Nils takes an unusual packing list to the mountains for an overnight adventure.

WORDS & PHOTOGRAPHY NILS AMELINCKX

I fumbled around in the last of the light, the cold breeze having stripped my hands of any dexterity, keeping a watchful eye over the waste bag in front of me as it danced playfully in the wind. Although I could probably remove this bag blindfold, I found myself completely engrossed in the process, my eyes having to steer the movement of my insensate fingers.

After all, this bag’s contents aren’t something you would want to inadvertently spill…

We were setting up camp adjacent to Loch Etchachan, tucked into the folds of Ben Macdui, nestling just shy of 950 metres above sea level. The soft rays of the setting sun occasionally pierced the otherwise ominous cloud base as it periodically lowered enough to fill the surrounding valleys – the changeable conditions serving as a reminder of Scotland’s notoriously fickle weather. It was about ten hours since we’d left the ski paradise that is Cairngorm Mountain, spared the habitual sleet-filled gales and sheet ice for which the resort is most passionately known. Luckily the area’s defining conditions subsided to give way to blue skies filled with benign puffy clouds and a gentle breeze to ensure we didn’t overheat instead. Too early in the season for any midges and borderline dusty underfoot, this was Scotland at its finest.

Packing list paranoia

Our plan was simple: we would traverse from Aviemore in the direction of Braemar, along the way ticking off Ben Macdui (the UK’s second highest mountain) – its summit opens up to one of the longest continuous descents in the country. Weather permitting, we’d bivvy in the mountains and start our return journey with a spicy boulder-strewn trail for breakfast, perhaps accompanied by the golden light of the rising sun. In case of more inclement weather, we would have the less favourable option of spending the night in the Hutchinson Memorial Hut to be lulled to sleep by the thrilling tales of exuberant Munro baggers as they dried their wool socks.

As we slowly ground our way up the switchbacks towards Cairngorm Mountain resort, my legs felt heavy with unease.

This weekend’s journey would be a first of sorts, having not been on a multi-day bike journey nor having slept in a bivvy bag since undergoing life-changing surgery. A few years ago I’d have taken to this adventure with a degree of nonchalance – there weren’t many things that would hold the power to halt my progress if they were missing from my carefully packed bikepacking bags. This time I would simply have to be resourceful, even if that meant a degree of suffering.

I found my subconscious mind repeatedly running through my packing list. The omission of some key items would have meant not even leaving the starting blocks.

Codeine? Check. Anti-diarrheal medication? Yup. Hydration salts? Check. Sun cream? Oh… With a bit of luck they’d have some at the lift station given that my daily dose of antibiotics means my skin and the sun no longer get on. Energy levels?

Despite the kind people at MTB Monster providing me with an additional battery for this journey, I wasn’t sure if my own energy levels could match the bike’s turbo-charged range.