In a familiar area it’s easy to always go to favourite
places, ones that you love and are happy to see again and again. Sometimes,
maybe, you’ll look the other way and think “I must go over there one day” but
you never do. I’ve done that many times. But on my last trip I decided that ‘one
day’ should actually be ‘this day’ and I finally explored an area of the
Cairngorms I’d only looked at from a distance before.
From Glenmore through Ryvoan Pass is a standard route I take
many times a year, sometimes turning west up Meall a’Bhuachaille, sometimes
heading east and then south for Bynack More. To the north lay Abernethy Forest
and I have occasionally followed the track from Ryvoan into the trees. But to
the east lay a big area of woods and heathery hills I’d only seen from afar,
always turning away for higher more
rugged hills. Not this time.
At the bridge over the River Nethy I turned away from the path
climbing the hillside towards Bynack More and took a faint narrow trod beside
the river towards the edge of Abernethy Forest. The indistinct trail came and
went amongst tussocks and the first small trees of the spreading woods. The
river ran in a gorge here, swirling and crashing out of sight. I’d set off late
in the afternoon and the sky was darkening when I found a perfect camp site, an
area of flat grass beside a long-fallen pine.
Rain fell during the night, wakening me as it spattered on
the tent. Dawn was dry but showed low clouds over the hills. There was no wind
and the air was damp. Walking through the wet grass and heather I was soon
soaked from the knees down. Little pools appeared on the edge of the forest;
the trees reflected in the water in perfect silhouettes. A pair of goldeneye ducks sailed out from a reed bed,
leaving v-shaped wakes in the smooth water.
Boggy slopes led up big, bulky Carn Bheadhair. Ravines with
shattered rock towers and splintered crags broke the regular curves of the
hill. There were no paths, but a large cairn marked the summit. A golden eagle
soared high overhead as I approached. To the south the clouds were beginning to
break up over Cairn Gorm and Bynack More. I went onto the next top, Carn Tarsuinn,
the walking easier here, just above the bogs and the deep heather.
The view from Tarsuinn was superb, a great sweep of Cairngorm
hills – Ben Avon, Beinn a’Bhuird, Beinn a’Chaorainn, Bynack More, Cairn Gorm, Meall
a’Bhuachaille. From this perspective they all seemed surprisingly close together.
All were familiar hills, walked many times, yet I’d never seen them from here,
never seen them like this.
Carn Tarsuinn marked the easternmost limit of my walk. Now I
turned south-west, heading back towards the track to the bridge over the River
Nethy. The going was soon tough again with peat hags, endless tussocks, bogs
and deep heather to negotiate. Maintaining a regular rhythm or a straight line
was impossible. Below deep banks lay last remnants of snow. If I came this way
again, I thought, it would be on skis or snowshoes when the snow lay deep. That
would be much easier.
The track gained I relaxed. No need to concentrate on footing
or route now. Just walk the familiar stony path back to Ryvoan and Glenmore,
satisfied after a new look at the Cairngorms.
