Saturday 8 February 2020

Badenoch - A little bit of wildness in my life

There is no real wilderness left in Scotland. The hills may look empty but there are no longer big tracks of land untouched by the hand of man or unaltered by his meddling with nature. Only fragments remain of the Highland pinewoods and the coastal rainforests which have been diminished by the monoculture of grouse moors or overgrazed by sheep and deer. And long gone are the apex predators that stalked those woods. But mankind has not always been in this landscape and one day in the future, will no doubt be absent again, and the wilderness will return. My heart aches though with the knowledge that my own life will have been lived in an era when nature is so diminished. I have to find joy, not in wilderness, but in ‘wildness’ which I think of as small pockets of the land where nature still reigns and the elements feel dominant. Thankfully, there is still a lot of wildness in Scotland. I would even say that in my lifetime, the places of wildness have increased a little, as man’s hand has been turned to good for a change.  

One place where I find wildness is a cluster of small, unassuming hills, tucked away behind Dalwhinnie. The land here, as everywhere, is much altered with woods crippled by overgrazing and now a powerline connecting the grid to a new hydro scheme on the Pattack. But there is nonetheless wildness here that overcomes these negatives, allowing the natural landscape to shine through. I’ve visited these hills twice now, both times in January, so the winter elements and emptiness probably add to the feeling of wildness. The second visit was a little less empty as my friend Graham came along too. 

Not as flashy as their nearby Munro neighbours, these hills are still rugged and shapely and inviting. The walk there is just under one and a half hours from the train station at Dalwhinnie. At first it’s along the road north but it soon turns off onto the old right of way to Feagour. 


Track and footpath then meander up the glen, switching back and forth on different sides of the river. The view ahead is dominated by the rocky pyramid of the main hill of the group, Meall nan Eagan, and softened by thin birch woods, remnants of a once bigger forest. The weather on my most recent visit was mild and grey, contrasting with my first trip which was gripped in frozen snow and ice, adding to the still, quietness of the place.


Soon the glen opens out to a wide upper valley and the view now extends to the Fara, rising to the east in snow-streaked slopes, and the Dircs, two gigantic, boulder-strewn slashes in the landscape. In my mind, the Dircs are the key factor in the wildness of this place. A throwback to the last Ice Age, they were created thousands of years ago by glacial meltwater. 


When the ground is frozen, there are lots of options for pitching the tent. When it’s not, we are squeezed onto a grassy verge on a bend in the river. The river is narrow at this point but eerily deep, and just upstream it cascades over rocks, filling the place with sound.


My usual walk is an amble up Meall nan Eagan which affords great views despite its lack of height. The Ben Alder Munros stretch out to the south, all bulk and dramatic ridgeline, while the snow-covered plateau of Creag Meagaidh fills the view north.  


I then drop westwards off the top and investigate the lower reaches of the Dirc Mhor and the Dirc Beag. I marvel at the wild secrets hidden in their little-visited boulder fields and inaccessible woods. In the Dirc Beag a stream meanders through a jumble of huge rocks which sprout gnarled trees and colourful mosses. On the grass is scat and the skeleton of a deer that's been separated and dragged about the place. A predator of some sort. Finally I meander back alongside the river and finish the day with a lazy afternoon, relaxing at the tent.


Sitting there sipping tea and enjoying the last remnants of the Christmas cake, I gaze across to the opposite side of the river. There is a fenced area of regenerating woods - another bit of wildness. I dream that in the years to come the trees will break free of the fence that confines them and run rampant across the hills. Then this place will again be wilderness.

Fact File
Start/finish: Dalwhinnie
Public transport: Inverness trains and buses
My route: From the station walked down to the main street, turned left and walked out on the A889. At the top of its steep climb the right of way to Feagour is signed to the left. Pass in front of the cottage and continue up the glen on footpath and track. Meall nan Eagan appears ahead. The east shoulder gives easy access to the top. Dropped off west and followed the Allt an t-Sluic back, giving good views into the Dircs. I walked through the Dirc Mhor a few years ago - it's rough. The Dirc Bheag looks impenetrable. Returned to Dalwhinnie next morning the same way. This makes for good short trip or easy overnighter.

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