The SkiBike Shop

Fellow RetroBike forum member David "The Ken" Keningdale, has started to build himself a DIY skibike for the winter. With stereotypical Scottish frugality he is determined to see the project through with the minimum of financial outlay.

Ghetto Skibike Scottish Style

Utilising scrap and salvaged parts, he is currently making ski mounts from skateboard trucks, a technique that has worked before. I noted that he is using a Marin Shoreline Trail for the frame, very similar to my Marin East Peak it should be a sturdy, yet light basis for a skibike.
He has already cut down a pair of skis, this always looks awful, but the technique works surprisingly well, although you do tend to skid out a lot, drifting a skibike is all part of the fun when you first start.

A week ago I found myself suprised to find out that I was the recipient of The Tony Marsh Trophy for 2011. It is a rather splendid silver object presented by the SkiBob Association of Great Britain for the "Best First Time Racer". All this was a result of my unexpected involvement in the FISB World Cup as featured on the SkiBiker SkiBike Blog here
Now there have been some cynics who have suggested that it is a hollow victory when you are the only first time racer in the UK in 2011; which is a moot point.

In any case it wasn't my intention to brag, more to bring to the attention of readers in Great Britain that the Trophy will be up for grabs in 2012.

You need to be a member of the SkiBob Association of Great Britain, you need to know how to skibike and you need to enter a race, it really is that simple. What other sport can you participate in recreationally and find yourself at the starting gate with the best in the World? It doesn't matter if you're a pegger, but you will have to don footskis as it is in the race regulations, you shouldn't find it that difficult to convert. You can even hire a skibob for the race from a local team.

You can find out more about racing at the British SkiBike Racing website and let's see some competition for the Trophy in 2012.

This could be you - British SkiBike Racing

Lastly, for those of you who haven't heard of Tony Marsh before here is a quick history:

Anthony Ernest "Tony" Marsh (20 July 1931 – 7 May 2009) was a British racing driver from England. His Formula One career was short and unsuccessful, but he enjoyed great success in hillclimbing, winning the British Hill Climb Championship on a record six occasions.
Tony Marsh raced against such people as Stirling Moss, Graham Hill and Jack Brabham in the late 50s and early 60s. He took part in the famous 1957 German Grand Prix (famous because it was Fangio’s last win and favourite race) and the 1960 Le Mans 24 Hour race where, with John Wagstaff, he won the Index of Energy award in a Lotus Elite
As a septuagenarian, he also remained highly active in numerous other sports – notably ocean sailing, windsurfing, hydroplane racing, shooting and ski-bobbing (or ski-biking). He was a driving force behind ski-bobbing in the UK, a European champion and world championship bronze medallist in the sport and a long-time chairman of the SkiBob Association of Great Britain. While winning the seniors' trophy at the ski-bob British nationals 13 times from 1975-91, he was often fastest on the course. He declined, however, to claim the title of overall British National Champion, preferring to encourage the younger competitors.
You can read more here

Tony Marsh

For this trip I had downsized from a Citroen Berlingo to a Ford Fiesta, being much more aerodynamic and lighter it will achieve 45 mpg on a run, even at the motorway speed limit. This shaved around £100 off the fuel bill, but you have to pack things a lot more carefully and take the skis off the skibike each day. I also saved a night's hotel expenses by driving back at the end of the afternoon and taking a couple of power naps when drowsiness became an issue.

Fuel - £134
Accommodation - £190
Lift Passes - £132
Food and Sundries £80

Total of Above - £536

The weather closed in a little and was windy and changeable with occasional bright spells. I chose South facing runs to warm up on, then headed across the road to the Cairnwell Chairlift. It was the first single seat chairlift that I had encountered and is also unusual because it is powered by diesel and not electricity. I was a little concerned that the bike's skis would foul the suspension pylons on the ascent and checked with the lift operator who seemed unworried. I took a selection of different runs down the face, most were very icy with a smattering of bare rocks, so were not much fun for going flat out, but good from a technical perspective. The red run leading up to the Bunny Run had an uphill section, so it was better to go off piste and make some long traverses riding on the foot pegs to reduce drag on flatter sections. I wanted to try the black run called the Tiger, but in such icy conditions decide not to risk it.

In the afternoon I returned to Glas Mol to play around. Having had a great day, with lots of variety, I packed the car and drove straight home, arriving back at 5 in the morning.

Panorama from near the top of the Glas Maol poma, Glenshee - source - Steve Terry

I left after a leisurely breakfast and arrived in time for an afternoon session. The weather was overcast with sunny intervals and the occasional very light shower. On my previous visit due to the inclement weather had been restricted to the Sunnyside run. Eager to explore the other valleys accessible, I crossed Meall Odhar and Coire Fionn. I had some initial problems with the Glas Maol Poma which took off with an almighty snatch, lifting me off my feet. Thanks to a friendly operator was able to make some experimental runs on footskis alone, before trying it again with the skibike at my side; this ironed things out and I could make a successful take off.
There is a long red run that follows the ridge before heading back down, but beware it has a lengthy uphill section, so ride like the wind or be prepared for some pushing. I preferred the black/red run that stayed close to the Poma. I was so chuffed to have survived the black section that I tried it again to make sure it wasn't a fluke the first time! It felt the steepest run I have so far attempted and was quite intimidating due to the many bumps in such flat light.

For some variety I moved on to the Coire Fion Poma red run where the snow was lush and soft. I played at seeing just how far you could lean the skibike into a turn, the answer, more than you can imagine in good conditions. I chatted briefly with an American visitor who turned out to be a friend of Don Koski.
The blue run off the Fion Poma had so much snow cover that you could go wherever you wanted on the mountain, there were almost no other skiers about, the feeling of emptiness and peace was bliss inducing.
I spotted a pair of skiers utilising a gully as a half pipe and followed their trail, I had no idea they could be so much fun, I repeated this run a few times, on each occasion swinging up higher and higher. Inevitably I reached the point of no return and landed in a crumpled heap at the bottom, laughing like a loon. A passing skier stopped above me and waived his finger at me as if to chastise a naughty child.

At the end of the day I retraced my route back to the car park encountering a hilarious piste with moguls the size of washing machines and had great fun tracing a route through this minefield of bumps. I returned to the car and enjoyed an entertaining drive back through twisty and bumpy B roads south to Pitlochry and the quirky Cara Beag Guest House. Went for a stroll around town, downed a couple of pints of Scottish Ale and saw David Icke in the pub having a meal. On returning to Cara Beag a fire had been lit in the lounge, glasses and a decanter of sherry had been placed on the table, what a civilised end to the day.

Looking E across Coire Fionn - source - Steve Terry

The day started Sunny at first changing into patchy cloud with a light wind. I alternated between the M2 and White Lady routes, just enjoying the moment and feeling at home.

At home on Cairngorm Mountain

As I approached the West Wall Poma for yet another uplift I was told by the lift operator to report to Ski Patrol immediately.
I would have felt the same sense of unease and apprehension if they had told me to report to Father Greystone my old headmaster. I dutifully presented myself at the hut and whilst waiting chatted with a group of Mancunian scallies who had spotted me the previous day "You looked like a complete psycho going down that run" was their opinion. Bummer, was I about to be thrown off the mountain for being a hooligan? As it turned out my Poma difficulties had been noted and they were worried I might have hurt myself, I'm not sure what they needed to check, but it was all very gentlemanly and friendly, if a little odd.

In the afternoon I made a demo run down the M2 with a couple of lads who were keen to see how a skibike worked in practice, they commented that they were "impressed by the way it handled changing from powder to hard pack/ice.." and asked a question that I had not been asked before "how much effort is required?".
Then they shot off over an icy mogul field taking the opportunity to put in a few jumps, very flash lads, that put me in my place.

M2 Piste, Cairngorm Mountain

The day brought more alpine conditions, sunny and clear. The higher runs still held a dusting of powder on hard packed snow higher up with spring snow, turning softer in the afternoon, lower down.
I returned and made repeated runs on the M2, playing a game with myself to see how far you can get the back end out and still keep moving, stretching "the envelope" and occasionally overcooking it, but managing to recover well.

Feeling  confident (possibly overconfident) I rose to the challenge of some expert skiers to demo a run down the M1.
Later I tried "The White Lady", one of the most intimidating runs so far, quite steep and bumpy, very satisfying to survive the experience unscathed. Near closing time I followed the "West Wall Coire" off piste route, which was hard work but felt very rewarding to bag some "expert" terrain.

By the end of the day I had built up a lot of speed and confidence. However the greatest and most unexpected challenges can still be from the mountain infrastructure viz. Pomas.

Aviemore - Expert terrain

I left Glenfarg around 8 and headed northwards for just over an hour, the east coast fog and gloom cleared and the weather became much sunnier. I stopped briefly in a lay-by near Crubenmore Lodge for a muesli bar breakfast and some water whilst rechecking the map to confirm my location, great I was only 20 minutes away.
 On arrival at Aviemore I quickly got my pass and made my way to the Fiaciall Poma.
I chose the Fiaciall Ridge run first to warm up and refresh my technique; for a scary moment I thought I had forgotten everything as I jiggled and scraped my way down the slope with little finesse, as it was very icy with marble sized bobbles of crud everywhere. A women came racing down the same run, skis chattering and bouncing, "oh that's horrid" she said with a big grin "conditions are much better higher up".
Following her advice I followed the "Cross Over" run to the M1 Poma and she was right, the sun had warmed the upper slopes which were covered in a dusting of powder on a hard base. I followed the "Traverse" on to the "105" then tried the "M1 Race Piste".
On the other side of the Ptarmigan restaurant I discovered the fantastic "M2 piste", a very flattering run, wide enough not to feel cramped, even gradients, lots of powder, some steeper bits to get the adrenaline flowing.
Later I had a tumble on the Poma and ended up with a sore bum and bruised ego.
At the end of a glorious day in truly alpine like conditions, I retired to my new home from home International Starters

Against all odds the unexpected cold snap continued through February and into March. Going through my work diary I spotted an empty week from 7th to 13th March. Having proved that jaunts up to Scotland were feasible providing I could keep awake for the 12 hour journey, I made hotel bookings through Late Rooms, packed the car, waxed the skis and set off around 11am to avoid London's rush hour traffic.
It was an uneventful run up spoiled by a lengthy batch of roadworks on the M6 and the A74 with enforced 50 mph speed limits; needless to say, I didn't see a single person working on any of the 100 miles or so of restrictions. Bad traffic tailbacks around Stirling wasted a further hour of my time. Luckily I go to my hotel in Glenfarg near Perth just before closing at 11pm.

A quick totting up of the costs involved in the trip.
My starting point was London and the overall distance travelled was just over 1000 miles. My vehicle was a Citroen Berlingo mini MPV with a petrol engine, fuel consumption was averaged around 35 mpg. Winter tyres and snow chains were not necessary but should be considered essential. If a couple or small group travelled together it would help to lower the overall costs. I was eating relatively meagrely by normal standards, mostly fruit, nuts, snacks and sandwiches, and had the odd pint or two in the evening.

Fuel - £230
Accommodation - £259
Lift Passes - £125
Food and Sundries £75

Total of Above - £689

In conclusion, those who live further north in the UK, say anywhere above Birmingham, should consider it a credible alternative to continental trips. Chose to go when the conditions are right, have your own kit and transport and expect to be flexible with your plans. You could perhaps consider a series of long weekends instead of the traditional one or two week package trip. Thanks to the internet you can keep an eye on weather forecasts and book accommodation at the last minute.

On my last day in Aviemore I was still to be denied access to its slopes as overnight winds and snow had filled the access road in once again; it badly needs a gondola or even a chairlift to run from the snow gates to the base station.
My plan B was to drive South to Glenshee, effectively shaving an hour off my return journey, I set off around 10am enjoyed an awe inspiring journey down the A9 to Pitlochry and arrived at Glenshee just before noon.

There were very high winds and near blizzard conditions, but there were a few gentler runs open for the daring. As I sat on the chairlift I could only see one or two chairs in front, anything more distant seemed to be erased by the blast of powdery snow. Is this what a polar version of Jacob's Ladder would look like? Or was it the 9th circle of hell from Dante's imagination.
Once again I worked on feeling the terrain through my feet and just bumbled around, not really able to build up speed. Once again the mittens came out of the backpack and also goggles too so as not to be blinded by the wind and snow. I snacked on a couple of muesli bars to try and keep my energy up, I managed a few hours before deciding to call it quits and return to the car park.

I opened the tailgate and sat on the back bumper, the wind swirling around me and filling the car with a rime of frost. I took off my boots, socks and mittens to change for dry items out of my bag. Doing this was taking forever, my hands no longer wanted to cooperate, I was feeling drowsy and light headed, I could just curl up and go to sleep where I was..........Frickin Heck hypothermia was setting in.
I forced myself to get into my dry things as fast as I could, chucked the bike in the back and strode as fast as I could to the cafeteria to get some hot chocolate inside me. At the till I could get my hand in my pockets but couldn't grasp the coinage to pay. 15 minutes later normal sensations had returned and I was able to begin the long drive home, I considered stopping nearby, but in the end got as far as Lockerbie before calling it quits.

Giant icicles at Tomintoul

In Aviemore town the day started promisingly, it was bright and clear and almost mild, but Cairngorm range is 8 miles away and the base station is half way up the hill. I drove along the access road, stopping near Coylumbridge to give a lift to a boarder waiting for the bus. He had spent a week with his buddies on the slopes and partying hard. Around the vicinity of Loch Morlich traffic ground to a halt, news filtered back that the access road had been filled in with wind blown snow overnight. The snowplough was attempting to clear a passage through the access road. 30 minutes passed, then news arrived that even if the road opened, the funicular railway was likely to be snowed under for the day.

Luckily, I had plan B up my sleeve and returned to International Starters.

The Lecht was open and around an hours drive away, I set off immediately and drove North along A95 passing the enigmatically named Boat of Garten and turning on to the A939 near Speybridge.

Around Tomintoul I paused as diggers filled an immense container with snow from the High Street. Another  longer wait was necessary by Blairnamarrow where the snow gates remained closed whilst the snow plough cleared a path.

Although visibility had been good on the road, the slight elevation at the Lecht was enough to seriously reduce visibility. The wind blew steadily at around 30mph. I decided that having come this far I would go for it regardless and use the opportunity to hone my Extra Sensory Perception skills. There were only a handful of  runs available so I took it very calmly and for the most part had to feel the change of incline through my feet! I worked at fall line skibiking with lots of short radius turns, in the brief spells of better visibility I explored what where the limits of drifting.

As the light faded around 4pm I repacked the car and headed back to Aviemore. The day had been somewhat disappointing, but I had bagged another of Scotlands ski centres and the only one open that day.

Waiting for the snow plough at Blairnamarrow

The weather started to close in and was dominated by hill fog and winds. Once again I warmed up on the familiar "Far West" run. For the first time I had to swap gloves for leather sheepskin mittens to keep my hands warm and wear a fleece beanie for my baldy head.

Mittens, essential when the wind gets up

Having established this new level of sartorial splendor I was ready to concentrate on the day's activities. My experience with the T-Bar drag lift had shaken my confidence and left me with sore arms. As an alternative to going back for more I decided to investigate how I could ascend using the Poma tow.
As a whole decade had passed since my last experience of a Poma drag and with some apprehension I chose the Lochy Button nursery slope to start with. I left the skibike next to the lift attendants cabin and went up on foot skis alone, which was actually quite fun in itself, don't lean back too far!
Having got used to the take off on the Poma, I practised holding the pole with one hand a leaving the other free to hold the handlebars of an imaginary skibike at my side, no matter what I had to remain stable with just the one hand.
Once this became comfortable I advanced with the skibike alongside me, grabbed the pole, popped it between my legs and we were off, the skibike following at my heals like a faithful and well trained dog. You do have to be careful on the initial launch that the rear of the bike doesn't swing out and knock over the lift attendant though.

Having settled in I moved up the slope to the Alpha button which gave access to the "Yockies", "Alpha" and "Macpherson's" runs, some of which gave me the opportunity to practice on moguls and bumps.
At the end of the day I returned to my car with happy thoughts of the time I had spent on Nevis Range, the friendly and helpful staff, the no-nonsense unpretentious attitude of other skiers and for the bountiful snow and relatively clement weather.
Once changed I drove on to Aviemore for the next leg of my journey. I had booked a room at International Starers through Late Rooms it is a quirky restaurant that offers simple clean and basic rooms upstairs on a b&b basis. If the makers of "Friends" wanted to make a sitcom based in a Youth Hostel, this is what it would be like, i.e. nothing like a Youth Hostel! Quite trendy by my standards, but no frills. I really liked it and was to stay again in the future.

I wanted to see how 3 days use had affected the bike and to my surprise the manager let me use an empty dinning room, I spread an old blanket on the floor, turned the skibike upside down so it would rest on its handlebars and seat, then went over it with a fine tooth comb. The skis were still perfect, the rear shock absorber was holding pressure, everything was still tight except the mount for the rear ski which took an extra half turn. I was able to leave my kit locked in place overnight for the morning.

Not feeling particularly hungry, I had a pint in the bar, then went for a stroll to check out Aviemore. It has proper alpine resort feel to it, but with the convenience of a late opening supermarket along with a selection of typical high street stores. It is slightly pricier than other places in Scotland, but still good value.

Aviemore, so quaint - source http://news.xinhuanet.com

The day was cloudy, overcast and as a result quite cold. I warmed up on the "The Fairway" and "Far West" runs and having got past the survival skibiking stage wanted to improve speed control and steering accuracy. The top section of "Far West" was quite narrow and I particularly wanted to be able to keep within its confines. I played around with un-weighting the bike to initiate turns.



By now bored with the same areas I moved across to the Goose T-bar drag lift, having read about the "Indian Rope Trick" at Skibikers on the piste I tried their technique with limited success. The front of the bike rose up in a wheelie which must have looked cool, but left my arms shaking from the effort of holding on and was sluggish to release when needed.

Sunset at Nevis Range looking North

The day dawned bright and clear and although I was still tired from the previous day's drive I was filled with nervous anticipation of what the day would bring.
After a hearty condemned man's last breakfast and a refuel stop which would include the jerry can this time, I made the short 10 minute drive to Nevis Range base. I unpacked the bike, to some curious looks, kitted up and reconfirmed with piste patrol that it was OK to ascend.
Having bought my lift pass I eagerly piled into the gondola for the ride up to the Snowgoose restaurant base station. Once there I strode off in the direction of the Quad Chair, clipped on my footskis an advanced to the chairlift. "Shall I slow it down for you mate?" asked the operator, "please" I replied, somewhat surprised that here people seemed to take customer care seriously.
Before I knew it I was hoping off at the top, with the bike in my arms trying to make it look as if I had done this all my life and not just for 2 afternoons in Innsbruck.
I planted myself on the saddle and headed downhill. The day passed quickly, with a limited choice of runs accessible by chairlift I stayed mostly on "Far West" and "The Fairway" runs, going repeatedly over the same terrain focusing on technique. I had a the odd tumble and a few icky moments with the chairlift but was pleasantly surprised to survive some icy and rocky patches where skiers and boarders fell.

"I'm so excited, that I just can't hide it, I'm about to loose control and I think that I like it!"

I set off before noon in bright sunshine and enjoyed a stress free drive round the M25, up the M40, onto the M6 across Birmingham. The roads were empty, some sections were reduced to two clear lanes with the outside lane a few inches deep in snow, certainly nothing like the story the media had been painting. I drove calmly and worked my way most of the way through a vintage cassette collection, stopping to re-fuel around Preston in Lancashire.

After a large strong cup of coffee I rejoined the M6 for the drive through the fringes of the Lake District, it was nightfall, I was in the far north of England and it was noticeably colder. The screen washer bottle froze up at this point in spite of a 30% antifreeze to water mixture. I had to stop every 50 miles or so and get out the car to squirt solution onto the screen from a bottle kept next to the hot air vent.

Just North of Glasgow, with half a tank of fuel remaining  and 80 miles left to go, I let slip the opportunity to refuel expecting that there must be an all night station somewhere before Fort William. Of course I had packed a huge ex army jerry can, but it was empty, what a townie!
Heading around Loch Lomond I passed a magical land scape of frozen waterfalls and was awed by the 9 foot high markers either side of the road to help assist the snow ploughs to find the road in a blizzard.

I arrived some time after midnight, with the car now running on vapours, found my hotel, checked in much to the surprise of the receptionist and tried to go to sleep, which was difficult, as I was still wired from the epic 500 mile journey.
I received a text message from my cousin Paul, it was -20 degrees Celsius and officially the coldest place in the country, what had I let myself in for!

Loch Lomond, Scotland - source Scottish Nomad

Having assembled my skibike and footskis over the Christmas to New Year break, early January brought even colder weather when an unusually strong northerly wind brought arctic conditions to all of the UK the timing couldn't have been better for me.

UK under snow photo courtesy of NASA

The mainstream media was totally useless for real information about travel conditions, nothing but banal human interest stories about people stranded in remote locations since the New Year and advice to keep off the roads. I phoned my friend Mat Archer in Manchester, about 200 miles further North for the truth, "Local roads iced up but the motorways are fine" he said, "oh and it's alpine sunny....in Manchester!".

I decided book a hotel in Fort William through LateRooms there and then and take the chance to drive up the following day with a view to visiting Nevis Range first. I waxed my skis and began to pack the car with all the items I thought I might need for a week away in extreme weather, such as; an army jerry can, shovel, car tools, bike tools, spare fuses, light bulbs, anti-freeze, oil, maps, blankets, sleeping bag and emergency rations.