ROYAL DEESIDE WAY

As you get older you have to work harder to maintain your fitness. Actually, regardless of age, you need to put the work in. But for the past two months I've hardly moved from in front of the computer, putting together my new film academy for kids, seven days a week, and as a result my fitness has plummeted. To add to that my trousers no longer need a belt.

But above all I needed a break, and despite the expanding waistline, and maybe partly because of it, I turned to my ever reliable friend Pauline to organise a three day cycle trip.

Public transport is not always conducive to accessing some of the harder to reach places, so a while back I invested in roof-top cycle racks for the car and put them to good use last weekend on a two night foray to Aboyne on Royal Deeside.

We decided to have a wee bit of a luxury break and set ourselves up with our tent in a campsite just outside Aboyne village. And we even packed a fold up table and chairs! Well, you never know when you might come across a layby that beckons for a tea stop!

It was a joy to be able to cycle without any heavy gear, and late Saturday afternoon we set off west out of Aboyne on the back roads to Glen Tanar National Nature Reserve, just inside the Cairngorms National park. Just a short ride there and back, but my legs were already complaining.

Glen Tanar has been owned and run by the Coats family since 1905, and it is a spectacular glen, with its entrance marked by the Tower of Ess, a 3 storey, square-plan folly tower.

Just a short distance in was a small church, peaceful and silent, before our track up the glen toward the old pinewoods. On this occasion we didn't venture far, but it was enough of a taste to want to return in the future.

On Sunday we set our sights on reaching Peterculter, a small village 40km east of Aboyne toward Aberdeen. For the most part we were on good track, either old railway routes, walking paths or forest trail, following the route of the Deeside Way. One section was pretty steep, and as Pauline powered up it as if it weren't there, I stepped off my bike and pushed, such was the appalling level of my strength and fitness.

As we passed through deep woods the track weaved its way through vivid yellow blossoms festooning every gorse bush in sight, with the smell of coconut hanging in the air. It was at this point that we came across what seemed to be one or two walkers on the Kilt Walk, a sponsored event that takes place several times in different areas over the year in aid of various charities.

Having passed through Banchory, our halfway stage, I noticed we had the company of an old railway line. There hasn't be a service here since the 1960s thanks to Dr Beeching, but these rails had a polished top surface. Something was running on them regularly.

Within a short distance we came upon the tell tale plume of smoke from a steam trains boiler fire, and stopped a while to admire the small steam engine, lovingly restored by local volunteers and enthusiasts.

A few kilometers beyond Banchory, on a narrow path section, we hit a wall of walkers. It started with just the odd one or two, which grew literally into several hundred! We had no idea this event was taking place, and it became obvious our plan was scuppered, so we took the first opportunity to get off the path and turn back. It was a shame, but more to explore on a future trip I guess.

That evening we had a real treat; on the pond that the campsite borders on were a family of swans.

Six very young signets and their parents thought nothing of wandering up out of the water and taking a stroll around the camp ground. The Sunday night was a lot quieter, and I think the swans knew this. Several times in the evening they would wander by, surveying their kingdom, picking up the odd scrap of food left by campers.

On Monday, sure in the knowledge there were no more walking events, we turned our bikes west and set out for Ballater, following the Deeside Way to its starting point.

For me this was the best day. Maybe because of the lack of people I guess, but there was something great about the long straight stretches of old railway track disappearing off into the distance, through tall standing forests of pine and birch, that made it a lot of fun, tracks that my American friends would call "Rails to Trails", which I think we should adopt.

Occasionally we would come across an old platform, mostly overgrown and crumbling, but at one such old station the building was still there, lovingly preserved, presumably as a bolt hole for some lucky person.

After what seemed a very short time, we pulled into Ballater, which surprisingly was a first for me. The train came to an end at a construction site, which turned out to be the ongoing renovation of the old railway station building, soon to open as a museum, complete with a restored Queens Carriage. Again, another reason to return.

To add variety to our return journey, about halfway back to Aboyne we detoured to Muir of Dinnet Nature Reserve. It was to be a brief visit, but we were there to see a particular natural phenomenon called Burn O'Vat. About 16,000 years ago this entire area was covered in ice kilometers deep.

As it started to melt a relentless torrent of water cascaded down the gorges, and in one particular place it slowly, over 2,000 years, the debris carried downstream began to carve out this enormous cauldron.

Gradually the base filled with silt, so only half of it is now visible, but it was an incredible site, like some vast open cave, with perfectly smooth curved openings on either side, each some 15m wide.

With this whole area offering so much in diversity I know we will return. I just have to work on that fitness. Maybe I should get an exercise bike?

Oh, wait, I have one!