Lejog day 29 Pitlochry to Dalwhinnie

 

The day started off well. Vanessa (the Brazilian who'd checked us in) had been busy baking and all the residents were invited to help themselves to take a walnut cake on their journey today. So we did and very tasty it was too. 

This was a wonderful day of traffic free cycleways closely following the line of the busy A9. It also ran virtually parallel to the main railway line. The mountains were getting bigger so it was no surprise when a road sign informed us, 'Welcome to the Highlands,'. 

Cyclists were few and far between. We did meet a couple of female cyclists on the brow of a hill. We'd huffed and puffed up from one direction and they'd done the same the other way; in fact one of them was pushing her bike up the hill. We all stopped for a breather. They were doing lejog from north to south and didn't know where they were aiming for today. Unlike us, doing it the easy way, they were camping so could just keep going until either exhaustion set in or a wonderful place to camp appeared.

The route took us over the Pass of Drumochter which rises to an altitude of 1500 feet. The slope was so gradual it was hardly noticeable that we were going uphill unless of course we're now super fit! Anyway as far as I know there'll be nowhere higher for the rest of this trip. The top of Hartside in Cumbria takes the prize for highest altitude overall. 

 A lovely five mile gradual descent followed to see us arrive at Dalwhinnie Old School Hostel. It really used to be a school and there's still a blackboard in one of the rooms to prove it. There are four other people staying here. Three are cyclists who are combining cycling with birdwatching. They live in Kendal. The other is a Frenchman bagging munros. He's done 123 so far and is staying here until the end of next week so he's got plenty of time to do a few more. 

Dalwhinnie is in the middle of nowhere and the couple of places that offer food close at 5pm. There's a mini shop at the hostel so today's gourmet meal was tomato soup,  followed by a half tin of beans, tinned potatos from the shop and savoury pastry things bought from the petrol station just along the road. We had been eyeing the same pastries but there were only two and before we'd made a decision a biker came and eagerly snatched one from under our noses! Our fault for dithering I suppose. 

The hostel is cosy with comfortable sofas and a huge tv that nobody's watching. I think our breakfast in the morning will be a meagre cobbled together affair of bits and pieces we've accumulated. Maybe there'll be a bacon butty along the road somewhere! 

        The view from the hostel