Creag Uchdag

Escaped the madness for a wander in the hills south of Loch Tay. It was very damp underfoot, and the snow was very wet. On the way up the Finglen, I passed a few old shielings at the junction of raging streams.

The summit plateau of Creag Uchdag (879m) was punctuated by a trig pillar which was clothed in rime ice; I didn't hang around long in the fresh wind. Unfortunately there was no view from the summit, just a disorienting monochrome fudge which slowed me down, though not enough to need a glance at the compass.

I tried to imagine life in these shielings. I couldn't stop thinking about that scene in the Hollywood version of Rob Roy when Tim Roth has some fun with Jessica Lange. In fine weather I'm sure this would have been a beautiful place to tend the livestock, but today it felt wild and foreboding.