of larch trees diverted us so we had our picnic in their dappled shade before continuing to the top. 

As we crested the rise, what remains of the stone walls of the old fort lay in a loose circle around the top of the hill. I was surprised at the size of the place which covered all of the summit. It’s thought that the hill fort on White Caterthun was built by the Picts in the early years AD, while that on Brown Caterthun is older. The view from the top was panoramic as these little hills occupy a fairly isolated position. To the north, the southern Grampians started to muster some height and far to the south, we could see the silvery glimmer of the Firth of Tay. There was not a sound up there that day except the wind rustling the heather. It made it easier to close my eyes and try to imagine the past. After walking the extent of the fort, we returned to the bikes and plummeted down the other side of the hill. Another pleasant back road took us back to Edzell and onto our campsite. 

The campsite was centred around a large duck pond. There were lots of mature trees in the grounds and we set our table up under one of these, an old birch tree. In the evening we watched four bats flying back and forth above our tents, no doubt enjoying the last of the year’s midges. In the morning, it was the turn of the house martins to feast on the bugs and when they’d finished, they gathered on the overhead wires, looking like notes on a music sheet. 

On the middle day of our glamping trip, we made the long cycle from our campsite to the head of Glen Esk. A lovely road meandered into the hills which were a vibrant mix of russet bracken and the lingering hues of purple heather. The woods were still green though and the rowans heavy with postbox-red berries. 

Where the public road ended, we continued cycling along a gravel track that took us to a ruined chapel on the shores of Loch Lee. We wandered around the little cemetery trying to make out the dates on the old gravestones. Some we thought were 14th century. Then the stiff breeze that was throwing up white horses on the surface of the loch, sent us back down the glen with a welcome tailwind. 

Edzell and our lovely campsite sit on the River North Esk at a point where it runs through a beautiful gorge stuffed with lush woodland. This made for a nice afternoon walk into the village for coffee, though the latter part of the east side path became quite adventurous with some scrambling up and down tree roots. A further frisson of excitement was added to our walk when we passed two old gents who said of the bridge that we had to take back across the river “rather you than me”. The beech trees along this walk were stunning with leaves that were as vibrant a green as if they had just emerged in spring. The river was equally lovely. At times it was a thunderous torrent through deep chasms and at other times it was slow and peaceful, forming enticing pools. Graham didn’t agree with me when I said I wished we had brought our swimming wetsuits. 

The nice thing about Angus is that its scenery is really quite varied. So for the last day of our glamping trip, we left the hills behind to head to the coast at Arbroath and enjoy the wonderful cycle path that runs along the links here. It wasn’t a long ride but it was lovely. The North Sea was sapphire blue today and so clear was the view that we could make out the Bell Rock lighthouse, eleven miles offshore. The path was lined by the last of the summer flowers – scabious, clover and yarrow – and ran along a strip of land between the beach and the railway line. 

It deposited us at the old harbour. It was a fine place to linger and watch the world go by before heading home.