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.

Ben More Assynt

Sunday 6th June 2010 

My luck with the weather ended with this walk as it turned bad, subjecting me to rain and low cloud throughout much of the walk. I was walking up Ben More Assynt, the highest mountain in the Assynt area, which was a welcome change from the sandstone mountains that I had been walking up throughout almost all the previous week. I parked near the Inchnadamph Hotel and walked up Gleann Dubh and before long it started to rain. After contemplating giving up on the walk due to the terrible weather conditions, I decided to carry on since I was walking along an excellent path at the bottom of a pretty valley that has a delightful stream flowing through it. As I was walking along the valley I began to think about how every mountain in Scotland seems to have a long walk-in, usually across moorland or into a high corrie, which makes the distances walked much greater than in England or Wales. In the Lake District every mountain has a road at the bottom of it, which enables you to park at the foot of the mountain and walk straight up to the summit. Fortunately this walk was reasonably interesting as I passed caves that the river briefly disappears into and lots of colourful flowers beside the path. 

I followed the River Traligill upstream up a hillside, into the clouds and up to the top of a ridge where I turned right to climb along the stony ridge eventually reaching the cloud-covered summit of Conival where I had my lunch. With the rain finally stopping I climbed across an interesting, stony saddle, with steep drops on either side, up to the top of Ben More Assynt, the highest mountain in the area. In the mist it was difficult to identify which pile of rocks was the summit, with a group of guys ahead of me claiming that the south top was the summit. Eventually we decided that the summit of the Munro was opposite the saddle, which has a cairn, but it really could have been anywhere. I had entered the map co-ordinates for the summit into my GPS but I didn’t find it very reliable, or useful, for either Conival or Ben More Assynt. It’s strange how different GPS receivers can give differing co-ordinates for the same place. Ralph Storer recommends traversing the south ridge of Ben More Assynt, but this is an exposed, hard scramble that I didn't want to do in this weather (or indeed any weather!), so I turned around and retraced my steps. If Ben More Assynt had been a sandstone mountain then that difficult, narrow south ridge would have had an easier, bypassing route around the side. The Lewissian Gneiss of that ridge is some of the oldest rock in the world, so it isn’t easily eroded into paths and would be tricky to traverse, even in good weather. As I descended from Ben More Assynt the clouds unexpectedly started to part, revealing views of Dubh Loch Mór to my right and the wide waterlogged valley of Garbh Allt to my left. With a clear view of the ridge in front of me I bounced across and joyously climbed back up to the top of Conival, the third Munro that I had climbed up that day (also my first Munro of the day), and I was still in clouds. 

From the top of Conival I descended the stony ridge back to the col at the top of the path down into the valley. Soon after starting to drop back down into Gleann Dubh I was enveloped by thick clouds again and soon after that it started to rain. The brief good spell of weather that I had enjoyed on top of the two Munros proved to be short-lived as it continued to rain as I walked all the way back down the valley to my car. It was bizarre that the worst weather that I experienced during this walk was not at the top of the mountains but while walking along the valley below. I thoroughly enjoyed this walk, despite the rain, as these were honest, straight-forward mountains. They are not Torridonian sandstone monoliths, like the hills that I’d been climbing recently, but simple heaps of shattered quartzite stones. It was a refreshing change to walk up a simple mountain.

Suilven

Saturday 5th June 2010 

Once again I had stunning weather for this holiday, and a stunning mountain to climb in lovely, warm weather, Suilven. This huge monolith of a mountain dominates the scene for miles around and is distinctively seen from the village of Lochinver. It may not be up to Munro status but in this area of few mountains it stands out and is in fact considered to be one of the best mountains in Scotland. Passing through Lochinver I parked at the end of the public road into Glencanisp. From there I walked along a fabulous track, past Glencanisp Lodge and through a gorgeous valley with gorse and bluebells lining the way before heather took over higher up. When I started the walk I couldn’t see Suilven as it was hidden behind the morning mist, but it wasn’t long before a huge scary looking shape started to appear through the clouds. As I drew alongside the enormous whale-back mountain the mist cleared sufficiently to reveal the awe-inspiring spectacle that I was going to be walking up. 

After crossing the river just before Loch na Gainimh I took a path that climbs across the moor past several small lochs to the foot of Suilven where I began to climb the steep slope. Eventually and after a lot of effort, I reached Bealach Mór, which is the lowest point on the ridge of Suilven. From there I climbed along the top of the ridge to the summit, Caisteal Liath, which is a surprisingly wide grassy plain. A little distance from the summit cairn is a flat slab of rock that sticks up into the air and makes a great backrest for the best seat in the world. From this vantage point I enjoyed extensive views across the whole area, looking out to sea and down on the wisps of cloud in the valley. I had my lunch while sitting on this throne-like seat and gazing across the amazing terrain of Sutherland where the mountains are few but the lochs are many. Returning to the saddle I climbed along the eastern ridge as far as I could go, though I only actually reached the first col. I could have gone further but I didn't want to. Like many of the mountains that I had encountered on this holiday, Suilven is a Torridonian Sandstone mountain with ridiculously steep sides and rock pinnacles on top. The eastern end of the mountain requires some rock climbing that I just wasn’t in favour of trying. These Torridon-esque mountains may be stunning to look at, but they terrified me. I never thought I had vertigo until this holiday. Fortunately, unlike Stac Pollaidh the previous day, the summit of this mountain is attainable by mere humans such as me. I can’t help comparing Suilven with Stac Polly, but it is easily the superior. In some ways it is like a bigger brother to Stac Polly; it’s certainly higher, but the rocks are not as shattered and it has only several tops rather than the innumerable tops of its lesser brother. Like all the Torridonian Sandstones there is a steep climb to the ridge but once there it isn’t too difficult to reach the summit so that even cowards like me can get there. After returning to Bealach Mor I reluctantly started to descend the steep hillside back down to the loch-scattered moor at the bottom. All that was now left for me to do was to walk slowly back down the valley in the warm weather past inviting lakes and moorland flowers in a plenty, with the might of Suilven itself behind me basking in the sunlight, like the prow of a battleship. This was a wonderful walk not just because of the fantastic mountain in the middle of the walk, but for the relaxing stroll through a picturesque valley where the view of Suilven dominates the scene. For any other walk the necessity of having a long walk in to the mountain would detract from the experience, but on this occasion and in this weather it adds to it. The path is a well-made stalkers' track that is always dry and passes through a valley that was a delightful place to walk through and always with the view of Suilven enticied me forward with every step. Back at Achmelvich Beach Youth Hostel the weather was great and the views across the bay were idyllic. This is such a wonderful area I was so gutted to be only staying there for two nights rather than my originally intended four nights. I spent that evening on the rocks overlooking the bay while reading a book and taking pictures of the stunning surroundings. My holiday would not get any better than this.