Gaick Pass
It would be a massive understatement to say that I have been itching to get out fastpacking since the new year but anyone who lives just about anywhere in the UK will know exactly how shitty the weather has been.
In the last few days, I have been looking at the weather and Saturday 28 February was shaping up to be a sunny, dry day across many areas. Sunday, not so much, with a chance of light rain. However, waiting for two or more consecutive dry days at the moment could be a very long wait indeed. I always think that if you can stay dry on an outward leg and risk getting damp on a return leg, that is generally OK.
Given the snow remaining at higher level, now rapidly thawing in these much milder temperatures, a lower-level route seemed best, and I decided to re-visit a route I did before, albeit a few years ago now. On that occasion, it was late May, the nights were long and I didn’t even start until mid-afternoon!
Much of the route is hard-packed dirt road or decent track so there isn’t too much battling through bog or water-logged ground and the last 10 miles or so are tarmac. In a nutshell, I would take the train to Aviemore, arriving about 1130 on the Saturday and the destination would be Blair Atholl by about 1100 on Sunday for the return train.
The route would follow the Speyside Way from Aviemore through Kincraig to Drumguish. There, I would turn left and head up the glen towards Killiehuntly, thereafter continuing up Glen Tromie. I would then head up to the high point of the route at Gaick Pass.
After Gaick Lodge, there are a further two lochs and several decent camping spots and I would camp somewhere in that stretch dependent on time, daylight etc. Pitching in daylight should be achievable, barring anything unexpected.
As soon as there is enough light on Sunday morning, I would head south, past the old Sronphadruig Lodge and down the excellent track past Badnambiast before reaching the A9 at Dalnacardoch. From there, it is a relatively level journey down the old road to Calvine, Struan and the House of Bruar, culminating in the soul-destroying road plod along to Blair Atholl.
Day 1
I arrived at Dundee station in time to get an earlier train through to Perth, this avoiding the dreaded bus replacement service and ensuring I would make the connection with the Inverness train. Soon enough, I was heading north, watching the miles tick by outside the window. As we passed Drumochter, the sun came out, as was the forecast and things were looking up.
I got off at Aviemore and was running almost immediately, south down the road to the roundabout and the road down to the A9 junction. However, the turn for the Speyside Way comes after about a half a mile and I was then off road.
The track is undulating and the views change continually, from open fields looking across to the Cairngorms to very pleasant woodland.
I was careful not to run too much early on as there was a long way to go, but I was making good progress, past the back of the campsite at Dalraddy, reaching Kincraig after about seven miles. I headed through the village, downhill to the bridge across the Spey. The sun was shining and it was pleasantly warm.
Leaving Kincraig, the path winds slowly uphill until the turn into the forest is reached. This is a really pleasant section and once some height has been gained, fantastic views open up to the north across Loch Insh.
The path narrows as it makes its way up and through the forest before a section alongside the minor road which leads to the entrance to the carpark at Uath Lochans.
The lochans are a tranquil haven and there are adundant, signposted walks around the lochs and the forest. Much less well known than the popular loch walks closer to Aviemore and much quieter as a consequence.
The track climbs up behind the lochans and there is then a long downhill which allowed me to stretch my running legs and make up some time. The track then transitions to well maintained single track as it makes its way along behind the houses at Insh before eventually reaching the settlement at Inveruglas.
After Inveruglas there is another mile or so of very pleasant forest track until Drumguish is reached. The signpost at the junction with the Glen Tromie road marked what would be roughly the halfway point of my day.
I knew that the next section up Glen Tromie would be long. I wouldn’t go as far as calling it dull but the first half is a bit of a slog up gradually climbing estate road, with limited views as reward. I was ever aware of the hardest part of the route at the end of the day so I measured my pace with a progressive run/walk.
Soon, the views opened up for the last few miles and as I approached the river crossing marked by the imposing lodge building, I could see turmoil in the weather up in the direction I was heading. Dark impenetrable clouds swirling amongst the peaks indicated snowfall might be in my near future.
It was getting cooler anyway and would only get colder as the final push for altitude up to around 500 metres was imminent. Thus, I stopped and put on my waterproof as well as putting the waterproof pack cover on too.
True enough, about 15 minutes later, the snowy squall hit me and lashed at my face as I climbed. However, it passed over in time for me to reach Tromie Dam and before long, I was alongside the first of the three lochs that mark the journey through Gaick Pass.
Loch an t-Seilich was still partially iced and the snow on the hills behind indicated that I was finally entering wilder, higher country. The track continues alongside the loch and at the other side, Gaick Lodge comes into view. The lodge is still used by the estate and the track is well maintained to that point. Beyond, things change to a much rougher and rockier 4×4 track.
I could feel the day’s destination coming ever closer, but I was conscious that daylight would soon fade fast as it was now well past 1600 hours. I wanted to get as far as I could in daylight, to reduce the miles for the following morning. So, after over 20 miles of dry feet I had to negotiate my first water crossing and dry feet were no more!
I rounded the forest plantation after the river crossing and the second loch, Loch Bhrodainn came into view. This is a great spot, looking south over the loch to the Corbetts beyond.
My legs were really starting to feel the miles now, but I pressed on. I had forgotten how long the next couple of miles seem and by now, it was past 1700 and I had about 30 minutes of decent light left. My mind was set on a camp spot adjacent to the third and final loch, Loch an Duin and the light was really fading as I eventually reached its shores.
I needed to find a tent pitch and although I recollected several grassy areas at the north end of the loch, level and suitable pitches were not immediately obvious.
Additionally, the high hills at either side of the loch funnel the wind up the loch and it was much windier than I wanted. However, it was too late to press on so I found a small spot near to the shore which looked like it would accommodate the tent. As I was pitching, I found that I just couldn’t get decent purchase with the pegs in the stony ground. So, I had to turn the tent with the back of the tent facing into the wind. This was going to prove crucial as the next hours passed!
It was getting dark as I continued to pitch the tent and I was cold, mainly due to calorie deficit by that point. As a consequence, I rushed in putting up the tent and I simply didn’t take enough time in attached the flysheet properly to the poles. As there was limited purchase for the pegs, I also didn’t cinch everything as tight as was perhaps needed.
I am basically trying to say that I made a bit of an arse of erecting the tent and I was going to pay for that in due course.
However, once I was in the tent, I sorted my stuff as quickly as possible and got into my sleeping bag, applying my dry warm clothes for the night. I was initially cold but as I started to eat, some body heat returned and the down in the sleeping bag soon transformed this into cosy warmth. Something at least!
I whiled away the next few hours with some downloaded video and music from my phone. However, the wind was continually buffeting the back of the tent. At that stage, it wasn’t too bad, and I felt confident the tent would hold.
I tried to stay awake as long as possible and about 2245, I turned off the light and settled down to sleep. I was tired but warm so what could go wrong?
Well, quite a lot as it turned out.
The wind seemed to gust more strongly and this was really compressing the back of the tent and causing the whole thing to flap about very noisily. I think the noise and general concern about the tent prevented me sleeping.
I think I maybe got about an hour of sleep between about 0030 and 0130 but that was it.
Not only was the tent buckling more and making even more noise in the strengthening wind gusts but the wind had also brought snow which it began driving against the back of the tent. As the next couple of hours passed, I tossed and turned as the snowy squalls continued and the tent suffered even more under the onslaught. I periodically had to bang the back of the tent to shake off the snow which was gathering and causing the tent to incline even more towards me. There was nothing I could do to fix it other than getting out to completely re-pitch the tent and I just wasn’t prepared to do that.
So, I endured another couple of sleepless hours, but I continued to remain toasty in my sleeping bag which was a big relief in the circumstances.
About 0400, things got worse. The snow and relentless wind started to defeat the tent, and any remaining structural integrity was rapidly disappearing. It got to the point that I had to physically hold out the back of the tent in the stronger wind gusts.
Day 2
Sleep was clearly impossible, so I had a decision to make. Full collapse of the tent was becoming a very real possibility and I was not ready for that. So, I ate as much as I could and began packing my things. I started by dressing in my running clothes, then working my way through other non-essential items like pillow, sleeping bag liner and sleeping pad until it was just my sleeping bag left. I was now committed to bailing, whatever the weather outside.
It was about 0530 now and still fully dark. The snow was still being driven by the wind, and I looked out to see up to a couple of inches where the ground had been bare the previous evening. I mentally rehearsed a sequence for dismantling the tent, put on my shoes and ventured out.
Once I was out and on a mission, I just ignored the weather and had the tent dismantled and packed in about five minutes. I put on the pack cover, topped up my soft flask and headed off.
The path alongside the loch is narrow and undulates considerably. However, the fresh snow highlighted the track and the direction I needed to go. As I pressed on, the movement started to warm me and I could feel my hands and feet warming up as I moved. I was wearing my merino balaclava and hat underneath my jacket hood and my head was still cold!
Eventually, the end of the loch was reached and I crossed the short and normally boggy section towards the river. At the river, I made an error as I believed that I had crossed the river on my previous excursion. As it turned out, I had crossed before and shouldn’t have done then either! I should have continued along the river bank for a couple of hundred metres until a bridge was reached, along with the 4×4 track I needed to be on.
The river was flowing fairly fast with meltwater and there were a couple of over the knees moments before I reached the far side. So much for warming up!
I followed the faint path up away from the river but after a few hundred metres this became barren moorland. I realised I had made a mistake and by using my Garmin map, I changed course again back towards the river.
Unfortunately I reached the river to the south of the bridge but I wasn’t going back so I just waded it for a second time, then finding myself on the track adjacent to the now abandoned Sronphadruig Lodge. The lodge sits in trees next to the path but looked like a horror movie set in the faint morning light and swirling mist.
Once on the track, all navigational concerns were over as it would lead me all the way to the A9 in about five miles. I made quite good time as much of the track is downhill and it was quite runnable, at least once I had made the slightly hairy crossing of the collapsed bridge!
If you compare the photo above to the earlier one of my initial tent pitch, you will have a sense of how much the weather changed overnight and how much snow fell.
I plodded on, past the abandoned cottage at Badmambiast until the final little climb to the forest materialised out of the morning cloud. By now, I was down below the snowline once more and I enjoyed the downhill stretch through the forest.
Before long, the A9 crossing at Dalnacardoch was reached.
Now, the next section along the old road to Calvine is between six and seven miles of gently undulating tarmac. Ideal you might think. However, on tired legs and in light rainfall, it is a long and unforgiving journey as the miles slowly tick by. My legs were too weary for consistent running, so I adopted a progressive run/walk which in time brought my average pace down below 12-minute miles.
I reached House of Bruar just before 0900, its Sunday opening time. I would happily have called it a day at that point and retired inside for a hot breakfast and coffee. However, that was dependent on a bus into Blair Atholl in time for the train at 1117.
Alas, being Sunday, the first bus was at 1215. I decided then that I was going to have to plod on for the final three to four miles into Blair Atholl. However, I could then retire to the hotel with an hour or so to spare before the train.
The run/walk into Blair Atholl was a predictably miserable affair. There are two extremely long and flat straights. There were a lot of puddles, and it was raining consistently now.
I simply plodded on and tried to switch my mind off and there was never a more welcome sight than the village sign just after the castle driveway.
I went straight into the Atholl Arms and claimed a sofa by the roaring log fire. I set out my hat and gloves to dry, put on my spare warm layer and settled down for my coffee and bacon sandwich. What a fine reward!
The train journey back to Dundee was blissfully uneventful and I was home and sorting through my kit by 1330 in the afternoon. It is on these days that a simple hot shower seems like a luxury!
The stats are below. Over 40 miles in under 24 hours on mixed surface and in wildly varied weather.
I knew the second day was likely to be wet, but I hadn’t factored in the amount of new snow which just made it even more interesting.
The whole tent scenario was a clusterf*!k but I made the right decision at the right time in abandoning camp for an unscheduled early start in the dark. That gave me more time in the end and the option to relax for an hour before the train, so, not all bad.
As far as the running was concerned, I felt strong and my knee only made itself known for a couple of fleeting instances. There is nothing better than these back-to-back fastpacking days to strengthen the legs.
I am happy that I finally got out for a fastpacking trip this year. It has been a long time coming. I think the imperfect conditions and setbacks just made it a more interesting and challenging trip, although not one I would rush to repeat in a hurry!
There is more work to be done before the France fastpack in just four weeks and less than two months now to the BTU Highland Ultra. That race in particular cannot come soon enough as the Whatsapp group is already driving me f*!king insane.
