Firstly, I accidentally posted a draft copy of this a few days ago. I thought I'd deleted it so once I've posted this I'll probably go in and delete that first one.
Sorry for any confusion.



Ever since my walk into Glen Tilt earlier this year I've been looking at various routes that would allow me to continue out the northern end of the glen and beyond.

Day one:
This was my preferred option and so with the promise of some nice weather for the end of July I found myself staggering off a train in Blair Atholl at just before nine o'clock in the morning all bleary eyed and raring to go.
I had shed 3 kilogrammes from my pack weight since walking The Minigaig in May so this was going to be a doddle…

Part of this weight loss was down to a new sleeping bag and tent and although I had spent a night in them in the Kilpatricks this was going to be a sterner test.
The west bank of the River Tilt still has the short detour due to the path closure at NN 87447 66044 but the grotto beside the river can still be reached by following the detour and then walking briefly south after the riverside path is rejoined.



I fair flew up the glen, at least relatively speaking. I'm no speed merchant but I was making good time.
The weather was nice, a little cloudy but pleasantly warm. A touch of wind was keeping the wee beasties away.
I crossed from the west side of the river to the east side on the Cumhann-leum Bridge due to long distance shooting at the Atholl Rifle Range on the west bank.

I had picked out a total of four possible camping sites for the first night, I reached my first one before two o'clock in the afternoon so I just had something to eat and got going again.



I reached my next one (Bedford Bridge at The Falls of Tarf) at half past three. Again, too early and not only that but there were at least five tents on the opposite bank with another two people behind me due to arrive shortly. Too busy for me.
I had some more food and refilled my water bottles, whilst doing this the few spits of rain started to develop so before I left I threw on all my waterproofs.
Obviously, as any outdoor enthusiast in Scotland knows, that was all that was needed to stop the rain and bring the sun out (but not until I'd built up some momentum)!
So, after stripping off again I continued on.
This was my first time north of Bedford Bridge and it didn't disappoint.
The path ran beside the river, sometimes down low in the ravine, sometimes a little higher up but fairly good progress was maintained.
There were multiple spots to camp but I was fixated on my third option.





I soon walked out the end of the glen and my goodness, the views did not disappoint. I'd seen photos and videos of how the glen opened up into a large plane with the high mountains in the background but they really don't do it justice.





I stood for a while watching a herd of deer but they soon scarpered. I guess it was because of me, I didn't realise they were so skittish, I must have been at least half a kilometer away.







Onwards I plodded towards my third camping spot (and if I'm honest my preferred one) at the ruins of Bynack Lodge.
It was seventeen miles from Blair Atholl train station and my feet really do struggle with anything over twelve so I was happy when I rolled up at half past six to discover that I had the place to myself. Apart from the sheep. And they clearly got fed up with the grumpy huffing and hawing at the newish tent because when I looked up I was alone.





I got settled in and got comfy, it really was a nice spot. Sat outside sipping a hot chocolate I felt lucky to have not been bothered by midges so far.
Of course, whoever was on wind duty upstairs that fine evening decided that that simply wouldn't do.
They waited until I was around 200m away from the safety of my tent without my midge hat whilst … well, all I'll say is that I was armed with, amongst other things, my trowel.
They must have been chuckling when they dialled the wind down to the hee-haw setting and watched me start the head and face clapping dance then proceed to vault the low dry stone wall and sprint for the wee bright green tent. Seventeen miles be damned, my feet forgot all about the pain, think Chariots of Fire crossed with “Run Forrest! Run!”
Anyway, I turned in at around eleven o’clock that night only to discover that at least fifty of the wee sneaks were sharing my tent with me, strangely they seemed to be quite content sitting on the inner wall near my feet and so, seemingly, with a truce in effect I fell asleep.




Day two:
I woke to glorious sunshine, after breakfast I was soon on my way.







There were three fords between me and White Bridge that I needed to negotiate, I could tell from the map that they had the potential to be … fun.
Thankfully they were really quite low, they do look like they might be interesting when in (or near) spate.







I passed Red House Bothy in the distance (my fourth pick for a camping spot that first night). I was glad I hadn't bothered, there were at least two tents outside indicating to me it was probably busy inside too.



I reached White Bridge just before ten o'clock in the morning where I stopped for a snack and to refill my water bottles. I discovered (as I suspected I might) that I had a signal so I checked in with friends.



Just after the northern end of White Bridge I turned left to follow the River Dee upstream on its eastern bank, soon passing the Chest of Dee waterfalls.







I was making slower progress today, the path in Glen Dee was a little slower and my feet were telling me all about the previous day's exertions.



At just before midday I found a lovely wee “beach” to soak my feet and have a snack but unfortunately it was soon time to move on.



I stopped at one o'clock in the afternoon for lunch knowing full well that my average speed wasn't great but I was determined to stop regularly to eat, something I felt I didn't do enough when I walked The Minigaig.
It wasn't long before I started to be hemmed in by the mountains on both sides, that perhaps sounds a bit foreboding but it really wasn't, it was glorious. At least it was at that point but I'll get to that.





I reached Corrour Bothy at three o'clock in the afternoon.
I realise now that this is where I should have stopped for the day. Seventeen miles yesterday and eight miles today, a nice short day. I could do the final fourteen miles tomorrow.
But no, I decided to press on. I wanted into the Rothiemurchus forest to find a camping spot.
So press on I did, walking past multiple potential camping spots.





It wasn't too long until the wheels started to fall off a bit.
I met two guys coming the other way heading for an overnight at the bothy and after a brief chat they told me I was at least six hours away from Coylumbridge. I told them I would find a spot higher up (that had been an idea anyway) but something about the way they'd put it had me a bit concerned. Don't get me wrong they were perfectly amicable, but I began to worry that my plans might be about to fall apart. Why was it six hours?





I soon came across another guy filling up bottles at a ford, after a brief discussion about filtering (beats football) he told me I had a boulder field to negotiate.
He was heading the same way as me and I can't shake the gut feeling that I should have asked if he wanted to walk down together. I can't say why but I felt afterwards that I should have.
So if you're reading this, sorry. I was so set on getting down that I developed tunnel vision, I hope you got down ok or found a suitable spot to camp higher up.

It should be noted that at this point I realised that there was a big hole in my planning.
Plenty of people had told me about the boulder field but I just compartmentalised that into the “it's ok they're talking about The Chalamain Gap” box. I hadn't actually read the Walkhighlands description for this part of the walk.
The OS maps suggested to me that any boulders would be easily avoided.
That last guy I chatted too was spot on though, it stretched on for about two kilometers.
Whoops.

So I trudged on, gaining height and started to negotiate the boulder field.



It was around six o'clock in the evening at this point so the Lairig Ghru was in shadow and the wind was (as I suspected it might) coming through the gap at about 20mph.
This put me into my customary “why am I here” mode. Made worse by my realisation that this was my fault, I could be relaxing back at the bothy just now, chomping away at an Orzo Pasta Bolognese and sipping on a nice cup of coffee. I started slavering at the thought of that Peperami pizza bun that I had for tonight's starter. Yes, things were THAT bad!
And that's when it happened, whilst shifting my weight forward my right trekking pole slipped and down I went like a sack o’ spuds. Head first. Probably quite spectacular to watch, not so great as the recipient.
Thankfully I must have turned my head slightly because the standing rock with the edge caught my temple at an angle, not head on.
Even then I expected my hand to come away covered in blood.
Nope, just a graze.
A bit of maniacal laughter followed by a bit of swearing soon gave way to a stern “you still need to get out of Dodge pal, get going” and so off I went. Albeit a bit slower.











Then I was out in the open and the wind died and my head and feet were quickly put aside as I got systematically dive bombed by midges for the next kilometer (or more, who knows, who cares, I didn't).
An hour before sunset, plagued by midges, walking into Rothiemurchus forest with a sore head and sore feet I began to ponder the existence of life the universe and where the hell I was going to camp.
I couldn't see me reaching one of my options near the Cairngorm Club Footbridge before eleven o'clock.





Strangely, I mostly left the midges behind once I entered the forest "why? What next? Bigfoot?" Thankfully around ten o'clock I found a spot just off the path to pitch for the night, not ideal but I'd be gone before anyone came along. Or so I thought until I heard someone running down the path at a quarter to midnight. Perhaps it was the walker I'd seen earlier trying to escape the midges. Perhaps it was Bigfoot, "curious, it sounded like they were wearing trainers, who the hell makes trainers that size?"
“It takes all sorts I guess” as I drifted off to sleep.
I was so tired from my fourteen hour day that I hadn't eaten, probably another mistake. Add that to the list


Day three:
I was away at nine o'clock next morning and the walk down into Aviemore was nice enough, Rothiemurchus really is a lovely place but my mind was elsewhere as I forced myself to keep a pace that would allow me to catch the eleven o'clock train home..
The steak and gravy pie and the coffee in Aviemore was greatly appreciated.


The aftermath:
All told a good time was had (isn't it amazing how quickly the rose tinted glasses come out)
The first day was excellent as was the start of the second day.
The latter part of that second day was affected by a mixture of poor planning and a poor decision on the day.
To compound it all, a few hours after I got home I came down with a nasty twenty four hour bug type thing, no idea what caused that but I'm still tired a week later.
I also had to return my camping rucksack due to a problem and it might be up to four weeks before I get it back or a replacement.
It's almost like someone's trying to tell me something.
They've probably got a point … well what can I say, sometimes having the memory of a goldfish has it's advantages … where will my next trip be?
I realise that I need to be more mindful of my feet. I CAN walk two consecutive days of seventeen miles, I can probably push that to more days but my feet will suffer for it. They do recover quickly but if I'm to wild camp the West Highland Way then I think I'll need to incorporate a few shorter days and a few nights at proper campsites to utilise a baggage transfer service.
The new tent did ok, I'm on a budget and I wanted a lighter alternative to my Naturehike Cloud Up 2 and I opted for the Lanshan 2.
I do find it a bit of a faff to put up but I was surprised how easy I found it in the dark after that long second day. It's amazing what can be achieved when my mind is fixated on one thing
One of its biggest cons is that it's not freestanding, I had to walk past multiple spots that second day where, I think my Naturehike would have fitted.
I'm warming to it though. For it's price it's not a bad tent, especially after some modifications.
The sleeping bag was excellent, it was actually too warm, leaving me clammy and cold at points (if that makes sense).
Would I do this route again?
Absolutely but next time I'll make it a full three day trip not two and a half.
I think I'd utilise Corrour Bothy next time.