Spectator Sport on Deeside Double

[old danensian]

West, north or east, geology and glaciation combine to allow our mountains to display different characteristics and allow us to enjoy them in different ways.

In the west, intimidating peaks and ridges cluster together. Corbetts jostle among Munros, aspiring to emulate their bigger brothers. Like the chorus in an opera, or the corps de ballet as the principals take centre-stage, they enjoy a privileged position as an integral part of the spectacle and challenge.

In the far north Corbetts and Munros alike simply protrude. They spurt from the landscape of the Flow Country, each proud on their own. Their relative height appears an irrelevance. Scaling them, each can be an equivalent achievement.

Meanwhile, in the east, the Corbetts stand to one side, frequently sat in the stalls. They wait in the wings at best. Their gentler slopes provide easier access for the audience to dwell at ease while identifying the stars across the distant Cairngorm plateau stretching across the horizon.

With thirty-six hours to enjoy, I wasn’t up for a challenge. Knowing I needed to get more hill-miles onto my legs, the lure of this last group appealed. There’d be no need for a bleary-eyed start from home in the dark. I could enjoy an evening in the little green hotel by a river. The bagger in me could see a couple more ticks ticked off. And I’d still arrive home well in time for tea the following day.

So, Braemar beckoned.

Carn na Drochaide
01.04.25
14km; 655m; 5h

With just a couple of cars and a campervan parked at the Linn of Quoich in the early afternoon, it didn’t look like it was going to be a busy day. A small group were heading off towards the big house at Allanaquoich, but that was the last I saw of them, or any other humanity for the rest of the day.

A "Drochaide" - but maybe not "The Drochaide"

Following the trail up Glen Quoich, and taking each right fork as it arrived, allowed a leisurely enjoyment of Deeside at its best. Below, strands of The Dee reflected the blue sky above, lingering autumnal bracken spread a rusty carpet below the gleaming grey trucks of silver birch in the woodland and, as the track gradually climbed, a fringe of snow could be seen on the edge of Beinn a Bhuird.

A gentle stroll through the young conifers ...

... and on to the open moorland - with Beinn a Bhuird appearing in the distance

... and past a marker cairn on the slopes of Carn na Criche - with the low-slung profile of Carn na Drochaide across the skyline beyond

Above the treeline the dull brown heather was beginning to sparkle as white buds were starting to appear and small vivid green shoots were emerging. After a few twists and turns, a small cairn marked the start of a faint groove heading up through the heather to the outlying, stone-shattered top of Carn na Criche.

Beinn a Bhuird from the cairn on Carn na Criche

From here you could see the attraction of doing the walk anti-clockwise. Striding across to the summit cairn of Carn na Drochaide, the views of Ben Avon, Beinn a Bhuird, and beyond to the main bulk of the Cairngorm plateau, are all behind you. But, what the hell. I wasn’t as tired as I might have been, and there was going to be plenty of time to hang around on the top to enjoy the views in all directions.

A more benign approach across to Carn na Drochaide

Looking across to the Lochnagar group from Carn na Drochaide

Again, here’s Corbett that, in itself, is no great shakes. It’s a rounded hump. It has no fluted gullies or soaring ridge or towering pinnacles. It’s simply there to enjoy the spectator sport of mountain spotting. Which is what I did for ages, while pondering the prospect of a somewhat steeper descent, for which I had plenty of time.

Heading back down to Deeside - avoiding the cleft of Clais nan Cat

And, rather than haring back home to crawl from the car stiff and sore, I sauntered along the glen back to the Linn of Quoich doing all that sensible stretching and cooling down. I could potter, amble and ease tiring, but not knackered limbs before heading to a favoured waterside spot alongside the Clunie Water to spend the night.

Over The Dee to Carn na Drochaide and Creag a Chleirich

A brew, a malt and some shortbread - the perfect camping sundowner by the Clunie Water

Morven
02.04.24
8.75km; 680m; 4h

The frozen shards of milk falling into my muesli the following morning suggested that it had been a tad cooler than I’d expected overnight. Still, foresight meant I had my four-season bag in which to snuggle back down and make a brew before shaking any more rime from the inside of the tent.

Morven was another of those outliers that promised to offer fine views of its bigger neighbours. It didn’t disappoint, and neither did the early morning drive along Deeside in all its glory, with patches of yellow gorse adding to the rusts, greys and myriad greens on display.

The lower slopes of Morven from by the Groddie Burn

The ruin of Balhennie - not many Cat 1s to be found in the Home Report for this prospective purchase

Morven’s lower slopes provide little joy. Like the day before, a groove in the heather shows the way above the ramshackle remains of the Balhennie cottage. So, it’s a trudge, one that gets the legs and lungs going, but only for a short while. After which, if you’ve already skimmed the guidebooks, you’ll already know that a succession of crests and cairns threaten to lure you into a false sense of arrival. Suffice to say, you get there in the end. While rewarding on a bright and clear day, it must be frustrating when enveloped in clag and poor visibility. Even the trig point is a few metres away from the largest cairn.

No, it's not this one ...

... and it's not this one either ...

... but it is this one - a splendid lunch spot with a distant view of the Cairngorm plateau

But again, here’s a spectator’s armchair from which the surrounding distant heights can be enjoyed at arm’s length. Alright, it’s another hump. However, its uninspiring title as simply “the big hill” belies its character and the quality of the day out enjoying it.

After retracing steps past the false-top cairns there’s a welcome alternative descent that avoids the steep initial slope above the cottage. Heading south after the imaginatively named “Little Cairn,” the stalkers’ track following the Coinlach Burn can be taken back to Balhennie – the car – and home.

With a smile on my face rather than the grimace of previous outings.