Ballater - Glen Muick - Lochnagar - Invercauld - Glen Quoich -Derry Lodge - Loch Etchachan - Loch Avon - Lairig an Laoigh - Glenmore - Aviemore
At a tearoom somewhere in deepest Ballater the friendly waitress greeted us with: “Had a good week?” We replied: “No, we’re just starting.” We have to give her full credit, she did try very hard to mask her pitying smile but we saw it. It was mining hard and had been for some time. As we travelled from Aberdeen on the bus that morning we thought we saw brightness around the next corner but we never found it. So we made a damp entrance.
After some hot refreshment and last minute stodge we set off at 12:10 hours and tramped along the main street towards the bridge over the Dee. There weren’t too many people to wish us ‘Bon Voyage’. They were indoors avoiding the rain. Soft or sensible?
Interesting to note what Queen Victoria said when she opened the bridge – “Long may it stand”. We proved that it was still standing by crossing over to the South side.
We passed by some enthusiastic tourists along the road on the south side of the river and turned up the access road to Glen Muick. We wondered how wet we might get: wet, very wet or highland wet?
It was more than cold enough as we crossed over to the west side of the valley near Birkhall (Charlie’s hideaway) and made our way through the steadily dampening drizzle along the tracks. Colin had his first photo call when we discovered the Falls of Muick and then further up Glen Muick, at 16:10 hours we hid amongst the wet and cold trees across the other side from the visitor centre, at Allt na-giubhsaich, to have our tea.
“I say old chap”, said Colin, “not many people here to disturb our tea?” “No they have all been sensible and gone home”, David replied. “You didn’t tell anyone that we were coming?” asked Colin.
After a short respite we tramped up the track to Lochnagar - it has always been rubble strewn but the path builders have recently made a good job of it and it’s now so much easier. Good! We passed the turning to Jacob’s Ladder - we assume it is still there - we couldn’t see it as the low cloud was right down on the ground. Unfortunately we were also denied the pleasure of seeing Lochnagar’s ‘frowning glories’ but we did see them from a great distance later during the weekend and so we assume that they too are still there.
We made good speed along the track northwards down across open moorland, through the mist and rain, and by way of a pleasant open bothy in Feith an Laoigh. The open moorland gave way to a lightly wooded area which sheltered us from the winds. At 21:20 hours we stopped to pitch our tent in the soaking wet woods above Connachat Cottage. In the damp evening light the mosses in the woods had a slightly iridescent glow to them. Although it made them seem interesting and enticing it also told us they were within easy reach of copious amounts or water.
Now the fun really started. David had brought his new lightweight ‘all-singing and all-dancing’ micra tent. We soon found that it’s not really made for two middle-aged bodies with large rucksacks in the pouring rain. Getting into to it and not getting everything wet in the process (so we thought) resulted in a few grunting moments and we nearly brought it down - after having fought with it to get pitched. The tent has two sets of double doors and each door has double zips (eight zips just to get in!), various loops and pockets and tensioners — but why not dispense with some of that stuff and give us a little more height? The designers should try out their tents for themselves, only then they would understand our concerns.
Eventually we got ourselves organised and settled down for a wet and cold night.
25.5 kilometres had taken 9 hours 10 minutes and we had seen curlews, black backed gulls, deer, hares, a shrew, and some silly grouse (what silly birds they are - no wonder they get shot!). Colin’s new waterproof had kept him dry (modern technology — it’s wonderful stuff) and we both had new boots, which had done well.
It was cold and wet — in the tent.
The misty, damp atmosphere had created extensive condensation in our wee tent and as we couldn’t avoid touching the inner tent it was wet. We were wet everywhere — it was an ‘orrible soggy mess. It was colder but a bit better outside - it took us a chilly hour to strike camp. We moved off at 08:45 hours and soon passed a striking memorial to the Earl of Moray opposite Connachat Cottage. As we passed the Cottage Colin asked one of the occupants for an update on the weather. “Well it might rain but then again it might not” was the comment. “Humm, sounds like a Highlander’s reply” said Colin as we headed along the road.
Further on through the trees appeared Queen Victoria’s clean white suspension bridge. We had a seat by the suspension bridge across the Dee but only after giving it a once over – that the problem with two engineers, never trusting any device until it is deemed functional and safe. Then we gave a cheery wave to the people at the other side who were barred by a locked gate (F & M notices again!) on the bridge.
Again the enquiring mind of the engineer came out in them – “Err – you’re not infected or bitten any sheep recently” was the inquiry. “No, not that I know of, old chap” was the reply. “Oh that’s all right” was the conclusion, and with that they both shouldered their packs, passed Garbh and headed west along the path.
We found an excellent viewpoint on the centre of the old Brig o’ Dee, just down river from the new bridge, at 11:15 hours. Now we could see Lochnagar. It was still cool and grey but much clearer. A good walk through the estate from Keiloch brought us along the north side of the river to view the backside of Braemar. The area was strangely unkempt — we had half expected to come across some good residences or farms along the north side. After passing a run down farm (it could do with a tidy up) we turned into Linn of Quoich, where the National Trust are doing their ‘bit’ for the tourists.
After a wee siesta on the grass (we didn’t even unstrap our rucksacks) we joined the tourists at the Punch Bowl at about 15:00 hours. It was surprising to see a footbridge built by Scotrail volunteers -- it wasn’t late or dirty.
It was bright warm and sunny as we progressed up Glen Quoich, we even saw blue sky. We climbed up and through the pleasant little glen, Clais Thearnaig, down into Glen Lui and to Glen Derry. At 20:00 hours we arrived to camp amongst the trees at Deny Ledge. It was cold, clear and a bit grey and there were just a few other campers about, including a couple in a small tent with a huge dog - the mind boggles.
24 kilometres had taken 11 hours 15 minutes — we bad seen deer, stags, rabbits, hares, chaffinches (very forward at Deny Lodge), gulls, curlews and sheep.
Again we had a bright but very chilly start, almost like April, but at it least it was a bit drier this morning. At 08:45 hours we set off up Glen Derry and we were soon hit by strong cold northerly head winds which brought us blustery showers. At the Derry waterfall, we enjoyed plenty of bright sunshine and strongly coloured rainbows at the southern end of Glen Derry but at the head of the glen it was dark, grey and wet and covered with low cloud, we approached it with growing disappointment.
We met three walkers who had stayed overnight at the Hutchison Hut and although they had some rough weather they suggested that we might get some clear weather up on the high plateau.
Fingers crossed, we moved on up, passed Derry Cairngorm and at 11:35 hours we trekked up Coire Etchachan to the Hutchison Hut. The hut was resplendent with a new timber floor and concrete threshold that replaced the mud floor —what luxury. It was showery and the hut filled up with sweaty bodies so we moved on up the partly rebuilt path to Loch Etchachan. We enjoyed some hailstones but also great views of Ben Macdhui and rows of hills to the east.
It was cold and we decided not to bother climbing cloudy snowy Ben Macdhui, instead passing Loch Etchachan went up onto the shoulder of Stob Coire Etchachan to ‘phone home and enjoy the great views.
At 14:45 hours we took the north path over the bealach to the west end of Loch Avon. We took a tea break on the north-east shoulder of Cam Etchachan and gawped at the jewel which is at the ‘Heart of the Cairngorms’. Rugged and spectacular grandeur. We were pleased that you have to make a serious mountain walk to see the beauty of Loch Avon (no cars and caravans spoiling this view!) - fortune really favours the brave.
At 16:05 hours we dropped down to the western shore of the loch amongst a jumble of rock. Some garden the ‘big yin’ has here — the water feature was so big that the return pump must be huge and his pea gravel was incredible with some pieces weighing 500 tonnes. Looking up at the Shelter Stone Crag we could see crags where rock had recently split off— what a way to go, squashed from a great height. We couldn’t cross the burn at the ford near the loch so we had to take a tiresome clambering diversion upstream to find a crossing place and this took us about thirty minutes. We were fortunate that it wasn’t the wet season. We got onto the start of the path along the north side of the loch — it was quite rough and our feet got a bit of a ‘bashing’. The path soon became tiresome and tiring and we made poor progress. However, we were in the ‘Heart of the Cairngorms’ and ‘being there’ was truly wonderful. Feel that cold wind in your hair (if you’ve got any)! It was grand in every sense of the word.
We arrived at the Refuge Hut at the Fords of Avon at about 19:45 hours. It had been rebuilt in 1970 and was really warm because of its rubble stone outer walls and turf roof but only had boulders for ‘chairs’. Is eighteenth century accommodation ‘de rigeur’ for bothies? Once again we felt that real sense of ‘being there’ as we stood at one of the well known historic cross-roads of the highlands. We drunk in the open views in all directions — what a wild place this must be in the winter snows.
Although it was getting late we decided to plod on, hoping to make the next day a bit easier. We trundled alongside the Allt Dearg using another rough path into the Glen of the Glassath. Passing Lochan a’ Bhamnne (small loch of the milk!) and over the watershed we dropped down to cross the burn at the Corrie of the Barns below the Barns of Bynack. At about 21:00 hours we were ‘finished’ and we camped on the north-east shoulder of Bynack More at grid ref 053060. The grid ref is important — if you go to that spot you will see that it is all lumpy boggy heather and a flat camp site is impossible. We didn’t find a good place to pitch the tent but it was fairly dryish (well it was for this area) and near the path. Colin had a ‘hard bit’ and David had ‘lump’ that kept him sliding down the hill into a heap at the bottom of the tent.
18 kilometres in 12 hours 15 minutes, we enjoyed all four seasons today and saw some ptarmigan.
After a sleepless night ‘on the move’ David emerged into bright sunlight at 06:00 hours.
There wasn’t a cloud in sight. The sky was brightly blue and the hillsides were a strong green in the sun. The tent was covered in frost. It was sharp and brilliant and beautiful. You had to be there! (and we were)
We carefully cleared up and by 07:25 hours we were on our way, we soon passed over the shoulder of the hill. We crossed the boundary peat of Coire Odhar and climbed out of what turned out to be a surprisingly deep corrie. Colin stopped for water supplies at another green ford and got some extra meat in his drink.
The sandy path now eased out across the side of the hill and we bobbed along quite cheerily. Fabulous open views were on all sides — no camera could possibly pick up the feeling of it all. The Moray coast in the north, the Braes of Abernethy, round to Tomintoul and the eastern hills. Colin said it was great to have dry socks — could it get any better?
As it warmed up some cloud bubbled up over the coastal fringes at 08:30 hours and at 09:00 hours some cloud appeared over the Cairngorms. So what! We could see the Torridon Mountains, still with snowy spots on the tops. Near at hand a silly grouse reminded us to look at where we were going. Bhuachaille before us we dropping down a rubble strewn path then called in at Bynack Stable - no horses, but only Spartan accommodation for bad weather.
Passed Strath Nethy, it was pleasantly warm as marched on down the rough track, passing a cadet corps out training with heavy kit - it would have been interesting to see them keep in step on the rubble strewn track! It started to get ‘busy’ in this area as we passed Ryvoan Bothy and Creag Loisgie, as we traipsed along the track past the green loch to civilisation. It was nice and warm as we rested on the wall in front of Glenmore Lodge at 11:32 hours. We then went for a welcome feed in the visitor centre an was allowed to depart via the Fire Exit rather than demolish the shop with our back packs and soil the carpets with our boots. Our powerful unkempt sweaty bodies, bristling with energy also seemed to have an affect on the visitors……..
It was about 18 degrees C now, when we started this morning it was about 2 degrees C! After a slightly tiresome walk along the busy road, passed Loch Mortich, over the river Spey at Inverdruie, we arrived in Aviemore at 16:10 hours and enjoyed a celebratory coffee (Colin had a chocolate nut sundae and David had a caramel doughnut). Here we were lounging in a familiar coffee shop where we had terminated a number of other walks and once again we had enjoyed ourselves and another small part of the great country side of Scotland. We are truly lucky to live in such a wonderful part of the world.
Today we had done 24.50 kilometres in 8 hours 35 minutes.
We had completed some 91 kilometres and climbed more than 3500 feet in four days around a familiar area. After a wet and cold start the weather had greatly improved and we were privileged to see the stunningly beautiful Loch Avon in all its glory. Yet again we had enjoyed a great walk and we had ‘been there’ and, also, our new boots had worked well.
So we got the train back to normality. Just before the train got to Inverkeithing, a lady advised us not to use the toilets.” I’ve blocked the toilet ‘cos I’m a manic depressive” she said.
Normality? ……… where’s ma rucksack, I’m off to the hills.
