We scramble to the side of the track as around the corner comes a gargantuan metal beast
Our sense of peaceful solitude is broken by what begins as a faint rumbling, but quickly becomes a violent shaking of the ground that reverberates up through our bodies. Until now our ride through the heart of the Galloway Forest Park has been one of misty beauty, the only sounds to be heard coming from the babbling rivers, the chattering of birds and the crunch of gravel under our tyres.
This is about as remote a corner of Britain as you could hope to visit. Galloway is a region in the far southwest corner of Scotland, squashed between the border with England to the east and the Irish Sea to the west. The villages are small, the roads quiet and the people outnumbered by the sheep. What Galloway does have is lots of empty green space and miles and miles of gravel tracks,
