3 days in the Cairngorms - Ride report

Day one
I’d been keen to get a bikepacking adventure fix before the winter set in. Earlier summer trips had been lower scale than originally planned after an Exmoor / Dartmoor trip was replaced by more wanderings around the North and South Downs. So it was that a friend and I booked onto the sleeper train for a long weekend in the Cairngorms.
Last Thursday was the departure night and with the forecast looking decidedly average, we boarded the Caledonian Sleeper at Euston around 9:30pm for the long journey to the mountains. We had a return to Aviemore, but with the wind forecast to be stiff and from the south, we decided we’d get off at Blair Athol and aim to ride north to Aviemore. We packed the bikes neatly into an on-board shed big enough for 6 and settled into our comfy seats with a couple of beers and maps to plan.
A slightly restless night for both, my best sleep was had when I set up my camping mat, pillow and sleeping bag in the bike shed and managed to get 4 hours of decent kip on the floor. That was until I was awoken by a “hey pal, you cannae sleep in ere” as the guard turfed me out. He was surprised to find me squeezed between the wheels of our bikes but congratulated me on getting away with for so long.

Anyway, we were eventually dumped at Blair Athol around 6:30am in the drizzle and dark. Time for a coffee while we waited for the hotel to open. We’d been promised they could squeeze us in for a cooked breakfast but service wasn’t till 7:30. Rain was forecast until the afternoon so we were happy not to be rushing off first thing as we sheltered on the platform.

Breakfast was great from a proper old school Scottish highlands hotel. It had a strange 80s/90s breakfast playlist, a moody maître d’ and more random taxidermy than you’d necessarily chose to encounter before a meal. But fed and watered and with the rain looking lighter than expected, we packed up and began the trip in earnest.

We were aiming to go up Glen Tilt, over the top towards Linn of Dee before heading up Glen Derry to Bob Scott’s bothy. Not a massive ride, but mainly up hill. Fortunately neither of us are into massive days in the saddle and prefer to enjoy the journey than crank out the most miles possible. Our decision to start here and head north was a good one though. All the way up Glen Tilt the wind was like a hand on our back pushing us along (this would become a theme of the trip). The drizzle eased as we climbed, and when a squall of harder rain would come through you hardly noticed as it wasn’t in our faces. The River Tilt was absolutely firing though, due to the rain they’d had the previous few days. This was a worry as just passed the top of the glen we had to ford three rivers which can get shady if there is a lot of water moving around. More on that later.

As we reached the upper narrow section of the glen the landy track gives way to tight single track with rocks at derailleur height and sections with an alarmingly steep drop to the right and long tumble to the river rapids below. It was beautiful though and only got better when the sun started to peak through. We pedalled, pushed and forded smaller streams all bathed in the stunning scenery of this amazing glen. The effort to get up here and risk of a soaking is so worth it. you just dont get scenery like this in the south east...

By the time we emerged from the steep sided glen the blue skies were out. We still had that lovely tail wind as we meandered across the relative flat lands towards the ruins of Bynack Lodge. Then, out of nowhere, disaster strikes. I managed to snap my chain downshifting to get out of boggy bit. No bother I thought, chain tool and quick links mean this should be a five minute job. Unfortunately, pulling my tool kit out it became apparent I’d lost the nib of my chain tool and now had no way of removing the pins of the bent links. With the prospect of a 12 mile push to Braemar filling my head with dread I got to work on a bodge. Fortunately I was able to snap one of my smallest allen keys off my multitool and then snap that in half again so it would fit into the chain breaker in such a way that it would push the pin out. Success. I’ve never been so happy to see a complete chain linked up on a bike in my life.

We gladly peddled on to the ruined lodge for lunch. Boil in the bag carbonarra tasted great sat in the sun sheltered from the wind by the ruined buildings. It is gorgeous up here. We knew the next bit was make or break. Three rivers to ford, apparently each deeper than the last, the last being the Geldie Burn, which can get pretty rapid in spate. If we got over these, it would be an easy pedal to Linn of Dee and the last section up to the bothy. If we couldn’t get over, our plans would need change and we didn’t have a version B.

The first fording went ok. We’d given up on keeping feet dry so it was a case picking up the bike and stomping over. The next one was not so easy. As I stepped to the far side it got deep and before I knew it I was up to my waist, the water pushing me over. Fortunately I could reach and dump the bike on the other bank and stagger out.

As the Geldy Burn is supposed to be the hardest we were both getting worried. Then it all got a bit surreal. Just as my mate was wading into the burn (which looked better than we feared) we got a toot toot on a horn from behind. Some old chap was driving a Landrover up with 4 American tourists in the back. It was also pulling a trailer with an argocat on top. They’d been out stalking and were happy to give us a lift over the ford. As the old boy chucked my bike on the trailer we caught sight of what it was resting on. Two dead stags compete with bloody entrails. We clung onto the trailer, my saddle getting gored by the antlers as we were carted over to the other side.

Anyway, we were safely over and on our way. Cruising downwind towards the forest at Linn of Dee before heading up Glen Derry. A short pedal on nice fireroad brought us to Bob Scott’s bothy. Like all bothies, it’s free to use you’ve just got to hope there is room for you. It was deserted when we arrived, and surprisingly well appointed, this one even has a loo of sorts. Clearly there is no power or running water so it’s like camping without the tent. We were joined first by some walkers who just wanted to have their sandwiches out of the wind before heading on and later by a solo walker. It was lovely just chilling out by the river side, wandering up into the deciduous woodland with the leaves looking their autumnal best. A great spot to chill and read a book as the sun sets. This is the great thing about not ruining yourself with some massive miles. You have the time and energy to properly relax!

Later in the evening, we were joined by another chap. It turned out he was one of the main people responsible for maintaining the bothy. He'd lugged a big bag of coal up so we were able to charge up the burner stove and get the place toasty warm for the evening. He shared his stories of being a high altitude lavvy attendant, in charge of swapping over the composting toilet bags every month or so, even in the dead of winter. Sounds lovely. Anyway, it’s people like this that make these bothies a viable option, always decently maintained and they’re always taking on new ruins to turn into places to stay. His blog is a good read and it covers all the bothies in the Cairngorms - https://cairngormwanderer.wordpress.com/the-bothies/ .

We had a decent night's kip though. Mega dosses of fresh air always knock me out in the evening and we were all looking forward to another day in the hills the next day. No one really knew what the weather was going to do, I was just hoping it would remain as good as this: