Physically distanced above the Gairn

The gradual easing of lockdown has permitted travel farther afield for recreation and though our local "patch" has been full of interest and given great days of walking, it has been good to have some more freedom.  I met Allan and Lorna for a walk in the final days prior to the travel restriction end - we met up above the River Gairn which is more than the suggested 5 miles from home, but still local - and we have to travel more than 5 miles to shops anyway!

A SWRS sign leaning at a jaunty angle (it sees huge piles of snow here in the winter) indicates the route of a path to Tomintoul via Inchrory and the Avon and to Corgarff - the B976 Crathie to Gairnshiel road where we parked is on the line of a military road constructed in the 1700's.

A 450m high starting point gets you good views right from the start!  An overcast morning was forecast to develop into a very warm day and off to the south the cloud was already lifting from the summit of Lochnagar as we set out.

A gentle climb on an old track through the ruins of a township,over a subsidiary hill and then a couple of kilometres across wind-clipped heather soon brought us to the one hill on our planned route - Tom Breac (Speckled Hill).  I've climbed this hill previously and remarked on the views it offers - and today they were equally special. The sense of space and big sky is a real feature of this part of the eastern Highlands, it really is great walking country.  I was surprised to look back through the blog and see that my last visit here was 2011, where does the time go?

We stopped for coffee and to take in the view near the 696m/2283ft summit, a place which seems to be rarely visited by hillwalkers but more regularly by estate workers, there are a number of vehicle tracks here.  The sprawling mountain in the distance is Ben Avon (pronounced A'an), a giant among hills and which is visible from all across the north east when you get to any sort of height.

We were reversing my 2011 route and can report that this clockwise option is the better  way to climb Tom Breac, it's preferable to the stiff climb out from the valley of the Gairn.  As we descended the weather became very warm and the cloud cleared.  Lorna spotted a large Adder moving off the track just in front of us - sunny mornings are a good time to spot these beautiful creatures as they warm up on the stones of tracks.

We headed down to the River Gairn, a wild and relatively unfrequented river, towards the remains of Corndavon Lodge which must have been quite a place in its heyday - half of the building was destroyed by fire.  What remains is occasionally used as a luncheon spot for shooting parties on the Invercauld estate.  the splendid bridge over the river is new since 2011, my last crossing was on a shoogly wooden affair.  That said, an estate vehicle chose to ford the river rather than cross the bridge as there is some erosion near the ends of the structure.

A last look up Glen Gairn to Ben Avon, and another view full of space.  The plantings alongside the river are mixed native broadleaf and pine, planted has been aided by a charity with the intention of improving the habitat for freshwater molluscs.  Other work has been done on the river itself - large pine tree root-plates and stumps have been strategically placed in the water and backed by boulders with the intention of slowing the flow and creating gravelly pools for Salmon and Trout to spawn.  Years of milder winters have led to changes in the flow of the Gairn, reducing the volume quite significantly.

Our walk back to the starting point was on one of the smoothest estate tracks imaginable, which was welcome as it was now 26 degrees Celsius and pretty warm for walking.  The lower ground is dotted with former shielings and newer, but abandoned, farms, it must once have been quite well populated here.

Our route was 16 kilometres during which we saw just a couple of estate workers and a gamekeeper in his vehicle - a grand walk under blue skies and appropriately distanced from other folk!

Kingdom of the wind - down to earth

From the summit of Ben Avon my return route went northeast across the plateau to the tor of Stob Bac an Fhurain (Point of the bank of the spring).  From this outlying summit a broad ridge leads down to the dome of Da Druim Lom (Two bare ridges) above the River Avon.  Part way down the ridge is perhaps the most impressive of ben Avon's many granite tors - Clach Bun Rudhtair.

The view while descending this ridge is very fine, with Lochnagar particularly prominent across 20km of clear air.......

...but it was the view nearer at hand which really caught my attention.  Across the corrie, below West Meur Gorm Craig ("Meur Gorm" is blue finger) there's a tantaalising view of the green jewel of Lochan nan Gobhar (Little loch of the goats).  Highlighted in a flash of sunlight the water seemed intensely green and I mentally stored this as the destination for a future walk, perhaps even a wild camp.

From the top of the ridge Clach Bun Rudhtair had looked fairly insignificant, close to hand it's a formidable outcrop of weathered brown granite which reaches 25 metres above the ridge.  Despite its position quite low down the ridge, the top of this tor is at 914 metres or 3000ft.  The central blade has a "window" right through it and I scrambled up to take a look through - it's quite an awkward scramble and fairly tight at the window itself. 

Clach Bun Rudhtair (the name possibly translates as stone of the foot of the peat stack) was appropriatley described by Dr Adam Watson in the SMC guidebook to the Cairngorms as resembling Rhinoceros horns.  Below the tor the ground levels out before taking a final steep drop to reach the River Avon, where a short way downstream the main track from Inchrory up Glen Avon is met.

I'd spent many hours high up on Ben Avon where the predominant shades are those of muted greens and the delicate pinkish brown of Cairngorm granite.  When coming back down to a glen after a day high up the smells and colours always seem very striking, and on this day the effect was particularly noticeable on the track by the River Avon.

The damp ground adjacent to the track was studded with two of Scotland's carniverous plants, the pale green starfish-shaped Butterwort (Pinguicula vulgaris) and the deep red Round Leafed Sundew (Drosera rotundifola).  Both live on poor, wet ground and supplement the lack of soil by trapping insects on sticky parts of their leaves. 

The Butterwort's leaves curl over to digest the unfortunate insects trapped by the sticky surface with a cocktail of enzymes.  In the case of the Sundew, insects are trapped by a sticky "dew" secreted on the leaves and contact initiates a touch stimulus causing the nearest tentacles to bend inwards - remarkably this can start within ten seconds of an insect becoming trapped.  The leaves take about a day to close fully and remain shut for one to two weeks before opening to release indigistible parts of the insects.  Both species typically trap very small insects of about midge size, but Sundews can trap surprisingly large insects across several leaves.

Another plant of damper ground and a real late summer indicator is the Bog Asphodel (Narthecium ossifragum).  The flower spikes open to a brilliant yellow cluster on 10-20cm stems and seem to fairly glow in sunshine.  When the flowers have died in autumn the spikes of pale, bleached Bog Asphodels can last well into the winter.

On the track margins in dry and well drained ground were large areas of Wild Thyme (Thymus polytrichus), the intensely coloured flowers a magnet for bees and hoverflies in the warm sunshine.  Getting close to the plants to take photographs, the herbal scent was really strong - the leaves make a very tasty addition to wild camp meals too!

The flowers along the way helped to ease the 3km walk along the rough and stony track to Linn of Avon, a favourite spot which never loses its appeal.  I'd left my bike in the heather by the track here to speed the way back over the hill to my starting point at Cock Bridge.  The track climbing out from Inchrory over to the bowl of the Feith Bhait is quite steep...and was quite beyond me staying on the bike after 20km of hillwalking...I gave in gracefully at the bottom and pushed the bike up!

Fortunately it's pretty much all gently downhill from there on, finishing with a fast stretch of cycling on the tarmac estate track leading to the car park below the gaunt castle at Corgarff to end a really enjoyable day.

Kingdom of the wind - granite versus gale

The summit plateau of Ben Avon is a windswept sweep of cropped alpine vegetation studded with granite boulders and tors.  The summit of the hill is itself a highly featured tor and is visible from a long distances.

Since first acquaintance over 30 years ago I've loved the open nature and the huge skyscapes offered by the Cairngorm giants; in fact the whole area is a great upland plateau cut by steep glacial trenches to form individual hills and ranges.  The gravel flats of the higher ground look lifeless, but there are arctic specialists which prefer the conditions found up here....

...like the Ptarmigan (Lagopus mutus).  A member of the Grouse family, Ptarmigan are superbly adapted to sub-arctic and arctic conditions.  The Linnaean name Lagopus translates as "hare foot" and refers to the birds feathered feet which insulate against ice and snow.  The birds are superbly camouflaged, moulting to white in winter and then to mottled grey during the summer, and have feathers adapted to maximise body insulation. The nostrils are also protected by small feathers to warm the air before they breathe it in.

 Living high up the Scottish hills (in other regions the bird lives on arctic tundra at lower levels) gives Ptarmigan an advantage as there are few competitor species eating their food plants of bilberry, saxifrages and heather shoots supplemented by insects in summer.  The tough plants which the birds eat are difficult to digest, so in common with Red Grouse the birds ingest small quantities of grit which they use to help grind up plant shoots - the gut of a Ptarmigan is the largest of any bird as a proportion of body weight - they are in effect a flying gut!  The mottled grey summer plumage is superbly effective amongst boulders and grasses, often the birds are only noticed when they move; a good thing if you are a favoured prey of Eagles.  To preserve energy Ptarmigan prefer to walk around rather than fly any distance and are endearingly approachable - this bird moved around me quite unconcernedly, occasionally giving the unusual croaking call which is reflected in its name; an anglicised version of the Gaelic Tarmachan.

Animals and birds can either adapt to the harsh conditions of the Cairngorm plateau, or move downhill when things get really tough.  For plants that's not so easy, but there are subtle ways in which vegetation can adapt.  These lines of gravel demarcate "wind stripes" of prostrate heather growing tight to the ground aligned to the wind; in this image the prevailing wind is from behind the camera.  On the slope across the corrie the bare patches are deflation surfaces where the aspect is so exposed to the wind that little vegetation can survive; the surface itself is being lifted by the wind and deposited elsewhere on lee slopes.

Even the granite bedrock isn't immune to the effects of the wind. The numerous tors which stud the summit plateau of Ben Avon have holes worn into them which are partly formed by the wind.  Grit and tiny pebbles which were deposited by the wind are whirled around in rainwater, slowly deepening the depression.  Gradually the process forms these deep pots as larger stones and more water are able to accumulate.

Some become quite deep; this one was about half a metre into the rock and the process of the wind whirling the water and disturbing the grit at the bottom of the pool could actually be seen.  Near the top of this image, another hole is beginning to form.  In the face of Cairngorm gales, even granite gives way....

The summit of Ben Avon is a granite tor at 1171m/3842ft, named Leabaidh an Daimh Bhuidhe (couch (bed) of the yellow stag).  A short scramble gains the narrow crest of the tor, normally as on this day quite easy but not if it's plated in ice or lashed by the wind - or both!

From the summit there's a view across to Ben Avon's massive neighbour, Beinn a'Bhuird (table mountain) which has an even larger high plateau.  

The two Munros are linked by the narrow connecting bealach (col) of The Sneck which can be seen near the left of the image.  The two hills can be combined into a really big day's walking starting (for example) from Invercauld on Deeside, rewarding but shattering!  My own day on Ben Avon wasn't quite as long, but the "long walk in" inevitably means a long walk back out too...it was time for me to get moving again.

Kingdom of the wind - where plants walk

On the high plateaux of the Cairngorms, the wind rules everything. The great open areas of ground above 1100m / 3600ft are exposed to the full force of weather from every direction and are often swept by gales and winds of hurricane force, especially in winter. Gusts of over 170mph/280kph have been recorded and sustained wind speeds in excess of 100mph/160kph are common. Given these sorts of speeds, it's hardly surprising that the wind exerts influence over everything which lives on the high arctic-like plateaux, limiting possibilities and even determining landforms.

When planning walks on the high ground here, the wind is a primary consideration with strength and direction factored into the day's plan. After a run of windy days in mid July abated, I took a long walk on Ben Avon (pronounced "A'an" and named for the river at the mountains foot -the bright one). 

Any day out on Ben Avon will be a "big day"; this is the largest of the Cairngorm hills by area, some 12 kilometres NE to SW and 9 kilometres N to S - really a hill-range rather than a single mountain.  In addition to the large extent of the hill, the starting points for walks are at some distance from the summit.  The most logical starting point from my home is at Cock Bridge to the north east of the hill, and my route would be some 40 kilometres.  The wind was forecast to remain light until evening, when it would once again begin to increase.  Fortunately, a mountain bike can be used on the track leading from Cock Bridge past the source of the River Don and on to Inchrory and the Linn of Avon, meaning that I'd do around 20km on the bike and 20km on foot.

Above Inchrory, this dry ravine cuts steeply down through lime-rich rock, an unusual rock type for the Cairngorms and visible from quite a distance as a bright green patch among the more muted colours.  Ahead, the outlying slopes of Ben Avon beyond the river were still cloud-capped.  The MWIS forecast was for the cloud to lift gradually during the day; I hoped that it would be as accurate as it usually is.

The bike was left near the Linn of Avon and I headed uphill on a stalkers path past grouse butts.....

...towards the start of one of the ridges of Ben Avon at Carn Fiaclach (toothed (or notched) Cairn).  Beyond  and above the wood surrounding the lodge at Inchrory, my route of approach already seemed quite distant, the green slope leading down to the estate track and across the hills to Cock Bridge.

The bald summit of Meall Gaineimh (sandy hill) is passed on a path which winds through gravelly ground and past some of the distinctive granite tors which are such a feature of Ben Avon.  The walking is a delight, fast movement on small mountain paths once the initial ascent is done.

My route took me up to the granite ridge of East Meur Gorm Craig before descending slightly to the wide sweep of the appropriately named Big Brae (slope).  Even in mid summer there are significant snow patches in most years, and this is in part due to the wind.  Snow is either compacted by gales into any depression on a windward slope.....

.....or deposited on lee slopes and in corries to immense depths.  The snow patches irrigate the ground through the summer and give a foothold to alpine grasses and plants.

Up to around 1000 metres / 3300ft there's a mix of plants such as Alpine Lady's Mantle (Alchemilla alpina), a relative of the larger plant commonly seen in gardens.  A combination of grazing by deer and the scouring of the wind keeps the plant low-growing.

Higher up, and only the hardiest of plants can survive the harsh conditions.  Alternately frozen, baked, flooded and subject to drought and gale, plants need to be tough up here.  The Three-leaved Rush (Juncus trifidus) is a real Cairngorm plateau specialist, able to survive on the most exposed ground where few other plants are able to apart from mosses and lichens.  Talking of "trifid", the 1951 Sci-Fi book by John Wyndham, later made into a classic 1962 movie - "Day of the Triffids" - features a species of plant capable of "walking" locomotion.  Here on the Cairngorm plateau, there are species of plants which can do just that, albeit slowly.

This Crowberry (Empetrum nigrum sp) started life in the lee of the small boulder at the bottom of the image.  It has grown away from the prevailing wind, putting out small roots as it goes seeking a more sheltered spot, curving around the boulder near the top of the image.  The original rootstock and stem are now dead and completely detached from the ground.  In some examples of this sort of downwind movement, the track of individual plants over decades and perhaps centuries can be traced by the absence of lichens on the rocks over which they have moved. 

This Crowberry also has a reproductive trick to help it survive the harsh environment, it is of the sub-species hermaphroditum which has bisexual flowers to increase the chances of fertilisation, and smaller, stubbier foliage to resist the hostile weather.  A real life "Triffid" !

A gentle rise to the SW now took me to the highest plateau of Ben Avon, a broad ridge leading towards the tor which forms the summit.  I emulated the plants and sheltered behind a large boulder to rest and eat, there wwas still plenty of walking ahead....