All posts by Andy Todd

Outdoor Swim Review: The White Loch Revisited 2023 (Andrew)

I’ve covered the White Loch before – see here – and for parking see this previous review. In 2022, I mentioned that you should check which route you plan to use to drive to the White Loch. That’s still the case this year, with upgrade work taking place to the A77 at the edge of Newton Mearns. And for that I have to say “sorry” as I think the company I work for might be partially responsible for it! Sorry! It’ll be great when it’s done though!.

Water Quality

In previous years, I’ve mentioned that you might feel a slight sliminess after you swim. This is due to peat and nothing to be alarmed about even if you might feel like the Creature of the White Loch Lagoon when you come out of the water. Currently, the water is clear and I felt clean when I came out of the water.

Two years ago the loch was ‘closed’ due to a blue-green algae infestation. This can occur after a long period of warm weather. Luckily, or unluckily, depending on your view of this summer’s weather, that’s not been much of an issue this year. Check out the Southside Swimmers Facebook group for the latest updates to confirm if the loch is safe to swim.

Swim Quality

Excellent location for different lenghts of swims. If you just want a dip then a paddle round the entrance is nice and shallow. If you want to complete a full lap then it will be around 1000 – 1200 metres. You can aim for the opposite bank at 4, then a bright and obvious life buoy post at 2 then a wind turbine at 3 before coming back to the start.

I’m told that some people experience a slight pull in the water around the dam at 1 so keep away from it.

Other people

At least one person every time I’ve been. If it’s been sunny then I’ve seen 10 people here, including swimmers, paddle boarders, a canoe – and one dog swimming laps after it’s owner. It’s a busy place.

Overall

A great spot for a swim – but also a very well known one so expect to see other people particularly at weekends, evenings and if the weather is warm and sunny.

The Sound of Football: Dunfermline Athletic (Andrew)

Every fortnight we cover the best and worst football songs from every club in the UK from our book ‘The Sound Of Football: Every Club, Every Song’. You can buy it here

Dunfermline Athletic

Nickname: The Pars

Ground: East End Park

Stadium Capacity: 11,480

Song: Into The Valley

Dunfermline Athletic run out at East End Park to The Skids song ‘Into The Valley’, Which has also been used by Charlton Athletic and, for a brief time, Bradford City when it was in the Premier League.

The Skids were formed in 1977 in Dunfermline. The band’s (now sadly passed on) Stuart Adamson went on to form Big Country, while another founding member, Richard Jobson, went on to become a noted TV presenter, producer, and filmmaker. Into The Valley was their biggest hit – and what a hit it was. Fast, thrilling, exciting, no wonder Dunfermline fans adopted it – it was the exact opposite of a Saturday afternoon at East End Park.

The song does have a local connection. While Richard Jobson has said that the song was about a friend killed on a tour of duty in Northern Ireland and the recruitment of Scottish youths by the army, Dunfermline fans believe that the song refers to High Valleyfield, an area near Dunfermline known locally as ‘The Valley’.

The club is nicknamed the Pars, and one theory about why it has this name is that it was short for ‘paralytic’. The players were meant to be renowned for their drinking, so they were called the Paralytics, shortened to Pars.

In recent years, fans have needed a strong drink. Financial problems led to relegation from the top-flight, while subsequent administration and another relegation to the second division followed, after the team was docked points. In July 2013, a fan-led consortium rescued the club after it looked like it might have been the next club to go out of business.

Since the 1950s, fans have left Eastend Park after the game to the sound of Jimmy Shand and his band’s ‘The Bluebell Polka’. The track was Jimmy Shand’s biggest hit, getting into the Top 20, becoming the first (and only) Scottish traditional dance band to have a top 40 hit. It was produced by George Martin, who produced all The Beatles’ albums. 

 
Jimmy Shand had an eventful life. He was born near Dunfermline, in East Wemyss in Fife. He was a miner who got blacklisted from working in the mines due to playing benefit gigs for striking miners. As a musician in the fifties, he’d release a record a month and was the first person to do proper tours up and down the UK, laying down the blueprint for the rock bands of the 60s. As far as we can tell, the club adopted the song following its chart success and, just like Crystal Palace and Liverpool, chart success has led to terrace longevity.

Buy the Sound of Football from Amazon.

Film Friday – The 2023 Barkley Marathon (Andrew)

Film Friday is a weekly recommendation of one video to watch this weekend.

No one has completed the Barkley marathon in the last five years. It’s one of the world’s hardest races, and every time someone completes it, they make it even harder the following year. Does anyone complete it, this year? This documentary is a good video of one first timers attempt at the marathon.

Devil of the Highlands Ultra Race (Andrew)

I had two goals this year: Celtman Solo in June and the Devil of the Highlands ultra race in August. Until April, I thought my training was going well for DOTH, but then I injured my foot – more here – before I also got a chest infection just as I was getting ready to start running again. Between illness and injury I managed to run only six times between Easter and taking part in Celtman Solo in June. And six runs do not make a good training programme for an ultra marathon. So, I have had to pull out of this year’s race.

I’m not disappointed, just realistic. Like admitting I’m not going to play for Scotland. Or stand on the moon. Or tie my shoelaces properly. You know things that I could feasibly do but I’ve not shown any likelihood of doing so far.

I need to run 42 miles. I can currently run 10 miles, at a push. And ,unless the other 32 miles are downhill…

[Checks map, shakes head]

… which they’re not.

Then pulling out was the only option.

Guide to Attending the Grand National (Andrew)

“He doesn’t use a saddle,” she said, pointing at her husband riding a stallion in a field, “he controls the stallion with his bum – and the saddle would only get in the way.”

“He controls the horse with his bum?!?” I asked skeptically.

“I don’t get it myself,” she said, “but he’s the greatest rider I’ve ever known and he says his bum can tell him what the horse will do, before the horse even thinks to do it.”

The woman I was talking to was a horse trainer and I was taking a horse riding lesson. She had over 60 horses so I assumed she knew what she was doing – but clearly not as well as her husband, the Bum Ranger. 

While she didn’t teach me how to control a horse with my posterior, I can confirm that, for me, riding a horse was less about telling the horse what to do and more about holding on and accepting that it will go in the direction it wants to go in. 

I wasn’t a good rider, though Mrs TwinBikeRun has kept up the lessons and has become decent, even though she uses an old-fashioned saddle and reigns and not a buttock.

As she loves horse riding, we decided to visit the Grand National, to see ‘real’ horse riding in action. Neither of us had been to horse racing before so I thought it was worth sharing a guide to how to get there and what to do while you’re there.

(And while this year’s race was notable for the animal rights protests, I’ll keep away from the politics of jump horse racing here. This is purely a practical guide to getting around.)

What is the Grand National?

I know the Grand National more as that thing that race that always causes someone to start a sweepstake in the office. It’s nicknamed the People’s Race but it should really be called the Office Sweepstake Race as, for most people, that’s all it is: a sweepstake to win £50 and beat Kevin from Accounting.

In-person, the race is not just one race but a series of races over three days culminating in the Grand National race itself on Saturday evening. 

Where is it held?

Aintree, near Liverpool.

How do you get tickets?

Ticket sales start almost as soon as the race finishes. There are different categories. We bought tickets for West Tip, which is a covered stand. On the day, we didn’t need to use the tickets as it was a nice day and we could find good places to stand next to the race barriers but it was good to know that if it had rained, we would have been able to sit in the stand and remain dry.

How did you get there?

We struggled to get accommodation in Liverpool and stayed in Manchester instead. From there, it’s around 45 minutes by train to Liverpool Lime Street station and then only a few minutes walk to Liverpool Central station to change train for Aintree. 

Where there long queues?

Not really. Everything is slick and we were on the train within 10 minutes of arriving at the station and, on the way back, we were heading away from Aintree within 20 minutes of joining the queue. Trains run every 7 minutes during the race and for a few hours after it.

What did you do at the racecourse?

First, we binned all our drugs. 😊

Then we alternated watching the races with checking out the parade ground and placing bets. Due to the number of people at the race course, it’s slow going to move around so leave plenty of time to see everything.

There were a number of good places to watch the race, with options to stand at the barrier near to the jumps. There are also screens for watching the parts of the race you can’t see from the pavilions. 

Do you have to dress up?

There’s no dress code so you can wear what you want. I wore jeans and a jumper and looked like a hardcore gambler because there’s eight main types of people at Aintree.

  • The young team dressed in polyester too tight suits
  • The stable set in tweeds and riding boots 
  • The country set in tweeds and flat caps
  • The peaky blinder set in polyester suits and flat caps
  • The evening dress girls
  • The barely dressed girls
  • The women with the hat they bought for weddings – and race courses.
  • And a small number of men (and they were all men) in jeans, a jacket and their head buried in a copy of the Racing Post.

Since I had jeans and a jacket I was a newspaper away from being a hardcore gambler. 

What was the food and drink like?

Lots of food vans, loads of bars and prices were not extortiate (though not cheap either). We didn’t buy as we arrived at 1:30 and left at 6 so had already had lunch so I don’t know about quality.

How easy is it to place a bet?

Very. There’s loads of bookies lining the racetrack. If you know what you’re doing, I’m sure there’s loads of options, but for us, we just placed £2.50 on X to win. You got a slip and, if you win, you take the slip back and they paid you in cash straight away. 

And did you win?

Yep!

Overall

Politics aside, if you’re thinking of going, then go. It’s good fun, plenty to do, and it’ll give you plenty of chances to see whether a top jockey can also control a thoroughbred with his bahookie.

The Sound of Football: Dundee United (Andrew)

Every fortnight we cover the best and worst football songs from every club in the UK from our book ‘The Sound Of Football: Every Club, Every Song’. You can buy it here

Dundee United

Nickname: The Terrors (and not The Arabs (see below))

Ground: Tannadice Park

Stadium Capacity: 14,229

Song: Love Is In The Air

For the 2014 Scottish Cup final, then Dundee United player, Ryan Gauld, was treated to a special version on an old classic. ‘Gauld’, sung to the tune of ‘Gold’ by Spandau Ballet, was designed to inspire the Tangerines — and their midfielder — for the cup final against St Johnstone. Sadly, it didn’t work. St Johnstone won, and Gauld left Tannadice soon after in a move to Sporting Lisbon.

It’s sad that the song didn’t catch on as it was another cup final anthem – ‘Love Is In The Air’ that came to define United.

‘Love is in the Air’ has been sung at Tannadice for nearly 20 years. It’s commonly thought to have been adopted by fans during the Scandinavian invasion of the 90s when the club acquired a clutch of players from Norway and Sweden. Back then, in honour of Swedish striker Kjell Olofsson, it was sung as ‘Olof’s in the Air’.

The song achieved tipping point and unofficial anthem status after Dundee United’s famous 1 – 0 victory in the Scottish cup final over Rangers in 1994 – Dundee United’s first ever Scottish cup triumph. And fans – known as Arabs – have been singing it ever since.

Arabs is a strange nickname as the club was originally set up for Irish immigrants. In 1909, a group of immigrants, led by bicycle dealer Pat Reilly, decided to form a new club – then called Dundee Hibernian – as a focus for the local Irish community. It chose an area of Dundee at Clepington Park as a ground for the new club. Pat had one problem. Clepington Park was already used by local side Dundee Wanderers. Undeterred, Pat had a quick word with the landlord and, after agreeing a higher rent, Wanderers was told to live up to its name, and find a new home.

Wanderers was livid. It had been based at Clepinton Park for 19 years only to be evicted by a club with no history, no place in any league and, at this point, no manager. Though Pat Reilly sorted that out too by appointing… Pat Reilly.

In a final act of (understandable) spite, before Wanderers left Clepington Park it dismantled a grandstand and wooden changing rooms along with the fencing which enclosed the ground. Wanderers even removed the goalposts so that all that was left was a grass field. In return, Pat Reilly, changed the name of the ground/field to Tannadice Park (named after the nearest street and entrance to the ground) so that no trace of Wanderers remained.

Today, there are few traces of Dundee United’s Irish origin. The name was changed from Hibernian to United in 1923 and the original green colours were changed first to black and white and then to its current tangerine orange. 

While no one knows exactly how the fans got their nickname as the Arabs, the most common reason given is that in the 1960s, after a particularly icy spell, United hired a tar burner to melt the ice on the pitch. However, tar doesn’t just melt ice, it also burnt all the grass beneath.

Undaunted by a lack of a playing surface, United ordered several lorry-loads of sand, spread it around, painted some lines on it, and played several games before the grass grew back. When the team started winning on this unconventional surface it was described as having taken to it like Arabs.

The name stuck and even after the grass returned, Dundee United’s fans started to dress up for big games and cup final appearances. Hence the fans are now ‘the Arabs’ and not the team – and why in Scotland you’ll find Arabs singing a Nordic inspired song.

Buy the Sound of Football from Amazon.

Celtman 2024

I’m part of a lottery syndicate at work. We don’t win much but what we do win we put aside and spend on a Christmas lunch for everyone. Some years it covers the starters, others it’ll cover a turkey and all the trimmings. We have never had a year when it’s covered a bottle of champagne to celebrate, we’ve never been big winners.

But, other that that, I’ve never won anything. No spot the ball contests, church raffles or multi million pound payouts. Nothing, that’s all I’ve got, until last week.

And what did I win?

Pain. And suffering.

Which are not prizes anyone wants to win. A speedboat is a great prize. Money is a great prize. No one enters a competition and hopes to get hurt. Except me.

Everyone who takes part in the Celtman Solo Point Five race is automatically entered into a draw* for the opportunity to enter the Celtman full race next year. 25 places are available and a random draw takes place after the race to offer 25 entrants a place in Celtman. And I won.

Or lost.

Because now I have a year to train for Celtman and to try again and win a blue or white t-shirt through 4k of swimming, 120 miles of riding and a marathon over a mountain.

And yet the losers of this competition get to put their feet up.

It doesn’t seem fair! 🙂

But, Andrew TwinBikeRun, you say, you don’t have accept the place. It’s not compulsory.

That’s true, but where would be the fun in that?!?

Celtman 2024 entered!

*The draw was conducted by ChatGPT and the AI selected 25 people randomly from the Solo Point Five entrant list. I’m glad the organisers used ChatGPT and not GlasgowGPT as the very sweaty Glasgow AI describes Celtman as this:

The Sound of Football: Dundee (Andrew)

Every fortnight we cover the best and worst football songs from every club in the UK from our book ‘The Sound Of Football: Every Club, Every Song’. You can buy it here

Dundee

Nickname: The Dark Blues

Ground: Dens Park

Stadium Capacity: 11,506

Song: Up Wi’ The Bonnets

In 2008, Scottish comedy legend, and Glasgow born comedian, Billy Connolly, caused controversy when he claimed in The Scotsman newspaper that people from Edinburgh were just not funny.

I don’t know why. I think it’s about immigration, because I don’t find Edinburgh people all that funny,” he said. “They’re very interesting and nice, but you wouldn’t point to funny as being one of their features.” 

Billy must have been deliberately provocative because as a stand-up and folk singer in the sixties and seventies he would have shared stages with one of the greats of Scottish comedy, an Edinburgh comic called Hector Nicol. And he would have thanked Hector, because, without Hector, Billy would not have had a stand-up act – Nicol was one of the first comics to introduce blue material to his routines.

Hector wasn’t just famous as a comic, he was also an actor and, before his death in 1985, he was a regular on Scottish screens in the soap series Take The High Road, which was like a Scottish Emmerdale Farm, or Emmerdale Croft. But Nicol’s lasting legacy was not his jokes or his performances but his songs. Hector was a prolific song writer for football clubs.

For Hibernian he wrote ‘Glory Glory To The Hibees’, a song and tune ‘borrowed’ by Manchester United today, for Hearts he wrote ‘The Hearts Song’. He also wrote ‘The Terrors of Tannadice’ for Dundee United and ‘Up Wi’ The Bonnets’ for Dundee.

Ironically, Nicol, despite his east coast home, was actually a fan of St Mirren, based in the west coast in Paisley, the town where he was born – though he never, as far as we know, wrote a song for them.

‘Up Wi’ The Bonnets’ sings of the pride fans feel at watching the players play in its traditional blue shirts.

You can sing of your glories of teams you have seen,

like the Saints and the Dons up in old Aberdeen,

but in all this wide world there’s just one team for me,

that’s the brave(bold) boys who wear the dark blue of Dundee

(Source: Hector Nicol)

But although Dundee’s best days are behind it, as the 21st Century has seen the club yo-yo between the SPL and the lower leagues while battling financial problems, its greatest moment came in 1961 when Bob Shankley (brother of Liverpool’s Bill) led Dundee to its one and only league title. The title winning team is commemorated in the final verse and is remembered before every home game as the team walk out to Nicol’s song:

For there’s Robertson, Penman and Alan Gilzean,

with Cousins and Smith there the finest you’ve seen,

a defence that is steady heroic and sure,

Liney, Hamilton, Cox, Seith and Wishart and Ure

(Source: Hector Nicol) 

Buy the Sound of Football from Amazon.

Race Report – Celtman Solo Point 5 – Part 2/2 (Andrew)

Last week I covered registration, the swim and my challenge not to come last. How did I get on? Well…

Cycle

The cycle route is 54 miles from Sheildag , around the Applecross peninsula and back to Torridon. It involves more climbing than the full Celtman course and includes the famous Bealach na Beag mountain pass. The UK’s highest road and one of the few roads in the UK with Alpine like switchbacks.

But it wasn’t the climbing that I was worried about, it was the descent. I hate cycling down the Bealach to Applecross. A few years ago, a friend fell off the road and broke their shoulder, collarbone and wrist. Admittedly, they’d not checked their brakes before cycling but it has put me off cycling there ever since.

It was raining as we left Shieldag for an eight mile stretch to the bottom of the Bealach. This was a good warm up to get blood pumping into the legs before the harder climbing begun.

I’d cycled it a few days earlier (one of my three outdoor cycles this year, see last week’s entry) so I knew what to expect. A steady climb and then an equally steady descent to the Bealach.

The rain stopped as the climbing begun and while clouds were down, and there was no view once we got to the two thirds point. The road is closed to traffic so it’s good to just put your head down and grind your way up the road knowing there’ll be no traffic coming in the opposite direction.

The first half of the climb is fairly easy, the second half ramps up. I was slow but steady all the way up and my hours on Strava had left some strength in my legs. Who says computer games are bad for you?

On the way down, I kept my brakes on for most of the descent and the squeals from my wheels sounded like someone had just jumped after seeing a mouse all the way down to Applecross.

The next section of the race, around the peninsula, has more climbing than the Bealach, but is spread out over more miles. I’ve cycled the route before so knew what to expect but if you’ve not done it then it can be tough to find you’re going to climb more on what should be a flat section than you do on the climb. But that’s the west coast of Scotland for you. There are no flat sections. Everything is up and down.

On this section, Iain TwinBikeRun punctured twice. He asked if I had a spare tube but as I use a tubeless tyre, I’d already taken it out of my seatbag. His race was over, he had to call his wife to collect him so I thought like the concerned good brother that I am: “haha, well, after that, at least he’ll be last!”

I was wrong.

I finished the cycle without ever pushing myself too hard. As soon as I hit a hill I dropped to the lowest gear and worked my way slowly up it. I didn’t see anyone until the last five miles. Between waiting for Iain and taking my time on the bike, the race was now taking place ahead of me.

At the run, I texted Iain TwinBikeRun to say he should pick up his kit and run with me. He could catch me at transition.

Run

That’s if I could find transition as I almost immediately got lost when leaving Torridon.

I don’t know how I did it but I was running along a road when everyone else was on a track. I saw a runner, he shouted I was running the wrong way and I climbed a bank of heather to join the track he was on only… to get lost again.

I came off the track at a point I thought it joined the road. It didn’t. But I didn’t know that as I climbed from the shore up through the forest at the site of Torridon and to the transition into the lower route around Ben Eighe.

Except I came to the transition after the exit to Ben Eighe, which I knew couldn’t be right. You had to go to transition and then go to the exit. You didn’t go to the exit first.

Again, I was lost. The Marshalls helped by contacting the organisers who confirmed I should keep going. I wasn’t the only one who’d taken a wrong turn.

Iain TwinBikeRun on the other hand had taken the right way and had caught up with me. We were able to leave transition together.

The lower level route had a cut of time of eight and a half hours from staring the race. 1:30 pm after a 5am start. Our aim was to make the cut off. After that, there was no time limit to reach the end.

We ran most of the downhill stretches, some of the flats and walked the uphill. There was some rain but it was largely dry and conditions underfoot were okay.

We saw a few other competitors the course ahead of us, and knew of one behind, who’d been at transition.

What we didn’t know was that these were the last competitors, we were competing for the wooden spoon.

But first we had to make the cut off.

We thought the cut off was 10 miles into the race. This was a mistake. It was actually 12 miles. That meant we had to run all the way down the final descent to get in at 1:26pm. We thought we had more time as the distances were shorter, but we should have checked that more carefully before we started.

Having run the last part, we then walked into the finish, another three miles to Torridon. We might have run but it was straight into a headwind and we wouldn’t have run much faster than we were walking.

The finish line

At the finish we broke into a run and I finished ahead of Iain by a few seconds. I’d made it. I’d achieved my goal. I wasn’t last. Iain was behind me, and even if he wasn’t DNF’d for failing to finish the cycle leg, there was at least one of other person behind me. Result.

Until we got the results and Iain was timed ahead of me! He was fifth last, I was fourth last. The b****ard!

Overall

A cracking challenging race in one of the most beautiful parts of Scotland. Definitely worth checking out if you fancy an extreme triathlon. But I would recommend that, unlike me, you actually get a full training programme behind you before you start.