“Don’t pack away the sun hat John. Walking in my base layer for the first time” says my log. Everything looked so good in the newly washed air. The snow topped hills at the top of the glen which had looked good yesterday evening now looked fantastic. I was so pleased I hadn’t gone on to Mar Lodge. My plan for today was to walk to the north east through Glen Quoich into Glen Gairn, and then follow that glen down to a convenient camp spot. The first move was to take the Clais Fhearnaig through to Glen Quoich.
Glen Quoich looked very much how one would expect a Scottish glen to look with ancient Caledonian Pines dotted around in a picturesque fashion, backed by large snow capped hills.
A good track took me up Quoich Water and then stopped. I crossed the river looking for signs of it carrying on to the east but there was nothing, so I made my own way up the south bank. After a while I noticed that there was something that looked like a path on the side I’d just crossed from, so it was boots off again and across to the north bank. This was a much more natural path than the well maintained track up the glen, and it wound its way up and down hillocks and around trees. After a while I met someone who was out for a day walk (it was Sunday), we chatted for a while and he told me the path was made-up again later on.
After a while the river and the path turned north into the heart of Ben a’ Bhuird and Ben Avon, and I was so engrossed in the scenery that I missed my turning into Glen Gairn.
A loud deep rumble had me scanning the edge of the corrie above for signs of an avalanche, but I couldn’t see one. Turning back I found a small cairn marking the way over into Glen Gairn and made my way over into another landscape. After passing some rather open flat ground I found myself in a steep sided glen with crags on either side. Surprisingly the floor of the glen just here is quite flat and has some nice lawns beside the river which would make a good camp spot, but it was too early for me.
A herd of deer looked down from Creag an Dail Bheag.
A little further on where a glen joins from the north there had been an avalanche with quite a volume of snow dropping almost vertically from the corniced crags. The snow was scattered right down the snow slope and onto scree slope below, and I think this must have been the sound I heard earlier.
There were no good camping spots for quite some way after this; not that I wanted one, it was still too early and in the sunshine I was quite happy to carry on. I ambled down the path to the second bridge.......
.....turned up to the track and my leg started hurting again. I limped down the track until I came to the Allt Coire an t-Sagairt where I sat down for a rest, knowing that if my leg didn’t get better there was some flat grass to camp on and some water a few yards away. I didn’t take long to convince myself that I should just put the tent up anyway, which I did in a half baked fashion.
It was disappointing to have stopped due to a bad leg, but two bags of boil in the bag rice with Dahl Tadka (Kudrati) made the world seem a better place, and although I’d had to stop early I had passed my planned stopping point. I had hoped that my leg would be better by now, and my real worry was how likely it was to crop up again. I spent a sunny evening reading short stories (the shorter the better), and after they’d depressed me enough I wrote my diary – including half a page for the following Wednesday, looked at maps and scenery, and listened to music. It was so good to be warm and dry.