As planned, I took the train from Glasgow to Blair Atholl, changing at Perth, and then cycled and hiked 15 miles up Glen Tilt to camp at the watershed, where I last camped over a quarter of a century ago. Hardly anything has changed in Glen Tilt in that time, and I must have camped within yards of my previous stay. I did run out of daylight, though, as the sun set at half-past four, so that I had to complete the last few miles of rough footpath by torchlight, manhandling the Pugsley over rocks and across streams and through heather; very aware that I was alone, I took it very slowly and deliberately.
The night was – as forecast – cold and clear (I put the tent up by moonlight), and I was very pleased to have taken my Thermarest All-Season Neo Air mattress: I felt no chill at all from the ground. I also enjoyed my treat, a pair of alpine down booties, which I even wore inside my sleeping bag, and as a result slept soundly.
Getting started in the cold morning required an effort of will, but the reward for being there early was a beautiful evolution of light as the sun rose over the mountains. I was underway before nine, and within the hour had filled my boots with cold water while fording the Geldie Burn.
I had not previously followed the ancient right of way from Deeside to Glen Feshie. Glen Geldie is quite bleak, and the monoculture of the deer estates leaves the hillsides barren and devoid of trees. The six miles of footpath across the watershed are slow going, a mixture of rocks and bog and sphagnum moss with very little dry grassland. The River Eidart is quite something to behold, and the bridge makes the route possible without a very deep river crossing at the confluence with the Feshie. It was clear but cold, and I found the exertion taxing.
I had made slow progress across the watershed and was looking forward to reaching the estate tracks in Glen Feshie; I had heard of a diversion due to a landslip, but was unprepared for the extent to which the map is wrong. The modern estate tracks ford the Feshie – a considerable river even when low – several times: not a proposition on foot, as the fords are broad and deep. The footpath alternative follows the vestiges of the original road, and is of course slower. I then hoped to cross to the estate road west of the Feshie, but the bridge shown on the map at Carnachuin has long been a sorry ruin, meaning another few miles of slow footpath on the eastern side of the (beautiful) glen. As a result of this I was not at all sure that I would make it to the train. The last eight miles of Sunday's 28 were a hard slog against the clock in the descending darkness, but in the end I did make it to Kingussie station with a quarter of an hour to spare, to catch the 17:19 train back to Glasgow.
An exhausting but wonderful weekend. Pictures are here.
Saturday, January 28, 2012 at 6:05PM | 