Outdoor Discoveries

A short sortie in snow-streaked hill country

It’s amazing how brainwaves emerge and the one that prompted my weekend visit to Glenmore and Abernethy is a case in point, and it might have been caused by the prevalence of cycling outings since my last walking excursion. What resulted was a hastily planned getaway facilitated by a Caledonian Sleeper journey between Crewe and Aviemore (booking a berth this time around) with an overnight stay in the SYHA Cairngorm Lodge hostel. For all that, it worked out very well in the end, and keeping things simple might have helped towards that end.

Overcast skies were pervasive when I got to Aviemore, but I didn’t dally with disappointment at all. One thing that concerned me was that the later-than-usual arrival time because of the need for passengers bound for Fort William to continue their journey from Kingussie by coach due to engineering works. That concern subsided when I boarded my intended bus for Glenmore to make use of the full day ahead of me, one of the advantages of overnight travel.

That day was to be spent poking around a part of the world that I first explored on the last day of my stay in the area last August: Strath Nethy. With that in mind, I picked my way towards the Ryvoan Pass with patches of snow still littering the ground without my need to go that high at all. For safety’s sake, I had my Kahtoola Microspikes with me so, while wary of over-exuberance, they gave me a little more confidence when dealing with what lay underfoot. Even so, much of the white stuff that I crossed was of the softer variety rather than its harder and icier counterpart.

To ensure views over well blanketed summits like Cairngorm and Braeriach, I reversed a higher level course to An Lochan Uaine that had me reproaching my wisdom in August until the vistas repaid my efforts. Though the sun was trying to get through any breaks in the cloud cover, conditions weren’t so conducive to photography, and I contented myself with a few record shots in case nothing better came the way. That is not to say that there was no tinge of blue appearing, but it was taking its time doing so. It was after An Lochan Uaine that any real brightness began to grace the slopes of Meall a’ Bhuachaille.

Leaving the track for Nethy Bridge to take the one going for Strath Nethy took me by the Abernethy Forest National Nature Reserve with the surrounding countryside being eerily reminiscent of what you find around the Rothiemurchus Estate with its mix of lone trees, a heather carpets and a smattering of lochs and lochans. Grouse were making their presence known, and I got to hear the classic “go-back, go-back” call for the first time ever; I have heard grouse before, but never making this sound as clearly as I heard it last Saturday morning. Having left a party of ice axe equipped mountaineers go ahead of me, I could take in the surrounding sights and sounds without worrying about holding up anyone.

Reaching Strath Nethy and the bridge over the river flowing along its floor was marked by a spot of early lunch. There were vague ambitions of reaching Glen Avon and Loch Avon in the back of my mind, but the tempting track shown on the map as following the Nethy on the floor of the glen was anything but appealing on the ground. In fact, it was a boggy mess, punctuated with occasional stretches of stepping stones. Any efforts to make it more passable looked far from concerted, and it’s little wonder that the right of way for Glen Avon took a higher route.

In fact, I chose that right of way to get me onto an unnamed hill acting as a long shoulder to Bynack More. It was at this point that I became beset with rain showers, but there were dry respites too. That reminded me of a rain drenched trot over Meall a’ Bhuachaille’s neighbouring hills last August, albeit with the breaks that allowed so drying time. Snow took over as the main covering underfoot, but it remained largely soft, and I had the Microspikes on in case I needed, and they didn’t let me down on one icy patch where I put them to the test.

Gaining height does allow you to resolve geographical counundra and I saw the way to a well snow-enveloped Bynack More and confirmed that it was its neighbour Bynack Beg that I was seeing from the floor of Strath Nethy. The slab-sided Sròn a’ Cha-no was another landmark across the same glen, and I think that I spotted a small cornice lining one of its minor side valleys too. While I was concentrating on what was near at hand, the views ranged far and wide too, with those opening up towards Cromdale’s hills and those at the back of Aviemore while the showers stayed away.

Satisfied with a pleasing bit of reconnaissance, I left a snow-covered Bynack More for another time and retraced my steps. Glen Avon and Loch Avon were left to wait too, but my patience with the passing showers, though wearing thin, was rewarded eventually with a clearance that was to remain for the rest of my time in the area. One of the advantages of an out and back walk is that views that didn’t appear at the best on the outbound trip can look better on the way. So, it was on this occasion and I made the best photos of the surroundings while on my way back to Ryvoan and Glenmore.

After An Lochan Uaine, I stayed with the track headed for Glenmore Lodge, but chose a variation later on. This took me over Abhainn Ruigh-eunachan and around by Allt Mòr before crossing the road that leads to the skiing centre and the funicular railway to head for the shores of Loch Morlich. Seeing sandy beaches by a freshwater loch is unusual, but having it all backed by woodland and snow-covered mountains was something else again. With the accessibility of the loch, there was no way that I was going to have it to myself, and I didn’t begrudge anyone out enjoying the sights like me. That’s not to say that there aren’t quiet corners, and I sought one of them out to see what I could capture with a camera.

With the evening light fading, I made for the hostel to secure my bed for the night in a room named Ord Ban and across from another named Bynack More. It was a reminder of where I had been during the day and that a rest was needed after the way that the day had been spent. An early bedtime followed, a fortunate development given that someone rose at 06:30 the next morning and wasn’t being so quiet about it either.

Sunday was never going to be much of an outdoors day, with a journey home to fit into it. Fatigue after the previous day was a factor too, as was the need to sort out a few things before I left Aviemore. Nevertheless, I did fit in an energetic trot from Glenmore to Aviemore by way of the track called the Old Logging Way. Having gone the way before in August, I had memories of the trail that gave a reassuring sense of progress as I was walking. The day was starting out like the one before, with grey skies letting some sunshine through and displaying vague signs of blue colouration. With few distractions, I got into a walking rhythm that made good use of any downhill sections (that there were plenty of these may go some way to explaining why snow was never that far away) to complete the five-mile distance in under two hours. There were patches of snow and ice along the route, but none of these were unmanageable, and it wasn’t overly busy either, though I did encounter the occasional cyclist and jogger.

As if to give me a good send off after a fleeting visit, clouds had broken to reveal blue streaks in the sky by the time that I got to Aviemore. The hills underneath which I had slept looked resplendent in the distance as the sun got more opportunity to work its magic as the day grew older. The journey to Glasgow allowed more chances for admiring any hill country that caught the sun before I continued south again from there. All of this has me pondering an Easter escape. Of course, this is dependent on weather and other circumstances, but the mind is starting to wander, and who knows what brainwaves might be unleashed?

Travel arrangements:

Service 38 from Macclesfield to Crewe, ScotRail Caledonian Sleeper from Crewe to Aviemore and service 34 from Aviemore to Glenmore got me to the start of the walk. A railway journey conveyed me home from Aviemore with changes in Glasgow, Preston and Manchester.

A weekend among the Cairngorms

It was the feeling of a developing rut that triggered it and a ride on the Caledonian Sleeper that got me there but, if that was what was needed to get me out among snow streaked hills and under snow blanketed summits, then it did the job well. Though I met with hefty (rain) showers in the middle of the day on Saturday, I am inclined to think that I might have gone where drier weather was more plentiful. After two postings regarding cycling, it was time that some walking ones made their appearance on here, and there was a good deal of that before I came south again. As luck would have it, the bike now has a puncture, so that needs a repair. Serves me right for taking a shortcut through the woods on the way home on Friday. As seems to be my wont with these things, more is to follow and, hopefully, I’ll avoid my near habitual dallying with this one.

2009: a year of reconnaissance and rediscovery

Before Christmas 2009, I tried making a start on this round-up, but the attempt came to a full stop. One cause was a memory block and a certain loss of chronology in the trip report postings. Along with this, end of year fatigue and lack of inspiration had their parts to play too. The latter came home to roost when I failed to capture the year in a nutshell. It’s a chicken and egg kind of problem: you have to get writing to crack what it is that lies at the heart of your planned jottings, but you also need a theme in mind before you can get writing. Perhaps, it is for that reason that a month by month structure falls into place for these pieces each year.

Eventually, I cracked the problem and here is the posting that fell into place. At its heart lies a few recurring themes that the words reconnaissance and rediscovery help to convey. The first of these turns up a lot in the trip summary and reflects my iterative approach to exploring the countryside. While there are times when I go somewhere, and it all falls into place, there are many when I am setting things up for a return. The second refers to my realisation after a ten-year spell (call it a decade if you want) that was a lengthening list of places where I hadn’t been for a while. Compounding that was a review of photos in the gallery that revealed that a new visit was in order for making new replacement photos. Having another go at image processing can only do so much, and that especially applies to scanning prints. It was a successful tack when it came to encouraging to go back to locations that once used to attract a lot of my attention.

Still on the subject of rediscovery, the joys of two-wheeled travel along country lanes were enjoyed too. Before the pedestrian hill wandering took hold, cycling was the way that I did all my exploring, but 2007 didn’t see much time spent on my bike. That was addressed in 2008 and continued into last year. On some of my walking trips, the usefulness of cycling was brought home to me and 2010 may become a year when I go away somewhere and hire out a bike for a little while, something that I haven’t done for more than a decade. Who knows, but I may get to take my bike with me to somewhere further afield once I get over a certain fear of the consequences of mechanical failure or a wheel getting punctured.

Slowly Building Up A Head Of Steam

Appropriately for a year that was to see me revisiting a number of locales where I hadn’t been for a while, the first walking trip was on familiar local turf. Mind you, it took me until the last Saturday of January to get things moving, and you really end up with tight leg muscles if you decide to go up a hill in such blustery conditions that even standing upright takes a huge effort. That hike started outside the Cat and Fiddle pub before descending towards Wildboarclough and going up again to the top of Shutlingsloe before dropping back into Macclesfield once more.

Two descriptions that were to fit February of last year were freezing and frenzied. The first of these was down to a visit to British shores by a spell of cold and snowy weather that tested out a Mountain Equipment down jacket obtained at a knockdown price in the January sales. Though the cold snap was nowhere near as severe as the one that we have had since before Christmas, mountain rescue teams were littering the media with warnings about the need for winter skills and equipment. Even so, that did little to stymie my walking in four nations in four weekends, the last of these slipping into March.

Nevertheless, the first of these was a low-level walk along Great Langdale that followed the Cumbrian Way for much of the journey to Ambleside. Even though I stayed low, that’s not to say that I didn’t need to keep my eyes peel for ice on the ground and some of it was none too nice, if I recall correctly.

That Cumbrian adventure was followed by an Irish escapade, my first ever dedicated hillwalking trip over there. Snow still abounded, though it was on the retreat, and I was to find bare rock near the top of the Great Sugarloaf not far from Kilmacanoge. The outing was a good start and on a mild springy if grey day, but it needs following up on a suitable occasion.

After one outing on the western side of the Irish Sea, there was another on its eastern flanks. That took me to Dyffryn Ardudwy in Wales for a circular yomp around by Moelfre with clag covering even lower tops. That put an end to any idea of reaching the summit of Moelfre, but it didn’t mean that the day was spoilt; low cloud has its own appeal too and the sun did get through from time to time, especially near the coast where I found old burial chambers reminiscent of Irish dolmens.

After walks in England, Ireland and Wales, it was Scotland’s turn and the escapade was a very wet one with an hour or two of dryness and sunshine. The starting point was Tarbet on the shores of Loch Lomond and I rounded the lower slopes of Cruach Tarbet before doing the same with the head of Loch Long and following Glen Croe to reach Rest and Be Thankful. There was some dryness at my finishing point after a wet weather walk up the glen, but Argyll soon got its hefty shower conveyor belt going to convince me that I was going home at the right time.

The remainder of March was quiet so it was over to April to be busier, and it is here where the order of things got a bit confusing, so I’ll eschew the practice of following chronological order. At Easter, I fitted in a memorable if short first visit to Aviemore to spend a wonderful day around Rothiemurchus with some ascent of lesser summits to really set off the proceedings. Other outings were less dramatic and featured a contorted trot from Congleton to Leek on a mixture of public rights of way. There may have been a battle between sun and cloud overhead, but the walk was not spoilt at all.

A long overdue return trip to Derbyshire was in the same vein, with the low-level walking offering a perfect opportunity to break in a pair of Meindl Burma boots that I purchased in the January sales at a knockdown price. My chosen route shadowed the River Derwent between Baslow and Matlock. My choice of starting point exposed me to a busy Chatsworth with a TVR owners’ meet, no doubt helping the visitor numbers. The hoards were lost by continuing south on an ever brightening afternoon.

In between all of this, there was a trip to Wales for a hike from Dolwyddelan to Llyn Idwal on a gloriously hot sunny day that needed the hat that I purchased in Capel Curig after rounding Carnedd Moel Siabod. There may not have been so much height gain involved, but I was content with being surrounded by hills.

Into Early Summer

The month of May started with a trip to Eden or, to be more precise, to Cumbria’s Eden Valley. I hadn’t ever gone walking around Appleby-in-Westmorland before, but this was to become a good introduction. This is Pennine Way country, and I was to find my way onto the said trail near High Cup Nick. Any designs on reaching the Nick were stymied by a late train, but a good day of walking was enjoyed on an ever improving afternoon when cloud cover surrendered to the sun.

Another sampling of the verdant scenery that makes May my favourite month of the year took my from Leek back home to Macclesfield. It might have been Plan B on the day, but I was rewarded for my patience around Tittesworth Reservoir with wondrous peace and quiet as I continued to Dane Bridge, from where I picked my way for the rest of the journey home.

Another Cumbrian outing completes the set for the month with a jaunt from Coniston by way of the Cumbrian Way and Loughrigg Fell, an idea inspired by a cold weather trip in May. It was not the quietest of routes and the day was sure to draw the masses anyway, but it had its quieter stretches too.

The Cumbrian theme continued into June with my embarking on a walk from Kirkstone Pass to Windermere by way of Stony Cove Pike, Threshthwaite Mouth, Park Fell and Troutbeck Park. It was a day often spent in the sort of splendid isolation that allows some clearance of mind. Any idea of taking the high route around by Ill Bell was left for another occasion in the interests of time. The steep ascent from Stony Cove Pike may have had its role in persuading me of the sense of a lower level route.

There was a weekend visit to Scotland too, with a wet and dry perambulation along the West Highland Way from Glen Coe to Kinlochleven. The start was none too promising, but the improvement soon started but, while I sorted out some hill identification by topping out on Beinn Bheag and Stob Mhic Mhartuin, the idea of obtaining better photos than those which I already had has yet to be fulfilled. With the scenery that resides up there, there’s never any harm in returning time after time. The day after saw me enjoying a resplendent Sunday morning stroll among Inverness’ leafier parts; the Ness Islands are well worth finding.

As was to be the case throughout the summer, my bike was carrying me out on local outings, with an evening trip around by Congleton and a hot afternoon cycle taking in a busy Tatton Park and a quieter Dunham Massey. After that deluge of outdoors activity, the month ended with a social trip to Ireland that took in the hills around Gougane Barra and the cliffs around Kilkee.

Barbecue Summer?

Except for ongoing local cycling trips, July was a much quieter month for me and the weather that we got was to make a mockery of the barbecue summer predictions in the long-term forecast from the Met Office (these must have become an embarrassment by now and the winter forecast was more accurate). The month did start with a visit to Liverpool while on a damp day trip to the Isle of Man, a place where I hadn’t gone before and hope to revisit sometime for some hill country hiking. Even with a continuous mixture of weather, I found a dry afternoon (and evening) at the end of the month to go walking from Kidsgrove to Wheelock. Along the way, I took in Mow Cop before getting to the Macclesfield Canal on the South Cheshire Way and then crossing to the Trent and Mersey Canal for the remainder of the trek.

August turned out to be more active on the hillwalking front, and it began with a flourish, too. A day spent walking around Cwm Cau may have caught more low cloud than sun, but what could have been a continually hot August day had its cooler interludes. It was that point that kept annoyance at bay when I saw the sun gracing the sands near Barmouth.

Generally, August was like July in that a mixed bag of weather was on offer. There may have been visions of basing myself in Mallaig for a week and spreading out to the likes of the Small Isles, Knoydart, Ardnamurchan and Glenfinnan, but I was deflected by thoughts of seeing the area in less than ideal conditions.

The result was that I headed east to Aviemore for a few days instead, and the weather offered quite a mixture, quite unlike the faultless day spent up there earlier in the year. Day one got me a soaking as I was walking over the summits of Meall a’ Bhuachaille, Creagan Gorm, Creag a’ Chaillich and Craiggowrie and the dampness wouldn’t leave well alone as I went exploring around Craigellachie. Day two was better behaved with only light showers about while on what became a low-level reconnaissance walk Inshriach that took in Loch Gamhna and Loch an Eilean. The evening saw me seek out the start of the Speyside Way in much the same vein. Day three had an unforeseen damp start that was the cause of my making use of the Strathspey Railway, an experience that changed my mind about steam locomotives. After that, it was onto Glen More, where more “rooting around” ensued as I reached Strath Nethy under dull skies that were battling the sun. Later, I followed the “Old Logging Way” back to Aviemore to await the overnight train for the south.

That wasn’t all of my Scottish wandering because the end of the month saw me ensconced in Edinburgh with the Festival in its death throes. An escape to the Pentland Hills occupied Saturday after a stroll over Salisbury Crags. What otherwise was a dry sunny day was punctuated by light rain showers, but there still was much to enjoy. There may have been notions of an excursion to Melrose, but they were parked for an easier day around the city, revisiting old haunts. For now, the Eildon Hills lay unvisited, but there always needs to be a reason to return.

That itself reminds of what I did between those Scottish outings when I cycled to and from Lyme Park near Disley in Cheshire. The outbound route took in the Middlewood Way, Marple and part of the Macclesfield Canal, while the way back went out the back gate of Lyme to take a more hilly course that skirted Kettleshulme and dropped into Pott Shrigley and Bollington. The latter course may have involved more walking due to the gradients encountered and under ever whitening skies. The cycling was broken otherwise by restful exploration of Lyme Park on what was a busy day. Nevertheless, I still found a quiet spot where I could linger while and discover one of the joys of cycling: having more time to loiter in between all the travel. It was all part of a little photography project of mine that was sending me around by various locations in the hope of improving the Cheshire album in the photo gallery. That was set to prove successful, though there are other places that I’d like to revisit with the same purpose in mind. Anything that gets you outside has to be a good thing.

A Quieter Time Following A Rush

It appears that every busy month is either preceded or followed by a quieter one, and August had both. September was less frenetic, though there was a social visit to Ireland at the start of the month. Apart from a walk around by Springfield Castle, there was no Irish excursion of note while I was over there. An “Indian summer” visited us later in September, and the realisation that I hadn’t been there for a few years sent me back to Wharfedale in Yorkshire. The weather on the day was splendid and many were out and about. To a point, that limited the enjoyment of walking all the Wharfe between Burnsall and Howgill, but it was quieter from there on and there was plenty of space for all around Bolton Abbey. The last stretch to Ilkley offered plenty of solitary moments should they have been required.

October wasn’t the busiest of months for outdoor trips, either, though I did make my way to the Yorkshire Dales again. This time, it was a circular walk around Ingleton that drew me. That took in limestone country and crossed both Scales Moor and Ingleborough. Sunshine was a rare commodity until late in the day, but that didn’t dull the delights of being among limestone pavements and outcrops. On a brighter day, it would have been photographic heaven, so I’ll keep the idea on file for when such an opportunity arises. The same applies to explorations of the Lune Valley, along which I had made my way while travelling out from Lancaster and back again.

Waking Up For The Winter

People in Cumbria will have good reason to remember last November, and not for the best of reasons. The deluges were partially to blame for my outdoors activity being limited to a day trip to Chester, with urban strolls there and around Stockport. My giving old photos the treatment that they needed was the cause of spending a lot of spare time sat in front of a computer, too, so I set up a plan to snap myself out from what was beginning to feel like a rut.

The result of that plotted escape was a weekend trip to Fort William at the start of December, and it started with a frosty morning, too. The evening before saw me getting drenched while picking up tickets for the Caledonian Sleeper that was to carry me north overnight. While cloud was advancing from the south-west, I enjoyed the morning sunshine with a stroll around Fort William before heading out to Morar for a spot of reconnaissance after taking in the sights from the train while on the way over there. The next day was relentlessly cloudy while I set to undertake my first visit to Ardgour. It looked as if Glen Coe were catching the sun, but some ideas have been planted in my mind for future excursions. As if to draw me back again, the sun seemed to making a better battle with the clouds and I on my way home on the day after. The weekend reminded me of the plans that might have come to fruition in August, but I wonder if the way that things have come about is better.

A Sunday afternoon visit to Derbyshire followed a week later, but an onset of wet conditions may have put paid to any notions that my Scottish break had been a week too early. Even so, I enjoyed a walk from Edale to Hope that took in Mam Tor and the Great Ridge. What amazed me was how fast I got from the top of Lose Hill to Hope’s train station and with some time to spare before a Manchester train came along too. It still was a nice complement to the few hours spent testing a puncture repair on a cycle that took in some of Cheshire’s hill country as well.

They were the last outings of 2009 that I made before snow came and visited us. To make something of the white stuff, I embarked on a local stroll that took in the Macclesfield Canal, Tegg’s Nose, the Gritstone Trail and Rainow. The lying snow was pristine and clear skies allowed the sun to do its magic, so I reached home again, satisfied with what was gained by my labours. A trip across the Irish Sea completed the year and, though another social one, there were hikes around by Springfield Castle and Kilmeedy in West Limerick.

And so to 2010…

In summary, there was quite a mix of destinations, with new locations like Wicklow and the Cairngorms mixed in with local haunts in Cheshire and places visited a while back. 2010 is without big plans and has a feeling of a watershed about it. The idea of doing something a little different from previous years appeals. As of now, I have no idea what it might be, but it won’t be a case of consigning all previous things to the bin. Saying that, having a bit more variety and less repetition wouldn’t be a bad thing.

In times of plummeting mercury

It had to come as it often does at the start of November. Temperatures fell on a Sunday night after a fairly pleasant day that saw me fail to get out into the open air as I would have liked. What followed it was a day that mixed fine crisp winter sun and typical November misty murkiness. Some may say that it’s still autumn, but the weather feels like winter even if trees retain the last leaves after some stormy interludes. A lunchtime walk had me surveying what’s left of the golden shreds after the Indian summer that came to us in September and October.

Apart from the chill in the air, November brought us some unsettled weather too and that seems set to continue; we may be in the midst of a lull at the moment but something more dramatic lies ahead of us if forecasters are right, and they are far from infallible. Thus, it is somewhat timely that The New York Times has brought us an article concerned with the avoidance of hibernation. The activity at the heart of it may be running, but the same malady afflicts those who explore the outdoors world so it’s interesting to read another take on the subject, especially given November’s habit of bringing grey murky weather with it.

It is tempting to retreat to virtual explorations on one’s PC when it looks not so alluring out of doors. Nevertheless, that can have its place too and might even result in putting you out over your activation energy barrier to enjoy what abounds at this time of year. In recent weeks, I have been sprucing up old members of my online photo gallery. The ones of Skye are as good as done until I get to add to that collection from a day’s walking over Ben Tianavaig last year. Lochaber has come next for a spot of improvement and Argyll hasn’t escaped either with an old print taken by the shores of Loch Etive seeing an attempt to better it with a new scan and subsequent Photoshop work; there’s a knack in keeping things realistic, a line on the wrong side of which I don’t want to find myself.

The trouble with all this tinkering with old photos and is that it consumes spare time like it’s going out of fashion, so a short session can gobble time that was set aside for other things. That’s what happened to me on Sunday but it has its benefits too. Looking at those old photos reminds you of places where you haven’t been for a while. For instance, I now think of that photo of Loch Etive as a less than sharp specimen and wonder about a return visit. In the past, I have played with the idea of a two-day walk from Taynuilt to Glen Coe or vice versa with an overnight stopover at a bothy. Nothing has come of it so far, but the idea of revisiting Loch Etive and passing along Glen Etive for the first time makes the notion attractive. If the weather was to play ball, then it would be even better.

While on the subject of a wandering mindset, there are places in Lochaber to revisit. Loch Treig and the Grey Corries fit in here and there’s what’s around Corrour too; the idea of disembarking from a Sleeper to walk to Fort William has come to mind from time to time. More civilised spots like Loch Lochy and Loch Arkaig also beckon. Mind you, a spot of bicycle hire might be an idea for the latter pair because progress along the Caledonian Canal as it rounds Meall Bhanabhie can seem so slow as to be infuriating. Still, this is a nice part of the world that should be traffic free and the distances involved make bicycle travel look the more useful. For long-distance travel on foot, there’s the Great Glen Way of which I have sampled only a little and it would take me by Loch Lochy on its way to parts that have yet to host my footfall.

Continuing the theme of exploring pastures new, there’s around Mallaig too with some introductory possibilities from Morar to gain a sense of what lies about there; it is remote country too, replete with possibilities around Loch Morar and Loch Arkaig for the more adventurous. It’s been a few years since I ventured around by these parts while en route from Skye to Oban and the only stops were Mallaig and Glenfinnan. With the options already described and others like Knoydart and the Small Isles within reach, it is perhaps small wonder that the summer excursion that eventually took me to Aviemore could have taken to towards Mallaig instead. In the end, I decided that it was better to try for a time when the weather would have been more suitable for showing off the landscape at its best. Nevertheless, it is good to have such a scheme in mind, for the sake of avoiding indecision if noting else.

Having skirted around it, I suppose that Skye well deserves a longer mention. That walk from Elgol to Sligachan may not get repeated after seeing my surroundings bathed in the sort of light that would have been in order for a week based in Mallaig. However, there are other paths to follow and other parts to savour. Glen Brittle is but one of these and a spot of cycling might be in order given that’s how I got about on my first visit to the island. It’s never any harm to see new sides to an old favourite.

With all of these, what really hits me is how well peering at old photos can act as a muse as well as being an uplifting distraction from any greyness that is about. It is tempting to say that shortening days curtail the possibilities but I am minded to convert the delights of afar into experiencing what lies on my doorstep. Making use of the latter may set me up for heading further afield yet. In a way, it’s amazing what indoor inspiration can achieve so long as you don’t spend all of your time lost in the reverie and fail to get out at all. After all, November isn’t always murky and December’s bright moments should not be missed either.

It all doesn’t end with a damp start

Before I set off for Aviemore, a look at any forecast could leave you with only one conclusion: that it was going to be a mixed bag. It certainly was just that, but the other thing that was predicted was that Thursday was to be the best day of my stay. By the time that I got up on the said day, it wasn’t looking that way. As if to prove that hill country microclimates can rubbish the very best weather forecasting, incessant light rain was what was visited upon Aviemore when I arose.

That was enough to inspire me that and staying indoors for a little while might have been a good idea so I undertook an out and back trip along the Strathspey Railway propelled by a steam locomotive named Braeriach. Because I was leaving on the Caledonian Sleeper that evening, I had everything with me, so having some respite from load carrying was no bad thing either. Having been put off the idea of steam train travel by a very smoky ride on the Jacobite steam train between Mallaig and Glenfinnan a few years back, this was a far better experience. The cause of all that smokiness was passage through tunnels and none occur on the course of the Strathspey Railway, so that must have been how the air remained clearer. The best part of the journey lay between Aviemore and Boat of Garten but it was pleasant and relaxing throughout with the rain clearing all the while.

That encroaching dryness was enough to send me on another bus back to Glenmore. Under largely grey if bright skies, I reprised Tuesday’s walk over the Ryvoan Pass albeit continuing instead to Strath Nethy by following a Right of Way leading to Braemar. Starting later meant that I had to restrain myself so as not to overdo things and run out of time or energy, an important consideration when maps reveal places like Loch Avon, Bynack More and Bynack Beg. The weather was friendly to midges, so any stops had to be where there was a breeze so as not to get overrun by the blighters. As it happened, the sun was battling gamely with the cloud cover without much to show for it, so there was little chance of that driving away the incessant ones. Still, I was satisfied with my out and back hike that had me rounding Creag nan Gall, passing by Loch a’ Gharbh Choire and beneath Stac na hIolaire. Even with my thinking head on, I was tempted to go further but I still stopped on the eastern side of the Nethy and lingered a while with An Lurg and Cairn Bheadhair looming ahead of me. Looking up along the glen brought my eyes upon the aforementioned Bynack Beg and Bynack More. Seeing a good path ahead of me sowed the seeds of a plan for using it to get to one of the two summits. That meant that there was an air of unfinished business about my venture as I pulled myself away again, but that air so pithily summarises the scope of my Cairngorms explorations so far.

It looked as if it were going to be a case of following a by now familiar track back through Glen More until I got near An Lochan Uaine again but I decided on a different route. Very soon, I got to chastise myself for not noting the gradients crossed by the narrow path that I had chosen, especially with what all that I had in tow. However, that is not to say that there weren’t rewards when the sun finally broke through the clouds to give all abroad a blast of heat and the landscape a blast of life with some invigorating views of the mountain after which that steam locomotive had been named. Thankfully, these really opened out for me when kinder gradients allowed a chance for a restorative rest stop. The hard work along the lower slopes of Meall a’ Bhuachaille were more than repaid. It was all downhill afterwards with the forestry track returning me to the Forestry Commission visitor centre where I considered my next steps.

One idea, maybe the more sensible one given the walking that I had been doing, was to the bus back to Aviemore but I chose to make my way back along the not too exhausting Old Logger’s Way instead. In truth, there is nothing old about this new path/track that shadows the road out for much of its length. It is both cycle and walker friendly and anything has to be better than road walking. One thing that strikes me about Aviemore is how cyclist friendly the place is. In a way, this reminds me of Pitlochry, but there’s more about the more northern stop on the Highland Line. Not only does the National Cycling Route 7 pass the way, yet there are plenty of opportunities around Rothiemurchus too. In time, I might even get to shorten distances on two wheels while parking them somewhere secure while exploring higher slopes. Given that my interest in cycling is resurgent these days, you never know what might come of thoughts like these. My progress along the Old Logger’s Way was steady on an ever greying evening and there was some time for obtaining sustenance before catching the overnight train south.

With all of my wandering along Speyside and among the Cairngorms so far, all that I can say is that I have only nibbled at what is on offer. It’s always the best state in which to be leaving anywhere, so any opportunity for a return could make use of ideas involving first Munros, cycle trails and the like. The mixture of weather left me with no complaints at all; anything’s better than constant damp wetting greyness and I got in some good sunny spells. As it happened, I did have Mallaig in mind as a destination for a longer summer trip but decided that I’d rather not see what’s about there in the less than ideal conditions that were predicted so I stayed east after the delights seen at Easter time. That proved to be the right call and my train journey home had a certain feeling of satisfaction about it.