Follow the road sign towards the hidden glen an hour north of Inverness and keep on going for 10 miles, on an intimate single track through mystical birch woodland and past tall verdant moss banks. Below, the River Cannich coils towards the North Sea. The last few miles open up into a wide valley – at the time of writing they are blanketed in a wintry russet veil – with red deer stags and Highland cows lining the verge.
Eventually, you’ll reach the end of the road – literally – where an 11-mile loch stretches to the West. Today it is as flat as a computer screen, with the snow-capped mountains and icy burns mirrored on the water’s surface. Here you get a glimpse of the true wilderness that still exists in the Scottish Highlands. This is the middle of nowhere, where nothing meets everything.
It is a far throw from the hubbub of the previous day: an exploration of the pruned slopes on the Cairngorm Mountains. “If you can ski in Scotland, you can ski anywhere,” goes the saying. And it carries some truth. The slopes are narrow, the snow is a tad iffy, you spend a lot of time with a button lift clenched between your bum cheeks, and there’s a decent chance it’ll be raining. But you’re skiing nevertheless, and with a day’s pass costing just £35, it’s hard to complain – there is, in all seriousness, the chance of some great powder and off-piste runs when the right conditions align.
Sure, it isn’t Verbier, but it’s a sight lot better than a dry slope, and, unlike a trip to Verbier, you won’t have to sell your house to pay for the jaunt. You can also catch the morning flight from London and be clipped in, falling down the mountainside headfirst before lunch. Just don’t go with preconceptions of Val d’Isère Folie Douche-esque raves – what you get is a frigid pint of Tenants as a local band plays tribute to The Proclaimers. On the plus side, rather than Flaming Sambucas, you have some of the world’s finest Scotch to hand.
If it’s après-ski you’re after, sign yourself up to Groove Cairngorm, the UK’s first ski-based festival – in its inaugural year, the stage played host to the likes of Hot Chip and Grandmaster Flash. Just take a woolly hat – apparently Scotland is still yet to receive the memo that spring is supposed to start in March.
But with a wintry nip comes some of the country’s finest displays: the Northern Lights dance regularly in the wide skies above Sutherland; stars pierce the inky darkness with a fierce lustre without the hindrance of urban graffiti; and angry clouds colliding with rich moonlight bring the estuaries to life, as the peep of oystercatchers and honk of geese skeins rattle through the cold air.
No road trip north of the border, however, is complete without the right steed to tick the required boxes: it must be capable of tackling icy mountain roads, offer comfort when covering plenty of ground in a short space of time, and accommodate a heap of winter paraphernalia. We opted for the Range Rover TDV6 Autobiography. It proved a wise choice.
It’s a monster of a car (you truly feel like you own the road), as comfy as a duck-down duvet – whether driving or riding shotgun – and it’s as practical as a Swiss army penknife: massage seats, panoramic sunroof, ambient lighting, stealth mode, split screen tv… It’ll also give you 40 miles to the gallon, which is friendlier on the wallet than you may have expected considering it is the size of Buckingham Palace. Not that this is a real concern, as you’ll need £90,000-plus to park one in your garage.
But as a car for this sort of mixed road trip goes, there are few better machines – if any. And as destinations go, there are few more spectacular countries than Scotland. Set your wanderlust for the North this summer gents – adventure awaits.
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