Stac Pollaidh

Friday 4th June 2010

I continued with my negative frame of mind following my ascent of An Teallach the previous day, so I wasn’t in the mood for going up a mountain which meant I was unsure where I would go for a walk. I had seen a leaflet in the youth hostel in Ullapool for the local nature reserve of Knockan Crag so I decided that I would visit that before deciding where to go. Knockan Crag is a site of great importance to geologists where Moine Schists are to be found on top of the younger rocks of Durness Limestone. It was research done at this site that led to the development of the theory of tectonic shift. After a relaxing and informative walk around the site I returned to my car and drove a short distance onto a side road where I started to walk towards Ben Mór Coigach. However, after just a short walk along the road I turned back, put off by the prospect of walking along an indistinct, boggy path to an inconsequential mountain. I’m sure Ben Mór Coigach is a great mountain but I was not in the mood for a difficult walk across seldom visited terrain. Instead I drove to the foot of the nearby, much more popular, Stac Pollaidh and walked up the manufactured path that circles round the back of the castellated hill before climbing to the lowest point on the summit ridge.

Stac Polly is an astonishing little mountain of shattered rock and soaring sandstone pinnacles. I started my exploration of the hill on the seldom visited, lower, eastern tops, where I enjoyed lunch on my own on the easternmost top, while gazing across the lochan scattered terrain north towards the awesome Suilven. On returning to the col I tried scrambling up the many western tops, but they are so difficult to climb, and there are so many, that I eventually got fed up of the futile effort. I'd reached the 610m cairn by this point but not the final, highest peak, which requires a rock climb. After allowing another Torridonian Sandstone mountain to get the better of me I descended the steep gully that is just before the highest peak, and returned to the perimeter path, dropping back down to the road and my car. This is a fine mountain even if it’s not much more two thousand feet high, but I would appreciate it if it was a little easier to reach the top! Incidentally since Stac Polly requires a rock climb to reach the summit it is a member of a small, select group of mountains in Britain that can’t be walked up. Tryfan in Wales, Helm Crag in the Lake District, and the Cuillin on the Isle of Skye are the only other peaks in Britain that are impregnable to mere walkers. 

Leaving Stac Pollaidh behind I drove towards the small fishing town of Lochinver along a road that is described by Wainwright as the mad little road of Sutherland. In describing it he said that it is “a tortuous journey of ups and downs and ins and outs through a tangled landscape of low hillocks, gneiss outcrops, peat bogs and small lochans that lap the roadside verges, furnished with occasional clumps of trees and bordered by heather and gorse: an undisciplined maze yet endowed with infinite beauty.” He was so right, the road was an utterly exciting drive, particularly near Loch an Eig-bachaidh where the road hugs the edge of the bay with high cliffs on one side and the sea on the other side of the car-width road. Eventually I arrived in the lovely town of Lochinver where I stopped to explore and buy my dinner, and it wasn't long before it started to rain and thunder, which prompting me to be feel that I was lucky not to be walking in that weather. From Lochinver I drove to the nearby Achmelvich Beach Youth Hostel, which is set in beautiful, tranquil surroundings. The bay was so picturesque that I couldn’t help going out and taking some picturesm despite the risk of more rain. This area was the perfect antidote to the melancholy that had recently taken hold of me.

An Teallach

Thursday 3rd June 2010

After my wind-swept walk of the day before I drove further up the west coast of Scotland as far as the ferry town of Ullapool, however I didn’t catch the ferry to Stornoway. Instead, after spending the night in Ullapool, I drove to An Teallach, which is considered by some to be the greatest mountain in Scotland. The usual starting point for a walk up An Teallach is Corriehallie, and indeed when I passed the parking spot there were already a relatively large number of cars, despite the early hour. I was following Ralph Storer’s instructions and after parking near the Garbh Allt I set off beside the burn through a dense rhododendron thicket. If you ever wanted a demonstration of the problems that rhododendrons cause, then you just have to look at that path. Underneath the rhododendrons it was totally lifeless as all that was able to grow was rhododendron. The only compensation was that most of the rhododendrons were not in flower yet after our harsh winter.

I emerged from the rhododendrons to perfect weather and crossed the vast terrain under a warm sun. After my poor weather of the last two days I was being rewarded with fantastic weather at just the right moment as nothing less than perfect weather will do on a mountain like An Teallach. On this walk the wind would not put a stop to my adventures, only my fear of heights. After following the Coire a’ Ghlas Thuill burn along a muddy path I left stream and path behind in order to make a direct ascent up the massive bulk of Glas Mheall Mòr. Slowly I climbed up to the top of this northernmost top of An Teallach picking my own way up the interminably steep stone-covered hill. Eventually, after what seemed like forever, I reached the summit of Glas Mheall Mòr where I was greeted with stunning views of the coast and of the steep rock faces of An Teallach ahead of me. After a tiresome climb I joyfully crossed over the gap and climbed the steep stony hillside opposite to the top of the northern Munro of An Teallach, Bidein a’ Ghlas Thuill, where I had my lunch.

It was really enjoyable sitting on my own at the summit in such fantastic weather while gazing out at the awesome scenery around me, except for the terrifying sight of the pinnacles of An Teallach on the other side of the corrie. From the summit I descended once again on a delightful rocky path to the deep col and while keeping as close to the top of the ridge as I dared, I climbed up to the other Munro, Sgùrr Fiòna, where the pinnacles could now clearly be seen in all their terror. I probably should have at least tried to go up the first pinnacle, Lord Berkeley’s Seat, which Ralph Storer claims is an easy scramble, but for some reason once I got to the foot of the pinnacles I really didn’t want to go up any of them. The masses of people who had gone the other way round the mountain were quite happily climbing the pinnacles and making moves that I could never dare to make as I don't have a head for heights, so I quite happily missed out all of the pinnacles. Instead I walked along one of the many bypassing paths to the right while staying as high as possible so that I could peek through the gaps between the pinnacles. I like paths that cling to the side of a steep mountain, along a narrow ledge, as they test my nerves while still being quite safe so I quite enjoyed exploring the many paths that have been made to bypass these challenging peaks.

After descending steeply after the last pinnacle there simple remained a pleasant stroll along the ridge climbing over Stob Cadha Gobhlach to the top of a gully just before the last top of An Teallach, Sàil Liath, where I took a steep rocky path down the gully. For some reason I had, by now, lost all interest in the walk and all I wanted to do was to get off the mountain as quickly as possible, but I still had a long way to go. At the bottom of the gully is Loch Toll an Lochain which affords a stunning view of the pinnacles mirrored in the murky waters of the loch. From there I had a long walk along a faint path that followed the Allt Coir’ a’ Ghiubhsachain in surroundings that seemed almost Jurassic. The path eventually took me all the way back to the Garbh Allt and my starting point beyond the rhododendrons.

An Teallach may be a favourite of many people, but as I walked back to my car I was not so keen. Is An Teallach the greatest mountain in Scotland? I don’t think so, I think the giants of Torridon, Liathach and Beinn Eighe, which An Teallach shares many characteristics with, must hold a greater claim to that title. Maybe this walk was not as enjoyable as it should have been because I allowed myself to become too nervous due to the vertiginous nature of the mountain. The weather for this walk was perfect and An Teallach really is a truly awe-inspiring mountain, but I still wasn’t overjoyed by the walk. The fact that I didn’t go to the top of any of the pinnacles shouldn’t made made a difference; they are a really difficult scramble after all. I went to the top of the Munros and I had a fabulous walk; that should be enough.

Beinn Eighe

Wednesday 2nd June 2010 

Last year I spent four nights in Torridon during which I went up Liathach and Beinn Alligin, two of the Torridon giants, but I didn't go up the third giant, Beinn Eighe, because of the weather and because it is seven miles from the Torridon Youth Hostel. This year distance wasn’t a problem as I had my car, the weather however was still a challenge. I got up nice and early for this walk and was on my way by eight o'clock; it was overcast but I took hope in the forecast that said it would improve. I parked at the foot of the Coire Mhic Fhearchair path and set off along the road to the start of the Coire an Laoigh path. This is excellently graded and climbs thousands of feet up the hillside into the high corrie with a minimum of effort. The path may have been great but the weather was not as it started to rain with no sign of better weather to come. 

Hoping for better things I carried on up the path into Coire an Laoigh, and indeed by the time I reached the corrie the rain had stopped, and as I climbed the wall of the corrie the clouds gradually lifted from the summits. I was happy that my day seemed to have been saved and carried on up to the top of the ridge that surrounds the corrie, but as I neared the top I heard the howling of wind and I had a grim foreboding. Buttoning up I climbed onto the top of the corrie wall and started to battle my way on my hands and knees up a stony path against the wind to the summit. The wind was so ferocious that I wished I'd never bothered, but there was worse to come. 

On reaching the main ridge I was struck by absolutely stunning views along the whole length of the awe-inspiring mountain, and the full might of the wind. I had come onto the ridge near a trig point, which annoyingly was not the summit of the Munro, Spidean Coire nan Clach, which was a short distance away along the ridge. Carefully I tried to make my way towards the summit of Spidean Coire nan Clach, but the ridge was so narrow and exposed that I could hardly dare to make any progress. After scrambling up a small rock face I found myself stuck to the rocks unwilling to go any further towards the tantalisingly close summit. Accepting defeat, I slowly made my way back down the rock face and tried to return to the trig point along the exposed ridge. With less than half the distance to go I was hit by the full force of the wind and since I was already practically on my hands and knees I collapsed onto the stony ridge with my face pressed against the rocks trying to present as little surface area to the wind as possible. Eventually the wind subsided and I felt able to crawl the remaining distance to the trig point. There I took a number of pictures of the awesome sight that surrounded me, but which I would be unable to explore any further. 

Quickly, I made my way back down the stony path to the top of the corrie, still battling the wind, untilm finally, I was able to drop back down into the corrie. In the corrie floor I had my lunch and reflected that I was really lucky with the weather last year when I went up Liathach. I had perfect walking weather on that occasion, most notably that there was hardly any wind. Rain and clouds can easily be compensated for but there is nothing that you can do about the wind when it is this strong. Before I set off again the weather proved itself to be utterly unpredictable as the clouds descended once again and the wind seemed to move around so that it could get at me in my sheltered corrie. The descent was a breeze as I made my way down the well-made path but the weather was a lot more than a breeze! As I walked back along the road to my car I was constantly blown by a gale that I didn't recall being there earlier in the day. By the time I reached my car it had started raining again. 

The weather forecast for this day seems to have been far off the mark, or maybe Torridon is in a climate all of its own. The rain stopped the instant I drove over the pass out of the valley and into sunshine which greeted me on the other side. Sometimes the weather is too much and you have to just turn around and go back the way you came with your tail between your legs. Beinn Eighe is a great mountain so it was really disappointing not to have been able to do a traverse of its high ridges. I don't know when, but I know that I will be back to fully explore the awesome majesty that is Beinn Eighe.

Slioch

Tuesday 1st June 2010 

After the great weather of the day before, I woke to rain, low clouds and midges by the million as I packed up my car for yet another long drive to my next walk. I was returning to Torridon, the climax of my holiday last year, but I wasn't looking forward to a walk up one of the Torridon Giants in such poor weather. However, as I drove downhill towards the village of Kinlochewe, with the magnificent sight of Loch Maree ahead and Slioch to the right, I suddenly thought that Slioch would make a good alternative. This mountain is not in Glen Torridon but still possesses the Torridonian Sandstone that is typical of those giants. Incidentally, the evening before this walk I realised that I didn't know what my schedule was! I knew which hostels I was staying in, even if not the duration, and I knew which mountains I wanted to go up, but I think the availabilities of the various youth hostels had screwed up my schedule without me actually realising it. So, for the remainder of the holiday I had to make up an improvised schedule that was rather different from my original plan. I had once included Slioch in my itinerary but dropped it in order to get to the far north quicker, so at the last minute Slioch had been given a reprieve, which as it turned out was well deserved. 

Leaving the car park in Incheril, on the outskirts of Kinlochewe, I walked for three miles to the Kinlochewe River and Loch Maree, until I reached a bridge over the stream, Abhainn an Ehasaigh. Turning right at this point I ventured across rough, often boggy, terrain climbing up to the mouth of Coire na Sleghaich. Maybe I was a little unfit or at least not yet up to my full mountain walking fitness, but I found this quite an exhausting climb, lightened only by the sight of Beinn Egihe behind me, and hearing my first cuckoo of the holiday. This cuckoo, or possibly others, seemed to follow me on every subsequent walk that I took in the far north of Scotland and became a welcome companion as I travelled. On reaching the mouth of the corrie I crossed the corrie floor and climbed the hill opposite. This was a long, tiring and dreary climb that was enlivened only by the views north across Lochan Fada to the awe-inspiring Great Wilderness. Eventually, after a lot of effort, I reached the summit of Sgurr an Tuill Bhain where I stopped to have my lunch. Buttoning up against the cold weather I set off from the top towards the Munro across a fabulously narrow ridge. The sides of this ridge were ridiculously steep and induced a bit of delicious exposure. I couldn't help comparing this ridge with Striding Edge in the Lake District, which although is possibly slightly narrower is quite shallow, and not as high in comparison to this ridge which is insignificant for Scotland and so it doesn't even have a name. I am often reminded at times like this of the enormous differences between the mountains in Scotland and those of Lakeland. In comparison to Scotland the mountains of the Lake District are tame and easy, for the mountains of Scotland are in a class of their own. All too soon the terrain widened and I climbed up to the summit of the Munro, Slioch. I'm sure the view from the summit is fantastic, taking in Loch Maree and the Great Wilderness, but in the conditions I had I couldn't see anything. 

Turning south, with the aid of my compass, I visited the trig point, no longer considered to be the summit of the Munro, before taking another compass bearing towards the downward path. While passing a small lake I decided to visit the south top of Slioch before taking the steep path down. Once below cloud level I could once more see the eastern end of mighty Beinn Eighe. On Ralph Storer's advice I didn't follow the path down into the corrie but visited the final small tops on the corrie rim that culminates in Sgurr Dubh, thereby completing my circuit of the corrie. A ridiculously steep descent brought me down to my outward route which I took all the way back to my car accompanied for the first time on this walk by sunshine. Considering this mountain was unplanned and the weather was poor, I had a good, enjoyable walk over it. It was just a pity that I didn't have a view from the top.

The South Glen Shiel Ridge

Monday 31st May 2010 

On the morning of this walk I was on the move once again travelling from Crianlarich, where I'd overnighted, to Glen Shiel, stopping off on the way in Fort William for supplies and petrol before continuing to the top of Glen Shiel. Glen Shiel is a wonderful place that I just seem to keep returning to, this being my third year in a row that I've been there. Last year, after spending two hours at Cluanie Inn waiting for a bus to take me back down the valley, I resolved to bring my car next time, so that is what I'd done. Parking near the Cluanie Inn I crossed the valley floor of Glen Shiel, and across the stream that emanates from Coire nan Eirecheanach, walking to the foot of A'Chioch. Thus began a relentless and exhausting climb up a steep hillside in stunning weather with no clouds in the sky but a cooling breeze. By repeatedly resting I eventually reached the top of A'Chioch where I had my lunch in the stunning surroundings. 

While crossing a saddle the wind picked up, which prompting me to put my cagoule on before starting to climb the rock strewn slope that leads to the start of the ridge, Druim na Ciche. After gaining the ridge I made a fabulous crossing of the narrow ridge with accompanying nerve shattering exposure. I don't have a great head for heights, but I do like a good scramble that pushes me close enough to the edge to get my heart pounding. I don't like anything that is too exposed and in this case there was a lower path that I could have used to avoid all difficulties (I didn't use it, but instead I tried to stay on top of the ridge as much as I dared). With a couple of moments of good scrambling, this is a great route to a Munro and it isn't even on the main ridge. Immediately after the scramble is the summit of Aonach air Chrith, the third Munro on the South Glen Shiel ridge, and the highest. 

The whole ridge includes seven Munros, but from my perspective on the third Munro the others appeared to be rather dull and the ridge linking them looked to be a mundane, straightforward walk. I'm sure a traverse of the entire ridge is a huge undertaking, especially in bad weather, but since my time was limited I followed Ralph Storer's suggestion and took in just two of the seven Munros on the ridge. I keep telling myself that I am not in the business of bagging Munros, that all I'm interested in is doing a good walk; after all, I'm on holiday and I should be relaxing, not wearing myself out! Incidentally when I told this to someone in one of the hostels that I stayed in, later in this holiday, he replied that that was how he'd started. He was now bagging every Munro. I don't want to do that because a height above three thousand feet is no guarantee of a good mountain. I still often have to remind myself that I'm doing this for fun, because sometimes hill walking can be really unpleasant! 

From the summit of the Munro I turned right onto the main ridge and walked along it to the fourth Munro on the South Glen Shiel ridge, Maol Chinn-dearg. After my exciting scramble along Druim na Ciche this was an enjoyable, leisurely stroll on the excellent path along the top of the South Glen Shiel ridge until at the summit of Maol Chinn-dearg I turned left, off the main ridge and descended the grassy ridge of Druim Coire nan Eirecheanach. During the course of this walk I was doing a full circuit of the corrie and now had a wonderfully relaxing walk down the grass covered ridge all the way back to the road. This was a fabulous walk, shorter than my usual full day's walk because of the driving I had to do at the start of the day. In near perfect weather conditions this was a near perfect walk in an absolutely fantastic area of mountains. When I first came to Kintail I was struck by the huge numbers of mountains in the area and I knew I'd be coming back for a long time to come. All my walks in Scotland are inspired by Ralph Storer's book "100 Best Routes Up Scottish Mountains", and out of those one hundred walks, six start from Glen Shiel. I have now done four of those walks, so you can be sure I will be coming back to Glen Shiel.