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Bothy Extracts

MOUNTAIN HUTS ARE a feature of many of the world’s mountain ranges, but Scottish Highland bothies are unique. A tumultuous history, punctuated with famines and forced evictions, saw the Highlands cleared of people in the 18th and 19th centuries, and this left countless habitations to go to ruin. Some of these have been converted into ‘bothies’ to provide basic shelter in the wilds.

None provide more than Spartan refuge but they can also save lives. In a roaring Cairngorms blizzard that ripped our tent wide open, Judith and I would have been in a parlous situation had not Corrour Bothy come to our rescue. It was dirty, packed and uncomfortable that night, but never had we less cause for complaint.

Fading logbooks, dating back to the early 20th century, give an insight into the esteem in which the old bothy, now renovated, was held. Entries these days tend to be of the ‘Kilroy was here’ variety. In former times, when the remote Cairngorms attracted a more select and committed group of aficionados, entries tended to be more poetic, more amusing and more enthused with ‘the spirit of the hills’. They evoke a time when, before the explosion of outdoor pursuits in the past half-century, and the advent of easy access and modern gear, being in the hills was a more deeply appreciated privilege.

Here are some examples taken from the old Corrour Bothy logbooks, now tattered and torn, written by anonymous authors long gone. Many thanks to all of them. May their spirit never be forgotten.

Magnificent scenery, enchanting mists – and soaking rain. What scenery, what weather! What pleasures can match those of the unorthodox insanities of the lovers of the high places, the magnificent madness of the mountaineer? Yet thousands hit a pill across a park or tup a hollow rubber sphere across a net and call it sport! Ye Gods! (21/7/30)

Met report: 17/10 cloud. Visibility: 0. Epicentre of earthquake half a mile up the glen. Avalanches and landslides intermittent. Water vapour content of air: 93 per cent. Wind velocity: 104mph, with gusts rising to 148mph. 3cwt boulders blowing down the glen make walking difficult. (6/8/51)

There was a young lady of Ballater

Who went for a dip in Loch Callater

Her natatory prowess

She started to showess

Then up came a monster and Swallater. (24/9/38)

In the true tradition of the nature reserve, we gave protection to approximately 50 per cent of Scotland’s midges last night. (18/8/66)

There is sure no place like this… this side of hell. (19/9/31)

Time on our hands led to experiments in cooking. Hit on the following recipe:

Half tin corned beef

Half tin baked beans (small)

Mash up well together. Add quarter cup water with third cup Oxo. Add oatmeal until fairly stiff and fry the whole damned issue in plenty of fat. Then dig a hole at a safe distance from the bothy and bury the lot. (8/8/39)

Back once more to Corrour, which I find silent and empty. Alone I sit beside the fire and my thoughts shift over the hills. Few realise how many more things one sees and hears in the hills, alone. The wind is rising, so I close tightly both doors and replenish the dying fire. The candles burn brightly while outside black night courses on. (19/10/30)

Bothy life

To come from the white-clad slopes of our beloved hills, having drunk deep at the well of knowledge and beauty… And sit by the fire till the spirit of the bothy enshrines itself round our hearts… To feel that we have worked and our wages are taken. And to sink into peaceful slumber in some place like this… And know that we are not dead. (3/1/31)

Alone I climb

The rugged hills that lead me out of time. (26/8/28)

For go I must

But come I must

And if men ask you why,

You may put the blame

On the stars and the sun

And the dark hills and the sky. (22/9/30)

At the moment there are five of us, but the weakest will probably succumb before morning and the bodies will make fine seats and provide food for the survivors. (1/1/39)

Pity we can’t stay another day, when the scarf Bill is knitting would be big enough to re-roof the bothy. (25/9/39)

No sunshine falls on the bothy walls,

Nought but the wind and rain,

But our spirits soar as the Primi roar,

For we’ll soon have dinner again. (6/8/28)

Having eventually got a magnificent fire going, a Czechoslovakian gentleman of unknown parentage set about extinguishing it by drying all his gear. (4/8/66)

Tonight we have a fire. A magnificent fire. In its fiercest moments it has driven us to the back of the bothy. Even Jim, the Asbestos Wonder, was driven before its power. Shirts have been abandoned and even the door has been opened to temper the boiler-room atmosphere. Phew! (5/1/38)

Wanted – Haggis Beaters. Assemble on top of Cairn Toul at 2am to be issued with orders. Prospective beaters should be able to hit a haggis at 40 yards with a loaded kilt. (20/8/66)

Oh for a minister to save my sole,

It’s parting company with my boot. (18/7/38)

HOWF RAL OVR FRAM HOWF ALSES FAM

HOWF AST HOWF LEIT OVR DAIE

HOWF IXED OVR FYTE IN FUTVR STATE

HOWF EW CYM BAC 2 SAIE. (19/9/31)

Best of luck and a safe return from the war to all those mountaineers who are forced to go and fight on either side (4/1/40)

Came over the pass today with a Londoner who told me in course of conversation that the Lairig Ghru is the finest pass in England. He made several remarks equally blasphemous and was lucky to get past this place alive. (30/5/39)

There was a young lady from Spain,

Who when climbing the Cairngorms in rain,

Would first climb the peaks

Than strip off her breeks,

And shout ‘I’m insane, I’m insane’. (14/8/56)

We think we may have climbed Ben Macdui but, owing to the atmospheric conditions, hell knows where we’ve been. (1/9/39)

I was chased by a bogey all the way from the highest summit of Braeriach down to the Lairig where I think it lost me among the boulders. It was a horrid grey thing and it really made me frightened. I am serious and shivering with fright. (25/7/55)

Just passing through… The Grey Man (15/9/58)

Please leave a Christmas dinner for the mice. They are very friendly. (25/12/52)

It occurs to me that Corrour will provide future archaeologists with a unique opportunity for discovering long-lost facts concerning the twentieth century: ‘Today we dug up from the floor of Corrour ruin an ice axe head circa 1960’. (21/5/66)

Back again. Good Heavens. Swore I would never come here again. Wet clothes. Sore feet. What a life! (5/5/40)