I went out for what was supposed to be a nice, short, relaxing Saturday afternoon ride. I was still a wee bit worn out from the 40-mile Dungeon Hills adventure, so there would be no enormous distances, no ridiculous expedition and definitely no knackering myself out again. That was the plan anyway.

Liza and I headed into Galloway Forest Park from Loch Doon for a gentle afternoon of exploring some of the forest trails. I had a vague idea of where I wanted to end up, plenty of daylight and absolutely no need to rush. Somehow this rapidly descended into a land of complete confusion where I repeatedly had no idea whether I was going the right way, the wrong way or had somehow gone through a space-time portal and arrived back where I’d started. Still, sometimes getting completely confused is exactly how you find somewhere you weren’t expecting.

A Nice Easy Saturday Ride

Loch Doon was absolutely heaving. Every parking space seemed to be occupied and I actually had to wait for one, which is almost unheard of out here. Apparently coming to one of the most beautiful parts of Scotland on a sunny Saturday afternoon and expecting peace and solitude wasn’t my finest bit of planning.

Once I got away from everyone though, it was lovely. The sun was out, the hills looked magnificent and I wasn’t in a rush. I was only going for a short ride after all, so I pointed Liza roughly in the direction I wanted to go and decided to see where we ended up.

I was also still trying to work out the mysterious goose noise I’d been hearing throughout my previous video. After spending most of that adventure wondering where all the geese were, I’d finally discovered the culprit. Liza. The wind was whistling through one of the brake rotors and occasionally it was gently rubbing against the pads. There had never been any geese.

Let’s See Where This Goes

It didn’t take long before I spotted a trail I hadn’t explored before. Wonder where that goes? Obviously I had to have a look.

The trail was loose and rather bumpy, but the views quickly made it worthwhile. Craiglee appeared across the landscape along with the Wee Hill of Craigmulloch and another hill I’d become rather more familiar with than I’d intended about a year and a half earlier.

That was the one I’d got stuck on after falling down a hole, hurting my leg, running out of daylight and having problems with my OS Maps app. Scottish Mountain Rescue eventually helped me off it, something I was incredibly grateful for and also incredibly embarrassed about.

They’re brilliant guys and girls, mostly volunteers, and if you’re ever able to support Scottish Mountain Rescue, please do. They do an amazing job. Looking at the hill from where I was now, it didn’t seem particularly dramatic. Get closer, though, and suddenly you realise it’s quite a substantial lump of landscape. Funny how mountains do that.

Another Dead End

The trail continued until eventually it didn’t. There was technically more trail ahead, but no sensible way through, so after all that bouncing around I had reached my first dead end of the afternoon. It wasn’t wasted time though. I’d seen some magnificent rocks, discovered another part of the forest and found a huge rocky outcrop that would have made a rather nice garden feature if I’d been able to get it home.

Unfortunately I couldn’t quite fit it on Liza. No time is ever really wasted when you’re exploring. The whole point is to go and have a look. Sometimes you find an amazing route and sometimes you discover that the line on the map ends in a pile of trees, a bog or something else determined to stop you. So I turned around and went looking for somewhere else.

Things Start Going Wrong

By this point I had a vague destination in mind. I wanted to get towards Eglin Lane and closer to the hills, but somewhere along the way things stopped making sense. I looked at the map. I looked at the trails. I looked at the map again.

Maybe I’d gone the wrong way. Or perhaps I’d been going the right way before turning around because I thought it was the wrong way.

Such an idiot sometimes. There was a nice little artificial pond nearby though, complete with dragonflies, so at least getting confused had found me something else to look at.

I could also see people wandering around on one of the hills with a wee dug, which proved that other human beings existed somewhere nearby even if I had absolutely no idea where I was meant to be.

Professional Exploration

Eventually I stopped and studied the map properly. This was professional exploration by an idiot. It appeared that I might actually have been in the right place in the first place, so naturally I went back along a trail I’d already ridden to investigate it again.

You would not want me leading your expedition. Nobody would ever return because we’d all get lost. Part of the confusion was that so many trees had disappeared. The landscape didn’t look quite like I expected it to, and features that had previously been hidden were suddenly visible. The Wolf Slock in particular looked completely different, with its cliffs now plainly visible through the missing tree line.

It was impressive. And, as usual, seeing hills immediately made me want to get closer to them. My mission is to get closer to hills.

Where Am I Even Meant To Be?

The trail became increasingly bumpy and by this point my voice was starting to sound like a sheep as Liza bounced over everything.

I briefly considered singing Heaven Is a Place on Earth because it probably would have sounded quite realistic. Then something finally started making sense.

There appeared to be an old track heading across the ground in roughly the direction I’d been trying to reach. It was heavily overgrown, boggy and difficult to see, but once I looked carefully I could make out where the two old wheel tracks had once been.

The ground was also bouncing underneath my feet. Literally. Whoo. Whoo. Probably not a good sign. Still, you can only fuck it up once. Or twice. Or every day if you’re like me.

I Think I’ve Found It… Again

After a wee rest and a drink, I decided to attempt the old track with Liza. This was either going to end well or become a complete disaster.

The grass was long enough to get caught in everything, the ground was soft and there were holes and rocks hidden underneath it, so progress was rather careful. Eventually it became obvious that riding any further wasn’t particularly sensible.

Somewhere ahead was supposed to be a little bridge across the burn. I couldn’t see it. So I hid Liza amongst the vegetation and continued on foot. Almost immediately the terrain became easier and I started gaining enough height to see what was around me. Then I looked down. There it was. The bridge. I’d finally found the route I’d been looking for.

Coffee Mound

More importantly, I’d also found the view I’d been looking for. From the little mound above Eglin Lane, the landscape suddenly opened up. The rocky faces and ridges I’d ridden past on the previous adventure were now visible properly and the scale of everything became much easier to appreciate.

From a distance these hills can look fairly gentle. Get closer and suddenly you’re looking at huge cliffs, rocky outcrops and terrain that feels almost Alpine. In winter I imagine some of it would be absolutely treacherous.

It was unbelievably beautiful. I could see the route towards Hooden’s Hill and the surrounding range, and for the first time I could properly understand how I might get onto it on another adventure. Rather than taking the enormous route around, it looked possible to cycle in, cross the little bridge and approach the ridge from this side. Suddenly all the wandering around in circles started to make sense.

I found a rock, put the drone up for a while and decided this was an excellent place for coffee.

In Your Own Time, Jetboil

Out came the important equipment. Drone. Water. Mug. Gluten-free chocolate chip biscuits. Salted caramel latte, because apparently I’m very posh. And the Jetboil. In its own time, naturally. At least it was considerably quicker than on some previous adventures, although opening the coffee sachet resulted in it pouring out like sand through an egg timer. I though I had also forgotten the spoon. Items forgotten had therefore officially increased from none to one.

Still, the little coffee mound overlooking the hills wasn’t a bad place to sit and do absolutely nothing for a while. There was even a tiny baby Christmas tree nearby which, perhaps in another hundred years, might end up in somebody’s living room.

Better Be Worth It

The problem was that I still wanted to get closer. I’d already decided I didn’t really have the energy or daylight to attempt the hills properly that day, but I could see the little bridge below me and wondered whether I could at least walk down to it. So after finishing my coffee and checking I’d left no trace, I headed downhill.

The path existed, although calling it a path was occasionally being rather generous. In places I was mostly guessing where it went through the vegetation while trying not to disappear down one of the holes hidden underneath. Eventually I reached the clearer section. Then I turned around.

Oh… Now I See Why

Oh yeah. Now I could see why I’d come down here. Eglin Lane stretched through the glen beneath the surrounding hills and ahead was the enormous north face of Merrick with its massive cliff and corrie. It was one of those places where the camera probably doesn’t communicate the scale particularly well. Standing there, it was extraordinary. I hadn’t been expecting it.

From there I could also see exactly how the route worked. Cross the bridge, follow the old path through the glen and then approach the ridge from below. What had spent much of the afternoon being a confusing mess of trails, missing trees and questionable navigation suddenly fell into place. Sometimes that’s what exploring is.

You spend hours wondering where on earth you’re meant to be, go down several wrong tracks, double back on yourself and question whether you have a functioning brain. Then eventually you stand somewhere and think, Ah. Now I understand.

And the view was absolutely worth it.

Time To Head Back

There wasn’t enough daylight left to continue further, and I didn’t have the energy for it anyway. One day, in the height of summer when there are plenty of daylight hours, I’d like to come back and walk properly through the glen towards that magnificent cliff and corrie on Merrick. For today though, it was time to head back. I crossed the wee bridge, climbed back up the hill, retrieved my helmet and eventually returned to Liza. By then I was fairly worn out.

Getting through the long grass and fallen trees had taken considerably more effort than the distance suggested. That’s something I’ve noticed before. Sometimes smaller hills and rough boggy ground are harder work than much bigger mountains simply because every step becomes an effort. Eventually I reached Liza, got everything sorted and prepared for the easy ride back.

Or tried to. I couldn’t get my helmet off. I’d managed to put the strap on the wrong way around.

What a lemon.

Déjà Vu

Back on the bike, I finally started heading towards the car. Then I passed somewhere that looked strangely familiar. And another junction that looked familiar. And a bridge that looked familiar. Déjà vu.

I was, apparently, riding past bits of forest I’d already visited several times that afternoon. At least most of the journey was downhill by this point because I’d completely run out of energy. So I stopped trying particularly hard and mostly allowed Liza to roll towards Loch Doon.

I’d gone out for a nice easy Saturday afternoon cycle and somehow turned nine miles of riding into more than four hours outside.

Professional exploration.

One Last Look

Before reaching the car, I stopped one last time and looked back towards where I’d been. The sun was out, the burn was flowing over the rocks and the mountains were sitting beyond the forest. It was one of those views where I couldn’t help stopping even though I was tired and wanted a cup of tea.

I could have attempted some pretentious Instagram commentary about reconnecting with nature and discovering myself amongst the mountains. Instead I’ll put it in my language. Aye, look at that. It’s absolutely amazing, isn’t it? That’ll do.

Eventually the midgies started arriving, which was nature’s way of telling me to get moving. Back at Loch Doon every parking space was still occupied and Liza looked like she’d been dragged through half the vegetation in Galloway. Which, to be fair, she probably had.

The nice short relaxing ride had descended into complete farce, I’d repeatedly lost track of where I was meant to be, ridden the same trails several times and exhausted myself considerably more than intended.

But eventually I found Eglin Lane, worked out the route towards the hills and discovered a view I hadn’t expected. Sometimes you need to get completely lost before everything suddenly falls into place. And I’d still rather be doing this than sitting in front of the television. 💞

Adventure Details

Date filmed: 22 August 2026
Published: 3 September 2026
Location: Galloway Forest Park
Bike: Carrera Fury “Liza”
Route: Here, there, everywhere except where I were meant to be
Total time out: 4 hours 15 minutes
Ride + hike time: 3 hours 15 minutes
Ride distance: 9 miles
Walking distance: 0.85 miles
Ascent: 574 ft
Descent: 572 ft
Highest point: 955 ft
Lowest point: 732 ft
Difficulty: Started easy, descended into farce
Total cost: 1 coffee and 1 pack of GF biscuits
Items forgotten: Sense of direction perhaps, GPS wouldnae have worked here

Main camera: DJI Osmo Action 4, 4K 25fps, Wide Angle, RockSteady
Drone: DJI Neo 2
Handheld camera: DJI Pocket 3
Edited in: Adobe Premiere Pro 2024
Music: Clouds ©2026 John XploraLora