After
such a civilised break, it felt really strange setting out at the crack of dawn
on Thursday. Passing the ruins of
Ruthven Barracks I headed away from Kingussie towards Glen Feshie.
For the first time in
the whole journey it was warm enough for me to remove my jacket – at least it
was until I got into the shadow of the trees. Then it went back on again.
I
was trolling along quite happily until I noticed this sign with warnings about
dangers ahead. Luckily the notes we had been sent before the Challenge had
mentioned these landslips, and I knew the route was passable with care.
The lower glen was
really beautiful. I could see why so many people had good things to say about
this place. There is obviously considerable investment by the estate as there
were long stretches of new paths, and I saw teams of people carrying out
additional improvements.
I was struck by the
wild flowers, particularly the number of patches of violets that I saw.There were also places
where there were huge numbers of tadpoles wriggling in shallow pools near, and
in places on, the path.
I
stopped at Ruigh Aiteachain bothy. A MBA member called Lindsay was staying
there and doing some work for the estate. He had the stove on and was brewing
up for all the Challengers who called in. He even gave me a slice of sultana
cake. Lovely! I stopped and had a break for about an hour, before pushing on up
the valley.
I was glad that I had done so, and had a good
rest, as the terrain started to get much wilder a couple of miles higher up the
valley. Lindsay knew the area well, had given me some insight into getting past
the landslips, and suggested a couple of places where it would be good to
wildcamp.
As the valley
narrowed and headed east the path was more or less contouring along screes. The
first landslip had occurred where a tree had fallen, wiping out the path
completely. I crossed the loose stone very gingerly, glad that I had recently
been joined by Bernie Roberts, who was doing his 20th crossing, and
had been up here a number of times.
Whereas the underfoot conditions had been
good in the lower valley, as we climbed it got worse and worse. We crossed a
couple of other landslips, and then reached the more open ground of the high
valley. By now I was getting really tired. I had wondered about pushing on
across to the upper Geldie valley tonight, but decided that enough was enough.
I settled for a pitch at the old shieling near the waterfalls. There is an old
ruined hut there known as ‘The pony hut’. Too tired to faff about, I pitched my
Trailstar, I ate a scratch meal and got my head down.
Day Eight, Friday May 17th
2013
Early to arise again
I was off again at 6.30am, knowing I still had to make 17 miles to get to
Braemar, where I was due to meet hubby Ron at the Youth Hostel, and to have a rest
day on Saturday.
Looking back as I
left the area I could see Bernie’s tiny red tent for miles. He had won it as a
prize for something in TGO2012. I can remember him being presented with it at
the dinner in Montrose.
I
had heard many stories about ‘the bridge’ at the waterfalls here early on
today’s route, but didn’t realise quite what they were on about until I
actually got there.
Poised high above the tumbling waters I could
see that this was no ordinary bridge, however, it looked OK from a distance…
… but this sign put
my heart in my mouth as I crossed, feeling it move beneath my feet.
The first few miles
after that were a bit bog-hopping, but paths started to appear and to improve.
I think I had got onto Mar Estate land. By the time I got down to the ruined
bothy by the crossing on the Geldie Burn I was in my element. I decided to stop
for a proper meal as I had not eaten very well last night. I went to get water
and realised that in all the times I have been here I have never seen the
waters so low – and today I was not going to have to wade across! Last year the
raging waters were well up mid-thigh. Today I could possibly have hopped across
rocks with my boots on. Such are the vagaries of rivers in Scotland.
Pushing on down the
valley I had a lovely walk, but did not stop to take pictures. I was in
‘yomping’ mode, covering the ground quite quickly. It was nice to be on
familiar ground after so much navigation pressure during the last few days. The
section from White Bridge to the Linn of Dee was a doddle.
It
got really warm, and I was glad to plunge my feet into the icy pools at Linn of
Dee, before pushing on to Mar Lodge.
I was really disappointed when I got to
Mar Lodge. Last year there had been a lovely walker’s café in the gun room, and
I felt welcomed and cossetted. This year there was a message passed from anther
Challenger who was there: “make yourself a cup of tea or coffee and drop some
money in the box”. No biscuits. None of the scones I had been fantasising
about, and certainly no bacon butty. Feeling deflated I only stopped long
enough to down a small cup of tea, before pushing on down that last road-thrash
to Braemar. How I hate that stretch. I am always tired out and looking forward
to stopping when I do that section. Enough moaning. Suffice to say, I was on my
last legs when I got into town – and delighted to see ‘my beloved’ walking
towards me! I don’t remember much else then except struggling to get my legs in
gear to climb up the drive to the door at the Youth Hostel, and the blessed
relief of having made it at last.
Rest Day, Saturday May 18th
2013
Not much to report – taking it easy all day.
We went for a run in the car during the morning, then a little walk with Ron at Linn of
Dee where he took this picture. I have always had an afinity for this place, as my name is Lindy...
We went for some excellent scones at a café in Braemar, where we sat and chatted
with Gayle, Mick and others before returning to the youth hostel. It started to rain hard around lunchtime, so I was very
glad to be indoors. The staff at the hostel are lovely – they really look
after Challengers. Ron was doing a great job of looking after me too. I did
lots of eating, snoozing and reading, generally sorted out my kit and got ready
to go again. Perfect for a rest day.
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