8 September - Glas Maol to Cairn of Claise and back again

We arrived at the cairn virtually simultaneously with a couple who'd come up from Glen Isla. After discussions about winter motorcaravanning, the benefits of snow-shoes (which I've never used), ski touring, how quiet it was for a Sunday etc, they departed for Creag Leacach, we for Cairn of Claise.

As we descended towards the Monega path, the mountain hares which populate these rolling, spacious, hills appeared and entertained us with their antics. A joy to behold!

Following the wall across the broad ridge between Garbh-choire and Caenlochan Glen, we spotted a large herd of deer - the first seen on this trip.

Given the wind direction, the small summit shelters were of little use so we didn't hang around. Thoughts of adding Carn an Tuirc were rejected with little more than a glance at each other; the reward for walking and climbing with someone for decades. Down to a warm world, but summer has deserted the high tops.














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7 September - Braemar Gathering

What an excellent day we've had for £10 each (stands £20 but fully booked). The Massed Pipe Band was superb, the individual bands equally so. The distant sound of the pipes was a constant throughout the day as the various sporting activities took place.

Perhaps I'll write more about this when home but today it's sunny and warm and hills beckon.




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6 September - Morrone

Late afternoon and back in Braemar there is much activity and an air of excited expectation as the day of the Gathering draws near. The sun is shining, Range Rovers prowl the village street, the car park is full of motorvans, the Co-op is bustling with beer-buying locals and visitors; the staff are helpful and very pleasant. All in all a lovely atmosphere pervades the village.

We've been up Morrone via the golf course road and access track which although an ugly scar, makes for easy walking. Several others were there when we arrived all wrapped up against the cold. Down the way we came. Views variable. Some rain.

Not much else to say really.


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4 September - Creag nan Gabhar

From the bridge just north of Baddoch a path strikes east between the steep heather covered slopes of Carn nan Gabhar and Creag an t-Sean-ruigh, climbs to around 700m then drops north east to Glen Callater conveniently depositing you at Lochcallater Lodge if so desired.

After the initial grassy section we entered the narrow un-named glen and just as we emerged from its confines came across the flattened remains of a hare. It resembled an ancient cave painting we thought.

Crossing the burn and gaining a bit more height, Carn an Tuirc came into view as did the great bulk of Tuesday's hill, Carn an t-Sagairt Mor. What a magnificent, immense landscape this is; what a privilege to walk its glens and high plateaux.

By the path a large area of turf had been removed and used to camouflage shooting butts, a common enough sight in these parts unfortunately and a reminder of the loathsome slaughter that is about to commence on these hills.

From near this point Creag nan Gabhar, a Corbett which we had climbed from Auchallater back in April 1989, was easily accessible via a variety of tracks - tracks and paths are important to me at the moment - so we decided on a second visit. The bone-dry peat hag before the final pull was crossed easily, and the going good all the way to the stony top. Neither of us found the summit environs familiar - 1989 is a long time ago after all.

On these September holidays we always seem to be seeking some shelter from the wind so that lunch or whatever can be had in reasonable comfort. Today was no exception - I expect at or above 1000m wind strength would have been a major obstacle to progress. Anyway, down it was after the obligatory photographs of course. Did we take as many of them pre-digital?

Almost back at the 'van we spotted what we thought was a merlin, our smallest falcon.

Back at Braemar preparations were well underway for Saturday's 'Gathering' with B&B's filling up as well as the site. It'll be a busy place this weekend.







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3 September - Carn an t-Sagairt Mor

The Callater Burn was quiet today which was more than could be said for the track. Two-wheeled transport was popular choice and a sensible one it has to be said. We regularly used bikes when doing the remoter Munros such as Ben Alder, cycling down the estate road to Loch Pattack where we left them. The bikes were Raleigh Stowaways, as used occasionally by Hamish Brown on his continuous Munro trip. Today our mountain bikes remained firmly on the rack; Carn an t-Sagairt Mor can hardly be described as remote.

We seem to have an uncanny knack of arriving at summits in the worst weather of the day. Only the need for sustenance made us hang about, huddled as best we could by the cairn, unsuccessfully trying to obtain a bit of shelter to gulp down couple of mouthfuls of hot tea and some calories.

It was a rather different world as we lazed by the path just above the Lodge; smoke rose from both chimneys; a fellow stravaiger collected his bike, hidden in the heather, and set off down the track; judging by the cacophony, something had disturbed the sheep on the lower slopes of Creag nan Gabhar.

I've seen the heather in better shape at this time of year but a few bees were busy all the same. Time slipped by and all too soon we had to leave. We will, of course, be back.


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2 September - Glas Maol

If the wind strength at the car park was anything to go by, the Glas Maol plateau was going to be fun. The welcome sight of a mountain hare greeted us near the summit of Meall Odhar; less welcome was thick mist sweeping in from north and south.

No matter. This was to be a short day to assess the knee before venturing too far into remoter country. (I'm not going to mention it again unless its complete failure necessitates my extraction by the big yellow bird, although I think I'd rather hop and crawl back down than suffer that ignominious fate).

A few pics were taken at the cairn when the mist temporarily cleared, but it was no place for a bite to eat. Despite the poor visibility we noticed the grazing cages, first spotted in October 2011, were still in place. These cages were erected by Rene van der Wal and colleagues of Aberdeen University to "determine the influence of primary sheep grazing on summit vegetation on Glas Maol. We are particularly interested in the fate of fringe moss, or Racomitrium languginosum, which is perhaps best known as key habitat for dotterel to exist". (You can see a photo on a previous post from our October 2011 trip).

Back at Meal Odhar the sun appeared, the cold wind whistling through the ski-tow cables suddenly warmer. We had taken only an hour and five minutes to the top of Glas Maol (it has to amount to cheating to start at the car park), and would be back at the 'van at the absurdly early time of one o'clock at this rate. A long stop in sun was called for.

Coire Odhar is a fine place, or it would be if it were not for the ski-tows, fences and other detritus. And yet we'd both had some of the best fun days of our lives skiing here. I substituted that vision for the one that lay before us and felt all the better for it.

The drive down Glen Clunie and back to the site provided a pleasant conclusion to the day. What a simple uncluttered life this is!

A longer trip tomorrow.








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1 September - Annual Braemar bash

We arrived in Braemar yesterday afternoon in what you might call breezy weather and after setting up on site, wandered down to the village. A pipe band was playing opposite the Fife Arms and pretty good they were too. The Braemar Gathering takes place next Saturday so, depending on weather, we might pop along if tickets are still available.

It's a lovely morning so it's a hill for us today.









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Last two days of July holiday in the Lakes

Note: As with the previous post, some notes which were never uploaded to the blog. Re-reading, perhaps my initial decision was the right one!

I didn't really think my dodgy knee would allow me on the fells every day, but here I was near the end of the holiday having only missed one, and that from choice. A lazy day in the sun reading old Harry Griffin books and rock climbing guides, re-living some of my best early days on the crags. However much I enjoy walking, backpacking etc they don't compare with the intense experience of climbing.

No such experiences for us on this holiday. A leisurely day on Scar Crags, Causey Pike and a saunter up to view Dale Head Pillar finished off the holiday nicely - well except for Keswick market and a coffee in Grasmere on our very last day.

Edit: Tomorrow we are off to the Cairngorms and if the knee doesn't turn into what Conrad, on his excellent blog, calls 'GK', then October will see us back in the Lakes. After that I'll set the ball rolling for knee surgery, which can hopefully be arranged for the end of the year at the latest. That will probably mean missing much of the pleasure of the winter hills but I should be ready for spring. Whether our planned 'long walk from home' will be 'on' remains to be seen.






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9 July - Hindscarth and Robinson

[Note: a brief account written up while on holiday 'for the record' but never posted.]

Given that Scope End is our preferred start for an ascent of Hindscarth it's odd that it must be getting on for six years since the little path through the heather saw the soles of our boots, despite standing on the summit at least once during each one of those years.

As with every day on this holiday it was hot, but cloud did gather and disperse again before the day was out. 'For this relief...etc'. Apart from a chap from Glasgow who had retired to live amongst the northern fells, we didn't meet anyone until the top - a lone walker who was soon on his way to Dale Head.

We had wondered if the stultifying heat was keeping people off the fells, but no - they were all on Dale Head it seemed!

Eschewing the short cut via Little Dale, we took our usual route to Robinson and settled down at the cairn for lunch. Harry Griffin was apparently taken to task for claiming that in the view from Robinson "the top of Scafell Pike is exactly hidden by Great Gable". Somebody wrote to him saying that with 'field glasses' a thin segment of the top could be seen, and a mathemetician also apparently showed the Pike was just visible. Suitably rebuked, in future writings Griffin was careful to write 'almost exactly hidden"! A warning for us bloggers perhaps. However, Wainwright had no doubts: "the Pike is exactly covered by the top of Great Gable". Whatever the truth, it was immaterial today: the Scafell group was in cloud, the only part of the district so badly afflicted.

Our descent was a lingering one and the little rock steps, treacherous when wet, added a few moments of interest: it was lovely to be handling rock again no matter how simple.

We popped into Newlands School and Church. Walkers are welcome to shelter from the rain, said a notice.Various items were for sale: bookmarks, mugs, cards etc. We took a bookmark and left our £1 in box, built into the wall behind the main door, and exited out into the relentless heat. My ancient thermometer read 30C, although I can't vouch for its accuracy.

We have a friend who lives on the outskirts of Keswick who describes the Lakes as 'a paradise with rain' but, famed though the Lake District is for rain, in my forty three years of climbing and walking there in all seasons, my memories are mostly of fine weather. Same goes for Glen Coe and the Cuillin, likewise often cursed for their appalling weather.

As usual the (last) cold drinks from the motorvan's fridge were rapidy consumed, necessitating a visit to the excellent Booths in Keswick.





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Newlands and Dale Head

V

I could walk thepath by Newlands Beck every day and never grow weary of it.
We gave the customary nod to the lone larch tree. To pass without doing so would be like failing to wave to the Rannoch Rowan.

Hundreds of years ago German miners were extracting copper ore from Dale Head Mine, below the fell's summit. The old track used by the miners is a fine way to the top says Wainwright and although I've often thought of following it, if for no other reason than to see Dale Head Pillar, I never have. Strange that. Next time.
 
The heat was intense so I filled the filter bottle from the beck shortly before reaching the tarn, replenished the platypus from it, then filled it again in a vain attempt to carry enough water to keep well hydrated.

Reaching Dale Head's large cairn we found an even larger party of primary school children who'd come up from Honister. How lucky to be introduced to this glorious landscape at so young an age.
Usually we continue to Hindscarth and Robinson from here but decided that as it was a number of years since we climbed the first of these by Scope End, we'd do that round later in the holiday and return via High Spy today.

On our way down from Maiden Moor we met three teenagers with huge packs. "Where have you come from"? asked Lynne. "Somewhere from over there", replied the one male in the party, pointing in the direction of Derwentwater.

"I'm knackered. Don't even know where I am", a girl chimed in.
Eventually we established that they'd come over Catbells.
"Where are you headed"? I asked.

"Eh, Seattle", girl says. "Don't think so", I laughed.

They were in good humour and much studying of the map by one of the girls revealed they were going to Seatoller (we'd guessed that!). They were all smiles as we told them that most of the hard work was over. Off they went - a delightful trio.

We were glad not to be carrying heavy packs in such temperatures. Very glad.
Resisting ice cream at Little Town we strolled back through the leafy lanes to our start point near Rigg Beck. Another great day out in the finest of scenery.
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