Duncan McCallum: 'I have a mental picture of every tree root, every rock'

IN SCOTLAND we are lucky. Yes, the weather can be a bit wet, the wind a bit strong and the snow and midges frustrating. However, we have mountain biking; the best cross-country mountain biking on the planet. It's true that France and Australia have the biggest downhill trails, and the US has Moab and the Colorado trails, but for sheer quality and design, we lead the world.

The centrepiece has to be Glentress, south of Edinburgh, arguably the most successful mountain bike "resort" in the UK. I started riding seriously in 1996 after I bought my first bike with suspension in Canada during a filming trip with Chris Bonington. It was the start of a new obsession.

The nice thing about biking in Scotland, especially when time is at a premium (children, job, etc), is that you can get the fix of exercise and adrenaline in a relatively short space of time. I am not sure how many times I have ridden the "red route" in Glentress but I have a mental picture of every tree root, every rock and every corner. Knowing the line so well allows it to become a friend for an hour and a bit.

Travelling to a favourite place regularly allows me to gauge every mood, fibre and rhythm of my system. By the time I have reached the first car park, I know if I am bike fit. By the time I have finished the first descent I can gauge if my riding will flow and be smooth or if I am tense and tentative. Climbing to the top of the route, riding up hill hair-pins at relative speed will either be lung-bustingly painful or a power push.

Oddly enough, when the weather is very dry, the riding is often sketchy, the loose gravel breaks out of the surface causing a hopefully predictable speed drift on the corners. In the full rain it can be grippy too, the oily sheen found on humid days cleansed from the rocks. Dropping into the descent is a decision of commitment. Am I going to blast this – go fast and try and rail every corner – or drift and enjoy the breeze?

Like many things that are familiar, it has the ability to transcend into a metaphysical experience; focus and concentration merge into performance. In fast action, time seems to slow a little, awareness of every tree, pebble and root becomes heightened, vision is clear and distant. Here you can be riding very close to the limit, but if you are in the "zone" the flow is addictive. It brings you to the moment; harmony of action, body and mind, and for brief moments it is meditative.

Then there are times when there is a surprise. A rock in the trail, a new exposed tree route, the rogue thought penetrating the mind. They come at you quickly, precipitating immediate and instinctive action. At their worst, it's like an oncoming car threatening a head-on collision; they shoot a spasm of painful energy from your hands to your shoulders, demanding action and complete control.

But I am simply riding a bike, on a trail, in a forest, one that thousands of others have done. For me, Glentress is all of these things: humiliating, exciting, testing and wonderful. Surely the essence of an adventure sport is all these things too – mixing skill, excitement and risk in a great place. Count yourself-lucky if you live close by.

Find out more about Duncan's adventures at www.duncanmccallumadventure.blogspot.com and www.sourcealps.com. To find out more about Glentress, see www.thehubintheforest.co.uk.

• This article was first published in The Scotland On Sunday on April 04, 2010