A long train journey got me to Aviemore after 2 hours waiting for a connection in Inverness.
During my wait, I visited a couple of phone shops and then went to Morrisons for an early lasagne lunch which made its presence known in some malodorous emissions later in the day. I asked for salad with the lasagne. It came, neatly displayed, on a separate plate, in a plastic bag, as if it was being kept for a special occasion. The salad was half coleslaw and the coleslaw was mostly mayonnaise. The mayo was pure white and probably safe for vegans. Nevertheless, I enjoyed my meal – at the time!
Arrival in Aviemore brought unwelcome news – snow on the tops. Clouds too. With the wrong shoes for snow, Roclite 295s, it looked as if this was going to be a low level trip. Such heavy traffic on the road to Coylumbridge that I was glad to get on up the track beside the caravan park. Soon there were no more walkers but mountain bikers came by sporadically.
The Rothiemurchus forest, which as a biologist I had been looking forward to, soon became boring. The trees and shrubs were all the same age and largely devoid of birds. This forest needs bison and wild boar to tear it up, producing a greater diversity of plants in the process. Of course, if the Rothiemurchus was properly rewilded, I’d be the first to complain.
A family came by with their bikes set up for bike packing. I saw them pitching shortly after the Cairngorm Club footbridge. They must have known where they were going as few pitches are visible from the Lairig Ghru track. The ground between the trees is covered by heather, bilberries and juniper, again all of the same age.
The track started climbing and still I was unable to spot any decent pitches. The heather moor above the forest was sodden and tussocky. Finally, when I had started to wonder whether I would find anything before dark, a pitch appeared. Sadly, it was on the other side of a healthy burn. And then the Trailstar was reluctant to fit the small patch of dry grass. One peg went in gravel over the edge of the burn’s bank and another was on the far side of a small, wet bog.
This morning is taking ages to brighten up because of heavy clouds. The Trailstar proved a hero. Enough rain fell to have the tiny bog under one corner of the tarp flowing but there was no condensation inside. By a stream, in Autumn!
The write up continued when I reached Bob Scott’s Bothy
Going back over the burn was no nicer than the first crossing had been and then the weather deteriorated. I put my poles away as my hands were cold and wet. Fortunately, the foul weather was hitting my back.
The summit turned out to be 2 kilometres of boulders with occasional grass and a couple of lochans. Green grass made its first appearance on the descent. Pitching a tent would be much easier on this side. The burn running south from the Pools of Dee was too boisterous for a visit to Garbh Coire bothy to be tempting so I decided to go to Corrour to try out the new facilities. Still the rain continued and each little side burn spewed across the path.
A walker emerged from the drab background. He was possibly Scandinavian and seemed a thoroughly decent chap. As we chatted a fast walker in black and red waterproofs descended from the murk hiding the Lairig. He overtook, telling me it was an hour to the bothy.
When the bothy came into view, I spotted one person in pale clothing as well as the fast walker in red. After an ill-advised shortcut to the bridge, I discovered that the two men were there to change the toilet bags. A couple of Germans were also in the bothy, waiting for a clearance in the weather for an ascent of Ben Macdhui. They must have spotted a patch of blue because they set off. The two workers burned their overalls in the fireplace and we settled down for tea and a blether. Malky, the fast walker, had to head back through the Lairig so he soon left, too.
The two of us left continued talking until a hiker, who had climbed the Devil’s Point joined us. He was the sanitation expert’s son. Then they and their Labrador headed out. I followed after a civilised dump into the brand new toilet bag.
Writing up my adventure, using the Day One app on my phone, has halted again, this time by visitors to the bothy. More in the next post.