Ralph Storer talks about his award-winning history of Corrour Bothy

His book combines meticulous research with all those first-person accounts, relating how over the years, the original earth-floored, leaky-roofed building was renovated by volunteers from the Cairngorm Club and Mountain Bothy Association. As a result, it now offers such luxuries as floorboards, a composting toilet and a footbridge over the River Dee, which earlier visitors had to ford – sometimes, with fatal results. 
Improved access has its downside, however. “There have been incidents of revellers going out there for the weekend to have a drunken Saturday night and turning away bona fide walkers, who’ve been afraid to go in,” says Storer. Yet the bothy remains a vital resource. He describes it as “a refuge in the wilderness for anybody at any time”, which “comes into its own in winter, when you really do need shelter”.
In fact, Corrour Bothy probably saved his own life during a winter walk in 1983, after he and his girlfriend found themselves floundering in a blizzard that destroyed their tent and drove a disoriented Storer into a wall of snow. The bothy, he recalls, “was dirty, crowded and uncomfortable that night, but, like many before us, never had we less cause for complaint. We spread the tattered remains of our tent down on the earth floor in a dank corner and snuggled gratefully into sleeping bags”.
An out-of-season stay is not for the faint-hearted. “It’s a very cold place,” says Storer. “In winter you need to treat it like you would a tent, with a warm sleeping bag and so on. The sleeping platform will take two at a push – most people end up sleeping on the floor. I think the maximum the bothy has ever taken was 20 people on a cold winter’s night.” 
Early bothy-users went to bizarre lengths to fuel the fire. Over the years, floorboards, bunk beds, even the door were burnt and pages from visitors’ books used as kindling. Others were nibbled by mice, ravaged by damp or simply went AWOL. Indeed, whole volumes have been lost, including those from the period immediately following the Second World War and Storer feels sad that, although the 1939-45 logbooks contain entries from soldiers on leave, we may never know if they made it home. 
Surviving visitor books are stored among Dundee University’s archives and together, this mismatched array of pencilled jotters and ink-blotted journals constitute a precious resource. Leafing through those fragile pages, Storer is transported back to the early days of bothying and to long, dark nights spent huddled around Corrour’s warming fire, revelling in “the conviviality of companions, the kindness of strangers and the irresistible pull of the wilds”.

Into the winter’s joy: some entries from Corrour Bothy’s visitors' books

From the Corrour Bothy visitors' book, 1958 (Copyright)

Spent one of the coldest nights in history doing physical jerks in an attempt to get defrosted. Awoke to find boots solid and socks like cast iron, but with stove going full blast we soon toasted them back to life … Attempted to climb first gully in Glen Geusachan on Devil’s Point but were stopped by a somewhat precipitous cornice. Jim Cruikshank, 27 December 1965

Last night a horrible tragedy occurred – (Ken) Grassick sat on one of the mice and killed it. Its piteously flattened body was cremated in the fireplace. A Graham Nicol, 30 December 1952

09.30. Somebody has managed to force the door open with an ice axe. Suppose we shall now have to get up. (I believe this is what is called an Alpine start). 30 December 1982

Arrived here 3.20pm after a 4 hours tramp in the snow. Found the bothy in an abominable state, with the bunk smashed and mighty little of the flooring left. Dug some roots out of the bog by the river and got a good fire going. 1 January 1929

At the moment there are 5 of us, but the weakest will probably succumb before morning and the bodies will make fine seats and provide food for the survivors. 1 January 1939

A HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL WHO PASS THIS WAY, WHETHER THEY BE HIKERS, CLIMBERS OR SANE PERSONS 1 January 1939

A party of honest men sat up all night, reciting incantations, breathing mystic profanities and creating a ghostly atmosphere, but no ghosts appeared. Bottled spirits alone were in evidence but alas! They too are gone and nothing remains but crapulence and scepticism. Cairngorm ghosts, 2 January 1937

LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF A & J MUIR

On looking out of the bothy this morning we find it has been a blizzard all night. There are very deep drifts of snow on every side. Methinks we’d better gather more wood and hibernate. A Muir, 2 January 1939

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 January 1940

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. The “Old Boys” are suffering with burned knees. Phew! Jimmie Wyne (Creagh Dhu), 5 January 1938

A 1936 entry from the Corrour Bothy Visitors' Books (copyright)

You will be pleased to know that the mouse is alive and well, which is not surprising considering the amount of our food he eats. He also seems to have been provided with “bovver” boots, with which he tramps over us in the night. [The following day] The mouse had a hungry night last night as we hung all the food from the ceiling, but we are leaving him some bacon fat and Quaker oats. Robin Thomas, February 1971

Full of the joys of winter! A starlit start through the squeaking powder of Lairig Ghru. The dawn catching the tops of the valleys full of mist below. Stomping a trail through the wind-smoothed drifts. Drawn to the temptations of the ice-rimmed Pools of Dee then a stride down to this glorious wee shelter for lunch and a nap. Onward onward into the winter’s joy. What a world!  Tom, 12 February 2016

Corrour Bothy: A Refuge in the Wilderness by Ralph Storer is published by Luath Press, £10.99