Ben Ledi
I’d been meaning to do this for years – it’s an unmenacing hill, relatively close to civilisation and looked like an ideal one to either kick off or close a year of taking bikes up big hills. But then a few years ago they sanitised it and, based on what my friend Pete was saying about it, it sounded like a total waste of time. But on a sunny weekend in March when no one else was free I thought I’d try it for myself.

It’s not mega death tech. It has been covered in slabs and steps. But sometimes, on a quiet day when there’s no one else about, and there’s no wind, and the sun’s out, it’s really nice to just go really fast. And, snap, just like that – 2,000ft gone in around 11 minutes. And it was really good fun.

Ben Lawers
Back in late April, with a week of the notice I’d given left to go, my boss sacked me. Then refused to pay me. Fortunately, I had another job lined up and I had a week til it started. The week started with 10 Under the Ben, racing in memory of our friend BJ Doherty of this forum who was killed riding on the road in January. But then I had a week to stew and worry about work. A phone call to my great friend Kieran and my knight in shining armour arrived in a big white camper van for a few days’ riding hills in the north.

Ben Lawers was the first stop, and I’ve written about it before so I’ll not bore you but it’s always worth a return visit. Even when the cloud is so low and thick it’s like riding through cotton wool, and the air is damp and chilly. The climb up Beinn Ghlas seems to take forever in this sort of weather with false summit after false summit, but eventually it’s over, there’s a steep push up Lawers and then you get your just desserts.

Once finished, we headed north to Aviemore and pootled about Loch Morlich failing to catch any fish from an inflatable kayak.

Beinn Fhada
A couple of mates, a car, some bikes and a trip to Torridon. What could go wrong? Turns out, the weather. A huge storm was rolling across much of Scotland and England. Scouring the weather forecasts it seemed that if you started to get properly far north the weather would be good, so we headed up to Kintail.

Once the midges cleared, the sunshine came out and off we went. A pine marten flashed across our path as we set off, which felt like a great omen. Despite not being especially massive at 1,032m it takes a long time to get up it – it’s steep, rough and hard work. But the feeling is that the rewards will be stunning.

While I’m a Cairngorms fan to the core, the majesty of the western Highlands is another world and the views from the top are mind blowing. The descent is also thrilling – it starts off as a dull grassy run to the adjacent summit, Meall an Fhuarain Moir, but this lets you dice with death on the precipitous singletrack around the corrie on the way back to the descent. The descent doesn’t have anything unrideable in it but it’s not easy – tight switchbacks, big rocks, steep slopes. It really had it all, I’d be tempted to say it was my favourite hill of the year.

Also, while I know it’s not on- props to whoever had left the (very faint) motorbike tracks all the way to the summit, that must have been a hell of a ride.

Beinn A Bhuird
This has been on my to do list for about 5 years now, and on a day where thunderstorms were forecast I got up at dawn to dodge the rain and get it ticked off. The whole of the route to the summit feels like you’re sneaking up on the hill – rolling along the gentle landrover track up Glen Quoich you can’t see the hill at all until you’re basically right at the base of it, then the climb starts proper. The climb is completely rideable with a bit of grunt, and it acts like the summit isn’t there, climbing nonchalantly to the west of it, parallel to where you actually want to go.

Near the top, the track flicks right and you then boomerang around the summit to bag the South and North tops before returning. It’s another very fast one – there’s no technical features whatsoever, just a thin ribbon of that fine Cairngorm gravel twisting around the flank of the hill. It only took about 10 minutes to get down it and I’m not 100% sure it was worth the effort, but a nice sunny morning in the hills is never wasted. I’d be interested to see if the descent of Glas Allt Mor from Ben Avon is any better.

Ben Venue
Last time I was here I remember thinking that the climb I went up would have been a better descent and so I decided to have another go. It was yet another day with biblical rain forecast so once again I got up before dawn to make sure I was off the hill before I got drowned.
Clouds were rolling over the flanks of the hill with sun peeping through, it was a magical day to be in the hills. It turns out Ben Venue is, despite not being a munro, is a tough climb. I was thinking it was hard going when I met a couple of walkers who both said the same thing. The reward is an inevitably tough descent – in a lot of places it’s fast and flowy but there’s regular large features that take some getting over. All in all it was a much more enjoyable ride than the descent off the southern end of the hill.

Whiteless Pike
I’d hoped to have a go at the Lad Hows descent off Grasmoor but the top bit sounded a bit too technical for the group we were with so a revisit to Whiteless Pike was in order. This was a tougher descent than I’d remembered – we’d barely got going when one of the party had landed on her face. Despite this mishap it was such a great descent – some of the gnadgerier bits were really spicy, especially with a bit of grease on them from the preceding week’s rain.

Principal among these was a left hand hairpin that required you to hop round on a slab that was like a banana skin, and get over a particularly slimy bit with a good amount of speed. The problem was that, to do this, you had to go fast at an enormous precipice. It was exceptionally thrilling. After a few more slabs, lumpy ruts and other bits that take all your attention you get to open the taps to the pub in Buttermere on a grassy hillside.