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Relay Magazine April 1991

What plans there were, were made months before but were delayed because of foul weather, laziness and the inability to get the right nutters together. The plan being to run from Braemar to Blair Atholl through Glen Tilt and another team to do the reverse, again through Glen Tilt and then return to Newburgh in each others cars. Therefore, early in November the teams assembled and for once, everyone was on time, Long John was not 'Cumming'. Wee Bob, now departed for lesser hills, Wee Stevie, now departed to a better club - they were to run from south to north where Cation, Low and Ross were on their way to Braemar to run south (all downhill).

We reached the Lin of Dee around 8.30 a.m. then sat and had a cup of coffee watching the marauding red deer rummage around in their hundreds looking for food. They must have been chased off the high tops by the weather and close to starvation, they certainly had lost the fear of us.

It was now time to go and we soon found out just how cold it was. Running and wrapped up in four layers of clothes and with two pairs of gloves, it was still freezing. Before long rime was forming on gloves, balaclavas and in my case a coating of ice soon formed on my hairy top lip. Aye, this was real brass monkey weather and Cation's voice was getting higher pitched every hundred yards we ran (poor Davina! ). The Land-Rover track was easy running and we soon reached White Bridge where we crossed the Dee to turn from a westerly to a more southerly direction. The heat was now circulating and Frank's voice was coming back to normal. We were now warm enough to cross the Geldie Burn, which was almost frozen from side to side.

It was now time to investigate the ruin of Bymack Lodge. Its hard to believe that families stayed away out here at one time, journeying in now and again to Braemar for provisions. They probably used a horse and cart nut. Times must have been really bad in winter.

We had now run out of Land-Rover track and it was more interesting running on the narrow hill track parallel with the Altt-an-Seilich, a little hill burn which eventually runs back into the River Dee. After about an hour and a half the track ran through a gorge where the south running Alt Carbh Buidhe gurgled as it made its way to the Falls of Tarf before joining the River Tilt. It was at this particular point, where the path is at it's highest in relation with the bottom of the gorge that Cation tried to show his fancy footwork on a sheet of ice that ran to the fast running waters far below. If Pete hadn't fielded him when in full flight he would have been the first winter doggy-paddler in the Water of Tarf. I might have been the second because in a fit of laughter at their antics I lost my feet and only halted the eventual splash by catching on to some very loose strands of lucky white heather.

However, things worked out all right and we crossed the bouncy bridge at the Falls of Tarf, which reminds me, we had a hell of a job getting my Cairn Terrier - Haggis over as it was a slatted bridge and she could see the bubbling water below. I had forgotten she was with us until this point and it was after this that she really began to struggle and held us up quite a bit. Bob and Stevie appeared and after a wee natter we hit the road again, and road it was, right down to Blair Atholl. First, though we passed the first trees since Lin of Dee and onto Forest Lodge surrounded by old Caledonian pines, wonderful old trees. The good news from the friendly old stalker was "its only nine miles to go on good track and tarmacadam roads". Nobody said anything but I'm sure we all felt the same, "Yuk", or something like that.

We were pretty tired by now but the miles were going by and we soon hit Marble Lodge and then down through Blairruachder Wood where we took a wrong turning, which meant a detour back onto the correct road. It was all tarmac road now, through Forestry Commission trees with views of a pair of buzzards, the occasional woodpecker, chaffinch and other small birds like tits, wrens and robins in abundance.

By the time we reached the car, it was really cold again with a thick hoary rime coming in. We were changing into dry clothes when there appeared an old string bag of a biplane with the pilot sitting in an open cockpit, flying just above the trees. We were cold enough; he must have been absolutely frozen up there. However, we had another good day out on the hills and so it was time to head back home to meet Bob and Stevie in one of the local hostelries. Time to sit and talk about the previous hours. It had taken us 4 hours to run 24 miles, not bad for a downhill run.

Tom Ross.

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