Loch Avon

As we close the old year I'll conclude the series on the walking that I did in Scotland in the summer of 2005. 

Thursday 28th July 2005 

The weather was probably even worse for this walk than it had been for my walk the previous day up Breariach with rain for most of the morning and through until about three o'clock, but I still managed to have a good, long walk in the mountains. I set off before nine again, through the Ryvoan Gap just as I had two days before, and veered off from my former route at the site of the Bynack Stable to head up Strath Nethy. This is a long narrow path that seemed to take e forever as it slowly meanders its way up the valley, with rain pouring down as I headed all the way up the valley until eventually my perseverance paid off and I climbed through the clouds to reach the Saddle. Passing through I descended to the spectacular Loch Avon, made perhaps even more special by the low cloud, with the huge, ominous-looking crags at the head of the loch peering through gaps in the clouds. Slowly I made my way along the shore towards the western end, constantly gazing at the impressive rock forms that overlook this end of the loch. I had my lunch in the shelter of a huge stone (perhaps the appropriately named Shelter Stone?), and while the rain poured down the midges had their way with me.

After lunch I decided that an ascent of Beinn Mheadhoin would have been a waste of energy - there wasn't the time and I just couldn't be bothered. I was too tired to make the effort after all the walking that I'd been doing during the previous ten days, so instead I started to head back to Glenmore. The most direct route is to go up and over the Cairngorm plateau so I headed off along a footpath up the side of the cliffs beside the smallest of the three streams that flow down to feed Loch Avon. After a lot of careful climbing in the wet conditions I reached Coire Domhain on the Cairngorm plateau and crossed the marshy ground to reach the northern edge near Cairn Lochan looking out over Coire na t-Sneachda. The rain had just stopped at this point with the clouds lifting sufficiently to afford me with a tremendous view towards Glenmore and Loch Morlich, and my route was clear. Any thought of going around or over Cairn Lochan and down my route of two days earlier disappeared; instead I descended the steep walls into the corrie and across the boulder field to join a manufactured path that took me to the Coire Cas car park. This was an enjoyable end to the day with a relaxing stroll to the ski centre and along the Allt Mhor trail back to Glenmore. I may not have climbed a Munro, but this was still a long walk in the mountains in bad weather; after all, the Cairngorm plateau is higher than any mountain in England or Wales, and most of the mountains in Scotland as well. I should not be ashamed to have this walk end my holiday in Scotland.

Braeriach

The Scottish walking holiday of 2005 continues:

Wednesday 27th July 2005 

The weather for this walk was not as good as I had enjoyed during my previous walks: it was overcast and drizzly, but that didn’t stop me going out for a potentially very long walk over the third highest mountain in Britain. I set off walking alongside the Allt Mòr burn and took the path that crosses the heather moorland in front of the Cairngorm corries, through the Chalamain Gap and into the Lairig Ghru. That sentence may have been easy to write, but it took me ages to complete due to a lack of energy that was preventing me from walking very quickly (and besides, the heavily, over-engineered footpaths were depressing me). After crossing the Allt Druidh, at the foot of the awe-inspiring wedge through the mountains that is the Lairig Ghru, I started my slow ascent up the ridge opposite. With drizzly rain continuing off and on all day, the cloud base crept closer and closer to me with every step. Eventually I arrived at a wide grassy plain, which my map declared, despite my optimism, was not the Munro, but merely a top, Sròn na Lairige. With the aid of my compass I passed over the plateau and resumed my climb in the clouds, and through increasingly heavy rain, up to a cliff edge and along it to the summit of Braeriach, the third highest mountain in Britain.

[Picture taken in 2009 from the summit of Braeriach of the scene across Allt Garbh Choire towards Cairn Toul] 

There I had my lunch and contemplated the situation: it was cloudy and it was chucking it down with rain. Eventually I decided that a walk over the plateau around the huge corries of An Garbh Coire to Cairn Toul in this weather would be crazy, and besides, it had taken me five hours just to get to this point; I could only imagine how long it would take me to get to Cairn Toul before I had to turn around and come all the way back. With my decision made I set off back down the hill secure in the knowledge that at least I had climbed one Munro on this walk. I returned down the ridge over Sròn na Lairige eventually arriving back down at the northern end of the Lairig Ghru where I decided that I would take a different route back to the youth hostel. Rather than climbing into the Chalamain Gap again, I followed the path beside the Allt Druidh all the way down into the Rothiemurchus woods where I had a very pleasant woodland walk slowly making my way towards Loch Morlich, circling around the loch to return to Glenmore. For a walk in such poor weather this was fabulous, and gave me a great sense of achievement on reaching the summit. The fact that I went no further did nothing to ruin the walk for me.

Cairn Gorm and Ben Macdui

Tuesday 26th July 2005 

After a day's rest during which I travelled from Glen Nevis, near Fort William, to Glenmore, near Aviemore (and luckily it was in poor weather) I set off bright and early in the morning for a full day's walk in the Cairngorm Mountains. After a couple of days on the dramatic rocky ridges of the Mamores, the sight from the youth hostel of rolling heather-clad hills filled me with dismay, fortunately they were merely the foothills. For this walk, I started by following Ralph Storer's route number 84 from his book, "100 Best Routes on Scottish Mountains", through the woods around Glenmore along easy, heavily constructed paths, and through the Pass of Ryvoan beside the secluded lake of An Lochan Uaine into the bleak, heather-clad moorland of Strath Nethy. After crossing the River Nethy I climbed onto the ridge beyond, leaving the path to climb over Bynack More, my first Munro of the day, and it wasn't even midday yet! The cloudy start to the day slowly dispersed to reveal a glorious summer's day with every peak on the Cairngorm Plateau free of clouds. 

From the top of Bynack More I headed across a grassy plain and over A'Choinneach, which I was surprised to learn used to be a Munro, which is astonishing for a mere grassy hillock. I believe if you look at the list of mountains that have been stripped of Munro status an inordinate number will be from the Cairngorm area. After passing over the top I began descending wonderfully rocky terrain to the Saddle where amazing views could be seen of Loch Avon and the huge crags that overlook the head of the loch. This was such an awe-inspiring sight that I made a point of having a closer look later in the week. From the Saddle I slowly made my way up the steep, almost pathless, eastern slopes of Cairn Gorm, and after an age reached the rocky summit. The sight, when I finally reached the summit, of rock-topped mountains aplenty was just amazing and confirmed that my despair at the start of the day was unjustified.

While eating my lunch sitting by the weather station at the summit of Cairn Gorm I looked out over breath-taking scenery that includes the cliffs that overlook Loch Avon and across to Ben Macdui, the second highest mountain in Britain, which was clear of clouds. Since it was still early I decided to head towards Ben Macdui in case later in the week, when I had planned on going up Ben Macdui, it would be too cloudy. So setting off from Cairn Gorm I walked around the top of Coire an t-Sneachda and up to the top of Cairn Lochan before heading south to join the path across a bleak, rocky mars-scape to the top of Ben Macdui. I was on the second highest mountain in Britain in brilliant weather with clear views all around me and there was just a middle-aged couple at the summit with me. This is in stark contrast to Ben Nevis, which I'm sure at the same time would have had dozens of people at its summit. I always find it ridiculous how many people go up Ben Nevis, Scafell Pike and Snowdon when there are many other mountains all around them, many of which are much more interesting than those three. 

Turning around I headed back towards Cairn Lochan, and passing to the west of it, I headed down the ridge, Fiacaill an Leth-Choin. When I reached the heather-clad moorland at the foot of the Cairngorm corries I veered off the path towards the young Allt Mór following the stream as it became a river all the way into Glen More and back to the hostel. With hindsight I shouldn’t have left the path to the Ski Centre but I had an overpowering desire to avoid the ruinous debris of the ski slopes at all costs, even if it meant wading through knee-deep, boggy heather. Despite the wet end, this was a fabulous walk over some of the greatest mountains in Scotland in fabulous weather that was sadly not to last.

The Central Mamores

More from my holiday of 2005 walking in Scotland 

Sunday 24th July 2005 

This was another brilliant day's walk in excellent weather among the Mamores of Glen Nevis. The cloudy start to the day had looked ominous, but thankfully the clouds soon rose above the summits to become another bright sunny day. As it was a Sunday there were no buses to take me down Glen Nevis so I had to walk all the way there, this time using the tracks in Nevis Forest to avoid the traffic on the road. The walk from Ralph Storer's book, "100 Best Routes of Scottish Mountains" that was the inspiration for this walk was route number 22, but I altered his plan significantly. Storer started the walk by going up Sgurr a'Mhaim, but since I did that the day before I decided that a change of plan was in order. On leaving the wood I took a path near to the lower falls, following the river and keeping to the southern bank even when the going became rough and I had to clamber over cliffs on the southern side of the narrow gorge, Eas an Tuill. It would, of course, have been infinitely more sensible to use the excellent path on the northern bank, but that was far too sensible and boring! Although it was nerve-wracking at times it was also tremendous fun, especially when I was standing on the cliff face looking down into the gorge and at the people on the footpath who were looking up at me. It made me feel so daring!

[Picture taken from http://www.ga-highland-walks.co.uk/blog/]
Once I was through the gorge I passed the spectacular waterfall of An Steall, in its picturesque alpine meadow setting, and followed a footpath that zigzags up Coire Chadha Chaoruinn to the top of An Gearanach, my first Munro of the day. There now followed a deliciously narrow ridge walk over An Garbhanach, which was every bit as fun as I expected. A sharp drop and a climb led me to a very proper looking hill called Stob Coire a'Chàirn, which apparently is a Munro despite not appearing to me to have enough re-ascent, which just shows what I know! A short ridge walk brought me to the start of a stiff climb up the steep rocky northern face of An Bodach. After a look around the summit I reflected that this was my third Munro of the day and sadly my last in the Mamores. As I descended the western ridge I looked around me at the fantastic rocky scenery and wished that I didn’t have to leave. The Mamores had provided me with some very enjoyable walking over the weekend and I now had just one hill, a Munro top, Sgurr an Iubhair, to go. I had enjoyed some truly great walking in the area and I was sorry to leave it. I resolved that I would have to return so that I could finish off the eastern Mamores that I had wasn't able to visit during this weekend; it'll feel like coming to see a friend.

After descending the last hill, Sgurr an Iubhair, I took the path down that Storer would have had me take the day before, into Coire a'Mhusgain. The time was now much later than it had been the day before when I had been at this point so it was clear that I was time to leave these lovely hills. I followed the interesting path as it weaves all the way down the narrow valley finally returning to the bus stop in Glen Nevis, but once again I was unable to catch a bus so an hour's walk back to the youth hostel was necessary in the hot, early evening sun. The next day I travelled to Aviemore, to spend some time in my favourite city of them all, Inverness, on the way to the Cairngorm Youth Hostel.

The Western Mamores

Saturday 23rd July 2005 

The weather for this walk was brilliant again, but I could tell it wasn’t going to last as it was already beginning to cloud up, although that just served to cool the temperature at the hottest part of the day. The weather combined with the tremendous terrain provided me with a thoroughly enjoyable and memorable day's walk. This was one of those days in the hills that you remember with fondness for many years and make me say to myself, "This is why I do this." I still have fond memories of the Mamores five years later and I have returned several times over the years to try and recapture the magic of this weekend spent on the Mamores in 2005. 

On the morning of this walk I caught a bus from the youth hostel to its terminus at the lower falls in Glen Nevis, where I immediately started to follow a signposted 'Forest Walk'. I was actually following Ralph Storer's route number 21 (from "100 Best Routes on Scottish Mountains") on this walk, which should have taken me onto a ridge via a 'hilltop seat'. However, no such path to a seat could be found and I ended up following the stream, Allt a' Choire Dheirg, on a clear, though occasionally muddy, path to a boundary fence. I was then faced with a very steep climb up the hill beside the fence under a blazing sun; the clear path was my only assurance that I was following a path that many had previously followed. In fact, there were a few people further up the hill on my path, but a quick look on the internet reveals what is probably an easier route beside the Allt a'Choire Riabhach, which gains the ridge lower down. Ralph Storer's actual path is probably non-existent and has been for years.

When I finally reached the top of the ridge I squeezed through a gap in the fence and headed up the ridge on an increasingly rocky path to my first Munro of the day: Mullach nan Coirean. A short diversion took me across to the nearby top of Meall a'Chaorainn and back, which this was a pleasant trip that required little effort. Bypassing the summit of Mullach nan Coirean on my return, I headed off along the eastern ridge towards Stob Bàn, passing over various minor tops on the way and admiring the stunning scenery. A white stony path brought me up to my second Munro where I had my lunch (and also provided the midges with theirs!). Storer's route was now almost downhill all the way, despite it being only lunch time, so I decided to abandon Storer once I was down the steep, rocky descent off Stob Bàn (a great path, but very tricky in descent, though it would also have been quite difficult in ascent. I'm glad I didn't go up that way!). 

Passing the lake, Lochan Coire nam Miseach, below Sgorr an Iubhair, I headed up a steep grassy slope to the bealach between the aforementioned and Stob a' Choire Mhail. Passing over the latter I began to cross the narrow 'Devil's Ridge', which, despite being very high, provided me with no problems in this weather (almost no wind) so I could simply walk along the top of the ridge except for at one small crevice in the rocks that seemed too far for me to dare jumping over. A path exists that bypasses this, but instead I clambered down on one side of the gap and then climbed up on the other side. My nerve may have failed to allow me to jump the gap, but I'll be blowed if I was going to miss any part of the top of the ridge! With a short scramble down at the end I completed the narrow ridge that had been worrying me for ages, but which turned out to be alot easier than Crib Goch, and so began the climb up to my third Munro of the day: Sgurr a'Mhàim. 

After a short rest at the top to admire the views down Glen Nevis, and across to Ben Nevis, I began a most enjoyable descent over white quartzite stones down its western slopes often sliding several feet with every step. It reminded me of how Wainwright used to describe Dorehead Screes in the Lake District before it lost all its stones (!); this wasn't as steep, but it was still a very enjoyable way to descend several hundred feet. All that now remained was for a long zigzagging descent down the steep grassy slope back to the bus stop. Unfortunately when I eventually I got to the bus stop I found that I had missed the bus by less than ten minutes, but the three mile walk back to the youth hostel failed to dampen what had been a very enjoyable day over some thoroughly exciting terrain. The walk and the terrain reminded me of the best sort of walking imaginable, as I have previously experienced in the Lake District; this was ridge walking, par excellence.

Beinn Dorain & Beinn an Dothaidh

More from my holiday in 2005 spent walking in Scotland. 

Friday 22nd July 2005 

The weather for this holiday was now stunning and it was set to stay like that for several days which suited me! On this day I left Crianlarich, with I must admit more than a little regret as I had enjoyed my time there; it is a good, quiet hostel without too many people, and with some great walking in the area. By the end of the day I was in the Glen Nevis Hostel, at the foot of Ben Nevis, which is anything but quiet! Before getting there I took a train to Bridge of Orchy and began to climb a steep, sometimes muddy path through the awesome surrounds of Coire an Dothaidh onto the bealach between the two mountains, following Ralph Storer's route number nine from his seminal book, "100 Best Routes on Scottish Mountains". Turning right I headed towards Beinn Dorain, rejecting a path that veers to the right half way up the gentle slope, staying on top of the ridge passing over a false summit until eventually I reached the true summit where extensive, impressive views could be seen around all the area. 

After lunch, both for me and the midges (they always find the bit that I miss with insect repellent – in this case on my forehead, under my hat!), I headed south off the peak seemingly into a very quick descent (the sort that ends with a splat at the bottom!), but the path quickly turned 180° to cling to the cliff edge below the summit across the western slopes of the mountain. The narrow, precipitous, and thoroughly enjoyable, path commanded breath-taking views of the valley below that included a train that was conveniently passing by at that time. This turned out to be the path that I had rejected earlier thinking that it couldn’t have gone to the summit. Now in descent I was less weary than during the ascent so I was able to enjoy the path and appreciate the extensive views on this alternative return route.

On returning to the bealach I began to ascend my second Munro of the day across the wide, pathless, grassy slopes. Beinn an Dothaidh is a triple-topped mountain, all of which are on its northern edge with the southern side sloping down to the bealach with Beinn Dorain. I decided to head for the western top first, aiming for a small ridge that juts out from that point. Once this was gained I had a pleasurable stroll along the short ridge to the cairn on the north-western corner of the mountain. The views across Rannoch Moor were awe-inspiring and continued as I strolled along the top of the mountain to the central peak, which is also the highest. When I got to the cairn on the eastern top I paused to take in the view, feeling both supreme satisfaction and a great reluctance to the leave the mountain. The weather was hot, the skies were clear and from my vantage point I could look out across both mountains. It was a glorious sight and reminded me why it was that I walk up mountains.

But unfortunately I couldn't stay up there. I had already missed the train, but I'd planned on catching a bus instead, so with the clock ticking I headed down the grassy (and on its eastern side somewhat boggy) slopes to the bealach. I then descended the path through the corrie back to Bridge of Orchy where I had ten minutes to spare before the bus was due (long enough for a quick drink at the hotel!). The bus went through Glen Coe, which let me see this magical valley for the first time and I was absolutely gobsmacked with the scenery that I could see with the Three Sisters simply taking my breath away. I fell in love with the area instantly and was heart-broken when the bus moved on. From then on I knew where I would be going the following year!

The Glen Falloch Group

Here follows the report on my third walk in Scotland during my holiday of 2005. 

Thursday 21st July 2005 

I had a much better walk on this day than on Ben More the day before. I had clearer weather, a weaker wind and a rising cloud level, but it was still a very long and challenging day. I walked south of Crianlarich down the A82 for just over a mile to a car park on the edge of the Crianlarich forest and headed up a track beside the River Falloch. I was supposed to be following Ralph Storer's route number five (from his book, "100 Best Routes on Scottish Mountains") up Srón Gharbh but the good track at the bottom of the valley seemed far more appealing to me than the steep, pathless climb up the hill, so I decided to stay beside the river. But, of course, the track soon came to an end and was replaced by a boggy and indistinct path that ran up into Coire Earb, at the head of the valley. Soldiering on I made my way to the end of the valley and began to climb a ridge up to the eastern peak of Beinn a' Chroin. At one point I had a bit of difficulty, not with the terrain, but with me: I was exhausted and totally worn out. I don't know if I'd not been eating enough but I felt a pain in my stomach and an inability to go any further. I rested for a while and had something to eat before trying to continue climbing up the hill. 

Gradually the pain and weariness left me and I reached the summit of Beinn a' Chroin, which has many tops and the eastern one that I had first reached was, according to Ralph Storer's book, the true summit. He would have had me walk all the way up to Beinn a' Chroin from Bealach Buidhe and then all the way back along the whole ridge and down to the bealach. My route, although very muddy, removed this necessity and let me do the whole ridge in one go. A point should be made about the various tops on Beinn a' Chroin: although most sources that I had looked at before doing this walk gave the eastern peak as being the highest, the Harvey Map that I was using marked the middle peak of five as being the highest. When I looked this up after the walk I discovered that Harvey was right, the eastern peak has been demoted and the new summit is indeed the one on the western ridge (at 388 186). There has been a re-survey of the tops which moved the actual summit away from its previous location, but as far as I could tell the actual Munro on Beinn a' Chroin does not have a cairn, despite the fact that all the others do! (However reports suggest that it does have a cairn, so maybe I was mistaken there.)

I walked over each of the peaks just to make sure that I'd bagged the lot then began my descent to Bealach Buidhe weaving around the crags and crisscrossing down the steep rocky slope. After crossing the grassy col I made my ascent of An Caisteal up a fun and interesting path up the steep rocky ridge. Unfortunately I was now well into the clouds that still lingered at the top of this almost one thousand metre mountain. I walked past the summit cairn(s) along the rocky ridge, to beyond the cairn at the northern top at the actual castle-like part of the ridge that gives the Munro its name, before returning back along the ridge. After passing the summit, and before descending very far back down to Bealach Buidhe, I veered off to the right down steep grassy slopes to the bealach with Beinn Chabhair. The ascent of this third Munro of the day required a little thought as there is no path and I had to pick my own way through the complex terrain of the eastern slopes. Eventually, and with more than a little relief, I reached the top and bagged my third Munro of the day, my seventh in three days.

[The Glen Falloch Group seen from the neighbouring mountain of Cruach Ardrain]

From the summit I headed north veering west along a clear path on the narrow summit ridge that was a joy to travel along. Call me lazy but I do like a good path to walk along; if there is no path to follow I have to think about picking out a route instead of just enjoying the walk and the views. I always enjoy walking a path that weaves around complex, rocky terrain and the top of Beinn Chabhair contains just such a path, as does the southern approach to An Caisteal. The path I was following descended to reveal an astonishingly complex terrain that reminded me of the early part of my walk the day before. Thankfully this time I was descending instead of ascending so I was able to zoom over the grassy knolls, now well into my second wind. I followed a faint path around the northern slopes of Meall nan Tarmachan and crossed Garbh Bhealach veering to the south of Stob Creag an Fhithach to head for Lochain a'Caisteal. This is a picturesque mountain lake where a high cliff overlooking the lake and affords stunning views along Glen Falloch below.

After passing around the lake I began to descend the steep hillside making my own way down the hill through the long grass. Coming down off that hill was actually quite fun, as I started off in the hills and just walked straight down to the bottom of the valley; from one world to another. At the bottom of Glen Falloch is the West Highland Way, which provided me with an easy route back to Crianlarich. This proved to be rather nostalgic for me as I was reliving my walk of the year before along the West Highland Way, but now in much better weather. The year before it was wet, but by the time I was walking along the trail now it was early evening and the weather had cleared to provide me with a wonderfully sunny and warm end to the day, so it was under a hot, evening sun that I returned to the youth hostel at 7.15 pm after another long, tiring day, but after a much more enjoyable one than the day before.

Ben More and Stob Binnein

More from my holiday of 2005 in Scotland:

Wednesday 20th July 2005 

This was a gruelling walk and a real test of my powers of endurance with a start to finish time of ten hours over some very demanding terrain, but also with prolonged sections of road walking. I was following Ralph Storer's route number seven from his "100 Best Routes on Scottish Mountains", which starts from a car park on the A85 five miles from Crianlarich, so first thing in the morning I was walking along a busy A road for five miles to the Coire Chaorach car park. This was often scary, especially on the narrower bends, so it was with considerable relief that I finally reached a service road just before the car park where I headed off up the track into a forest. I had forgotten to read Storer's book before doing this walk and hadn't even taken it with me that day, so as I made my way through the forest I was relying solely on my map. Instead of staying on the western side of the burn I tried to cross the river and promptly got my feet wet, but that was just the beginning. I then tried to follow a route through a clearing beside the river that was very muddy and rough under foot, and my reward for all this perseverance was to be confronted by a fence. With resignation I followed the fence steeply up the hillside, sometimes using the fence itself to help me over the boggy sections until eventually I reached the corner of the forest and I still had a fence in my way, but one quick climb and I was onto the hills. Now my problems really started. 

Once onto the top of the wide ridge I started making my way around the corrie passing over Caisteal Corrach and heading towards Leacann Riabhach, but due to strong winds and a complex terrain my progress was frustratingly slow and very tiring. The hills ahead of me always looked a long way off and I never seemed to get any closer to them, but eventually I arrived on Stob Creagach and, after crossing Bealach na Frithe, I climbed up to Meall na Dige. By now I was well into the clouds and the bright, sunny morning was a distant memory as I headed across a wind-swept col towards Stob Coire an Lochain. I very quickly lost the main path and started to follow a track, in desperation, that took me round the side of the hill without gaining any height. When I realised my mistake I started to climb straight up the steep south-eastern side of the hill; I have an abiding memory of clinging to the side of the cliff-like slope while furious winds battered around me. Slowly I crawled up the grassy, cliff face and onto the top, Stob Coire an Lochain, where I was hit by the strongest winds I have ever encountered on a mountain top; it was so strong I couldn't even stand up. Crouching to the floor I made my way along the clear path across the top of the ridge a short distance to the summit cairn where I collapsed behind it. 

After recovering from my exertions I made my way relatively easily along the path to the Munro, Stob Binnein, with the wind quickly dying down as I progressed. For most of my walk there had been little or no path to follow, but now I was blessed with a clear and easy path that finally meant this was becoming an enjoyable walk. After Stob Binnein I began the long descent to Bealach-eadar-dha Bheinn and then the equally long ascent to the top of Ben More, the highest hill in the area. Because of my slow progress during the day I didn't reach the top of Ben More until almost 5 pm from where I had a long, steep descent down grassy slopes back down to the road. Initially, a clear, zigzagging path took me down the hill but when the path petered out I had to find my own way until I came to a Land Rover track that leads to Benmore Farm and the three quarters of an hour road walking that took me all the way back to Crianlarich. This was a very exhausting and demanding day in very tough weather conditions, but I did manage to complete it. With the hindsight of a few more years experience of hillwalking I think I would have enjoyed this walk better if it had been done in the opposite direction. The good weather in the morning would have been experienced at the top of the Munros and, more importantly, the eastern side of the corrie would have been much more pleasurable as a long descent. Most people, however, access these mountains from the south, hence the good path over Stob Coire an Lochain.

Cruach Ardrain & Beinn Tulaichean

With no new walks available I thought I’d post my account of a wonderful holiday I had in Scotland, which was originally written in 2005. I am starting with a walk in the Crianlarich Hills where I experienced, perhaps for the first time, the glories of Highland walking with ferocious weather (probably the worst I’d experienced up to that point), difficulties in navigation, and some truly spectacular mountain locations.

Tuesday 19th July 2005 

I was in Scotland to do some walking in the Southern Highlands and apart from the West Highland Way, which I did last year, I had not really done any walking in Scotland before and I found it very different to walking elsewhere in the country. It's a lot bigger and a lot less crowded; I didn't see anyone all day, but that could have been because of the weather. I was in an indecisive mood about where to walk on this day; the bad weather was putting me off walking up a big mountain, so in the end I decided to head off into the hills directly behind the hostel that I was staying at thinking that they would be easier. I was staying at the Crianlarich Youth Hostel, which is next door to the railway station on the West Highland Line from Glasgow to Fort William. The location was very handy for me which was better than I would get later in the holiday. Crianlarich is a small community on the junction of the A85 and A82 trunk roads served by a small general store, which I used for all my culinary needs despite its slightly higher than town-centre superstore prices.

Right behind the youth hostel is a Community Woodland and I started the walk by climbing through that and into the forest beyond. I was following the instructions given by Ralph Storer in his book "100 Best Routes on Scottish Mountains", specifically route number six. Storer's instructions took me along forest roads until I came to an old path beside metal and wooden posts, which Storer describes as "execrable" and suggested that you avoid it as much as possible. I must have forgotten his advice because I walked up the whole boggy, water-logged length of it, even though Harvey maps mark this route as marshy ground. Therefore, it was with considerable relief that I eventually reached the tree line and climbed onto the open hillside to my first goal, which has the very un-Scottish sounding name of Grey Height. This was merely the start of the ridge around the head of a valley (or corrie as they say in Scotland), Coire Ardrain, so I continued the climb up the ridge to Meall Dhamh before beginning the ascent of the Munro, Cruach Ardrain (a Munro is a Scottish mountain above three thousand feet high). The path I was following didn't go straight up the mountain, but instead took me across the steep western slopes of the mountain and eventually deposited me at the southern end. 

This suited me fine as I headed away from Cruach Ardrain down the hill towards another smaller Munro called Beinn Tulaichean. As I approached the summit the weather threw everything it had at me: there was biting rain and extremely strong winds that made it difficult to walk. In desperation I sought some shelter against a rocky outcrop and despaired of the conditions, and anything else I could think of; eventually I poked my head up and gingerly made my way to the summit cairn, which turned out to be surprisingly close to where I had been sheltering. Returning to my shelter I had lunch while gazing upon the glorious views that were miraculously now revealed to me as the weather cleared in the lee of the hill affording me with tremendous views across to Loch Voil. Setting off again I headed back up to the top of Cruach Ardrain, once again battling against the winds that were trying to stop me as I crossed the col between the two Munros, this time to little effect. Climbing up Cruach Ardrain from the south, I followed a path to the south-westerly summit cairn and in the wind, rain and low cloud I could have easily thought that I was at the top of the Munro, but having been warned by Ralph Storer I descended the dip beyond and found a sharp rise that took me up to another summit cairn, this time the true summit of the Munro. 

The continuation of the walk was to descend steeply down the path beyond the summit to what Storer calls a bealach (the Scottish name for a col or saddle) and then up to Stob Garbh. At this point I lost the path and had to find my own way around the rock faces onto the top. My compass was heavily used at this point as I found my own way along the top of the ridge to the summit cairn. Stob Garbh apparently used to be a Munro but was subsequently demoted for having too small a re-ascent (or possibly due to its proximity to Cruach Ardrain) making my tally for the day just two Munros and a Munro top. Heading off in the right direction I discovered a path and continued along the ridge over Stob Coire Buidhe towards Crianlarich until my progress was halted by a fence that Storer makes no mention of even though it is marked on a map. Turning to my left I tried to find a stile over it, but I could find none so when I came to a t-junction of fences I decided that the only way I would be able to get down was to climb over the fence. Descending the steep grass slopes beyond I now had no path and no idea where the path I had been following had gone. When I approached the crag, Creag na h-Iolaine, I discovered a steep, bracken-covered slope that I could not easily get down and led me to start thinking that perhaps crossing the fence had not been such a good idea! With considerable difficulty I descended the steep slope through the bracken without knowing where I was putting my feet until eventually I reached the tree-line.

Ralph Storer's instructions hadn't said that the descent would be this difficult! He had said that there was a "clear" firebreak, but I could see none even when I made my way to where I thought the map indicated there was a firebreak, but none could be found. Instead I had to try and descend the hillside under the trees, weaving around the trunks, which was relatively clear beneath the dense conifers. By following a stream down I made my way to a forest road, and ironically a firebreak appeared on my left just before I reached the road. After an energetic hour spent trying to get past fence, cliff, bracken and trees I slowly made my way along the forest road back to where I had started and passing once more through the Community Woodland I returned to the youth hostel. All in all, this was a good, enjoyable walk, even if the weather was a little rough at times, but I had coped, which was another victory for me over bad weather. The problems at the end of the walk are best forgotten as being beyond my control, unless they are the norm for Scotland...

Pickering to Scarborough

Saturday 4th September 2010 

After my exhaustion following the previous day's walk I was not sure what I would do on the last day of my holiday, and in the end I don’t think I made the right decision. I considered going back along the Cleveland Way to visit Rievaulx Abbey, and I wish I had as I’m sure it’s a wonderful abbey to visit. I also considered catching a bus to Pickering and spending the day on the North Yorkshire Moors Railway, which I’m sure I would have really enjoyed, if I had done that. I even considered going all the way to Scarborough on the bus and spending the day in the seaside resort that had so depressed me when I arrived in the area at the beginning of the week. In the end I did the walk that I’d originally planned to do on this day, but that turned out to be over-ambitious. I was going to walk all the way into Scarborough, but first I caught a bus from the charming market town of Helmsley, where I had been staying, to the bustling town of Pickering. Instead of riding on the steam train I set off up the valley of Newton Dale and onto the upland plain, and boring farmland, of Blansby Park. After I had eventually crossed the fields I entered a delightful wood and descended steeply back down into the quiet, tranquil valley of Newton Dale. After crossing the railway line I climbed back out of the valley and crossed a road to enter Dalby Forest. Upon entering the wood I followed an endless succession of paths and forestry tracks that slowly took me across the large wood. At the other end I passed through Givendale Head Farm and joined the Tabular Hills Walk. This walk forms a link between Helmsley and Scarborough but at forty-eight miles it is far too long for a single day's walk, though as it turned out even my shortened version wasn't short enough. While having lunch between Dalby Forest and Wykeham Forest I realised that if I carried on as at this rate I wasn't going to reach Scarborough in time for the train. Therefore, near Cockmoor Hall, I abandoned my route and walked along the first road I got to all the way to the village of Snainton where I caught a bus to Scarborough. 

The weather may have been brilliant, but this was not a good walk and made this a disappointing end to a good week in the North York Moors. I enjoyed the walks earlier in the week beside the coast and across the moors, but since leaving the moors behind I found little of interest for me. I prefer walking in areas of wilderness where there is little obvious sign of human interference. Farmland depresses me just as much as a city centre while Dalby Forest was not much better. The woodland around Newton Dale was much more interesting as it’s not a wood managed purely for its timber. Ultimately I think I need to rethink my current obsession with long distance paths as I still really prefer to be at the top of a mountain instead walking along the valleys. The walk on this day was badly planned as I would never have been able to complete it in time, but the scenery along the southern edge of the North York Moors is, shall we say, not as interesting as other areas of the park. I had planned to do a circular walk around the park but ultimately that didn’t work out.

Osmotherly to Helmsley

Friday 3rd September 2010 

After my epic thirty mile walk of the day before, I thought twenty-two miles to Helmsley would be easy, but this turned out not to be the case. A combination of the heat, the dreariness of the surroundings, and the consequences of the previous day's hard walking had all taken their toll on me. By the time I reached Helmsley I was exhausted and unable to think clearly. Even though I did reach Helmsley I have no idea how I got there! The day started with a lot of mist and very poor views across the moors, but most of this cleared to reveal another warm, tiring day, though the distant views remained misty all day. To start the walk I climbed out of Osmotherly along the Cleveland Way and headed up onto the open moor where I joined the Hambleton Track, which is an old drovers' road (cattle way), that goes straight on for miles across the heather covered moors of the Hambleton Hills. I'd seen so much purple flowered heather during the previous couple of days that I was becoming so fed up with it that I was desperate for a change of scene. 

This eventually happened when I left the track and dropped down through a wood past High Paradise Farm. Beyond the Sneck Yate Road I climbed onto the edge of an escarpment that has precipitous drops down to a lush tree-filled environment. This is Boltby Scar while the wood below was Town’s Pasture Wood, and it was the highlight of the walk. As the path clung to the edge of the escarpment the surroundings felt wonderfully wild with an abundant variety of plants that were a far cry from the heather filled moors. I continued along the path under the hot sun in a wide arc at the top of a steep hillside above extensive woodland. On rounding a corner I passed the sparkly Gormire Lake, nestled in a woodland setting, and came upon Sutton Bank, where a main road, the A170, climbs up the steep hillside on its way to Helmsley. Crossing this busy road I stopped at a vantage point where the extensive views across the wide Vale of York were hazy in the hot sunshine. After lunch I set off along the edge of the escarpment around the perimeter of a gliding club. Around a corner of the escarpment I came upon a large white horse made out in stones on the side of the steep hillside. After looking at the white horse and the extensive views southwards I returned around the corner to a signpost that marks the continuation of the Cleveland Way. This was where things began to blur for me as the Cleveland Way leaves the edge of the escarpment and heads out across dreary farmland to the village of Cold Kirby. I do remember that I didn't like the farmland that I was walking through as I thought it was a little too much like that found in Leicestershire. According to the map I must have passed through the village of Cold Kirby and continued down into the valley of Nettle Dale. This valley left little impression on me as I walked along a wide track before joining a road. I do remember the long, dreary walk along that road and passing a particularly fine looking ruin of an abbey, which would have been Rievaulx Abbey, considered by many to be one of the most beautiful abbeys in England. I wish I’d visited it. 

With aching legs I eventually reached the small town of Helmsley where I collapsed into the youth hostel. This was not a great walk but at least it did have one or two memorable moments. The final stage of the walk contained all that I consider bad about long distance paths. For years I have shunned long distance paths and been content to just go up individual hills, but in the last couple of years I have taken an interest in stringing along a series of great walks across great countryside. Unfortunately some of this walk was just too tedious, and I was too tired to be interested. However, since this is actually usually the start rather than end (as in my case) of the Cleveland Way, maybe the gentle couple of miles to the escarpment are a deliberately easy start. Whatever the case, it wasn't to my taste.

Glaisdale to Osmotherly

Thursday 2nd September 2010 

This was an epic walk as I crossed the main bulk of the North York Moors before traversing an undulating range of hills on my way to Osmotherly on the western edge of the North York Moors. After a couple of nights spent in the fabulous youth hostel in Whitby, I caught a train back to Glaisdale in order to resume my walk along the Coast to Coast Path that I’d left two days previously. I climbed up to the village of Glaisdale from the railway station and onto the open moor where the miles quickly vanished beneath my feet as I crossed the vast moor. The track through the moor led to a road, which led me to a path round the head of Great Fryupdale (fantastic name!). At this point in the walk I was passed by a long line of Land Rovers, all full of rich idiots who think it’s fun to drive onto the moor and shoot at the poor, defenceless grouse. I left them behind trying not to think evil thoughts about them and instead tried to be thankful that at least these days walkers and toffs can share the moor together. Another section of road walking led me to a white-washed stone figure, known as Fat Betty, wonderful name. . 

Opposite this strange object I took a narrow path across Rosedale Head to a road and a track opposite that isn't on the official coast to coast route but seemed to me like a good short cut as I didn't need to take the wide diversion to the Lion Inn. But as Tolkien told us, short cuts make long delays, and I took the wrong path, which after passing a line of grouse butts ends at the edge of Westerdale. So, I had to cross the top of the dale through dense reeds and heather in order to get onto the narrow path that I should have taken. This took me back onto the coast to coast route, on the track of a disused railway that is a fabulously fast route across the moor, so now the miles really disappeared as I sped along the wide flat track across the vast open moor. Eventually I reached Bloworth Crossing where I said hello to the Cleveland Way again and, sadly, goodbye to the easy walking along the old railway. A gentle climb took me onto Urra Moor and the highest point in the North York Moors, Round Hill. I stopped for lunch beside the summit and was in awe of the views that I could see around me, particularly across the vast distances of the Cleveland Plain and the Vale of Mowbray. Roseberry Topping and the Captain Cook Memorial could be clearly seen on the western edge of the moors. After lounging beside the trig point for a while in the gorgeous sunshine I set off again along the wide track over Carr Ridge and steeply down to the road on Clay Bank. Now the whole nature of the walk changed dramatically as a steep climb took me up to the top of White Hill and a steep drop took me down past the delightful Wainstones. This collection of large rocks gave me an excuse to have a bit of a scramble that was sadly short lived, especially as I was passing them in descent. If I’d been doing the Coast to Coast in the usual direction, then the Wainstones would have been tackled in the more satisfying manner. 

After crossing Garfit Gap I again climb took me up to the top of Broughton Bank, only to repeat the pattern again as I dropped down to the next saddle before climbing over Cringle Moor, and then again up to the trig point atop Carlton Moor. This pattern continued up and down many hills and each time wore me out as I climbed in the hot sun, but it was all fabulous walking, even though I’d already walked over twenty miles. The moorland tops and descents more than compensated for the tiring climbs while the highlight of this undulating traverse was the Wainstones passed earlier, but the ever changing landscape and the vast views across the Cleveland Plain were an added bonus. Beyond the trig point on Carlton Moor I passed the deserted remains of a gliding club and finally descended off the moor into Scugdale. 

The farmland in Scugdale was the first sign of civilization I had seen since leaving Glaisdale, but it was short lived as I climbed back out of the valley and into Clain Wood. This was a welcome change after the endless moorland of earlier in the day but by this time I was past caring. By this point, I had walked twenty five miles and I still had another five miles to go before I got to the youth hostel. I trudged on through the wood, up a steep, straight path and across Scarth Nick onto Scarth Wood Moor. After a final ascent up to Beacon Hill I left the coast to coast path behind and took a bridlepath that goes straight into the village of Osmotherly. In all I had walked about thirty miles in less than ten hours which is quite an achievement, but I had been able to put on a good rate of knots while crossing the moor. Once I’d left the open moor the variety afforded by the undulating hills was a welcome change despite the colourful heather never being far away. This was a great walk on a great long distance path, the coast to coast.

Roseberry Topping

Wednesday 1st September 2010 

After a morning spent exploring the connections between Whitby and Bram Stoker's Dracula, particularly in the Abbey, I took a train down the Esk Valley line to the tiny station of Kildale. I was going to walk up a popular hill in the area, but I was not going to be take the orthodox route to the bizarrely named Roseberry Topping. Once in Kildale I re-joined the Cleveland Way (but this time actually going in the usual direction) as it climbs steeply up the hillside opposite on a minor road. At the top of the hill I left the road and walked along a lovely path through woodland and eventually emerged onto the wonderfully purple-flowering heather-clad moorland of Easby Moor. At the top of the prominent hill ahead was a tall monument to Captain Cook with extensive views across the wide Vale of Mowbray westwards. 

From the monolith I headed north into a wood and dropped steeply to a car park. Across the road I climbed steeply again onto the vast heather-clad Newton Moor. A wonderful walk along the edge of the escarpment took me to the corner of the moor where striking views could be seen of a distinctively shaped hill. Roseberry Topping sits at the north-eastern corner of the North York Moors and is a prominent hill that can be seen for miles around. It accordingly attracts many visitors and is probably the most popular hill in the North York Moors so it has many paved footpaths up its steep sides, but to me it just seems like a trifle! I dropped down to the saddle and climbed the zigzagging path that climbs to the summit of this popular hill. Despite misty distant views, the panorama was quite extensive with far reaching sights. After appreciating the views I took a path down the southern slopes of the hill and walked round to a small folly on the south-western side. From there I crossed the western slopes of Roseberry Topping until I reached the path that climbs the north western slopes. I climbed this paved path and before I knew it I found myself back at the summit (I must have had bountiful amounts of energy!). After re-acquainting myself with the summit I returned to the saddle and climbed back up to the moor. Even stuck in Leicester, I had heard of Roseberry Topping before as I have friends who have been up it and they seemed to be always mentioning it. This is a very popular hill because it satisfies all the necessary requirements: it is a relatively easy to climb but is so prominent it attracts the eye, and it has a main road at its foot. Roseberry Topping is rightly a very popular hill as it is accessible to all the family. 

My return route involved another fabulous moorland crossing, eventually leaving the Cleveland Way and following a track that crosses the moor. At a tarmac road I immediately took a heavily eroded track that descends through trees to the small valley of Lonsdale where I picked up a road, which was the one that I’d taken on my outward route and so eventually brought me back down into Kildale. This was a good walk up a distinctive, if small, hill in great, sunny, weather.

Robin Hood’s Bay to Glaisdale

Tuesday 31st August 2010

Last Easter I walked along the Coast to Coast Path from the Lake District through the Yorkshire Dales and to the castle town of Richmond. Now I had the opportunity to walk along the final section of the Coast to Coast Path from the east coast to the western edge of the North York Moors. To start the walk I climbed out of Boggle Hole and crossed the low cliff top to the village of Robin Hood’s Bay, where there is a tightly packed collection of delightfully small cottages and narrow streets. After dipping my toes in the sea (actually just wetting my boots) at the actual end of the Coast to Coast Path I set off up the steep, narrow streets on Wainwright’s epic walk. Once on the cliff top path I resumed my walk along the Cleveland Way (which coincides with the coast to coast for a couple of miles) high above the sea cliffs around Ness Point. This first section (usually the last) of the coast to coast features some fabulous cliff top walking with some steep descents and ascents, in and out of inlets, accompanied by stunning views of the cliffs and the sea under clear, sunny skies. Eventually, at Maw Wyke Hole, I said goodbye to the sea and climbed up the hillside through a caravan park and into the village of Hawsker. Continued road walked took me over the busy A171 road and onto a track that climbs up to my first moor of the holiday. This was a fabulous walk through purple flowering heather as I crossed Low Moor to the B1416 road. A short walk along the road took me to another moorland, crossing over Sneaton Low Moor. 

A minor road at the far end of the moor took me down into the delightful valley of May Beck where I had a wonderful walk along a great woodland path at the bottom of an exquisite, narrow valley. Passing Falling Foss waterfall I stopped at a hollowed-out rock known as the Hermitage where I had my lunch. This is marked on my map as being a viewpoint but the trees have overgrown and now block most of the view across the valley, which is a pity as I didn’t have much else to look at as I ate. The continued walk along the bottom of the delightful valley of Little Dale took me to the picturesque village of Little Beck where another road took me steeply out of the valley and onto another gorgeous moorland. The ascent continued across a main road, the A169, as I climbed up to the top of the moor, Flat Howe, but at a lowly 289m. At this point I disagreed with the map and tried to forge me own route across the moor, but with hindsight I think I should have gone even further away from the prescribed route. 

The route at this point has seen some variations over the years. Wainwright’s original guide recommended crossing the moor through pathless heather to the tumulus atop Flat Howe before continuing to the main road (remember I’m doing this walk the wrong way round). The partial revision of 1994 has a side note advocating a strict adherence to rights-of-way by staying on the road almost all the way around the moor, and my map follows this route. Chris Jesty’s recently published second edition of Wainwright’s guide reverts to Wainwright’s original route by recommending a traverse of the heather thanks to new Right to Roam legislation. Going in the opposite direction I headed straight onto the moor from the main road but soon found myself wading through deep heather that was both tiring and frustrating so that eventually, without visiting the actual summit of Flat Howe, I gave up and headed straight towards the road which I followed downhill. Two guys who were walking behind me took a different route. They walked along a bridlepath that crosses the northern slopes of Flat Howe before reaching the road at the edge of the moor. This seems to me to be the easiest route so I don’t know why it has never been recommended before, however, given good weather and low heather, Wainwright's route would be the best. 

On reaching the road I walked steeply down to the bottom of the Esk Valley, into the village of Grosmont. The northern terminus of the North York Moors Railway is at Grosmont, which was enough enticement for me to spend an hour or so there looking at the trains in the engine shed and the ones, including a majestic 9F, that were pulling the services. I was strongly tempted to take a ride on the trains but that was not what I was there for. So I resumed the coast to coast with a short walk along the road to a track that follows the River Esk to Egton Bridge where I had to walk along the road again until I reached the southern end of East Arnclife Wood. An undulating track weaves its way through the wood eventually descending to the riverside for a final delightful, weary stroll to Glaisdale station where I caught a train to the harbour town of Whitby. One thing I noticed on this walk was that there is a lot of road walking on the Coast to Coast Path, but there are also lots of other terrain to walk through such as vast moorland and narrow tree-filled valleys. This was a really varied walk and typical of the Coast to Coast Path at its best.

Scarborough to Robin Hood's Bay

Monday 30th August 2010 

In all my travels around Britain I had never done any walking in the North York Moors, partly because there are no mountains in the area. The highest point in the North York Moors is a mere one and a half thousand feet high, but instead there are vast heather-clad moorlands and dramatic sea cliffs that do compensate for the lack of hills. It was the sea cliffs that I explored on this first day of my circular tour around the North York Moors as I walked up the coast to Robin Hood’s Bay. After catching a train to Scarborough I set off through the packed streets of the seaside resort, or as I thought of it, the tourist hellhole. I find it amazing that as a child I always went to the seaside for my holidays, and loved it, but now I can’t stand the places. The countless amusement arcades and souvenir shops were more than I could stand. Eventually I escaped and descended to the old harbour at the sea front where I quickly walked along the promenade below the mighty cliffs that rise to the remains of the castle. At the end of the promenade I thankfully said goodbye to Scarborough and crossed Scalby Beck, climbing to the top of small cliffs where I began a lovely stroll up the coast on the edge of these sea cliffs. 

The weather during my walk up the coast on the route of the Cleveland Way was rather ‘bracing’ with a stiff cold wind coming off the sea, but the sun came out later in the day to warm things up a bit. The plant life beside the path at the start of the walk was predominately knapweed and hemlock and later, on entering the national park, this gave way to more willowherb. The scenery up and down the coast was spectacular while the walking was easy until I reached Cloughton Wyke where I had to descend steeply to the inlet and then climb steeply out. This was repeated several times culminating in the severely deep Hayburn Wyke which has a delightful nature reserve at the bottom. Despite the strenuous climb I had a wonderful walk through the gorgeous dell and its abundance in plant life. It always amazes me how tiring walking beside the sea can be. One would imagine that it would be very easy, but there can often be some really steep climbs involved. Some years ago I did some walking along the Cornish coast and that is even worse than this coastline with deep inlets every couple of hundred metres. It does however make up for the lack of hills. 

This pattern was repeated as I walked up the coast until eventually I reached 'the town that never was', Ravenscar. After passing the deserted streets that never had houses I slowly descended to the southern end of Robin Hood’s Bay where another deep inlet, Stoupe Beck, had to be crossed before I reached the inlet of Boggle Hole, which is a bare mile short of the village of Robin Hood’s Bay. Rather than continuing to the village I stopped in Boggle Hole as there is a youth hostel nestled in the dark inlet. Despite the lack of any mountains on this walk it was still a tiring walk to start my holiday. The scenery from the top of the cliffs was always dramatic with some great, steep cliffs to enjoy as I walked safely above them. This was an enjoyable walk and served as a good introduction to the delights of the North York Moors and coast.

Snowdon by the western tops

Saturday 14th August 2010 

I always go up Snowdon at least once a year, so since I had not been up yet this year I was desperate for a chance to climb that great mountain. The weather forecast for the weekend looked good on the Wednesday before so I quickly arranged to go but once Saturday came along the good weather failed to materialise until the following day leaving me with a wet, windy and cloudy day to walk in. Despite this I drove to North Wales Friday evening and stayed at the wonderful Bryn Gwynant hostel overnight before going over Pen y Pass to Llanberis in the morning. Starting from this tourist-filled village I walked up a steep, narrow road over Bwlch-y-groes and branched off at the highest point onto the heather-clad moor. Slowly I walked up the path to the top of Moel Eilio over the shoulder of Bryn Mawr, plunging into clouds half way up. Since the weather was poor I had decided that it would be a good idea to retrace the route that I had taken on my first ever walk up Snowdon back in 2003. Instead of taking one of the six rights-of-way up Snowdon I had approached via the little visited western tops, of which Moel Eilio is the highest. My reason for taking this route at that time was because I had wanted to go up every hill above two thousand feet in Wales, including these satellites of Snowdon. Fortunately I have since abandoned such bagging nonsense. 

From the summit of Moel Eilio I walked against a strong side wind along the undulating ridge, where I had wonderfully steep cliffs to my left, until I reached Foel Goch. On the other side of this hill is Moel Cynghorion, which I went up last time despite the great effort required because I thought every hill had to be bagged; fortunately on this occasion I didn’t bother. Instead I crossed the southern slopes of Moel Cynghorion until I reached the Snowdon Ranger Path. From there I followed this great path all the way up to the summit of Snowdon. I was last on this path eighteen months ago in descent and I was struck then, as now, by how thrilling the zigzags are that take the path from the shore of Llyn Ffynnon-y-gwas onto the ridge of Clogwyn Du’r Arddu. They are a really great, rugged, rocky climb, even if it’s exhausting. At the point where I reached the top of the ridge I stopped to have my lunch so I could admire the views before plunging into the clouds that were billowing through the gap of Bwlch Cwm Brwynog. 

Restarting the walk after eating I felt very tired as if stopping had allowed my body to go to sleep and now it was complaining at having to start climbing the ridge again. Slowly I struggled up the mountain until I reached railway tracks and the great mass of people at the top of the Pyg Track. There had been a few people on the Snowdon Ranger Path, but this was a mere handful compared with the crowds that were coming up the Pyg Track onto the Llanberis Path. Suddenly I was surrounded by an enormous number of people that grew as I nearered the summit. Despite the zero visibility, spotty rain and wind, the top of Snowdon was teaming with people. I go up mountains to get away from people but the summit of Snowdon that day was worse than High Cross Shopping Centre on a Saturday afternoon. In the past I have considered the summit of Snowdon as an old friend, even saying hello to it when I get there (!), but on this occasion I couldn’t get away from it quick enough. 

Before I left the summit there was somewhere I wanted to visit first. Ever since the new summit building was completed a year or two ago I have been itching to see inside but every time I’d been up Snowdon the weather has been bad, and the centre was annoyingly shut. This time however the trains were running and the centre was open. Unfortunately the bad weather had driven everyone else into the building and the place was packed, and really hot and stifling. It may be nice in there but I could barely move let alone see anything. Eventually I managed to manoeuvre my way through the building and out of the back entrance, and having had enough of the crowds at the summit I circled back round the building and returned down the busy path to the top of the Pyg Track.

In 2003, on my first visit to Snowdon, I had returned to Llanberis on the eponymous path. This time I headed down the Pyg Track on the steeply zigzagging, heavily manufactured path, skipping past the much slower tourists who were carefully making their way across the damp rocks. There was something curiously satisfying about being much more confident of my footing than the people around me as I casually walked down the mountain. It’s probably childish of me but I enjoyed it. When the Miner’s Track turned off I continued along the wonderful Pyg Track, relishing every step on what is easily the best path up Snowdon, despite the poor state of the manufactured path. When I reached Bwlch y Moch I turned off the Pyg Track and climbed the Horns which I’d previously visited last August. I had thoroughly enjoyed these last year in bad weather and they were just as good this year now that I had a view from the top of this chain of small hills. At the end of the Horns I strolled down the grassy hill to the small car park at Pen-y-pass where a bus took me back to Llanberis. Any walk up Snowdon is a great walk and this time I had taken an interesting, little-travelled route, but it’s disappointing that I had bad weather again.

The Angle Tarn Crags

Saturday 12th June 2010

We have reached the final walk of my epic holiday to Scotland last June. I had travelled all the way up the west coast of Scotland visiting Ben Lomond, my first Munro, the awesome mountains of Glen Shiel, and the majesty of the Torridon giants on the way. The Northwest Highlands is an amazing place, unlike anywhere else in Scotland. The mountains are not as densely packed as further south, but there is literally nothing in between. It is a wide expanse with few settlements and a scattering of sheer sided mountains. The mountains in that area are stunning to look at, but scary to climb. Several times during this holiday I chickened out of going up a top due to what I would consider a very healthy fear of falling thousands of feet to my death that keeps me from doing anything too dangerous. That fear was not being exercised now as I was back in my beloved Lake District for the day before returning home.

I stayed in Patterdale overnight before parking at the Cow Bridge car park near Brothers Water for this short, easy walk before finally heading home. With another sunny day ahead of me I set off through the unspoilt village of Hartsop and along the bridlepath that climbs beside Hayeswater Gill. I walked up to Hayeswater last summer for the first time, also in good weather, but as I started the climb this time I couldn’t remember which side of the stream is better. I remembered taking the bridlepath the previous year but I couldn’t remember if that was better. Once on the wider bridlepath I decided that this was not after all the better path. The one on the other side is less travelled, narrower and stays closer to the stream affording better views of the cascades. After a while a filter house is reached beyond which a footbridge leads over the stream and up to the bridlepath.

Once at the mouth of Hayeswater Reservoir I crossed the stream and climbed up the steep grassy slope to the wind-swept col between the Knott and Rest Dodd. I had considered going up the Knott but dismissed it as being pointless as the Knott is an insignificant blip on the side of Rampsgill Head whereas my objective was Angle Tarn which is in the opposite direction. Instead I crossed the saddle and began to climb up to the top of Rest Dodd which I had previously visited in 2006 on my way down from Rampsgill Head. On that occasion I had rejected the Nab as a worthless northern extension of Rest Dodd, but now I descended to a fence with the objective of bagging this Wainwright. The Nab lies in the middle of the Martindale Deer Forest so access is restricted and the only acceptable route is to cross from Rest Dodd as I was doing.

The Nab is not a particularly appealing fell as the col is usually rather boggy (though it was not too bad when I was there) and the top is a simple grassy dome. The only compensation is the great view down Howe Grain towards Martindale. Returning to the fence below Rest Dodd I followed it across the northern flank to a small north western ridge of Rest Dodd which I crossed before descending the western slopes to the scattered outcrops of Satura Crag. The main footpath, which the Coast to Coast follows, passes over these crags on its way over the High Street range. I spurned the path in order to climb up to the top of Buck Crag. My goal on this walk was to go up all the crags that surround the gorgeous Angle Tarn which nestles in a slight hollow amongst the fells; Buck Crags was not only the start, but is also the highest top. From there I crossed the path and headed to the top of Brock Crags which sports good views of the area, over Brothers Water towards the Kirkstone Pass and along Patterdale. Four years ago, for some reason I didn’t go up this Wainwright, but now I was able to correct my mistake.

From Brock Crags I headed towards Angle Tarn itself, passing over Cat Crag which lies just next to the picturesque lake. From there I continued to the best peaks in the area: Angletarn Pikes, which has two main tops with the northern one being slightly higher. After visiting the southern top I crossed over to the northern top where I sat on the steep northern slopes and had my lunch. From this vantage point I could see over the wide Boredale Hause to Ullswater and beyond to the Helvellyn range of fells. A desire to get home as soon as possible prompted me to end the walk at this point so I dropped down off the fell and onto the route of the Coast to Coast Walk travelling as far as Boredale Hause where I took a wide stony track back to Hartsop. This was a great, if short walk, up the tops around the beautiful Angle Tarn. This may not be the best part of the Lake District but there are some gorgeous crags around Angle Tarn and they compensate for the bare, grassy terrain elsewhere.

Schiehallion

Friday 11th June 2010

The day before this walk I said a tearful goodbye to the north coast of Scotland and drove across the tragically barren wastelands of North Scotland to the east coast near the town of Tain where I visited the Glenmorangie Whisky Distillery. From there I headed south past the city of Inverness to the Culloden Moor battle site on the advice of a couple I had met at the distillery. Having acted as a tourist I then drove to the Aviemore Youth Hostel where I stayed the night. My long drive back home had already begun which I was stretching out over three days with the longest drive on the second day as I drove from Aviemore all the way into England. On this second day, soon after the Drumochter Pass, I turned off the main road and headed towards Loch Rannoch where I parked at the foot of the magnificent and rather isolated mountain of Schiehallion. I had never been up this distinctive mountain before because I could never seem to incorporate it into a schedule due to its remote location, and yet it’s one of the most popular mountains in Scotland. One reason for this is its ease of access from the main road to the Highlands, which made it favourable for me on this holiday. Without my car I would find this mountain difficult to access.

Starting from the Braes of Foss car park I walked up the well-manufactured path to the start of the summit ridge where the path stops. From there I had to cross the huge stony top, which would have been murder trying to navigate across in mist, but fortunately I had good weather even if the top was rather windy. Eventually I managed to reach the summit of this awe-inspiring mountain where I had my lunch. The view from the top was extensive and I realised that this was actually the highest mountain I walked up on my holiday, despite the relatively short walk up it. I came back down the same path I’d ascended as there is no other way off the mountain. This makes it difficult to create a long walk involving this mountain, but makes it ideal for my purposes on this day and for the less experienced hillwalkers who visit this mountain in their droves.

Schiehallion is an excellent mountain to walk up when you don’t have much time (or don’t want to take all day) as the path is beautifully graded and straight-forward, while the mountain itself has a simple whale-backed structure. Back at the bottom I drove back onto the A9 trunk road and south all the way back into England stopping off once again in my beloved Lake District overnight. The following day I would be able to enjoy this fabulous place again for a bit before going home, but the great views of Ullswater that I saw as I drove down Park Brow took my breath away and made me wish I was staying longer.

Ben Loyal

Wednesday 9th June 2010 

After going up Ben Hope, the day before this walk, I drove to the village of Tongue, which was a stark contrast to the tourist-laden splendour of Durness. Tongue is a quiet, secluded village beside the picturesque sea loch of Kyle of Tongue. I asked in the local shop what there was to see in the area and I got the reply that there wasn’t much. I took a walk up to a nearby tower called Caisteal Bharraich, which has dramatic views across the loch, as well as views inland to the multiple topped mountain of Ben Loyal, which is affectionately referred to as the Queen of the Scottish Highlands. The next day, I had another cold and cloudy walk ahead of me as I set off through Ribigill Farm and across the vast moorland of Bad Salach to a ford. Once across the river I climbed up a boggy path beside the imposing mass of Ben Loyal. Slowly the first top of Ben Loyal passed by me and I began to be concerned that the path I was on was going through the pass of Bealach Clais nan Ceap and not up the mountain. Quickly I turned around and began to slowly climb the steep hillside to my right. This was a really tough climb, but it surely would have been a lot steeper if I had taken Ralph Storer’s route straight up the face of the mountain. Eventually, after a lot of effort, I managed to reach the rocks at the top of Sgòr Chaonasaid. It was very windy up there, but nevertheless I clambered onto the top of the end crag from where I had great views along the length of the Kyle of Tongue and behind to the summit of Ben Loyal across a grassy plain. Climbing back down I bypassed all the other rocky tops, the most notable being the second top, Sgòr a’ Bhatain, and headed straight for the summit of Ben Loyal, An Caisteal (The Castle). The summit is well named as it is a huge circle of rock, impregnable except at one point, surrounded by the towers of the other tops of Ben Loyal. After climbing onto the huge rock that is the summit I found the trig point that marks the summit of the Corbett (Ben Loyal is not a Munro as it is less than three thousand feet high, in fact it almost isn’t a Corbett as it is only just above two and a half thousand feet). Climbing back down and circling round to the south I found shelter from the wind and had my lunch.

After eating I set off across the vast grassy saddle to the next top, Beinn Bheag. I was rather euphoric during that crossing, sheltered from the wind, wrapped up against the cold, and striding out through the clouds across the top of a mountain that stands far from any others. A western ridge branches off from the top of Beinn Bheag, and this was my descent route, which I immediately took rather than visiting the fifth and final top of Ben Loyal, the grassy dome of Carn an Tionail. I climbed down the steep grass slope onto the ridge and passed over the multiple tops of Sgòr a Chleirch before reaching the end of the ridge. There I dropped steeply off the end, clambering carefully down to the mouth of Calbhach Coire. Following the stream I dropped down through a delightful birch wood descending steeply to the moorland floor. 

I now had a couple of miles of walking across the vast moorland until I crossed the ford again and returned to Ribigill Farm. Once again there was another long walk in and out of a mountain in Scotland, which amazes me how often that happens. I couldn’t help thinking what I would have done if I hadn’t had the car. Although there is a Youth Hostel near Tongue I would have had to walk a couple of miles into the village and then another mile the other side of the village to Ribigill before I’d even started the walk I did this day. And then of course I would have had to repeat it at the end of the day, which is an all too familiar story. Despite the poor weather, this was an enjoyable walk over an interesting mountain, I just wish I could have found an easier way up.

Ben Hope

Tuesday 8th June 2010 

After my previous walk I drove up a narrow twisting road to the north coast of Scotland leaving the delights of Assynt behind. The area around Lochinver is an absolute wonder and I was really disappointed to be leaving. I had originally planned on spending four nights in the area, which would have given me a chance to walk up Quinag and Foinaven, but in bad weather I left these behind in favour of the north-western-most village in mainland Britain: Durness. The next day I behaved as a tourist sampling the delights of Durness including Cape Wrath (the north-western point), enjoying the sunshine beside the coast while the mountains inland were covered in rain and low cloud. The area around Durness is a treasure trove with a wide variety of wonders that includes vast caves, flower-covered moors and fabulous beaches. I had a great day in Durness, but the day after I was back in my walking boots for a walk up the most northerly Munro in Scotland: Ben Hope. I parked alongside other cars at the foot of the main path up Ben Hope and followed others up the path beside a stream. When I had started it looked like the good weather was back so I was slapping on sun cream and stripping down, but unfortunately it didn’t last. When the walkers ahead of me left the stream behind I stayed beside it and climbed a shelf below the high western cliffs of Ben Hope. Unfortunately I carried on climbing when I should have stayed beside the stream so by the time the stream reached Dubh-loch na Beinne I was high above the lake on a steep hillside. My difficulty in continuing to walk along that steep gradient eventually prompted me to try and climb onto the top of the ridge. After a lot of very steep climbing I eventually reached the top of the ridge where I collapsed onto the ground and had my lunch, while rain started to fall. The point where I’d joined the ridge was at about the 700 metre contour so I was already a good way up the ridge having missed out on the delights lower down. Resuming the walk I climbed up the ridge through clouds to the foot of a bad step where I suddenly had stunning views below the clouds of a small loch in a corrie and Loch na Seilg beyond. The bad step is a serious scramble and far beyond my capabilities so I simply side-stepped it by climbing up a nearby gully, which was rather difficult itself in the wet weather, though not unenjoyable. Ultimately I reached the top of the crag face where a short walk brought me to the summit. Ben Hope should have stunning views as there are no other Munros for miles around, but the top was covered in clouds, which spoiled my view. On my descent, once I was below the clouds I was still sufficiently high enough to have some quite good views up the deserted Strath More. My descent was a straightforward walk along the regular, tourist route down a steep, wide, stony hillside and a muddy path back down to the road. 

I wasn't until I was on the ridge that I enjoyed this walk, but before then I was cursing Ralph Storer, and especially myself. This walk would have been a lot more enjoyable if I’d followed Ralph Storer’s instructions to “continue northwards beside the main stream onto the shelf holding Dubh-loch na Beinne, and keep going until a way can be made up onto the north ridge near Loch Seilg at its far end.” How easier could it have been explained? So why did I try to get as high as possible as early as possible? It is amazing how often I don’t follow the plain instructions I’ve been given, probably because at the time I think there is a better way. There are many times I’ve got myself into trouble and cursed Ralph Storer (or whoever) and most of the time it’s not been their fault. You’d think I’d learn. The north ridge of Ben Hope is fabulous even if the best bit is the area around the bad step. As the most northerly Munro it’s a good, easy climb, so long as you take the right route.