". . . Wild solitudes, lenthen’s the deep, where the sheep’s bleat or that rare sound, the harsh
The Cairngorms – a lofty range of hills which rise from the highlands of central Scotland – stand near the boundary line between the counties of Aberdeen and Inverness, and are approached most nearly by the railway at Aviemore. The old name for the Cairngorms was the Monadh Ruadh rnage, meaning the Red Hills, as opposed to the Monadh Liadh, or Grey Hills, which rise from the north bank of the Spey. The range has received its later title from the hill of Cairn Gorm which, perhaps because of the colour it assumed before rain, was named A’ Charn Gorm, the Blue Hill.
Of the lofty hills on the Cairngorm range the highest is Ben MacDhui, 4296 feet above sea-level. Ben MacDhue, a huge rounded hill, does not appear so high or so majestic as some of the surrounding peaks. The western peaks of the Cairngorms are the most imposing. Brae Riach (4248 feet) looks down into that great abyss known as Garbh Choire Mor, the Great Rough Corrie, while Cairn Toul (4241 feet) has a sharp and rugged peak which calls to mind a hill of the western seaboard.
Although they are the only hill range in Britain with four hills each exceeding 4000 feet in height, the Cairngorms are a range for the walker rather than the rock climber. Each of the summits is easy to reach, and the range is unique in splendid plateaux, such as that great expanse of wild country between Ben MacDhui and Cairn Gorm and the lofty plateau of Brae Riach where one may walk at a height of 4000 feet, or above it, from the summit cairn to the Wells of Dee, about a mile and a half to the west.
A feature of the Cairngorm range is their passes. The Lairig Ghru, the grandest hill pass in the British Isles, traverses the heart of the Cairngorm range, and at the watershed between Spey and Dee is 2700 feet above sea-level. Close to the watershed the old Right of Way through the pass skirts the Pools of Dees (which must not be confused with the Wells of Dee, on the Brae Riach plateau) and then follows Glen Dee below the vast slopes of Ben MacDhui, Brae Riach, and Cairn Toul. As it enters Glen Dee the track passes in sight of the wild Garbh Choire and at the far end of that corrie the traveller may see, in any month of the summer, a snow bed which is generally believed to remain unbroken from one year to another and to be the remnant of a glacier. Shortly after passing the entrance of Garbh Choire, Larig Ghru passes near a stalker’s bothy, now uninhabited, then skirts the base of a spur of the Cairngorms known as Carn a’ Mhaim and, as it approaches the clear stream of Glen Luibeg, comes in sight of the outposts of the old pine forest which clothes upper Deeside. One of these ancient trees – a veteran which has withstood the winter storms and blizzards of drifting snow for more than a hundred years – is known as Craobh an Oir, the Tree of Gold. At the stalker’s cottage of Luibeg the Lairig reaches the beginning of the road which leads down to the public road at the Linn of Dee, some six miles above Braemar.
The track through the Lairig Ghru used to be kept in a much better state of repair than it is in today, for at the boulder-strewn watershed it was kept clear of stones to permit of the driving of sheep and cattle through the pass to the great sales at Falkirk, or to the smaller sale that was held each year at Braemar.
Down the face of Carn a’ Mhaim runs a great trench-like channel. This scar was made rather more than thirty years ago, and the old watcher who lived in the Corrour bothy in summer game me a graphic account of the event. One hot July day thunder clouds gathered towards afternoon, and twilight enveloped Glen Dee. With a rending crash a cloudburst struck the ridge of Carn a’ Mhaim, and a torrent of turgid water rushed down the hillside, while almost simultaneously a second cloudburst struck the Devil’s Point, a steep rocky hill on the farther side of Glen Dee. Sand, stones, and even large boulders were swept down by these sudden torrents to the river Dee, damming up the young river, and causing a loch to form at the place.
The Lairig Ghru I have described first, since it is undoubtedly the finest pass of the Cairngorms, but two other interesting passes traverse the range – one to the west, the other to the east – of Lairig Ghru. The western pass goes by way of Glen Fershie, where many fine old pine trees grow, and after crossing the watershed descends to Glen Dee by way of Glen Geldie.
The eastern pass of the Cairngorms is Lairig Laoigh, the Calves’ Pass, which traditionally derives its name from the calves which were in the old days driven across it. Lairig Laoigh crosses the river A’an at a ford which has the name Ath nam Fiann – the Ford of the Fingalians. The river A’an itself, if the oldest traditions of the country are believed, is in reality Ath Fhin, Fingal’s Ford. About a mile up the river from the ford is a very grand hill loch, by the name of Loch A’an, which in my opinion equals Loch Coruisk in Skye in its beauty. On the shore of Loch A’an is the Shelter Stone, a huge bolder resting upon lesser stones, and forming beneath it a rude cavity where many walkers and climbers pass a night.
After leaving Loch A’an, Lairig Laoigh rises to the watershed at the head of Glen Derry, and traverses Glen Derry to Luibeg. Lairig Laoigh has not been used for the best part of a century as a drove road, yet the old track remains, and it can be seen how the cattle and calves and sheep spread out over the ground where the slopes were smooth, and formed tracks here, and how in difficult country the animals progressed in single file, so that the path here is still narrow and deeply marked.
There are many fine climbs on the Cairngorms. The most popular is perhaps that to the summit of Ben MacDhui (from the Deeside or Braemar side of the range) and to the summit of Cairn Gorm (from the Strathspey side of the hills).
The right of way up Ben MacDhui begins at Derry Lodge and traverses Glen Derry, where old pine trees – remnants of the early Caledonian forest – grow at a height approaching 2000 feet above sea-level. Near the head of the glen the track winds away towards the west and enters a wind-swept corrie, Coire Etchachan, at the head of which the climber comes unexpectedly upon Loch Etchachan, a loch which is just over 3000 feet above sea-level, and which usually held by the winter ice until late May. From Loch Etchachan to the summit of Ben MacDhui the ascent is a gradual one. To the northeast of the hill-top the right of way passes near a very large snow bed, which after a snowy winter may remain un-melted throughout the summer. Shortly before reaching the summit cairn of the hill, the path leads close to a small ruined building which was used by the Sappers when they were surveying the Cairngorms nearly one hundred years ago. The view from the summit of Ben MacDhui is of great extent, and hills at a distance of one hundred miles are visible. Ben MacDhui is distinctive among the Cairngorms because of its vastness and, with its many small corries and numerous slopes, and in the Cairngorms it is always advisable to carry a compass.
From Aviemore, undoubtedly the most popular climb in the Cairngorms is the ascent of Cairn Gorm (4048 feet) from Loch Morlich. At the east end of Loch Morlich the pine forest, which descends almost to the loch, ends at a shore of golden sand.
The ascent of Cairn Gorm by the right of way from the head of Loch Morlich presents no difficulty to the average walker. It is certainly the easiest climb to 4000 feet in Scotland. A short distance northeast of the hilltop, out of sight of the path, is a curious hollow, known as Ciste Mearad, Margaret’s Chest or Coffin. The history of the name is an interesting one. Long ago when MacIntosh, Chief of Clan Chattan, had power of life and death over his clansmen, the chief condemned a young man to be hung for some crime, perhaps sheep stealing. The youth’s sweetheart implored that mercy should be shown to her betrothed, but when her entreaties and her tears were unavailing, she laid a curse on the Chief of Clan Chattan, saying that the lands and the chiefship should never descend from father to son. It is a remarkable fact that tragedy has followed the family from that time. Having pronounced this dread curse, the woman’s mind became deranged, and she wandered aimlessly over the hills, and, according to one tradition, her body was ultimately found in the hollow which now bears her name. Snow remains in Ciste Mearad throughout most summers, and usually lingers there from one year to another.
There is another large snowfield on Cairn Grom, named Cuidhe Crom, the Crooked or Bent Snowfield. It is in a steep corrie to the west of the hilltop, and in clear weather is visible from Golspie and Dunrobin on the far side of the Moray Firth. Not far from Ciste Mearad is a spring of clear water at which, so it is said, the Marquis of Huntly drank when he and his men, after the Battle of Glen Liver, pursued the Campbells and their chief, MacCailein, with fury to the west.
Once a friend and I climbed Cairn Gorn, and spent the night on its summit. When we awoke, the sun shone brilliantly and the sky was deep blue. Fifty miles to the west Ben Nevis rose on the horizon with snowfields which glistened in the clear air. North, across the Moray Firth, rose the great bulk of Ben Wyvis; east, the peak of Lochnagar in the Royal Forest of Balmoral was distinct. We walked to the small cairn that marks the spur known as Carn Lochan, and looked over the precipice upon the small loch which nestles deep in that sunless corrie. Each winter the snow is drifted heavily into the corrie, and at the beginning of summer during the first spell of warm weather and avalanche often thunders down the corrie. Then the ice-bound surface of the tarn (the water is usually covered with winter ice until June) is piled high with huge blocks of icy snow which often roll by reason of their great impetus right across the surface of the loch on to the firm ground beyond it.
The Cairngorm range may be said to be divided into two parts by the Lairig Ghru. To the western Cairngorms belong those two fine hills Brae Riach and Cairn Toul, the more rounded summits of Beinn Bhrotain and Monadh Mor, the sharp rocky cone known as Bod an Diabhail, or the Devil’s Point, and the western sentinel of the range, Sgoran Dubh. The western Cairngorms have no well-established right of way, and accordingly walkers and climbers would do well to avoid the corries during the stalking season – that is, during the month of September and the first fortnight of October. The western Cairngorms are almost entirely deer-forest country – a vast deer-forest without a single tree in its higher parts, and the deer-forests of Glen Feshie, Mar, and Rothiemurchus all march on the western Cairngorms.
From Strathspey the usual way up Brae Riach is along Glen Eaniach to what is known as the First Bothy, where a path strikes up the slopes of Brae Riach. This track passes near a very high and lonely loch, Loch Coire an Lochain, in a north-facing corrie of Brae Riach.
From the loch to the summit of Brae Riach is a climb of some 700 feet, the last part along what is sometimes known as the Plateau of Brae Riach. Here, at a height of 4000 feet, are the Wells of Dee. The young river, which beautifies the valley of Deeside enters the sea at Aberdeen, appears on the surface as a clear spring which flows quietly across the comparatively level ground of the plateau before falling in a series of long cascades over the rocks of the Garbh Choire. This plateau more closely resembles the Artic than any other land in Scotland I know. Sometimes I have visited the Wells of Dee in the month of June and have found the whole plateau beneath snow, and the wells hidden beneath ice and snow.
Bird life on the Cairngorms is more plentiful than on most of the highland hills. The Cairngorm range may be said to be the headquarters of the hardy clan of the ptarmigan and of their old enemy the golden eagle, generally known as the king of birds. The climber on the Cairngorms sometimes sees a drama of the air played before his eyes. He sees many ptarmigan flying high, and with aimless terror, at great speed across the sky, and in pursuit of them the dark form of a golden eagle. The eagle captures his prey on the ground in preference to the air, but occasionally he may be seen to seize one of the fleeing ptarmigan in his talons and carry it off to the eyrie. In winter, when the ptarmigan have assumed their white winter plumage, they have a hard time when (as often happens) the weather is mild and there is no snow on the hills. In their white plumage they are then a conspicuous mark to the passing eagle, and so well do they realize this that they spend most of their day near any snowdrift, knowing that they are invisible to the great bird of prey so long as they remain on the snow.
The golden eagle and the ptarmigan are the two birds par excellence of the Cairngorms; the red deer and the mountain hare are the two chief animals of the range.
The last occasion on which I climbed Cairn Gorm was on a June night. At that season of summer there is no darkness in the Scottish highlands, and in the twilight the white expanse of Cuidhe Crom appeared faint and unreal. As I reached the higher slopes of the hill I could see the Moray Firth lying pale in the dusk far to the north, and at intervals the bright flashes of light from the lighthouse on Tarbat Ness. It was still twilight when my friend and I reached the cairn on the hilltop, and a lemon-coloured moon was shining through the light clouds which floated almost motionless far above the hill. The great expanse of high ground which extends from Cairngorm to Ben MacDhui might well have been the tundra of some Arctic land, for great fields of unbroken snow lay upon it. Beside one of these snowfields we found a ptarmigan’s nest. The birds were asleep, and after a time, as the dawn strengthened, we heard the cock utter his distinctive snorting croak from somewhere near us.
As we crossed the great tableland which lies to the west of the hilltop the light of the young day was slowly strengthening and the moon gradually lost her warm glow. As the sun was rising large and red on the north-east horizon we reached Lochan Buidhe, which lies about 3800 feet above sea-level and is the highest tarn on the Cairngorms. The air was very cold as we reached this shallow lochan – so cold that we saw with surprise spears of young ice growing from the banks out into the still dark water. We had walked through the night, and as the sun climbed a little way above the horizon and began to shine with warmth on the hill slope above the lochan we lay down upon the soft lichens and grass that grew between the stones and were soon fast asleep. There is no sleep more sweet and refreshing than experienced in the open air in summer after sunrise and after a night of walking, and after two hours of deep slumber we awakened almost at the change wrought on the face of nature during those two magic hours when the world of mankind in the glens and cities far beneath us were asleep. When we had fallen asleep the soft lights and shadows of sunrise had lain upon hill, glen and corrie, and distant hills were faint and mysterious.
One year I remember when the weather remained cold until the very end of June. I visited the plateau during the opening days of July. The snow was then melting fast but the vegetation was brown and apparently lifeless. Twelve days later I again climbed to the plateau. The transformation was so great that I could scarcely believe my eyes. The young grass was of a rich most delicate green; the creeping shoots of the mountain willow – salix herbacea – had as though be magic clothed themselves with small green leaves, , which sought to hide themselves as best they might from the strong hill winds. The rosettes of the cushion pink – brown and storm-harried a fortnight before – were now green and covered with small dark red buds. A week later, these buds had opened and the plateau was tinged with pink and red. The cushion pink is, to my mind, the most delightful flower of the Cairngorms. It grows on the highest summits often where no other vegetation is present, and its small, honey-scented flowers, relieve the sternness of these wild summits and attract the black hill moth and the wandering mountain bee.