Do you know that feeling when you’re on the way to some destination but then inadvertently stumble upon something that you did not expect and the experience leaves you utterly awestruck? Well, I do. Cue in Buachaille Etive Mòr, a Munro in the Scottish Highlands. Even though Buachaille is almost iconic, one of the most shown Scottish Munros on postcards, unless you plan to drive through this area towards Glencoe, it’s almost easy to miss. If it didn’t sit just alongside the A82, we would have missed it. The curved ridge is close to 5 miles (8 km) in length, and what got me was its scale and its majestic appearance. We arrived here out of season, our car was the only one on the road as far as the eye could see. So we turned off the engine to let the hushed stillness wash over us and just stood there, gawking. Buachaille is almost begging to be hiked, and by begging I mean that it emits a quiet, nagging whisper that leaves you longing and prompts you to come back in full trekking mode.
In a country that has notoriously harsh weather up in the Highlands, an entire week of sunshine is an ever unpredictable and welcomed bliss. Yet, all I could think of was how exquisite this place would be in the wintertime in its almost monochrome beauty, engulfed in fog, with a snow cap, its scarce flora covered in hoarfrost. It’s been months since we’ve been there but as winter approaches, I grew more restless. It’s only an hour flight and 2 hours driving away. (long sigh)