Walking into a Winter Dream
'I thought it was going to be more snowy up here' were the final words before we hit a flurry of white snowflakes and blankets of the stuff. Recently I completed my first multi day hike to a bothy, in the middle of a Scottish winter only to find that my dreamt up cosy winter scene was actually a real living place.
Hiking long distances still feels relatively new to me. I've just never found the right shoes that fit so I've never been that keen on walking long miles. However since meeting my partner and living in Scotland I've been encouraged to branch out and swap the bike for a pair of boots (fortunately I took some time to find a pair that seem to fit OK) and have a go at walking a bit further.
For this trip we're keen to try out a Scotland bothy. We scope one out which is about 8 miles from a train station but still relatively remote and not accessible by car. That way we're in for a chance of getting a space so we run the risk of not carrying a backup bed, a tent.
Despite not carrying a tent we're still carrying thick sleeping bags, a roll mat, extra layers, waterproofs, a stove, all of our water plus our lunch, dinner and breakfast. We arrive at Blair Atholl station and I already feel unstable on my feet as we head into the woods towards the mountains. One item I haven't mentioned yet but are quite vital to the trip is a pair of walking poles. As well as conveniently matching the colour of my rucksack these poles come in super handy on the trip; helping me to not topple over, measuring depths of puddles and later on…cracking snow and ice.
The route itself is relatively straight forward, following a muddy track up past Blair Castle, through the woods and out onto the open moors. This route is part of the The Minigaig Road, an ancient drove road for early trade routes from Blair Atholl up to Kingussie. The road ‘gains high elevation and can become quite impassible during winter’, so I read, after this trip.
After a couple of hours walking north we start to gain height, noticing small patches of snow here and there. We pass a corner and the patches become larger and start to join up. Our foot prints get deeper and the air colder. Fortunately we are nearing our destination. As we round the final bend, we walk downhill into a sheltered valley and out appears a small roofed shelter with a chimney, a wooden door and a window, our home for the night.
As we set down our rucksacks on the bench outside I walk around the building, it feels familiar. I take a few paces back and realise, it's the bothy I had imagined and sketched up for a Christmas card a few months ago. Now here I was, standing in front of this imagined place which now is very real. It’s freezing, I better get in and help get dinner on.
Warmed up with stuffed pasta, hot chocolates and, as tradition a wee dram we wrap ourselves up in all our clothes and watch the cinders slowly burn out.
Waking up to see my breath in the cool air, the hills outside shine in, the white frost shimmering in the sunshine. This is going to be an interesting day. After a bowl of hot porridge and some tea we pack up, sweep the floor and say goodbye to our little home as we begin to scale the path leading north from the bothy. The first challenge, a river crossing.
The path seemed to just vanish as it reached the water, no obvious stones or ledges then it appeared again at the other side. My partner skips over, with his shiny crampons and all. I, however, already feeling quite top heavy with the rucksack decided to continue walking along the river edge to find an alternative crossing route. Here? no, There? no, oh, this is taking forever. After a couple of attempts I decide that I’d feel more stable and less concerned of getting my shoes and socks wet if I remove them altogether. The cold icy water bites my pink toes as I grip onto the shiny rocks and, using my poles for stability, paddle safely over to the other side and climb up onto the river bank. Walking barefoot in snow, now that's a first.
After the river crossing we gather momentum again to warm up and continue along the drove road up the hill. As the white vast views get more stunning the snow gets deeper underneath our feet and the pace slows. We periodically stop for pick n mix, cheese, pork pies and hot tea as we continue to gain height, the sun dancing off the snow.
We don't see another person for the entire day, though knowing they do exist as we follow their footprints for the last couple of miles, thankful to save our energy by not breaking into the snow for each step.
As we start to warm up, we begin to throw off layers and the snow gets patchy again and very soon it feels as if the winter wonderland never existed. We make it back through the forest and down the hill, our knees and legs feeling achy and wobbly. Another two hours until the train arrives so we collapse into the nearby pub for soup and a congratulatory beer, or two whilst warming up next to the fire.
Least to say I was not expecting snow let alone to discover such a place I thought I had made up. A wee winter adventure indeed.