An overnight backpacking trip in Highland Perthshire taking in Ben Vuirich and part of the Beinn a' Ghlo range before returning via the enigmatic Loch Loch
Date: 31 August 2024
Distance: 37.7km
Ascent: 1,705m
Time: 26hrs
Hills: Ben Vuirich (Corbett), Carn nan Gabhar (Munro)
Weather: Clear skies and sunshine on day 1 albeit with a cool wind, before cloud and mist on day 2
Route: View on OS Maps
It had been more than a year since my last camping (mis)adventure and I hoped that the intervening period, slowly building back up towards longer days, runs and cycling, meant I would have a better time of things than last May. At the very least I now take a daily blood thinner so the chances of getting another blood clot should be remote... Nevertheless I was nervous about over committing and decided to do a fairly tame route in Highland Perthshire, combining a new Corbett, Beinn Vuirich, with a revisit to Beinn a' Ghlo and a route back via the enigmatic Loch Loch.
The drive north via Perth and Pitlochry and then up the narrow, twisting A-road towards the Bridge of Cally was all fairly uneventful and I easily found the gravel parking spot that Steven Fallon mentions in his route description. I was the only car there.
The morning was bright, though there was a chill in the air out of the sunshine. The MWIS forecast for this last weekend of August had been almost dream-like; promising light winds, cloud-free hilltops and warm temperatures. It got one out of the three right...
The first part of the walk was a thankfully short trudge down the main road to the grand gates marking the entrance to Tarvie's driveway. This more pleasant piece of tarmac led gradually up through sunlit trees before a narrow path continued north to avoid the main house. I crossed a rusted barbed wire fence and then followed a faint path across a sheep field to regain the Tarvie estate track near a plantation.
A slightly steeper pull brought me to Tarvie Loch with its little boathouse. As I reached the water's edge a huge heron lifted off and disappeared away beyond the loch. The ling heather was past its best but there were still purple patches fringing the shores of the loch.
The vehicle track wound up the open strath with hills on either side. In the distance the ragged, loosely defined western ridge of Ben Vuirich came into view. After crossing the Tarvie Water there was a fork in the road, with one path sticking close to the burn and the other heading up between heather hillocks to an estate building.
It looked like it might be better to stick close to the water and then make for the higher ground so this is what I did. The track continued for a short way before ending, leaving me to plunge into the deep heather and slowly wade my way across boggy ground to reach the ridge. The going was tough but with some perseverance I made it up to the Drum Mor. Here thing's eased a bit as the terrain was rockier, the heather sparse and low and I made better progress up to the top of Carn Dubh.
From here there were grand views back the way I had come, over to the summit of the Corbett itself, and beyond to the great grey whalebacked shape of Beinn a' Ghlo.
After a brief pause at the top I made my way up the final slope to the summit of Ben Vuirich where I discovered the cold wind that would prove MWIS wrong. I sought shelter behind the summit stones and enjoyed a lazy late lunch.
After this I contemplated my onward route. I was going to descend down towards Loch Valigan and then cut over to the track which runs around the southern side of Beinn a' Ghlo. Before that though I wanted to get the view north from Ben Vuirich over Beinn a' Ghlo and down to Loch Loch, hidden in its secretive glen to the northeast. I didn't have to drop far off the summit to get this stunning view.
After taking in this magnificent wild landscape I headed off to the west, following the relatively gentle slope down towards Stac nam Bodach. The going was fairly easy and I decided it would be better to cut across to the track earlier, rather than having to descend the steep slopes from Stac nam Bodach. This meant descending into a shallow bowl with an allt running through it. I was grateful for the opportunity to refill my water bottle.
From the allt there was then a gently rise and a few peat hags to negotiate to finally reach the firmer footing offered by the landrover track. As I joined it I watched a cyclist crest the rise and pause to wait for a companion who was coming up some distance behind.
I wasn't on the track long before a branch took me off and down towards the Allt Coire Lagain which I crossed easily on boulders before picking up a faint track that took me along the base of Airgiod Bheinn and towards the fastness of the great coire on the southeastern side of Beinn a' Ghlo.
I knew that Airgiod Bheinn was steep (having descended that way previously, albeit in winter) but it offered the most logical route from this position to the summit of Carn nan Gabhar, my intended destination for the evening. The route is used enough that there are some established paths and it was one of these that I picked up to quickly gain height away from the glen floor.
I perhaps missed a turn and the path started to steer me back the way I had come, rather than gaining more height so eventually I had to climb up through steep heather to rejoin a more direct route. This led into the base of a steep gully which offered little firm ground. I scrabbled my way up slick rock and grass, glad to finally reach a slightly levelling where the path became more established.
The afternoon was progressing and the light turning hazy. Near at hand though the middle Munro of Beinn a' Ghlo, the wonderfully named Braigh Coire Chruinn-bhalgain, shone in the sunlight, the summer greens contrasting with the grey streaks of scree on its flanks.
Over to my right I could look back across the wide glen I had crossed and up to the summit of Ben Vuirich now almost lost in the hazy distance.
The established path was steep but much easier going than the gully and I made better progress up the increasingly stony slopes to the top of Airgiod Bheinn. As I reached the rocky summit the Munro of Carn nan Gabhar appeared in the background.
The top of Airgiod Bheinn was a good place to stop for a sit down and a bite to eat. I had to find a sheltered spot though as once again the conditions were deceptive and there was still a cold wind blowing hard across the hills. It definitely didn't feel much like an August day.
After the quiet Corbett I could see that Beinn a' Ghlo was much busier with several groups visible making their way to or from the nearby summit of Carn nan Gabhar.
Soon I was one of those small figures crossing this vast near-plateau landscape. I dropped down from Airgiod Bheinn, passing someone snoozing in the afternoon sunshine, before picking up the baggers path coming up from the bealach to the west. Soon I was regaining the height I had lost, with the views now opening up across the range of hills that make up Beinn a' Ghlo.
The path was lost amongst rocks and boulders but it was only a short distance up to the first of the cairns on the summit plateau and the actual summit itself wasn't much further away beyond that.
I reached the trig point shortly after 5pm, just as the last of the daywalkers were heading off. I spotted a couple who had pitched their tent in a good looking spot just west of the summit. A summit camp had been a possibility but this settled my decision to continue north and find a bit of peace away from the summit. Before continuing though I had a sit down and ate some final food, enjoying the late light playing over the hazy hills.
The haziness hid the distant hills but from this position there were still good views away across Glen Tilt and the rolling hills of the southern Cairngorms.
Now keen to find a spot for the tent I dropped off the summit picking up a narrow path that led north down a wide ridge. I followed this path, occasionally leaving it either east or west to inspect possible sites. I got an interesting view down steep slopes to the very end of Loch Loch, now far below me. Ben Vuirich continued to be illuminated by the late afternoon sunshine.
Eventually, just as I was giving up hope, I came down a strange bank of ground-down quartzite to a spot just before the rise up to Meall a' Mhuirich. Here there was a lovely flat, dry spot with enough space to get the tent up.
It was a good spot with views north up the Tarff Water towards the distant central Cainrgorms and nearer at hand, those hills around the head of Glen Ey, including the distinctive grey slopes of Carn an Righ which had featured on one of my very early wild camping adventures.
Closer at hand were the hills of Beinn a' Ghlo, with a vast yawning coire off to the west leading down into gloomy Glen Tilt where the sun had already long set.
With the tent up I was able to relax into a pleasant evening, cooking dinner and chilling out in the door of the tent as the sun sank lower. The cold wind never let up and the temperature dropped as the sun got closer to the horizon. Above me I watched as the summit of Carn nan Gabhar was swallowed by mist.
With the sun gone and mist building the temperatures dropped quite rapidly and I was glad to finally get wrapped up in my sleeping bag with my Kindle and some music on headphones. When I looked out later on the stars had been swallowed up by a covering of clouds.
Although I set my alarm for sunrise when I poked my head out the pre-dawn didn't look overly promising so I rolled over and went to sleep for another couple of hours. I eventually roused myself a little before 7:30am with the world looking rather more grey than the day before.
There was a general sheet of thick cloud overhead and billowings of broken mist in the glens below. I had a slow, lazy breakfast whilst I contemplated my route options. I was keen to get down to the banks of Loch Loch and picked out a likely looking route that offered a more gently route down into Glen Loch from just beyond the summit where I had camped.
From Loch Loch I would be able to pick up a track down through lower Glen Loch and into Gleann Fearnach, and from there I could either continue all the way down to the main road, or cut back across low hills and moorland to Tarvie.
I got everything packed away and was off by around 8:30. The cloud base continued to rise and fall but stayed just high enough that I could follow the fall of the northeastern ridge of Meall a' Mhuirich and then pick my way carefully down below Meall Gharran.
I started off on a ridge but the deep heather eventually drove me down into a grassy gully where an allt was flowing down towards the glen. There were occassionaly views down the length of Loch Loch and ahead Carn an Righ was slowly being cleared of mist.
The ground was quite steep towards the bottom of the slop but I carefully picked a line and it eventually eased until I was down at the banks of the An Lochain, winding its way between the dramatic slopes of upper Glen Loch.
I was only a short distance north of Loch Loch and there was a good path to follow which now sped up my progress. The path led my to a crossing of the Allt Lochain and then I picked my way along to the end of the loch itself where the path became more established.
A cold wind was blowing down the glen, ruffling the surface of the loch. It was a wild and lonely place to be early on a Sunday morning. The path mostly stuck close to the shoreline, occasionally rising over a small headland. I was soon at the narrow neck separating the two halves of the loch where a very short river moves water between one part and the other. Ben Vuirich could now be seen with a cap of cloud south of the loch.
There was one larger headland to cross which gave good views back up the loch. The slopes of Beinn a' Ghlo and the location of my camp site could now be seen as the cloud gradually lifted from the summits.
At the gravelly beach at the end of the loch I paused for a mid-morning snack break, enjoying a seat on the grassy edge and contemplating this cold, and lonely place.
The good track continued on beyond the loch and I was soon back on more familiar ground, gradually winding down towards where the junction of yesterday's track would be met.
Here the first people of the day were met, a group of three mountain bikers out enjoying these splending gravel tracks. They passed me with a wave and were soon climbing up into Gleann Fearnach. I followed at a more leisurely pace. Behind Beinn a' Ghlo continued to hold onto its cap of cloud and I was glad I hadn't opted to return along the hills.
At Daldhu I paused briefly to admire the lush garden they had growing behind tall fences and then headed down into the wider plains of Gleann Fearnach.
My legs still felt good and I didn't fancy the amount of tarmac that would come of continuing down to the road, so shortly after gaining the west bank of the river I left the track behind and struck out on a bearing that would take me across the shoulder of the hills and back to the Tarvie.
The going was fairly slow without a path and the terrain being a mix of tussock and peat bog. But I persevered, crossing several fences and generally trying to keep to higher, drier ground where possible. I contemplated heading up onto one of the summits, either north or south of the pass but ultimately decided to stick to my more direct course.
At the watershed I paused for a break. The day continued to be cloudy and a cold wind blew across these moors. I spotted what might have been a hunting party in the distance but they disappeared up a different track.
The land now fell gently towards the Tarvie. A sort of path appeared out of the heather and bog but it was muddy and occasionally disappeared completely. It did make progress a bit quicker and eventually I saw Tarvie Loch appear with its boathouse and stand of trees. It was a relief to sit at the dam for a final break.
Now I was on familiar ground and I retraced my steps of the previous morning, down the track, across fields, through the woods and down Tarvie driveway to the road and ultimately the car.
It had been a great little trip, and I was delighted that my legs hadn't given me any problems.