On to Hadrian's Wall

We made it to England in time for dinner.  I still can't get over how small the United Kingdom is.  The distance between the Cairngorms in northern Scotland and Haydon Bridge, England is roughly 230 miles.  The distance between our home in Kentucky and Indianapolis, which is about the half-way point of a trip up north to my folks outside Chicago, is a little less than that.  And we still have a ways to go...

Anyway, here we are taking a walk along Sewingshields milecastle, which is part of Hadrian's Wall.  We were a little frayed at the edges by this point, so a quiet walk along the lonely edge of a former empire was the perfect way to unwind.

Farewell to the Cairngorms

We bid our farewells to kind Mary and her black lab Poppy.  Cairn Eilrig was the place where we felt most at home.  We looked forward to our afternoon teas in the sitting room, where we could look out over the Cairngorms and visit with Mary.  Mary took very good care of us--not only did she feed us hearty food and provide ample afternoon tea fare, she washed clothes for us and shuttled us to the beginning of our hikes.   

While planning the trip and figuring out how to get from Aviemore, Scotland to Haydon Bridge, England, I noticed that we would have to switch trains in Edinburgh or Glasgow to continue our journey down into England.  We decided to squeeze some sightseeing into the layover in Edinburgh before catching the next train south to England.

This is the great thing about the rail system and the compactness of the United Kingdom - you can quite literally wake up in the Cairngorms, eat lunch in Edinburgh, and take a walk along Hadrian's Wall in the evening (which I'll write about later).

Our first good look at Edinburgh ("Ed-en-burrah" is the correct pronunciation, as Mary pointed out to us during one of our afternoon chats) after disembarking at Waverley Station.  Old Town looms in the distance.

More pictures from our four hour jaunt around Old Town Edinburgh are coming up...

Cairngorm Hotel and Highland cuisine

It was easy to imagine that Hector Naismith MacDonald from Monarch of the Glen would walk in at anytime.

We ate dinner a couple of times at Cairngorm Hotel.  How could you resist dining in such surroundings as this?  We don't typically go for stout meat and potatoes fare if there are some ethnic restaurants to choose from, but we had to go back another time.

 When we first walked in, I stopped in my tracks and almost laughed out loud at the amount of plaid competing for attention.  And yet the riot of color and pattern somehow worked. 

Cairngorm Hotel across from the bus station.  We didn't get to eat in the turret nook on the first floor, unfortunately.

It was Hot Highland Buffet Night on our second trip to the Cairngorm Hotel.  Here are the foods we sampled:

• Steak mince
• Haggis (yes, we tried it again!  and still liked it!)
• Cairngorm stovies
• Venison casserole
• Bubblyjock pie (turkey and ham in a pie)
• Clapshot (potatoes and turnips)
• Skirlie (onion and oatmeal stuffing)
• Potatoes Rob Roy (potatoes with black pudding)

Loch an Eilein and the Rothiemurchus Estate

The afternoon of our mind-numbingly cold hike, we rented bikes and explored a small part of the Rothiemurchus Estate.  

As soon as I heard about Loch an Eilein castle, I made sure we picked a trail that promised views of this 13th century castle.  

The castle appeared to be adrift in the loch.  I entertained daydreams of rowing a boat out to the castle, through the entrance conveniently at water level, and exploring a castle yard claimed by nature.  Perhaps it was Avalon and I would have found Arthur asleep.  More likely I would have disturbed some mundane birds.

We got back on our bikes and continued along the trail, passing countless stately trees.  

I should have taken a picture with one of us standing next to a giant tree to give a sense of scale. 

The Rothiemurchus Forest contains one of the largest surviving remanants of the ancient Caledonian forest that once covered Scotland.  Today, less than 1 percent remains.

We had the trail to ourselves.  It was very peaceful.  Riding the bike helped me shake off the lingering bone-deep cold from the failed hike that morning.

As we cycled along the trail, John Muir's quote came to mind: "Come to the woods for here is rest.  There is no repose like that of the green deep woods."

This abandoned building called out to be explored.  

We tried to figure out the purpose of the rooms suggested by the vague outlines in the ground, persistently remaining long after the abandonment.  

Perhaps this was a hinge for a door long since rotted or recycled?

A window or a very low door?  

Something about this block of stone propped across an open space amused me.  It prompts the question "Why?" and reminds me of the child I was, incessantly asking my parents the meaning of this and that, of everything.  I just want to know.

 

This flower was determined to grow in the midst of ruin.  What a brilliant color!  I never much cared for orange until I saw this cheerful flower, a miniature sunburst in a pile of rocks.

Cairn Gorm and Fiacaill Ridge

The other hike we did in the Cairngorms was perfect in every way, except for the fact that we were still recovering from our hikes up Ben Nevis and around the Ring of Steall (we actually did the numbingly cold hike after this one -- I haven't been following a strict chronology while blogging about this trip), and so were a little tired.  It's probably because of the hiker's "bonk"* that I don't have a real narrative for this hike.

We set off from the Cairngorm Ski Park, intending to hike up Cairn Gorm and along Fiacaill Ridge.

The trail was nice and smooth for the first part of the hike. I admired the heather blanketing the ground.

If we had been able to get over the spine of Cairgn Gorm, I think that is the ridge we would have walked along on the last part of the hike.

The clouds remained far above and we were able to enjoy the view of the Rothiemurchus Forest, Glenmore, and Aviemore off in the distance.

I said Scotland is rocky.

Our first good look at Fiacaill Ridge.

Fiacaill Ridge looked like blocks set carefully on top of each other to form teetering columns in danger of sliding away.

This is about as far as we got before we had to turn back.  Snow and ice covered the trail.  We couldn't figure out a way to bypass the obstruction.  The rocks on the left were too steep to clamber over, and the land dropped away too sharply on the other side for us to safely go that way.

 

On the bright side, while making our way back down Cairn Gorm, we met the ptarmigan, of which I have spoken before.

 Last, but not least, we saw plenty of bog cotton along the trail.  What a homey name for such a funny looking plant.  It made me think of fairy brooms.

*The "bonk" is what you can sometimes feel after putting your body through a massive exertion of effort (such as 2 difficult hikes of 10 - 12 hours each within a few days of each other) and not yet eating enough calories to make up for the caloric deficit that results from such an effort.  All of this combined makes for a nagging sense of fatigue and a stomach that annoyingly feels like a dry, echoing well no matter how much food you stuff into it.

Cairn Gorm is rocky

Looking up at J. on the side of Cairn Gorm

Scotland has a lot of rocks.

In which we are defeated by wind and rain on Cairn Gorm and Ben Macdui

Here is a little background on the previous post and the quote from Tolkien's Return of the King, in which Frodo sees the Grey Havens for the first time.

Our plan was to hike out to Ben Macdui, Britain's second highest peak, from Cairn Gorm.  They are among the cloud capped mountains above.

But that plan bit the dust once we entered the clouds and were subjected to fierce winds and rain.  I have never been as cold as I was on the side of Cairn Gorm.  We were prepared for wet conditions, but not for wet conditions, 30 mph winds with occasional wicked gusts greater than that, and a windchill of 26 degrees that came out of nowhere.  One minute, we were hiking along, damp but comfortable; the next minute, the temperature plummeted and the wind came.

We were so cold, we lost all sensation in our hands.  It took me several agonizingly slow minutes to put my gloves on.  I had to consciously tell my fingers when to open and when to close.  It was strange to have no sensation in my hands and stranger still to have to work at communicating with this part of my body.

Also unnerving were the clouds.  They moved to and fro according to the wind's fancy.  One moment our view was obscured,

and the next moment, the cloud blew away and we could see how close we were to edge without realizing it.

The cold befuddled us. This was the most disturbing thing of all.  It's hard to describe.  I only have a vague memory of how heavy my body seemed (I was no longer feeling the cold) and how tiring it was to form a coherent thought.  It seems obvious to us now, warm and cozy inside the house, that we should have turned around and gone back once we realized that our gear was not adequate for the weather conditions, but it took our cold-addled minds a while to come to this conclusion.

When we turned to go back, the clouds lifted, oh so briefly, and revealed the far green country and lochs we would not be able to explore.  Then, as quickly as they dissipated, the wind drew them back, walling off the view behind a dank grey veil. 

The cold and the befuddlement have heightened my memory of that brief moment to the point of a dream.  For the first time, I keenly understood how Frodo felt when he saw the Grey Havens for the first time. 

But at least he got to go on. 

Rain in the Cairngorms

"The grey rain-curtain

turned all to silver glass

and was rolled back

and he beheld white shores and beyond them a far green country

under a swift sunrise."

(J.R.R. Tolkien, Return of the King)

Encountering the ptarmigan in the Cairngorms

We startled this ptarmigan and her chicks while out hiking. There was an explosion of feathers and frantic clucking as the chicks scurried to their hidey-holes and mama ptarmigan boldly remained in full view.

She then proceeded to lure us away from her chicks (we humored her, as we were going in the right direction anyways) by dancing in and out of the nooks and crannies of the boulder field, always just ahead of us.

When J. made the mistake of detouring around a boulder and thus towards her chicks, she came right up to his feet, flapping her wings and squawking a racket.

Several times, we thought she had left, now that we were clearly moving away from her chicks, but, nope, she would pop up from behind a random boulder, like a mole in the whack-a-mole games at Chuck E. Cheese.  It was quite amusing to be treated as bothersome predators.

Later on, a gentleman gave us a ride into Aviemore. He was an avid birdwatcher, out on a bird-watching expedition around Europe. We told him about the ptarmigan and learned that it is actually quite rare to spot one. Not only are they reclusive, but they blend in so well with their environment--as you can see from the picture above.

Over the hills and through the woods to the Cairngorms

Our next stop on the trip was the Cairngorms, on the other side of Scotland in the eastern Highlands.  One would think, looking at a map, that you could just head due east and get there in relatively short time, but no.  We had to take the bus north to Inverness, then catch a train southeast to Aviemore, then hop on a bus to Glenmore, then walk up the hill to where our bed and breakfast Cairn Eilrig is located behind the Reindeer Center. 

But I'm not complaining.

How can you when you have views like this from the bus?

This is a far cry from my experience with bus rides, which has been limited mostly to the stretch between O'Hare airport in Chicago and my hometown of Rockford, Illinois, where there are cornfields as far as the eye can see and random collections of industrial buildings.

We passed lots of homes like this. 

We rode for a long time along Loch Ness. Nessie did not make an appearance. It wasn't really the weather for monsters--the sky was a lively blue and the surface of the loch was dappled with sunlight. No mist or moaning wind.

We arrived in Inverness, where the buildings all seemed to be carved out of the same block of stone.

Various storefronts tried to introduce a dash of color into the mix.

The train station was modern, white, and airy. These little guys were posted on a wall.

We arrived at Aviemore Railway Station, which was decorated with candycane colors. I loved the railway stations of the United Kingdom. While the Victorians sometimes overdo it in the decorating capacity, their railway stations are lovely.

Our final destination, Cairn Eilrig (Hill of the Deer Walk), where we met our gracious host Mary and her black lab Poppy. 

How can you resist reindeer?  The Reindeer Center is located just beneath Cairn Eilrig.  I peeked over the fence numerous times during our stay in the Cairngorms.