The SkiBike Shop

Something very unexpected happened, whilst queuing for my fast run, a guy came running over to me with great excitement. I braced myself for a barrage of questions but it turned out he too was a fellow skibiker. Joan had converted a GT hard tail mountain bike with the K-Trax system. If you haven't come across these before follow the link; the rear wheel is replaced with a tank track and the front by a short ski. This enables you to pedal on the flat or even uphill, if you have the energy. It was only his second day skibiking and his first time using a chairlift. He seemed to get the hang of it far too quickly he set off on the blue run to practice his technique.

Having become more confident, I suggested that we move higher up the mountain and later across to the Pal sectors too. By late afternoon Joan was tiring, so we split apart with an agreement to meet later. I went over every combination of run at Pal before crossing back to Arinsal.

Near the end the day I threw all caution to the wind and had my first go on the Tub del Col black run. The combination of steep, narrow and heavy wet snow got the better of me, or as a friend later commented... "YARD SALE"...(there were bits of me scattered all over the hill).

The first priority was to locate my foot skis, luckily they weren't buried or at the bottom of the hill.
Then you have to get the compacted snow of the bottom of your ski boots so that you can then try to get them clipped back in, do one foot at a time, downhill footski first.
You can then side step up or side slip down to your skibike before remounting and heading off.

I had to do this twice on the one run. I had found my limit, it was time to call it a day.

Joan had dutifully waited for my return and I convinced him that tomorrow we should investigate what possibilities Arcalis would have to offer.

I did a couple of quick warm up runs on the Port Vell to get my legs and brain started, then took the big Arinsal-Pal cable car across to the Coll de la Botella, to play on the Posellettes and Font Roja runs.


I also sampled running off piste under the chairlift and through the trees.


Font Roja is now becoming another favourite run, with some very exiting gradients and plenty of room to manoeuvre, it is surprisingly empty for such a good run. Sadly my camera ran out of juice and there is no footage of it.

I went back up to the top of the Pic del Cubil and then along the Cami Superior till it met the Coms run. It had a monster mogul field but was very slushy by this point and with just a couple of hours left to play made my way back to the Arinsal sectors. I completed a perfect day on my favourite La Pala/Tub de Col combo which had a short gully section to explore.

I ventured off-piste around the environs of the La Capa run and wouldn't stop till all the lifts were closed and the slow was totally slushy at the bottom.

I realised that unlike skiing, skibiking works well on slush and you can carves your way through the heavy stuff like a jet ski on water. You need to use your footskis as little as possible as they can get caught by the heavier mounds, throwing you off balance or worse. You need to keep up your speed, follow the fall line much closer and avoid making unnecessary turns.

I sorted my lift pass and insurance in the morning then took the gondola from El Oriols up to Camallempla and straight on to the Les Fonts chairlift for some good warm up sessions on the blue runs of Port Vell. Why is it that you get to do your first and most wobbly runs of the trip on freshly waxed, slippery skis and when the snow is at its most icy and hardest? The weather was still a little blustery and snow blown especially higher up the mountain but became sunnier throughout the day.


I moved up to the Port Negre chair and alternated between the Tub Estadi, Tub del Col and La Pala runs. I began riding much more confidently. It was getting decidedly softer lower down the hill but still pleasantly firm at the top.

I finished the last run of the day with a gentle descent down Bony Vagues and Les Fonts. It was horrendously slushy most of the way! I grabbed a couple of well earned apres ski pints and had an interesting chat with the proprietor of the Derby Irish bar.

I began the day with a simple French breakfast, croissants with strawberry jam and coffee, outstanding! Fortified by this and a fine nights sleep I hit the road South, around Tolouse the weather began to close in, the light drizzle strengthened into a downpour. Odd new smells filled my senses, which can only be described as cats' pee, surely this can't be the smell of the Pyrenees? Perhaps my walking boots have finally achieved critical mass.
The road narrowed from dual to single carriageway, cutting deeper through a gorge, where ominous black walls of rock dripped with moisture. The signs indicated that Andorra was only 25km away, but there was no sign of snow here. Had the websites lied? Should I have brought the skibikes wheels with me? Was this going to end up as a hiking trip?
A road sign announced that this was the last spot to fit snow chains, then the switchbacks and hairpin bends began. The engine laboured and the cloud level descended to meet the road, visibility fell to 20m.
I caught a glimpse of snow alongside the road, we climbed on and upward, the pace now set by lumbering camper vans. Abruptly the climb finished, there was a customs/passport check (Andorra is not in the EU) and further on in the gloom you could see the first chairlifts at Pas de la Casa, next the vapours cleared to reveal a surreal vista of snowfields and mountains amid the clouds.
After crossing the highest road in the Pyrenees it descended slowly into the Andorran river valley floor, it connected the many small towns that I recognised from my internet research. Leaving Andorra's only main road at Escaldes the road climbed upwards once again, passing through La Massana and ending at Arinsal. The hotel L'Ayma was right next to the gondola just as described, on check in I realised that French was going to be our common language, which is just as well, because my Spanish is shameful.
I sorted my kit out then went out for local orientation, first stop next door to the Pub and its welcoming staff, a quick beer to slake my thirst and found out the location of wifi hotspots, supermarket and cash points. I headed down the hill, eventually finding myself back in La Massana and picking up piste maps from the tourist office.

Andorra - source - iguide.travel/Andorra

Over the Easter break I was supposed to be helping sail a boat up the Baltic from Travemunde in Germany to Aarhus in Denmark, but as the Baltic was still partly iced over and the Captain had been unwell, plans had to be delayed till June. This left me with another handy gap in my diary and ever since my trips to Scotland I had been aching to explore some larger ski domains.
I considered at the French Alps, but the price for an independent traveller was too much, so I turned my searches west to the Pyrenees and the principality of Andorra. Eventually I settled on Vallnord which, unlike Grandvalira, (boo hiss) allows skibikes. Once again LateRooms provided details of some budget accommodation right next to the telecabine station in Arinsal.

I left home at 06:00 to check in at 07:30 for a 08:30 sailing from Dover to Calais. I was lucky that I had booked to go via P&O as SeaFrance were on strike on that day.
I had a perfect crossing in bright sun and sea as smooth as a mill pond. On the French side I fitted beam converters to the car's headlamps and began the long drive South.

My route took me via Paris, why does the Perepherique run so close to the centre of Paris? I had horrid bottle necks to contend with and the worst examples of French driving imaginable.

Something odd was going on with my sense of smell, the whole of France seemed super smelly, but in a nice way; the Pas de Calais smelled of Crisps and Paris of French Fries, perhaps my body was telling me to eat more.
I intended to drive till sunset and get as far south as possible, yet still get a room for the night. Just after Limoges, I spotted a building high up on a hill side with the word Hotel on the side in faded letters. A quick double back at the next interchange found me outside the empty looking Hotel de la Malyerie in Sadroc, luckily it was open and the proprietors were having dinner. I was shown to my clean, simple and quiet room. After freshening up I sat down to a delicious Omlette with Cepes (wood mushrooms), french fries and salad, all washed down with a glass of Primus blond beer.
Tired but not yet fully sleepy I took an evening stroll around the lovely rustic town, sympathetically restored; the air was filled with the pungent smell of wood smoke and damp fertile earth. I returned to the hotel by torchlight along a country lane and slept well that night.

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