A Fine Horse in New Country

Camp that night was at the edge of the forest overlooking Glen Errochty. We awoke after the first light frost of the winter to autumnal beauty, although it’s fair to say not everyone was quite so enchanted – it’s not easy being a camping whippet in Scotland.

The next day brought the start of the Gaick (Cleft) pass, leading from Dalnacardoch (north of Blair Atholl) to Ruthven Barracks near Newtonmore. This pass runs broadly parallel to the A9 Drumochter pass, 20 miles of very lonely glacial country. Even the glens are over 1200ft high!

The first obstacle – crossing the lethal A9 – was solved by... going under it! We went through the tunnel through which flows the Edendon Water. The ponies were by now pretty inured to whatever new lunacy I could invent, and walked through without a murmur, oblivious to the echoing roar of lorries overhead. The river, luckily, was quite low.

There is a good landrover track as far as Sron Phadraig Lodge, an abandoned shooting lodge. I had planned to camp near it, but as we approached, I had a very strange and unpleasant sensation – hairs prickling the back of my neck stuff. I was tempted to put it down to being tired, or the light just starting to go, but the ponies were also very unsettled and snorty, so we went a little further on towards the dam to settle for the night.

I thought of the Gaick’s evil reputation: “Black Gaick of the wind-whistling, crooked glens, ever enticing her admirers to their destruction” . Ooo-er...

The Gaick Pass

We got organised for the night on the banks of the river, near the path which we were to follow in the morning. It climbs high on the hillside to the left to avoid the peat bogs surrounding Loch an Duin. These bogs are the watershed between Atholl and Speyside – best avoided by ponies – indeed everybody!

The ponies’ suspicions were confirmed when a stalking party appeared down the glen in the evening, a successful expedition complete with gory pony covered in stag’s blood! Yeoman was convinced that he had been brought up here for sacrificial purposes and only the last of my breakfast muesli would console him.
An Dun and Craig an Loch cradle Loch an Duin, and in the morning we followed the path which clings to the steep hillside. It is very narrow in places and we could only walk in single file: me first, followed by Doogs, with Yeoman following at the back. It was a little unnerving to hear the crashing of boulders coming from the back as they rolled down the steep hillside into the loch... I didn’t have the nerve to look and see what was really happening back there!

At the other end of the Loch we forded the Allt Loch an Duin, resulting in wet feet. I thought about changing my socks, but as things turned out, was glad I hadn’t bothered as there were MANY river crossings to come before we reached Gaick Lodge. On the way we passed Loch Bhrodainn, named after the mythical Celtic hound that chased the white stag of Ben Alder into its depths, where they both disappeared for eternity. We also passed the memorial for the Black Officer, Captain John MacPherson, who was killed by an avalanche on a shooting expedition in 1800, along with his companions.

It was good to have a leisurely late lunch at the dam, especially as breakfast had been sparse due to the local muesli shortage, (and a couple of hours’ kip was excellent also.) Travelling with ponies is not conducive to restful sleep – like with babies, the noise they make keeps you awake, and if you can’t hear them, that’s even worse – especially when you know the last fence you saw was at least fifteen miles back the other way...
We had arranged to spend the night with an old friend in Newtonmore, and an excellent night it was, with many tales of Highland ponies and Highland pony people. He could not have been more hospitable and entertaining. The ponies had a lovely field in front of the house to recover from their exertions, but Yeoman spent much of his time goggling in fascinated horror at a little cream mule over the fence. Doogs just ate. (I could just see the way this trip was shaping up – Doogs)
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