Much studying of maps plotted a route starting at Stonehaven train station and then zig-zagging back and forth across the mounth, bagging a number of these routes ending up in Aviemore at my pals place. After my tour of the previous year and plenty of biking so far this year, I was up for doing this on my mountainbike - an Orange 5. I'd already bagged the Cairn O'Mounth Road (i.e. the B974) on my cross bike at the end of April in glorious weather so I figured this would be logical next step in my fledgling bikepacking career. I'd lightened my load a bit since the previous year and I reckoned if I strapped my tent to the handlebars and carried a seat pack I'd acquired with tools and what not, I could carry everything else in a 35l rucksack. I'd booked my usual last week of May off work, train tickets were booked for the Saturday morning from Inverkeithing to Stonehaven and I'd managed to cram everything I needed into my rucksack.
Pedaling down to the station was OK but the sack felt a bit heavy and the bike a bit bouncy with all the weight. Too late to change anything now, just have to hope the air shock doesn't go pop. The train journey passed without incident and at around 12.30pm I departed Stonehaven station and headed for the hills. This was a good move as within a mile of the station I'd hit the dirt. Much of my planned route is the eastern part of the Coast to Coast route however this bafflingly leaves the hills at Glen Mark and then just follows roads down to Montrose. I entered Fetteresso forest soon after the first trail and some careful navigation threaded a route though these woods to the start of my first Mounth road, the Builg.
It had been dry as I'd left Stonehaven but the sky had got progressively darker as the afternoon went on. Inevitably as I climbed out of the woods and onto a rough grassy trail over the moor the first spots of rain came on.
Top of the builg Mounth
Beyond this point the trail seemed to fade into the tussocks. A better bet was a stony forest road which skirted round the hillside and then dropped down to the Cairn O'Mounth road at Bridge of Dye. I stopped to put waterproofs on as it was now raining in earnest and breezy. I followed the track along Glendye into the teeth of all of this so inevitably when I reached Charr Bothy after a couple of miles I decided this would be my first stopping off point.
It looked totally deserted; so imagine my shock on opening the door to find a group of teenage girls in residence. Oh shit, try and be as none threatening as possible....
"Hi there looks like I'm in here tonight given the weather!"
"Oh we aren't staying, we're doing a Duke of Edinburgh award hike so we have to camp"
"Oh that's tough luck" (Phew!)
I went through to the back room and started to unpack. Shortly after I heard the group depart so decanted to the main room to cook tea. This was a frozen chilli and rice I'd made previously and brought with me so the first nights meal was luxury. As I sat eating and reading the door went and a couple in their 50's appeared. Turns out they were the guides for the D of E group and were also camping. We chatted a bit about our respective routes and then they left to chaperone their charges.
The rain eased off enough for me to have a wander about. The D of E lot were a hundred yards away and ensconced in their tents so I retreated to my sleeping bag and read until it started to get dark. I slept OK but woke up later feeling distinctly chilly. Unfortunately this bothy doesn't have a fire and after 6 weeks of continuous sunshine, the week I'd taken off work was set for northerly winds which harked back to the monster of a winter we'd just had. I put on all my clothes and soon fell asleep again, waking to a cool, breezy but sunny morning.
Breakfast was interrupted due to my lighter breaking. I searched the bothy for a match but came up dry. Oh bloody hell I was going to have to ask a bunch of teenagers for a light.... Fortunately their mentors were up and about so I shamefacedly blagged a box of matches. By the time I departed they were long gone but I passed them on the long climb up Mount Battock. This stands at 780m so fairly low by the standards hereabouts but the climb was at that gradient which requires max effort but isn't steep enough to justify pushing. The last section is a rough trail so I did get off eventually and summitting revealed a rapidly approaching rain cloud....
Mount Battock summit, rain just about to strike!
The descent was a bit vague so I headed off on a compass bearing to ensure I hit the right track. There is obviously a lot of shooting up here as there are many more big wide tracks on the ground than on the map. I'd researched the next section carefully as I was aiming for just such a track that wasn't on the map but would link to the Fungle Road without a big altitude drop / climb. I'd scoped this on Bing aerial photos - these are fairly up to date and you can switch between them and old edition OS mapping which is great for route planning. I'd marked up my map for nav purposes but in the event the tracks were all obvious now that the sun was back out. This follows the ridge line past Mount Een and the turn off right is just after this. You drop steeply into glen Tennet, skirt round a low bump (Cairny Hill) and then join the Fungle Road.
This was my next Mounth road and is a cracker. I passed another D of E group on big climb number two, a guy on a bike mentoring another D of E group and then this group. The final section to where the Firmounth splits off the Fungle was still a rough old style landrover track but various bits of machinery lying around hinted at more improvements to come.
Looking back to Glen Mark
Fungle road turn off
The Fungle road descent turned out to be a beauty. As with all such unknown dashed lines on the map, you are never sure if its going to be a motorway or a vague line through the heather which abandons you in the middle of nowhere. This had clearly been recently upgraded with the usual stone water bars and drains, none of which presented a problem for the '5. It does seem a bit odd that this work has been done as I can't see this route getting a lot of use and the bits of the old trail visible looked OK. Whatever it was fast and fun.
Looking back up the Fungle road, the zig zags just discernible at the top.
A peach - the trails were all still incredibly dry after 6 weeks of sun, despite a couple of weeks of more normal weather. This trail was a hoot but a couple of sections looked like they would be very boggy normally. After another house your back on rough double track which descends all the way to the road. I went into Aboyne for food and supplies for my next move.
This involved backtracking a bit and then heading up Glen Tanar. Next up was the Firmounth Road which would take me back over to where I'd been earlier and then down to Glen Mark. Before that I was planning on a camp as it was now tea time. I started the days third steady climb wondering where I could stop. A map check earlier indicated a tiny lochan beside the track which would hopefully provide a level area. Before this I came across a taped off bit of the track and a sign indicating the route was closed due to nesting Capercaiile. I can't be doing with this. There was no mention of a diversion, so what was I meant to do? Backtrack, go home, what? Of course I did what everyone else would do and just kept going. Caper Caillie don't care about people hence their tendency to nest in stupid places but as usual someone had felt the need to try to stop people without actually thinking through how practical it was to do this....
Anyway onwards and upwards I went until I got to the lochan. A bit of wandering around came up with a perfect spot just past the lochan, well sheltered from the breeze which was on the increase. The sun was shining however so I was able to strip off and bathe in the stream, dry off and sit in the sun cooking and eating tea. After a wander around my environs I eventually turned in to read and relax after a tough day, chuffed I was finally wild camping for the first time in many years.
Given the noise of the wind I put the ear plugs in for a good nights kip. Sure enough I zonked out and didn't come too until a decadent 9 am. Removing the earplugs I got a shock, it was blowing a gale and lashing it down. Hmm, not ideal weather for what I was planning but I made breakfast, packed up and ventured out, ever optimistic it would pass through as with the showers of the previous day. Views out of the forest weren't promising with solid cloud cover whipping along and no sign of the rain stopping. The Firmounth continues to climb steadily until eventually it reaches the forest edge. The trees had been sheltering me from the worst of the weather as venturing past them revealed the full force of the wind and rain.
Its worse than it looks.
My route would involve a big climb to 725m, a descent back to 190m and then a monster climb over the Mount Keen Mounth to over 800m. I was variously concerned about this, mainly relating to my bare legs and lack of over trousers. It was cold even at 500m and I was decidedly dubious about venturing higher. I knew that what would happen was that I'd do the first climb and then bottle the next, likely then just riding out on the road which would inevitably lead me back home. I decided that the best bet was to keep to the woods for a bit, head over into Deeside and then along to Ballater where I would take stock. I splashed back down the hill a ways and then turned off onto another track down to Glen Tanar. On a whim I turned up this track to search out the 'halfway hut' shown on the map. This turned out to be a small timber bothy in which I took welcome shelter whilst I ate an early lunch.
I rode a bit further up the track to get a view of Mount Keen but it was still covered in cloud, justifying my bale out. I wasn't too fussed as it would still be there next year....
Heading back down the glen, the rain showed signs of easing off. I was aiming for a track which climbed out of the forest over a low ridge and down to near Dinnet where I could pick up the Deeside way. After a promising start it faded away somewhat but as usual, having committed this far I felt I had to go on. At least the sun was now shining but it was cold and glimpses of Ben Avon in the distance revealed fresh snow.
Eventually I reached a house shown on the map. It seemed to be in fine fettle but deserted and the track up to it a rutted muddy mess.... I followed this to another, better track and then popped out on the B976 seemingly many hours and miles after I'd left it the previous day. Up this for a mile and then across the Dee and onto the Deeside Way. This follows an old railway line but is just an ash surface so a pleasant alternative to the road.
Apart from the wind which was strong and right in my face. I trundled on and pretty much decided then and there to head for the Ballater hostel. I'd stopped in this place on my mini tour in April and its a great spot, crucially with a drying room which I was much in need of. I even stopped to rinse the worst of the mud off the bike and my legs in the Dee so I looked quite respectable when I checked in. It was only 2.30 and a Monday so I figured it would be quiet. I was wrong - the TGO coast to coast challenge was on and thanks to the horrible weather, many participants were seeking shelter. As it happened I got the last bed which was lucky but the place was packed. I stripped off my wet gear, got showered and headed for the drying room. It too was packed out but the tumble dryer wasn't in use so I bunged everything in that, stuffed my boots with newspaper and then spent a couple of hours in the comfy living space reading and drinking tea, something I can do for long periods of time.....
I chatted to various C to C walkers who regaled me and others with tales of daring do. To be fair they all seemed quite impressed with my undertaking. It seems none bikers are a bit shocked that you can go off road and camp.... Many were rescuing packages of food they had posted to the hostel before they started which seemed a bit stupid. Did they think there were no shops in Scotland? Plus they were only out for a few days so could easily carry all their stuff with them given it was all freeze dried stuff. I, of course, hit the co-op for my usual hostel tea of corned beef, beans and potatoes.
Thereafter I hit a likely looking pub in the town centre which had a couple of ales on and was quiet. I was now a day ahead (ish) of my original planned route. Next was to head north from Ballater over another couple of big climbs including the Ladder Road. This technically isn't a Mounth road but the survey on Heritage Paths made it an interesting prospect. The weather forecast wasn't inspiring however... A few pints later I staggered back to the hostel and turned in amongst my fellow outdoor enthusiasts, ear plugs guaranteeing me a fine nights sleep despite all the snoring. I would sleep on my thoughts of earlier and decide in the morning.
Breakfast was a leisurely affair and most of the others had already left. A French lady who'd also been in residence when I'd passed through in April chatted a bit and then the warden appeared. She advised that no-one else would be staying that night so I booked in for a second night on the spot. This enabled me to get the tent out and dried and to plan an easy day. A quick visit to the local bike shop got some intel on local trails (I figured there was lots of single track around but they weren't telling a stranger which is fair enough) so off I went up another big climb. This took me out of Glen Muick on what is actually the end of the Mount Keen Mounth road.
Deer chasing
Eventually I reached the ridge. A few sprinkles of rain had blown through and it was seriously cold. The views around were good though....
Fresh snow on Lochnagar as well as the old patches from the monster winter.
Looking North over Ballater to the Ladder hills
The elusive Mount Keen
I followed the ridge north and then bombed down a fun descent. Halfway down my front brake started making a horrible noise. The pads had worn out and the spring had made a bid for freedom. Fortunately I had spares so spent a leisurely twenty minutes changing them. Back in Ballater I bought spares from the shop and then got them to suggest another route. This would take me north of the town but first I needed lunch. This was courtesy of a rather posh cafe in which I felt out of place amongst all of the great and the good of Ballater (there is a distinctly royalist air about this place, Balmoral being just down the road). I also bought a pair of gaiters in the hope this would keep my socks dry.
The afternoon saw another humongous climb - first on back road up Glen Gairn and then on an estate track up towards Morven Lodge. Heading east was with the assistance of a monster tailwind, I then followed a vaguer route south over Peters Hill and along a vaguer again trail to a radio mast above Ballater. The descent was on its fast access track. I suspected that here would be the source of much single track but as nothing was obvious I was happy to stick to the track.
Morven Lodge. Mink trap in the foreground (empty thankfully)
As I returned to Ballater so did the clouds. I got inside just before the rain came on so was happy I wasn't fighting my way across the Ladder moors to the north. Instead I spent another pleasant afternoon reading and drinking tea, followed by fish and chips and beers in the pub.
The next morning as I headed out it was grey and windy but not as cold. I was heading for Braemar, the Ladder road would have to wait. In the interests of honour I was going to go via another Mounth road - the Capel Mounth - and my final one of the trip, Jocks Road. Riding up Glen Muik revealed that there must have been a lot of rain over night as the river was in spate:-
The Capel Mounth starts at the Spittal of Glen Muik. There were numerous hill walkers hanging around, doubtless eyeing up the weather and debating on their days walk. I rode right on through and onto the first part of the climb.
This is another big one and typically as I topped out of the first section, the clouds descended and the rain came on.
Of course this wasn't the top and further climbing ensued followed by a substantial moor crossing. Finally the track ended and it was down a steep switch back trail into Glen Doll. The rain followed me down so I dived into the Glen doll visitor centre to dry off and warm up. There was couple of Rangers at the desk but they ignored me as I sat eating food and girding myself for what was to come. My mate Rob had indicated that Jocks road wasn't that bike friendly but what the hell, the alternative was back tracking or a road ride out and back south.
Off I went, the rain coming down. The first section was a rock fest which the '5 rode over without a problem. On the big track climbs I'd been doing up to this point, I have to say that for the first time I was doubting the usefulness of rear suspension, despite many years of being its best exponent. This almost certainly relates to my tendency to do routes involving steep, rough climbs and techy descents and not long climbs on easy tracks. On these the rear suspension just seems to bounce uselessly. I'd actually started using the damper lever on the shock which has two positions of increasing 'anti-bob' (sic) that actually seemed to make a difference. Anyway, finally on this trail it made sense.
Out of the trees the rain had eased up a bit but climbing up the steepening and technical trail, clouds loomed over the cliffs all around and I felt decidedly nervous about my undertaking.
Up and up.
The climb was a good one, just how I like it and I rode a lot more than anticipated. eventually it defeated me but this was near the top of the main steep. Here I encountered Davy's Bourach, a small shelter built into the hillside next to the trail. This was built by a local Walker (Davy Glen) after five hill walkers from Glasgow died in a winter storm when crossing this route. Its a bit poky but of considerable benefit if the weather was really horrible. For me it was merely damp....
Beyond here the trail is less well defined and I made my one nav error of the trip, following the burn line instead of climbing up the slope. I was following a path but when it petered out I realised all was not well. Of course this was the point that the cloud started to descend but after a bit of head scratching and waving of compass I climbed up the slope and picked up the proper route. This was clear up until the final summit at Crow of Craigies at 920m. The cloud was down and it was blowing a gale.
The top....
Looking at the map, it was clear that given the lack of visibility, the path concealing rocky ground and the various ridges and bumps all around a nav error would be easy. I was aiming for a coll between Crow Craigies and Knaps of Fernie from which Jocks road descended steeply west to Glen Callater. Out came the compass again and off I went on a bearing. Soon enough a path appeared but at the coll there was little sign of the descent. I wandered to what looked like a likely spot, reassured my self that I was in roughly the right place going the right direction and set off.
This was all unrideable so I was on shanks pony. Fortunately I soon dropped out of the cloud and was able to identify signs of the trail below. I actually rode this bit - a few short zig zags before it disappeared into a boulder field. Finally the glen bottom was reached and the sky cleared somewhat.
Looking back to the 'trail'
The trail out was pretty rough at first but showed increasing signs of having been worked on until it was a typical upland style path. Actually good fun, albeit slow going, and it fought me every step past the loch until I reached Callater stables, an MBA bothy.
Looking back to the route - Jocks road crosses to the left of the far bump.
Callater Stables
I was feeling incredibly chuffed at having done Jocks Road but I suspect I'll not do it again south to north as walking descents is never a good thing. Doing it north to south would be harder but better. The hike a bike climb would be brutal but most / all of the descent would be rideable.
Bombing out of the track from the bothy to the A93 I came across a pair of fancy goretex gloves lying in the track. Unfortunately I came across their owner shortly afterwards so whilst he was well pleased to get them back, I was a bit miffed at having missed out on a freebie that would have been most useful given my cold fingers! Rather than head down the '93 I crossed a wee footbridge and joined the back road into Braemar. I'd booked the hostel the previous day but as it happened booked the wrong one. Still the one I had booked which was attached to a hotel was actually pretty good, and only had one other person ensconced. As per I headed for the Co-op for food and after cooking and eating were done headed for the pub.
Braemar is a funny place. A stranger may well assume its a typical tourist town with everything very twee and proper. In terms of hostelries it's far from ideal. The first time I stayed here (in the other bunkhouse) with my then girlfriend we tried in vane to find a good pub. The bar next to the Invercauld Hotel was full of Celtic shirt wearing neds (in Braemar??), the Fyfe arms was a tour bus run type of place and the bar was horribly impersonal. A few years ago I came up to do an upland path management course with the NTS and they had taken us to a much more homely place further up the town.
The Invercauld public bar was now shut and the Fyfe Arms full of tour bus types so I went in search of this other bar, only vague memories of its location. After a bit of mooching about I found it but inevitably it was no longer the place it had been in 2003. The bar was now brightly lit and furnished with cheap aluminium garden furniture. I wandered up to the bar where they at least had Trade Winds on draft but the guy was less than welcoming:-
"Can I help you?"
"Err, I'd like a pint please"
"Are you eating"
"No I just want a drink"
"..........Oh...OK then"
Apparently it wasn't but I guess he figured I wasn't about to burn the place down in front of the few other patrons. I sat and read and drank a couple of the (at least good) pints and then left grumbling about how Scotland seems incapable of getting pubs right, despite the entire nation being well versed in the art of drinking beer, lager and other spirits. There seems a reluctance to create a good pub atmosphere (with some notable exceptions of course) in tourist places, maybe through fear of drunken riots. Given that 90% of their clientele are foreign or English, I fail to see how this fear has arisen.
Anyway, enough grumbling, I wandered back to the Fyfe Arms, found a table and had a couple of pints of Guiness in cheerful anonymity before turning in.
Inevitably the next morning was windy and grey. Despite missing a chunk of my original route out I was now back on track. My destination was Tomintoul and its YH. The route looked a good one - a climb out of Deeside on a big track, descend down to Glen Gairn, up to Loch builg, beside this on a single track and then down a long, long track descent to TT. I called into Braemar Mountain Sports for gas and got chatting to the staff about my route. They told me that from the top of the descent into Glen Callater on Jocks Road, a better option was to keep on the ridge to the path from Lochnagar. This then descends steeply, but rideably, direct to Callater Stables. So next time....
After a short ride along the A93 I turned into the woods at Invercauld. You climb up on a nice old forest track which then continues out of the woods, drops into another wide glen and then climbs again over a large moor.
Surprise, surprise, as I ground my way up the last of the climb, the cloud came in and the rain started. Visibility receded to less than 100m and the wind battered into my face. As I finally approached the start of the descent three figures appeared in front of me - three Yorkshire lads on bikes doing the Coast to coast. They talked of lots of rain and wind but at least it had all been behind them and they had been staying in hostels so were fairly lightly loaded. In view of the rain we went our separate ways. The descent was steep and fast and I bombed down it, not wishing to linger this high up. Confusingly the track petered out for the last few hundred metres before it re-started as a smooth estate track at a bridge over the river.
I climbed up out of Glen Gairn and onwards to Loch builg. The single track was clearly marked and after a dicey bit over a log bridge next to a fence, straightforward, if a bit boggy. Finally I rejoined a track, after dodging some monster puddles.
The bike was filthy but no matter, I had a nice big river to cross. I got across with damp socks but otherwise fine. Then it was a long long descent (well apart form a couple of climbs) down Glen Builg before the mighty Avon joined the Builg, roaring with all the water it drains from the Cairngorms. Beyond a big estate building the track becomes super smooth and I made reasonable progress despite the headwind and rain. Suddenly it became tarmac and this took me out past a farm with an automatic gate - how posh is that! I passed a couple of girls on bikes faffing with gears and stopped to chat. They too were doing the coast to coast and advised that the Tomintoul YHA didn't open until 5. Given that I would get there at 3 this seemed a long time to wait.
I rolled into the village and headed for the cafe I'd used when passing through on my road ride last month. I couldn't be bothered hanging around so texted my pals in Aviemore and warned them I was incoming! Rob had suggested the next bit of the route and given me some helpful hints. You head out of TT down the main road and across the River Avon. Just up from this you turn left and follow a track through forestry and out onto a moor. Despite the rain it was all pretty good, and easy to follow. It descends steeply down to a flat bottomed glen containing the River Brown. Rob had warned me the track was long gone but indicated the best route through which I hit first time and followed easily. You pop out of this where the valley narrows and a good track is rejoined.
Dunno what this is all about, I left it there though!
A steep climb takes you out of Glen Brown and over to Dorback Lodge. I seemed to have a bit of a tailwind for this last bit so it looked like the wind had swung around to the north east. After a bit of road riding I turned off on a trail also advised by Rob. This descends down to another river through which I just plodged, knowing I had drying facilities ahead and then a long climb up through a narrow defile between Carn na Loinne and Eag Mohr, locally known as the egg path.
More great riding, despite the rain....
A few more miles of single track and then you cross another burn which was also on the rise. Finally I was back on a good double track. You can take a shortcut to the Ryvoan pass via a ford over the River Nethy but I figured this would be a no go given the rain. Instead you go round a bit further via a lodge, then its a steady climb up through the woods. You eventually come out on a rougher path to Ryvoan Bothy. Finally the rain was easing off and I now had a long descent to Aviemore. I arrived at my pals place at 7, some 8 hours and 52 miles after the start.
Despite being a day early I felt I'd done enough. My plan had been to get the train back but another mate, Alex, was heading up Saturday morning to do some day rides. This meant I would get a lift home so I spent Friday wandering round Aviemore and relaxing. Saturday was a bit of a further disappointment weatherwise. Hints of a nice day were ill founded and our ride round the local woods was, once again, punctuated by heavy rain showers. Saturday evening involved a cheery evening of food and beer at the Ski and Doo restaurant but Sunday looked wet, wet, wet. So after a late breakfast we headed back down the road.
Despite not doing everything I'd originally planned, the trip was pretty successful given the horrible weather. I'd learned a lot about carrying camping kit on the bike and felt I needed to have more on the bike but less overall. Total distance covered was only around 180 miles but given the terrain I was pretty pleased with this. In particular, the repeated monster climbs were something new for me day after day. That said I dealt with them reasonably OK.... Now then, what next?
