Beinn a’ Bhuird loop from Braemar
Date(s) walked: 1-2 August 2026
Date(s) walked: 1-2 August 2026
My first ever Munro! To those not in the know, these are peaks above 3000 ft (914.4 metres) in Scotland, of which there are 282. Many people here engage in “Munro bagging”, trying to tick off all of these summits one by one. I am not a Munro bagger. Historically, because of my tendon issues preventing me from taking on any major ascent (and because hills are tiring) but also philosophically there is something about the pursuit that rubs me the wrong way. I think because it feels like a tick box exercise. Up and down a hill, check. Does not appeal to me. I also feel bad for all the hills that are just short of Munro status and therefore no one visits them (this is actually a thing).
Day 1: Braemar to the southwestern slopes of Beinn a’ Bhuird | 17.79 km
There has not been a single time that I’ve taken the bus journey to Braemar without being very stressed. This is because of the connection in Dundee. Theoretically, a 32 minute transfer time should be plenty, but somehow the Edinburgh-Dundee bus always ends up running very late. This time we left Haymarket roughly on time and I thought that we would actually for once be on time. But no. Traffic ground to a halt outside the airport, turns out there was a monster truck festival (???) on at the Highland Centre… We moved at a snail’s pace until crossing the Forth Bridges, at that point running 40 minutes behind schedule. Ember has a live chat function (one more praise for Ember!!) and I asked them if there is any chance the Braemar bus might wait if we end up being only a few minutes late and they said yes! They would hold the bus up to 10 minutes for us. Queue more stress as that 10 minutes would be very tight. In the end we made it with 2 minutes to spare but the driver didn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave anyway. The Braemar bus is unpleasant for a different reason: the road is so winding I always end up feeling really sick. I’ve been experimenting with some anti-nausea bands with mixed success: on this occasion they did not seem to help at all. In addition, the bus smelled horribly of piss… Anyway, made it to Braemar right after 4pm and I set out once again walking on the Linn of Dee road west. Boring and constant vigilance required with speeding cars but there is no other option when relying on public transport. A new sign had appeared as you leave Braemar reminding people of the new fire byelaws. I wonder if it was put up in response to the major wildfire that has been burning for weeks now in the northern Cairngorms? I plod plod plodded the 6km of road and then turned onto some forestry tracks.
It started out nice, then came the high grass…
…and cow cautions…
The cows were not home, though. Turning off the farm road I encountered a police car and a sign on the gate. Not sure what the police were doing as they just stayed put as I passed. I wasn’t going near the wildfire on my route but many routes starting from here do go through north so it’s great that they’ve put up some signage. I saw no evidence of the fire during my trip, although on the second day there were a few helicopters flying over the area but they could have had nothing to do with it. The track into Glen Quoich was surrounded by heather that was just starting to turn that lovely purple. I passed The Punch Bowl, a water-sculpted rock cavity that supposedly was used by various parties through history for toasting this or that occasion, but there was a family camped right by it so I didn’t stop to have a look. The river formed multiple small waterfalls that I followed upstream. It threatened to rain throughout the evening but fortunately it never did! It was clear that rain was sorely needed, though, as the river was obviously running very dry. There were several options of paths running along the river and I mostly picked the wrong ones. Had to fight through bog and overgrown sections but luckily not for too far.
I recommend either sticking right by the river or taking the vehicle track that runs further up the hill.
There is one water crossing on this route that might present some problems but it was so dry when I crossed that I didn’t even have to get my shoes wet.
This whole stoney bed can be submerged in wetter conditions!
Some free advertising for Aldi, you’re welcome!
The ascent started through some very nice old pine trees.
The trees and path then both narrowed out.
Along the path also ran something of an ant highway, I couldn’t believe how far they were all going in a narrow stream, for at least 100 metres they ran alongside me!
The ascent was fairly steep but I stopped regularly to take in the views downhill.
Another path appreciation picture:
I was relying heavily on my trekking poles to help propel me upward, giving my arms a proper workout. On this particular day, though, I welcomed the arm pain. Exactly a year ago I was lying in a hospital bed after surgery to have a metal plate and 11 screws put into my left arm to fix a gnarly proximal humerus fracture. I remember being in a lot of pain, unsure of how much of my arm function I would ever be able to regain. Fast forward a year and I would say that my arm is 95% back to what it was. So I didn’t mind the arm pain because it was normal, exercise-induced muscular pain, a reminder that I was working my arms in a way that I wasn’t sure I would be able to a year ago.
As I reached the saddle between Carn Allt na Beinne and Beinn a’ Bhuird, it was slowly starting to get dark so I started looking around for a place to pitch for the night. It was going to be fairly steep up the rest of the way to Beinn a’ Bhuird so when I found a moderately even spot a bit uphill I decided to call it a day. Had some of my usual trouble pitching the Lanshan but we got there in the end (the shape of it looks a bit funny in the pictures below because the wind was mauling it…).
This was my first time using the solid inner that I’d bought after discovering that the mesh inner was not midge-proof (only applies to the 2026 model of the tents, it seems)… The solid inner still has small panels with the crap mesh so I ended up butchering a midge net and sewing on a second midge-proof mesh layer. Quite pleased with the result.
My little sewing project.
Day 2: Southwestern slopes of Beinn a’ Bhuird to Braemar | 27.50 km
Managed to start walking just after 8am - I don’t know where the time always goes in the morning.
Leave no trace - check.
Picked up the path where I left off, continuing the ascent to Beinn a’ Bhuird.
Views looking down.
There were a few steep bits but overall it was a gentle climb.
Further up, the vegetation became almost desert-like.
There were some nice views west to the main Cairngorm range that are just not conveyed in the pictures I took.
The path reaches the plateau (Beinn a’ Bhuird means “table mountain”, a suitable name) right above Dubh Lochan with magnificent views down the corrie.
The south top of Beinn a’ Bhuird in the distance.
The vegetation really was unlike anywhere else that I’ve been.
It felt like it took forever walking across flat ground until reaching the actual summit (1197 m) - table mountain living up to its name.
Looking back.
Summit cairn.
The path ends abruptly at the cairn and the next bit involved finding your own way across moss and the weird grass lumps.
The landscape felt somehow extraterrestial, not helped by the fact that I hadn’t seen any humans since the start of Glen Quoich the day before.
On the way to Cnap a’ Chlèirich, another top on the plateau, I came across a stream crossing!
Not something I was expecting at such a high elevation. It must be spring-fed as this was almost at the top of the plateau.
The top of Cnap a’ Chlèirich (“The Cleric/Clergyman’s Knoll” - it seems what person this is referring to has sadly been lost to history) is full of these huge smooth boulders.
They must somehow have been shaped by some ancient glacier activity, I can’t believe just rainwater would do that to rock at the top of a 1172 metre peak?
From there I started descending towards The Sneck, the bealach between Cnap a’ Chlèirich and Ben Avon.
The Sneck, with the Ben Avon plateau in the distance.
It was fine until the very steep bit which being pure sand and small rocks was a nightmare to get down. I resorted to a few bum-slides down the worst parts. To my embarrassment my endeavours were being observed by several people taking in the views (and some lunch) at The Sneck. Especially the children seemed to enjoy my bum-slides. From here on, I ran into a steady stream of people the rest of the afternoon, all seemingly heading up to Ben Avon.
The slide.
I was a bit sad having to pass on Ben Avon because it looked like another great path up with the potential for great views. Even the views up the hill from The Sneck were probably my favourite of the day. Ben Avon is so majestic, the scale of it is hard to show in the pictures but I sure felt very small even though I was standing at over 900 metres.
I passed loads of people heading up, feeling like an oracle answering their questions about the weather “up there”. I never quite know how to navigate passing people on a very narrow path - who gives way to whom? Do I voluntarily step into the tick grass or does the other person? I feel like I’ve mastered the “when to say hello, who says hello first” situation (the stuff of Finnish nightmares) but the path waltz still stresses me out. Particularly lower down I also encountered many cyclists and inevitably there I am the person who has to jump into the grass - that does not feel quite fair, even if they do say thank you. Is there a narrow trail etiquette? If not, can we please establish one?
The trail got very dreamy again after crossing the Glas Allt Mòr and I made speedy progress.
When I was passing below Carn Eag Dhubh I saw a tent pitched on the other side of the river.
It walk a long walk down the glen but the views either way were super nice.
In a way, I get this dual approach of cycling the “boring bits” and then walking up - I have considered doing it myself at times. But I also feel kind of peeved when I’m passing all these bikes next to the path. I think because it’s part of the “tick off a Munro as quickly and easily as possible” approach. Do we have to cycle the moment that walking is required in boring, less difficult terrain? I know I complain about road walking but it bring diversity to my hikes and makes me appreciate when I get to be off road. I enjoy walking as a whole, not just walking up mountains, and maybe that’s the difference between Munro baggers and me. I entered Gleann an t-Slugain, also known as the fairy glen.
The Secret Howff is a bit of a legend, a basic stone shelter whose location is supposed to be kept secret by those in the know. It was built by a few mountaineering guys in the 1950s when camping gear was heavy and they wanted to avoid having to lug it up to climb the cliffs of Beinn a’ Bhuird. They hauled up building materials past the estate in the dead of night, constructing the shelter over a couple of years without the knowledge of the landowner. Nowadays, The Secret Howff is more of a tourist attraction, mostly visited by people who seek the thrill of locating it than by those actually needing it for shelter. It’s possible to figure out the location of the howff by analysing a few subtle clues left by various internet posters in their trip reports - I’ve managed to figure it out, although only after my trip so I didn’t visit it while I was in the area.
I had a quick coffee break at the side of the road before upping my pace to make sure I would catch the bus.
The path turned into a wider vehicle track at the bottom of the glen as you enter the forest.
I was greeted by some very noisy horses passing by one of the farms - I could hear them from miles away (okay, not literally, but I was approaching through the woods and wondered what kind of creature could possibly be the source of all that noise).
I said hello and hoofed it (hehe) to the main road. Recently, a new path has been built that leads to Braemar without having to walk on the A93 - absolutely necessary because that road is really dangerous. I followed the path over the Old Bridge of Dee, built in 1752 to help military troops move across the Highlands after the Jacobite rising.
In the end, I made it to the bus with about 10 minutes to spare. I was absolutely exhausted. Someone had attached a googly eye to the bus window and I spent the journey giggling at it jiggling with the movement of the bus. I think I was a bit tired.
I felt no motion sickness the whole way back on the bus - I can’t figure out why I sometimes feel so sick and other times not. The journey back was undramatic and made it home after 9pm after an action-packed weekend.
Concluding remarks
Overall, one of my favourite trips. The scenery was beautiful, and probably even more importantly for my enjoyment, I had such nice paths/roads underfoot pretty much the whole time. I’m not sure I will manage to do another boggy walk now that I’ve been spoiled by such a nice experience. I’m not happy that I feel this way because I don’t want us to have the kind of trail system that the US has where access to nature is “regulated” or restricted to certain paths but it was undeniably so much more enjoyable to be walking on proper trail. I was also surprised that I enjoyed the high-level walking as much as I did. You won’t find me Munro bagging anytime soon but it was nice to challenge myself with more uphill and of course the views were great as well.
While I could manage with the time pressure of the trip, I must say that having to rush spoils things a little. With these short trips (and having to rely on public transport) it’s unavoidable that some time pressure is involved but this was quite an extreme case. I wouldn’t necessarily have changed anything but I do find myself longing for some longer trips where you can decide how far you go each day. While I wait for that to be possible, I’ll aim to pick routes that allow for a bit more flexibility with regards to timings (or pick slightly less ambitious routes…)!