Moonwalker - Adventures of a Midnight Mountaineer

THE refuge is hard to spot, a modest construction in the chaos of a boulder-strewn slope high above the wild and lonely confines of Strath Nethy.

El Alamein is a place found only by design or accident: you have to be actively looking for it or you have stumbled way off route. And the fact that it is so far off the beaten track is probably the reason it is still standing.

Most of the other rudimentary shelters in the Cairngorms are long gone, torn down after the Feith Buidhe disaster of November 1971 when six members of a party from a school in Edinburgh – a trainee instructor and five pupils – died during a winter exercise on the plateau.

It was the worst accident in Scottish mountaineering history and it led to huge changes in safety procedures. One of the more controversial decisions was that these rough shelters in the high Cairngorms should be removed as their presence provided a false sense of security to the inexperienced. In wild weather they could be difficult to locate, sometimes invisible under deep snow cover, and the Fatal Accident Inquiry into the tragedy concluded that the existence of the Curran Bothy had caused the party to keep going to try to reach it when otherwise they might have turned back. 

The Curran and the St Valery were subsequently demolished. Since then, Jean’s Hut and the Sinclair Hut have also gone, but El Alamein's isolated and more remote location meant it was seen as less of a magnet for walkers and it was left alone. The positioning was believed to be accidental, a mix-up in map references leading to construction well below the rim of the corrie where it was supposed to have sat. 

The refuge was built in memory of the 51st Highland Division who had fought at El Alamein in 1942, a pivotal battle during the Second World War that raged for 12 days. The division that fought in Egypt had been reformed after being captured at St Valery during the Dunkirk evacuation two years earlier. A stone embedded in one of the walls reads 'El Alamein Refuge 1963' along with the badge of the division. A similar plaque lies at the former site of the St Valery refuge which was situated above the crags at the top end of Loch Avon. It was dismantled in 1975.

The metalwork for the the skeletons of the El Alamein, Curran, St Valery refuges plus the shelter situated at the Fords of Avon were made in workshops at Rosyth then carried to the sites as part of military training exercises.

I have long been fascinated by these shelters and their history, and during a recent ascent of Cairn Gorm to celebrate the second anniversary of octogenarian Nick Gardner's amazing Munros completion I took advantage of the stunning conditions to go in search of El Alamein. I had the grid references but even when I reached the col, it was impossible to spot the refuge amongst the boulder field down below from this height. I had been told there was a line of cairns marking the way further down but if they did exist, they have long ago been absorbed into the general rock chaos.

Despite its survival, El Alamein wouldn't offer much shelter from the storm these days: the rear wall has partly collapsed and is exposed to the elements and part of the roof is gone, but I was just delighted to see this piece of history still standing proud and the location is simply sensational. It's a perfect spot to find a little peace and solitude in stark contrast to the busy summit area and ski apparatus on the other side of Cairn Gorm. 

Sitting alone under a blue sky and brilliant sun with a long line of sight all the way up rugged Strath Nethy and across to the muscular presence of Bynack More, I did wonder how many take the time to visit this remote spot, or are even aware of it. In these conditions, it would easy to be lulled into a false of security. When the winds are howling and the snow driving through, this could feel a desolate and even dangerous place.

That reality was reinforced a few weeks later as we made our way out of Strath Nethy after a long circuit from Glen More via the shoulder of Bynack More in fierce winds that prohibited any thoughts of going higher. We were on the last leg, the seemingly never-ending boggy flats where the valley widens, when I glanced over to the sweeping slopes on the left. Hidden somewhere up there in those seams of boulder confusion lay El Alamein.

In our leg-weary state, it seemed inconceivable that anyone would consider this as a more tempting approach to Cairn Gorm unless they were specifically aiming for the refuge. Masochists only need apply.