Ben Avon

Tuesday 7th June 2016

The night before this walk I had slept at three thousand feet between the high mountains of Beinn a’ Bhùird and Ben Avon. The weather was amazing all evening and the same clear blue skies welcomed me when I woke up in the morning. I was astonished at how warm it felt at seven o’clock in the morning high up the mountain, but I guess I was feeling the benefits of a temperature inversion so this wasn’t as unusual as I’d thought. By the time I was breaking camp and preparing to leave it felt really hot prompting me to think that it was far too warm to be walking with a heavy rucksack up a mountain. I had never slept at this height before and never experienced the unusual weather that you can get at this time of the day upon a mountain. It felt great to already be near the top of the mountain when most people were still getting out of bed. I had camped near the Sneck and, since I had visited the summit of Beinn a’ Bhùird the day before, I now turned right at the saddle heading towards Ben Avon.

As I climbed up the steep, stony slopes it started clouding over a lot earlier than it had the previous two days. The day before in the afternoon there had been rain in the far south-west of the Cairngorms National Park, but where I had been it had stayed clear, and I’d been expecting similar weather for this walk. By the time I reached Leabaidh an Daimh Bhuidhe, the highest point on Ben Avon, there were extensive clouds to the south but clear skies to the north and good views across the distinctive rock tors, reminiscent of Dartmoor, that litter the many tops of Ben Avon. A relatively easy climb up the rocks brought me up to the highest point on the Munro with stunning views into the extensive foothills to the north. It was fabulous standing at the summit and gazing at all the mountains of the Cairngorms National Park revelling in that unique and special feeling of being at the top of a mountain in Scotland. Words cannot express how awesome is the sight of Scottish mountains in all directions and as far as the eye can see.

Making my way across from the summit I stopped off at the nearest rock tor, on an unnamed 1147 metre top, which I climbed up to gaze out over the spell-bounding view. From there I made my way to an unnamed 1136 metre top and climbed up to the top of that rock tor. It was my intention to explore the extensive summit plateau of Ben Avon visiting as many of the tors as I had time for slowly making my way all the way down the eastern slopes via East Meur Gorm Craig on the same route that I had taken in ascent three years previously. However, while at the foot of the 1136 metre top, just after climbing down from the top, I heard a very loud crack of thunder that terrified me to my core. I suddenly realised that I was at the top of a high mountain during a thunder storm. The clouds that had built up during the morning had, without warning, started unleashing their store of static electricity. I was very exposed at the top of this mountain and needed to get down as quickly as possible, so fearing another lightning strike I rushed off north towards Stob Bac an Fhurain.

This is a commonly recommended route of descent off Ben Avon and I was more than happy to take it in order to get off the mountain as quickly as possible. In a state of panic I hastily made my way past the tall rocks of Clach Bun Rudhtair and down the long heather-covered ridge of Dà Dhruim Lom while all the way trying to keep below the top of the ridge or any pinnacles of rock. Thankfully the thunder storm had rumbled off away from Ben Avon enabling me to safely get down to the bottom of Glen Avon. At a bridge over the River Avon I finally stopped and was able to relax and release all my built-up nerves that had sent me rushing down the mountain. There, beside the river, I had my lunch while the thunder continued to roll over the nearby mountains. When I had recovered I set off along the landrover track that I had walked upon previously passing the Linn of Avon and the spot where I had camped three years ago. Soon after crossing the Builg Burn my mp3 player played the Jesus Culture track “Let It Rain” and behind me I could see that rain was coming down the valley. God had heard what I was listening to!

Hastily I put my waterproofs on so that by the time the floodgates of heaven really had opened I was ready for whatever the weather had while I made my way down the textbook example of a glacial valley in Glen Avon. The thunder continued to roll as I slowly made my way down the valley past peaceful, pastoral scenes for a long walk-out of the mountains all the way to the village of Tomintoul. The weather on my holiday had been astonishingly good, but as is often the case in Britain the unusually warm weather finally broke with a thunder storm and I was now experiencing the worst weather of my holiday. This was a curious day that started with those warm blue skies at three thousand feet and the stunning sight of Scottish mountains from the top of Ben Avon. The day changed instantly and dramatically when I heard that thunder clap prompting a hasty retreat off the mountain, while the rest of the day was a sedate stroll along the picturesque valley of Glen Avon. Ben Avon was the last mountain of my holiday and I’m glad that it was on such a great mountain, despite my quick descent.