First Overnight Trip In Two Months: The Cairngorm Plateau & Ben Macdui

Sunrise on the Cairngorm Plateau

With a sunny couple of days forecast it looked ideal for an overnight trip in the hills, the first for two months following an operation on a hand. Not wanting to push my hand, which is still not fully better, or my fitness, which has suffered due to the layoff I decided a relatively short trip in familiar territory was a good idea. I didn’t want to deal with storms either, just see how my hand and body deals with a return to walking with a full load and sleeping in a tent.

At this time of year I avoid camping in forests or glens due to the midges unless it’s really windy. As only light breezes were forecast a camp high on the Cairngorm Plateau seemed sensible. An afternoon start was somewhat delayed by two meetings, the first before I’d left the car park. Here a couple who’d read my books recognized me and we had a short chat. It’s always good to talk to readers.

Next I met a publisher! I hadn’t gone far along the path when I met Bob Davidson and Moira Forsyth, once of Sandstone Press, who were finishing the round of the Northern Corries. It was great to see them. I will always be grateful to Bob for publishing my book on my Pacific Northwest Trail walk, Grizzly Bears and Razor Clams, which had been turned down by other publishers on the basis that no-one had heard of the PNT and therefore no-one could be interested in it and why didn’t I write a book on the Lake District anyway, they always sell? Bob went on to publish another three of my books.

Cairn Lochan

Anyway, back to the walk. This isn’t a plug for my books, honest! As I crossed below the Northern Corries and started the climb to Miadan Creag an Leth-choin a few people passed me descending, including a mountain biker bouncing down the rocks, but I had no further excuse to stop and chat. Progress wasn’t fast anyway, the heat saw to that. Last time I walked in such hot weather was at the start of the Cape Wrath Trail back in May. Slowness was fine. I wasn’t going far and I was revelling being back in the mountains. The sun was bright, the sky deep blue, the temperature high, but the land showed the ending of summer, the grasses faded, an orange and brown tint replacing the green. The cliffs of Cairn Lochan glowed in the sunshine.

Late afternoon on the Plateau

Reaching the Cairngorm Plateau I started to think about where to camp. I’d set out just thinking I would pitch my tent ‘somewhere up there’. Now I was ‘up there’ I had to decide where ‘somewhere’ was. I considered the long Feith Buidhe valley where I’d camped many times. No, not this time. I went on to the next stream, the Garbh Uisge Beag. I couldn’t remember ever camping here. I would rectify that now. I wandered a little way down beside the burn and found a good grassy site not far above the water with a view east to Beinn Mheadhoin and north to Cairn Gorm.

The red light of dawn

I settled in for a peaceful night. A gentle breeze whispered in the grasses. A hot meal, a bit of reading, time for sleep. I woke early, the first grey light creeping into the tent. Out to the east the sky was red above the shadowed hills. Dawn was beginning. No more sleep! Streaks of cloud above Cairn Gorm turned pink and orange in the first rays of the still hidden sun.

Sunrise soon

An hour after I woke the sun appeared, a searing white disc rising through redness over the shoulder of Beinn Mheadhoin. Soon the heat started to rise too. Another hot day was beginning. The night had been quite warm anyway given the height (1150 metres) with a low of 10°C. Shorts, sun hat, and dark glasses again.

Camp

The summit of Ben Macdui was less than 2km away. Leaving the tent I headed over the North Top, it’s flat summit strewn with circular rock walls protecting bivi sites, and on to the trig point where a couple of snow buntings hopped around waiting for crumbs. Too soon after breakfast for me to be stopping for a snack but I could see others in the distance heading this way so I guessed the little birds wouldn’t have too long to wait.

Cairn Toul & clouds

As always unless the mist is down I walked west a few hundred metres to where the slope begins to fall steeply into the Lairig Ghru pass. Along this edge are the best views from Ben Macdui, right across the pass to the great mountains of Cairn Toul and Braeriach. This is a spectacular vista only the top of which is seen from the very top of Ben Macdui. Few people see it though.

Rock spike & Braeriach

There’s a spike of rock here, stood up, I guess, by someone in the distant past. I always head for it, a marker for the view, a familiar and distinctive stone amongst a mass of rocks. I feel a connection with whoever erected it.

Cloud over Strathspey

To the north the sky was grey and hazy. A band of low white cloud hung over Strathspey. Here it was hot and bright. Back at camp I drank water and nibbled energy bars before packing up and heading along the stream towards the steep drop-off above the Loch Avon basin. A walker was coming towards me, which was unusual as there’s no path here and I rarely see anyone in this area. Behind me I could see a distant line of people heading for Macdui along the well-trodden main route.

As we approached each other the man veered towards me. “Do you know these hills well?” “Fairly well”. “I’m not sure where I am”. “Where are you heading?” “Ben Macdui, I think I’m going the right way but my watch keeps telling me I’m not”.  He had a print-out of the route from a guidebook or website and a watch that was pointing him towards the nearest point on the path to Macdui. This however was in the wrong direction, given where he was. “Just keep following this stream and you’ll hit the main path. It’s not far”. He assured me he had a real map in his pack though he didn’t produce it. He’d seen Loch Avon so I guessed he must have come down Coire Domhain and then round the edge of the cliffs but I couldn’t be certain and he couldn’t give me enough information to work it out.

Feith Buidhe & Loch Avon

He continued on towards Macdui. I continued on to the edge of the drop to the Loch Avon Basin then followed it round to where the racing water of the Feith Buidhe begins its crashing, roaring descent. This is always a tremendous spot; rugged, dramatic, wild. I love it.

View from the top of Hell's Lum

From the Feith Buidhe I wandered round to the top of Hell’s Lum Crag and then into Coire Domhain where I picked up a narrow path. This is used by climbers to reach the top of the cliffs and two of them were coming towards me now, one with a rope draped across her shoulders. She stopped. “Chris?”. It was Jessie Leong, a writer, mountaineer, photographer and more, whom I’d only spoken to before on zoom calls when we were judges for an outdoor gear award. Now we’d met for the first time, in the heart of the Cairngorms. She and her companion were off to do a couple of routes on Hell’s Lum.

"Is this the start of the Fiacaill?"

At the head of the corrie I could see figures along the edge of the Northern Corries, as I expected on a sunny Saturday as it’s popular and easily accessible. Soon I joined them for the last stretch of my walk to the descent route down the Fiacaill a’ Choire Chais. In no hurry and with the sun beating down I ambled along the edge of the cliffs above Coire an t-Sneachda admiring the buttresses and pinnacles. Leaving the path for a viewpoint right on the edge I noticed a party of six were following me. “Is this the start of the Fiacaill ridge?” I looked at the steep drop below. “Er, no. Definitely not”. I pointed out the big cairn at the top of the ridge, a kilometre or so away. “That’s where you want to go”. He said something about descending from a saddle into Coire Cas so they could get back to the car park. I advised against descending the Coire Cas headwall and again pointed them to the Fiacaill cairn.

This is the start of the Fiacaill

I left them eating sandwiches and carried on to point 1141 and that big cairn. Here I sat in the sun and thought of all the times I’d sheltered behind the cairn from rain, and wind, and snow, and of how glad I’d been when it emerged reassuringly from the mist during blizzards and I knew my navigation skills hadn’t let me down. The party of six passed me and started down the ridge. Soon I followed. I’d thought it hot on the Plateau. Now it felt like I was descending into a furnace. I reached the car soaked in sweat.

Early morning light over Beinn Mheadhoin

The trip was a success. A great walk and camp in perfect weather in a favourite place. My hand was sore but not enough to intrude on my enjoyment. I still seemed to be reasonably fit. It won’t be another two months before I’m out again.