It’s hard to put into words all that our trails do for us, they’re there for us in darkness and in light, they guide us through thick and thin, and are a source of constant joy and challenge.
Recognising that our wild spaces are personal to each and every one of us is what planted the seed for our new movement: ‘These Are My Trails’. To mark the launch of this new adventure, it only felt right to start from where this campaign did; reflecting on how our trails make us feel. To reminisce about the things we learnt from them, the things we saw, the things we felt. So, we sat down with our champ of a new A-TEAMer, Laurence Ward to listen to his story about his trails.
It was mid-September, and my better half had planned a weekend getaway after I'd been working away from home in Aberdeen. True to form, I trusted her to find and organise somewhere for us to stay and park the van for the night. After finishing work, we met up, and I was given a destination to drive to. Without further questioning, I punched the postcode into Google Maps, and we embarked on our weekend adventure into the Cairngorms National Park.
We arrived at a forestry car park and before setting up for the night, we took a stroll around the woodland area. Despite my usual obsession with knowing our exact location and planning the next day's journey, it didn't even cross my mind this time. Away from daily life, I simply switched off and enjoyed being in the woods. It turned out we had stopped just outside Ballater, near Heart Break Ridge, a place I'd heard so much about from fellow mountain bikers but had never known where it was or how to get there.
As the evening progressed, I started plotting a sunrise bike ride, realizing what was on our doorstep. By 7 am, I was more awake than a 5-year-old on Christmas morning. With a rough idea of the route, I set off with a vague plan, hoping to make it back in time for breakfast.
Pedalling along the cycle path into Ballater, the crisp autumn air woke me up, and the occasional bleating from sheep in the nearby fields added to the charm. I kept glancing at the hill to my left, wondering if I'd get any views with all the mist and cloud. Going through town felt eerie, as there was also an MTB festival that weekend, and seeing all the bike brand stalls set up with not a soul in sight was quite the scene.
Now the real fun began. For those who've ridden Heart Break Ridge, you'll understand. The climb seemed endless. I was still in low-lying cloud cover, but as I ascended it got brighter, and I could see the sun as a blurred shape through the cloud. I remember thinking, "There's little to no wind, low cloud—am I about to experience a cloud inversion?" I kept pedalling higher until I finally broke through the cloud to an incredible inversion above the town below. The temperature difference was immediate as I basked in direct sunlight.
With nothing but my own breathing to break the silence, any noise captured my attention. Suddenly, I heard a family of deer bouncing across the hill before disappearing into the cloud I had just escaped.
Continuing onwards and upwards, I felt an overwhelming sense of escapism and jubilation. Seeing a cloud inversion on new trails and going solo, not knowing what the route entailed, was an unforgettable experience. YouTube videos don't do trails justice.
The descent from the summit was incredible but challenging in sections, requiring my full attention, especially without my morning coffee. The sense of achievement upon returning to the van, having ridden the full route and taken in all the sights, made it a memorable trail and occasion for me.
If this experience taught me anything, it's this: if it's cloudy where you are, keep pushing higher, and you'll find the sun.
If your trails have taught you anything, what would it be? We’d love to hear it with #TheseAreMyTrails
Words and Images by Laurence Ward
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