Un-chained Melody- Aonach Beag Ridge Walk/ Cycle/ Stagger
Posted: Tue Jul 01, 2014 12:35 pmTaking a bike onto the hills adds another dimension to a day trip. It can transform a mundane walk out from a seemingly endless drudge into an effortless cruise, the miles melt away as you slip through the gears and freewheel the downhill sections. It's a time and energy saver which means you can go further and faster, lending extra layers of options to day trip destinations. Well that's the theory. If you don't pack your tools with you, and if your chain snaps before you've even sighted Culra Bothy, you'll finish your day semi-delirious from the sun that blasted you and the midges that nibbled you whilst you pushed, pulled and one-leggedly paddled your bike back,blistered, partially hunch-backed and fantasizing about foot spas. That's if you make it back to your car at all...
The track from Dalwhinnie is ideal for cycling: a flat, well-maintained and a pleasant cruise along the banks of Loch Ericht, it took us approximately one hour to pass the gates of £20 million Ben Alder Lodge and head up onto open hillside and the banks of Loch Pattack. Our previous night's accommodation had been the"quaint" Happy Haggis in Kingussie where you check in at the fish and chip counter. I wonder if the reception desk at the lodge had salt and vinegar and a jar of gherkins on it.
We opted to take the slightly longer path along the bonnie banks of the loch where a few wild campers were enjoying the priceless views.
Carrying a mountain bike added a bit of interest to crossing the shoogly bridge but we were making great time until disaster struck with the snap of my bike chain.
Since first taking a bike into the hills a year ago I've had a bit of a cavalier attitude towards carrying spare stuff like I should have done. Everything had gone so smoothly on trips to Torridon, the Cairngorms, Loch Lochy and more that maybe I had managed to trick myself into believing that it would always be thus. What a dafty. The difference between a bike and a car breaking down is that a car tends to give you some prior warning that all is not well: lights pop on on the dashboard, the engine makes weird noises, smoke appears from odd places... With a bike, it's much more sudden and catastrophic- one minute I was mobile, the next I was kaput (to put it politely).
Determined to make the most of our day, we pressed on to the bothy (which was more downhill than up) and paused to drink in the surroundings before heading onto the hills. It had taken one hour and 40 minutes from the level crossing to the bothy door which was decent, considering the mechanical mishap. Eating a pre-hill sandwich I admired a fellow walker's gleaming Mongoose MTB, glinting in the sunlight, little toolbag nestled beneath the saddle.Next time I would be better prepared I thought, already contemplating what the journey back would be like, compared to what it should have been like.
The four hills themselves made for a great day out. A straightforward and fairly direct pull up the slopes from the bothy took us onto the summit of Carn Dearg an hour and fifteen minutes after dumping the bikes. The hillside was covered in various plants in differing stages of bloom, cloud berry and dwarf cornel both particularly pretty amongst the cotton grass. (thanks to IreneM for IDing my photos on another forum)
In the foreground the views of Ben Alder drew the eye and further away the Ben and company lurked darkly out to the west.
Giant snow sugar cubes hovered in a waterfall in the cliffs above Loch Sgoir as we ascended the ridgy Aisre Ghobhainn and popped onto the massive grassy plateau of Gael Charn. A tremendous feeling of empty space was soaked up as we strolled to the summit cairn, a further one km away.
A dozy dotterel stood in a summery dwam facing Creag Meagaidh-wards as we headed on along the ridge to Aonach Beag and then Beinn Eibhinn, its near neighbour.
The last two munros were covered in quick succession and then all that was left was to descend over grassy terrain to the Allt Coire a'Laobhair and over the stream to the stalkers path.
As we descended, Loch Ossian sparkled to the south-west and it seemed like all the slopes were blossoming in their summer finery.
Knowing that my steed back at the bothy was effectively lame, I jogged the 5km path back, worried about how long it would take to "cycle" back to Dalwhinnie. The path was a pleasure, skirting the stream in the shadows of the mighty Ben Alder to the right and Lancet Edge inviting you back again to the left.
The journey back to Dalwhinnie took just under two and a half hours although it felt more like two days.
Any rough, or remotely uphill section involved pushing the bike, I tried to cycle on the flat sections in a similar way to Fred Flintstone's approach to driving (left foot on the pedal, right foot slapping the ground) and I eked every mm out of anything remotely downhill for some freewheeling. Thanks to Leonide for taking pity on me and letting me have a shot of her wheels for some of the way out. I may have given up and bedded down halfway along the beach if she hadn't.
Next day, I freewheeled down to my local cycle shop and ordered a new chain, a service and some special puncture-proof slime for my tyres. The owner didn't stock anything to soothe my blisters.
The track from Dalwhinnie is ideal for cycling: a flat, well-maintained and a pleasant cruise along the banks of Loch Ericht, it took us approximately one hour to pass the gates of £20 million Ben Alder Lodge and head up onto open hillside and the banks of Loch Pattack. Our previous night's accommodation had been the"quaint" Happy Haggis in Kingussie where you check in at the fish and chip counter. I wonder if the reception desk at the lodge had salt and vinegar and a jar of gherkins on it.
We opted to take the slightly longer path along the bonnie banks of the loch where a few wild campers were enjoying the priceless views.
Determined to make the most of our day, we pressed on to the bothy (which was more downhill than up) and paused to drink in the surroundings before heading onto the hills. It had taken one hour and 40 minutes from the level crossing to the bothy door which was decent, considering the mechanical mishap. Eating a pre-hill sandwich I admired a fellow walker's gleaming Mongoose MTB, glinting in the sunlight, little toolbag nestled beneath the saddle.Next time I would be better prepared I thought, already contemplating what the journey back would be like, compared to what it should have been like.
The four hills themselves made for a great day out. A straightforward and fairly direct pull up the slopes from the bothy took us onto the summit of Carn Dearg an hour and fifteen minutes after dumping the bikes. The hillside was covered in various plants in differing stages of bloom, cloud berry and dwarf cornel both particularly pretty amongst the cotton grass. (thanks to IreneM for IDing my photos on another forum)
- Ben Alder tempting us back for another visit
- towards Gael Charn
Giant snow sugar cubes hovered in a waterfall in the cliffs above Loch Sgoir as we ascended the ridgy Aisre Ghobhainn and popped onto the massive grassy plateau of Gael Charn. A tremendous feeling of empty space was soaked up as we strolled to the summit cairn, a further one km away.
Knowing that my steed back at the bothy was effectively lame, I jogged the 5km path back, worried about how long it would take to "cycle" back to Dalwhinnie. The path was a pleasure, skirting the stream in the shadows of the mighty Ben Alder to the right and Lancet Edge inviting you back again to the left.
The journey back to Dalwhinnie took just under two and a half hours although it felt more like two days.
- the looong and winding road
Next day, I freewheeled down to my local cycle shop and ordered a new chain, a service and some special puncture-proof slime for my tyres. The owner didn't stock anything to soothe my blisters.
I must return now.