The Snowdon Horseshoe, part 1

Saturday 11th August 2012

Over the last couple of years I have been doing one-off walks in the middle of the summer. Last year I walked along the Walna Scar ridge in the Lake District, the year before I walked up Snowdon, and in 2009 I did a mammoth walk around the Kirkstone Pass in the Lake District. Without deliberately realising it I had started alternating my high summer walk between the Lake District and Snowdon, possibly two of the greatest mountain areas in England and Wales. I probably picked those areas because I had been trying to maximise my opportunity for one great day up a mountain in the middle of the summer. The actual reason I chose to walk up Snowdon this year was because I have always walking up Snowdon at least once a year, and I hadn’t been up this great mountain yet this year. When I realised this I was briefly a little disappointed with myself that I felt compelled to follow form instead of anywhere else I may have been thinking of walking, but when I thought about the prospect of walking up Snowdon again I became excited at the thought of climbing that great mountain again.

I got up in the middle of the night and drove all the way from Leicester to North Wales parking near the Pen-y-Gwryd Hotel at the same spot I’d parked the year before when I had led a group of guys from my Church up Snowdon. Soon after 7am, with the sun just beginning to appear over the tops of the hills, I set off from my car along the new path that was laid in the spring of last year. It didn’t take me long to climb up to the Pen-y-Pass car park, but even at this early hour the car park seemed to be full, which I found astonishing and, to be frank, rather stupid. The Pen-y-Pass car park charges £10 a day whereas where I had parked it was only £4, and a lot of people were prepared to pay that amount and get there at the crack of dawn for the privilege! My reason for starting so early was so that I could get the mountain to myself, but that was obviously not going to happen. Most people were heading off along the Pyg Track so I set off along the Miners’ Track around the small lake of Llyn Teryn and just before reaching the second lake I branched off the path past the inlet for the pipeline to the Cwm Deli Hydroelectric Power Station.

I had decided that I was going to climb Snowdon by the ultimate route: the Snowdon Horseshoe on top of the sharp ridges that lie to the east of the mountain. The horseshoe is usually (probably almost always) done in an anti-clockwise direction starting along the northern ridge of Crib Goch. Since that was the direction that I had taken six years ago when I climbed Snowdon on the horseshoe, and since everyone else was going that way, I followed the narrow path that climbs to the top of the southern ridge, Y Lliwedd. This is a great way round Snowdon, especially at this time of the morning as I literally didn’t see anyone during my climb over the top of Y Lliwedd, unfortunately I didn’t see much else either as it was very hazy with the humidity ruining my view despite blue skies overhead. This was a great disappointment as I had come to Snowdon expecting excellent views but it was just too humid, which is typical of this time of the year. Nevertheless it was great to feel solid rock below my feet again and to have the energy to make the most of it thanks to a determined effort to improve my fitness since returning from Scotland.

After visiting the East and West Peaks of Y Lliwedd I climbed down tricky, steep, rocky terrain to the col of Bwlch Ciliau and joined the Watkin Path where I saw my first people since leaving the Miners’ Track. It was still very early and yet here were people climbing the Watkin Path who must have started as early as me; it seemed like everyone had started early to climb Snowdon. I immediately left the crowds behind, coming straight off the Watkin Path to follow the top of the ridge and I had great fun weaving my way along the top of the crags. At one point I walked along a narrow edge that could have challenged Crib Goch, if it had three thousand feet sheer sides. When the gradient sharply increased I spurned the Watkin Path in favour of a direct ascent of the steep hillside climbing straight up to the top of Snowdon. I had taken this route in 2007 so I knew that it is a very tricky ascent and requires a careful picking of your route. You’ve got to stay away from the scree on the southern slopes as it’s difficult to get a grip on loose stones and these could fall down onto anyone on the Watkin Path, but you’ve also got to stay away from sheer cliffs on the unclimbable eastern slopes. A course has to be found between the treacherous loose stones and the dangerous cliffs up rocks that are both slippery and requires some scrambling. It’s no surprise this route is not recommended, but because of the difficulty I found it an exciting route up and there was no one around to interrupt my fun.

Eventually I reached the top of Snowdon and was disappointed to find the summit packed with people despite it being only 10.30 in the morning. Any other mountain in Britain would have been empty at that time of the morning, but not Snowdon on a Saturday in the summer in good weather. Snowdon seems to be getting more popular every year and that is beginning to put me off climbing it, which is a great pity as it has got to be the greatest mountain in Britain, but it’s a victim of its own greatness. I climb Snowdon every year because it is a great mountain, but if I am unable to climb the mountain without being surrounded by hundreds of other people I may stop doing so. One of my reasons for climbing mountains is to get away from the sort of crowds you’d find in a typical shopping centre, but the top of Snowdon is just like High Cross in Leicester, only higher. I found out on this walk that even if you get up ridiculously early in the morning you’ll still not get the mountain to yourself. Snowdon is just too good.

Inverie Woods and the Mallaig Circular Walk

Friday 8th June 2012

After four days in Knoydart it was sadly time for me to leave this fantastically wild and remote area. Before catching the ferry back to Mallaig I did a quick walk around the woods above Inverie where there is a good selection of paths above the small community and provided me with an entertaining walk while I waited. These paths took me up the steep hillside, climbing as high as I could get, until I reached a viewpoint near the top fence where I had views across the bay and out to sea, and then I dropped quickly down the hillside along a bike track having just as much fun running down as I would have done if I’d cycled down. On the pier I caught the ferry and nostalgically looked at the view of Knoydart behind me as the boat pulled away from Inverie. The Corbett and the three Munros that I had climbed during my time in Knoydart came into view as the boat pulled away from the shore: Ladhar Bheinn on the left, Sgurr Coire Choinnichean in the middle, standing guard over Inverie, and Luinne Bheinn and Meall Buidhe to the right. They could all be clearly seen as a reminder of my time in the area.

In Mallaig, due to the sparsity of trains on the West Highland Line, I had a five hour wait for the next train. Fortunately while waiting for the ferry to Knoydart on Monday I had seen a notice board that mentioned circular walks around Mallaig. The Mallaig Circular Walk climbs from the East Bay car park up a clear, well surfaced path to a viewpoint that overlooks the port. The circular walk then continues along this pleasant path down to Malaig Bheag and returns to the start along the road. This is listed as a two mile walk, which wasn’t going to last the five hours that I needed to fill, so at the top of the hill I turned right following a marker that pointed towards “Loch an Nostarie and Loch Eireagoraidh”. However, I think I must have immediately gone the wrong way as the faint path that I was following lead to a tall deer fence with no way over it. Turning left beside the fence I dropped down into a grassy gully where I found the correct path and a gate through the fence, which led me to another fence from where views could be seen across the seemingly unspoilt Loch an Nostarie.

Since I had plenty of time until my train was due I decided to start following some of the paths that are marked on my map that I could just about make out on the ground and headed east. The path I was walking along was very faint and difficult to follow, which made me feel like I was walking in some really wild and isolated location, but the illusion of unspoilt terrain was ruined when I realised that I was following a pipeline that goes from Loch Eireagoraidh past Loch an Nostarie to the coast near Mallaig (supplying water for the village). Two paths go either side of the small hill of Beinn nan Caorach to a narrow gully between the rocky peaks of Carn a’ Ghobhair and Carn Mhic a Ghille-chairn before eventually reaching Loch Eireagoraidh. I took the northern path past Beinn nan Caorach but I turned back along the southern path before reaching the gully. I suppose it might have been fun if I had gone through the gap and seen the loch, and maybe even climbed the rocky peaks to their summits. With hindsight I wish I had, but at the time I was just thinking about getting back to Mallaig for something to eat.

The path I was following led me briefly beside the An Leth-allt stream before descending to the shore of Loch an Nostarie. A pleasant walk along the shore led me all the way to Glasnacardoch on the main road near the coast, and a walk along the old road past a swimming pool and the secondary school brought me back into Mallaig where I had my lunch. The rest of my day in Mallaig was whittled away doing little else. It’s a shame I wasn’t able to do a bigger walk on my last full day in Scotland as my schedule dictated that I needed to catch a train south along the West Highland Line to Crianlarich where a short overnight stop would interrupt my journey home. I quite enjoyed my walk around the hills overlooking Mallaig. The weather was as good as I had enjoyed throughout my holiday and afforded me with good views out to sea, towards the mountains of Rùm and south towards Loch Morar. I can’t believe how lucky I was with the weather during this holiday. This summer has been infamous for its bad weather and yet I found the only spot in Britain to have escaped. Not since 2006 have I known such consistently good weather during a holiday.

The negatives from this holiday are partly a result of the good weather: by the end of the holiday I was covered in insect bites from the midges that always plague the West Highlands during the summer. The hot weather had brought them out in their billions and they all seem to have made a beeline for me! Another problem I had on this holiday was my seeming inability to go uphill without quickly getting out of breath and exhausted. I put on a lot of weight over the winter and I think I was finally paying the price for it. Finally, I think a problem I had on this holiday, and indeed on other holidays in Scotland, is a lack of flexibility. I plan my holidays so rigidly that unless I have planned them perfectly, which rarely happens, I end up with things like a five hour wait for a train in Mallaig. My planning for holidays needs to be better or just a little less rigid in that plan. I had attempted with this holiday to stop my dissatisfaction with my Scottish holidays, and I can’t say this holiday was disappointing as I had a fabulous time throughout the fortnight. I climbed twelve Munros and two Corbetts while staying in some adorably isolated locations. The unspoilt isolation of places like Loch Ossian and Knoydart is the highlight of this holiday.

Meall Buidhe

Thursday 7th June 2012

Despite expecting bad weather to finally break my holiday, bright sunshine continued as I once again set off alongside the Inverie River through the wild Knoydart peninsula. There are three Munros (mountains above three thousand feet in Scotland) in the Knoydart area, and I’d walked up two of them over the previous couple of daysm which left the final Munro, Meall Buidhe, for my last day in Knoydart. This is not a big mountain (in terms of area), and in fact its name translates as ‘yellow hill’. Nearby is a mountain that translates as ‘yellow mountain’, that being Beinn Bhuidhe, which is a much more expansive mountain even though it’s only a Corbett (a mountain in Scotland between two and a half and three thousand feet). I considered including Beinn Bhuidhe in this walk, but eventually abandoned the idea, and harmed what could have been a great walk. When planning for this holiday I had thought of making Beinn Bhuidhe one of my targets for a walk and I think it would have been a great walk, but not if I’d tried to tag it onto its neighbour Meall Buidhe. Ultimately this walk was decided the day before when I didn’t walk along the ridge between Luinne Bheinn and Meall Buidhe, and that was decided by not walking between Sgurr Coire Choinichean and Ladhar Bheinn. What a convoluted mess!

This walk started just like the previous two with a walk along Gleann an Dubh-Lochain, a stunning valley that I was beginning to appreciate in many ways. Before reaching Dubh-Lochain I branched off the main track onto a path that crosses the Inverie River before making its way over the Màm Meadail pass. I soon turned off the path and crossed the Allt Gleann Meadail stream making my way straight for the western tip of Meall Buidhe. My Harvey Map indicated a path up the steep ridge, but I had difficulty following it at first, and even needed to consult my GPS at one point. Eventually, I managed to find the slender path that climbs the steep ridge of Druim Righeanaich and finally reached the top of the crags, only to see what lay ahead of me: long grassy slopes that led all the way up to the summit. This is the sort of thing I love in descent but in ascent I find it just too tedious as they seem to drag, so I was soon thinking that I should have done this walk in the other direction. The views behind me along the lush-green valley to Inverie and out to sea were stunning, but I would have appreciated them more if I was looking at them all the time rather than only when I stopped and turned around.

The clear skies were a soft blue while the sea was a lovely deep blue across the Inner Sound all the way to the mountains of Rùm on the horizon. The views were enchanting in the good weather. Very slowly I made my way along the grassy ridge all the way up to the summit. This holiday started with me having a lot of problems with fatigue while going uphill, possibly due to lack of sleep or simply because of the heat. Despite getting plenty of sleep and with cooler temperatures I was still not climbing the hills as quickly as I once did. Rejecting the possibility that I’m getting old, I assume I’m just not as fit as I once was. My legs were lacking the strength to haul myself up the hills very quickly, which is probably due to a lack of exercise, particularly of the hill-walking variety, when I’m not on holiday. My walking companion around Loch Ossian did a lot of running and despite being a little older than me was easily able to climb the mountains. Maybe age does have something to do with it – if I want to continue going up mountains in the way that I’m used to, I can no longer get away with sporadic walks up hills. I may even have to take up running …

Very, very slowly I made my way up to the summit of Meall Buidhe where I had my lunch with the typical stunning Scottish mountain panorama all around me. I couldn’t help thinking that this was the last Munro of my Scottish holiday this year; I wouldn’t be seeing the sweep of Scottish mountains as far as the eye could see again until next year. Not far from where I was sitting, just across the Carnach valley, are the Munros of Sgurr na Ciche and Garbh Chioch Mhor where I went for a long tiring walk in 2008. These are difficult to reach mountains that required a long drive beside Loch Arkaig before a long walk along Glen Dessary. I managed to get as far as Garbh Chioch Mhor in poor weather but had been forced to to turn back before reaching Sgurr na Ciche because of time and the remoteness of the location. On that occasion I never saw the illusive Munro, but now I could clearly see the sharp-peaked mountain. I wonder if I will ever finally reach the top. There are people who would not be happy until they have bagged every Munro in the area, but I’ve never been that concerned about bagging Munros. All I’m interested in is a good walk over good terrain with good views.

On leaving the summit of Meall Buidhe I crossed over to the south-east top, a Munro Top, and had a quick look along the ridge to Luinne Bheinn. I’ve heard that the ridge between Meall Buidhe and Luinne Bheinn is a navigational challenge, even in good weather. I might have had a great walk along that ridge, which I should really have done the day before, but should I have corrected that by turning left at this moment onto the steep rugged ridge? We’ll never know. I turned right down the south-eastern ridge towards Sgurr Sgeithe. After the ground levelled off the path I was following disappeared and I was left with a steep, pathless, crag-filled slope all the way down to Màm Meadail, so gingerly I made my way down the ridiculously steep grassy slope. By the time I got down to the pass I didn’t feel like prolonging the walk over Beinn Bhuidhe, where there appeared to be no path, so I just followed the good path all the way back to Inverie. I was just too tired to want to attempt the broad ridge. Beinn Bhuidhe should be climbed as the sole target of the day and not tagged onto another. It’s just a shame that I didn’t plan this walk better as the walk that I did would have been much better done in the opposite direction. My walks in Knoydart could all have been better organised, but I still managed to climb all three Munros in the area, plus a Corbett, and all in brilliant weather. I shouldn’t complain.

Sgurr Coire Choinnichean and Luinne Bheinn

Wednesday 6th June 2012

While the rest of the country was suffering from torrential rain in June, the west coast of Scotland was escaping it all so I was once again setting off for a good walk in brilliant weather. Although it clouded over later in the day, the weather for this walk never deteriorated so much that it prevented me from walking up a Corbett and a Munro in the stunning scenery of the Knoydart peninsula. This walk was dictated by the need to return to Inverie in the middle of the day to buy some food, specifically the local venison from the community shop that was not open early or late enough for me to visit before or after a walk. Two shorter walks were therefore required rather than one long walk. To start I climbed the Corbett that I’d failed to include in my ascent of Ladhar Bheinn the previous day. Sgurr Coire Choinnichean is the steep mountain that overlooks Inverie Bay and I had decided that the best route to take up it would be straight up the ridge from Inverie, and did I soon regret that?!! This was a ridiculously steep climb through lush-green bracken and past-their-prime bluebells up a sort of a path, but was really just a struggle up an impossibly steep slope.

As I climbed higher and higher I stopped frequently for a breath, but also to get a glimpse of the increasingly stunning view that was appearing behind me. By the time the gradient eased the ridge was narrowing and the view across Inverie Bay was awe-inspiring. In the superb weather and after climbing so high so quickly I had stunning views across the bay towards Loch Nevis and out to sea. As the ridge narrowed it grew craggier and more exciting with steep drops down either side to the valley floors far below me. There was a fabulous path along the glorious ridge with stunning views under blue skies and above blue seas that made every step a joy. When I reached the summit of the Corbett I bathed in the awesome scenery and stunning views and then turned around to enjoy that great ridge all over again. Beyond the summit the ridge widens as it undulates tediously over Meall an Ullt-fhearna down to the col where I’d joined the ridge the day before, so I felt there was no hardship in missing out on this grassy ridge. Instead I returned along the narrow ridge over the western top and turned right once the ridge broadened again and descended the wide grassy slopes around the top of Slochd a’Mhogha.

The grassy slopes above Inverie Woods took me to a forest track that led me all the way back into Inverie where I bought some venison stakes, and took them to the bunkhouse where I was staying, before setting off along the track I’d taken the day before beside the Inverie River. After having my lunch beside Dubh-lochain while dark clouds began to spread across the sky I slowly made my way along the well-made path that leads all the way over the pass of Màm Barrisdale. For those walking into Knoydart this would have been the main route into the area, starting from Kinloch Hourn and passing Barrisdale Bay before climbing over the pass. This was a very well-made path, well-graded and with clever, subtle engineering in places, but is sadly now in need of repair. At the top of the pass I turned right onto a narrow path that follows a broken line of fence posts across the southern face of the Munro, Luinne Bheinn. Despite dull, overcast views, this was a great walk with great craggy scenery, but it soon became obvious to me that the path I was on was not going up to the top of Luinne Bheinn. A quick check of the map confirmed that the line of fence posts that I was following would soon start to descend into Coire Odhair, so I abandoned the faint path and climbed up a steep grassy rake.

This strenuous climb brought me near to the eastern top of Luinne Bheinn, which has three prominent tops. I was fascinated by this and enjoyed exploring the complex summit ridge. The western top, which overlooks the Dubh-lochain valley, has a fine cairn at the top, but is not the Munro, it is not the summit. My map indicated that the middle top is the highest, so I set off along the ridge until I reached a much smaller cairn that is actually the summit of the Munro. The eastern top is slightly smaller than the other two, but there is a bit of a drop before a small scramble leads up to the top. In addition to Munros there is such a thing as Munro Tops. These are Scottish Mountains above three thousand feet with a drop of more than thirty metres, but not distinct enough to make them Munros. The western top doesn’t count, despite its cairn and its prominent view from Gleann an Dubh-lochain. The central top is a Munro, but the eastern top, thanks to its drop, is a Munro Top. I’m not actually interested in Munro Tops (I’m not really interested in Munros), but the path across to the eastern top seemed too good to ignore and the views from this top, along the summit ridge of Luinne Bheinn and across Barrisdale, were worth the effort.

With rain looking likely I passed back over the summit of Luinne Bheinn and descended the steep rocky north-western slopes to the col with Bachd Mhic an Tosaich. I found a great path down the craggy slopes but it faded into nothing at the bottom of the crags so, deciding that the fence-post path I had used earlier was a sure guide back, I descended the grassy slopes until I reached my outward route. It was now straight forward for me to return to the excellent Barrisdale path and follow that all the way back into Gleann an Dubh-lochain. The rain that had looked imminent from the top of Luinne Bheinn never really materialised, despite the heavy rain that was plaguing the rest of the country. This was a long day with two great walks up two great mountains in the fantastic Knoydart area. Both mountains have interesting summit ridges, which made up for the long walk-in required to get to Luinne Bheinn. After my second day in Knoydart I was really beginning to appreciate the fun that can be had on the mountains in the area.