The Lairig Ghru is a name which reaches back into my young childhood. Around the same time as my Dad read Tolkein to me, he also told me about the hillwalking trip he took through the Cairngorms when he was fifteen; back in the mid 1950s. Somehow the two things seemed to merge into my young mind, which filed all these mental images under the headings 'mythical' and 'wonderful'. Braeriach, The Forest of Rothiemurchus, Corrour Bothy, Derry Lodge or The Pools of Dee sounded as evocative and far away as Rivendell, The Lonely Mountain, The Shire or The Running River. These are names to enjoy pronouncing, conjuring up images of hobbits on quests or 1950s schoolboys on life-shaping adventures. Rather wonderfully however, The Cairngorms turn out to be real, and accessible.
The Lairig Ghru is described by mountain writer Cameron McNeish as "one of Scotland's truly great walks", and one I have wanted to do for decades. A 'Lairig' is a pass through the mountains, and this one, the Lairig Ghru, allows the walker to cut through the heart of the great Cairngorm range, the old Monadh Ruadh; from Deeside, near Braemar to Speyside near Aviemore. This great heart of eastern Scotland is unpenetrated by roads; even the estate tracks and engineered paths of the beginning and end of the route peter out in the high pass, and boots meet mountains directly without human intercession. It is not entirely natural land (left to its own devices it would be far more forested); but it is undeniably wild land. The mountain rescue service is kept busy here, and sadly not all their expeditions reach happy conclusions; these are not hills in which to get lost, cold, or injured alone. Yesterday, we faced a forecast which was wet and cold, but at the end of an unusually hot summer there was no chance of meeting any lingering snow - which seems to have caused the most problems over the years, lying deep in the Lairig until remarkably late in the year.
The great defile of the Lairig Ghru is visible from Aviemore, a great gash in the bulky skyline above the woods. Sadly, Aviemore is now visible from the Laiig Ghru, a particularly ugly concrete hotel dominates, whose architect should win some sort of incongruity lifetime achievement award. The southern end of the Lairig Ghru isn't visible from any public road, because there aren't any there; the view up the pass from that end has to be earned by walking or cycling from Linn of Dee either via Derry Lodge and Glen Luibeg or via the White Bridge. I seem to have seen this great walk from all angles over the years, yet never been able to complete the walk, usually for logistical reasons - it's a two car effort, with a long drive in at the end of the day. I've seen it from Braeriach, from Monadh Mhor and walked down into it from the Chalamain Gap; but yesterday (at last!), I had the opportunity to do the complete Linn of Dee to Rothiemurchus route.
One of my neighbours, organised a group, and left a car at Rothiemurchus at the end of her family holiday in Aviemore. Four of us drove through Glen Shee, to Braemar and left my car at the big carpark at Linn of Dee (£3 a day, Pay and Display now!). From here the engineered Glen Luibeg path is well signposted, and snakes its way through the woods, meeting a bulldozed track all the way to Derry Lodge. Derry Lodge, all shuttered and forlorn, was once apparently a busy shooting lodge, full of Victorian and Edwardian hunting parties; busy with the sounds of dogs, the smells of feasts and whisky and adventure. Walking with friends old and new, we mused about what a melancholy sight it now is, and what a wonderful mountain bunkhouse it would make if someone had the time, money, inclination and could get permission.
The footbridge at Derry Lodge has a signpost pointing westwards to the Lairig Ghru at the far end of it. I remember getting caught in bogs at the next section a couple of times, but it was hard underfoot yesterday - despite the persistently falling rain. It needs to keep raining for a while yet, to replenish the deficit of a bone-dry summer. We had no need, in fact, to search for the 'hidden' bridge at Luibeg - the water was so low, we walked straight across at the ford.
(Looking into the Larig Ghru from a previous trip to Monadh Mhor)
It's here, beyond the Luibeg Burn, that the walk changes in character - and the excitement begins. As the path winds gently uphill underneath the Munro Carn a Mhaim, The Devil's Peal looms into view. Yesterday, it was magnificent, great slabs of wet, grey rock thrusting skywards into the clouds. Perhaps an appropriate metaphor for such a sight is Tolkeinesque. Either way, it is as the gentle and broad landscape of Glenn Lui is left behind that the Middle Earth of my childhood imagination is entered. Despite the rain, and the plummeting temperatures - it was really magnificent; I couldn't think of anywhere I'd rather have been.
The little bothy at Corrour is a well-known landmark; nestling in the Larig Ghru beneath the Devil's Point and the Angel's Peak. My Dad camped here all those years ago; I can only imagine what a tent made of heavy-duty canvas must have weighed! My kids have camped here on DofE expeditions too. I have previously passed this spot, in the way to and from the adjacent Munros. The usual loose association of good natured hill-folk were hiding in the bothy yesrerday lunchtime, travellers from Scotland, Wales and England - some staying the night, others just sheltering from the rain. We had a brew-up, a chat with the folks there, and layered up, before heading back out into the rain, and biting wind. The path is clear, and follows the east side of the glen floor, past a stone named as the Clach nan Taillear. A stone with a name, might indicate a memorial to some ancient tragedy - the hills and weather certainly looked foreboding as we climbed into the heart of the mountains. If we had felt large and confident, striding through the woods to Derry Lodge, we now looked like little hobbits beneath the huge peaks of Cairntoul and Ben Mandui looming either side.
The path runs into a boulder field by the Pools of Dee at the head of the Lairig. There are no problems here, other than a far slower rate of progress than is possible either side; and the path braids and re-joins repeatedly. Nevertheless it's a quick descent down to the trough where the Braeriach path drops in from the left and the Chalamain Gap path climbs out to the right. The time I walked through the Gap, on my own, very early one morning, the moon was huge - and eerily framed in the Gap itself.
The path descends rapidly into the wonderful Rothiemurchus forest. This living remnant of the Great Caledonian Forest is soft; teeming with life and aromatic. The midgies were in their element here too; and soon our party reeked with the ghastly odour of Skin-So-Soft; allegedly the best defence against the little pests. Smelling like a bunch of Grannies at a perfume convention, and surrounded by a cloud of swirling black dots we picked out way through the woods, to the landmark of the Cairngorm Club Footbridge and on towards the waiting car at the road by the campsite. The engineered paths here are well made and as a result bog-free. They are also rock-hard, and several miles of pounding them made my feet ache. My lovely old walking boots are in their last days of useful life, the uppers are wearing and the soles are desperately thin. They no longer grip much, or provide much cushioning from the relentless thumping, and will soon be put out of their misery. As a result, by the time we completed our 20miles, (47,000 steps according to a Fitbit wearer), I was glad to see the car and lift my feet from the boots.
The day was completed with dropping one walker to the station at Aviemore, while the rest of us drove via Tomintoul and the Lecht, to collect my car at Linn of Dee for the return drive to Perth. Sadly, the chippy in Braemar was closing so there was no fish, or pies, or haggis to be had; happily the owner was glad to hand us three portions of chips, completely free. It was past closing time, and they would be thrown out otherwise!
The Lairig Ghru is a classic Scottish Walk. I'm glad to have finally followed in my Dad's footsteps (and er.... those of Bilbo obviously); and walked all the way through. I love these mountains, and get there so rarely. The day was made complete by safe travels and great company.
No comments:
Post a Comment