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2020/21 being what it is, we had a fair few cancelled bookings for nice trips away outstanding. We rebooked what would have been an anniversary trip to a random Monday/Tuesday in July, the theory being that every holiday is mildly improved by knowing as many other people are at work as possible. As we had a posh hotel in Perthshire awaiting us, it only seemed fair that we turn up as hot, sweaty and covered in mud as possible, so we decided to head up to the Drumochter pass to grab a couple of Munros we often drive past but rarely stop at.
Full of the sunshine we have come to expect on hill days, we parked in the layby and made the most dangerous walk of the day, across the A9.
The obvious landrover track meanders up the slope, and the reasonably gentle ascent allows for lots of philosophy (why do we do this) natural history (what the hell was that bird) and linguistics (*****).
Once at the bealach where the path diverges, we took the one most travelled by, and headed to Carn na Caim first. With the wonderful benefit of hindsight I think it would have been better the other way round (this being the easier hill), but no-one was made rich by knowing the answer afterwards. Having ticked off the Carn na Caim summit, we forwent the usual summit lunch (it being far too early to justify such profligacy), and meandered peaceably back to the central point.
Absolutely glorious day to be wandering the Cairngorms. Dotterel, golden plover, and more mountain hares that we thought possible kept us engaged throughout the walk- the wide open spaces are superb for wildlife spotting, and a fantastic remedy after months confined to the central belt. And not another soul around all day- the huge advantage of a/ walking on a weekday, and b/ heading to the less distinguished peaks during peak season, when Ben Lomond would have been standing room only.
The gpx route to A' Bhuidheanach Bheag is quite frankly a little suspicious in places, but with clear views as to the end goal not an issue. It would certainly get you there in poor weather, but perhaps not by the most efficient means. However, get there we did, and this time succumbed to the siren call of a slightly crushed cheese sandwich.
At this point however, the clouds starting rolling across the hills like a Games of Thrones episode, and we thought to head back in an attempt to defy the forecast that we would be swimming the final descent.
Having rather smugly avoided all rain the whole day, we took the opportunity for a dunk in the burn at the bottom, the temperatures being over 15 degrees and therefore wholly unsuitable for Scottish activities. Also gave us a nicely wild look for the return to the hotel, where we were politely invited to use the "sportsman's entrance."
