Minigaig Pass (Kingussie to Blair Atholl)

Ruthven Ponies

 The Minigaig Pass has fascinated me for a long time. I probably first heard of it when reading Ralph Storer's 1994 book "Exploring Scottish Hill Tracks" that I've owned for years. I ventured onto its southern end when cycling from Calvine to Bruar Lodge to climb Beinn Dearg and ran the roughest northern section when doing a round of the Corbetts west of Glen Feshie.

After running the St Cuthbert's Way over two days in August, I realised long day distances were possible and looked for something to do. Measuring the approximate route with mapmyrun, it came in under 50km. Both ends were connected by the A9 and/or the railway. Although none of the route is waymarked, it was mostly on established tracks so all I'd need was a map and compass.

On doing some online research into the route, I found an excellent account  on blogspot from another likeminded runner who travelled the route in 2010. Even better, they had run it N-S which was the same as my plan. Since I would be arriving from the Central Belt, it made sense to leave the car at Blair Atholl and run back to it. I checked the bus and train timetables (and prices) to settle on the 08:55 Scotrail service from Blair Atholl on Saturday 12th October. On Thursday I suddenly remembered I would be crossing gaming estates and there might be stalking happening. I checked the Heading for the Scottish Hills site and called the Bruar Estates answerphone. I also sent an email to their office. Julia replied to confirm there would be stalking happening, but as long as I stayed on the right-of-way, then it would be fine.

I left home too late. Turning on the engine and programming Blair Atholl into the Sat Nav, it told me my ETA was 09:10. Fifteen minutes too late to catch the train. Some inventive driving resulted in me parking in Blair Atholl at 08:54. I sprinted to the station only to discover the train was delayed until 09:00. Phew.

On the train I fuelled up with some more Scott's Porage Oats before disembarking at Kingussie 40minutes later. I had originally planned to stop at Perth M&S to grab a sarnie for lunch, but that didn't happen and I decided the Kingussie Co-Op would have to do. Standing at the war-memorial waiting for the train to roll on north, the Co-Op (and even the thought of a sarnie) was dismissed and I just turned south and went on my way.

Crossing the Spey, some canoeists ready to set off

A mile of tarmac crossing the Spey and then under the A9 I arrived at Ruthven Barracks for a short piece to camera and check of the map. I wanted to follow the true military road route rather than taking the easier tarmac all the way to Tromie Bridge so climbed a gate and set off up a grassy vehicle track into a cow field.

The cows were spooked and ran up the path ahead for a while, stinking of shit. I climbed a stile and crossed a wee ford before following the track up to a high point west of the mast on Beinn Bhuidhe. The track narrowed to a faint trail in the heather and I was glad to reach a substantial cairn that confirmed I was on the right course.

Descending towards Glen Tromie now, I stopped for a pee before climbing a stile over a deer fence into the pinewoods and bracken above Glentromie Lodge. A month ago, this would have been inpenetrable jungle so I was glad for some browning dieback. Of course the vegetation was soaking and soon both my legs and feet were sodden.

The path was very boggy now as it ran parallel to a deer fence heading north instead of south. I could see the LR track not far beyond and even saw a couple of vehicles passing along it. I took the decision to climb the wobbly wires and soon was running at speed again joining the main track south up the glen.

I made good time and the miles beeped past on the watch as the landscape opened out. At the junction of the Gaick and Tromie glens I stopped to look at the map when suddenly a sheepdog appeared. It must have run out from the cottage in the distance and followed me up the track.

At the weir I left the comfort of the LR track and after a gel, set out on the next wild section of the route. I had previously been running nearby in 2014 so knew that the Minigaig route was 'indistinct' to say the least. I wasn't expecting much so just made sure to follow the easiest line until I reached the Allt na Culice. Bizarrely out of the corner of my eye, I spotted two mountain bikers on the left descending through deep heather from the forest. They were pushing/carrying bikes.

I filled up my water bottle and carried on, noting the bikers were heading north. The path was totally crap here and I was just stumbling through deep wet grass and heather, heading for a faint suggestion of a path up on the side of Leathaid an Taobhainn that was glinting in the sun.

The wind was getting up as I gained height, I was now at 600m. Lots of walking. Finally the gradient fell back and I spotted a quartz topped cairn the left of the path. This was obviously the summit at 820m so I stopped to put on another layer, my gloves and buff whilst eating some food.

As I continued south over flatter ground, the sky darkened and then it started raining. I stopped to don the cag making sure to keep the pace up to avoid getting cold. I knew this high section would be shortlived so wanted to make sure I was across it before the weather turned even worse. As expected, there were tiny white quartz cairns placed every 100m or so to help guide me. This place felt very remote and wild. In winter it must be respected.

The Caochan Lub - perfect high level camp spot?

Thankfully it didn't last long and I was able to take my hood down. Of course, my luck had to run out here and I managed to turn my right ankle somewhere here, falling in a heap on the short cropped heather beside the path. Typical. I couldn't get injured here, I was probably the furthest from any civilisation and any rescue would be tough. I stood up and tried it out - still functioning if painful. I carried on, gingerly.

The descent to Glen Bruar came soon and I spotted my salvation in the form of a LR track near a bridge at the head of the glen below me. Once there, I stopped for a protracted break to refuel and return my extra layers to the bag. 500m to the south of the bridge was the dark crag of Creag na h-Iolair Mhor (Cliff of the Big Eagle?)...while filming on the GoPro, I noticed the unmistakable silhouette of an eagle patrolling the air above me.

Although the LR track made for faster running progress, tiredness and a sore ankle slowed me down. I struggled to not stop every kilometre. I passed Bruar Lodge and some parked vehicles that looked like visting guns. Unfortunately the route left the LR track here to follow a damp path over the side of Druim Dubh.

Glen Bruar from the Druim Dubh

Not far from the sanctuary of the bothy ahead and probably distracted by the thought of another break, I managed to roll my ankle a second time. This time it was agony. Oh balls. After some rubbing and swearing, I stood up again and placed weight on it. If I kept it in a neutral position it was usable, but any lateral movement was painful. I limped the last 200m to the bothy and LR track.

There was a dog owner (two dogs) sitting at the picnic bench outside the wee bothy eating his lunch in the showery sun. I stopped to chat and eat my last food. I also signed the damp bothy visitors' book before setting off again for the final 10km to Blair.

Nothing remarkable to note until I reached the woods above Old Blair where the map told me there was a direct route back to my car but I was worried it would pass through the private grounds of Blair Castle. I stopped a dog walker to ask the very question and she gave me a wooly answer in pigeon English tinged with Polish. Fortunately the directions were correct, and soon enough I was slapping the tarmac past the castle, onto the main driveway and up to my car.

45.3km 5h30m

Penicuik House Trail Race

Sparse Runner had first introduced me to the grounds of Penicuik House in 2018 when I was looking for some Mountain Marathon advice as we prepared for the LAMM in Harris. As a member of the Penicuik Harriers running club, he was well aware of plans by the club to organise a 10km trail race in the grounds of the estate and he had previously shared the route online.

Unfortunately by the time he told me the inaugural 2018 race entries were open, it was full. I made a mental note to get in early for the 2019 event.

Over the next year, I made sure to run the course myself and even persuaded Sally along for one of them. Saturday 5th October was dry, but as per usual it had been chucking it down on the Friday and I knew we were in for a mudfest. On the way to Penicuik, I listened to England hump Argentina in the final pool games of the RWC2019 on FiveLive. A red card was awared to an Argentinian player as I parked up to register at Alderbank.

On the start line, nobody wanted to stand at the front, and the race marshall shouted at us. I stood forward. Eventually some stick insects also came forward and we eyed each other up. The race marshall reminded us of the course record - 39mins. I wouldn't be threatening that.

The whistle blew and off we went. Three guys went hurtling off at breakneck pace and were soon out of sight round the twists and turns of the ascending forest track. As expected, the mud was formidable and we sploshed along the top track trying hard not to slip and slide.

Along the top path

I judged the descent to the river well and kept my place and even managed to pass a baldy feller in a luminous yellow top on the way towards the main house.

Onto the tarmac I was going well, but a Westie passed me on the next ascent towards the walled garden. I kept up my pace through the woods turning sharp right back onto the tarmac briefly before passing the tower/doocot and over many slippy tree roots.

The descent to the river was very muddy indeed and a marshall warned us. I took it easy and lost two places to the first female and the guy in yellow. On the flat back to the ROman bridge, I regained those places and crossed the bridge to wave at the bagpiper with them on my heels. We stayed in that formation for the killer climb back to the top path and with 800m to go I was still ahead.

Just exiting the killer climb, first female on my heels

But...

I felt a loosening in one of my shoes and tried to ignore it. It got worse. I looked down and saw a flapping lace. Arrgghhhhhh. I knew the descent to the finish was loose and windy, not a place to be racing with an untied shoe. I could hear the breathing of my chasers behind me. I stepped to the side and stopped as they came flying past. Feck. Quick tying and off I went, I absolutely belted along to catch up the 50m they'd made. I got on their heels, but then the descent began and they stretched away (I'm no good at descending).

00:45:02 7/78  (would have been 5th save for my lace!!!)