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| Sgor Gaoith |
The long dry spell is over. Rain is falling heavily. Just a
few days ago I was striding across the crisp, crunchy, dusty Moine Mhor – the Great
Moss, a vast normally boggy upland – astonished at the dryness. The day before
I had marvelled at the shrunken River Feshie. That will change now.
I’d set off down Glen Feshie on a sunny afternoon, though with
thin clouds spreading overhead. The fresh leaves of the birches shone bright.
The air was thick with heat. Soon the clouds had grown enough to block the sun
though it still shone on a distant hillside, turning the pale grasses gold.
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| Allt Garbhlach & River Feshie |
The burns that run down into the Feshie were so low I could
easily cross on stones without even dampening the soles of my boots. Their beds
looked far too big to have been carved by these little streams. But they had,
when the waters were high and rushing down the mountainsides sweeping away
everything in their path. The Allt Garbhlach is a constant reminder of this as
you scrabble down the steep slopes to its wide stony bed and then scrabble up
the loose path on the far side. There used to be a good path with steps here,
swept away a decade and more ago. Now little trees are springing up amongst the
rubble and debris. They may have a short life.
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| Creag na Caillich & the River Feshie |
I camped in the woods in the narrow neck of the glen, where
it’s hemmed in by the steep rocky slopes of Creag an Caillich and Creag na
Gaibhre. A fine site amongst old pines and young birches, it had been used before
and sported two fire rings, one old, long disused, and grassy, the other bigger,
newer, and with blackened rocks and half-burnt logs. There was no litter,
thankfully. I don’t think anyone had been here for a while.
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| Glen Feshie camp |
Dawn came with weak sunshine and stillness. The woods were
calming and I lingered. Relaxing for half the morning before rousing myself to
pack up and move on. Backtracking down the glen I picked up an old path that
winds steeply through the trees and up slopes of heather to the fine cairn on
Creag na Gaibhre. The path is overgrown and indistinct in places. I lost it a
couple of times.
The climb is arduous
but the views and the feeling of wildness overcome any weariness.
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| Broom |
Above the trees broom flourished, its bright yellow flowers dominating
the landscape. There were dizzying views down stony ravines to the forest and
the river far below.
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| View into Glen Feshie |
Creag na Gaibhre is a splendid viewpoint for Glen Feshie and
I stopped here for a snack. A breeze was picking up and the sky cloudy so I
didn’t stay too long but was soon following the faint path as it continued on
to the dark waters of Lochan nam Bo, trapped in a cleft in the hillside, and
then over Druim nam Bo, a bump on the broad west ridge of Mullach Clach a’
Bhlair, the high point of this corner of the Moine Mhor and a Munro.
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| Creag Na Gaibhre |
Long before reaching the summit I joined an old estate track
that stood out harshly from a distance – two straight furrows driving up the
hillside – but which didn’t seem too intrusive when actually on it.
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| Mullach Clach a' Bhlair |
As the steepness eased off and the tiny cairn on Mullach
Clach a’ Bhlair appeared (a rather paltry affair compared with the one on Creag
na Gaibhre) the view opened out across the Moine Mhor to the distant pointed
peak of Sgor Gaoith, also a Munro, and the sweep of Munros – Braeriach, Sgor an Lochan Uaine,
Carn Toul – that rise above its eastern edge.
The summit was windswept and chilly. I kept moving, heading
for Loch nan Cnapan in the heart of the Moine Mhor. There are ugly bulldozed
roads up here and I used these at times though mostly I went cross-country.
When wet this can ensure sodden feet and much cursing as you flounder through the
bogs. On this occasion I was amazed at how dry it was, drier than I’ve ever
seen it. I walked on cracked crusty mud, over pale dried grasses. There was no
water in many of the little burns and pools that lace the moor. The word arid came to mind.
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| Loch nan Cnapan & Monadh mor |
At the loch I found a good flat site. The wind was gusting strongly,
so I pegged out all the guylines. As with the evening before the late sun cut
under the clouds and lit up the long gently slopes of Monadh Mor a couple of
kilometres away.
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| Loch nan Cnapan camp |
A sudden blast of heat woke me at dawn. The sun had just appeared
over the hills. There were long streaks of cloud in the sky. The wind had gone.
I wandered beside the loch, ate breakfast, dozed, ate another breakfast,
somnolent in the heat.
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| Sgor Gaoith |
Eventually I packed up and started across the rough ground –
all knolls and hollows -towards Sgor Gaoith, aiming for the old path that runs
along the rim of Coire Odhar in Gleann Eanich. I think this is the finest way
up Sgor Gaoith as it gives superb views.
Once I’d located the path, which seems to start somewhere out
on the Moine Mhor, I followed it round to the Fuaran Diotech spring and nearby
ruined hut. There’s a pool by the ruin. The burns running in and out of it were
dry. A flat grassy area makes for a good pitch here. I’d used it just the year
before (see this
post). Someone had camped here much more recently and had left a ring of rocks,
the grass still green underneath. I moved the smaller ones onto the ruin’s walls
and rolled the bigger ones into the pool. I wish people wouldn’t do this! Or at
least replace the rocks when they leave.
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| Allt Fuaran Diotech |
The Fuaran Diotech spring was still running strongly, soon
leaping down the crags into Coire Odhar. Cool, fresh water. I needed it. I
relished it.
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| Sgor Gaoith |
Refreshed I continued along the path. Soon it converged with
the main thoroughfare coming from Carn Ban Mor. Two walkers were just heading
back down this, three more were heading for the summit just ahead of me. On the
top five more were relaxing in the sunshine. The view of Loch Eanich and
Braeriach was spectacular, as always.
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| Braeriach & Loch Eanaich from Sgor Gaoith |
Leaving for the wide scar of the standard route I met a
walker heading up, the eleventh person I’d encountered, and the last. All of
them were in a half hour period and on or near the summit of Sgor Gaoith. I met
no-one else all trip,
I was soon over Carn Ban Mor and heading down the long stony
path to Glen Feshie. As I descended the wind picked up and so did the heat. Sweat-soaked
I was glad to reach the glen.
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