Arriving in Aviemore Railway Station from Stirling at 12.30 pm. the sun was shining - I remember my fellow adventurer Jim (JJ) Walker remarking that he hoped this was a good omen!. It wasn't, as just after we'd lunched at the Temperance Hotel and were half a mile on the way, the rain came down in torrents.

Aviemore, flanked by the swift running River Spey, consists of two luxurious hotels, a few scattered shops and villas, a Bank of Scotland, a railway station and has a very picturesque setting midst wooded slopes about 800 feet above sea level. Away to the South, the Duke of Gordon's Monument and the Waterloo Cairn are outstanding landmarks, while to the South-East today the enormous bulk of the Cairngorms was just visible in the mist.

Finding to our disgust that the Temperance Hotel didn't stock writing paper and thus forced to use telegram forms instead, we persuaded the proprietor to post our necessary arrival correspondence on the Monday despite our lack of stamps. This done we set out in a South-East direction, across the Spey towards the little village of Inverdruie where we left the main road and struck South through Rothiemurchus Forest.

At that point the rain abated leaving everything fresh and sparkling in the consequent bright sunshine. One could not but experience an exhilarating feeling of joie de vivre', fitness, and sublime content with the scent of pine wood in one's nostrils and the fragrance of honeysuckle, bell heather, fox gloves and bracken all around.

Soon civilization is left behind and pretty little Loch an Eilein meets our gaze - a peaceful scene, with the Wolf of Badenoch's ruined castle in its midst. A halt here and three snaps of it.

On again, forking through the forest, climbing steadily towards the foot of Gleann Einich, and alongside a rushing stream, Am Beanaidh, remarkable for its brown stones and water. Another lovely snap here then so on up the glen with the hugh 'pile' of Braeriach, patched with snow, towering before us in the south.

Soon the forest gives way to moorland, swept by a refreshing hill wind, which dispels our extraordinary following of flies - troublesome brutes - and the hills appear to enclose us more and more - they are inviting today.

And now, within a mile of the lower bothy we see, high up on Creag Dubh, to the West, the famous Argyll Stone (2766 feet).

Hail the bothy and tea! (6 p.m.). It is a dilapidated shack in two parts. One part is very snug but padlocked, while the other serves as a stable and has only half a roof.

A shower of rain comes on, so we make the stable waterproof by means of a piece of corrugated iron and ground sheets and regale ourselves with sardines, half a loaf, butter and strawberry jam. After JJ has mistaken salt for sugar and some sardines have fallen into my tea, we succeed in accomplishing a highly satisfactory 'meal'.

A wash! - first since 7 a.m. - is indicated in the stream hard-by - an outlet of Coire an Lochain on Braeriach and the highest loch in Britain (3250 feet).

It's a lovely evening now, about 8.30 p.m., so we decide to walk a bit up the glen to see Loch Einich at its Southern end. Three hundred yards from the lower bothy we come upon the cairn built in memory of Thomas Baird, the Glasgow 'Varsity boy - and pause to pay our silent tributes of respect, admiration and sorrow. What a tragedy! Only 300 yards from help and life! We place a lovely red granite block in the centre of the cairn and build it up all round. Up nearer the Loch, a horse shoe presents itself. So we have a good spit each and heave it over our shoulders.

On our return we decide to apply gentle pressure to the steeple which holds the padlocked chain of the habitable quarter of the bothy (it has been obviously done before) and to our joy, it gives way very willingly. The time is now 9.45 p.m., so while waiting for supper, we settle down to our daily task - our diaries!

It has been a glorious afternoon and evening despite the short sharp showers which are a feature of these hills and every ridge and peak is now clearly defined against an almost cloudless darkening sky. One can hardly imagine that this place could ever be shrouded with mist, blinded by snow or rain, or swept by devastating winds

Our poor faces are 'peeling' from exposure but judging by their 'peeling rate' this process won't last long out here. Tomorrow we go up about 2 miles to Loch Einich at the head of the glen, then over the shoulder of Braeriach to the South East, thence visit Angel Peak, Cairn Toul, Wells of Dee and Braeriach before descending into the Lairig Ghru for the night at Corrour Bothy below Devil's Point.

Fauna have been scarce today but flora is abundant (even water lilies in Loch an Eilein), while all kinds of stone are to be found, though granite predominates.

I'm terribly sleepy and needing my bed - let's hope the porridge oats are good to-morrow after steeping the meal overnight.

Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive
While to be young was very heaven.

Wakened at 7.40 a.m. by JJ asking me to go for water - the porridge are getting too thick. However breakfast was a great success, as was the following shave using a biscuit tin lid for a mirror.

About 10.30 a.m., we swept the bothy, shouldered our rucksacks and set out for the head of the glen. There we beheld Loch Emich looking dark but transparent and walled in by huge peaks of rock.

Our path now rose steeply South-East over the shoulder of Braeriach and by noon, when we looked back to the North-West, we were rewarded for our climb by magnificent views of Glen Einich and Rothiemurchus Forest beyond. Needless to say, the camera was in full operation.

As we climbed, our packs became heavier and our stomachs lighter, until we reached Corrie Garbh about 2 p.m. and 4000 feet above sea level. Here we decided to have lunch. Gosh it was cold! But hot tomato soup, cold meat and peas and then fruit salad for dessert soon made things better.

Thereafter we decided to dump our rucksacks at this point for later collection. So, having tied a white handkerchief to each of them, we headed off for Angel Peak and Cairn Toul, 3950 and 4241 feet respectively.

Our way lay eastwards, round the vast Corries which separate Cairn Toul and Braeriach, up Angel Peak, down the other side and then up Cairn Toul. As we were on a plateau of 4000 feet, the peaks were easy of access but oh! they were stony! Huge boulders which we had to mount in much the same way as you climb a Stair.

The peaks afforded us with a glorious view of the Corries, chiefly An Choire Garbh. The mist was rising out of it like steam from a gigantic cauldron, snow made all sorts of fanciful shapes in the clefts (including a perfect map of Australia!), while the water from the Wells of Dee (source of the River Dee) hurtled down a sheer precipice to a depth of about 1500 feet -the height of Dumyat!

Cairn Toul gave us a magnificent view of Corrie Bhrochain - another wild, rugged, unscalable mass, carrying no sign of any life at all. Here also we had a fine view of the Lairig Ghru being drained by the Dee and containing our target bothy and shelter for the coming night. Just over the pass to the North-East, and towering high above it, lay Ben MacDhui (4296 feet) and North-North-East behind it lay Cairn Gorm (4084 feet) - our objectives of the morrow.

On Cairn Toul we met up with the two ladies and a gentleman who had been tailing us all day from Glen Einich. We duly took photographs to record the meeting before descending thence back to our packs below.

Having secured our rucksacks without difficulty, we now went round the North-West ridge of Corrie Gharbh, passed the Wells of Dee and climbed the easy remaining ascent to the Cairn of Braeriach (4248 feet)... .more, wonderfully rugged, grandeur, tempered by peaceful vistas... ..... and it was here that we had a gorgeous sight of a rainbow end in the Lairig far below, while the sight of Loch an Uaine nestling in the bosom of Cairn Toul and spilling water over the side in the shape of a waterfall into the glen below was unforgettable.

Really these hills and glens are gripping with their foregrounds of placid lochs, plunging waterfalls, rushing torrents and delicate tints adding their influence to the constantly changing scenic tones caused by the subtle effects of sun, mist and cloud. All within a background of rugged grandeur - absolutely invincible!

By now it was 6 p.m. and tea was indicated but alas no water in die vicinity. Accordingly, we decided to scramble down the side of Corrie Bhrochain for 1000 feet by way of loose sand and very stiff rocks. It was sore work and a bit dangerous, but thrilling and necessary... and worthwhile too as we startled a dozen red deer on the way.. .the first we'd seen.

Shortly after 7 p.m. we reached a convenient pool and drank our fill as we ravenously did justice to tinned salmon and a loaf of 'Bermaline' malt bread. We had felt dead tired before eating and drinking but this energising, coupled with a wash, made us fighting fit again and at about 8.30 pm. we set out on the remainder of our scramble into the Lairig Ghru 2000 feet far below.

Here we found a network of streams and boggy ground a real slog and very tiring to our weary limbs. But we plodded on to reach Corrour Bothy about 10.15 p.m. We were not alone in our glory as six Dundonians (two parties) were there as well to share the hikers' haven with us.

After partaking of the usual supper and exchanging questions and answers with our fellow lodgers, we washed (feet too!) and settled down to our diaries about 11.30 p.m. with the lantern hanging in the window above us to guide any other wanderer to safe harbour. Yes, of course we remembered to steep the meal before retiring... despite having to scrape half of it off the floor when JJ tripped and spilled the pot. It's after midnight before I crawl into 'bed' - been a great day climatically and in so many other ways. I think of Chapman's Homer - 'Much have I travelled in the realms of .....' Tomorrow we mean to cross the Lairig and climb Ben MacDhui, thence Northward to Cairn Gorm and descend by continuing North to rest at a bothy called 'Ryvoan'.

It's a great life, full of solitude and grandeur and sweet content. There are no worries except physical ones and it is realised here in these mountains, if anywhere, just how frail man is! Ah, well! Sleep! I wonder if all my loved ones are abed and how they've fared to-day?

Wakened at about 7 a.m. and rose about 8 a.m., forestalling the Dundonians for use of the communal table and making a very hearty breakfast of porridge and bacon. However you learn something new every day ...... the Dundee lads had a novel use for loaves of pan-bread - they used them as pillows all night! And for once JJ and JNK had bitten off more than they could chew because when we left at about 11 a.m. we had to leave at least four slices of brown bread and butter behind. Before leaving though, we exchanged photos with the Taysiders, and signed the visitors' book presented by the U.C.D. Cairn Gorm Club.

Then it was away and firstly we forded the Dee and approached the slopes of Cairn a Mhaim, a stepping stone to MacDhui. It was pretty steep going but, just after Jim had found some white heather, we struck a deer path which took us up to the summit in comparative comfort.

On again to the second climb, which was again steep and also stony - a sure sign that we were getting high. Ptarmigan were abundant here and JJ had a really fine cross-country race up and down the hill trying to photograph them. I don't know what he'd do without that camera of his and what endless amusement we cull from it.

About 2 p.m. we reached the summit of Ben MacDhui and once more we are provided with an orgy of beauty. In the South-East, another Loch an Uaine (3142 feet). There are four of these 'green' lochs - one on each of Cairn Toul, MacDhui and Cairn Gorm and the last one just about a mile West of Ryvoan Bothy, our home for this evening. North-East of the cairn of MacDhui lay another Loch - Etchachan, while to the South-East towered Cairn Gorm (3788 feet).

Although MacDhui was found to be very stony at the top and no gentler than the others, it was very mild when we got there. Hunger hastened lunch preparation and in a few minutes we had the stove heating the soup to a nice temperature. The tin-opener exposed corn beef and baked beans and having consumed this, we finished off with a dessert of fruit salad and semolina. After lunch was evaluation time for our respective diaries and on exchange reading we agreed that both passed muster. However despite the air being wonderfully mild, the scene pleasant, placid, grand and very congenial to a full stomach, a glance at the heavy clouds gathering, and a hint of thunder, suggested that we must soon be on our way.

Not a living soul in sight and we just remarked on how quickly the cold hard world could fall into obscurity and oblivion. Thus philosophising we journey on Northward towards the Shelter Stone at the West end of Loch Avon - but keeping our height. As we circled the ridge we had a lovely view of both lochs, Loch Etchachan and Loch Avon. The latter is a particularly 'bonnie' loch.

Meanwhile the clouds were descending lower and becoming thicker and Cairn Gorm was just visible amidst overhanging mist. By 5 p.m. the thunder was reverberating through the hills and we were plodding manfully on, up one slope, down the next, towards the summit. The last 1000 feet was a real tough climb in driving rain and clammy mist and, on reaching the top, we had to 'fumble' for the Cairn. However we stumbled on it eventually at about 6 o'clock, duly deposited our boulder and set about what had become a very serious task - to get down from there expeditiously and safely.

The driving rain turned to hail - huge lumps - but setting our backs to the Cairn and taking a compass bearing from our map, 1 degree West of North, we struck out hopefully for the valleys below where we trusted that there'd be better visibility and friendlier elements.

Fortunately we had taken an accurate bearing for soon we found a pile of stones (white) at intervals of 20 yards or so to guide us down in the way we should go. So on we stepped and slithered down, past the Marquis' Well, down the Coire na Ciste. But oh! It was miserable going! We were wet through, soaked to the skin as was everything else around us. The heather was knee deep, the gradient steep and tea time was being clearly indicated but impossible to execute. Still, in spite of my own misery, I had time to look for, and find white heather.

In due course - it seemed an eternity - the rain ceased and about 8 p.m. - 'Squelch! Squelch! Squelch!' - we reached an 8 foot high fence cutting off the private estate or preserve of Glenmore. Our path lay this way, and, as no one was likely to be about, we climbed the obstacle and approached our first trees since Sunday.

It started to rain again, so we rigged up a couple of ground sheets between two trees, and, in spite of wet clothes and terrible flies, had an excellent tea of chicken, ham and tongue and 'Bee-Zee-Bee' bread with butter and jam.

Cheers! It faired again, so, after a smoke, a consultation over the map, and a time exposure of Loch Morlich and the hills to the South-West, we set off once more 'doon the burn' for 2 miles, climbed the 8 foot fence on the North side of the estate and struck North-East towards Ryvoan Bothy, only two miles away now.

I must not forget to thank JJ here for saving me from strangling - if he hadn't rescued me, I'd still be hanging from that 'blessed' fence by my rucksack. Talking of rucksacks, these ones we have are real friends. Everything was bone dry inside them, although every item of clothing we were wearing was soaking. I wondered vaguely what people would think if they could have seen us then or knew of our condition. And yet we were as happy as crickets, though the word 'tired' could not do justice to describing our aching bodies.

Indeed this valley lying between Aviemore and Ryvoan, almost East and West, is a lovely sight as was proved as the weather improved into a fine evening. Nonetheless sighting the bothy at about 10 p.m. was great - never was 'home' in the hills more appreciated! Better still! Two 'kilties' from Nethy were there with a huge pine fire in the grate to welcome us.

An immediate dry down, cold wash and change was performed, the wet things hung up to dry, and cocoa and biscuits consumed before settling down, with admirable discipline, I thought, to our daily task - our diaries. It's 11.45 pm. now as I finish off this log for today.

The bothy here is wonderful, relatively speaking. We've had another hard day and trying, but I wouldn't have missed the experiences for all the comforts and luxuries to be had elsewhere. To emphasise the point - we've just seen our first newspaper, 'The Bulletin', since last Saturday - but it holds no interest to us in our present environment and states of mind. Again I repeat, no one can possibly imagine the power, the majesty and natural beauty of the surrounds, the variety of scenery and plant life, and the constant, irresistible and relentless changes brought about by the incessant fluctuations of the elements.

Tomorrow we walk to Aviemore, a mere 10 miles away, for more food and then return here to sleep - an easy day, but, by jove, despite being in the 'pink', we're needing it! Our stores have held out very successfully and everything has worked out according to plan, almost! That's four peaks over 4000 feet now, and on Friday, from Deeside, we mean to do the last two of the big 'six' - Ben an Bhuird and Ben Avon, thence to Ballater and Aberdeen. It's been a dull and overcast night so far, but we hope and pray for a good day tomorrow. ......... Excelsior!

Wakened at about 5.30 a.m. by the Nethy boys making breakfast - roasting 'mealy jerkers'. Later, on becoming more fully conscious, we found the bothy deserted, so had porridge and eggs alone in our glory. The porridge is really successful, especially when you've taken the time to steep the meal overnight. Shave next and a cold plunge in the nearby stream - both new men - ready for anything!

We leave our stuff in the bothy but take one empty rucksack and set out with light hearts and burden for Aviemore about 11 a.m. It's a lovely morning and the walk along the valley past Glenmore Lodge and the northern shore of Loch Morlich is very refreshing. Away to the South we scan the now familiar landmarks of the Caimgorms and our minds are well occupied with many recent associations.

As we get closer to Aviemore, we have a fine view of the northern entrance to the Lairig Ghru and, further to the West, of our first day's journey up Glen Einich. We can also follow quite clearly now, that ghastly descent from Cairn Gorm, 'midst mist and rain. Soon we reach Coylumbridge, just two miles from Aviemore, and, as the local 'hold-all' store offers nearly everything we need in the way of food, we grace the helpful, talkative proprietrix with our order and promise to return to uplift it at about six in the evening. Before leaving her we purchase seventeen postcards - views of hills and, while choosing them, are amused by the way the said woman gleans her information about the hills and stores it up for the benefit of her many patrons.

Aviemore, drier than when we last left it, is reached by about 2 p.m. and we lunch well, digesting concurrently, the heavy mail which awaited us there. After further necessary shopping was done, we repaired to the Temperance Hotel for tea and both of us agreed that it was a queer, unnatural feeling to be amongst houses and people and shops etc. - cramped, confined and bored.

We made a good tea, including honey we shouldn't have had, before squaring the proprietor. He asked us where we had been and told us of three young men who'd taken refuge in his establishment the previous night. On further inquiry we discovered them to be the same fellows that we'd left at Corrour Bothy on the Tuesday morning.

On our way back to uplift our other purchases at Coylumbridge we met many of the 'elite', out for their pre-dinner strolls. They looked at our mud-stained shoes, tanned faces and heavy pack of provisions with what appeared to be awe and wonderment - and a tinge of admiration too, we hoped! Good progress was made on our road 'home' to Ryvoan and, it being a beautiful night, we thoroughly enjoyed the rest of the ten miles tramp. Walking along pine guarded roads, the wind whispering in the tree-tops, the burn chattering by our side, we remarked on how one could adapt and settle to such solitude, especially after our boisterous camp life of the previous three days.

Soon the stream gave way to Loch Morlich again, still processing its abundance of fine sand - on then, past Glenmore Lodge, lovely little Lochan Uaine and so to Ryvoan. We were both tired, a different kind of fatigue compared to the day before, but a cold tub, rub down and supper of bread, butter, jam and biscuits revived us somewhat. Preparing for my bed, I see JJ firmly installed before the huge log fire, dreaming up fine phrases for his diary and my thoughts turn to the morrow and Deeside. It's raining slightly now - hope it's fair for tomorrow's trek.

And were we thankful! And we blessed our companions in misery for their shed.