Scott Frontier 300 - Tales from the Trail

Tales From The Trail ISSUE #1

We live on an island everyone should cross it at least once

INTRODUCTION Welcome to the first Frontier 300 ‘Tales from the Trail’, our online communication which aims to inspire by bringing you all the stories from the event.

We often hear talk of starts and finishes, of completion times or of how many times it has been ridden. All perfectly amazing in their own right. As we say “getting to the start line can often be the biggest challenge.”

But the Frontier 300 is more than that, we feel that there are more stories to tell - the Frontier 300 is about the journey itself bookended by a start and finish. It is what happens between that matters the most, that is where the really inspirational stories lie.

Whatever your ability, what ever the ride time, everyone on an event of this distance will have experienced all the highs and lows, the good and the not so good. So many feelings condensed into a snap shot in time.

These tales define the event and to some degree us as riders.

Everyone has something to tell and as organisers it is this that moves and inspires us to organise these events.

Our Frontier 300 ‘Tales from the Trail’ aims to capture your inspiring rider stories in the hope that it will motivate others - not just to ride this event but to just get out there and ride!

TALES OF A FIRST TIMER VICKI

The Frontier 300 is a coast-to-coast 300km all-road/gravel ride that takes place over either two days or as a single day epic.

It starts at the beautiful Rockcliffe Bay to the Southwest of Dumfries in Scotland, and finishes at the impressive Druridge Bay in Northumberland on the East coast of England.

My partner and I had been thinking about doing a big endurance challenge for a while.

We both had different reasons for this, but wanted to do something together - something on bikes, and something that both of us would find challenging, with a chance of the unknown thrown in to really test us to see if we could finish together and enjoy the adventure.

The Frontier 300 seemed to tick all of the boxes. Plus, it is run by the awesome Bryan and Neil from Focal Events: the guys behind Dirty Reiver, old hands at endurance, orienteering, and all things Big and Epic. We knew this would be well organised, with the riders’ experience in mind, and a genuine passion for seeing people challenge themselves and cross the finish line.

We were not wrong!

My biggest challenges ahead of the event itself boiled down to three things.

First, the ride itself: I had never ridden that distance before in a single day and had no idea how I would get on when things got hard, or at what point they would get hard. In fact the farthest I had ridden in a day was 185km - little over half of the distance of the Frontier 300.

Second, the logistics of the A-to-B nature of the event: camping, drop bags, finish kit, kit for all weathers, food, water, cars, vans, etc., and there was a fair bit of admin involved which I found daunting at first.

Finally, nutrition and hydration: I am fortunate that my partner, and lots of friends, are experienced in endurance events, either on foot, bikes or adventure racing, and I have heard many tales about the importance of eating and drinking enough and the difficulties that come with that over a long period of time. Plus how almost every DNF they’d experienced was either down to injury or, more likely and more common, lack of proper fuel.

So, I had some homework to do.

THIS CALLS FOR A NEW BIKE …

I had never ridden that far before in a single day

We had signed up about 7 months ahead of the event, which takes place in early June, so I had plenty of time to get my head around all of these things.

I also needed a gravel bike! The wonderful irony of this being that when we entered I didn’t own one and knew that my lovely full suspension mountain bike wasn’t going to be suitable with about 50% of the distance on roads. The story of my gravel bike and build is captured here and I appreciate how fortunate I am to have such a lovely bike for new adventures.

Getting to build it myself in preparation for this journey was the icing on the cake.

TRAINING In the lead up to the event I worked with a nutrition coach to learn how to fuel, and I practiced different strategies.

I tied this in with consistent rides - longer rides, multi-day long rides, short, sharp efforts, and strength training. This gave me an idea of the amount, type and frequency of food I would need to eat to keep going, what to turn to when I reached the inevitable ‘I can’t chew or eat anymore’ moments and how to keep my tummy happy.

This was invaluable as I certainly reached this point on the ride, recognised it, and had a strategy to overcome the tummy ache and the feeling of not wanting to chew or swallow. Sounds dramatic if you’ve not experienced it. But oddly enough I realised I needed that food - and the urge to finish the ride was stronger than the physical discomfort. More on that later.

ON THE COURSE The logistical side of things were greatly helped by the event organisers. There were multiple options of camping and accommodation at the start, plus the option of bike transfers, and a coach to the start from the finish campsite which made this as straightforward as it could be.

The rest was down to us packing four bags each for the different sections. We had the start/camping bag, a ride bag, a drop bag and a finish bag. All with various necessities and essential for each of those parts of the adventure.

There were four check points along the way all offering water, food and manned with lovely volunteers.

Check point 3 at 180km was the main one with our drop bag and hot food. The joy of having fresh kit to change into, a proper toilet and a hot cup of soup was fantastic. Plus I found the coleslaw sarnies an absolute hit, thank you!

THE ROUTE As it perhaps should be, the absolute highlight of the event was the route itself.

The 300kms across the country had been well thought out to offer some spectacular gravel, road just when you needed it, climbing to challenge you but not break you, and a hike-a-bike section that was a whole highlight in itself.

Up to the 180km mark I had been feeling fab, pace was sensible, body and mind were good, I had enjoyed the challenge of the hike-a-bike and overcome the initial anxiety of just starting out and getting to the first check point.

But when was it going to really push and challenge me? That’s what I had signed up for!

Well, the final 120km delivered just that for me.

The fact that we were enjoying it, taking in the views, chatting to the other competitors and appreciating the adventure was a win in itself.

Everyone will have had a different point when they found things challenging and for me it was at about 190km.

The reality of being in the saddle for so long, the persistent undulating climbs which I struggled to keep momentum over, the absolute lack of ability to eat and realising it was time for gels or bonk, each twist, turn and incline in the route becoming frustrating.

This was the challenge I was waiting for, and it sucked for a little bit.

GETTING TO THE FINISH However after about an hour of this (or maybe two, ask my partner!) a funny thing happened.

Everything became a lot simpler. If I wanted to finish then all I had to do was pedal to the end.

As the bike moved forward the end got closer.

Our goal had been to finish by sunset, and that is exactly what we did. Happy, tired, smiling, and in one piece, around 9pm we crossed the line together. BOOM! What a feeling!

I started to assess what was really the problem and did that problem stop me pedalling?

“We live on an island. Everyone should cross it at least once in a lifetime!”

Tummy ache, grim but it didn’t stop me pedalling.

Could I eat? Something could go in, and it did.

Great, keep pedalling.

I highly recommend it.

WHAT I’VE LEARNED Did my legs actually hurt? No, pedal a bit faster and harder, get up the hills, it’s closer to the finish.

The route was frustrating, was it though? No, I’d just been out a while, but the scenery was still amazing. At one point we could even spot the sea in the distance.

Keeping pedalling, the kilometres kept ticking away.

My tummy stopped hurting, or I found a way to ignore it. I found the momentum and rhythm on the bike that I’d lost, and I became pretty content with just pedalling knowing that we would cross that finish line eventually.

As the bike moved forward the end got closer

The biggest take away for me from entering an endurance event such as this was how everything boiled down to the absolute basics to get to the end.

Do whatever you can to just keep pedalling.

Be open minded enough to work through the discomfort - you know it’s going to come otherwise you wouldn’t have chosen to ride 300km in a day.

The view on the other side and the adventure along the way is well worth it.

Everyone’s journey will be different, but if this can inspire you just a little bit to push beyond what you think you can achieve, then go for it!

There is literally nothing to lose, this event is a great place to test that out.

I’m looking forward to taking this experience into my next few adventures and seeing what lies over the next hill...

ONLY BEEN CYCLING SIX MONTHS …

WORDS BY A VERY MODEST AND ANONYMOUS FIRST TIME RIDER

I’m the person who rode her first gravel event on a road bike at the Frontier 300……! Thanks once again for an amazing experience.

You asked if I would write something short, explaining a bit about my experience doing the Frontier 300; I think what you were really asking was “seriously though… what are you doing here?”

I started cycling about 6 months ago, after fracturing both legs, when I needed to find a lowimpact way to move my body whilst I was in rehab!

In the end I bought a bike, and in January 2024 I started my ‘cycling project’.

In May I started to tentatively ride around my local nature reserve (on road tyres). I got some confused looks from local kids and had to carry my bike through some muddy sections, but I didn’t die, so I considered this proof that my road bike could potentially masquerade as a gravel bike.

This might be the type of human-powered adventure that I was craving I put together a Spotify playlist of girlpower anthems and started googling my questions…

In the last few months I’ve googled literally everything: “how do you use gears?”, “do I need bib shorts?”, “how to unclip from pedals?”, “how to ride uphill?”, “how to ride downhill?”, “how to attach bottle cages?” etc. etc.

In February I decided to enter ‘something scary’ to keep myself motivated. By this point I had discovered the term ‘gravel cycling’ and thought this might be the type of human-powered adventure that I was craving.

I googled “what is a gravel bike?” and “how much do gravel bikes cost?” and decided that buying a new bike wasn’t an option.. but I entered the Frontier 300 anyway.

Buoyed up by this, I booked my bike into the local shop to get more suitable tyres – and realised that the only appointment they had was the Wednesday before the Frontier 300 started. … And then suddenly I was at the event.

There is obviously a sliding scale between ‘enthusiastic’ and ‘foolhardy’, and I’m towards the ‘foolhardy’ end of this scale

Yes, I researched everything that I could, and I’ve worked really, really hard on my fitness and bike-handling this year, but the Frontier 300 was still a weekend full of ‘firsts’ for me.

In the end I had an amazing experience: overall, the course felt manageable to me (I just walked a handful of technical bits), and the route was stunning!

Everyone made me feel very welcome and I learned so much from the other riders.

Taking part made me feel very accomplished, and was a big jump forwards in terms of what I consider myself capable of as a new cyclist.

Thank you so much. I will be back!

THE VISION BEHIND THE

FRONTIER 300 Bryan Singleton

THE FIRST FRONTIER We often get comments about how good the route is followed by the inevitable ‘How did it come about?’ The story of the first ever Frontier 300 may help answer some of those questions.

The original idea came after several months pondering over OS maps and wondering how to challenge those riders who were completing the Dirty Reiver in impressive sub 8hr times. The natural progression was to seek a longer distance, but to still have it achievable in a single day.

Gravel bikes were also firmly establishing themselves as great ways to journey over mixed terrain and - living on an island - it only seemed fitting that a Gravel coast-tocoast might tick the box.

The map perusals focused on Southern Scotland and the English Borders where the sheer number of large forests and forest trails looked promising. Eventually a tentative ‘line’ came together linking forests, quiet cycleway and small villages along the way - the first Frontier 300 was born!

FINALISING THE ROUTE On a pre-covid, post Dirty Reiver, spring day a weather window opened with little wind and no rain. With a few days off, I caught the train from Carlisle to Morpeth and proceeded up the coast along the cycle routes to Druridge Bay - the intended start.

Arriving early evening on a loaded bike, just as the beach was beginning to clear of visitors, was somewhat symbolic of the solo journey ahead. It was hard to wrench myself away from the miles of sand.

Eventually, heading into a darkening western sky with a feeling of adventure, and a warm Calzone pizza on the bars, I began to take the first pedal strokes towards linking together the final route.

Fresh legs helped the first hours pass by as I meandered through quiet villages towards Rothbury. Here, the climbing started in earnest and the looming dark shapes of Simonside crags indicated that I was well on the way. With darkness now upon me the trails rushed by and landmarks came and went in my lights its amazing how small your world becomes when night riding.

A swift descent soon put this behind me and the mist started to lift as the lanes led towards Bellingham and an early morning resupply of water and snacks. I was tempted by the smells of the local coffee shop but opted to continue as I had arranged to meet a friend in Kielder, still a few hours aways through Wark Forest.

I continued to make good time after the long climb out of Bellingham. Wark Forest

is one of my favourite sections of the route, the trails are smooth and the hills are steady allowing for good progress. It also passes through familiar trails which we had used in the Dirty Reiver a few weeks before.

EAT, DRINK, SLEEP Water was now an issue: we had experienced a very dry spring, and most streams were dry or the water was too stagnant to risk. I rationed the last bottle as I searched for a place to biy along the side of the trail, and finally found a nice flat opening in the trees off the trail.

The following morning was grey, misty and atmospheric. The damp hung amongst the trees and sound seemed to carry in the eerie light. I had no sense of scale as I continued the journey west through Harwood and eventually onto the road. Winter’s Gibbet reared out of the gloom, almost too suddenly! For those unfamiliar with this landmark it is a hangman’s noose hung high on the moors to mark the scene of one of the last hangings in Northumberland - not the place to be early in the morning.

The following morning was grey, misty and atmospheric. The damp hung amongst the trees and sound seemed to carry in the eerie light

The pace slowed dramatically and I reminded myself of previous long trips and the temptation to start worrying when the average speed drops The final climb over the ridge and into Kielder was a wake-up call as it seemed to drag on for ages. The pace slowed dramatically and I reminded myself of previous long trips and the temptation to start worrying when the average speed drops. This was soon behind me as, summit reached, the long descent to my rendezvous flew past and I arrived looking forward to a hot drink and a catch up.

Disaster! The coffee shop was closed and it was going to be a long detour to the next one, not something I wanted to do at this stage in the day.

Disappointed, I dug some snacks out of my bag and continued to push on around Kielder Water and up towards the Border Crossing.

One of the really cool things about the route is that it crosses the English/Scottish Border high on the moors above Newcastleton. It is a significant point in the ride.

UPS AND DOWNS The climb that followed is one of the hardest of the whole route, climbing to Dun Moss at just under 550m.

There was nothing I could do but be patient as the speed dropped again. I kept spinning away and tried to take in the views as I gained altitude. The surface was good but the gradient was also consistent, so it felt at times as if I was making a little progress. A hopeful buzzard circled overhead and made me wonder if I look bad enough to be prey from his bird’s eye view.

The gradient finally eased along a terrace which offered me amazing views east, before I was on the final push to the gate at the track summit. I took a moment to stop and gaze out back on one of the last views of the east coast.

From now on all my focus would be on the west coast of Scotland and the finish at Rockcliffe.

The next section flew by down a moorland trail and onto the single track to the head of Garrogill. The late evening light cast a glow on the moors behind and I was keen to get down the trail before it went completely.

An on/off descent followed, slowing progress a little, and it was a relief to finally reach the valley floor. However, this section has not done with me yet as a tricky little climb followed from this

‘hidden valley’ had to be negotiated.

Though only a short section it seemed to take ages and the pressure was on over the top as I chased the last of the light.

What then followed was one of the most exhilarating descents in the half light, requiring all of my concentration. I wanted to complete this section before needing lights as I knew this would slow me down and I also wanted to grab a tea stop in Moffat!

After a welcome garage stop for some savoury and sweet snacks, the delight of a coffee, and a fill of water, I began grinding up the road towards Ae Forest.

This was one of the lowest points on the whole route: my legs were heavy, my body was saying stop and I had likely eaten a bit too much! All this added up to some hard yards and the need to have a good talking to myself!

Small stones became huge rocks, each undulation felt like a mountain and I was now getting slower on the descents in the poor light.

An age later I reach the top and took a moment. All I could hear is the whoosh of the wind turbines and a slight breeze in the trees. I decided to take 10mins off the bike to walk about and stretch. Its amazing what a few minutes break can do and I was soon feeling more optimistic.

Small stones became huge rocks, each undulation felt like a mountain and I was now getting slower on the descents in the poor light The long fast descent certainly helped the mood. Now that it was fully dark the lights punched through to give the definition I needed to keep pushing.

The descent continued from Ae down towards Dumfries and a late evening spin around the cycle route to the north of the town. With Mabie Forest ahead, one of my favourite places, I decided to look for a place to stop so that I could enjoy the trails the next day in the light.

A super early start was rewarded with an array of wildlife. A badger crossed the trail ahead and then I startled two deer along the loch shore.

I was obviously not the only one making the most of the quiet morning.

Mabie soon gave way to Dalbeattie and the final section of forest above Rockcliffe.

A fast singletrack descent lead right onto the road by the beach.

I left the east coast a few days ago and I am now looking out at the advancing tide on the west coast. In between there has been so much variety of riding, so many different views and so many unique sections of forest - it has been quite some journey with its inevitable ups and downs.

So that is how it all started. The rest as they say…!

The first two planned editions were cancelled due to lockdowns and the impact of Covid on outdoor events for some time after.

But as with a fine wine, the event has matured with age.

STRANGER IN THE NIGHT A Rawvelo Tale If you think only riders have fun read on. This tale was relayed to us at the finish by the guys at Feed 2 - Rawvelo. It seems they had quite an experience at Eskdalemuir!

After a busy day manning the feed station, I wasn’t particularly looking forward to my sleeping arrangements - in a corridor outside the toilets of the Eskdalemuir Ex-Servicemen’s Hall on my camping setup.

Several years on the road had convinced me I was more a glamper than a camper, but this was definitely more the latter. I managed to manoeuvre my way into my mummy bag and had just zipped up when there was an unsuspecting knock on the outer door.

The outside lights illuminated what appeared to be a giant silhouette through the frosted glass door. Slightly startled as it was close to midnight in possibly the most sparsely populated area of Britain, I weighed up my options. Ignore the knocks and hope they go away - which was unlikely as they probably deduced that the lights being on and the vehicle outside meant obvious signs of life. Or confront them boldly, CO2 extinguisher in hand as my weapon of choice.

I unlocked the door and soon realised my estimations were accurate. There was a 6’6” bearded giant on my doorstep. (I probably needed two fire extinguishers for this one and quickly realised that my 80’s army training was just not going to help me out here.) I was slightly surprised by his north east accent as we were in Scotland.

West Scotland at that. I was now even more suspicious. County lines crime and all that.

“Do you know how to fix bikes?” came the question.

At this point I couldn’t see a bike which didn’t help ease my nerves any. My somewhat quivering reply of “maybe”, at a pitch not even I recognised, didn’t help assert my manliness so I was definitely losing the psychological battle.

My voice recovered and I said, “Where is the bike?”

He pointed into the dark and proceeded into the carpark, gesturing for me to follow.

Now I was on full alert. Was this the clever ploy to get me out of the safety of the building so I was more vulnerable? Were his accomplices lying in wait? Extinguisher in hand I followed, expecting to be set upon by several assailants lined up in the shadows.

To my absolute relief, he pointed to a mountain bike lying on its side in the middle of the carpark.

A JOURNEY TO REMEMBER

“I’ve been pushing it for 3 miles,” he said. “It’s f*£#+!d.”

Hallelujah! There was actually a bike.

With a wave of relief I picked it up, rotated the cranks and confirmed that there was indeed a problem with the rear mech. He said he was a village local trying to get back home after the pub had shut, which I found slightly odd as I’d been in the direction from where he’d come & hadn’t experienced any signs of human habitation, let alone a pub. Oh well. He gratefully accepted my offer of a lift home.

With the bike in the van, and me barefoot and in my shorts on a nippy Scottish evening, we made our way on the 3 mile journey to Eskdalemuir village.

Mile 1 was him confirming that I was indeed correct in recognising his ‘boro accent and recounting how his family had moved to Eskdalemuir several years before to start farming. Clearly he had overindulged on full fat milk in his youth as he was a very big chap who barely fitted in the cab.

Mile 2 got slightly weird as he questioned my knowledge of the fertility of 40 year old women. Transpires he has a “much older” girlfriend and now wants to have kids and settle down. I acted pretty dumb on this one and convinced him that as a childless 54 year old man, I probably wasn’t the best person to ask. I was also now wishing the miles by and never realised a 3 mile drive could last this long.

Mile 3 was the most interesting.

He then brought up the complicated relationship that he had with his father.

Turns out that a week prior to our meeting, Eskdalemuir played host to a once in a lifetime spectacle, all instigated by his Dad. A disagreement with his mother had escalated into an armed standoff between his Dad and a Scottish SWAT team and included circling helicopters, snipers and several armed response officers.

Extinguisher in hand I followed, expecting to be set upon by several assailants……

SAFE RETURN Thankfully this ended well and his father was taken into custody without anyone being harmed. His main concern was that as his Dad was facing a lengthy jail term, it meant he would have to run the farm and he hated farming. There was definitely a tone of annoyance in his voice in a slightly psychopathic way.

Here I was expecting sympathy for his family’s plight without his Dad. I realised I was still pretty vulnerable in my shorts & no shoes and if he turned on me, the odds were stacked against me.

There was a definite sense of relief when I locked the door behind me.

I then zipped up my bag and lay down on my squeaky air mattress with the familiar, welcome smell of the latrines wafting through the air.

Home, sweet home.

It was even more reassuring that my colleague had slept through the whole ordeal & hadn’t heard a thing. Got to love Eskdalemuir with its midges, Buddhist monks on mobility scooters and strange locals.

Running away from a psychotic giant on my sensitive city feet was just not going to end well. Even if I did escape and evade, I’d soon be overcome by exposure in my current kit.

My anxiety wasn’t helped by our excursion down a side track to the supposed farm. Luckily we reached the gates of his house. I hastily said my goodbyes, unloaded the bike in record time and raced back to the safety and solitude of Feed 2.

There was a definite sense of relief when I locked the door behind me

AND FINALLY…..

If you have enjoyed the read and completed the event yourself please let us know. We are always looking for inspiring stories to include in the next edition. contact@focal.events

FOR MORE INFO website: www.frontier300.cc

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