Finally, the latest lockdown had ended and I needed to sleep somewhere different. As usual my time was scarce, so I headed out on a Friday night to go to a nice spot I had been with the kids just a couple of weeks before, whilst keeping to the 5 mile limit from the Aberdeen City boundary. As I rolled west the skies looked gloomy and threatening, but I put my faith in the forecast that I might be able to dodge the rain on the way to my spot and possibly even see the sky in the morning!
I used the Deeside Way to get me to Drumoak and crossed the now pedestrian bridge and started climbing up to Durris. I’ve had a couple of bivvies round here in the past, but wanted to ride through the forest to reach the point where the Elsick Mounth route leaves the trees at the far side. I’d had a lovely picnic with the kids here and had been meaning to try it out for a good while.
I could have brought a bivy bag and slept on the grass outside the trees, but I’d gone for my hammock instead to keep me off the sodden ground, also opting to put the tarp up for once as rain was due overnight. I settled in with a cuppa and a cake before bed time, hoping to see some sort of sunrise in the morning.
With my winter bag and sleep mat in the hammock I was nice and cosy, bar the odd wrestling match to keep the mat in place, due to it being far too long to sit comfortably in the Exped hammock. I’m not sure if the rain ever showed up in earnest, but at least I had bothered to be prepared for it for once. When the sun started to rise, it was still a bit dull to be worth getting up for pictures, so it was a while before I ventured out of my bed for breakfast and packing up. Emerging from the trees for a proper look, I realised there had been a hard frost overnight, with the grass I would have bivvied on frozen solid. Feeling smug about my life choices, I packed up and took some pictures in the now beaming morning sun.
To get home, I just needed to drop down the Elsick Mounth towards Stonehaven before doubling back on the tarmac for a pleasantly quiet ride towards home over the Netherley Road. It was a short excursion, but much appreciated, as was second breakfast when I got in!
With the panic about COVID-19 beginning to really ramp up, I decided I would bring forward my bivy from it’s usual last-gasp position at the end of the month, to a Wednesday night barely two weeks into March. It was just a precaution, but the lockdown that was enforced the following weekend proved it to be uncharacteristically prescient of me! Still dealing with my knee issues, I was planning another short distance night out, this time using the Commando, as I’d be riding the cliff paths to the South of Aberdeen.
I loaded up the luxuries such as a stove, teabags and milk and just went for a drybag on top of the pannier rack, which I still haven’t bothered to take off since last summer. The forecast was good for a dry night so I only had my Borah Snowyside eVent bivy bag as a shelter, plus my nice toasty Mountain Hardwear Phantom Flame sleeping bag as a treat. I did my usual stock up a the Co-op and was on my way shortly before 11pm. I didn’t have far to go, so no big deal as I took my usual commute route to work along the Deeside Way. As I cut through Duthie Park the smell of illegal substances wafted in the air from some local ne’er -do-wells – never mind, I’d soon be taking in refreshing sea breezes! I followed the river right down to the harbour and made towards the Torry Battery – unfortunately the pleasant ride around the head is blocked off whilst they destroy Nigg Bay with a new harbour, so I had to cut off along the edge of the golf course to climb and drop into the bay.
I slowly climbed back up the other side, eventually joining the nice bike path that parallels the coast road. Almost immediately, I nipped through a gate to join the cliff top path proper, which is a lovely singletrack ride without any real exposure – I normally do it on the road bike, so it was even more relaxing on 29+ tyres! I’ve been scoping this area out every time I’ve been through for a nice spot, so it was really just a question of recognising one of them in the dark.
I reached my favoured spot quite quickly and bundled myself and the bike down the steep grassy slope to a flattish area below. I settled on a spot next to a large rock that would give a bit of shelter from the Westerlies that were due to blow overnight.
I got my sleeping kit laid out on the long cushioned horizontal grass and turned my attentions to a brew. The rock behind me had a perfect shelf for setting up the meths stove – unfortunately I had left the miniscule pot stand sitting in the garage! I resorted to just holding my mug at the optimum height above the flame – annoying, but workable. Tea made and butties eaten, I messed about for a few minutes trying to take night shots, but the wind was quite chilling and I really needed some sleep before work the following day, so I reluctantly turned in.
Once I was encased in my layers, it became apparent that this wasn’t going to work. The unbelievable slippiness of the bivy bag’s bottom layer had me sliding off the sleep mat almost the minute I climbed inside. Unless I wanted to spend the night working my way to the edge of the cliffs, something had to give. Luckily, taking my winter bag meant I could get away without the extra wind protection, so I just slept out in the open – the grass around me was also bone dry, so no real issue doing this. Annoyance dealt with, I rolled over and went to sleep, setting a mental alarm to wake up before sunrise so I could try and get pictures.
After lazing about for an hour or so, I roused myself for a snack and some pictures, before deciding to pack up and go. Being so close to work, there was no way I was going straight in, so I headed South instead of North, to follow the cliff path all the way to Cove. It’s a lovely wee ride, especially when not on road slicks. I turned off before going all the way down to Cove Bay, as I couldn’t be bothered with the steep road climb out. I cut through Cove and crossed the busy dual carriageway to follow the pavement along to one of the stranded back roads left perfect for cycling since the AWPR completion.
I wasn’t quite ready to roll straight downhill to work however, so I took a left near the end of Kincorth Hill, finding a grassy path to my right which lead to a winding way through the abundant gorse. This way will probably distribute a generous amount of leg punctures in the summer. Eventually I popped out onto the main tracks and whizzed along the gravel to the end of the reserve, with just a quick stop at the viewpoint, before mixing it on the dual carriageway to get me to work.
I did this bivy mainly as a precaution in case any restrictions came in to limit movement outdoors, but turned out to have impeccable timing as the restrictions came into place a few days afterwards. Time will tell whether I have to take advantage of the relaxed BAM rules letting me do a back garden bivy for April!
After two consecutive years of bivying, I saw no reason to stop now. As usual, I had been putting January off for various reasons and saw my plans for a midweek bivy scuppered by illness. I recovered enough by the end of the week for a last gasp effort on Friday the 31st. Unfortunately my knees are still out of commission, meaning I was stuck close to home again. Just as in December, I threw a random collection of gear into my panniers and headed out towards Countesswells at about 11pm with a vague area in mind. Climbing up the back of Blacktop, I cut off onto a ribbon of singletrack that I’ve not tried out for ages, almost immediately being blocked by a fallen tree. No problem, I just pushed up the hill at a right angle, gaining enough elevation over a rise to keep me out of view in a dip under the trees.
With the recent rain, the ground was going to be soaking, so I had opted for the hammock as usual. It was a second night out in my Crimbo prezzy Exped Travel Hammock Lite and for some reason, I’d completely forgotten how I’d set it up last time. After a lot of fussing, I managed to get it slung up satisfactorily between the apparently poorly spaced trees and got the mKettle on the go. One great thing about not being able to ride far is that I don’t obsess over the weight and just lob whatever I fancy in the panniers.
I had a brew made in about the same time I would at home, this thing almost boils things too fast to enjoy the jet of flame it produces! I drank my brew whilst chomping a scone from the Co-Op, before getting tucked in for bed. I’d just thrown in my old 3/4 length classic Thermarest due to the deflating issue with the Klymit Hammock-V and was perfectly comfy in my warm bag with relatively mild temperatures predicted overnight. There was also some light rain in the forecast, so I reluctantly put up the tarp for the first time since December 2018!
I got up after a decent night’s sleep and started pottering about for my morning cuppa, collecting the usual wee pile of dry twigs for the mKettle. It hadn’t rained at all overnight, which I found mildly annoying after ending my tarp-free run.
I did however put it to good use as a windbreak, by flipping it over behind the hammock as I sat there supping and pendulating.
As the sun began to rise behind me, I started packing up, at which point it began to rain lightly. Redemption! I hooked the tarp back into it’s original position and packed away the gear under my shelter, with the rain stopping soon enough to give the tarp a quick shake before stuffing into a pannier too.
I pushed through a bit of bracken to rejoin the singletrack path just beyond the fallen tree and enjoyed weaving my way through the trees. The handling isn’t great with just rear panniers like this, but it was just nice to be doing a ride that wasn’t my commute.
Eventually I emerged onto a better known path and left blacktop behind, taking a random mix of trails through Countesswells, before heading home through Hazelhead Park. Oblivious to the time, I emerged right in the middle of the parkrun and had to reverse my planned direction to stalk along behind a couple of front runners to get myself out of everyone’s way at the top of the out and back running route. I also hung about for a few minutes to egg on a couple of friends I knew would be there, before whizzing away back home to see the kids.
October was another chance to get in a bivy somewhere more exotic than Aberdeen’s surroundings, as we were in Nethybridge for the week for Kerr’s half term. I hatched a plan to either bivy up high for a sunrise view, or the easier option of down low with the hammock somewhere in the forest. After watching the weather all week for an overnight that fit the bill, I headed out around 10pm with the aim of getting the bike up to the summit of Bynack More and finding a sheltered spot among the rock tors.
As i was leaving the village, I saw a set of lanterns in the trees along the road to Dell Lodge which I wanted to get a long exposure shot of. On getting the camera out, it instantly died with a low battery warning. I figured it was just a bit too cold, as the temperature was really low already but it never came back, even after warming it up. I was going to have to slum it with my iPhone pictures instead.
I didn’t hang about once I hit the forest proper and started up the long gradual climb to Forest Lodge, where I took the turn for Ryvoan. More gradual climbing ensued and I exited Abernethy Forest into an icy headwind. I rolled down past the bothy and doubled-back on the Bynack More track, slowly climbing round the hillside before dropping down to the slightly too narrow bridge.
Next it was a case of grinding and hopping my way up towards the plateau. I kept going until I messed up on a steep section, which gave me the excuse to start pushing. At this point I also realised that the moon was bright enough for lights to be superfluous, so I switched off the Joystick and enjoyed finishing off the climb under natural light.
I reached the fork and left the Cairngrms Loop route to take the walker’s path towards Bynack More. Last time I was here was on a run nearly 10 years ago, so I couldn’t remember how much would be awkward to ride. Turns out the whole initial stretch was lovely to ride, so much so that I was considering just bivying where I was, as I seemed to be completely out of the wind at times. However, I was consumed with the idea of a summit bivy, so on I went regardless of the late hour. I soon reached the bottom of the ridge proper and hopped off quite quickly, rather than making a pretence of riding anything.
I slogged my way up, feeling like I was really making a meal of the steep bits, whilst being painfully aware of the fact I wouldn’t be riding down any of this in the morning. I managed to lose my planned path on the right side of the ridge, so ended up doing a bit of clambering over rocks I didn’t need to, but at least I was moving up! The gradient eased further up and I was able to hop back on the bike for the odd section before reaching the rocky summit area. After a quick recce, I found a good spot to hoist the bike up to the summit cairn.
The wind was pretty cutting up here, so I identified a nice hollow in the lee to bed down in. I’d wisely brought my warmer bag ( Mountain Hardwear Phantom Flame, rated at -9), so was pretty cosy once inside and I got myself a good night’s sleep without the dreaded frozen foot syndrome. I woke around dawn and took a peek to see if I needed to drag myself out and take some pictures.
I noticed the bike was coated in a layer of frost and the foot area of my bivy looked like it was coated in a massive bird poo, which also turned out to be frost. I didn’t rush to get up, as it was too pleasant just lying there drinking tea and watching the light improve.
After getting up, I wandered around trying to take some decent pictures and mostly failing. The phone also kept shutting down with the cold and had to be dropped into my bib shorts to revive with some body heat.
I lifted the bike back over the rocks and dropped to the main path, where I could finally do some riding, taking care not to test my grip too far on the ice-covered rocks. The daylight made keeping to the best line a lot more straightforward.
I jumped off to roll/carry the bike down the steep final switchbacks before returning the way I’d come across the plateau.
The descent passed without incident – it was nice to actually come down this way for a change. I had been thinking of extending my return with a loop through Rothiemurchus, but thought better of it and headed back past Ryvoan to get me home at a decent time, so we could take the kids to the wildlife park on what looked like it was going to be a lovely sunny day.