Sunday 16.06.2013

We made it hard on ourselves in some respects on our traverse of the mountains from Braemar to Aviemore.
The logistics are tricky as you start on one side of them and finish on the other so without much rushing about with various cars it`s a case of On The Buses.
Not a problem in itself but they only take you so far. So how to get to the starting point of the serious walking:six miles on tarmac or a taxi?
We walked......always a bit of a trudge along a road but hey...the sun shone, mostly, it was shirtsleeves order and very pleasant at Linn of Dee where we paused to re-group....and bandage the feet in preparation......

Any excuse for a stop,the next at Derry Lodge, time for a brew and more preventative bandaging.....

before setting off into the serious stuff where in such genuinely awe-inspiring surroundings words become redundant which fortunately allows for the necessary concentration on breathing and moving.

Another stream, another brew:

by now we`ve been on the go for about 8 hours and are lulled into a false sense of dryness, watching the clouds swirl across the tops and pass us by.





Can`t last

but somehow it doesn`t matter, that`s what waterproofs are for. The scenery becomes more dramatic

and if the bivvy turned out to be a bit cold and wet it was at least in a pretty spot and meant that in a bid to avoid hypothermia we were up and away early on Saturday morning

glad to feel the blood circulating again and soon even able to talk........
No more rain,down through the stunning Rothiemurchus Estate

able to look back at where we`d been

and even soak those feet - bliss.

A final trudge on several miles of road and we made Aviemore roughly 24 hours after we left Braemar: three days later legs and feet are recovered, brain`s full of stunning images and heart`s still soaring.

But next time we might take taxis on that tarmac.............

Wednesday 12.06.2013

An evening trot in the bosky woods before a more muscular expotition in The Mountains later this week.

Busy layered sky suggesting any kind of weather you fancy really, one minute grey and damp, the next warm and sunny -

ideal `growy` weather.....

practically turning the woods into jungle in places........

Friday 07.06.2013

A perfect June evening, still warm at quarter to six but with shadows starting to lengthen.


A few warm days and everything`s blossoming and lush and the grass is suddenly so long that the dogs disappear into it.


Rumours of summer then.........

Friday 31.05.2013

Temperature cranked up a bit but only because we went in the middle of the day: warm enough apparently to necessitate a stop at every rusty old bath for a drink



but altogether less interesting than dawn or dusk - less birdsong, `flatter` light, fewer animals scurrying about. Still, better than not going at all. And at least it was Shirt Sleeve Order.........

Wednesday 29.05.2013

Early (though not crack of dawn which is about half four at the moment) and up the hill on a bright and breezy day: beasts are out in the fields, lambs growing fat, grass suddenly ankle deep and a cacophany of bird song.....must be late Spring - oh, hang on, we`re only 3 weeks away from the longest day. Shouldn`t it be just a tad warmer?

No should about it of course, it is what it is.
Zen and the art of weather-forecasting.

Saturday 25.05.2013

A heart-healing, spirit-salving three hours or so this afternoon, around and on Bennachie.

A path-less-walked offered new angles on a familiar landmark in one direction



and fine views in the other.



And it was hot, really hot, hot enough to bring out the coconut scent of the gorse flowers and make shade actually welcome!


More stunning beech trees (yes, we have them up here too!)


before starting the climb up through the forest


towards the welcome fresher air above the treeline. The kind of view to put a few things into perspective really.


Hey ho:balm for the brain,sustenance for the soul - and it really is time to get back to work........

Thursday 23.05.2013

Last walk for now in the gentle woodlands of the Cotswolds before heading back to the wilder spaces of the north.





Last pub supper too, in the kind of pub they just don`t do in my neck of the north and a walk back up through the village under a "a jolly full moon.**

Time to go home.......

** A Soliloquy Of The Full Moon, She Being In A Mad Passion
by Samuel Taylor Coleridge