Beinn Eighe (East)

Monday 29th August 2016

When I last drove up to Scotland for a walking holiday, in 2010, I stopped in Torridon with the aim of climbing one of the giants of Torridon, Beinn Eighe, however this coincided with bad weather so I descended as soon as I had reached the ridge of this vast mountain, near the Munro Spidean Coire nan Clach. Once I made the decision to take my car to Scotland this time, I immediately thought that I wanted to return to Torridon in order to climb Beinn Eighe in, hopefully, better weather. The day before this walk I’d enjoyed good weather, but unfortunately for this walk the weather had deteriorated. After driving from Ratagan Youth Hostel, where I had spent the night, I parked in the village of Kinlochewe and set off in weather that didn’t seem too bad, however I knew that the weather was forecast to worsen later in the day. Rather than repeating the walk that I’d attempted six years ago I was going to do the walk that in Ralph Storer’s seminal guidebook, “100 Best Routes on Scottish Mountains”, is titled Beinn Eighe (East). This walk involves a circuit of Coire Domhain including a traverse of the fearsome pinnacles of Bodaich Dubh, the Black Carls, however I was reassured by Ralph Storer that there is “a path that avoids any insurmountable difficulties if necessary”.

The walk started well as I passed through the beautifully wild surroundings of the Beinn Eighe National Nature Reserve with heather and devil’s bit scabious covering the ground below many small trees that were attempting to establish themselves in this windy, exposed valley. Ahead of me the white stone topped peaks of the eastern end of Beinn Eighe stood proudly, beckoning me on and after swinging right to come alongside the Allt a’Chuirn the Black Carls themselves tauntingly came into view. I had an enjoyable walk on an excellent path that took me through the heather moor while the striking mountain ahead lured me on. The climb became a little more interesting when I had to scramble down to a lovely stream beside a waterfall, and after fording that I scrambled back up the bank onto a delightfully narrow ridge that widened with shifting stones underfoot which made for unpleasant walking. It is difficult to get a grip on stony paths like this as it can be like walking on sand, so eventually I veered off the path towards my right hand side of the ridge above the stream that I had crossed earlier.

I could see a clear path climbing the rock wall ahead, but the stony path I was on wasn’t going in that direction, rather towards a seemingly dead end, so I felt justified in following a line of cairns to the right of the ridge that led me all the way up to this excellent path. My way climbed the steep, rocky terrain near to the stream until eventually I turned left to climb steep scree up to the top of a narrow, steep ridge with vertiginous views into Coire Domhain below and up to Sgurr nan Fhir Duibhe, the highest point on this circuit. There was a very cold wind blowing on this exposed ridge that forced me to don my waterproofs before climbing the stony ridge towards the ominous clouds that lay around the summit of the mountain. The abundant rock and strong, cold wind made this climb feel very mountainous, especially when compared with the good weather climbs that I had made in the Cairngorms three months before. It is usually very windy and cold at the top of a mountain so when the weather is not like that it feels odd, and not quite right, even though it is great to be at the top of a mountain in good weather. On this walk the weather felt properly mountainous and I had to battle against both the weather and the gradient until eventually I reached the top of Creag Dhubh.

I had fantastic views north towards Slioch and the Great Wilderness, but towards the heart of Beinn Eighe it seemed very dark and ominous with both the Munros enveloped in cloud. Resolutely I headed off along the ridge towards the Black Carls where, bizarrely, there was hardly any wind passing over an unnamed 929 metre top and to the start of the jagged peaks. Ralph Storer’s assurance that there is a bypass path constantly played through my mind as I approached the impenetrable-looking pinnacles, but once I got there I couldn’t find it. I made an exploratory expedition but I soon started to have difficulties that forced me to turn back until I could make another attempt, but that also proved futile. I don’t have a great head for heads and as I clambered around the rocks the clouds began to descend, which made route-finding even more difficult. In the end I had to return to the start of the Black Carls where I admitted defeat and accepted that I was going to have to descend the way that I had come. In mountain walking one must always be prepared to abandon the walk and turn back if the weather or the terrain demands it.

On the reassuringly flat ridge to Creag Dhubh I stopped, relaxed, caught my breath back and had my lunch. After eating I started my descent and was once again I was blasted by the same strong, cold winds that had whipped up at me during my ascent. At the foot of the scree, in Leathad Buidhe, I stopped for a rest to absorb the awesome rock scenery, and while watching a pair of ptarmigan I thought I could feel a few drops of rain so I put on all my waterproofs even though it didn’t actually start raining until much later in the day. Ironically during my descent I noticed that the clouds had lifted again from around the Black Carls, but it wasn’t really the weather that had stopped me on this occasion. The giants of Torridon terrified me when I was first visited them in 2009 as I am not good with heights, and this is what ultimately turned me back. If I had been able to find the bypass path I may have been able to have completed the walk as planned, but I enjoyed the climb up the dramatic-looking mountain and now I got to do that same path again with the views east ahead of me. I prefer to look on the positives of this walk and I loved being in the great rock landscape around Creag Dhubh with the tremendous views north. Creag Dhubh may not even qualify as a Munro Top (it is lower than the unnamed 929 metre top, which is also not a Munro Top), but to me on this walk it was as great a mountain as any.

Gleouraich and Spidean Mialach

Sunday 28th August 2016

I first started planning this holiday in Scotland last year before I even went to the Outer Hebrides. The original idea was to start walking along the Cape Wrath Trail that runs from Fort William all the way along the west coast of the Highlands to the north-western tip of Scotland at Cape Wrath. The plan evolved so that I would walk only as far as Glen Shiel on this holiday, about a quarter of the way along the trail, and climb as many mountains as I could on the way. Later I settled on starting from Glenfinnan and not Fort William, and to do the holiday at the end of May this year, but then problems with the trains forced me to radically change my plans and I went to the Cairngorms at the end of May instead. When I was finishing that holiday it wasn’t the Western Highlands that I was looking at for late summer but a return to the Western Isles to walk along the new Hebridean Way. However that trail has not been officially opened yet so I thought it best to wait another year for that and I turned my attention back to the Western Highlands. My memory of carrying a heavy rucksack was fresh in my mind when I booked this holiday so I decided to take my car to Scotland, which I hadn’t done since 2010.

Therefore, after an overnight stay in Crianlarich, I drove along the narrow twisty road through Glen Garry that led me to Loch Quoich where I parked at the foot of Gleouraich (this tongue-twister is probably best pronounced Glaw-reech), which is one of the mountains that had always been on my plan for this holiday. The walk started with a soaking while battling through the overgrown dew-covered rhododendrons that lined the road. Once I emerged onto the open hillside I was immediately awestruck by the stunning array of mountains that lie at the western end of Loch Quoich. The mountains of the Rough Bounds of Knoydart looked spectacular in the bright, sunny conditions clustered at the far end of the loch and kept drawing my attention all day even after the weather deteriorated. The footpath, which Ralph Storer describes as ‘perhaps the finest stalkers’ path in the country’, zigzags brilliantly up the hillside and was a pleasure to walk along, while that view kept my eyes away from the ground at my feet.

The purple flowers of heather and devil’s-bit scabious covered the ground as I sweated in the warm weather up the excellent path, stopping frequently to admire the view and wipe the sweat off my brow. Unfortunately the good weather didn’t last as clouds soon descended over the mountain and my views became restricted, even at its best, to the steep, grassy slopes below me that led all the way down to Loch Quoich. The path brought me to a narrow ridge and kept to the loch-side of the ridge around the grassy hump of Druim Seileach, and after crossing the saddle beyond I plunged into thick clouds as I climbed the steep, stony slopes of Geouraich. Upon reaching the western top I was astonished to suddenly come out of the clouds and have a clear view of the summit a short distance ahead of me along the ridge with Glen Loyne north of the mountain. Thick cloud continued to hold onto the western slopes, but to the east that cloud was just about high enough to afford me with views along the gloriously rocky ridge and down into the fabulously craggy northern corries.

I immediately started to think about lunch, however there wasn’t a breath of wind and this time of the year if I stopped I was soon plagued by midges, so I kept going, over the Munro and along the ridge. This was a great walk along the ridge with rock constantly underfoot and lots of interesting variations while the ridge undulated around the deeply indented crag-filled corries. The best hill-walking is ridge walking and the ridge between Gleouraich and Spidean Mialach is one of the best, but woefully far too short. It wasn’t long before I reached Creag Coire na Fiar Bhealaich where an excellent path zigzags ingeniously and gloriously down a steep, rocky slope. I loved this ridge and the path along it, but I longed for better weather so that I could fully appreciated the mountain views little knowing that this was going to be the best weather that I was going to get during my entire two weeks in Scotland. Despite the dull views from the thick cloud overhead, I had enjoyed my walk along the craggy ridge and as I reached the col, Fiar Bhealaich, the sun finally came out again just in time for my steep climb up the slopes of Spidean Mialach.

Once the terrain eased I made my way along the interesting ridge over several tops before finally arriving at the Munro of Spidean Mialach. A clear path can be seen leading from the summit steeply down the south-western slopes, however this is not up to the same high standards as the ascent path. The path disappeared into bogs that were a real trial for me to traverse. The guide book writers all recommend crossing the Allt a’ Mheill to the col with Meall nan Carn where another stalkers’ path completes the descent, however a wide track has recently been built up to a small dam on the Allt a’ Mheill for a small hydroelectric plant. This proved too tempting a lure and so I made my way through the boggy terrain in increasingly windy weather down to the dam where an easy, though steep, descent down the track led me to the road a kilometre east of my car. This was an awesome walk in weather that was probably as good as you can expect in the West Highlands. These two mountains make a great walk and was a great way to start my holiday in Scotland.