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| The summit of Beinn Dearg |
Wednesday, 28 October 2009
Ascent: 990 metres
Distance: 25 kilometres
Time: 6 hours 10 minutes
Beinn Dearg 1008m 2hrs 55mins
Today was the last chance to spend some time walking with Gregor before he sets off on a circumnavigation of the world in 150 days. The weather forecasts were ominous so we headed to Blair Atholl as the most likely location for rain and wind-free mountains. We were rewarded with a glorious morning as we trekked through golden beech woods towards Glen Banvie. We sighted several red squirrels before ascending into the clouds, the hills beckoned through the span of an intense rainbow. Apart from two bluff Yorkshireman, riding spanking new mountain bikes, the day was people-free.
As we approached the summit of Beinn Dearg, which was lost in the low cloud, we meandered into a flock of Ptarmigan. It was a delight to hear their calls - a cross between a gargle and scraping the teeth of a comb. On the descent shafts of afternoon sunlight raised our spirits and the bellowing of stags serenaded the hillside.
The tussock grasses stood out like burning embers from the wet green mosses and heathers. I was castigated for loitering to take photographs of such humble plant life but the results are stunning. It was a long walk of 26 kilometres and we were constantly jumping the swollen burns during our descent of the hill track on the way back to Glen Tilt. Unusually, I managed to keep my feet dry despite wearing a pair of trainers.
Across Glen Tilt Beinn a' Ghlo stood aloft from the brown-tinged lower slopes whilst Ben Vrackie was a mere hump on the wavy blue horizon of hills. When we arrived back at the Old Blair car park it was almost dusk and all other walkers had departed. We had extracted every tone and light condition from this autumn day. It prompted me to post my first blog.
Ascent: 990 metres
Distance: 25 kilometres
Time: 6 hours 10 minutes
Beinn Dearg 1008m 2hrs 55mins
Today was the last chance to spend some time walking with Gregor before he sets off on a circumnavigation of the world in 150 days. The weather forecasts were ominous so we headed to Blair Atholl as the most likely location for rain and wind-free mountains. We were rewarded with a glorious morning as we trekked through golden beech woods towards Glen Banvie. We sighted several red squirrels before ascending into the clouds, the hills beckoned through the span of an intense rainbow. Apart from two bluff Yorkshireman, riding spanking new mountain bikes, the day was people-free.
As we approached the summit of Beinn Dearg, which was lost in the low cloud, we meandered into a flock of Ptarmigan. It was a delight to hear their calls - a cross between a gargle and scraping the teeth of a comb. On the descent shafts of afternoon sunlight raised our spirits and the bellowing of stags serenaded the hillside.
The tussock grasses stood out like burning embers from the wet green mosses and heathers. I was castigated for loitering to take photographs of such humble plant life but the results are stunning. It was a long walk of 26 kilometres and we were constantly jumping the swollen burns during our descent of the hill track on the way back to Glen Tilt. Unusually, I managed to keep my feet dry despite wearing a pair of trainers.
Across Glen Tilt Beinn a' Ghlo stood aloft from the brown-tinged lower slopes whilst Ben Vrackie was a mere hump on the wavy blue horizon of hills. When we arrived back at the Old Blair car park it was almost dusk and all other walkers had departed. We had extracted every tone and light condition from this autumn day. It prompted me to post my first blog.
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| Glen Banvie |
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| Autumn Gold |
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| Tussock Grasses |
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| Looking south to Ben Vrackie |
You could teach John Keats a thing or two x
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