Adventure when you least expect it

It could have been just another normal evening ride on a nice and clear day, but it turned into a little adventure. One of those adventures that make you remember days that you would not otherwise remember. With having the pleasure of the Ochills right next to my workplace, I set out for a quick ride at 16.30, after quickly buying two spokes to fix the cross bike, which had decided to make a spoke redundant on Sunday’s ride. Riding up a steep and rather path-like road up to Sherrifmuir, I was soon up on an open plateau riding in the low sunlight. Despite the terrible condition of the road, it was a lovely ride, so I kept on riding. Something in me told me that I had already once underestimated the length of that stretch, but the turn-off (and the sensible option) to go down again to Dunblane came to soon, so I kept carrying on. I also ignored the next road to my left, and finally descended into Blackford, a few miles further north. By then the sun had set already, and unfortunately I had forgotten my front lights, but at least had the rear light still on the bike. And there was still some good light left to navigate fine, so I headed back South again, only to be stuck in Braco and a little bit further down the road in Greenloaning. By then it was uncomfortable to ride without lights, and I did not really know what my options would be. The next pub would tell me. The people inside seemed to be rather surprised to see somebody walking in in Lycra that time of the day, but very helpful. Unfortunately I only had two options. One of the was cycling down the suicidal A9, a double-lane almost motorway, the other one was a steep climb up to Sherrifmuir and then the rather potholed road down to Bridge of Allan in the dark. With a bit of thinking that was no option as well, and the last bus had just passed while in the pub. You can call that bad luck, and it might have been. So the only option left was hitch hiking, but with the bike! I had done the same back in 2006 with Martin when crossing the Highlands, back in the days with 2 bikes. So there I was, standing in the dark, in fast lycra under a street lamp, to make myself as much visible as I could. It felt a wee bit strange, and it was cold by then. All I had on was a merino top, a jersey and my wind breaker. And I had holes in my shoes (they come with them), which nicely ventilated the cold feet. But I knew it would be my only chance, or to walk 7 miles with road shoes, a rather impossible project, I would have been faster barefoot. By that time I treated the whole thing bot as sheer stupidity, but as dealing with unexpected situations. Cars, SUVs, vans passed, and after a wee while the smallest car imaginable pulled in! My confidence in Scotland was restored, and the driver even gave me a hand taking wheels out and fitting all in the tiny boot of the car. By that time a normal day had turned into a story. And into a good one!