Following rivers to the sea: part 1

17 04 2017

With a couple of days to spend riding, an overnighter long overdue and some mixed weather a route presented itself that would follow some of the most well known and beautiful rivers in the southern Cairngorm area.

The train delivered me to Pitlochry on Thursday afternoon and despite some anxiety regarding how much and what sort of precipitation I would encounter, I was happy to start pedaling alongside the River Tummel, past Loch Faskally and the gorgeous singletrack at Killiecrankie.

The sun still had some warmth as I turned north at Blair Atholl to follow the River Tilt and I enjoyed the light on the hills enclosing the ever deepening glen as I climbed towards the waterfall where the River Tarf joins the Tilt.

Unfortunately, my luck with the weather was beginning to erode and some very cold rain had me head down and shivering.

It soon passed and the sublime track through upper Glen Tilt, which has been improved to drain some of the peat bog and offer a clearer, more ridable line, was awesome as the sun began to dip towards the horizon.

I was still anxious about crossing the Geldie Burn, but had noted how low the Tilt was and I hoped that it would not offer a significant barrier. Past the ruin of Bynack Lodge, I found the fording of the smaller Bynack Burn to be rideable and on reaching the Geldie, was stoked to find it also rideable. I have crossed this river a number of times and I have never seen it as low – even in mid summer. Incredible.

With barely damp toes, my concern for a very cold night were lessened slightly. The rain was holding off and the forecast for possible snow seemed remote though the predicted overnight high winds were clearly beginning to drive cloud over the Cairngorm Plateau at a significant clip.

Fortune was with me and the wind offered a helping hand as I sped along side the River Dee, through Mar Lodge and then into the regenerated Caledonian pine forest just east of Braemar.

The sun finally dropped fully behind the mountains and with it the temperature plummeted. My tent and sleeping kit set up was swift, with me shivering in my puff jacket. A warm meal and a couple of beers saw me asleep with a great days ride behind me.

Tomorrow would be some known and some unknown as I aimed to reach the sea on the east coast.

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To return, so soon?

12 07 2013

Last week end, as Sunday evening began, I took to the road again and made my way to Bridge of Tilt. Extricating my gear and body from the car as the sun’s light waned, I cinched straps, adjusted my shoes and headed north towards the Gaick Pass. I was pretty bushed and had no idea how far I would get, not least because the sun was relaxing towards the horizon and I only had an LED head torch with me. The aim was to push through the Gaick as far as possible, bivi, and re-supply (namely with water) in Aviemore in the morning. If it was looking like I had enough time, I would head over Macdui, drop to Linn of Dee and then come back along Glen Tilt – basically another stab at the route I had tried to do some weeks ago, but punctuated by a sleep stop.

By 11.45pm I came to the end of Loch an Duin singletrack, which had been a wee bit challenging in the low sun and with a loaded bike. I climbed up onto the end of the estate track from the Louis Vuitton lodge, realising that this was the highest point that was both flat and open to the passage of the wind for miles. I was pooped and as the wind is your friend when there are midge to be downed, I unrolled the sleeping gear, popped open a beer and watched the hills in the gloaming. I’m not sure if Scotland ever gets truly dark at this time of year when you are as far north as I was, but the night was warm, and it took me no time to fall asleep.

At 3am I was awoken by some grouse squawking, perhaps there was a fox around or something, and it took a wee while to go back to sleep. I woke again, soon after, cold, but the vapour barrier sleeping bag liner I had brought to experiment with seemed like overkill, so i just cinched the shoulders of the sleeping bag in, and zipped up the bivi fully. Maybe I should have just got up and started moving because I ended up sleeping in until 7.30am. In addition, I had forgotten my coffee filter. The combination of my slow thought – working out if my midge net would work to filter the grounds in boiling water or melt in the process – and the arrival of the day’s contingent of midge, as well as the distance I needed to cover, got me on the bike within a few minutes.

Curiously, I was 45 minutes slower to Aviemore in total ride time than I had been on the Maul a few weeks ago, reinforcing the impression that I had been shifting it a bit that day, Along with the late start, I did some sums, coming to the conclusion that anything other than returning via Feshie was going to get me home later than required. Somewhat ruefully, I stared up at the inviting summits, nomnommed a bacon roll and headed back to Insh to take a different approach into Feshie. It was clear that the weeks dry weather would be kind to me as I covered the notoriously boggy ground of the Feshie/Geldie watershed area with relative ease on the fat Knards. Unfortunately, I must have represented the highest concentration of blood meal for miles around because there was an unprecedented amount of clegs paying me far too much attention. I nearly broke myself in the 30c heat pushing super hard across the moor land, all the while desperately slapping at the inch long, incisor wielding, nasty bastards as they went for any exposed, and even unexposed, flesh in their quest for blood. In the end, I got 2 bites, but killed 5. I think that was a reasonable score.

As I made my way across the Abhainn Rath, this time with shoes on, a fighter jet passed very low overhead, swooped lower and then west as it turned into Tilt. Amazing!

Soon enough, I was making my way into the glen myself when another came over, totally unannounced until it was directly overhead, so close I could see the pilot in detail, which I don’t mind admitting caused just a wee bit of jittering.

Although there was a headwind again down Tilt, I made good time, closing the loop in pretty much exactly the same amount of (riding) time as I had done the other week. Interesting in some ways, because on the boggy sections in Feshie, I could ride on the Krampus, just, and it was also generally drier than previously, so I made up for being slower in nearly every other section.

It took 2 hours 40 minutes to get to the Abhainn Rath from Aviemore, with the detour at Insh, and I was back to the car 1 hour 40 minutes or so after that. Useful, for future reference. A good day, but unfinished business…





Substance.

9 06 2013

A solid week of sunshine in Scotland means one thing. Well, ok, admittedly it means more than one thing, but for *me* it means one thing – big rides on trails that are less than welcoming when the ground is wet. I have a penchant for big loops that tack together great trails, provide stunning views and, importantly, give a sense of wilderness. I have never truly reflected on my need for isolation, silence and solitude. Previously, I have explored several loops through the Cairngorm – probably my preferred part of Scotland.

Link back to some old entires: 1, 2, 3, 4.

Anyway. The plan was relatively simple and for once there were various sensible options. Start at Old Bridge of Tilt, head out on cycle route 7 north, past Bruar to Dalnacardoch and cross the A9 at the turn off for Trinafour and head through the Gaick Pass to Insh. From there, I could roll through Inshriach to Inverdruie with the possibility to deal with any issues in Aviemore, a refuelling stop meaning I could carry slightly less stuff – a note on this later. From here, I would have several options: 1) turn around and head down Glen Feshie, which was likely to be at it’s most rideable due to the prolonged dry spell. 2) go over Ben Macdui, drop down past Loch Etchachan and then into Glen Derry. 3) take the Lairig an Laoigh, past the fords of Avon and, again, down to Glen Derry.

The return was simple – from the Geldie Burn, I would follow the Allt an t-Seilich, then the Allt Garbh Buidhe to the Falls of Tarf and into Glen Tilt.

The other thing to consider was whether to close the loop in one go or take kit for a quick bivi. I can move faster if I am lighter, but my current fitness is questionable at best – I had never attempted this particular configuration. Estimating how long it would take me was tricky because there were some sections I had not ridden, for example from the Geldie to the Falls of Tarf, and I could not predict how strong I would feel.

In the end, taking advantage of our latitude and thus prolonged day light, I decided to bite it off in one go. Ideally, I would cross Macdui, but I wanted to see it with my own eyes to try and predict the possibility of difficulty due to snow. Although it has been sunny, the cornice overhanging the descent to Etchachan has a habit of persisting well past spring.

I awoke at 5.30am and got the last few bits of kit ready, filled the water bottles and took off. Soon, I was parked, chatted to some riders about to head off to do the classic Tilt loop, and made north. The climb to the moraine holding back Loch an Duin went very quickly. There was just enough wind to ground the midge and it was beautifully warm. The singletrack on the west side of the loch kept the interest level up and soon enough I was passing Gaick Lodge and onwards to Glen Tromie and after 3 short hours and change I popped out at Insh.

Given how quickly I was covering ground, and the fact I felt pretty good, I began to seriously consider Macdui. At this stage, you can ‘cut the corner’ and drop into Feshie, but that would have precluded a stop at Inshriach plant nursery and cake shop – which provided a welcome raspberry and blueberry calorie boost and some much needed extra water. From here, I took the typical Loch an Eilein/Piccadilly/Loch Morlich route to the bottom of the Ski access road. looking up gave me pause for thought: there was still a hell of a lot of snow on the east facing slopes of the corries. That raised the possibility of a significant amount of snow up top and that would mean a turn around after a brutal, several-hour climb, which would force a stop on the Aviemore side. Not really an option. I stopped for a few minutes, unwrapped a sandwich and did what any itinerant solitudinarian would do: I phoned my wife.

After a quick google search, she pulled up some info suggesting that as little as two weeks ago, it was all but impassable to the summit due to high snow volume. Even given the temperature of the last few days, I felt it was extremely unlikely to have melted enough to allow free passage.

Hmmm. So: Lairig an Laoigh or back to Feshie. As much as I like dropping into Glen Derry, the trail down to the Fords of Avon, and for the first wee bit after, sucks. Battering, slow going, on/off rocky mess. Fine if it is a means to an end, but seeing as the real gem in this area is the Etchachan descent, I would be doing the Laoigh simply as an alternative to Feshie, that I rarely enter due to its extreme bogginess in parts. No doubt, the first part of Feshie is extremely beautiful and it is a pleasure to pass the old trees and meander along side the river.

The weather meant this might be passable with minimum fuss and it had the advantage of avoiding high ground, around which some grey cloud was beginning to build. Decision made, I reversed and was soon rolling down towards Auchlean, around six and a half hours in.

Although it was as dry as I have ever seen it, progress slowed markedly after the Eidart bridge. No matter, my arse was beginning to feel pretty tender, so there was some satisfaction in getting off every now and again to yomp through the watershed, dried out sphagnum moss, peat, rocks and all. No doubt the Skittles sours helped the morale and the energy levels. Once you start, though, there is no stopping!

As I reached the ruin of Geldie Lodge, the trail improves to Land Rover track and the speed picked up again. I can’t quite remember exactly, I think because my attention was diverted to the huge rolls of grey cloud and precipitation moving over the hill tops to the west of my position, but I think I had been moving for around nine hours at this point. Apart from a wobbly hour or so in upper Feshie, stomach cramps and low energy, I was feeling surprisingly good.

One thing that you will encounter on the route is river fording. I had brought extra socks with me, but left them in the car. This forced barefoot scrambles over the river. I don’t know if I have particularly soft feet, but I find this very painful. Anyway, this time, I was careful not to lose my sock as I had one time in the Abhainn Rath, forcing a prolonged hop scotch on the wet rocks.

Soon enough, I was enjoying the narrow, steep singletrack on the descent down towards the Falls of Tarf. It was clear that there had been some pretty heavy precipitation and I was glad to still be dry. The rock was in places slippery and it was hard at times to let caution rule but I was tired and knew that it would be a bad time to take a digger.

On reaching the Falls of Tarf, I let out a deep breath that I suspect I had been holding for many hours. Barring a weird mechanical or a significant, random, event, I would be back at the car soon. Maul rewarded my exuberance with easy velocity – I sped down Glen Tilt and the end of an epic ride.

Some facts and thoughts.

The ride took 11 hours and 10 minutes in total. I took ~1.5 hours to get from Inverdruie to the ski hill, eat, be informed and turn around. I have no idea of the distance.

I rode Maul, my cross country bike. It is light, capable, comfortable and reliable. I did develop a creak from the rear of the bike. I will investigate.

I carried a Mountain Feedbag and a medium Wingnut. I had a water bottle with filter and a 3 litre bladder. In the end, I did not need the filter. My bag was too heavy – my back was unhappy and it was cumbersome, I should have strapped more weight to the bike. I could easily have used a second Feedbag, and I could have mounted a bottle cage under the downtube and perhaps a third on the steerer, courtesy of a King top cap bottle cage mount. That would have taken over a kilogram off my back.

I wore a patagonia capilene t shirt, endura equipe shorts, the chamois is second to none – important given I have not ridden for this long in recent times and an icebreaker mtb top. I took a buff, endura roubaix knee warmers, a 200g icebreaker long sleeve and a patagonia houdini jacket (perhaps the most valuable bit of kit I own!) as spares. I felt this was pretty light, but likely to see me through.

I ran tubes – 27psi rear, 24psi front. I was concerned about pinching on the rocks at various point on the loop. As soon as the Protection Contis are available, they will be fitted and I will return to lower pressures. The bike was a rocket, but I was rattled around and this would help a lot.

This loop would lend itself to a bivi stop and a lower overall velocity. There are so many beautiful places to bed down and it would offer an alternative, more relaxing, ride.

Ben Macdui could be easily (!) added into this loop. Or you could extend, taking in Tomintoul, much as the classic Cairngorm Tour loop that is in all the mtb guidebooks suggests.

My fitness is poor, but at about hour 8 I grasped hold of some strength I used to have. It was extremely gratifying to remember how empowering it is to move well in the mountains.