A Bothy Trip with a Difference. A Lesson in Complacency.

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A bothy trip with a couple of old friends was planned a few weeks ago so after deciding which one to visit we motored up to the Central Highland District of Scotland on Friday evening, intending to walk the 8km ( 5miles) over the moors in the dark. It was a very dark night, no moon or stars, and pitch black- the total darkness of an underground tunnel. Normally you can see something of the landscape around you, even if dimly perceived, like the edge of a wood, the vague shape of the surrounding hills, or a large water feature but on this occasion it was  really dark. Probably due to an already featureless landscape and zero habitation glow with no city, town or village lights anywhere within 30 miles.

We have walked into dozens of bothies at night in the dark over the decades and rarely had a problem but on this occasion I experienced something unusual that turned it from a straightforward trudge into something approaching a mini adventure. Normally, if it's a night time walk we pick a bothy with a track to follow to make it easier. We had all been to this one before, years ago, and although remote, set in the middle of largely featureless boggy vastness, a land rover track made the walk in fairly uneventful most of the way. We were aware there was a pathless gap of two km across the bog however to reach a river crossing but we were confident this would be easy to find as well.

This is a view of the same area in daylight. It was no problem in daylight on our way back out to the car finding our way through the swamps without difficulty but heading in was a different matter. When we left the land rover track I took the lead position in front with confidence, forging ahead to find the best way through the boggy mire but heavy snow in this area followed by a recent rapid thaw had turned most of the ground mushy. Normally in Scotland, in mud and peat hags, you might sink up to your knees but no further but on this particular occasion I suddenly found myself in a deep muddy swamp. Not like the lochan above, which would have been obvious to avoid, even in the dark or frozen, but on supposedly solid ground that had loads of thick tussocks sticking up but a layer of frozen ice between them. Normally, this might be about knee deep if unlucky but after a months worth a rain, a dump of heavy snow, then a rapid thaw, I suddenly found myself crashing through the ice into thigh deep bog with a sucking mud base. If I moved a step in any direction it was almost waist deep and sticky, as the ice failed to hold my weight. It was not a lochan I'd wandered into- just a patch of bog- but far more saturated than anything else I've encountered in Scotland. After the initial shock I managed to take off my heavy overnight rucksack and push it in front of me across the ice then crawl after it... as separated like this the ice did bear our weight.

By the time I had managed to extract myself I was also separated from my two companions, and due to being in a dip or hollow I could not see their torches anymore. I was also soaking from the waist down and boy was that water cold. This is a daylight view of roughly the same terrain. Looks solid doesn't it? Imagine it in the pitch black and myself wondering if my head torch would stay on as that went under the water as well. And this is where the complacency kicks in. For a start I did not have a back up torch if this one failed and when I dug out my compass it had a very large bubble within it, rendering it unreliable. ( I must have damaged it when I shoved the bag of coal into my rucksack, pushing it down to fit, cracking the plastic inners.)
It had taken me at least five minutes to get free of the bog and I was now unsure of direction so I got out my map and had a think. Luckily, I was experienced  enough to consider things rationally and was still confident I could find the bothy, even without a compass or the others- who had forged on ahead, helped by a GPS. That's cheating!!!!. ( in the various clubs I've been in over the years it's not unusual to walk alone for a spell, especially on backpacking trips, or going up and down a hill, finding your own way, but this was a first for a night time walk when we usually stick together.)

At this point a weird thing happened. Just when I thought I was completely alone in the darkness of the eternal abyss a tiny light appeared from another head torch in the distance so I shouldered my pack and set off towards it. " They must have waited for me after all." I thought. "Happy days."
It was only one lone head torch however bobbing around and the longer I followed it the more I realized it was leading me in the wrong direction, down towards the main large loch in the district.( the western end of it just visible above.)
When it suddenly winked off I'd already worked out it must be someone else. Either a local gamekeeper, fish bailiff, or estate worker or another hill and bothy lover. I also realized if it was an estate worker they might have a rifle with them as part of their job so maybe not a good idea to chase after them any further. I got out my map again and had a rethink.
The best way now to find the bothy I decided was to go slightly downhill, away from the head torch stranger, until I reached the western edge of the loch then follow the river flowing into it upstream until I reached the bridge across it. Easy landmarks to find in the dark and follow without needing a compass.... or even a torch if it stopped working with the insides now soaked....so I did that. You can see the ground I covered in the above photo. It felt far longer than it looks with a feeble torch as the batteries could have been newer but I thought I'd wear them out on this trip then replace them. I did have a spare set in the rucksack but changing them over in complete darkness might prove problematic so I did not want to attempt it unless necessary. An hour or so later John and Gavin came out belatedly, to find me, but by that time I was very near the bothy anyway- still confident I would reach it and over the bridge... it just took longer than expected.... and a few more kilometers in the dark. ( back in Glasgow I bought a new head torch and compass right away as it could have been more unpleasant and serious if my torch failed completely, although I would still have reached the bothy, just far later again, so I now have a back up torch just in case. A wake up call for me. Never rely on others too much.... although by nature  I usually am the independent type anyway  Probably never need it but a definite lesson in complacency on my part as my torch could have been better over rough ground and swamps giving me a fighting chance of a straight line traverse over a challenging up and down landscape and my new one is far brighter with a longer beam.

Anyway, the bothy, when I eventually reached it, was a comforting sight.  The first room was a bit basic... but I've slept in worse...

The next room was a step up in class. It had a fireplace... and a stone floor.

But the third room was the winner.... like the engine room in Snowpiercer,  a cheery coal fire.... a few items of furniture... like a table, two benches and some chairs. All the comforts of home.

Although I enjoy bothies at the best of times... this one was extra special due to the increased effort and uncertainty on the way in. Instead of putting me off it elevated the experience tremendously and I was buzzing with energy, staying up until 3:00am drying off my trousers and socks long after the others went to bed.

It also made me think about the fire and humans... and a 10,000 plus years connection with it. These photos are unaltered to show you that you really do see images or visions in the flames. The first one looks like a dancing chicken... the one below a sinister hooded figure, coming in on the right. Think of the thousands of tribes sat round a night time fire in various countries- the darkness beyond filled with very real predators and unseen mythical demons. In a fire you have ever changing paintings, imagination stimulation, a truth meter, and a mind enhancer all in one go. Before the TV, films, and the Internet it was the nightly fire that entertained the masses sitting around it- the original birthplace/meaning of community- and I can honestly say I've never been bored staring into the flames. Dragons, goblins, monsters, wizards, witches... all have their origins here.

Fire is a living creature... a comforting friend, like this, in a bothy.... or a raging monster in an out of control inferno... (the partial origin of the dragon myth perhaps,  a great beast, ravaging the land.) Like a friendship it needs to be tended....to be watched... otherwise it goes out. Feed it and it rewards you with heat and pleasure. A modern, steady gas flame fire is not quite the same. You need the impurities in the coal and wood to get the visions and images, the crackles and sparks. A perfect fish head above. No trickery involved. Just the flames at work.

The Dawn of Humanity. What this complex image conjured up to me anyway. The magic of the flames. In 20 years of the visual internet it has changed peoples outlook and general mentality a great deal- a major influence on the human race already....but think of what flame pictures and imagination combined have achieved and created over many thousands of years. The humble fire may well have been humanity's greatest creative influence and partner in otherwise hard brutal lives. Beowulf to Burns ...Baudelaire to Byron....vampire to werewolf... it all started here... gazing into the flames and telling stories to each other of the savage monsters or mysterious wonders lurking outside the door.

A few flickering candles complete the scene.

The bothy in daylight.

The water world of bog, moor and deep rivers on the journey back out, all ice and snow now melted away.

John and Gavin walking out.

Rain starting. A wet Gavin on the land rover track.

Reaching the car. Raining again in what has been a very mild, wet winter so far. But a cracking bothy trip. Made even more enjoyable by a waist deep struggle to survive in a half frozen swamp.