A Fine Horse in New Country

After camping for the night, we crossed the Spey at Wade’s two-arched Garva Bridge (the buttresses are built on an island in the river.) This felt like a very historical moment in the journey, although I wasn’t certain if we were within the weight limit! The estate – Glenshero – is owned by Alcan, and the dam provides power for the aluminium smelter at Kinlochleven.

The Corrieyairick Pass

Today’s route (about 17 miles) followed General Wade’s road over the Corrieyairick Pass. The road, which was completed over one summer in 1731, had the distinction of being the highest maintained public road in Britain (until the early nineteenth century). It was to be one of the easiest routes for us to follow (in terms of navigation), but had its own challenges: the height (it climbs to just under 2600 feet); and the state of the track, especially on the eastern approach, where it is mostly just like a river bed.

The first part was easy – a dead straight tarmacked road as far as Melgarve Farm along a broad valley floor, following the River Spey. From there on the going got steeper and rougher. Although in places you can still see the original cobbling, mostly it was rocky and unrideable, and we made our way up the grass on the side, where a sort of footpath has developed. There is also a very rough track which has been made by estate vehicles, so we followed that for a while, disturbing some black grouse. At the foot of the track we chatted to a Spey ranger, who was fascinated by our trip and amazed that we had traversed the Glen Banchor bogs alive (!) He warned me of a bridge on the Fort Augustus side of the pass which is impassable for horses. Oh well...I expect we’ll manage somehow! The only real challenge going up was having to hop the historic General Wade drainage channels which had been built to divert water off the track, but the ponies were pretty expert at that sort of thing by now.

We approached the Corrie Yairick, admiring the ‘basket of eggs’ glacial moraines on its floor. The track turns left to cross the floor of the corrie, then up the famous 13 zig zags which lead you up to the bealach. For the first time there was very nearly a loss of sense of humour from the boys as they puffed their way up, picking their way carefully through the boulders.
We paused about half way up for a photo opportunity (and to let our pulses get down below 500 again). Eventually, with much puffing, we reached the top to be rewarded with glorious views in all directions and what felt like a 70mph freezing wind in our faces. We could even see the west coast sea lochs – that WAS progress. Despite the views, the bealach itself is not attractive (unless you like pylons and VHF transmitters). We didn’t linger, chiefly because of the wind.

In an effort to get down to less arctic climes, I urged them down the hill - only to hear the clinkety clank of a shoe off Doogs (or what is always worse, half off!) Still, it justified lugging the cutters across Scotland, and we were soon on our way.

The track continues downhill in steep zigzags to cross the Allt Lagan a Bhainne. This is where the ranger had warned me about the bridge unsuitable for horses, but I was relieved to see that it had been replaced since his last visit! The track became flat and pleasant, and out of the wind it was a warm afternoon.
There are lovely wooded gorges around here, and we thoroughly enjoyed this part of the trip, trying to identify the place that Wade’s troops had christened ‘Snugburgh’. Ralph Storer writes in Scottish Hill Tracks that it was here on 30 October 1731 that the completion of the road was celebrated with roasted oxen and alcohol. Apparently the ‘joy was great’!

My joy would have been great too, if I could have persuaded the now shoeless Doogs to walk on the grass at the side of the track, instead of down the middle of the stoniest bit! However, he was absolutely determined, and seemed fine and certainly not lame, although I worried that he would be making himself sore. Normally I carried a boot for emergencies such as this, but typically (and carelessly) didn’t have it with me this day. I did put one of my doubled over woolly socks on him in an effort to protect his sole, but after about the seventh ford decided this was not really helping...

Before long we were rewarded with our first view of Fort Augustus and Loch Ness, far below. We wound our way down off the hill down yet more ziz zags (it’s a Wade thing). The ponies had the routine sussed by now – they knew the end was nigh (so to speak) and they positively scampered down the last section. They were right to be enthusiastic: we were offered grazing for them at Culachy House in a cattle field which was full of grass – very fine!

We camped with a good view of the house (very imposing, very pink). We awoke in the morning to see we were surrounded (and I do mean surrounded) by pheasants. It was like being in some cheap Hitchcock remake. They all became wildly excited at the sound of an approaching quad which clearly signalled BREAKFAST! To read on, click here.