Posts Tagged ‘Ben Nevis’
Extreme unicycling on Mount Everest
We’ve written about unicycling before as an extreme sport on its own and shown videos of how the art should be practiced but when you combine unicycling with Mount Everest, at the same time, surely you must be talking of an extreme extreme. Would you not agree? Either that or this guy should take a vacation in the nearest mental asylum – unicycling on Mount Everest? You gotta be kidding…….no, then read on.
It may be loved by clowns and jugglers, but the unicycle would hardly be the vehicle of choice for anyone tackling Mount Everest.
Except for extreme unicyclist Steve Colligan… who intends to do just that to get into the record books.
The father of two will have to overcome 5,000m (16,400ft) mountains, minus 15°C temperatures and negotiate the world’s largest downhill ride, all on one wheel.
His 1,000km (600-mile) ride across the roof of the world will take him along the backbone of the Himalayas from Lhasa in Tibet to Kathmandu in Nepal, via Everest base camp.
Mr Colligan, who has been unicycling for eight years, has specialised in mountain unicycling – muni to aficionados – for six years.
He has ridden down Snowdon five times, Scafell Pike in the Lake District twice and Ben Nevis (twice off-road) and along the Great Wall of China. But he describes this 25-day trip as ‘my biggest challenge yet’.
Mr Colligan said: ‘This will be 1,000km of unicycling across five mountain passes over 5,000m high, with the biggest decent in the world, at 4,600m. The route will go via Everest base camp on the Tibetan side.
‘Most the riding will be dirt roads, so I’m taking my distance unicycle, fitted with an off-road tyre.
‘The second part of my trip to the Himalayas will be riding down many 5,000m peaks in Nepal.’
The 47-year-old, from Manchester, is undertaking the feat next week to raise money to build a school in Nepal.
He added: ‘This is going to be an extreme ride, but what an experience it will be.’ To follow his progress see www.unicyclesteve.com
You know you’ve got to admire the guy – not only is this one of the craziest extreme sporting challenges that we have come across and so one can but imagine the self esteem that he will engender if he is successful – he certainly won’t be lost for a story at his next dinner party or when his grandson asks him ‘What did you do Grandad?’ – but the fact is that this extreme will raise money for the building of a school in a place where education is badly needed, and the resources to educate are even scarcer.
Here are some facts that I picked up from Wikipedia: the national literacy rate for those over 15 was reported to be 48.2% (female: 34.6%, male: 62.2%) in the Population Census of 2001, up from about 5% in 1952/54, schooling for the general population only began in 1951 – before that it had been reserved for the ruling classes.
Wikipedia goes on to say: ‘Despite examples of success, there are still many problems and challenges. Educational management, quality, relevance, access are some of the critical issues of education in Nepal. Societal disparities based on gender, ethnicity, location, economic class, etc. are yet to be eliminated. Resource crunch has always been a problem in education. These problems have made the goal of education for all a challenge for the country.’
So good luck Steve – we hope you raise a lot of money and have a great trip – we look forward to keeping tags on your progress.
Thanks to Jo Steele of the Metro.co.uk for this article.
Coast to coast on a mountain bike.
This great tale of a mountain biking adventure is brought to you by Rob Penn from The Guardian – it sounds like the kind of journey that you have to do to be able to call yourself a ‘mountain biker’. Pictured below is Rob at the head of Glen Cairn.
‘I have found a new place for my ashes to be scattered. It’s in heart of the Highlands, on the north-south watershed in the Cairngorms, at a glacial T-junction looking up towards the central massif. Such places may abound in the Australian Outback and Alaska, but on our busy little island they are rare. And this one’s a gem. The grid reference is NJ193026. Go there as soon as you can.
It’s not easy to get to, of course. Antony, Dave, Spencer and I arrived there under a lowering sky after two hard days in the saddle. We were a third of the way into a 200-mile, off-road, mountain biking ride from the North Sea to the Atlantic, across the broad waist of Scotland, an adventure billed by the influential American magazine Outside as one of its ‘10 trips of a lifetime’.
The Scottish coast-to-coast is an epic and deserves respect. We had assiduously planned our four-day ride from Aberdeen to Fort William following disused railway lines, Land Rover tracks, medieval drovers’ routes, forest footpaths, 18th-century military roads, canal towpaths and, inevitably, sections of road. We had carefully chosen the time of year (mid-May), plotted the route on a stack of OS maps, booked accommodation, serviced our bikes, bought the right kit and trained.
On the first morning, we sped out of Aberdeen along the old Deeside railway, lined with electric yellow broom. At Banchory, we crossed the tan-brown river Dee in sunshine. Climbing beside the Water of Feugh, we caught the first glimpses of the dark, heather-clad hills, burnt-back with rectangular shapes like a Rothko painting. The world seemed right; our progress was good.
But climbing into the Birse forest, there was a metallic crunch and Spencer’s bike stopped dead. The damage – a mangled chain and a shorn mech hanger – was beyond our limited tool kit. Salvation, however, came in the form of Moira Gray, a shepherd’s wife, who drove home to pick up the very tool we lacked. ‘Ah remember be-ann stuck ah Glenshee un a snowstorm wi’oot a chain tool,’ she said in her delightful brogue. ‘An ah heed ta help ya oot.’
But we were papering over cracks, and limping over the Hill of Duchery on the ‘Fungle Road’, an ancient drovers’ thoroughfare connecting Deeside with Glen Esk in Aberdeenshire, the bike seized again.
Next morning, the chef at the Loch Kinord Hotel drove Spencer into Ballater with the crippled bike. At Cyclehighlands, the excellent shop on the town square, Richard did his best, without success. He was, however, so keen for us continue on our adventure, he agreed to rent us a bike and drive to Fort William to collect it.
By midday, we were heading up Glen Gairn into the mountains. The gentrified scenery of the Dee valley gave way to rough farmland, stone walls and granite cottages with antlers above the porches. Beside the humpback bridge at Gairnshiel, we turned north-west onto the moors, passing flocks of plovers, curlews and oystercatchers on the flats beside the peaty river. Lapwings with their conspicuous, wavering flight, flapped and ducked overhead. Further up the glen, the air was filled with the liquid song of skylarks, and approaching Corndavon bothy we put up the first grouse: the plump, slightly comical bird sprang from the heather beside the track and wheeled away from us, cackling.
After two days of almost unbroken sunshine, the sky darkened as we neared the snow-dappled mountains. ‘This is big country,’ Dave said tremulously, at the confluence of Glens Gairn and Builg, where I would like my ashes to be scattered. On the footpath past Loch Builg, a section that tested our riding skills, the first pellets of rain began to fall. Descending steep-sided Glen Builg, the intensity redoubled and roared back and forth across the Builg burn; we were soon soaked. At Inchrory, a grand Highland stalking lodge above the river Avon, the track improved dramatically and, with the scent of a pub apparent, we tore through the last eight miles to Tomintoul.
Grey skies, stiff bodies and perhaps a dram too many made for a slow start on day three. Snipe zigzagged out of the rushes as we struggled across a bog to reach the river in Glen Brown, but the avian highlight was passing through a picturesque rock-cleavage in the delightfully named Braes of Abernethy. Dave and I were waiting in the heather when a golden eagle with a 2m wingspan wafted silently overhead. It was an electrifying sight.
Descending from the braes, we made our way into a stand of Caledonian pine forest. The like covered most of Scotland at the end of the last Ice Age; less than 1 per cent remains. This landscape of scattered birch, rowan, juniper and statuesque Scots pines has a profound sense of antiquity. ‘You half expect to see a grey wolf bounding up the hill,’ Spencer said.
Hunched over our bikes, we hurtled down the track past Ryvoan bothy into the Rothiemurchus forest. Increasingly confident in our mountain biking skills, we negotiated the fine mix of single-track and forest rides to reach the river Spey as the lights illuminating the Ruthven Barracks by Kingussie began to glow.
Our last day was always going to be a struggle – 70-plus miles, crossing the Monadhliath mountains via the 750m Corrieyairack Pass. The Hermitage Guesthouse set us up with a mighty breakfast and the first 20 miles, following the Spey through Newtownmore and Laggan, were a good warm-up.
The English General Wade built the road in 1731 as part of a grand scheme to suppress Jacobite rebellion in the Highlands with troop mobility and good communications. It didn’t work, of course – the Jacobites rose again in 1745 and, ironically, passed this way.
Yet Wade’s roads are enduring feats of engineering, expertly tracing the contours of the land, and they’re as busy today with walkers and mountain bikers as they were with English soldiers 250 years ago.
Evans Cycles had generously leant us bikes for the ride, to assess whether a full-suspension or a hard-tail (front suspension only) was most suitable. On the long, tough ascent to the Corrieyairack Pass, much of it pushing the steeds amid patches of thick snow, we concluded that the lighter, hard-tail bikes were ideal for a multi-day adventure in Scotland. We gave the bikes, and our back teeth, a rattling on the hour-long belter of a descent from the pass down to Fort Augustus in the Great Glen.
As we reached Loch Oich, the sun was waning slowly, like us. We had three hours to cycle 30 miles to reach Fort William and catch the Caledonian Sleeper. As lambent light filled the glen, we raced beneath Ben Nevis, dreaming of being lulled to sleep by the ‘ta-dum, ta-dum’ of the lolloping train.’
Essentials
Wilderness Scotland (0131 625 6635; wildernessscotland.com) runs seven-day guided and supported coast-to-coast trips, from Aberdeen to the tip of the Ardnamurchan peninsula.
First ScotRail (08457 55 00 33 ; firstgroup.com/scotrail) operates a daily sleeper from Fort William to London Euston; one-way ‘Bargain Berth’ tickets, booked in advance, cost from £19.
The Hermitage Guesthouse in Kingussie (01540 662137; thehermitage.clara.net) has five en-suite bedrooms and serves a great cyclists’ breakfast (from £28 per person).
Ben Nevis is the Scene of a Charity Endurance Race
Yet another record was made yesterday – wheelchairs marching to the top of a mountain.
In an extreme race, eight teams of non-disabled people pushed specially-designed wheelchairs up Britain’s highest summit to raise cash for Scope and Capability Scotland.
Six groups made it to the top, with the winning team reaching the summit in five hours and 45 minutes. Each team, made up of 6 people, was directed to the summit by the wheelchair user. The winning group was team Lombard.
Ben Nevis is Britain’s highest peak at 1,344m (4,406ft). Attaining the summit is no mean feat…
In 1999, for example, there were 41 rescues and 4 fatalities on the mountain. Some accidents arise over difficulties in navigating to or from the summit especially in poor visibility and the ‘The Ben’ as the mountain is locally known, frequently has unusually poor weather conditions,
The problem stems from the fact that the summit plateau is roughly kidney shaped and surrounded by cliffs on three sides; the danger is particularly accentuated when the main path is obscured by snow. Snow can be found on the mountain almost all year round particularly on the north flank. Two precise compass bearings taken in succession are necessary to navigate from the summit cairn to the west flank, where a descent can be made on the Pony Track in relative safety.
Beyond Boundaries
Ex-SAS commando Ken Hames organised the race with the BBC for their series Beyond Boundaries. He has already led teams of disabled people through the Andes.
“A brilliant achievement”
Mr. Hames described the event, which began at 6 a.m., as “a brilliant achievement, “going on to say “the teams did fantastically well. We’re all knackered and can’t wait to get back down to get ourselves a well-deserved pint.”
Alan Dickson, chief executive of Capability Scotland, said it was hoped the race would raise £100,000, as well as changing society’s perceptions about disabled people by demonstrating that disability has no boundaries.
Ben Nevis conquered by wheelchairs on Saturday and on Tuesday we wait to see how Michael Fournier does – In the meantime I wonder what records will be blasted today and tomorrow…
Extreme mountain biking
With spring in the air and folk dusting off their bikes I want to tell you about the toughest form of mountain biking – and appropriately enough its known as extreme cross country (XC) mountain biking!
As full-suspension bikes – those with suspension at the front and rear, capable of handling the toughest terrain – become the norm, extreme cross-country (XC) mountain biking that pushes bike and rider further than ever has never been more popular.
In Britain a new generation of man-made trails, built by enthusiasts to provide more challenging routes, have sprung up in the mountains of Scotland and Wales, while the Witch’s Trails in Fort William, near Ben Nevis, is about the toughest you will find.
However, even these pale into insignificance when seen against the trail in Whistler, British Columbia known simply as Comfortably Numb. The trail was built by local legend Chris Markle, who set about building it with spades, axes and a chainsaw. Because there’s no access for JCB diggers every part had to be crafted by hand, cutting trees that had fallen naturally to make wooden pathways and to negotiate boggy patches or water crossings.This is one of the toughest slices of man-made XC track in the world and unlike straight downhill mountain biking, XC requires the rider to go up as well as down, and is far more technically challenging.
Comfortably Numb starts at 2,067ft then rises to 3,323ft at the highest point before dropping back to 2,346ft at the finish. The whole ride covers 15 miles and along the way riders must negotiate near-vertical rocky drops, cross mountain streams and weave between giant trees.
It has been rated by the Canadians as a “black diamond” XC trail (the toughest grade there is) and is super-technical from start to finish. Section after section requires 90-100% effort to haul your way over huge roots and up steep rocky trails.
You need to allow between four to eight hours to complete it – four hours for ultra-fit pro XC racers, six to eight hours for strong and experienced endurance mountain bikers. Whoever you are you are going to have to keep a cool head and demonstrate a skill and endurance which will test you to the extreme. To whet your appetite I have included a short clip from the Comfortably Numb trail at Whistler. Your turn next!