Where is Britain’s 'lakiest' day-ride?
A logical circuit, on quiet roads and gravel with great scenery, which visits as many bodies of water as possible?
The Lake District? Nope.
The most blue-splodged area on the UK map is in the Trossachs’ lush, loch-strewn hills an hour north of Glasgow.
The Scottish tourist industry started here in the early 1800s, and it’s a superb place to explore by bike. From the welcoming tourist town of Callander, my circuit took in a dozen lochs – Rusky, Menteith, Ard, Dhu, Chon, Arklet, Lomond, Katrine, Arkaig, Drunkie, Venachar and Lubnaig.
All was on tarmac or (mostly) decent forest gravel, with modest climbs, plenty of cafes and awesome scenery all the way. Here’s how it went…
Loch 1. Rusky
Callander is a delightful small gateway town, with friendly shops and pubs. Some advertise ‘Scottish tablet’.
This is neither narcotic pharmaceutical nor Silicon Glen tech, but a hybrid of fudge and Kendal mint cake unlikely to impress NHS dentists. For my snack bag, I buy a Scotch pie instead.
It’s raining. Of course. I’ve cycled in the Trossachs half-a-dozen times, and it’s been misty and wet on about six of them.
The main road south out of town is a quiet climb to the first loch, Rusky (pronounced ‘roo-ski’, like the Russian for ‘Russian’). It’s small, fenced-off and inaccessible without a fishing permit.
But the road freewheels down, the sun pokes through and I can see my next loch, shimmering like Rutland Water on holiday.
Loch 2. Menteith
Locals will tell you this picturesque water is the only lake in Scotland, as all the others are lochs.
That’s not quite true, but it’s a lovely place to visit, with an ancient island monastery.
When Menteith has frozen over, they’ve held curling tournaments here, although, in our warming world, that may never happen again – the last was in 1979.
The upscale pub has an appealing waterside beer garden. I watch the anglers, and chat over a flat white to genial media professionals and retired heads of big-brand companies. They’re cyclists too.
Despite our lifestyles being different orders of magnitude, the bike-based conversation is egalitarian.
Loch 3. Ard
I stop briefly at the splendid Aberfoyle Bike Hire cafe, where staff supply me with a handy map and more coffee.
This is the final village of the day and the last opportunity to stock up on food and bike spares.
Shortly beyond, to the west, is Loch Ard, the first of a series of classic Trossachs-pattern lakes.
The road photogenically hugs its northern shore for a long stretch. Stand-up paddleboarders skim along in the distance like a gaudy flock of exotic ducks.
I ponder on possible gags – ‘if you SUP with the devil…’ – without success. I have no future at the Edinburgh Fringe.
Stand-up is not my core skill, either on water or on stage. I cycle on.
Loch 4. Dhu
‘Doo’ is a pleasant surprise. While planning the route, I’d overlooked it, so it’s a bonus loch.
This modest lakelet is easy to miss on maps, and the water’s edge is a marshy squelch away, so I can’t get that close.
The road is now more of a back lane. And jings, crivvens, help ma boab, it’s as rough and cratered as a moon of Jupiter.
I’m glad I’m on my sturdy gravel bike, 38c tyres and all. (Actually it’s my trad-pattern steel touring bike. Or as we cycle-tourers call it, ‘a bike’.)
Loch 5. Chon
‘Con’ is, despite its name, another reliable loch, framed by mountains and hills. Waterfront lodges nestle serenely amid trees.
There’s easy access at several places for a picnic or wild swim. Well, when it’s hot – whichever day of the year that happens to be.
The back road now heads northeast through woods and over gentle slopes, but the surface is still bad. Some potholes are big enough to be lochs in their own right after heavy rain.
Maybe next time, I’ll bring my off-road tourer and explore the many forest trails and gravel paths round the Trossachs, such as the Statute Labour Road south of here.
Their surfaces can’t be much worse, surely?
Loch 6. Arklet
Leaving the woods, the scenery suddenly gets moortop-ish – heathery and open. Arklet’s expansive loch unfurls in front of me, with a backdrop of jagged peaks.
Like several lakes here, it’s been adapted as a reservoir, and serves the thirsty people of Glasgow. I’m reminded to rehydrate.
There are consequences though. Scotland’s wet summer has been great for midges, if you’re a midge.
Less so if you’re human. When you cycle, they can’t catch you, but as soon as you stop for a pee, it’s a feeding frenzy (it’s only the females that suck your blood, to feed their young).
Being water infrastructure, Arklet is fenced off, so there’s no swimming or waterside picnicking.
I turn left along a straight, quiet road beautifully offset by mountains, and plummet down to Loch Lomond.
Loch 7. Lomond
The loch’s ‘bonnie banks’ are in the famous song: ‘O ye’ll tak’ the high road / And I’ll tak’ the low road / And I’ll be in Scotland afore ye…'.
Said banks are at the end of a cul-de-sac from the east. There’s no other access on this side apart from on footpaths. The hairpin descent throws me down to the Inversnaid Hotel.
A summer ferry shuttles walkers between here, at the foot of 974m-high Ben Lomond, and the western side, with its main road, rail line and villages.
There’s a bar, restaurant, rooms and so on, and special mud-proof entrances for walkers.
A chatty Finnish hiker tucks into a pouch of reindeer stew. She didn’t buy that in Aberfoyle Co-op.
I’ve been a walker here myself, even when cycling. Because you have to retrace your steps back up the road you just came down, and the only way to ascend its 25% gradient when I’ve come with a fully-laden camping-touring bike has been to push it.
I grind back up the hill and alongside Arklet, but continue east to one of the most illustrious lochs of all – the one that kickstarted the whole business of Scotland as a tourist destination, back in the early 1800s.
Loch 8. Katrine
‘Cat-trin’ was the setting of Sir Walter Scott’s 1810 Lady of the Lake.
It went the equivalent of viral, and visitors flocked to see the wild, intense landscapes for themselves.
The tourist industry took off, and all the kilts/bagpipes/haggis/whisky malarkey was established as part of Brand Scotland.
The settlement of Stronachlachar consists of a couple of houses, a super cafe (open all year) and a ferry pier.
In season, boats go to the other end of the loch, but there’s an even better way to get there while enjoying Katrine’s legendary scenery – a gently undulating tarmac road runs all along the northern shore, closed to traffic (except for a few locals in the isolated villas) but open to bikes.
It’s now sunny and warm, and I’m in a T-shirt at last, instead of a hurricane-proof jacket.
I ride slowly and joyfully along the lane, enjoying the views that so inspired Sir Walt all to myself. Not least because the unspoilt tarmac is the smoothest of the whole day.
Loch 9. Achray
At the east end of Katrine, I rejoin the road network at the ferry pier. Shortly afterwards comes Achray (‘Ach, Ray!’).
It’s another standard-issue Trossachs loch, all foresty sides and creamy country houses reflected in calm waters. Still, it’s another ticked off.
I follow gravel tracks to Achray Farm. Insouciant goats scoff trackside shrubbery.
The farm’s stall has excellent home-grown-fruit ice cream, made with milk from those very goats. The lady serving lives in Callander and chats affably about Trossachs life.
It sounds idyllic on this sunny late-summer afternoon, but may be different in dark, rainy February.
Loch 10. Drunkie
Ludicrously named but delightfully picturesque, Loch Drunkie is tucked away amid wooded hills.
The fireroads here form part of the Three Lochs Forest Drive, so I come across a few cars. Ha! Their drivers pay £3 and only see three lochs.
I’m doing a dozen, for free. I follow a short path down to a viewpoint for a lochside photo.
With compositional skill, I manage to exclude the half-dozen wild-camping tents and piles of rubbish left by partying yobs from the cities.
Otherwise, it’s a peaceful, lovely loch. The gravel tracks rise and fall gently through the trees, with different views round every corner. It’s wonderful.
Loch 11. Venachar
Venachar is a longish, splendid loch with the customary surrounding of colourful hills. It’s serene and gorgeous on this calm, sunny evening.
Less so is NCN7, the cycle route along the southern shore. I thought a single-digit National Cycle Network route might be, you know, cyclable.
But, not being on a fat-tyred mountain bike, a two-mile stretch is so rough I have to push. Bah.
Next time, I’ll go instead along the forest road east of Drunkie, between the Forest Drive and Invertrossachs (where tarmac resumes). It can’t be worse… can it?
Loch 12. Lubnaig
I’m virtually back at Callander, but this is an easy detour for one final loch. NCN7 almost rescues its reputation with a pretty good tarmac rail trail four miles up the western shore of Lubnaig, a long loch said to be good for canoeing and SUPing because it’s relatively sheltered from winds.
Eventually, the tarmac becomes OK-ish gravel.
NCN7 continues from here to Killin, 17 picturesque miles of gradual uphill beyond, but once I’ve got as far as a picnic table with a view for a final snack – and a quick dip, much to the midges’ delight – it’s time to turn back for Callander, on gently downhill tarmac all the way.
Callander has pubs. The pubs have beer and food. I like Callander.
It’s been a satisfying trip, ticking off a dozen of Scotland’s most scenic lochs in one full, varied day ride. This is a part of the world that gets under your skin and I’m itching to come back.
Which reminds me – I’ll bring more midge repellent next time.
Local knowledge
- Distance: 65mi Elevation 4528ft
- Download the full route: Ride With GPS
Getting there
The cloest railway station is Dunblane, from where it’s 10 easy miles on bike paths and quiet roads to Callander. Glasgow is around an hour away by car, Edinburgh 90 minutes or so.
Where to stay
You could try the Callander Hostel, or various pubs and B&Bs, such as the bike-friendly Dalgair House Hotel.
Where to eat
The Pier Cafe in Stronachlachar (FK8 3TY) on the banks of Loch Katrine is a candidate for Scotland’s best-view snackery.
Bike shops
Wheels Cycling Centre in Callander offers mountain bikes and touring and hybrid bikes (plus electric versions) from as little as four hours (£20) to two weeks (£150). They also offer servicing for your own bike.
Events
The Grand Old Dukes ride (14-15 June) is a new creation from the makers of the dearly departed Dukes Weekender gravel event and makes use of the Trossachs’ brilliant gravel network.
