Biking the Cairngorms 360: Mud, Mountains and Movie Sets
June 09, 2025Getting lost in a bog in the Scottish Highlands is never fun. It’s even worse if you’re bikepacking.
Hauling the bike over tussock grass whilst trying to avoid falling into the oozing black bog that surrounded me wasn’t part of the plan. I had to admit it; I had lost the path. I could see where I needed to get to – a lovely, easily rideable track only a couple of hundred meters away – but unfortunately it was down an almost vertical 20-metre drop and across a river. If I’d just been out walking this wouldn’t have been a big problem, but I had a fully loaded mountain bike.
Looking up and down the valley I simply couldn't work out how to get there. I couldn't even find a sheep track down the steep drop, so I set off pushing (but mostly lifting) my bike over the tussocky mounds and through the bog. After fifteen minutes I looked back, still wondering what to do. From this vantage point I could make out a very narrow path cutting across the drop. Heading back the way I had come, I eventually made it. Carefully balancing my bike and its heavy load on the narrow track, I trudged through the heather down to the river. Wading the river on foot, holding my bike upright as best I could, I was soon back on route and heading downhill, very happy to be on my way again.
This proved to be one of the more testing moments on the Cairngorms 360 cycle route; an unmarked, mostly off-road circuit that takes you through the wilderness of the biggest national park in the UK. I enjoy solo bikepacking; stopping when I want to, taking photographs without wondering if a companion wants to get moving again when all I want to do is take it easy and look at the scenery. But equally, travelling alone in wild places means being much more cautious. I set off from Ballater, a lovely small town on Royal Deeside, 40 miles east of Aberdeen, wondering if I had taken on more than was good for me.
Into the wild
The first couple of miles followed the Deeside Way through dense woodland. The sky was dull and overcast, threatening rain. A couple of fellow bikepackers passed me, and we acknowledged each other with a friendly nod and a 'good morning'. The sun finally came out and an hour or so after setting off I was tackling the first long off-road stretch of my route. It is possible to ride for miles in the Cairngorms without seeing a living soul, but you will certainly experience plenty of countryside. Accompanied by the call of lapwings and curlew, the open and expansive landscape was wonderful.
It was a tough introduction to the trail though, so it was with great relief that I arrived in Tomintoul, the highest village in the Scottish Highlands and my first overnight stop. In discussion with the waitress in the restaurant where I had my evening meal, she revealed how remote it was. "It's really cut off here for young people. We only have three buses a week," she told me. "I want to learn to drive, but instructors are reluctant to come out this far". It put a new perspective on a village that seemed like the perfect place to escape. With three hotels, it's undoubtedly a very good place to base yourself if you want to explore the Highlands - but living here full-time must be considerably tougher.
It was a bright but overcast morning for the start of day two, which would be my longest ride of the trip. Looking across to the River Avon below me, I spotted hares running in the fields and could hear the pee-wit songs of lapwing. I was in very good spirits, but I knew what lay ahead. After all, I was starting the day from the Highlands' highest village, which meant there was only one way to go, and that was down. A clear view of the road confirmed what the map was telling me. After an enjoyable descent into a deep river valley, the climb out again was both long and very steep - a 16% gradient in places. Inevitably at this point the sun came out, which made it a real slog. I was pleased that I manage to ride it all.
After a drink and an energy bar I set off again, with panoramic views of the Cairngorm mountains all around me. Unfortunately, the pleasure was somewhat spoiled when fifteen Maseratis sped past me, only to return five minutes later. It's not much fun cycling on a racetrack.
The long descent into Granton-on-Spey improved my mood and of course, coffee helped too. From here on it was off-road to Aviemore and beyond, along the Speyside Way. It's a well-maintained track and virtually flat all the way. The going was easy, the sun was shining, and the skylarks were singing. This for me is why I love cycling, particularly off road. When it all just comes together, life is wonderful.
By the time I arrived In Aviemore I needed another break. For some reason it seemed all the cafés closed at 4pm. I found one eventually but could only justify spending half an hour dallying over coffee and cake. I still had 18km to go. It was after 6pm when I arrived in Kingshouse and I was so pleased to be at my B&B, with more than 70km behind me, my longest ride of the trip - but far from my most challenging, as I would discover the next day.
I awoke to the wonderful sensation of sun shining through the windows, only to realise that my legs were still aching from the previous day. Reassuring myself that the stiffness would go once I got moving, I eased myself out of bed. With a full Scottish breakfast inside me, I was keen to get going on what I anticipated would be a challenging day. I wasn't sure exactly what to expect on the 56km route through Glen Tromie. The map showed about 27km of steady uphill along a reasonable track up to a loch, with a small singletrack footpath along its side, then a rough descent into Blair Atholl, where I would spend my third night.
Unexpected company
After just a few miles I stopped to get some photos and video of Ruthven barracks, built in the early 1700s after the failed Jacobite uprising. With my drone safely packed away I turned off the tarmac and headed for the glen. A man sitting in his car glanced at me as I passed. Strangely, there was a portaloo next to the car - an odd thing to see in the middle of such sparsely populated countryside. It was a lovely ride up the river valley, on a much better track than I had anticipated.
After five miles, I saw a woman, also sat in her car. She looked up as I approached. I rode over and started a conversation through the car window. She said she was monitoring the traffic: "It's going to get busy this afternoon if you're coming back this way." She obviously wasn't going to explain why this lonely gravel track in a remote Scottish glen was about to become a busy highway, so I carried on, my brain trying to guess what was going on up ahead.
I pulled over to let a van go past. A company logo with the words 'shooting services' was plastered on the side. Finally, I twigged, and it wasn't deerstalking services that the van was helping with. A helicopter with a big camera attached parked beside the loch and a line of articulated off-road lorries emblazoned with the words 'Movie Makers' finally confirmed my suspicions.
A mile or so further on, my way was blocked by around a hundred members of a film crew. "Hang on a minute - I'll just check they've finished the shoot. Yes, it's okay, carry on!" A conversation rattled through two-way radios allowed me to proceed. Pushing my bike, a loaded pick-up truck went past, carrying the paraphernalia of a major movie set. A line of massive tripods and lighting stands were being slowly pushed along the track. I lost count of the number of cameras.
"This wasn't quite what you were expecting on your ride today, eh?" one cheerful crewmember asked me as he guided me through. A little further on I got into conversation with another crewmember. "This is a crap film", he told me, "But people will go and watch it!" His comments were repeated a little while later by another member. I tried, in vain of course, to find out what film they were shooting. Judging by the set it looked fantasy-based, so I reckon it may have been the big -budget remake of the 1986 film Highlander, which was slated to be shot in Scotland this year, starring Henry Cavill.
Within a few hundred metres of passing the film set, the track deteriorated, so I dismounted again to push my loaded bike up a very rough bouldery section. With peace restored and knowing I was within a few miles of the highest point on my route I stopped to eat. Tranquillity at last.
The hard way home
It was a relief to reach Loch an Duin knowing it was the highest point on my route, but I soon discovered that the tiny path had a steep drop on one side. If I got it wrong, I could end up in the loch with the bike on top of me, so I carefully walked and pushed along the track for 45 minutes. Finally jumping on the bike and heading downhill, I found myself in a bog, having totally lost the track. Half an hour later, lifting the bike over tussocks and mud-filled pools, I finally made it across the river and headed on down the valley to Blair Atholl and a very comfortable hotel.
Every day it seemed I had been cycling into a headwind. As I was now three-quarters of the way around the circuit, I was beginning to wonder if I was jinxed. I had an early coffee stop in Pitlochry the next day. I wasn't looking forward to the very steep and long road heading north. Finally, just when I needed it most, the wind got behind me, and I managed the 380m climb to the top. After yet another wonderful descent in bright sunny weather, I lost most of the height I had climbed, only to face an off-road, uphill track to climb back up to 650m.
One more overnight and yet another lovely hotel in the Spittal of Glenshee and my last day had arrived. Another steep and long uphill ride found me at Glenshee ski centre and my most anticipated cup of coffee ever. On the long descent into Braemar I finally saw a golden eagle and pulled over to watch it soar across the glen, idly wondering if it was hunting for cyclists who failed to make it to the top.
A couple of hours later I was back in Ballater, right back where I had started. I felt sorry that the trip was over. It had been a classic Highlands adventure. In Scotland you can never predict the weather, but when the sun shines and the weather is with you there really is no better place to get on your bike.