The December trip for the Cairngorm Club was an unusual traverse of Morven, starting east of it beside Carn Fiaclach, then along a ridge of smaller hills before dropping down south past Crannach Hill to Tullich. As the minibus climbed the Military Road, the road was increasingly white, and when we disembarked already at 550m, the wind was strong and we were straight into pludging uphill through snow.

There were a few onboard new to winter conditions so a baptism of fire ice; a lot of faffing with kit before we got moving. On the first incline within 10 minutes it became clear that today would be a struggle for those not hill-fit, and also with those who had clothes and kit not quite up to the intense cold and constant snow showers.

The stronger walkers soon pulled off the front, but had to repeatedly wait while looking back into the gloom as various groups stopped, huddled and faffed. I knew there was no way we would make the main hill top at the pace we were going, but the day’s leaders didn’t seem to have much of a plan A or B, which is advisable in a group of mixed abilities. In these situations it’s best to split into distinct groups with different targets that are within capabilities and to not overreach, but we ambled along, stop – start – stop – start, all seemingly intent on the same route. A couple folk were beginning to suffer from the cold, and fortunately a couple of the more experienced involved had known to take extra kit for such eventualities: a spare jacket and gloves were distributed. A tough winter day soon finds weaknesses in one’s layering strategy and extremity-cladding.

I eventually intervened and told a leader that myself and a splinter group of faster walkers would go ahead in hope of still making the top, and we headed off now at a constant and faster pace down from Cairnagour Hill, and then climbing Mona Gowan’s 749m

The cairn at Mona Gowan was just enough to get a good break from the wind to get lunch out, and I was glad to glug big swigs of hot chocolate from the thermos today. Others from the slower groups began to arrive, and we set off again but a few members lighter as the pace had been a bit much, so they fell in with the second group, and the now 4 of us set off again.

At the Slacks of Glencarvie, a glacial breach between the north and south sides of the ride, we discussed whether we were still fussed about making the top – which would now require a real speed march in tough conditions to make it up and back in time. None of us were fussed – with low visibility there’d be nothing to see, and a direct descent of the steeper south side of Morven would be through deeper snow and potential avalanche risk spots. I had an alternative exploration in mind – I’d heard of a “illicit whisky hideout cave” at a rocky outcrop called Castle Wilson in the gulch, and with a slight detour we headed there to have a look.

Clambering around the outcrop I first noticed a small tunnel, but not much of a cave, then also a vertical hole descending deep through the boulders. I donned a headtorch and decided to climb down for a look

At the bottom of this mossy nook, the hole turns right and levels out, but the confines meant I couldn’t quite get a good look around the corner, but from what I could see it doesn’t appear to be much of a cave and only a small or very flexible person would proceed further. I think the tales of hiding whisky or distilling equipment here could be quite feasible, but people hiding in there, not so much. I guess the entrance would be relatively easy to create a camouflaged cover for, and the nearby tunnel a useful distraction for anybody searching.

Climbing back out we had a quick circuit around the rocks to see if there was anything else, but this was the biggest hole we could find.

Having decide to forego the top of Morven, we now headed down following some overgrown tracks and crossing a few swollen burns, eventually getting out from cloud and off the snow onto squishy and boggy ground, and glad of hard track under our feet at the Morven bypass track.

I recalled a similar trip a few years back which had been a very wet day on the bike and foot, and knew what was coming next – the singletrack down between Crannach and Culblean hills becomes a stream higher up as the confined water can’t escape from the sides, and the heather at the side is quite rough so it’s either splashing through it or flumphing through the vegetation.

Headtorches on we were now on the slightly drier track lower down, and were glad that our minibus awaited at Tullich Kirk. Some of the other groups had made it back to Ballater, and another we went to collect at Lary. Reassembled, it was time to get cosy and we headed to the pub for a few ales.