Loch Etchachan and Loch Avon

Thursday 30th May 2013

The night before this walk I slept in the Coire Etchachan Bothy (a bothy is a basic shelter, usually left unlocked and available for anyone to use free of charge). I wanted a little more freedom on this holiday in where I walked and where I stayed, so the first step for me was to not always stay in a youth hostel, and to try bothies. This bothy was smaller than I expected and including a group of Dutch people who camped outside, it was rather crowded. Nevertheless, I had a surprisingly restful night despite occasionally knocking feet with the person sleeping at the other end of the narrow sleeping bench, and also considering that this is the highest I’ve ever slept as the bothy is seven hundred metres above sea level. After a slow packup that had seen all the other people who were staying in the bothy leave before me, including those who had camped, I set off up the corrie just as it started to rain. After the good weather that I had seen at the end of the previous day's walk, it was disappointing for me to wake up to miserable weather again.

My original route for my great trail through the Cairngorms would have gone over the Lairig an Laoigh to the Fords of Avon, but since I was already part way up Coire Etchachan I thought I’d continue up to Loch Etchachan, where I’ve never been before. I had an enjoyable walk, despite the rain, climbing beside the Derry Burn out of the corrie and up to the side of Loch Etchachan and the awesome scenery that surrounds the loch. Ben MacDui, the second highest mountain in Britain, which forms the backdrop, was mostly covered in snow while the loch itself was almost completely frozen creating a stunning wintry scene that I rarely have a chance to see. Despite it being the end of May, winter still had a firm hold. Loch Etchachan is 927 metres above sea level and is the highest body of water of its size in the UK. While I was at the loch the rain stopped and it felt as if the whole world had paused while I gazed in awe at the stunning scenery that surrounded the loch.

I had considered climbing Ben MacDui, a mountain that I had previously visited in 2005, but the abundance of snow at the top put me off (wisely), so I eventually dragged myself away from the loch and carefully made my way across various snow-fields to the steep path that descends into the shelter stone corrie. On both my previous visits to the Cairngorm Mountains, in 2005 and in 2009, I had wanted to climb Ben MacDui from the Shelter Stone via Loch Etchachan. I was unable to on those occasions and once again on this occasion the wintry conditions prevented the ascent, but now that I have been able to experience the atmosphere of sub-arctic Loch Etchachan I’m no longer so desperate to climb Ben MacDui that way. I may not have bagged the mountain on this occasion, but I saw some stunning sights on the way and that is more important. The cliffs that surround the western end of Loch Avon are indisputably grander than those around Loch Etchachan, but I had been to Loch Avon on my previous visits and knew what an awe-inspiring sight I’d see as I dropped down to the bottom of the corrie.

Below the awesome, majestic crags that surround the end of Loch Avon is an array of rocks that have fallen off the crags and in some cases have fallen in such a way as to create convenient shelters, hence the name, the Shelter Stone. I don’t know if there is supposed to be one particular stone with this name, but I found many that could provide shelter, most of them with small stones built up at one end to keep out the elements. It does makes you wonder what it would be like to spend the night under one of these huge rocks, and whether claustrophobia would begin to set in. After creeping underneath one to experience the cave-like cavity it started raining again, but rather than sheltering under the rock I made my way down to the small river that feeds into Loch Avon. The previous day I had noticed that the rivers were full, so since I’d had difficulty crossing the Fords of Avon in 2009, I thought this diversion would be easier, but all I found was that the river on this side of Loch Avon was also a torrent.

The river was fast moving and very deep, and despite walking up and down the bank of the river many times I decided that I would just have to take the plunge, get my feet wet and rely on my walking poles to stop me from being washed away. Eventually I managed to get across with wet feet and wet legs all the way up to my knees, but I did make it safely across and started to walk beside the river and subsequently alongside Loch Avon. I never take off my shoes and socks for crossing rivers as it is much better to have the firm foothold of my boots rather than my sensitive, slippery bare feet, and besides, there were plenty of streams and bogs on the path ahead of me to ensure that if my feet didn’t get wet crossing the river, then they would definitely be wet by the end of the day. The path beside the loch was atrocious, very muddy and wet, but the sun came out! The rain stopped soon after I crossed the river and the sun came out before I had my lunch. The bog-trot continued past the end of Loch Avon all the way to the Fords of Avon.

After a short rest at the fords I set off on a long, solitary trek down Glen Avon. The path beyond the fords was better, still with some bogs but the terrain was completely different. After walking through a narrow, vee-shaped valley, the glen broadened to a landscape without the majestic crags typical of Ben MacDui and replaced by bleak, heather moors on gently sweeping hills. The path improved to a good track when I reached Faindouran Lodge, another bothy, where I considered spending the night, but since it was still quite early and the sun was shining I felt like keeping walking. Despite the uninspiring scenery at the start I really enjoyed my long stroll down this tranquil, isolated valley. A small ravine and mysterious tors at the top of the hills kept my interest as I swallowed up the miles until eventually I reached a broad grassy field just beyond the Linn of Avon that would be a perfect location to pitch a tent, and so for the first time in my walking career that was what I did, and spent the night under canvas.