Driving out to places to walk isn't something I've done for a while but I decided knocking the approach hike down to 4 wild kms around Cairn Gorm's flanks was infinitely preferable to 9km hiking over stony fire roads and rocky approach tracks from the Campsite (only to have to walk down on the road and repeat Wednesday's walk" home"). So we chugged upto Coire na Ciste carpark and joined 1 car and 5 vans staring into the fog.
It was the first time we've hiked together in a couple of years, racing having taken precedence over most holidays. I was in charge of now so I cheated and used the GPS to avoid any agonising back-tracking but the paths were mostly worn to the first ridge.
Just below the rim of the Choire, an older couple were stopped, discussing where to go next and we tried our best to persuade them to venture further whilst inwardly hoping they'd move on so we could steal their rock and stop for some food. They didn't.
Just over the top of the ridgeline we made use of a few stones in the heather to consume sandwiches whilst quietly watching an eagle soar by even closer than the one I saw on the flanks of Bealach Horn.
We dropped down to the river easily, the substantial bog having been dried out by the summer sun. The book said "straight up the other side to a sandy path".
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| Future sandy path - about 100m from the summit |
We complied but it was hard going against the grain of the heather so found a faint path to follow in a zigzag. It intermittently disappeared so was still a tough climb. A gaggle of 12 ptarmigan scattered in the sun, taking to the wing like a flock of mountain pigeons then disappearing amongst the granite rocks.
At the top was Bynack Beag which we summitted to add to the Corbett list then hiked over to Bynack More where bizarre granite rock formations looked more like a jumble of dumped armchairs and sofas piled up alongside the path.
These "Barns" continued off our first Munro of the day looking like a combination of cosy bivi shelters or stony coffins.
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More Ptarmigans mooched around on the descent, convinced we couldn't see them, even though snow hasn't yet fallen. Their fluffy feet now visible, they were so close. A mountain hare saw us before we saw it and darted across the hillside, disappearing faster than the spindly path we had been following.
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| I challenge you to spot them (2) |
The book lamented "descend to the saddle where the full glory of the Cairn Gorms opens up before you". Smug bastard. The cloud lifted and broke enough for us to take it in "piecemeal" rather than "full glory" but Look Eounach was exposed along with its surrounding peaks and as we crossed the (not so) boggy ridgeline from where we could see many Cairngorms summits intermittently spread across the Landscape rolling around us.
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The path up to Cairn Gorm's South shoulder was taken at a slower pace by me, still struggling with biking last week and 2 walks this week.
It was a beautiful place to stop and eat the rest of lunch and take in some sugar though.
We left the path too early, making a bee line for the summit up sheep flanks but it was too hard going and we didn't seem to be making any progress. We must've looked desperate and lost as the mountain rescue helicopter made 2 passes to check we were OK. It didn't help that TSK's bootlace snapped so on the helicopter's second pass, I was providing shelter whilst he repaired the lace. We gave them the signal for "No thanks, we're fine, really", at 4:30 pm, and carried on. As the chopper disappeared up the Glen, I inwardly wobbled and hoped there really *was* a nice easy descent from the top.
After what seemed like a never ending trudge across a lunar landscape, the tourist path up from the carpark finally came into view. We bailed out of our rocky, mossy trudge and enjoyed the final 50m on compacted sand.
The only other 2 people we saw on the mountain were well loaded backpackers about to make their descent to the loch for the night before attempting Ben Macdui tomorrow. She reassured me they had a fine selection of layers - as we all stood chatting amongst the summit snow which fell yesterday evening.
Summit selfies taken, we started the march down the tourist path, ignoring what would have been the easier option over something we perceived to be quicker.
It was our only nav error. In our rush to go the quick way down we endured a steep harsh descent on big rocks interspersed with slippery gravel and a few close-calls on my part as I skidded around on the loose stones.
The route we should have taken was glaringly obvious as a path but we'd descended too far and there was a steep gully in the way.so we sucked it up and kept going.
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While there were no "tourist hoards" around to avoid (the book recommends the descent of the Coire na Ciste ridges to avoid the tourists), we did encounter a drone pilot as I weighed up the most effective way to rid myself of the electronic hornet - a small stone or the discarded orange peel 1'd picked up on the way down. The pilot took the hint, jumped in his car and left.
The walk to the van along the road was predictably tedious yet quiet. Interesting noseying at the out-of-season ski infrastructure.
The distant sunset developing under cover of the mountain cloud we'd been cursing turned from yellow to gold then finally, as we got to the van and ate our sandwiches, the glow emerged, casting pink light across the highlands, including through the clouds still shrouding Cairn Gorm and I experienced The Most Enchanting evening of the whole fortnight. It could only have been more perfect if we'd lingered on the mountain a little longer but still, it was a tad chilly for that and we quickly started the engine on the van and headed down to a warm pod and a hot shower.
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