Highland Heat

Packed up the tent after my summit camp and returned to the glen. Swapped the pack for something lighter and then pedalled up the beautiful track into Coire Dho.

After 7k I dumped the bike in the heather to set off up an old stalker’s path towards the Munro ridge at Sail Chaorainn. Down in the corrie floor I spied the rocks where the Bonnie Prince hid out for three days in July 1746
Onwards over the high ground, the grass was crispy dry after days without rain and deer sheltered in peat hag shadows. Golden Plovers were constant companions on the plateau, pairs calling to each other in the haze. I brushed crane flies off my arms and legs. Two Corbetts and a few hours later, I dropped back to heat of the glen to retrieve the bike. Flat tyre.
Cue expletives. The flies took flight.