RSF - The Off Road Cycling Club

The Adventure Starts Here

Cairngorm Circular

by Richard Simmons

 

My tour started at Blair Atholl - convenient for the first night's camp and a site to leave the car. From here, a good track leads up Glen Tilt, through a magnificent woodland with views of the river cascading through the rocky gorge. I saw my first red squirrel on a bird feeder at the entrance, and a whole multitude of bird life in the woods. It was early May and as usual midge-free, warm and sunny. The Tilt track is easily rideable for over ten miles and the end of the land rover track, which would take walkers all day, is reached in less than two hours.

A single-width path is then taken to the Falls of Tarf - a spectacular double waterfall spanned by a suspension bridge erected in 1886 following the drowning of a walker. Onwards it is an easy push and I was over the top for lunch, at the ruins of Bynack Lodge.

It was boots off for the crossing of Geldie Burn and a job to keep the bearings out of the water, but a pleasant paddle on such a day. I was now approaching civilisation again as I passed scores of walkers and cyclists (even an R.S.F. member on tour) and then people walking in posh shoes with no rucksack. That's it - another 100 yards to the Linn of Dee, where the wide, pebble-strewn river enters a deep gorge.

Needing provisions and the use of a phone the following day I headed upstream to Luibeg for the first night's camp under remnants of Caledonian pine forest. As the day's tourists slowly disappeared, deer came close to the tent to graze, and another red squirrel dashed amongst the pine cones nearby.

The following day was cloudy with the tops shrouded in mist. Hopes of climbing Ben Macdui were abandoned, for a retreat to Braemar. Then it was back-tracking to the Geldie Burn and on towards Glen Feshie. My camping destination was unclear, but still having enough food for three days it wasn't really a consideration. The track was easily rideable as far as the lodge, but then it became a wet and stony path. Exchanging boots for shoes made it more pleasant as I passed dozens of false summits through miles of bog. I couldn't be certain where I was exactly - but somewhere between two valleys. As I stood above one grassy hollow, a herd of up to 200 deer were startled and made a stampede over the moors. On a clear day you might see some peaks from here, but today it was wet and misty.

Suddenly I was at the top. It jumped at me unexpectedly, and from a small cairn I could see a valley dropping away to the distance. This gave me false hope: the path kept disappearing and reappearing as I looked for the footbridge over the deep gorge of the river Eidort. I found a scaffold construction over a huge waterfall and only a narrow handrail. A notice reading "Cross at your own risk" didn't make it feel any safer, so first I crossed empty-handed, then once with the baggage and lastly with the bike. I couldn't get a good view of the waterfall without getting perilously close to the edge, so continued downwards.

Shortly I reached the first real opportunity to camp, at the meeting of the Feshie and Eidort. It was raining quite heavily now and was windy too, but I though it better to reach lower ground. Another hour and I reached the dramatic scar of Rhuige nan Leum, water rushing down, and a small green patch for the tent. Soon it was tent up, waterbottle filled and cooking on. Rain beat against the side of the tent and for several hours I sheltered inside. The rain stopped for ten minutes and I made a brief exit, only to discover I had a neighbour! It was Bob, walking coast to coast, and we shared drinks and stories for the rest of the evening squeezed into one tent.

It was still raining in the morning and I began with a paddle across the burn before loading up. Glen Feshie is a spectacularly steep-sided valley comprising heather, waterfalls, rocks and remnant pine forest. I was lucky to see an eagle in the early morning. Descending isn't particularly easy, with a lot of uphill sections, and two landslides to cross clinging to scree and boulder. It was a long way down, but the lower route by the river would have involved a knee-deep crossing or two. It was only on reaching Ruigh-aiteachan that I started to make headway. I crossed a dilapidated wooden bridge closed due to its precarious nature, and was on the tarmacked estate road, finally reaching the end of the trail by mid-morning. At Insh the sun came out and blue sky appeared! A chance to unpack sodden camping equipment and dry it out. Then I discovered a bulge in the rear tyre, waiting to blow. On asking a passing lady for knowledge of a bicycle shop in Kingussie, she went to fetch her husband who brought a tyre I could have. The front went on the back, and my new one on the front. All went very well, until replacement tyre and tube went with a bang whilst I was pumping it up. Next it was bulging tyre on the front, a new tube, and a pile of rubbish to tie on somewhere. Not for long though - I managed to intercept some bin-men on the way to Kingussie.

The mountains were calling again for another wild camp, so I began my return towards Blair Atholl via Glen Bruar. The tarmacked estate road could have been quite fast, but a combination of the day's excitements and driving winds and rain kept me in check and I crawled along in granny gear. I planned to camp beyond Craick Lodge in the shelter of woodland but I was disappointed to find saplings bending over in the wind, and nothing beneath but branches, ditches and sheep droppings. I found a slightly sheltered spot on a patch of wet grass and moss; perhaps the last place within reach that day. Waves formed on the loch, and the skies remained dark, I was ready for food and shelter. The wind raged all evening but somehow I was in a sheltered spot, and my only worries were to keep belongings clear of the sheep droppings, and to keep the water out of the entrance. Each time I moved water oozed out of the sphagnum.

The following day was rain, wind, and a few sunny spells. The track would have been easily rideable without the headwind, so an easy push instead. The river was up, and it was boots off for another crossing before following the loch at the foot of An Dun. Stronphadruig Lodge now stands empty and following a cooked lunch I descended to the A9 on another smooth track. The old road is now a cycle route and made a pleasant return trip to Blair Atholl.

TOUR NOTES

Maps used were OS 35, 42 and 43. This circuit could be done one pass per day, using S.Y.H.A. hostels at Pitlochry, Braemar/Inverey and Kingussie or independent hostels at the same towns and at Insh. This would save carrying so much gear, but be prepared for a long day (particularly Glen Feshie). There is a lack of suitable camping places in the Craick, ie flat and grassy, but it is not impossible. Good boots are a must, and a waterproof jacket (rather than a cape) keeps your arms free for the scrambling.