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Some Munros inspire. Some others are guilty pleasures. Some are a good training ground. And then there are the "why do we bother" Munros.
In case of An Sgarsoch and Carn an Fhidhleir, I can't really imagine anyone being inspired by them. People climb them, because they are Munros. They may seem a bit of a challenge for day-walker due to their remote location. Yes, it's more about "how to get there" rather "how to climb them". The Munros themselves are (I'm describing my feelings as I experienced them) boring, round, not too wet but not too dry, don't offer much of a view, annoying, windy, well, generally just a couple of BHLs (boring heathery lumps). But reaching them... hayyyyyy, that's a whole different story!
Of course the distance (43km from Linn of Dee) can be walked if you are fit and fast. We decided to take bikes to speed it up, but almost forgot how long it takes to drive from Inverness to Braemar over the high pass with additional weight attached to the car. We arrived in Linn of Dee at half past nine, at least weather looked decent at the moment and midges were not too aggressive...
Our route:
I was told that the Geldie track was similar, definitely not much worse than the approach to Maoille Lunndaidh, which we cycled up and down a couple of months back. Therefore, I was confident I would manage on my bike, despite my personal hate for rough cycling terrain.
It was all right to start with, a few loose stones but generally, a decent track, and views were encouraging:
As we progressed, the track was slowly getting more stony and in places it was back to head-wobbling and teeth-chattering:
River Dee was not in spate just yet, but rather full and I was already concerned about two crossings that awaited us further on:
A quick breather by White Bridge, Panther impatient to push on...
Past the bridge, the track improved again if only for a short distance, but weather was getting darker and more moody, we wondered how long it will last till the first shower arrives!
After passing the first ruined building (where Geldie Burn flows into River Dee) we stopped again as the saddle on my bike needed adjusting. I was already a bit annoyed with the experience, rough going by my standards, and the worst was yet to come!
The long, painful push to the ford over Allt Dhaidh Mor was a true torture, of course I lost my balance a couple of times and flew off my saddle, ending up with bruised knees and elbows. I kept telling myself, this is the worst part of it, it can only improve from here... Maybe if weather was better, I might feel more chuffed, but the cloud was thickening and a strong wind was blowing straight in to our faces, slowing us down even more. It never rains...
We reached Allt Dhaidh Mor to find out that a digger was working on the ford (evening it probably?) and we had to find a place to cross (with bikes) a few meters down the stream. Eventually we managed to get across, but water was high in this river, making me worried about Geldie Burn. We cycled a few hundred meters further and as soon as we saw Geldie Burn, we knew this was the end of our cycling part:
We chained bikes together and left them by the ford, then spent another 10 min or so working out, how to get to the other side without taking boots off for wading. Somehow we succeeded
As we stood by the river, Kevin checked his watch:
"Holy sh**t, it's already half past twelve, we might not have enough time to climb the hills and get back before it gets dark!"
I felt my heart sink.
"At least we do ONE." I suggested and Kevin nodded. We would go up An Sgarsoch first, reversing WH route. Time permitted, we might climb the second Munro, too.
As we began walking up to Geldie lodge, I looked at the two Munros once again. They were just below cloud level and didn't look inviting at all. At this moment, the inevitable moment of doubt came...
"Why do I bother to do it at all? I couldn't care less about these two BHLs. Whether I climb them or not, what difference does it make? I'll feel just as miserable having done them, as I would feel if I didn't. So WHY THE HELL AM I DOING THIS???
I was close to tears, my misery growing at fast pace, I just wanted to go home and put an end to this horrible, knee-bruising and ass-bumping experience...
The stalkers path and descending cloud:
We passed the ruined Geldie Lodge and started up an excellent stalkers path traversing below An Sgarsoch. Kevin was walking quickly, checking his watch all the time and I struggled too keep up with him. At some point he passed me half empty pack of HobNobs and grinned his teeth:
"I feel quite energetic, I must say, full of confidence, we shall be able to do it if we climb fast. Finish off the cookies, honey, you will need a sugar boost now! By the way, how are you doing?"
All I wanted to do was to throw the HobNobs at him and shout out that I felt MISERABLE AS HELL!!!!! but... I only heard myself say:
"All right, fine, just keep going."
Bryan Adams would say:
"Yeah I would fight for you
I'd lie for you
Walk the wire for you (a mountain in this case)
Yeah I'd die for you..."
Up An Sgarsoch:
We left the stalkers path about 2km after Geldie Lodge and aimed due south, circling around Scarsoch Bheag. At some point we came across another path, a bit wet in places. It disappeared soon, after crossing a small stream. We pushed on to the summit of the Munro and surprisingly, my misery started to fade out slowly. I was still miles away from my usual hill-mad state, but my composure was coming back.
Looking down to Sgarsoch Bheag:
Back to our cycling route, with showers developing around:
Still looking for my lost mojo near the summit of An Sgarsoch:
We kept pushing at unusually fast pace (unusual for us, most times we linger around too much) and eventually we emerged on the summit plateau. It was such a relief for me, I run to the summit cairn shouting "Oh, cairn, cairn, cairn, my phhhhecioussss!", I almost kissed it
Naaw, that's better, I think I found my lost mojo! Munro no. 191 (22 for Lucy):
Kevin checked his watch again - it took us less than 2 hours to march up An Sgarsoch from the crossing of Geldie Burn. For me, that was like sprinting!
We were out of the cloud at the moment, but surrounded by very grey, depressing, rolling-rolling landscape. A few snaps from the summit:
Another shower passing by:
It was windy and cold on the summit, but the c-shaped shelter offered good protection from the gusts, so we sat down to our lunch, discussung our options. We could just retrace our steps back to the bikes and arrive back to the car park with loads of time to spare. Or, we could go for the other Munro. We calculated, we should just about have enough daylight left. Not that we never walked back in darkness. It happened occasionally, especially on shorter days (once we descended Alligin in the middle of the night, after watching sunset on Tom na Gruagaich), but cycling in the dark - well, that would be something new, especially on this buuuumpy track!
We took the risk. Maybe because the though of returning here for the second mountain, repeating the teeth-chattering experience seemed even less appealing
The descent to the col was easy most of the time, an obvious path higher up, a few wet areas and peat hags lower down. We stopped at some point to wear waterproofs as it started raining quite heavily. The rain lasted maybe 15 minutes and when it cleared, we were on the steep, grassy slopes of Carn an Fhidhleir, marching up at a crazy pace again...
Looking back at the descent from An Sgarsoch, peat hags and all...
Near the top we met two ladies with full rucksacks, they have bagged the two Munros and were now descending towards Beinn Bhreac, looking for a good place to camp. They were a but surprised to see us with daypacks on Carn an Fhidhleir so late, until I explained we had bikes down by Geldie Lodge.
The cloud descended on the summit of Carn an Fhidhleir and as we walked along the wide ridge towards the cairn, I was suddenly... myself again. Happy as a little kid who has just got a bar of chcoclate. My mojo was back. I couldn't believe, only a few hours later I was ready to just turn back and abandon the climb.
Happy Panther back where she should be!
The summit of Carn an Fhidhleir is not much different from its higher neighbour. The cairn is a bit smaller and, of course, with clag hanging just above our heads, views were limited to say the least.
Not much to see, really:
Gaick pass, I think:
The Cairngorms, especially the higher peaks, never cleared:
We didn't spend much time on the summit. Views were insignificant and the wind got stronger again.
We left the summit of Carn an Fhidhleir at half past four and began the long trudge back to Geldie lodge. First, we descended north, then north-east along the grassy slopes (path to start with, wet vegetation lower down) to the wide glen of Allt a'Chaorainn. Here, we spent some time finding our way across bog and peat hags, but once we crossed the stream and found the upper end of the stalkers path, we picked up pace. I let Kevin lead the way - he was the one who felt "energetic" after all
At some point he turned to me and said:
"We must be mad doing this!"
"Sure we are" I answered "I'm already way past the point of no return to sanity!"
It was 6:20 when we returned to our bikes. It started raining again and we were forced to cycle half way back in waterproofs, but luckily, it was downhill now (though still very rough to my taste). I managed to fall once more, a few more bruises added to the tally. When the rain passed, we stopped to dump the dripping coats and overtrousers. The final kilometers back on the better part of the track were now cycled in much better mood.
.........
I don't know if I'll ever return to these two. Maybe, if we do a second round (probably never then). But even though I'm not going to miss An Sgarsoch and Carn an Fhidhleir and I still couldn't care less about them two BHLs, they will always be remembered as the Munros that almost brought me to tears.