Night rider
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Leaving the streets behind, John Davidson heads off road and into the woods for a night-time mountain bike ride
It’s completely dark as I leave the office but the orange glow of street lights helps guide my journey homewards before I meet up with a friend who is going to show me what cycling at night really means.
Leaving the comforting half-light of the city streets, Sandy Roger and I head away from Inverness on the Great Glen Way and soon our only visibility comes from the lights on our bikes.
Admittedly, these lights are a little more serious than your average flashing LED lights – you can light up a trail as though you’re shining car headlights at it with these beams – but it’s still an unusual experience as I head out of my comfort zone and deep into the woods around Dunain Hill.
We pause after the initial stiff climb to take in the view over Inverness, a mass of orange lights shining into the pitch black which surrounds us. I’m slightly reassured as we see a collection of head torches moving our way, which turns out to be a large group of runners descending via a nearby field – telling me that, while what we’re doing is slightly mad, it’s not totally out of the ordinary.
I know this trail well having walked, run and cycled this stretch many times, so that gives me some confidence as we set off again along the path, a little faster now as it flattens out past a small reservoir and into the cover of the trees.
The headlamps create a tunnel of light which makes the whole trail feel narrow and enclosed but thankfully we’re not doing anything too intricate or technical and it’s easy to follow the route through a few gates and onto the old drove road that leads to Blackfold.
Here we can get moving and enjoy the experience. I’m comfortable now concentrating on the path, watching the front wheel and the trail ahead as far as the lights will allow. I had thought I would feel a bit spooked out here, relying on my batteries to light the way, but with Sandy there as well it felt like any other bike ride, albeit with less of a view to look at. Perhaps if I was out here on my own it might have been different.
Shortly before reaching Blackfold Sandy stops and points off the main route to a narrow twisting path through the trees. “We can cut across this bit,” he tells me – and he’s serious. Sandy’s a much more skilled mountain biker than me but he knows my limited abilities, so I trust his judgement and follow him into the blackness.
This little twisting trail bumps across the forest floor to another track that leads back below Dunain Hill. We pass more familiar territory as we return towards the city and descend via the locally well-known zigzags, where Sandy shows off some of his skills by taking the steep shortcuts that cut out the hairpin bends.
Not that I see him, as my cable keeps coming undone, leaving me literally in the dark. I stop quickly each time, trying to adjust the wires so that they won’t disconnect again and, after three or four goes, I’m back in business and on my way down – sticking to the main zigzags, of course.
We hit a long straight at the bottom and Sandy diverts left, deeper into the trees, as I continue at what feels like a decent speed on the bumpy but wide track, applying the brakes for a sharp left which I can only properly see after I turn the handlebars to light the way. This is where a headtorch as well as the bike lights would have helped, allowing me to take a glimpse at what was around the corner before I steered into it.
I nearly come a cropper on a steep drop-off heading down to some cottages but manage to stop myself just in time. Then we cross a gate to pick up a great little path that drops down to meet the A82 – but Sandy has other ideas here, too. There’s a good stretch of singletrack that follows the ridge to our left, and I’ve never tried it out even in the day. But this evening I’m on it!
We’re ducking and turning to avoid the tightly packed trees, trying to follow the vague trail and avoid slipping too much on the damp roots below. At one point I think I’ve lost the way with Sandy so far ahead and me left here in the darkness. I stop and then just try sticking to the ridge until a couple of seriously steep descents have me hard on the brakes; the last one beats me and I get off the bike to walk (and slide!) the final stretch.
From here we cross the main road and head back through the old Torvean quarry to the canal towpath for an easy ride back to the bright lights of Inverness.
It’s been a great experience and one I’m certain I will repeat, especially as the day before our ride I was roped into entering the Strathpuffer, a 24-hour mountain bike event in the woods around Strathpeffer and Contin which takes place – whatever the weather – in January. Plenty of practice is definitely in order before then, so you’d better pass me that battery charger...
