Winter in the Cairngorms, at last: a day on Cairn Lochan

Cairn Lochan

The first real winter weather this year finally arrived in the Cairngorms last week, which is very late. November has mostly been wet, windy, cloudy, and, for the time of year, warm. Now the weather has turned frosty, cold, clear, and calm, at least for a few days, which is wonderful.

Cairn Toul

Taking advantage of the sunshine I headed up onto the Cairngorm Plateau to see how the frost and snow was changing the landscape. As the morning was forecast to be misty I set off late, intending to stay up high for the sunset.

Walkers on Miadan Creag an Leth-choin

Reaching the Plateau took longer than expected as the stony paths were slippery, with a thin glaze of invisible ice on many of the rocks. Trekking poles kept me upright, but I did slip off one boulder at a stream crossing and added some unwelcome cold water into a boot. Despite the freezing weather my foot stayed warm as I never stopped for long. I expect my thick merino wool socks helped too.

View down the Lairig Ghru

A surprise as I gained height was to look across Strathspey to thick clouds burying the Monadh Liath hills and stretching out along Strathspey. Aviemore was cloud-free but just to the west the strath was blanketed in white.

Cairn Lochan

As I rounded the side of Cairn Lochan and looked along the Lairig Ghru I could see more clouds filling the land beyond with just the highest tops of Beinn a’ Ghlo poking through. For once the Cairngorms was sunny when other areas were not.

Cairn Toul after sunset

High up the walking became easier as the rocks were ice-free. The ground was frozen solid. There was much frost to crunch through and some patches of hard snow left from a recent fall to cross. I had microspikes with me but didn’t need them as previous walkers who’d crossed when the snow was softer had left nice big bootprints.

Cairn Toul & Sgor an Lochain Uaine

I paused on the summit of Cairn Lochan for a snack and a hot drink. There wasn’t a breath of wind. The streaks of cloud high in the sky were turning yellow, orange and red as they caught the last rays of the setting sun.

Fiacaill Coire an t-Sneachda

By the time I was descending the colour was fading from the sky. A waxing moon rose over Derry Cairngorms. The first stars appeared. I left it as long as possible but eventually had to switch on my headlamp.

A great winter’s day out at last. I hope there will be many more in the next few months.

After the rain - frost and mist

After two days of rain and low cloud - the sky solid grey, the land drenched, the air sodden - today came with frost and mist and glimpses of snow-capped hills.

Wandering in the local fields I stopped abruptly, realising I could see nothing beyond the frosted grass stretching out all around. No walls, no fences, no trees, nothing. Once I'd looked round for a few minutes, staring hard into the mist trying to discern something, anything, I realised I'd lost any sense of direction, something I wouldn't have thought possible here in these familiar fields. I knew I wouldn't have to walk far before the edge of the field appeared but for a few seconds it was disconcerting. On a mountain I'd have been using map and compass. Here I just walked for five minutes until a well-known tree appeared

Late in the afternoon the mist rose and fell, thinned and thickened, revealing hazy bands of pink and orange in a blue sky far above. The forest was mysterious and insubstantial, magical.

The frost lasted all day, decorating the reeds and grasses, beautiful and fragile. A touch of wind and it would be gone.

As the light faded I ambled home after a quiet meandering walk.

Fine light over Bynack More & Beinn Mheadhoin this evening.

After a lovely sunny day the evening light over the snowy Cairngorms has been beautiful. Desk work has kept me in all day apart from a brief stroll - sometimes it's frustrating writing about the outdoors when the outdoors is calling! Now at 4.30pm it's already dark. The first stars are just appearing.

Trees & Traps & Sunshine: A Stroll Up A Local Hill

The Hills of Cromdale

Local hills can easily be neglected and it was with surprise that I realised it was two years since I’d been up Tom Mor just across the glen from my house. So on a recent cold but sunny afternoon two of us set off to visit this little 484 metre summit, actually the terminus of a long finger of moorland jutting out from an undulating heathery plateau in the north-east corner of the Cairngorms National Park. Tom Mor is a heavily managed hill, the slopes are used for sheep grazing and grouse shooting, and are covered with the scars of heather burning, There’s a forestry plantation on one flank too and a communications mast near the summit. I don’t often see much wildlife on Tom Mor other than red grouse and the vegetation is rather minimal, mostly heather and more heather. The reason for climbing the hill is for the views, which are extensive in all directions.

At least this is how it was. Now the hill is changing. There was little sign of this as we began to walk up the rough vehicle track that curves round its flanks, almost reaching the summit. Indeed the only visible additions to the landscape were rather dispiriting. On each of the little burns that ran across the track there were logs with spring traps in cages on them, five in total. None of the traps were set and they all looked pretty rusty. The logs showed that they had been placed fairly recently. 

Higher up, as the first patches of snow that remained from the thaw of a few days previously appeared, the changes were much more uplifting. Little pines were poking up through the heather, lots of them, the beginnings of a new forest. There must be fewer sheep on the hill, far fewer. As we climbed so the trees increased in number. The broad summit was covered with them. If left alone this will be a wooded hill in a few decades.

Young trees on the summit

For now the only shelter on the summit is provided by two large well-built cairns and as a bitter wind was sweeping out of the north we took cover behind one of these while we donned extra clothing. Across Strathspey the Hills of Cromdale were still snow-spattered while to the south the bright line of the River Spey led the eye through forests and fields to where the hazy, cloud-capped Cairngorms hung white against the blue sky. A waxing moon stood high in the sky and the wispy streaks of cloud began to turn pink and orange as the sun sank into thicker clouds far to the west.

Strathspey

The colour began to fade from the sky as we left the summit for a direct descent down rough tussocky slopes to the dark shadows of the pine plantation. Like the slopes above this wood has been left alone and is now slowly reverting to a more natural state. Once inside the trees it didn’t feel like being in a plantation. Or on an even hillside. Whilst from outside the forest looks like it’s on a uniform slope it’s not and inside there are valleys and hills and twists and turns. The contrast is great, and the wood is far more interesting than it appears. 

Below the wood a double somewhat rotten fence required careful negotiation before boggy fields led to the road. I looked back at the silhouette of the hill. Tom Mor may only be an over-managed little hill but those young trees will draw me back soon. Higher

Dawn & Dusk on Braeriach

Dusk

Dawn