Adventure Week 1:
Caingorms and Loch Rannoch

In true winter style, my January holiday takes Sophie and I to one of the snowiest parts of the UK: Cairngorms National Park. There'd be no shortage of snow-capped mountains, lochs, and even reindeer!

Efficient Short Getaways

I have a lot of places I'd like to visit this year. In order to do so, it helps to ration my annual vacation days so that I have more available for larger trips. Late last year I settled on a winning method for travelling on a weekend without the need for any time off:

1. Outward travel Friday night after work, arriving late.
2. Full Saturday of activities.
3. Half Sunday of activities, until around mid-afternoon.
4. Return travel Sunday afternoon/evening, arriving late.

While this doesn't leave much time for rest, especially on active adventures, it does allow for as much "adventure" as possible. Of course, this strategy only works if late or self-check-in can be negotiated, and if willing to drive long distances in the dark - particularly in the winter.

This trip would prove another successful use of this method.

Lodging in the Woods

After five hours driving from our home in north-east England to the middle of Scotland, we arrived at our accommodation around 22:00. An unassuming dirt trail between pine forest led us up to our host's house and its adjacent guesthouse: Woodland Getaway.

Surrounded by the sound of trees rustling in the wind, we explored. A modest kitchen with small table led through to a spacious bedroom containing a double bed lined with electric blankets. An ample bathroom with shower completed the ensemble. Hand-written notes provided us with recommendations for activities and restaurants nearby, although we had come prepared.

Overall, this proved an enjoyable first couple of nights away of the new year. We never saw the surrounding woods under more than dim morning light before leaving, due to our busy itinerary and short winter days at this high latitude.

Into the Shadow of Mountains

Rising early, we set upon our first of many lochs this trip - Loch Morlich. A short drive from Boat of Garten leads back to Aviemore, then east with the snow sport enthusiasts towards the Cairngorm mountains themselves. Along this winding, gently rising road, evergreen forest and limited views of what lies beyond. Then suddenly, water.

Our first view of the loch was from a car park along its edge, watching the ducks in the shallows as the opposite forest and snow-capped mountains beyond loomed above. Further along, a longer lived stop near Glenmore gave easy access to the sandy beach on Morlich's eastern edge. Here the trees coexist with the sands, then suddenly stop as if to relinquish the land to the beach, its walkers, and those with the courage to brave icy January waters.

Beyond the temperature, literal ice churned in the wind against the shore, slushing into a white strip. Colder temperatures in recent weeks will have seen parts of the loch covered in ice; these last remnants are no match for the strong winds this weekend, though 3°C highs today help to keep the ice shards around a while longer.

While a walk beyond the beach was not had, this was enough to get a real sense of the Cairngorms - occupying one side of the horizon for an entire day, the crown of the Grampian Mountains were a sight to behold, even with low snow coverage.

A Close Encounter... With Reindeer!

Saturday's main attraction was the Cairngorm Reindeer Herd. Some 150 reindeer roam the mountains, occasionally in large fence enclosed lands, and can be visited in one such area by appointment and tour by the staff. Reintroduced to Scotland in 1952 around 800 years after their last sighting, the species lives on in a managed state, carefully counted and bred to ensure their wellbeing.

A visit starts at the education centre next to Loch Morlich. Here the building is part gift shop, part check-in for the tour. With a parking permit to display in the car and admission stickers in hand, the next stop is the paddock out back where a rotation of reindeer can be seen up close without needing to head to the foothills.

I've not seen reindeer before, not even in a temporary city Christmas market pen. If I had, they'd be reindeer from this herd, naturally. Their large noses and cheeky nature make them a delight to watch, even when they're just trying to eat and mind their own business. After a few minutes of multiple eyes on them, the small reindeer group would relocate for a few moments of privacy before the children would come running after them, pointing through the fences at Rudolph.

Now acquainted with the animal, it was time to visit their home. Driving further towards the mountains and ascending steeper, a small car park was to be today's destination. The Reindeer Herd is strict about outdoor attire at all times of year; January called for waterproof boots, over-trousers, layers, hats and gloves, with strict warnings on the website that those not adequately prepared would be turned away. Fortunately, today, none were.

Two staff and a volunteer rounded the tour group up before explaining the plan - a short walk down and back up a valley stood between us and the herd, though the largest challenge would be for all thirty of us to safely cross the road's blind bend immediately next to us.

The journey was steady, allowing everyone (including children) to traverse the dirt and rocky trail carefully. At the bottom of the valley, a bridge with views across the purple birch and peak beyond.

Rising sharply on the other side, we were met with a wire fence - the 80-kilometre fence demarcating this enclosure, currently containing mothers and calves from the latest birthing season. Further safety instructions before entering - don't touch, watch the antlers, reindeer don't have top teeth so you can't be bitten, move together and we'll soon be part of the pack!

Howling winds above the tree line meant we would set up shop down the hill. The reindeer, anticipating this daily routine, were nearby and ready to be fed - a necessary bribe for compliance. As we descended the hill as a group, they followed, and not just from a distance - they got right in amongst us without hesitation. Once stopped at the bottom of the hill, snapping a headshot of a reindeer proved surprisingly simple.

Food was laid out which provided the staff an opportunity to count the herd. We were advised to stay still so as not to get caught in the polite stampede for a free meal. A line of reindeer set before a rolling backdrop was truly magical.

There was one final step - hand feeding. This was offered to anyone who wanted "gentle kisses" as it was described, from cupped hands filled with rich feed. Adults (myself included) and children alike lined up for a handful, quickly set upon by the nearest eager reindeer not content with one free meal. Suddenly a large nose was in my hands, then the next moment the feed was gone. Shuffling the remains in my hand allowed me a second chance. I was instantly a kid again!

We were allowed to linger as long as we liked while the staff did their thing. One by one couples and families departed while I observed the nearby town of Aviemore and the hills beyond through my fieldscope mounted on a tripod, all lugged up on the off chance of a view whilst here. It paid off. Then, it was time to go home.

Without a doubt this was the highlight of the trip, and one I won't soon forget. Later this year I'll be looking for an excuse to return to these amusing creatures.

Ascension

It would be a waste to come this close to the Cairngorms proper and not follow the road to its end. From Glenmore the only real destination is Cairngorm Mountain, effectively a ski resort. Whilst we aren't so inclined, a view from the car park would at least suffice.

The drive up quickly took us above the tree line and into some of the strongest winds I've experienced away from the coast. The view was worth the effort, even half-way up the road; Loch Morlich set amongst the forest, with the first blue sky of the day illuminating distant hills.

Once at the car park, the resort seemed almost impenetrable. This was certainly not our world. Skis, snowboards, ice picks, lengths of rope, heavy waterproof backpacks. It is easy to be impressed by others' skills. Here my hill-walking experience became irrelevant through the snow and mountain cloud layer.

Several weeks ago, the mountains were covered with snow as the UK was plunged into sub-zero temperatures brought by Siberian wind. Now most of that snow cover has melted and snow sport lovers must wait for the next inundation. The slopes we could see were barely white. Maybe next month in the height of the season.

Evening in the Woods

Now satiated for one day by the mountains, the forest became the target of our wanderlust. Abernethy Forest near our lodging looked inviting enough from behind a computer screen around a week ago, so off we went.

A near three-hour walk toured us through the woods and past two lochs: Loch Mallachie, then to larger Loch Garten, but it would be over an hour before either would reveal themselves.

The woods here are ancient sanctuaries for a large proportion of the UK's endangered species. Most famously, red squirrels reside here, and this is the best place in the country to spot them. They have been pushed to the brink by aggressive non-native grey squirrels, which are common enough to appear weekly on my neighbour's fences, visible from my office window. Alas, the red squirrels proved elusive today, but it was reassuring knowing they could thrive here.

Eventually Loch Mallachie came into view, initially as a sliver of blue between the trees. Immediately an unforgettable vista opened before us - a small eilean on the far side of the loch, bathed in perpetual winter golden hour light, with the woods and snowy mountains beyond. Here the water is icy still, and we infrequently passed other afternoon walkers. It was as if we had the place to ourselves. Further round, the same island with the sun behind it, the last of the winter sun soon departing.

Loch Garten itself provided much of the same allure, just on a grander scale. By the time we arrived the muted tones of the setting sun were truly upon us.

A more perfect end to this day could not be dreamed of. Fresh air, the creaking of trees, still lochs, dramatic orange lighting, and the company of my wonderful girlfriend.

Several months without much activity meant the return journey grew unwelcome as the sun set, the light waned, and our feet called it quits. But we concluded that the trip had been unmissable despite minor discomfort.

The Snow Town

Having worked up an appetite, it was time for scran. Aviemore was the obvious choice - the largest town close to the Cairngorms and the closest place you'll find in the UK to a French or Swiss ski village.

Down its main street you'll find all manner of hotels, gift shops, and outdoor sports equipment shops. A small train station connects Aviemore to Inverness to the north and Perth to the south. You'll find a Tesco, Costa, and a few other suburban trappings which elevates the town above many other highland settlements, but there is a distinctly small feel.

Our restaurant shortlist was topped by Cheese & Tomatin, a pizzeria curiously placed on the first floor above a mountain sports shop. We entered the shop then ascended the stairs before us to await seating. While there was a wait, we were sent off with a buzzer, allowing us to peruse the store while we waited - only possible until the store closes at 17:30, so we were fortunate to be hungry early. After buying gloves and midge spray, the buzzer's drone invited us back upstairs.

Puffy-crust, blemished pizza arrived to watering mouths. My choice of nduja, rocket, and parmesan shavings was a spicy but delicious affair with no chance of leftovers. Sophie's favourites were catered for: feta and olives.

I don't have a concrete pizza ranking, only a shortlist of worthwhile favourites. This now joins that list. If I have cause for lunch or dinner in Aviemore again, I won't think twice of returning!

Pit Stop and Refuel

Cut to Sunday morning. Another early start saw us leave our woodland lodging and depart towards Aviemore on our eventual way back home. Along the A9 there would be much to see - a day of digressions lined up to intentionally delay our return home, well after sunset.

First, a short drive down the road to Loch Vaa. This small loch is hidden out of sight from the main road by a small hill, in front of which is a graveyard and car park. At 08:45 we are the only ones here. Slightly drizzly weather, a surprising first for a forecast wet trip, kept us on our toes as we explored the rocky shoreline and admired another icy mirror with views across the mountains. Not wanting to venture too far and spend precious daylight, we opted for a view of the solitary boathouse before an about turn.

The car was fuelled in Aviemore, supplies were bought, and we were off heading south on the A9, an important trunk road connecting Edinburgh and Inverness. Twenty minutes later we arrived at Dalwhinnie, a footnote along the road made famous by its distillery and hotel. A quick visit to my first loch, Loch Ericht was in order. The walk along the concrete levee was enough to chill us through and work up an appetite - perfect conditions for a warm breakfast.

Enter The Apiary @ Dalwhinnie, a small café tucked just away from the main street. As we pulled in, one of the staff, chatting to a local dog walker, greeted us in the gravel car park. Inside the atmosphere was cosy, especially around the log fire. Coffee, hot chocolate, and breakfast was ordered. I opted for the full spread which featured Scottish square sausage, while Sophie opted for bacon and egg in a bun. I couldn't have asked for more.

Heading West

Now sated with food, we continued south until around Killiecrankie where we left the pristine A-road for lesser travelled country roads. Our journey pointed us west, along an increasingly empty valley that featured Loch Tummel, Loch Rannoch, and then eventually the edge of Rannoch Moor. This would be a typical adventure drive of mine - a few researched destinations with ample opportunity and mandate to stop wherever in service to great views and quiet moments.

First up was Queen's View. After ascending the winding road alongside Loch Tummel, the cliffside crest gives home to a [currently closed] visitor centre, presenting an unforgettable view west. Here was our first view of Schiehallion, pointed and assuredly snow topped. It would follow us along the valley all the way to Rannoch Moor, its character changing with the changing angle.

Beyond this vista, our journey took us along challenging roads, including through a flood, past small insular settlements and caravan sites. Lochside views of flanking mountains persisted, ushering us further along, excited for what might come.

Between the lochs, Dunalasdair Estate provided an opportunity to abandon the car in a muddy side track, rouse farmer's dogs by our mere presence, and escape down the hill to the remains of a once proud manor house. The site is now convincingly ruined, fenced off and hazardous, though beautiful even in this state, and in part because of it. Views of the delaminating interior walls and crooked weathervanes speaks volumes of the turbulent history of this glen, the clans that once inhabited it, and its modern role in rural Scottish life.

Few Destinations Remain

Beyond Kinloch Rannoch, settlements become increasingly sparse, and so too do road junctions, as there are fewer places to reach without turning around. Civilisation quickly falls off along this part of the glen, though the views are equally stunning. Here a true sense of rural isolation is reached, with little except the road and occasional homesteads to suggest otherwise. A quick trip down onto Loch Rannoch's rocky shore provided dramatic views of Schiehallion reminiscent of Japan's Mount Fuji.

As the loch comes to an end, torrential rainfall cascades from the west along River Gaur, satisfying the many dams and hydroelectric power stations along this part of the highlands - at least five we counted. Scotland is in an advantageous position to capitalise on hydro and wind power due to its location and geologic happenstance.

Before long the road submitted to a single track with sporadic designated passing places, a high mark of quality for my adventures; some of the best views can only be found off the beaten path. Here, Rannoch Moor became apparent. A flat waterlogged section of the central highlands, flanked by some of the most iconic scenery the highlands have to offer, particularly Glen Coe. Ten miles west, tourists travel down the fabled valley in the direction of Fort William, but here we were alone.

End of the Road

Eventually the road gives up altogether at Rannoch Station. A few houses and a seasonal lodge/restaurant stand with a perplexingly desolate train station on the arterial line between Glasgow and Fort William.

Its purpose isn't immediately clear, especially at this time of year. But in this area, good hiking can be found. Along Loch Laidon to the south-west the land is flat and easy-going, with panoramic views across the mountains. To the north-east, the bottom edge of Loch Ericht, which we had seen from its opposite end that morning. Truly, it is possible to catch a train from Scotland's most populous city to hiking nirvana in less than three hours.

Sophie and I marvelled in the trappings of this ScotRail station without company. Timetables, signposts, an electronic display for the Caledonian Sleeper with no trains listed today. A platform waiting room and café, packed away for the low season. Working toilets. We were not surprised by the modest car park, signpost to notable landmarks and cities, or declaration that there is no taxi rank, but I was surprised to find tokens still in use here for signalling.

The sun poking through distant clouds illuminated distant mountains, recognisable as Glen Coe. Next month I will be back there, seeing Rannoch Moor from its opposite end in a different light. Perhaps I might have the time and conditions to cross the moor back to here in order to thread both places together in my spatial awareness.

One Final View

With light beginning to fade and over a one-hour drive back to a main road, it was time to get going. But first, a small castle tower built upon a former crannog: Eilean nam Faoileag. In the middle of Loch Rannoch this structure sits on its lonesome, with only the water and distant shores for company. In the summer it is possible to reach it by canoe, but there is not much there to see that cannot be glimpsed from the shore.

This was the perfect test for new equipment. My fieldscope was to be put to good use atop my new 3 Legged Thing "Legends Mike" tripod. Unfolded and pushed into the sands, small but tactile adjustment screws and a cinema-ready arm allowed me to zero in on the stonework with ease and share the view with Sophie. Finally having kit compatible with Arca-Swiss mounting plates made attaching the fieldscope simple and sturdy - a major design flaw with my fifteen-year-old model.

This last sight capped off an incredible day of desolate adventure. With equipment packed and the car ready for the long haul back to England, back we went, arriving home at 20:30.

Conclusion

Visiting the Cairngorms and more of the highlands valleys was a treat, enhanced by wintry January conditions. Travel often feels like a warm hobby, but the brave and eager can find much value in these brown-grey days. Its greatest strengths are the drama of snow-capped mountains, and the exceptionally quiet locations - certainly a far cry from summer holiday crowds.