After more than a month without a sunny day, the weather app finally showed a forecast of uninterrupted sunshine. Seizing the opportunity, I abandoned my desk and, accompanied by a friend and a dog, headed for the hills. Our destination was Sgòr Gaoith, the high point of the ridge above the River Feshie on the western edge of the Cairngorms.
The walk began in a Scots Pine forest, where dappled light filtered through the trees and the soft sound of Allt Ruadh, the Red Burn, accompanied us. As we gained height, the trees thinned, but new saplings were appearing across the once bare landscape, a sign of life returning. Our rucksacks were heavy with crampons and ice axes, though the air was fresh and sparkling as the sun poured down the brown slopes.
We paused for coffee and an apple turnover at a wayside boulder, watching the old dog romp like a puppy through a strong current. No need for the ironmongery as we crunched across sugary snow patches to reach the saddle on the ridge. Here, the snow had melted and partially refrozen, forming a mosaic of ice and water in the bleached moss.
The white ice echoed the snow on higher hills beyond the ravine, and the pools reflected the vivid blue of the sky, which arced above us like a billowing tent in the strong wind. Sgòr Gaoith means 'Peak of the Wind' in Gaelic, and a cold gust seized the hat tucked under my arm, lodging it in a snow cornice too far out for safe recovery. The views from the summit were some of the finest in the Cairngorms, sweeping from the Great Moss in the south, across Glen Einich with its dark loch and the bulk of Braeriach, north to the forests of Rothiemurchus and Glenmore. We breathed it in and headed back down, washed in sunshine and tossed by wind, brimming with light.
