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Day 6 - Wednesday 11th May

River Pattack - Dalwhinnie

(19km / 480m ascent)

The night had been another freezing one, so I really was glad I had taken my down jacket. We had noticed that every evening, the few fluffy clouds that had been around in the day invariably melted into nothing as the sun set. We could not fathom out how that worked!

In the dim & distant past I had read that Dirc Mhor was a sight not to be missed, and so in the run-up to the Challenge I had tried to find out as much as possible about it. Various theories existed - the best supplied by John Donohoe - that it was a deep slash in the hillside caused by an angry dragon's tail who was annoyed to find no decent pub in Dalwhinnie.

Now - we could have taken the very nice track alongside Loch Ericht and been in Dalwhinnie before lunch for some re-training exercises, but Phil said that as it was my tenth, he was up for it - so Dirc Mhor it was.

So, we wandered down the River Pattack, past the site of an old village, than past the falls (very impressive) and then up the Allt Beinn Eilde. This involved climbing not one, but two deer fences with combination locked gates in quick succession. The padlocks only had 4 dials each and so we toyed with sitting there for a few happy hours in the sunshine and changing the combinations for the Monarch of the Glen Estate who were so welcoming to walkers... but we both had lives and so put that off for something to idle away the hours at the next visit.

After bumping into scores of deer round the back of Beinn Eilde, who looked genuinely surprised to see us, we clambered up and over the moor for a mile or so to the south east entrance to the Dirc Mhor. It was baking hot and the gorge really was an amazing sight. It leads you in gently at first in a little dry valley and then the cliffs soar upwards on the right and then you enter the chasm.

Here there is a huge jumble of rocks - all sizes and shapes, choking the gorge floor. The mosses and plant life bridge all the gaps between the boulders so it is almost impossible to know if your feet are on something solid or a carpet of fresh air.

You take four or five steps along and down and then have to clamber up big boulders to progress forwards. With the packs on we felt incredibly unstable and there was this nagging fear that at any moment your foothold would vanish into fresh air and your leg would disappear into the void. It was a really unnerving experience. After a quarter of an hour of this we had progressed about 50 m along the gorge. It was a nightmare!

It was hot; we were knackered and massively apprehensive that this was going to get worse.

Enough was enough, and so when I noticed a grassy exit from the gorge on the left hand side, Phil readily agreed that Dirc Mhor could be done another day when we had day-sacks instead of the packs. It was a relief to get into the breeze again at the side of the gorge.

But what now? A closer look at the map showed that the cliffs curled back around at the north exit of the gorge, so we decided to drop down to the Lochan na Doire-uaine and try to get through the valley there. Now, Phil did say that he thought the contours were a bit close together, but I thought 'what the heck, it cannot be worse than what we have just left...'

We got down to the Lochan and after getting a good way along it realised that the cliffs went sheer, straight into the water. Back we went to the boggy end of the Lochan where we re-grouped, had a spot of lunch, a brew and a boot break in the sunshine. Things felt better now, so we clambered through the peat bogs to the other side of the Lochan and noticed that the cliffs on the north side of the Lochan also looked as though they dropped straight into the water. The cliffs on the north side of the Lochan were not even marked on the map. It dawned on us that this was another Dirc Mhor - just lower down the hillside than the one on the map. We sat and postulated on how on earth all this was formed.

So - with no way past the Lochan we decided to go north over the moor and around the un-named hill marked 589m. It was a bit of a slog but it was a beautiful day and we had time on our side. On our way round this hill, we chanced on a peculiar past happening. Phil first discovered the discarded First Aid Kit, and then we found a tarpaulin, a full set of tent pegs, a full food bag, lip balm... And so it went on. We were nervously expecting to come across a tatty old Gore-Tex coat with skeletal remains, but must have missed it. Perhaps he too had tried to find a way through Dirc Mhor!

The little valley heading east away from the twin Dircs was an absolute delight - stunted birch trees, the occasional oak, lush grassy patches and a bubbly stream for company. (Phil & I never talk much!) Then we found a rather horrid, very white LRT, all bouldery that led us down towards Dalwhinnie and the Loch Ericht Hotel which was basic but friendly and the holder of my second food parcel.

Over supper we talked with John Jocys and Viv Pike and he very kindly listened to our epic adventures in Dirc Mhor (which got wilder and rockier with each telling). Since the challenge, John's son Nick, who is studying geology at university, has come up with a couple of theories as to how the Dircs were formed.

A good evening was had at the hotel. Has anyone else noticed how the service you receive in Scottish hotels has been transformed this year? We were looked after by a couple from Slovakia at the Loch Ericht, who were charm personified. (The Fife Arms later on in the walk was also amazingly blessed with Eastern European staff, whose sole purpose was to make your stay a pleasure!)

After leaving the restaurant downstairs, we repaired to the upstairs residents' lounge for further training and another telling of our heroic struggle with the Dragon's Dircs!