Bikes are the ultimate vehicle of freedom aren’t they?  The freedom to explore and the freedom to be.  Throw in a tent, some provisions and some like minded folk, and you have yourself a bike packing rally.  This spring, we took part in a unique event, and the first of it’s kind in Scotland, the Roam Scotland Rally. 

This was inspired in part by the Torino Nice Rally and in part, by Scotland’s right to roam.  The first Roam Scotland Rally took place in 2019, with a small hiatus for Covid, we signed ourselves up for the next one in May this year.  For 2022, the Grand Depart was at Lamlash on Arran with  around 50 intrepid bike packers from as far flung as Shetland to London in the UK, and Holland, Belgium, Canada and Germany for our international riders.

To roam is to move about or travel aimlessly or unsystematically, especially over a wide area. When this wide area takes you through stunning and rugged parts of the Scottish West Coast, Highlands and Islands, you want a  capable, dependable steed that will cover large distances day after day whilst defying you not to have a ridiculous, goofy grin on your face as you fly down long, snaking hill passes.  A bike that will keep rolling that front wheel up and over craggy, bouldery sections of the West Highland Way as perplexed hill walkers look on in slight disbelief!  Most of the Roamers chose gravel bikes, but for us it was a no brainer that this would be a job for our mile-munching Moxies! The clean lines of our steel hardtail frames affords us plenty of space to fit in bar, frame and saddle bags to carry all of our kit so that we can be self sufficient for the trip.  

Although it is quite acceptable for Roamers to stay in hotels or B&Bs along the way if they like, for us, self sufficiency means carrying our tent/camping gear and other essentials.  These include items such as our water filter, copious amounts of Smidge to keep the pesky midges at bay and a frame bag often bulging with flapjack and bananas! We knew that to be able to cover the daily distances for the long route each day (averaging 100km) we would need to travel light, so for the first time ever, we left behind our camp stove.  This sacrifice shows you just how seriously we were taking this challenge as it meant starting the day without coffee.  Without coffee!!  It also meant that we were able to trim the rolling weight of the loaded bike and kit to around 26kg.

By taking on a challenge that you have hope, but no certainty of successful completion, you can end up surprising yourself with weird and wonderful solutions to the unique scrapes you might find yourself in! Somehow, I managed to damage the master cylinder for my front brake so that it leaked out all of the hydraulic brake fluid, leaving me with no front brake.  The back brake alone could not cope with the weight of my fully loaded bike on the long descents. Back brake duly cooked, I had only my feet left for brakes!

We were many miles from the nearest bike shop, so needed to conjure a better solution than my size 8 soles for brakes.  Whilst there was no bike shop, there was a small cafe so using the resources we had at our disposal, Keith came up with a slightly alarming, but none-the-less effective, braking bodge! He reappeared from the cafe with a cunning plan and a cup of olive oil, much to the amusement and concern of our fellow roamers who had congregated at the cafe. The next tricky technicality was how to inject said oil into the tiny hole on my brake cylinder. Again, the universe provided, with a piece of stout cardboard from the cafe’s recycling bin folded into a v shaped funnel. Carefully, we were able to drip enough olive oil into the system that I had solid, functioning brakes once more.

Returning inside the cafe to buy us some celebratory snacks, the lady who had dispensed the olive oil voiced her concern over our Heath Robinson brake fix and wanted reassurances that we would go directly to the nearest bike shop.  It turned out that this was not necessary as my olive oil worked a treat for the remaining 400km of the trip!

Problems aside, I love the simplicity and the daily rhythm of bike packing.  Pedal, eat, sleep, repeat. Pedal, eat, sleep, repeat. It is a total reset and a tonic for the complexities and distractions of regular life. Time is of little consequence and is more governed by the rising and setting of the sun than by the time piece on your wrist.  We tended to rise about 5,30am as the sun started to warm our tent.  The midgies are out in force, so we quickly pack up the tent and would often have breakfast on the hoof, out of the reach of the biting blighters!  My bar roll and bag make quite a good breakfast table for my spread of banana, granola bar and milkshake. By rising early, we get a good head start too.  Most days the gravel bikes cover the ground fast, so would catch us up at some point and we would have other riders for a spot of company and banter.  The miles fall away quickly whenever you are chatting.  Sometimes it genuinely would make us faster too.  Our 29er Moxies could masquerade for a bit as racey gravel bikes as we would join the efficiency of an impromptu peloton and push our heart rates for as long as we felt like it!

Mostly we pottered along at a more relaxed pace.  This allowed us to drink in the constant supply of incredible views, take pictures and enjoy some of the wildlife around us.  We passed very close to a herd of deer plus geese and goslings on a coastal estate. I nearly rode over a slow worm and although we missed the otters and seals we made up for this by spotting a golden eagle on Mull, although this is not so hard to do as Mull has the highest density of nesting golden eagles in Europe!