In Cairngorm Sun on Bynack More

Cairngorms slopes from Bynack More

Mrs Hideous has on occasion been heard to comment that if the sunshine could be relied upon, then she would never want to holiday away from Scotland. As I drove up the grim North road yesterday, through badly organised roadworks, behind slow trucks and caravans, with the mountains of Drumochter looking menacing and foreboding through torrents of rain - I reflected on the wisdom of her words. Sitting in traffic on the A9, in driving rain under a darkening grey sky - hardly inspires. The thought of putting on waterproofs and walking up a hill straight into the teeth of such weather was as sickening as the thought of the warmth of the bed I dragged my reluctant limbs out of that morning, was attractive. Had I not had an arrangement to meet Dr K at Glenmore Lodge, the observable weather and the gloomy forecast of rain and high winds to come would certainly have beaten me back.

Much to my surprise however, as I dropped down from Drumochter the rain began to ease. Accelerating past Dalwhinnie (the mobile roadblock of caravan coupled to underpowered car plus inept driver, turned off towards Fort William, the west coast and countless more drivers to unnecessarily delay), I noticed a patch of blue sky to the North and thought that maybe a walk was on. By the time I had got to Newtonmore the patch of blue was dominating the sky, and by Aviemore the scene, dominated by the looming Cairngorm bulk, was lit by bright sunshine. When I met Dr K. at Glenmore Lodge, he was doing serious work with the sun-cream.

Leaving sparkling Lock Morlich and its hundreds of watersports enthusiasts behind us, we took the track that runs from Glenmore Lodge alongside the Alt na Feith Duibhe to the clear green waters of the An Lochan Uaine. As is common all over the Cairngorm National Park, progress along the long miles to the hills is accelerated by the provision of excellent tracks and maintained paths. At the car, the planned waterproof layers had been dispatched to the rucksack, and within a mile or two of striding through the warm fragrant pine woodland, fleecy jumpers were similarly discarded. The track cuts through a delightful notch in the hills as it curves round to Ryvoan Bothy on the Braemar path. We forked off, away from the bothy and round into beautiful Strath Nethy, and a useful little footbridge across its broad, powerful outflow (below).

Once over the river, we took the obvious (and eroded) path which ascends the shoulder of Bynack More's long northern ridge. The path forks on the ridge, the historic right of way descending to the east of the mountain towards the Fords of Avon and the Lairig an Laiogh, and a newer Munro-baggers track towards the summit. Somewhat predictably, and in the company of several other walking parties, we struck southwards and upwards, over several rocky false-summits to the splendid viewpoint of Bynack More. In blazing sunshine, with views accross the Cairngorm massif to Cairngorm itself and distant Ben Macdui, as well as Northwards out across the vast lowlands of Speyside we eventually (revealing a startling lack of fitness) made the summit. Returning by the same route - and with no hint of the promised high winds and rain, we made Glenmore Lodge and fresh supplies of drinks, in good time, despite aching feet and the tingle of freshly tinged skin.

If the weather in Scotland was like this all the time - who'd ever go anywhere else?

Distant Bynack More and Bynack Beg down Strath Nethy