Lairig an Laoigh
Posted: Mon Sep 02, 2013 10:11 am
I look back down the valley, in the last light of the day it looks beautiful, unlike my mood. Being In the saddle for 10 hrs plus, im getting annoyed at the trail and guidebook, it promised a nice decent to the Fords of Avon, but I’m walking / pushing the frustration starts to take hold
All this began with the arrival of the Scotland wild trails guidebook, forced layoff due to injury saw me perusing the pages when I noticed had nice circuit close to Aviemore, not far from my parents’ house. A plan was forming around summer holidays. Build up to my trip wasn’t ideal: 6 sessions of physio, gentle exercises in the gym and too little saddle time saw me a little apprehensive about my plans
I was about to find out as I pulled into the carpark at the Glenmore youth hostel. I had emailed Gary who had kindly suggested leaving the car there overnight. Bike off the car roof and I was faffing, getting the unorganised bags in the boot into the drybags needed for the trip, weighing up what was needed, going through in my mind what was essential v overkill. ‘Hello Mart’ I hear Gary call out as he appears from around the back of the building. His bike ready & loaded, it makes me more aware of my disorganisation. We talk for a bit then Gary gets off on his own adventure leaving me to get my sub standard together
Eventually I feel ready, 10am and I’m off, leaving the car park, heading along the side of Loch Morlich. GLOVES! GLOVES!! I retrace my steps to the car, how could I forget? I feel unsettled by the basic oversight as I regain the loch and swing off onto the forest track that lead over to Loch an Eilein
Popular indeed with a number of walkers, I reach the end and turn off into the singletrack, past a bothy. I’ve settled into a rhythm but stop in my tracks as I get a pure ‘Simpsons’ moment when the clouds part, revealing blue sky behind with the added bonus of a bloody big eagle floating through the middle. I’m no expert in eagle identification, but its easily the largest bird I’ve seen.
Continuing on gets me to Glen Feshie and the initial road section as I head upwards. The road runs out and I’m back on the trail, going steadily up the North side of the river. I stop and inspect the bothy. Its 20 years since I last spent the night here and I was pleased to see it in good repair, well cared for and even with a Bog outbuilding. When I say bog, that translates to a hole in the ground over which is a metal framed chair is placed, which has a toilet seat attached. Simple solution.
Continuing eastwards, reaching a section of the hillside where landslip has eroded the path
I pause and consider the drop concealed by the bushes, into the river. I walk this bit, no place for an accident on a loaded bike, on your own so far from the car. Further up at the confluence of the river Feshie and Eidart, the trail goes northwards for a few hundred meters to a bridge crossing near a waterfall. Its stunning.
The bridge structure is made up of scaffolding poles, which look sturdy, unlike the boards you walk on, which span the structure and bend/creak as I cross. I gingerly use the outside edges where there is more support whilst humming the Indiana jones theme tune. Finally I’m relaxing into this trip.
The guide describes the path over to meet the Geldie Burn as’ indiscriminate’. I feel it’s more of a ‘tease’ as its just begs to be ridden more but it does its best with rocks, soft bits and drainage channels to disturb the flow. As it meets the track, things change and I’m moving quickly down the glen on the other side. Now in my head I have in my mind that I have to make a right turn at White bridge to take me down to the Linn of Dee. Upon reaching a junction I cross the river and another tributary getting my feet wet in the process. Only whilst wringing my socks out do I consult the map. D’oh Ive turned too early – wet feet return as I retrace my steps back across the water back on course. The blast down to the road is fast and smooth and I pick up the path leading back up Glen Lui. I used to come this way as a student, winter climbing in the Corries of the Eastern Cairngorms. Remembering the long dark walk from the minibus to the bothy, I’m surprised how quickly it goes whilst on a bike, making access so easy into the heart of the mountains. The bothy is still there, rebuilt after a fire destroyed it a few years ago.
I enter and chat to the ‘Bothy Mongerer’ inside called Ken. This bothy was my original destination for the night but at 5 in the afternoon it’s too early to stop. Ken recons 2.5 Hrs to the Fords of Avon refuge over the Lairig an Laoigh Pass. I press on, thinking that I can achieve it quicker (Ken will be used to walking speed)
Now Glen Derry is a stunning U shaped glen, Trees plentiful at the bottom gradually give way to a more open landscape the further you ascend. I reach the junction where a left path leads up to Coire Etchachan whilst my direction talks the left fork direct to the pass.
This bit is a push for a bit, steep, and twisting (I mentally note this would be good in reverse, the direction taken by the Cairngorm Loop). Half an hour passes and I’m getting tired. I push up the hill, making a mental note to better consider everything I carry. The guide says that there is a good descent to the steeping stones and the refuge, so when I crest the pass my mood lift thinking the worst is past. How wrong. The descent is even worse than the push up. Big Boulders interspersed with soft muddy bits. No place to mount and get a bit of momentum before coming off again. I don’t think I have ever pushed my bike down a trail before. Frustration and tiredness creep in as I curse the guidebook writer. I plod to the stepping stones and the last push of the day up the other bank to the refuge. Ken wasn’t wrong exactly 2.5Hrs
A soon as I stop, an empty peace fills the air. This place is as remote as they get. No one is home in the hut, and as sole occupant that suits me fine as I change and cook. Now the refuge has no windows and when the door is closed is pitch black inside. I sleep with the door open, so I’m able to tell what time of day it is. Facing east the door allows the light to flood in at sunrise.
Its 6.30am, early but I feel no need to rush. Coffee drunk and breakfast consumed I pack in silence. There really is no one for miles, as I head along the track behind Bynack Mor. The track here is more ridable if you keep to the edges, but you have to be careful as the heather hides the rocks and holes. Ascending up the track to the highest point of the trip is the bit I’ve been fearing, but with some steady pushing/riding bits soon passes. I consider how much difference a good feed, and a sleep make you feel. I’m pleased with how it’s going, the path getting more and more ridable as I get over the shoulder. I reach the highpoint of the trip – all downhill from here!
The path is wide and manmade. There are gaps, to allow water runoff. The first few are ridable, not so wide and my confidence increases as I try as best I can to hop the loaded bike across. What goes up must come down as the saying goes applies not only to climbing and descending mountains as it does to my confidence. I speed up to the a water channel to discover its much wider than the rest. Front wheel gets over OK but not so the back. BANG The heavy back wheel thumps the other side. I stop convinced that I’ve done a heap of damage (at least) a whole manner of scenario’s about what I sould do now go through my mind as I Inspect the rim/tyre/Spokes ……..nothing. I can’t believe I’ve been so lucky to get a way with it but it makes me more cautions as I descend the shoulder down the path riddled with the water channels. The bloke that made them mist have been paid the number he made, not by the hour.
The descent offers up some stunning views to the north, the clear morning is clouding over slightly. As I reach the bottom, I meet a foot bridge in every sense. A foot bridge is meant for feet not bikes. Its tight but I manage to ride to the middle before the handlebars get stuck on either side.
I chuckle as I sit there unable to fall off, supported on either side by the railings. I have to lift the bike up to proceed. The track leads down, turning left by Ryvoan Bothy, I resist the temptation to look inside as I speed down towards Glenmore. I stop at Lochan Uaine, a green coloured loch for a photo and before I know it I’m back at the car.
Only when I look at the time I realise its 10am, exactly 24hrs since my departure. Not that I was clock watching by any means, I’m pleased with my performance, and the fact my leg has held up OK. One thing about doing challenges like this is that it leaves you with a feeling of what’s next? Time to go back to the guidebooks, online trawling or maybe dig out the maps and route I had planned for the Welsh Ride Thing 2013 that I wasnt able to do.
All this began with the arrival of the Scotland wild trails guidebook, forced layoff due to injury saw me perusing the pages when I noticed had nice circuit close to Aviemore, not far from my parents’ house. A plan was forming around summer holidays. Build up to my trip wasn’t ideal: 6 sessions of physio, gentle exercises in the gym and too little saddle time saw me a little apprehensive about my plans
I was about to find out as I pulled into the carpark at the Glenmore youth hostel. I had emailed Gary who had kindly suggested leaving the car there overnight. Bike off the car roof and I was faffing, getting the unorganised bags in the boot into the drybags needed for the trip, weighing up what was needed, going through in my mind what was essential v overkill. ‘Hello Mart’ I hear Gary call out as he appears from around the back of the building. His bike ready & loaded, it makes me more aware of my disorganisation. We talk for a bit then Gary gets off on his own adventure leaving me to get my sub standard together
Eventually I feel ready, 10am and I’m off, leaving the car park, heading along the side of Loch Morlich. GLOVES! GLOVES!! I retrace my steps to the car, how could I forget? I feel unsettled by the basic oversight as I regain the loch and swing off onto the forest track that lead over to Loch an Eilein
Popular indeed with a number of walkers, I reach the end and turn off into the singletrack, past a bothy. I’ve settled into a rhythm but stop in my tracks as I get a pure ‘Simpsons’ moment when the clouds part, revealing blue sky behind with the added bonus of a bloody big eagle floating through the middle. I’m no expert in eagle identification, but its easily the largest bird I’ve seen.
Continuing on gets me to Glen Feshie and the initial road section as I head upwards. The road runs out and I’m back on the trail, going steadily up the North side of the river. I stop and inspect the bothy. Its 20 years since I last spent the night here and I was pleased to see it in good repair, well cared for and even with a Bog outbuilding. When I say bog, that translates to a hole in the ground over which is a metal framed chair is placed, which has a toilet seat attached. Simple solution.
Continuing eastwards, reaching a section of the hillside where landslip has eroded the path
I pause and consider the drop concealed by the bushes, into the river. I walk this bit, no place for an accident on a loaded bike, on your own so far from the car. Further up at the confluence of the river Feshie and Eidart, the trail goes northwards for a few hundred meters to a bridge crossing near a waterfall. Its stunning.
The bridge structure is made up of scaffolding poles, which look sturdy, unlike the boards you walk on, which span the structure and bend/creak as I cross. I gingerly use the outside edges where there is more support whilst humming the Indiana jones theme tune. Finally I’m relaxing into this trip.
The guide describes the path over to meet the Geldie Burn as’ indiscriminate’. I feel it’s more of a ‘tease’ as its just begs to be ridden more but it does its best with rocks, soft bits and drainage channels to disturb the flow. As it meets the track, things change and I’m moving quickly down the glen on the other side. Now in my head I have in my mind that I have to make a right turn at White bridge to take me down to the Linn of Dee. Upon reaching a junction I cross the river and another tributary getting my feet wet in the process. Only whilst wringing my socks out do I consult the map. D’oh Ive turned too early – wet feet return as I retrace my steps back across the water back on course. The blast down to the road is fast and smooth and I pick up the path leading back up Glen Lui. I used to come this way as a student, winter climbing in the Corries of the Eastern Cairngorms. Remembering the long dark walk from the minibus to the bothy, I’m surprised how quickly it goes whilst on a bike, making access so easy into the heart of the mountains. The bothy is still there, rebuilt after a fire destroyed it a few years ago.
I enter and chat to the ‘Bothy Mongerer’ inside called Ken. This bothy was my original destination for the night but at 5 in the afternoon it’s too early to stop. Ken recons 2.5 Hrs to the Fords of Avon refuge over the Lairig an Laoigh Pass. I press on, thinking that I can achieve it quicker (Ken will be used to walking speed)
Now Glen Derry is a stunning U shaped glen, Trees plentiful at the bottom gradually give way to a more open landscape the further you ascend. I reach the junction where a left path leads up to Coire Etchachan whilst my direction talks the left fork direct to the pass.
This bit is a push for a bit, steep, and twisting (I mentally note this would be good in reverse, the direction taken by the Cairngorm Loop). Half an hour passes and I’m getting tired. I push up the hill, making a mental note to better consider everything I carry. The guide says that there is a good descent to the steeping stones and the refuge, so when I crest the pass my mood lift thinking the worst is past. How wrong. The descent is even worse than the push up. Big Boulders interspersed with soft muddy bits. No place to mount and get a bit of momentum before coming off again. I don’t think I have ever pushed my bike down a trail before. Frustration and tiredness creep in as I curse the guidebook writer. I plod to the stepping stones and the last push of the day up the other bank to the refuge. Ken wasn’t wrong exactly 2.5Hrs
A soon as I stop, an empty peace fills the air. This place is as remote as they get. No one is home in the hut, and as sole occupant that suits me fine as I change and cook. Now the refuge has no windows and when the door is closed is pitch black inside. I sleep with the door open, so I’m able to tell what time of day it is. Facing east the door allows the light to flood in at sunrise.
Its 6.30am, early but I feel no need to rush. Coffee drunk and breakfast consumed I pack in silence. There really is no one for miles, as I head along the track behind Bynack Mor. The track here is more ridable if you keep to the edges, but you have to be careful as the heather hides the rocks and holes. Ascending up the track to the highest point of the trip is the bit I’ve been fearing, but with some steady pushing/riding bits soon passes. I consider how much difference a good feed, and a sleep make you feel. I’m pleased with how it’s going, the path getting more and more ridable as I get over the shoulder. I reach the highpoint of the trip – all downhill from here!
The path is wide and manmade. There are gaps, to allow water runoff. The first few are ridable, not so wide and my confidence increases as I try as best I can to hop the loaded bike across. What goes up must come down as the saying goes applies not only to climbing and descending mountains as it does to my confidence. I speed up to the a water channel to discover its much wider than the rest. Front wheel gets over OK but not so the back. BANG The heavy back wheel thumps the other side. I stop convinced that I’ve done a heap of damage (at least) a whole manner of scenario’s about what I sould do now go through my mind as I Inspect the rim/tyre/Spokes ……..nothing. I can’t believe I’ve been so lucky to get a way with it but it makes me more cautions as I descend the shoulder down the path riddled with the water channels. The bloke that made them mist have been paid the number he made, not by the hour.
The descent offers up some stunning views to the north, the clear morning is clouding over slightly. As I reach the bottom, I meet a foot bridge in every sense. A foot bridge is meant for feet not bikes. Its tight but I manage to ride to the middle before the handlebars get stuck on either side.
I chuckle as I sit there unable to fall off, supported on either side by the railings. I have to lift the bike up to proceed. The track leads down, turning left by Ryvoan Bothy, I resist the temptation to look inside as I speed down towards Glenmore. I stop at Lochan Uaine, a green coloured loch for a photo and before I know it I’m back at the car.
Only when I look at the time I realise its 10am, exactly 24hrs since my departure. Not that I was clock watching by any means, I’m pleased with my performance, and the fact my leg has held up OK. One thing about doing challenges like this is that it leaves you with a feeling of what’s next? Time to go back to the guidebooks, online trawling or maybe dig out the maps and route I had planned for the Welsh Ride Thing 2013 that I wasnt able to do.