The Cairngorms in Autumn - The Glen Feshie Hills

Sgòran Dubh Mor

Autumn has come to the Scottish Highlands. The thermometer in Pete’s impressive new VW Bluemotion Golf (72 mpg, and even more with the engine off!) read a sobering zero degrees as we drove south from Aviemore down beautiful Glen Feshie. The whiteness of the early morning frost in the fields of Strathspey contrasted with the blazing autumnal tints on the silver birches and a blue, blue sky that promised a golden day on the high tops.

Autumn Tints in Glen Feshie

Leaving the car at the car park just north of Auchlean farm, we strolled off in that confident gait that comes from light sacks, no waterproofs and brilliant weather. The excellent Foxhunters’ Path carries you almost effortlessly up on to the skyline and deposits you at a small cairn on the long north-south plateau-ridge, much of it above 1000m, that towers above Glen Feshie. This upland forms the western rampart of the Cairngorm mountains. Despite the near idyllic conditions in the glen, it wasn’t all plain sailing. Orographic cloud clung stubbornly to the top of the ridge and a bitter arctic wind swept in from the north-east and forced out the jackets and gloves.

Coire Garbhlach

We endured the icy blast for twenty minutes and the cloud forced some deft map and compass work from the good-looking multi-talented mountain leader and blog author in the party as we struck out across the featureless plateau. And then it was gone, the cloud, the wind, the map, the compass and very shortly afterwards the jackets and gloves. There was our blue sky and bright sun again and there in front of us the first of our two Munros for the day.

Mullach Clach a' Bhlair Across the Featureless Miles of the Moine Mhor

A short side-step around the headwall of impressive Coire Garbhlach led us to the estate track that winds its way across the plateau hereabouts and then we were standing by the modest pile of stones that marks the summit of Mullach Clach a’ Bhlair (1019m; hill of the stony plain). Views from this diminutive but strategically-placed lump encompass, on a good day, much of the Central Highlands.

A Distant Cairn Toul From Carn Bàn Mor

Some 7 km to the north, just peeping over the horizon, lay the pyramidal summit cone of our second Munro, Sgor Gaoith. Off we strode on our carpet of grass and moss over the undulating plateau, the high peaks of the western Cairngorms, including Braeriach and Cairn Toul, now clearly visible across the featureless miles of the Moine Mhor (great moss). You wouldn’t want to be stranded here in cloud or at night without a map and compass – here be dragons! We continued north over Carn Bàn Mor scattering Ptarmigan in our wake and slowly but surely our peak drew closer.

Sgor Gaoith

Suddenly people were everywhere with at least a dozen folk peppering the summit, two of them with cycles! The ground immediately to our right dropped spectacularly to reveal the deep glacial trough of Gleann Einich with its eponymous loch framed on the other side by the majestic western corries of Braeriach. This is an impressive spot and we lingered for some time on top of our second Munro of the day, Sgor Gaoith (1118m; peak of the wind).

Braeriach From Sgor Gaoith

As the afternoon sun arced away to the south-west, we descended north over a succession of minor mounds and dips past Sgòran Dubh Mor and the delightful rock pinnacle of Sgòran Dubh Beag with great views left across Strathspey and right to the northern corries of the Cairngorms. We put up a flock of dunlin and watched gliders from Feshiebridge soaring above us.

Coutts' Stone

On Creag Dhubh we passed the small tors of Clach Choutsaich (Coutts’ Stone) and Clach Mhic Cailein (the Argyll Stone) where the eponymous duke rested following defeat in battle. Eventually we reached the final promontory of Cadha Mòr and were looking down on sweet Loch an Eilein with the evening sun lighting up the rustic coloured bark of its protective army of scots pines.

Loch an Eilean

From this last high viewpoint we left the easy walking of the granite and tundra vegetation for what we knew would be a messy pathless descent. Sure enough, there followed a rag-tag ankle-wrenching controlled tumble down through the deep tussocky heather and scots pines each of us in turn stumbling over hidden rocks or disappearing down unseen holes. An impressive red deer stag bounded away seemingly immune from our travelling difficulties. Eventually, the blissful sanctuary of the cycle track coming up from Loch an Eilein rescued us from purgatory and that familiar oft-walked and oft-cycled track led us north through the scented pines of Rothiemurchus to the waiting car and promises of a hot fish pie and an ice-cold beer. Even I had a beer that evening. Er, even I had several beers that evening...

Evening Reflections in Rothiemurchus

Check out my future plans for similar walks on: http://www.hillways.co.uk/summer/summer.htm