Loch Mullardoch

Monday 2nd June 2014

My holiday in Scotland had a lot of ups and downs. There were some great moments at the top of fabulous mountains or beside tranquil rivers, but there were also moments when nothing seemed to go right and nothing was going the way I’d planned. This day was another that didn’t go as planned and as a result it was very disappointing. I had camped at an isolated spot at the top of the pass between Glen Elchaig and Loch Mullardoch, which was an idyllic place when I went to bed but when I got up in the morning the clouds had descended and it was raining. This rain carried on for most of the morning and it didn’t really get much better during the rest of the day with more rain falling even as I approached the campsite at the end of the day. I was not hopeful for a good walk as I broke camp and slowly set off along a landrover track towards Loch Mullardoch. My plan for this day had been to walk up the Mullardoch group of mountains that lie in the remote area north of Loch Mullardoch.

The usual route of access to these mountains is from the east, in Glen Cannich, where a long five mile walk is required beside the loch before you start to climb up to the top of An Socach, the westernmost mountain in the group, before returning along the tops of the mountains back to the start. My plan was to prevent the lochside walk by approaching from the west, but the weather forced me to change my plans. As much as I love going up mountains it is not much fun going to the top of a mountain in bad weather. I’ve done that too many times to really think it’s worth the effort. The top of a mountain in good weather is the best place anyone can possibly be, but in bad weather it can be the worst place you could possibly be.

At the start of this walk I had a clear landrover track to follow as it passed over the top of the pass and down into Gleann Sithidh. After crossing the Allt na Criche the track splits with a clearer track heading up into the corrie while a fainter track disappears into a morass slowly heading towards Loch Mullardoch. If I was climbing the Mullardoch mountains then a possible route of ascent would be to climb into the corrie up to the top of Meall Shuas and then after rounding Coire Lungard to climb the long grassy western slopes of An Socach. I’m glad I didn’t attempt this as even in good weather this would have been a long, frustrating, annoying and featureless climb. I think that this part of my holiday was badly planned as with hindsight I think the best route of ascent of the Mullardoch group really is to first walk beside the loch for five miles as the western slopes are just too long and tedious.

Since it was raining with low cloud at this point I fortunately did not climb into the corrie but instead I headed towards Loch Mullardoch for a long walk out beside the loch. However, it wasn’t long before I wished I had taken the hill route as the valley route was a nightmare. The track that I had been following soon faded away into nothing and was replaced by wet marshy ground that sapped all my energy as I struggled through the grass. There was hardly any wind so the midges were taking advantage of their perfect weather to feast on me as I dejectedly made my way east. The only compensation I had with being in this wild and isolated location was that the ground was overflowing with wild flowers, most noticeably spotted-orchids, which are normally not very common, but on this walk I saw lots throughout the day.

After passing the poignant remains of an ancient dwelling I had to climb the hillside over a ridge that thrusts out into the loch and at that point, just as I was getting hot from the exertion, the sun briefly came out and small flies, bigger than midges, took this moment to land on me, all over from head to toe. This seemed like torture as I felt like I was being attacked by the flies just as I was getting hotter and hotter and more and more exasperated. For some reason, I felt like I wouldn’t be in this situation if I’d had any midge-repellent, which I’d forgotten to bring, so I was loudly moaning my lack of repellent, even though I doubt it would have made much difference. I was cooking in my waterproofs and the flies were swarming all over me. Eventually I reached the top of the ridge where a breath of wind cooled me down and blew the flies away. As I got my composure back I sat down on the side of the hill and looked out across Loch Mullardoch.

During that brief moment of mild weather, while sitting on the hillside, I had a good reflection on hill walking and what I get out of it. I may love being at the top of a mountain, but there are two things I really need in order to enjoy it: good weather and a good footpath to take me up there, and on this walk I didn’t even have the second of these requirements as the area is too remote. Eventually I made my way down to a stalker's bothy and at the mouth of the Allt Socach I had my lunch. This is the point where Munro baggers would have left the lochside and climbed into Coire Mhàim on their way up to An Socach, but I was too tired and frustrated to contemplate an ascent despite a slight improvement in the weather. My onward route, thanks to those Munro baggers, was mostly on a good path which was lined with bracken and bluebells, as well as more spotted-orchids. In places however the path deteriorated with boggy ground once again making the going tough while several showers passed along the valley during the course of the afternoon.

This was a long and tiring day so I was tremendously relieved when I finally reached the large dam that converted the small lochs of Mullardoch and Lungard into the now much large loch of Mullardoch. This walk taught me that tough, off-path routes don’t appeal to me whereas I do enjoy good long-distance trails on clear paths. Another thing I’d realised was that since one of the best things about being at the top of a mountain is the view, so when that is lacking they are less appealing. Ultimately this was a day to forget except for the lessons that I learnt from it. My prospect for the rest of the day was a dull trudge along the road in Glen Cannich until I could find a quiet spot to make camp, but before then a passing car (and there weren’t many of those in such a remote area) stopped and offered me a lift into Cannich so instead of wild camping in the valley I stayed in the Cannich Campsite, which was a welcome relief after such a difficult day.