Looking for Wade again

Anyone who has spoken to me about my wanderings round Scotland, or has read this blog for a while, will know of my fascination with old routes. There's something about the history of them and the decisions that were involved in their creation and direction that catches my imagination. Amongst the most evocative are the old "military" roads mostly ascribed to General George Wade, but often created by his successor, William Caulfield. Many of these old roads still follow the most "logical" way of traversing the countryside and so remain an excellent resource for those of us on foot or cycling and who wish to avoid the modern highways. 

I've recently been looking for  a good off-road route from the Cairngorms into Inverness and it was inevitable that the old Wade road would come into my sights. I'd also been asked by Scotways to report back on the current condition of the road north of Moy so I had an ideal incentive to undertake a bit of surveying. 

I've previously written about the section of road from Aviemore to Tomatin here. In essence, it all works really well as a walking or cycle route until the downhill section into Tomatin. Here, the old road is completely overgrown and moss-filled requiring a short detour over the adjoining fields.

From Tomatin, the old road has been almost completely overlaid by the railway and the various alignments of the A9 until the small village of Moy is reached. From here, the start of the route is handily signposted and goes to Lynebeg and Lynemore via a crossing of the A9. 

Local news beside the Right of Way signs

There is an official crossing point, but take great care

After a short distance on a good track, the Wade road can be seen heading off to the right. It's little more than a depression in the ground in some places and where there is an embankment on both sides the inability of water to drain away has resulted in some significant standing bogs - mostly quite shallow though. 
 

Take the right-hand track at Lynemore (NH762339)

The line of the road is obvious (even when waterlogged) and can be seen on the hill beyond

When the forest becomes more visible the gate ahead allows access into a narrow clearing. Just before this meets another good forest road, it's necessary to cross a wee burn. There are no obvious signs of a bridge here so there's a chance that the burn has swollen beyond its previous flow as a result of the surrounding forest. 

The gate is fairly obvious as is the clearing behind

No sign of an ancient bridge here where the clearing ends and joins the new track (NH748343)

The new track now hides the original surface from use but it's a good route, high enough up the hillside to give some airy, open views. 

Staying right parallels the modern A9

A cairn to mark the Rout of Moy (at NH 730347)

Around midnight on 16th/17th February 1746, Lord Loudon, the Commander of the Hanoverian forces in the north, mustered 1500 troops from the Inverness Garrison and set off on the twelve mile march south along General Wade’s Road to Moy in a bid to capture Prince Charles Edward Stuart. The prince, a guest of Lady Anne Mackintosh (Colonel Anne) at Moy Hall, had arrived with a small guard of 50 men, some distance ahead of his retreating Highland Army.

Pitch darkness interspersed with flashing lightning slowed and unsettled the marching men.

Watching the road here, 3 miles from Moy Hall, was an ‘outer guard’ of just five Jacobites led by Donald Fraser, the Moy Blacksmith. He had chosen a spot where he could observe movement on the skyline to the north in darkness, and where he had cover to the south in daylight. Nearby to the east, peat stacks remained out on the moor. Here he planned to harass, and perhaps deceive, the enemy.

As the Hanoverian Column, spearheaded by the Laird of MacLeod and his men approached in the darkness, they were surprised by sudden musket fire and loud war cries urging clansmen to battle. Even the peat stacks threatened in the flashing lightning. Convinced that the whole Highland Army was at hand, Loudon’s men turned in panic and fled back to Inverness, somehow carrying off the body of Donald Ban MacCrimmon, Piper to MacLead and the only fatality of the night. A premonition of his imminent death had been realised.

As the road goes downhill again it has to veer off the Wade route due firstly to the A9 and then due to some quarry workings. For the real Wadeophiles it is, however, worth making a short detour along the original route to see the old bridge over the Midlairgs Burn. 

Wade Road on the left, modern forest track to the right (NH721359)

Lovely old bridge over the Midlairgs Burn (NH716361)

Go much past this and you'll come up against the quarry gates with their rather prominent warnings of imminent death! 


Continuing on the re-aligned road it's not long before the farmhouse at Auchbain is passed then we pick up the Wade route outside the front entrance to the quarry. 

Pretty clear

Original alignment straight on, revision to the left. There's a RoW sign hidden in this photo.....

There's a short section of tarmac, before a right turn onto the B851 road to Farr and then an immediate left to the bridge at Faillie. This is a typical, steep bridge and the road surface at the summit is well marked by the passage of low vehicles. 

Faillie Bridge. Not recommended for sports cars

From here, the route gets a little difficult to find, mostly because of the recent housing developments. Eventually, I spotted a sign hidden in the bushes where the current road seems to have been widened to accommodate a lorry turning. The problem now is that there is a huge embankment to climb up - difficult enough on foot and more so dragging a bike. 

That's the RoW going up the embankment on the left. I actually repositioned the sign after this photo.

This re-aligned section carries on to the back of a modern house then joins the original route uphill through a very overgrown section between a field and a fence. It's not hard to see why this has been left to the undergrowth as the gate at the top has been locked (not sure this is legal if it's a Right of Way), thereby restricting passage. 

It was just about possible to find the track through this vegetation. The locked gate doesn't help.

With the proliferation of shrubs and long grass, combined with the steep angle, this became a bit of a push rather than a ride. Beyond this gate the track is visible as a field boundary, carrying on in a straight line to the minor road through another gate (unlocked this time).

Crossing this road there's an obvious, signed march through the woods with dykes (mostly well overgrown now) lining the route. 

Entering Dundavie and Daviot Woods

The alignment is obvious the whole way as it's almost arrow straight and continues through Dundavie and Daviot Woods on a mostly good surface until the crest of the hill is reached and there's a change in the air as you start descending to the outskirts of Inverness. 

The outskirts of Inverness and the view North

And looking South

From the top of this restricted access lane, it's a fast descent down to "civilization" and the big city. 

At the junction of the Old Edinburgh Road and Stevenson Street

All in all, I'm pretty happy with the route. If anything, I think it works better going South where the one possible pushing section north of Faillie is therefore rideable. I can imagine that the last section of singletrack into Moy itself could be horrendously boggy at certain times of year but it's all typical Scottish mountainbiking. This links up pretty well with the section from Tomatin to Aviemore, providing an almost exclusively off-road route all the way to the Cairngorms and beyond to Kingussie and Newtonmore. 

As for my day out, I really enjoyed tracking down the old road. In places, the original alignment has been bypassed altogether and is sometimes easily missed (in fact I think I've subsequently spotted an "orphaned" section on the east side of the A9 south of Auchbain). A combination of map reading, aerial photography, on the ground assessment and, sometimes, downright wishful thinking, seems to bring the route alive and it's not too hard to imagine yourself in George Wades head, seeing the land as he saw it and trying to decide where his road should go. In places, it has survived remarkably well. In others, centuries of non-use have made it almost impenetrable. Either way, it still stands as a remarkable achievement. 

Other details and descriptions of this route can also be found on the Scotways Heritage Paths website, here

Torridon at last

There's no escaping the plaudits that Scotland gets for the quality of its Mountain Biking - both the organised trail centres and the "natural" routes that are available through Scotlands relaxed land access laws. Time and again they are internationally awarded and feature in many "must do" travel guides. High amongst the recommendations are the trails in and around Torridon. However I'm rather ashamed to admit that, despite walking many of them during my Munro bagging exploits,  I'd never ridden these trails. With a wee bit of determination to put this right I loaded the Blur into the van and headed off towards Torridon hoping for some great weather.

Well, I was a wee bit disappointed when I got there to find low cloud and a fine drizzle blocking the view of the summits but, leaving the van behind at the visitor centre, I set off into the headwind, uphill towards the start of the Coulin Pass. I knew this was the least hilly of the options but, having passed the Right of Way sign on many occasions, I was determined that this would be part of the outing. 

It's pronounced "cow-linn" (apparently)

The ride started well enough with a spin along an easy estate road and past the two lochs. The climb out at the end of the glen went in easily enough too and I was, by now, beginning to get used to the feel of the smaller wheels on the Blur, plus the rather unfamiliar feel of the frame bending in the middle. Over the col and there was a sign relating to forestry work and pointing out a diversion. I reckoned that there would be nothing going on, it being Sunday afternoon, and whizzed down the wide, fast forestry road to Achnashellach station and the most complex set of bicycle lanes to be witnessed in the highlands. 

Looking along Strathcarron

 Another scoot along some tarmac (aided by the wind this time) and I was at the start of the "big" bit.

Definitely "coo-lags"

I'd looked at my GPS before starting this bit and noticed that sunset was due in six hours (it's shown on the "home" screen). I recall thinking "great - no hurry" and then comparing this to the rather rushed and panic-stricken mode I'd been riding in for the last few months. Here was a chance to savour some great Scottish scenery without worrying about how fast or slow I was covering the ground. 

The track again starts easily enough but there are a few steep bits before the bothy and more than enough water bars to interrupt the flow. I can be quite happy tackling these on the bike but it very much depends on where I am and who I'm with. Alone in Torridon aren't the best circumstances to suffer a major wheel problem or a stupid fall. 

The weather did pick up for me too.

Coulags bothy

After the bothy the track deteriorates into a boggy mess for a while but picks up again before the climb up to Loch Coire Fionnaraich - and the view to the path out of the corrie. 

The last of the riding for a while

That'll be the path to the col then

Across the top of the Bealach na Lice and the main fun is delayed for a while circumnavigating the edge of Loch an Eoin. Then, with a view north to tempt you, it's all downhill as fast as you dare. I thought I was doing fine, the full suspension of the Blur working hard, until I had one brief moment of indecision. With a large rock ahead, I had to opt to go left or right of it, chose neither, and hit it head on resulting in a comedy over-the-bars moment. That was enough to sober me up for a wee while but it's so much fun finding away down the various little drop offs and across the massive rock slabs that I was soon back up to full speed and having a real hoot.

Some of this stuff

Lots of this stuff

I can see the van from here!

Passing Carn Dhonnachadh I could see the settlement of Torridon far below me and I was expecting a really steep descent but the path contours further round to annat so the fun is extended quite a bit.

Finally, with a bit of a bump, I was deposited and Annat for a relaxing warm-down along the road to the van.

I also managed to fit in my May bivvy night after this ride. A drive out the long cul de sac from Gairloch to Red Point and then a short walk past the lovely beach to a little rocky headland had me in as lonely a spot as you're likely to find, with a view over the water to Rona and Skye and the Outer Hebrides just disappearing into the twilight, backlit by the setting sun. With nothing much to do but watch the birds and the waves, trying to work out if the tide was coming in or going out, it wasn't long before I had trouble keeping my eyes open and dropped off to one of the most relaxed sleeps I've ever had outdoors.

On the short walk in

Outer Hebrides

The tide was out....

Fellow campers

Rona and the Staffin peninsula from the bivvy spot

Back in the saddle

I guess that I should have expected some sort of psychological backlash after pulling out of the Highland Tail Race. The hours and miles I'd put in all suddenly seemed a bit worthless and, after a day out round Loch Katrine, the bikes had been hanging up in the garage, unused. Somehow, I just didn't have any enthusiasm to ride them for a day or two, a week, a fortnight...

Thankfully Ian, one of my occasional riding buddies, had been rounding folk up for a day round part of Perthshire and this had caught my eye for a couple of reasons; if there's such a thing as a "bucket list" of Scottish mountain-biking then the Atholl passes of the Minigaig and the Gaick are surely found in it. These old routes had caught my eye as a hillwalker and yet I've somehow never managed to cross them. I guess that the logistics of the long day between Blair Atholl and Kingussie, and then getting back to the start, never quite worked out for me. However, with a bicycle available, it suddenly looked feasible to do them both on the same day. 

The second reason is that I'd seen bit of both routes from the north end last year and I was keen to see how they both arrived in Glen Tromie. That would give me some possible long distance routes from home.

On the day, the weather wasn't that great looking - in fact, it was lashing it down as I passed Drumochter. However, it was at least holding off as Andrew, Ian and I geared up for the ride in Calvine. 

It's a bit of a sharp start after crossing the A9, but once some height is gained there's a fairly easy spin along Glen Bruar. The track is certainly a lot less rough than when I'd previously cycled here - all of 20 years ago on my way to climb Beinn Dearg. The other thing that had changed was that the river was almost dry - a result of a new hydro scheme perhaps. Certainly, the approach to Glen Bruar from Glen Banvie is now a lot easier. After passing the lodge, the track starts to get a little steeper and then it's the end of the glen with a steep rise up ahead. 

Where the walking starts

We'd already worked out that this was the time to get off and push and, though it rose steeply, it was reasonably easy going. As the plateau was reached, and the ground started to flatten out, it was off/on the bikes for a while until we eventually reached the summit and started the fun bit! 

On or off the bike - you choose

Finally, some downhill

Still plenty of snow up here too.

Sadly, that was to end all too soon as the track deteriorated into a muddy, squelchy quad track and then through wet bog and heather. Having made the mistake of choosing neither waterproof boots nor waterproof socks, my feet were now sodden. Still, it made fording the numerous rivers and streams easier as I just ploughed through rather than delicately selecting stepping stones. 

Once in Glen Tromie, I recognised part of the track I'd done last year from Glen Feshie. I knew that the percentage rideability was increasing, which was a wee boost. Descending down to the weir, I'd taken a slightly different line from Andrew and Ian and almost ran over an adder sunning him(her)self. Leaving the bike as a marker I called out to the guys to take a look but it was a bit shy and they only managed to catch a glimpse of its tail as it slunk into a wee hole under some heather. 

Another river crossing saw us onto a decent track for a while and then it was up along the Gaick. This is a much lower, faster, easier route than the Minigaig (it was once considered as an option for the main road north rather than Drumochter) so we made pretty good time despite the headwind. 

Looking back through the Gaick

Another river forded and we were at Loch an Duin. Here, again, there was some on/off bike action, especially given legs were beginning to tire. Still, it was all downhill from here (Andrew would disagree) and the weather was as good as we'd had all day, so it made for a pleasant end to a grand day out in the hills.

I was really pleased to be able to tick off two routes I'd long want to do and it was great to get a bit of a leg-stretch again after my withdrawal from the HTR. A massive thanks has to go to Ian for arranging it and giving me sufficient incentive. 



(and thanks to both Ian and Andrew for the use of their photos)