Top o'the Tarf

If Scotty could beam me up and drop me anywhere on the surface of the planet I think I would choose the Nanda Devi sanctuary. I've always liked the idea of inaccessible places hidden round the back of mountains. But back in my own realisable world, one place that has always tantalised me is the top of the river Tarf. I'd looked down on it from Carn a' Chlamain. I'd even mountain-biked and walked as far up as the Tarf Hotel. This only whetted my appetite.

Then it struck me that there was one obvious way I could include the top of the Tarf into my plan of doing a Munro round by non-guide book routes. Yes, An Sgarsoch and Carn an Fhidleir from the south…

Now, you'll all remember that the Scottish summer of 2012 was basically called March. We arrived in Blair Athol at the back end of the month, but with the weather still set to hold for a day or so. Bikes off the back of the van, then, and up to Gilbert's Bridge, where we crossed the river and locked up the bikes. Just half a mile further up the glen, and at the end of the forestry we headed straight up hill. The views soon opened out.

If you were wondering what that bluey haze was in that last photo, here is the source of it. Stubble burning. Can you smell it?

In the left of that image is Beinn Mheadhonach - a possibility for the return leg of the journey. Up we went, over Elrig and Beinn a' Chait, to Beinn Dearg. No real track for most of the way, but not too bad. Oh, not so easy for small dogs, Sadie reminds me.

And so to our first view of Shangri-La.

When I first started coming up to Scotland I was only interested in jaggy western peaks. I'd have laughed at the suggestion that one day I would find this kind of landscape addictive. But hey-ho, times change, and so do we.

We crossed over the Tarf, and made our way downstream to its confluence with the Glas Feith Mhor. It can be odd, when you've visualised a place from the map, and dreamed about being there, to actually arrive. Let's face it, the reality is always weather dependent, but in this case what more could we have asked for? Meadows of Himalayan poppies, herds of bharal, perhaps a glimpse of Changabang? No, we are where we are, and this was perfection.

The following morning the weather hadn't actually broken, but it was telling us that we were back in the real world. Still, off we headed up Carn an Fhidleir. The campy spot is down there on the left. Again, the going was trackless, but not so bad. What was that Sadie? Right, thanks for that, but I think they heard you the first time.

As you can see, reality was definitely back with us on Carn Fhidleir…

A photo which, now I come to look at it, begs one question: where on earth was the dog? C looks like she's holding her but… perhaps she'd been beamed up. Well, wherever she'd got to, she was back with us by the time we reached An Sgarsoch - though she doesn't look entirely happy about it…

Then back the same way. Not weather to linger, so we were back at the tent for lunch. What next? Ah yes, a nap. Well, at our age… Anyway, by mid-afternoon the weather had cleared again, and we went for a wander down the glen.

And on the way back I crossed over the Tarf to take this photograph of one of our best-ever wild camp spots. Recommended.

One of the bizarre things about the Tarf is its course. Half a mile upstream from where we were camped, there was a rise of only about ten metres to the watershed with the Feith an Lochain, which drains directly down to the Tilt. The following morning we crossed over, and just the other side of the divide is one of the shallowest and flattest of all lochs.

Yes, summer felt as if it was definitely on the way out, and there were mutterings amongst some expedition members about the worth of going up over Beinn Mheadhonach. Alright Sadie, I know it wasn't you - you'd have gone anywhere as long as you were following the rucksac with the food in it. Anyway, straight down Gleann Mhairc it was, over the old bridge…

…and back down to the Tilt. A lovely photo for us, this next one, as we once spent a week down there in Marble Lodge - another place to stay which C and I would recommend.

When we woke up in Blair Athol campsite the following morning, it really did feel as if summer had come and gone - there was an inch of snow on the ground.