Only two miles of our planned 8 were on quiet-ish roads after that, we were onto the cycle path, this lead us all the way to the boundary of Tentsmuir forest, where I had roughly planned for us to sleep for the night.
Road and bike path succesfuly navigated without the bike snapping in half we arrived at Tentsmuir.
Into the woods we battered, fighting to control the buckling, overloaded rockhopper, riding singletracks with never before felt terror and fighting to keep the bike rubber side down.
Roots that would have been unnoticed on any normal day in the woods now saw me tense up as I awaited the inevitable pinch flat that never came
Camp sites were discounted on grounds of ground conditions; too bumpy, too slopey or too woody, according to Lana.
On we rode, we were onto paths that I hadn't ridden before and with large dark clouds looming overhead I was starting to lose confidence that a suitable pitch could be found, was this all a terrible idea? Why didn't I just drive like a normal person?
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