Aviemore, Nethy Bridge, Bynack More

Aviemore had fantastic weather earlier this week (the nice weather seems to show up on my rest days when I’m not out walking). I pootled on down to Loch Morlich intending to update my blog, read some books, do some walk planning etc (far too many ideas for how to spend a couple of hours) but did none of the above because the sun was shining and it was warm. Like really warm. I went and paddled my feet into the loch, and the water didn’t even feel cold, it was calling me in. Quick change into the bikini and in I went almost up to the waist. This was as far as I got this time because the slippery rocks underfoot meant to go any further required a full commitment to swimming which I wasn’t prepared to make.

I camped up at Castle Roy in Nethy Bridge, where they welcome a couple of campervanners in their car park each night. Richard, who was involved in conservation of the castle, was happy to tell me about their work, and that this among the oldest castles in Scotland. Importantly, Richard introduced me to Murdo, their resident Heilan’ Coo, who was very happy to receive a scratch behind the ear.

The light that I woke up to the next morning was stunning. Murdo was happy to pose for another photoshoot given the good lighting.

Sadly, though, I wasn’t planning to walk in the sunshine in Nethy Bridge. The forecast across the Cairngorms was for very strong winds, ranging upwards of 50mph. I decided to try Bynack More, a munro at the north end of the Cairngorm plateau, where the wind was forecast to be marginally more reasonable.

The route up Bynack More was a long walk round a warm, sunny and sheltered valley, where I was shedding layers as I went. As the munro eventually came into view, the wind ominously made itself felt. The path comes up to a mid-level plateau for the walk up to the mountain, and the strength of the wind here was making me slightly nervous about being blown off the top.

But I have to say Bynack More was a particularly chatty hill. I had a long chat with a couple on bikes who had bravely cycled up to the plateau. One of them had grown up in Glenmore – at the hart of the Cairngorms – of which I was supremely jealous. I also met two guys who were coming off the hill – they reassured me that the wind was fine until the last 100 metres, when it would be head down and battle through it. Thankfully they were right – once I got to bottom of the hill at the end of the plateau, the mountain provided almost complete shelter for the climb, but this was the calm before the storm at the top where you had to win a real fight with the wind to get rewarded with the cairn. The summit was up in the cloud again so its another cairn-that-could-be-anywhere pic (sorry!). The wind gave me a new hair do for this one.

I met some more chatty people on the way down – there was Stan and Jude from Dingwall, who kindly offered to let me stop by if I was in the area. At the bottom I met the three local ladies who had waved at me across the windy top. The heartily recommended living in Aviemore, and told me about the local nightlife and “The Vault” – Aviemore’s excellent goodbad nightclub.

Several people had also recommended another hill – Meall a’ Bhuachaille – which I could go up and over on my return route. I hadn’t been planning on this, but the weather was so lovely in the valley I had already practically forgotten the wind, and wasn’t ready to finish walking. Up I went, a steep satisfying climb, and into the wind once more! Fortunately this cairn provided a bit more shelter for a quick stop.

Back at the bottom in Glenmore the last of the sun was shining on Loch Morlich, while I cooked up some dinner.

I popped along that evening to visit my Uncle George, who was staying at a friend’s chalet nearby, and who I hadn’t seen in probably over 2 years. It was fantastic to catch up, and to gather more tips and suggestions on where I could head next. On our drives into Aviemore for some shopping and a spot of dinner I was inducted to an important family tradition. A local hotel which George had stayed at years ago with a friend had thoroughly snubbed them on account of not liking their employer. Henceforce, everytime George drives past said hotel he ceremoniously rolls down the window, toots the horn a good few times and shouts (outside voices now please) “GET IT UP YE!!!”. I gave it a try – I can confirm this is good for the soul.