the gaick pass by bike

auld gits by edendon water

November 2008 and a group of 'auld gits' is meeting in Blair Athol. It is about 7.30 am and the gathering is upon us. There are eight auld gits on that cold November morning in Blair. After warm greetings and some nervous packing and repacking of panniers we are ready for the off on the first part of our weekend cycling odyssey to Ruigh-aiteachain in Glen Feshie, via the old military road, the Gaick Pass. We set off in dribs and drabs, no peleton for us. Our first ten miles or so takes us along the old A9 road from Blair Athol, past Bruar and Calvine to Dalnacardoch where we leave tarmac and follow the old wagon tracks that lead due north into the mountains and the Gaick. Just north of Calvine we encounter a large red deer stag on the side of the road. He has his head down in vegetation and is oblivious to our approach. We get within a few feet of him before he becomes aware of us and crashes into the trees and undergrowth. He probably git a whiff of Dave.

Dalnacardoch shooting lodge was built in 1715 to serve the General Wade Military Road, the Gaick.

The Gaick is a hill pass that connects Badenoch and Strathspey in the North with the lands of Atholl in the South. I understand that Gaick is Gaelic for cleft and the pass is a glacial valley with very steep sides and a wide flat-bottomed floor. A bird's eye view will see the line of the main A9 road between Dalnacardoch and Kingussie tracing the shape of a bow with the Gaick making the string of that bow.

badnambiast cottage on the gaick

At the point we leave the old A9 road and cross the new dual carriageway to enter the Gaick track there is a high fence and gate. The gate is locked this fine day so we have to remove the panniers and lift everything over the gate before reassembling and getting on our way. It is good that we have already got our second wind, having already cycled ten miles, because the next mile is steepish and uphill. At the top of the incline we emerge from the forest onto open hillside and see our track winding away to the north. It is going to be a good day. We are soon scudding along a good track. We pass a large cairn on our left. To this day we have no idea it's purpose, other than just being a cairn. Then we pass a lonely uninhabited cottage, Badnambiast. Again on our left and sitting high above the Edendon Water. Edendon Water emerges from the Cama' Choire, a spectacular steep sided choire, complete with waterfalls, that cuts into the eastern flank of the Drumochter hills between the Munros of A'Bhuidheanach Bheag and Carn na Caim.

gaick from an dun looking south over sronphadruig lodge

Then we are clustered again at Sronphadruig Lodge as we dismount and push and drag our bikes across half a kilometre or so of seriously mucky peat hag. Our bikes are soon covered in glaur, as are we. If you have never tried dragging bikes, laden down with bulging panniers, in and out of acres of peat hag, you are not missing anything. Honest. After what seems an age we are on the narrow path that runs along the west side of Loch an Duin, on the steep flank of An Dun. One or two of the more daring of our group cycled bits of it. Most of us had a hard enough time stopping ourselves falling from the steep path into the bloody loch. To make it more interesting, there was a fierce gale howling through the pass, strong enough to spray loch water on us and strong enough to blow one of our group's cycle goggles from his head, never to be found. There was also patches of hard snow on the track. Despite that it was exhilarating and despite our moans we were soon at the north end of the loch, at the outflow. There followed a tricky moment or two as we carefully teetered our way across on not very obvious, or stable, boulders. We then cooried doon in the lee of the bank to have a well earned food stop.

Then we were off again and back on cart track, or to be modern, land rover track. The next few kilometres were downhill and reasonable cycling, if a little rough in some sections. Ahead of us lay Loch Bhrodainn and then our biggest challenge, the crossing of Allt Gharbh Ghaig. The Gharbh Ghaig emerges from the huge plateau to the west of the Tilt and can range from a fearsome, uncrossable torrent to a widish easy running stream. If the former, then we are headed back to Blair Athol. It was behaving itself today and with only the risk of wet feet we safely emerged beyond it. One of our group managed to cycle right through it. Bully for him.

An ancient tale about this area tells of a stranger gifting his dog Brodan, to a hunter. The hunter soon realised that the dog was a magical beast. It was the hunter's great ambition to hunt the white fairy deer of Ben Alder and with Brodan he did so. An epic chase ensued in which Brodan, with the magical deer in it's jaws, disappeared into a loch in the Gaick. That loch from that moment to carry the dog's name for eternity, Bhrodainn.

gaick from loch an duin north to loch bhrodainn

Another tale of this area, not so magical, concerns avalanches and over the years many have been witnessed and recorded in this part of the steep sided, narrow Gaick. Most dramatic being on new year's eve 1800 when Gaick Lodge, as it stood then, was overwhelmed by a huge avalanche. Unfortunately there were people in residence and after some time the remains of five men and their dogs, who had been sleeping in the bothy, were recovered.

No avalanches for us, although it is uncommonly cold. The track past Gaick Lodge and then Loch an t-Seilich is good quality and obviously used regularly by vehicles visiting the lodge. At the north end of the loch, near Poll Dubh one encounters a water board station and the track changes to a tarred road. The hard part of The Gaick is over for us and we simply cycle the last few miles to Tromie Bridge and Drumguish where we swing right and into a forest track as we head into Glen Feshie. We still have eight or nine kilometres left before we reach Ruigh-aiteachain but none of it is too onerous, apart from one stretch on wet grass where a couple of us without knobbly tyres slip and slide a bit. Then we are at our destination.

For those with no experience of bothy living what follows is interesting. There are already some people ensconced in front of a roaring fire, so protocol means you try not to disturb them too much. We spread ourselves in the fireless room and set to work getting our cookers going and preparing our respective meals. Understand, a bothy tends not to be well equipped with chairs and tables. So with space at a premium, the 'dancing' and waltzing about so as not to get in each other's way is amusing and would be worth a study for behavioural psychologists. Despite that we are soon feed and watered. Alcohol is calling. So we make our way into the other room, the only other room in the bothy, the one with the lit fire and with people already clustered around it and in deep conversation. It does not take long for our larger numbers to take over and soon we are singing, telling tall tales and laughing, even although we hear them every time we gather. Oh, we also partake of the alcohol. It is not about the alcohol, it is about reducing the weight of the pannier.

Then back to the cold room where we spread our sleeping bags on the freezing concrete floor and get snuggled in. We are a tired bunch.

Getting out of the bothy in the pitch dark to answer calls of nature are for another study and best forgotten.

our guardian angel watched over us the whole trip

We, each and every one of us, combined age some 500 and more years, thoroughly enjoyed our trip through the Gaick and would recommend it to anyone.

Wait till I tell you how we got home. But that's another day.