Ladies go packrafting

I’ve been curious to try packrafting for a few months now. I like the idea of being able to walk in to remote places and join up all the blue bits on the map. So, when Caroline pointed me in the direction of Annie’s packraft meet up, I said Yes! 

On a surprisingly bright morning in late September we arrived at Andy’s Backcountry Scot store in Aviemore.  The packraft and paddle probably added about 3kg to my hiking bag, not bad considering my whitewater kayak weights 22kg on its own.

Inflation Time

Fully kitted out, we walked out of Aviemore and up to Loch an Eliein. Time to packraft.  While it was a glorious sunny day it was also rather blowy. I was mindful of Annie’s advice not to let my raft blow away, unfortunately I was so busy holding down my packraft that my buoyancy aid flew away. Some kind SUPers reunited me with it. With all my stuff pinned down against the wind, I began inflating the raft. The process of using a giant dry back to inflate it took a bit of getting used to, but with improved technique relatively efficient.

Ready to go!

We paddled out around the island and over to the other side of the loch. The boat was much more manoeuvrable than I’d expected, going at a reasonable speed even against the wind. My packraft didn’t have a proper spraydeck, but the coverthing kept the splashes out and stayed pretty dry inside the boat.

Around the island

 Getting out of Loch an Eilein we walked the short distance over to Loch Gamhna. It’s too short a walk to be worth packing down the raft, so we carried them. With all the kit in the boat it was impossible to balance it on my shoulder, so Annie and I doubled up. Bec and Caroline, in slightly different models of packrafts simply unhooked their backpacks making it much easier to carry. I think next time, I’d try balancing the backrest on my forehead and shoulders.

Over on Loch Gamnha the wind had picked up further and it was tough work to make progress. We soon made a pit stop for lunch. I realised I had foolishly left my lunch inside my inflated packraft. Oops. After a quick deflate-reflate I was munching on oatcakes and cheese with everyone else in the sunshine. Whilst searching for my food bad I discovered I had suffered a porridge explosion. Fortunately however, the porridge exploded into a plastic bag and not into the packraft or I’d still be in there cleaning it.

Pushing on through the wind we attempted to find the least boggy part of the bank to disembark. With at least semi dry feet, I deflated my packraft disassembled my paddle and tried to remember how it had all fitted on to my backpack. We walked a few miles more through the wood emerging at the main road and a sign pointing towards cake. Cake!

Let there be Cake!

Having devoured a lovely piece of White Lady cake, and earl grey tea, we headed next door to ourcampground. As it turned out the estate we also hosting a wild swimming meet up and a gin launch (!).  We quickly set up camp and wandered back up to the bar, and stage area. I think we looked quite normal in thermals and leggings, compared to the wild swimmers in their Bat cape-like dry robes. Caroline and I shared a cheeky half pizza to supplement our dinners, while Bec located a missing pair of paddles belonging to the hire shop. Returning to camp we cooked our meals (I can confirm, Decathlon’s Apotona dehydrated meals are quite edible), and tried out the composting toilet (better than the portaloos) before turning in for the night.

The next morning we woke up to dry tents but a cloudy sky. After a leisurely breakfast consisting of the remains of my porridge and insta coffee, we packed down while the clouds grew darker. Venturing down to the river Spey, we found it at a decent flow from last weeks rain. This time I felt I knew what I was doing inflating the packraft, and pretty soon we were inflated and ready to go.

Setting off on the Spey

Just as we put on the river it started to rain, and continued intermittently throughout the rest of the day. Continuing down river I instructed the rest of the group in the correct technique for holding a paddle, so that it doesn’t block your face in a photograph. This is possibly the most important thing I’ve learned in all my years boating. On moving water the packrafts are still relatively agile, it is possible to ferry glide catch eddies; I even tried (and failed) to surf a mini-wave.

A short paddle later we found ourselves in Aviemore and after a speedy packdown in the rain, we commenced the short walk back to the Backcounty Scot shop. With boats returned and a quick change we headed down the road for another cake stop in Route 7 café, before hitting the road.

Big thanks to Annie for organising the weekend and Andy Toop for sorting us out with hire packrafts at a bargain price. I had a super time, hope to head out on another packraft adventure soon!

Crap Weather and Car Calamity

Sunday and Monday had appalling forecasts. Phrases like: heavy persistent rain, walking conditions arduous and gusts of 50 mph, might suggest sensible people stay indoors. However we are not sensible people. Instead we looked at the map with two questions ‘what’s the easiest/quickest mountains we can get up in poor weather’ and ‘are they close to a tea room’….

The answer is Meall Buidhe followed by Stuchd an Lochain.

Meall Buidhe, raining at the start

Sunday’s trip up Meall Buidhe was largely uneventful, it was raining at the start, it rained at the top and it rain all the way down. The return along the ridge was particularly brutal, the wind whipping rain into our faces. The walk was certainly quick, up and down in 2hours 32 minutes we outperformed the 3-4 hour quoted by the guidebook. After a quick change we retreated to the tearoom for hot chocolates all round!

Ashley and Phil, questioning their life choices

False summits on Meall Buidhe

Monday was supposed to a repeat performance, same glen but attempting Stuchd an Lochain on the other side of the valley. It’s a lonely road to the top of Glen Lyon and about 500m from the very top of the road, all the warning lights came on in the car. It seemed I’d lost all power and the car just managed to keep juddering forward.

Since we were at the start of the walk anyway, we decided just to head up the hill and bag the summit (again I’m not sure if that’s a sensible person move). The thought of a broken car did slightly taint the walk for me, so not many pictures from Monday. In any case while less rainy than the day before it was rather windy.

Stuchd an Lochain, hoping it might all be OK

Returning to the car I was optimistic that it might have magically fixed itself while we were walking. I was wrong. After a few meters it was clear there was something really wrong. Since there is no mobile reception in Glen Lyon, we limped back down the valley. Poor Phil was subjected to me wailing ‘WHY DOES THIS HAPPEN TO ME?’ all the way. We returned to the Bridge of Balgie cafe, to beg for use of landline to call for help.

Unfortunately I’d naively assumed this car wouldn’t breakdown so didn’t have cover. I Joined the RAC by the roadside for only a mildly extortionate cost, and began waiting for help to arrive. Soon I was cruelly abandoned by Ashley, Phil and Ivanka, some rubbish about needing to catch flights, poor excuse if you ask me…

Loading up in Bridge of Balgie

Three hours later the RAC came to the rescue in the form of a mechanic from the Lix Toll garage, who after a quick look decided to put the Volvo on the flatbed and drive me back to Lix Toll for diagnostics. The pass around Ben Lawers is really quite scenic from the tow truck and the sun was just peeking out but I was in no mood to enjoy the view.

Lix Toll rescue service

At Lix Toll garage the issue was found to be the fuel injection system. Not fixable quickly. The RAC only tow 50 miles for new members, so the car got towed on to the Volvo garage in Stirling, and I was left to make my own way home form there. Another car bites the dust.

I think I may be cursed.

Train adventures in Corrour

Corrour!

Staying in Killin, with Ashley, Phill and Ivanka, the weather had been decidedly autumnal for the first few days. However on Friday night MWIS predicted a break in the weather. Time to hatch a plan!

Since I first heard about it, I’ve been curious to explore Corrour. As the UK’s most remote train station (there are no roads in), it holds the promise of a proper wilderness adventure with the added bonus of being the starting point for a couple of Munros.

Train times checked, an early morning start saw us driving to Bridge of Orchy. The sun peeking through the clouds suggesting the weather might just be as good as forecast.

Early morning views just out of Tyndrum

We arrived at Bridge of Orchy station, in plenty of time to faff about before jumping on the sleeper train. Slightly bemused passengers, just waking up made room for us in the seating compartment while we tucked into Scotrail coffee and biscuits.

Train Adventures!

Two stops later we hopped of at Corrour station just one other couple behind us. The sun was coming out and it was shaping up to be a great day for hill bagging.

Corrour Station train pulling away

First stop was passing Corrour Youth Hostel hidden in the trees at the shoes of Loch Ossian. The now eco hostel used to the old waiting room for Victorian gentry being ferried to the lodge at the other end of the loch.

Loch Ossian Youth Hostel hiding in the trees

The first peak we bagged was Carn Dearg, I’m pretty sure we missed the path to the Summit (Phil claims it doesn’t exist). Nonetheless after an arduous wade through tussocky heather we crested the top to grab a victory pic for the collection.

Carn Dearg summit

After fairly easy traverse we ascended Sgor Gabhrie, making excellent time. We also got our first glimpse of the other couple we’d seen at the station, they we’re making the circuit in the opposite direction (we had been worried they we just that much faster than us). Comparing notes we were warned of paddy field conditions on the decent from Sgor Choinnich. They weren’t wrong.

Sgor Gabhrie summit, also featuring Ivanka's thumb ;-)

Squelchy wet feet notwithstanding, we successfully made our way down to the shoes of Loch. The £20 million mansion at the head of the loch was well hidden in the trees. We were disappointed not to get a good nosey at it; apparently it looks like a James bond villain lair! 

Views down Loch Ossian

As well as the 'James Bond Lair' there is also a small collection of cottages at the head of the loch. The isolation, and the way the cottages are half hidden in the trees gives the place a creepy air! With the midges setting, we didn't stop to explore. Tramping down the edge of the loch we made good time back to station, arriving in plenty of time to grab drinks and snacks at the station café before the return train pulled in.

Removing shoes before cafe time

On the whole Corrour was just as wild and expansive as I’d imagined, however the hydro tracks that criss-cross the valleys slightly takes away from the sense of remoteness to the place.

Panorama fun on Sgor Choinnich