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I'd tried doing this walk in reverse on New Year's Eve (2016), but the winds were 50-60 mph and the gusts were blowing me off my feet, so I'd had to abort. This time, I was on my way back south from a few glorious days in Sutherland, and decided to give it another go, but start with Sgor Gaoith this time.
Arriving at Glen Feshie at about noon, after an early start down from Tongue, I togged up ready for rain, but not too much chill to begin with, through the forest. Darn right - as I charged up the woodland path, through that richness of pines and juniper, I was soon down to vest-top. Ahead was Geal Charn, looking lush and heathery under a blue-'n'-cloud sky, its grey dusting looking more like scree than the boulder slopes I knew it to be.
I walked on at each fork, taking the standard Sgor Gaoith path, the views back down to the valley sunlit, calm and delightful.
There was a wind though. On the path I met a fella and lady with about eight dogs. One, a black Irish setter (apparently), was bounding down the hillside, ears flapping, happy as you like. I watched, waiting for it to clock that it had to run back up again, which it duly did, with that slightly stumped "Oh" look about it. As the setter trotted back up, the man said it was gusty on the ridge, and I knew out of the shelter of Carn Ban Beag, I could expect a chilly breeze.
A little further on, past some grouse eggshell, crowberry snack and poo...
... I stopped on a rock for my lunch. My stomach had been rumbling, and I'd been ignoring it, but this was perfect. Too breezy for midges, while not yet in the full exposure of the wind coming from the SW. The base layer went on, and the Ventura jacket, and on they stayed for the rest of the day.
As I walked on, individual clouds came in and rolled about, then disappeared again.
I was finding more juniper - always a pleasure to see -
and pounding on up to the plateau cairn.
At the saddle between Carn Ban Mor and Sgor Gaoith, I turned right to look at the view from the former.
[etc!] and clocked how the cloud was just constantly changing from white to black above me. At some point, I was bound to get caught in the clag. But then it would lift as quickly as it would descend.
On up to Sgor Gaoith, and great views of lonely Loch Eanaich with Braeriach opposite, and down the glen to Creag Dubh and Rothiemurchus..
To go back over Geal Charn was pretty much a straight line from here, but I wanted to nip up to Sgoran Dubh Mor. Its top, so close to Sgor Gaoith, is so completely different, like petrified molten larva. That was a surprise!
There was also a massive cairn on top, that yelled "CAIRN" in my head.
The view down the glean's lovely from here, and it was good that I enjoyed it, because minutes later I was being pelted by hail, blowing straight at me from the way I wanted to go.
I'd walked back down to the bealach between Sgoran Dubh Mor and Sgurr Gaoith, when the clouds suddenly raged with rain and hail, descended and enveloped me in clag, and gave me no choice but to pass the time with my back to the hail, singing to myself til it calmed down.
When it did, I set off on a bearing, aiming off on the burn, and the cloud soon lifted. It clung to the ridges, lining them with silver before it lifted completely - magical
On my way up to Meall Buidhe were pixie cups...
... and up on 928, the point after Meall Buidhe, was a ptarmigan, watching me.
From here, the ground was boulders, as I remembered from Geal Charn. One final dip down and back up to this old friend and I was soon at its summit shelter cairn.
It felt such a novelty to be walking towards it normally, not lurching towards it like a drunkard, eyeing it sideways out of a wind-battered hood as I had on my crazy New Year's Eve visit.
A novelty too to get a view from the lower cairn NW, looking down to Loch an Eilein - that was shrouded in cloud in December.
Just the last, slow, bouldery, heathery and very steep descent down the Geal Charn flank to the path, which took an age to get any closer. To my right, along the path, I spotted a group who had been on the Sgor Gaoith summit before me. They must have dropped down via Allt a Mharcaidh, to join a path there and then cut left up the Allt nan Cuileach to the col between Geal Charn and Mhigeachaidh. They stopped to adjust rain-gear, so were behind me quite a way when I got to the path.
I stepped up my pace, back through midges, and on the way saw a stag sauntering down on the path. [Should say "bull", not "stag", since as Gaffr has pointed out to me, he's reindeer not red. Silly me.
]
He melted into the contours below me eventually, and soon I was alone again, ending this delightful week with beautiful late afternoon sunlight casting shadows on the lower hills.
