It’s funny how everyone relates to mountains differently. For many, the Cairngorms are not special hills; for many of my friends, in fact, they are the opposite. Round grassy lumps: uninteresting, boring, and frankly a disappointment compared to the craggy hills of Glencoe or the mighty Torridon peaks. I, of course, see things differently. From the first time I set foot on the plateau when I was 15, I fell in love.
It’s hard to quantify what makes the Cairngorms feel like a special place to me. Some of my love, no doubt, is sentimental. Time and time again, the Plateau has been a place I can go to find clarity. Despite its brutality, I always feel like I’m amongst an old friend in these hills. Each contour line I walk along holds memories of days, people, friendships, and love. The valleys here doubtlessly remind me of some of the things I have lost, but they remind me so much more of what I still have. The permanence of the plateau, despite changes in my own life, creates a place I can always go back to, measure my progress against, and feel at home in.
The Feith Buhdie, Loch A’nn, Hutchies, and Garbh Corrie. All these places bring me back to some of the happiest days of my life: that first night on the Plateau with my Dad when I was a teenager, topping out of the Needle on Shelterstone, sitting in the Garbh Corrie Refuge on an early morning, hiding from the squalls of snow and rain. The bothy nights, the hitches from Aviemore to the ski-centre, searching for a lost ice axe in the dark. They have become a place where I can go to find peace.
I think the vastness of the Plateaus gives one a freedom few that the ridges of the West rarely grant: the Cairngorms invite the wanderer to wander, to explore each nook and cranie. The walker who leaves the path is rewarded richly with peaceful and deserted valleys, small lochans to take shelter by, and genuine peace and tranquillity. Perhaps this is why, to the Munro Bagger, the Plateau is uninteresting, for if you only walk upon the highways of the munroist, the hills are, indeed, lacking.
Beyond the Plateau, the valleys too, are wild. Looking out upon Rannoch Moor from the Buchallie, it can feel like looking out upon a wasteland – a graveyard of the forest that was. You hear the scream of the A82, see the tour buses pulling into laybys, and feel an awful lot less isolated than one might hope. The lowlands of the Plateau are, for the most part, wild. Re-wilded Glens like Glen Derry and Glen Feshie are symbols of hope for environmentalists, with some of the most promising regeneration of the natural Caledonian pine-forests. To wander through these glens feels like stepping back in time, to what Scotland was like, and to what Scotland should be.
These deep valleys feel wild too – as wild in places as the Plateau above. To me, the mountain extends beyond the tops, and the feel and experience of the valley is just as important, after all, it is the valley you will be confined to in a storm. I always imagine all the wildlife amongst these woodland valleys, think of the birds, the Pine Martins, the Reindeer, all roaming through the same woodland that I wander through. I dream of being amongst other creatures too: the Lynx, the Bear.
To those who see the Plateau as boring, I invite you to reconsider. Wander amongst these wonderful hills, and I have no doubt that they will reward you richly for your efforts.
Oscar Outdoors 