Battling through manflu to bag another pair of Munro's...

It feels like forever since my last trip away, and could be just as long again until my next one. Being off on a weeks leave without bagging a Munro would have been considered a sacrilege last year, but other things are more often consuming my time nowadays. I harboured an intention to get away last weekend (prior to spending five days between Carnoustie/Glasgow/Blair Drummond) but felt physically drained by a long arduous week at work and was content to sloth out for two days at home instead.

During the trip to Carnoustie I managed to pick up the cold, that would eventually lead to me talking myself out of a trip away this weekend...that was until my girlfriend told me to man up and get away. It was a rather last minute decision on Friday night, including a rather hurried ruck sack packing job, that saw me elect on a trip to Aviemore (Feshiebridge to be precise) on Saturday.

Unfortunately for my long term companion Jelly McBaby it was rather too hurried a packing job...and he was inadvertently left behind!!

Jelly McBaby has been with me every step of the way since 15th May 2010, one hundred and sixty three Munro's ago. Granted there have been occasions when, mostly due to weather, he has elected to remain in the safety of the ruck sack, but nevertheless he has been along for the ride. This was the first time I had ever forgotten to take the wee soul along on a trip away...I just hope he can forgive me this oversight.

My hurried decision to go also saw me in too much of a rush to adequately plan my route for the day. I had a map and GPS but no idea which of a possible three routes I would elect to take. I guess sometimes you have no other option but to play these things by ear...
It was a familiar drive to Aviemore (I feel like I am never off the A96 these days) but the first time I have been to Feshiebridge. After a brief stop at Tesco to stock up on bottled water I trundled off along the B970 signposted for Feshiebridge, before taking a single track road headed to Achlean. There were a number of potential stops along this road, leading to various tracks into the hills surrounding the area. I was destined for a car park around 1k from Achlean.

As I was getting changed by the car I was pestered by a pair of collies looking for me to play fetch with them and a stick...which I duly did for the first five minutes. I set off, with my new companions bursting ahead, at quarter to ten, the sky full of cloud and a chill breeze on my bare head. The cloud was hanging as low mist above the hills I was headed for but I was hopeful of it lifting by the time I got to them. I walked the 1k down to Achlean farm and then skirted behind the farm buildings to pick up the trail as it headed left into the trees leading to Carn Ban Mor.

Once into the trees the path was ridiculously easy to follow as it wound it's way around the lower reaches of the slopes. Coming out of the trees the views began to open up behind, if not in front, of me. I could clearly pick out Meall Chuaich in the middle distance and knew that beyond lay the flatter plateaux of Drumochter. Although I could not quite see far enough in the mist to pick out Creag Meagaidh I knew she was the dark brooding hulk to the right of the Alder range. The mist ahead of me lay thick in the bealach but there was heat above me that would hopefully burn through to give me clearer views as I gained height.

The twisting nature of the ascending path had meant I hadn't seen anyone else ahead of me on the way up...until I was just below the bealach and could make out a figure disappearing into the mist ahead of me (perhaps ten minutes ahead). The dogs were well behind me now, the three walkers with them were slowing them down. I could also make out another pair of walkers behind them, plenty of boots on these hills today (the car park had at least eight cars in it when I arrived). I strode into the mist and saw no-one else, in front or behind, for the next half an hour at least. I followed the trail around to a small cairn sitting in a crossroads of tracks, one of which led to the summit of Carn Ban Mor. With no visibility and no downloaded route in my GPS I had to rely on good old fashioned instinct to choose the right track to lead me to the summit cairn.

Carn Ban Mor is a subsidiary top between Sgor Gaoith and Mullach Clach a Blair, sitting as it does in the great Moine Mhor plateau. I now headed off NE to another slightly lower bealach at 1012m before climbing the final 1k to the jagged summit of Sgor Gaoith at 1118m. There is no visible cairn on the summit, rather there is a cerated fin of jagged rocks leading down to lonely Loch Einich below, which is classed as the summit. In winter conditions it would be all too easy to step out onto a cornice of overhanging snow and fall down into the dark rocks and waters far below. As I had no companion along for pictures today (look I am really sorry, okay, it won't happen again) I had to content myself with crossing my walking poles to mark the scene of the summit.

X marks the spot and all that. It is a truly magnificent view from here, all the way down to Loch Einich beneath your feet, and across to Einich Cairn on the rear slopes of Braeriach which rises up from the far shore of the Loch. Thankfully by the time I reached this spot the sun had indeed burnt off the remainder of the mist from the summits, the clouds retreating to a height just above 1100m (they remained on Braeriach). I snapped a few shots of the waters below.

I was hoping that I may get a decent shot of Braeriach today, but for that I would have to wander along the ridge to Sgoran Dubh Mor, which used to be a Munro at 1111m, so I did. By the time I arrived at the summit cairn the mist was still rising off Braeriach but unfortunately not enough to give me the shot I was hoping for.

I headed back to Sgor Gaoith and got a few more shots of the tops before retracing my steps towards Carn Ban Mor.

The extra walk out to Sgoran Dubh Mor had added 45 minutes onto my day, and also allowed the dogs and owners to catch up with me again. I settled into a gentle pace alongside them and chatted away about our respective Munro tallies (one of them was bagging his 279th today, another his 250th, the other his 217th). They had started bagging way back in 1984 and, coming up from England each year at a week at a time, were almost at the end of what they described as "a lifetimes journey". All the while we were walking along I was playing tag with the dogs and an empty bottle of powerade...they could have played all day long for sure...running after it and fetching it back to me each time I launched it into the distance.

Instead of heading back across the top of Carn Ban Mor we skirted around her gentle slopes and trampled across the ever soggy Moine Mhor. We picked up the faint outline of a trail cutting through the boggy grass, avoiding the worst of the peat bogs, as we headed to the cleft of Fionnar Choire. The bulldozed track coming from Cadha na Coin Duibh is soon picked up, leaving an unfortunate scar on the landscape, this track leads all the way to the summit of Mullach Clach a Blair at 1019m. A small cairn marks the summit, again I noted it with crossed walking poles, and the flat plateau offers no escape or shelter from the conditions. Thankfully the wind wasn't blowing too strongly, though there was an increasing nip in the air meaning that I was unwilling to linger too long on the summit.

I elected to follow the bulldozed track back down towards Meall nan Sleac 800m, but instead of following the track around her flanks I elected to scale her slopes in the hope that there may be a short cut back to the track on the far side...unfortunately not the case!! I ended up taking far longer than required, if only I had stuck to the path! It did allow me the chance to shoot off a final few pics from the summit though.

I trudged wearily through grass, stones and heather on the way back down the other side of this extra slope, until finally arriving back at the path I had deviated from earlier. There now remained the last 6k walk back along the floor of Glen Feshie, a rather pleasant meander through scots pinewood and on an elevated heather bank above the river Feshie.

I made it back to Achlean farm and returned to the tarmac road all the way back to the car park once more. Five minutes later I was back at the car and changed ready for the drive back to Aberdeen. All in my day had consisted of 5.5 hours driving and 6.5 hours walking. 220 Munro's now bagged I have to start making plans for the remaining 62, although it looks unlikely that I will still be on target to finish next October as I had hoped...that matters not a jot!