So where have I been, no posts in a long time..? Well, thankfully nothing untoward – I have continued to go out and have had many great adventures in the last year. I’ve found that other life responsibilities have eaten into my spare time, and a promise to minimise “computer time” in my spare time has been eroded – as I’ve taken on The Cairngorm Club’s communications and promotion tasks, redesigned their website which was badly out of date, plus trying to improve their social media output.
This has meant had minimal time available to sort through my own photos and write up long-format posts though I have managed in a very minimal way to continue on instagram as it has a limit on photos and just has a one line description usually, and I’ve put the occasional post on reddit. I hope to try and “back fill” posts on some of the adventures I’ve had in the last year, but let’s start again at “now” – coming towards the end of my winter season.
I headed out to the club hut near Linn o’Dee for the weekend. The forecast wasn’t great but there was a winter skills group in with a highly experienced instructor. It’s always exciting for those new to winter activities to head out decked in crampons and axes, and to discover new skills and have a new vista of adventure opened to them, so hanging out there would be a bit of a buzz on the go and I’d hear some wisdom from the instructor too – one should always be humble with regard to winter skills and can always learn more.
I arrived on Friday eve and chatted to the trainees and helped with them fitting crampons to their boots, had a few beers and mulled over an activity for the next day. I didn’t want an epic as the conditions weren’t great, and also wanted to avoid avalanche hazard – there’d been huge cornices laid in a sustained period of snow, and with a spell of warmer and wet weather these were likely to collapse. The snowpack would be soft too so didn’t want to wade through it for miles. Something with some gentle inclines and a reasonable distance. A suggestion of Beinn Bhreac ticked all the boxes, I’d not been there in a few years.
Saturday morning saw a late-ish start and we drove to the car park to reduce distance a bit then tramped to Black Bridge and then turned off up the Clais Fhearnaig path. With a lot of snow melt, we headed up to a waterfall and then scritched up the gully, it was more difficult than the last time I’d been up here, probably because the extra water discouraged stream-hopping to find the easiest line. Heather belaying was needed at the steeper points.
Red blobs caught my eye – over wintering Bear Berries in good condition, I could tell from the pattern on the leaves and the plain taste and gritty texture that these weren’t cowberries. The first foraged snack of the year.
The last time up here I’d headed up the rocky ridge, this time stayed beside the stream for a bit until a few large waves of soft snow were impassable.
Our next target was Meall an Lundain, but first an unexpected obstacle – a long snow wall had formed from northerlies along a stream line. It was noted for future snowholing possibilities.
My friend had been lagging behind which was unusual as a very fit person; he had been a bit off colour recently and he decided the ascent beyond the Meall would be unwise and he headed off down to Bob Scotts for his lunch.
I took a moment here to consider a route up Beinn Bhreac – I could see a stripe with minimal snow that would avoid to much sinky snow-tramping – the snow we’d encountered so far was all thawing and soft and would be hard going of deeper. First though I’d need to cross the gap of Poll Bhat and could see some big cornices hanging over it.
Avoiding a steep rocky edge, and then deciding against a steep glissade as now solo, I found a reasomable heather bash down, and now out of the wind was a god spot for lunch – with Lochnagar framed at the end of the gully.
I found a gap in the cornices and steep side and started the ascent, following a bearing and looking for snow-free ground as much as possible, the path up was mostly hidden under snow. Towards the top snow was unavoidable but not too deep, but the wind was now picking up in force and biting windchill forced a stop to up-glove and stick on the waterproof. I saw a chunk of rock and headed for it – not the top, a shelter of sorts, but the east top cairn wasn’t far away.
I was glad I’d lunched below, it was baltic and occasional bursts of sleet and rain came through, chivvying me rapidly along to the west top across a white plateau. Visibility began to drop but I got some good glimpses of the mountains to the north and west before it closed in for good.
Pondering the avalanche hazard I contoured around the top of Coire an Fhir Bhogha – it was steep enough on the east side and loaded with thawing snow. Once I was on less steep ground I yomped down, into a tussocky patchwork of snow and bog that was tough going. I could see an unmapped track but it was worse with ice and running water. A steady drizzle had set in now and it was going to be a dreich march back.
Arriving at Derry Dam, I hadn’t crossed it since reopened after repair, so would take the other side back to Derry Lodge, and while this is a rooty spindle of a path, it would also avoid the various burns that cross the east side track and were probably gushing and difficult to cross.
The path here unfortunately had a few pieces of litter – probably buried in snow and now thawed out. I collected them for disposable, but FFS why folk would drop stuff out here.
On the way from Derry Lodge to Black Bridge I passed various parties heading to bothies – some to Bob Scotts and a more ambitious party heading for Corrour with a heavy load of fuel. We chatted about our days then I was heading out back to my own “bothy” at Muir, looking forward to getting off the B2 boots and a cup of tea.
