CAIRNGORMS
There’s a time and a place for everything. High car parks, which shortcut your way into the mountains, are made for the slim daylight hours of winter, especially if you’re Munro-hungry up in SCOTLAND.
It was a great forecast. Cold, clear, even a full moon. What’s more, there was just enough snow about to make it feel epic, yet not enough to slow me down. And boggy areas would be frozen. The stars were aligning, and they were over the Cairngorms.
It was the middle of January, which meant days were short. And since I’d be travelling up to the east of Scotland from the south on the same day my thoughts immediately turned to the idea of using a high starting point. The Glenshee ski centre on the A93 sprang to mind, so I started my search for hills to climb (that I hadn’t climbed before) from there.
A couple of kilometres north-east of the pass, Carn an Tuirc and Cairn of Claise caught my eye. On the map they make for a seductively short circular walk, perfect for the time that was available. What’s more, the terrain looked like it would be easy-going, friendly even. So that’s how I came to climb those two Munros, by simply analysing all parts of the equation. Climbing hills is always a logistical puzzle, and I like puzzles.
It was a day of clockwork precision. The alarm went off (I can’t possibly bring myself to mention at what time, it pains me too much to think about it), I drove for 7 hours, parked up and was walking by 11am. Not only was the sunlight startlingly clear, but the temperature, while cold, was warm enough for me not to wear gloves, even on the tops. That could mean only one thing; the air was still, no wind, because at this time of year, wind is the route of all evils.
I’ve been around long enough to know you don’t get conditions like this every day. That fact had an affect on me – I’m sure it would on you too. My body pooled its resources and seemingly out of nowhere I had the energy of someone half my age. I love days like these, days when you know you’re alive. I wasn’t doing anything big or clever, just going for a mountain walk, up Munros that wouldn’t interest many people. Yet it couldn’t have been more special.
That’s what was so pure about the day; the conditions. We all deserve a break weather-wise occasionally, don’t we? Think of all those dank, wet trips, eating into precious personal time, where you go for a walk anyway because what else are you going to do? Drink another expensive coffee and buy another tea towel? No, we still head out into the hills, despite ourselves. So it’s days like this one, which fill you with the good stuff, that make up for so much.
I was walking on air when I crossed the beautifully simple old bridge across the Cairnwell Burn. It looked historic a
