Beinn Liath Mhor

Wednesday 28th May 2014

After my disappointments of the day before, I was now really hoping for a better day, and that is what I got. The weather was not great at the start, but it gradually improved throughout the course of the day to end in fabulous weather in a great location. When I left Inverness it was dull and overcast with low cloud; it looked like I would have another miserable day, but the forecast gave me hope and so it proved. I caught a train from Inverness to the remote station of Achnashellach in Glen Carron, which was not what I’d planned for this day. Originally I’d planned to catch a bus to Glen Strathfarrar the day before and to spend the rest of the week going up to the top of the mountains at the western end of Loch Monar. A missed bus ruined that plan so I decided to spend the night in Inverness before travelling to Achnashellach, which is the nearest station to the West Monar Forest. When I bought the train ticket I was still thinking about going to West Monar, but the hills to the north of Achnashellach proved too strong a draw.

In 2009 I had walked through the Coulin Forest from Torridon to Achnashellach visiting the top of Beinn Liath Mhor on the way, and there I found an area of excellent mountains and good footpaths. Ever since I have been keen on returning to the area and since I felt that I needed a good satisfying walk I decided to go north from the railway station into the Achnashellach Forest. After passing through rhododendron infested woods I climbed the excellent path that winds its way up into the fabulous Coire Lair. It was already beginning to get quite warm a this point and I was soon very hot due to the exertion of climbing the steep path, so my cagoule came off for the first time this holiday and undeterred by a few drops of rain I continued to climb the excellent path that led me into the fabulous hanging valley of Coire Lair. Clouds resolutely clung to the tops of the mountains, but I refused to be disappointed while trying to decide where to go on this walk.

Since I’d climbed Beinn Liath Mhor five years ago it seemed to make sense to now climb Sgorr Ruadh on the other side of the valley, but eventually I decided to retrace my steps over Beinn Liath Mhor. Ralph Storer (in the indispensable guide ‘100 Best Routes on Scottish Mountains’) recommended climbing Beinn Liath Mhor first, and I actually thought I could do both mountains on this walk before descending east to the tiny bothy of Easan Dorcha, however I soon realised that wasn’t going to happen as I began my ascent of Beinn Liath Mhor. An excellent path meanders up steep heather slopes from Drochaid Coire Lair, but it was once the gradient eased that I found things more difficult. I had been feeling tired all week and really struggled with the long climb up to the eastern top while carrying a heavy rucksack.

When I plunged into the low clouds it was so cold and windy I decided to stop, have my lunch and put my cagoule on as well as a fleece before slowly climbing the stony slopes that seemed to go on forever. Eventually I reached the rather grand cairn that adorns the summit of the eastern top of Beinn Liath Mhor and soon after that the ridge narrows dramatically to provide me with a thrilling walk along the ridge that got even better when the clouds suddenly cleared to reveal a fabulous stony col between the eastern and central tops of Beinn Liath Mhor. As I passed over the central top the clouds lifted from the top of the surrounding mountains to reveal stunning views that opened out all the way to the Torridon giants of Liathach and Beinn Eighe. I stood just after the top in awe of my surroundings basking in everything that I could see around me. When clouds suddenly lift from the top of a mountain it is breathtaking and the best thing you can do is to just stop and take in the views that are only now revealed to you.

It was still quite overcast overhead but I now had clear views all around me while under my feet the terrain was glorious with white rocks everywhere and steep sided mountains in every direction. The third and final top, the Munro, of Beinn Liath Mhor was gradually easing out of the last wisps of cloud as I slowly descended to the second col and by the time I reached the Munro the clouds had lifted from every top and blue sky was beginning to appear. In 2009 I had sat at the top of Beinn Liath Mhor in excellent weather, but now it was slowly improving and during the rest of the afternoon would get better and better. Eventually I made my way from the summit of Beinn Liath Mhor down steep terrain and around the pathless top of Sàil Gharbh to the bealach and the main path that runs through Coire Lair.

Continuing on my route of 2009 in reverse I descended into Coire Grannda where stunning views of the Torridon giants could be seen with the serrated ridge of Am Fasarinen, the pinnacles of Liathach, drawing my attention. While the sun shone under clear blue skies and the Torridon giants dominated my attention, all my disappointments from the day before were a distant memory and I joyfully sailed along the path over Bealach Bàn and turning aside from my 2009 route I descended into Coire Fionnaraich. I considered pitching my tent beside the picturesque Loch Coire Fionnaraich, but eventually I decided to continue further down the valley to a bothy that is set in a lovely idyllic location half way down. By the evening the weather was near perfect and I was in a bothy on my own miles away from civilisation in a tranquil location. The day before this walk I’d felt that everything was going against me, but I probably ended this walk in a much better location than if I’d stuck to my original plan. I had done a fabulous walk over a great mountain and was now staying in a wonderful bothy in beautiful surroundings.

Not Glen Strathfarrar

Tuesday 27th May 2014

My plan for this day was to catch a train from Pitlochry, where I had been staying over the Bank Holiday weekend, and change at Inverness for Muir of Ord where I would catch a bus to the fabulous valley of Glen Strathfarrar for the start of an epic walk through this unspoilt part of Scotland. I managed to reach Muir of Ord with no problems despite a short time between trains at Inverness, but the instant I stepped onto the platform at Muir of Ord I realised that I didn’t have my walking poles in my hands. For a second I turned around to get back onto the train and retrieve them until I realised that they weren’t on that train, they were on the train that I had gotten off in Inverness. This was a disaster but I didn’t worry about it then as there was little I could do about it and I had a bus to catch, however that wasn’t for another hour and a half so I walked down the road to the Glen Ord Whisky Distillery.

I didn’t have time to take the full tour of the distillery so I just had a look around the visitor centre and had a taste of the Singleton of Glen Ord that is only sold in the Far East. With plenty of time to catch the bus I left the distillery and walked back into Muir of Ord while pondering my options for retrieving my walking poles. Do I travel to Inverness on Saturday, after walking through Glen Strathfarrar, to ask in lost property at the station about my poles, or do I abandon my walk through Glen Strathfarrar and go back to Inverness now as I’m a lot closer now than I will be on Saturday? The latter would totally ruin my plans for the week so I waited at the bus stop for the bus to Struy. A bus to Inverness arrived and left without me as I accepted that I wouldn’t have any walking poles for going through Glen Strathfarrar, and at just that moment the bus to Struy drove straight past me without stopping.

I was shocked. The bus driver had decided to ruin my plans for the week since I couldn’t decide. This bus is run by a small independent company using minibuses with the destination in small writing on a piece of paper in the window, and it wasn’t until the bus was alongside that I realised it was the bus I wanted. At the beginning of this day I had been looking forward to walking along Glen Strathfarrar, but now I had no idea what to do next. It wasn’t as if I could wait for the next bus to Struy as the buses were only once a week, the next bus was next Tuesday! My holiday was ruined. I had lost my poles and missed the only bus all week to where I wanted to go. Utterly gutted and dejected I headed back to the railway station and caught the next train to Inverness. At least, I thought, I could get my poles back, but lost property at Inverness didn’t have them.

By now I was so upset about everything that had happened I felt like crying, but I’m a man and we don’t do that kind of thing, so instead I formulated a new plan for the rest of the day and the rest of the week. I booked a bed for myself at the Inverness Youth Hostel and then did a walk around the lovely city of Inverness. If any city can lift depressed spirits then Inverness is surely the place to do it. I remember really enjoying being in Inverness ten years ago, but aside from passing through a couple of times I hadn’t spent much time there since, consequently this was going to be the first time I’d stayed in the city in the last nine years and I was keen on making the most of where fate had left me. My first destination was St Andrew’s Cathedral, a place that I’d seen across the river several times before but never actually gone in, however when I stepped inside it seemed so small I came straight back out again.

Near the Cathedral I saw a notice showing the walks around Inverness and one caught my eye as it passes through a nature reserve that I’d seen on the train. It lies between the River Ness and the Caledonian Canal at the northern end of the city overlooking the Moray Firth. To reach the nature reserve I walked beside the River Ness past works to build flood defences until I reached Carnarc Point, a narrow spit of land that juts out into the Moray Firth. The path was lined by broom and gorse (very similar in appearance from a distance, but very different close up), while at the end of the spit is a small lighthouse, while dominating the view is the Kessock Bridge sweeping across the Moray Firth from Inverness to the Black Isle.

Returning to the road I walked around the shore, past the old ferry port and into the Merkinch Local Nature Reserve, which was a fabulous place swarming with birds who all burst up into the air as soon as I approached. In the reserve, to my left were lagoons and to my right were mud flats on the edges of the Moray Firth. This path along the sea wall led me to the railway and the Caledonian Canal, which was as far as I was going to walk so I turned around and after crossing the nature reserve I passed through the Merkinch council estate following the railway line back into Inverness. This was a nice, little walk in warm sunshine, but it could only begin to compensate for what had been a bitterly disappointing day. I bought a cheap pair of walking poles to replace the ones I’d lost and continued to make plans for the rest of the week. I couldn’t help but be frustrated by what had happened on this day, but I was determined to make the most of what had happened and not let the rest of the week be marred by my regrets.

Beinn a’ Ghlo

Monday 26th May 2014

The day before this walk, I had started my annual holiday in Scotland with the intent of just enjoying the walking without the need to go up a mountain, but on this walk a mountain was exactly my goal. The day didn’t start very well with light rain and low cloud that gave me the prospect of a day that is not the best for climbing a mountain. Walkers, however, are hopeful people and they are always thinking that the weather will improve (and that the summit is just behind the next rise), despite long experience to the contrary. On this occasion it did improve, but only intermittently. Last year I walked past Beinn a’ Ghlo along Glen Tilt fully intending to climb it, but eventually I gave it a miss because I was tired and didn’t have the energy. Since Beinn a’ Ghlo was already a mountain that I was eager to climb I couldn’t resist deliberately arranging another attempt this year.

I started the day by catching a train from Pitlochry, where I had been staying, the short distance to Blair Atholl where I began the ascent. Rather than using the route recommended by Ralph Storer in his book '100 Best Routes on Scottish Mountains', the definitive introduction to walking up Scottish Mountains, I decided to take the more usual route, what could be described as the Munro bagger’s route. Ralph Storer’s route may be the best route, but Munro baggers are not interested in the route, they are only interested in getting up to the summit as quickly as possible. To do that they drive up a country lane to Loch Moraig and start from there, while I had to walk up the road, in the rain, from the Old Bridge of Tilt through dreary farmland to the loch where I found the usual collection of Munro bagger’s cars. Beyond the car park I continued along the track and began to realise why Ralph Storer had recommended the Glen Tilt approach as opposed to this dull route.

Eventually I came off the track following a bog trot to the foot of Carn Liath where a clearer path weaved an excellent route up the steep hill, which I found completely exhausting and left me wondering why I wasn’t very fit. The excruciating climb went on and on under the poor weather, but just as I was thinking the weather would never improve it stopped raining and the sun came out to provide me with the final push that finally brought me to the windswept summit of Carn Liath. The views south and west towards the River Garry and beyond were clearing nicely, but the views back towards the rest of Beinn a’ Ghlo and the Cairngorm Mountains beyond were still resolutely clinging onto their clouds. A bitterly cold wind was blowing at the summit of Carn Liath and didn’t encourage me to stay so I soon set off along the narrow ridge wrapped up tight against the cold.

Soon I was rewarded with a parting of the clouds and such a fabulous view of the Beinn a’ Ghlo range that I actually began to enjoy the walk! A small rise on the ridge is bypassed by the path (Munro baggers are very single-minded), but I wanted to enjoy the narrow crest of Beinn Mhaol before descending steeply to a narrow pass, the bealach between Carn Liath and Braigh Coire Chruinn-bhalgain. As soon as I crossed the pass it started to rain again so for the climb to the top I had to battle through strong winds and rain as I plunged once more into clouds. Just as suddenly, as I climbed the slopes towards the summit, the rain stopped and I was bathed in sunshine while the clouds lifted to reveal a stunning vista across the valley south of Beinn a’ Ghlo and by the time I reached the summit of Braigh Coire Chruinn-bhalgain the clouds had completed lifted to afford me with stunning views all around.

The third Munro, and the highest point on Beinn a’ Ghlo, was also beginning to appear for the first time on this walk from amongst the mist, but by this time I had already decided that I would not be climbing it. This was partly because I wanted to catch a train in Blair Atholl not long after five o’clock, but mainly because I was so tired. I felt that I didn’t have the energy for the steep descent and re-ascent required to get up to the top of Carn nan Gabhar, so I decided that the best thing for me to do would be to drop straight down into Glen Tilt from Braigh Coire Chruinn-bhalgain. First, while sitting beside the summit cairn, I had my lunch as the rain fell once again with the clouds staying high and enabling me to enjoy my surroundings across Glen Tilt and towards the Cairngorm Mountains, despite the rain. Before I left the summit the rain stopped and once again the sun came out so I could bask in the awesome scenery before beginning my descent.

This was not easy and I think my route selection could have been better, although Ralph Storer does recommend this route down if short of time. Initially I came down the south-western ridge around a boulder field and down ridiculously steep terrain to the top of Glen Fender, which I had anticipated but I hadn’t realised that there is also a steep descent into Glen Tilt, and I made the descent worse by trying to head down the valley on the steep slopes to try and find a bridge over the river. As more bands of rain and sunshine passed overhead I continued the strenuous descent remembering that I was coming down because I was tired and yet this was the most tiring part of the day. Eventually after much negotiation of the steep terrain I passed Balaneasie stone cottage and the spot where I’d camped last year, which I was overjoyed to see again, but I was concerned that it had taken me a long time to get to Blair Atholl from this camp spot last year and I didn’t have that long this time.

Fortunately I’d dawdled last year so I was easily able to get to Blair Atholl in time for the train. Once I’d reached the track at the bottom of Glen Tilt, at Gaw’s Bridge, I set off at a rapid pace down the valley, but by the time I reached Gilbert’s Bridge I realised I would have no problems catching the train so I was able to enjoy the descent and the sunshine through lovely Glen Tilt. The weather was very changeable on this walk, even more so than the day before when I’d also thought it had been changeable. I was frustrated that I was not able to reach all three Munros because I was so tired, which has been a common complaint for me over the last couple of years in Scotland, and I don’t know what the answer is. The ridge on Carn Liath was gloriously narrow and a pleasure to walk along but it was woefully short, while Braigh Coire Chruinn-bhalgain seemed much broader, and what I saw of Carn nan Gabhar didn’t seem special. A return in better weather is required before I can properly pass judgement, but it’s always great to be at the top of a mountain.

Loch Faskally and Ben Vrackie

Sunday 25th May 2014

On the first day of my annual holiday in Scotland I thought I’d start with an easy walk to ease myself into the start of two weeks. I wouldn’t go up any mountains on this first day, but instead I would do a nice, easy walk around Loch Faskally, which is a narrow reservoir near to the tourist town of Pitlochry. I was in Pitlochry for the first time last year and loved the place despite a fleeting visit so decided to start my holiday there this year. I had decided that I needed a bit of time to rid myself of the stresses and strains of working life before starting to do some hard walking in Scotland, but as always things didn’t go according to plan and I couldn’t resist going up a mountain. The day before this walk I travelled up to Scotland on the train, and since I didn’t get to Pitlochry until twenty past three I didn’t have time to do anything except look around the Blair Athol Distillery. Incidentally I was the only person from Britain on the tour, everyone else was from overseas, and I was the only one who’d been around a distillery before – I’ve been around loads!

To start my walk the day after I descended through the town down to the River Tummel and, while the ground was very wet indicating that it had just been raining, it had fortunately stopped just before I left the youth hostel. Upon crossing the river I turned right and followed signs for the Killiecrankie Path, one of a number of good, way-marked routes in the area around Pitlochry. A pleasant walk beside the river took me past the Festival Theatre until the huge Pitlochry Dam came into view, but of more interest to me was the fish ladder that enables migrating Salmon to bypass the dam on their way to the spawning grounds beyond. The path led me up beside thirty four pools that gradually climb all the way up to the top of the dam with Loch Faskally behind it and the pleasant walk continued past a small grove of Rhododendron until I reached the busy trunk road of the A9. There I turned onto a quiet lane that runs alongside the loch for a long way, passing under the A9 at the point where the trunk road soars over Loch Faskally, while I continued drearily walking along the road for seemingly many miles.

The walk on the road was so long that I lost track of where I was on the map eventually becoming completely confused and totally misreading the map. Even after passing the imposing arch that marks the road to Clunie Power Station I still failed to realise where I was, even though the power station is clearly marked on the map. Fortunately the signs directing the Killiecrankie Path knew where they were and they unerringly encouraged me to continue along the road until eventually I reached the Linn of Tummel and finally I came to my senses. On this side of the river I found a steep, narrow, and at the times, muddy path that led me down to the river where the rapids could be explored to my heart’s content, but the wet rocks made me extremely cautious in my exploration. A second path further up the road led to drier rocks that enabled me to get some good views of the river as it thunders over the rocks on its way to Loch Faskally.

Even further along the road was the Coronation Bridge, which I crossed to reach the other side of the River Tummel where an excellent path led me back past the rapids of the Linn of Tummel with better views of the river possible from the path, but access down to the river wasn’t possible due to steep edges. This pleasing woodland path took me back towards Loch Faskally and around a sharp corner to head north alongside the River Garry towards Killiecrankie. After passing Garry Bridge I left the Killiecrankie Path at the point where it leaves the riverside as I crossed the river onto the busy path through the pass that I had walked along last year on my way from Blair Atholl to Pitlochry. On that occasion I had noticed the presence of the Linn of Tummel and decided that I wanted to return to this area to visit the rapids and so this walk was formulated, but I was now proceeding towards the Pass of Killiecrankie and it wasn’t even twelve o’clock yet. So far the day had been relatively easy and immensely relaxing as a result, but completing the circuit of Loch Faskally would see me back in Pitlochry in time for lunch.

Instead I headed north through the Pass of Killiecrankie on the broad path that I had taken last year, stopping near the spectacular railway bridge that straddles Trooper’s Den to explore along the pass where the Battle of Killiecrankie was fought. I was more interested in looking at the wild flowers in the area, but the weather was much poorer than it had been last year with rain now starting to fall briefly as I walked through the pass. I was still unsure what I would do for the rest of the day, so I climbed up to the visitor centre to have my lunch while I tried to decide. There I noticed that the Bealach Path that I had joined to go through the pass and that I had taken last year to go to Pitlochry climbs the hillside above the pass on the western slopes of the Corbett, Ben Vrackie. Despite the changeable weather I decided that I would climb Ben Vrackie, so after lunch I set off along the Bealach Path up a lane that climbs the hillside.

I’d suspected that I would find it hard to resist climbing the 841 metre tall mountain that overlooks Pitlochry and so it proved with a track that provided me with surprisingly easy access up the mountain. The Bealach Path doesn’t reach the summit of Ben Vrackie so at what I thought was the appropriate point I turned off the track and followed a slender path towards the summit, but this turned out not to be the best point as the path soon vanished and I had to make my own way through the heather around Meall na Moine and up steep grassy slopes to the summit of Ben Vrackie. This route wasn’t too difficult, and it meant I wouldn’t have to take the same route in descent as I’d taken in ascent. The views were poor and since it was cold and windy at the top I didn’t stay there for long before joining the clear path that led me very steeply down to Loch a’ Choire. I wasn’t keen on that descent as it was far too steep, and with hindsight I would have preferred to have climbed Ben Vrackie in the opposite direction.

The gradient eases upon reaching Loch a’ Choire, and with the sun coming out it left me with a gloriously sunny descent along a wide track down into Pitlochry. I was astonished by how changeable the weather was on this walk (and it would be no different for the whole two weeks). A lovely, relaxing stroll brought me down through a juniper wood populated by chaffinches that seemed little concerned by my approach. The climb of Ben Vrackie was more tiring than I’d planned for this day, but I’d always suspected that that would be where I’d end up. This was such a lovely day that when I reached Moulin on the edge of Pitlochry I didn’t want the walk to end so I headed off along a path to Black Spout waterfall and the woodland that surrounds it. This walk was as varied as the weather and was such an enjoyable day that it was a great way to start the holiday.

Conistone Dib and Grass Wood

Saturday 26th April 2014

This walk started in the rain, which is always a depressing thing to do because you never believe that it’s ever going to get better and you feel that you’re doomed to walk in the rain all day even though that is actually rarely the case and it wasn’t now, partly because after lunch I caught a bus to go home. For the last walk of my holiday I decided that, mainly due to the weather, but also due to buses not running at convenient times down Wharfdale, I would walk to Grassington. My original hope for this day had been to do a walk further down Wharfdale near Bolton Abbey, but a lack of buses through the valley forced me into doing this smaller and less significant walk instead. My plan was to follow the Dales Way, which I’d followed into Kettlewell the day before, so I set off in the pouring rain along the road until just after passing Scargill House I turned left to walk up Highgate Leys Lane. This track leads all the way onto the high moor, but the Dales Way soon leaves the lane to make its way across a gently contoured hillside past many ancient enclosures to eventually reach the limestone outcrops of Swineber Scar.

The visibility was very poor and the misty scenery was so unappealing I just kept my head down and kept going past the limestone scars, stopping just once, at the top of an outcrop of limestone known as Conistone Pie, but as fascinating as this large rock was, the surroundings were so grey and misty that I didn’t stay very long before resuming my walk along the Dales Way. It wasn’t long until I reached Scot Gate Lane and the top of Conistone Dib, which is an interesting narrow valley full of rocks and with steep grassy slopes, but I was at the top of it. Walkers on the Dales Way bypass this peculiar feature with barely a glance but I wanted to explore it and that entailed carefully climbing down the wet rocks into the valley and then walking all the way down it. There is reportedly a spectacular gorge at the bottom of the valley, but unfortunately I didn’t descend that far, which is a pity and with hindsight I wish I had descended all the way into Conistone.

Instead I climbed back out of the valley and onto the Dales Way to resume my walk south towards Grassington as the rain eventually eased. I passed more limestone features, but I wasn’t finding the scars particularly interesting while an old lime kiln near the path was more successful in drawing my attention. On this holiday I have to admit that I was not impressed with the subtle limestone features of the terrain as it seems I prefer the bolder, more dramatic features of volcanic regions like the Lake District. The botanic features of the landscape, meaning the wild flowers, were by far the biggest draw of the week, and the banks of primroses that I saw in many places were the definite highlight while the limestone scars failed to excite me (however I was impressed with the enormous limestone pavement of Moughton, near Ingleborough, which was a definite highlight despite being there when it was raining).

In a bid to find more wild flowers I turned right once I was off the open access land and headed for Grass Wood, which I’d heard was particularly good for bluebells, however I was disappointed with it. After all the wild flowers that I’d seen on this holiday Grass Wood was unable to compare favourably, though it’s probable that I was just too early and if I’d returned a couple of weeks later I would have seen a stunning display of wild flowers, particularly bluebells. As I made my way through the wood I did see many wild flowers but they were not in the abundant numbers that I had seen in such places as on my first day of this holiday, near Aysgarth Falls. Despite the scarcity of woodland flowers I did think it was a charming wood as I negotiated a course past Gregory Scar and around Dewbottom Scar descending to the road at the bottom of the valley.

In the narrow strip of land between the road and the river I found a much more abundant display of wild flowers including banks of bluebells newly in flower. Primroses and wood anemones were also on display that went some way to reducing my disappointment in Grass Wood. I think my problem is that I’ve seen better, but timing is so critical with woodland flowers that I could come back a week later and find a completely different display. A delightful walk beside the River Wharfe took me through the wood to a set of rapids with the peculiar name of Ghaistrill’s Strid that were fun to explore, while clambering over the rocks beside the river to get a closer look. Continuing alongside the river I eventually rejoined the Dales Way as I walked past Grassington until I reached Linton Falls. After a good look at this waterfall that is marred by old factory buildings beside the river I made my way along a path up into the village of Grassington to the National Park Centre.

There I enquired as to the next bus to Skipton only to learn that I had just missed one and the next was an hour and a half away. My disappointment was further increased by the weather that had promptly cleared now that I had stopped walking to leave glorious sunshine for the rest of the day, however Grassington is not a bad place to spend an hour and half. This walk hadn’t been too bad, especially after the rain stopped, as I did enjoy the end of the walk wandering around Grass Wood and beside the River Wharfe. It might have only been lunchtime but I think I was ready to go home. As for the whole holiday, did I see the gems that I’d been hoping for? I saw a few gems, and not a few waterfalls, but I didn’t appreciate the difficulty in finding those gems. Ultimately the Yorkshire Dales cannot compete with the Lake District or similar places. Pot holes and limestone outcrops might not hold much interest for me, but there are things in the Yorkshire Dales that are really appealing so I'm sure I will be back, even if I have to wait another five years.