CNAP CHAOCHAN AITINN, Morar, Scotland (Section 8B)
Sunday 10th June 2018

Sunday 10th June 2018. A long hike in the foothills of the North-Eastern Monadh Ruadh (Cairngorms), from near Tomintoul, to the summit of Cnap Chaochan Aitinn 715m/159m, and return.

20.5km, with 620m of ascent. 5hrs 30mins.

I got to bed late after the RHSoc Dinner, so an early start was not appealing. However, I was looking for a longer walk than yesterday to blow away the cobwebs. I also was keen to explore the north-east part of the massif, which is less-frequented. I drove to the small quiet town of Tomintoul (notable for its whisky distillery), parking to the south in a car park at the mouth of Glen Avon.

The River Avon (pronounced ‘A’an’) (see at https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/River_Avon,_Strathspey), at 30km, is the longest river that has its source in the Cairngorms, before it joins its waters with the River Spey. The river has its beginning at Loch Avon, a lake in the deep gash in the plateau which lies south below Cairn Gorm mountain. From there it heads generally north-east for 15km before swinging north at the Linn of Avon to drain into the River Spey, after a further 15km.

A wide track headed south from the car park. After a few hundred metres I diverted off to Queen’s View. Queen Victoria visited this spot on one of her many forays into the Cairngorms in the 1860s, recording her pleasure at the view in her journal. I continued south, watching oystercatchers feeding in a field by the river. After a kilometre the grit track became tarmac, making for even faster progress up the glen. I reached a lodge at Birchfield, where the way ahead appeared to be barred by some impressive iron gates. However, this is a walker-friendly estate. A side gate gave access to the track beyond.

A little futher south I reached a junction. The main route continued up the glen, while a metal bridge over the river headed up to a farm at Wester Gaulrig. A herd of Highland cattle blocked the way, but I edged past them without stirring them. Despite their fearsome horns, this breed is generally docile. It is wise to give them a wide berth, however, as the horns could still do serious injury, even if that was not the animal’s intention. Passing the farm, I continued on the trail west through pasture and entered some attractive birch woods beside the Allt Bheithach stream. The track ran down to a ford. Until now the weather had been broken sunshine and cloud, but at this crossing point it deteriorated. Grey cloud moved in from the west, cloaking the High Cairngorms and bringing a little rain for the rest of my ascent. The moor was alive with the lonely cries of curlew and lapwing, and red grouse were abundant.

The track wound its way south for several kilometres up near a minor top called Geal Charn, before heading downwards to the east. I continued south on another track, which brought me onto the west shoulder of Cnap Chaochan Aitinn (Gaelic: ‘the Lump of the Juniper Stream’). The description is apposite, as the hill is merely the highest swelling on the rolling moors north of the Cairngorms main plateau. A path led east up to the summit, a cluttered area with an aerial and metal shelter sunk into the bedrock below the thin peat surface. My gaze was directed south, where thick waves of grey cloud were rolling over Ben Avon. After a bite to eat I headed back on my outward route.

I made swift progress back to the ford and down to the River Avon. By that time the clouds had parted and some sunshine returned. A long trudge down the track through Glen Avon brought me back to my car.