A poem by Richard Allsopp

• Pronunciation:             Bray-ree-erch
• Translation:                  Dappled Neck
• Total distance:             22.2km
• Total time:                    7hrs 16mins
• Total ascent:                 1337m
• Weather:                       Dull, damp with low cloud. Increasing wet as the day progressed.
• Start / end location:   Aviemore Ski Centre access road. Car park on the left hand side of the road 2km further up the glen from the Reindeer Centre – see map link below. [OS Map Sheet 36  – Grid Ref: NH 986 074]
• Map:                              A map of route can be found here – it may take a few moments to load into a separate window.

Success at last - Elaine and Cameron on the summit of Braeriach - their 283rd and final Munro

We could hardly believe that the time had come for us to tackle our 283^rd and final Munro of our eleven-month long Highland odyssey. As we travelled to Aviemore the day before our ultimate climb we had mixed emotions – excitement for a job well done and a tinge of sadness that the adventure would be soon be coming to an end.

With some family at the Glenmore Lodge the evening before our final Munro climb

The team photo at the start of the Braeriach ascent

After a late night socialising with our family and friends at the Glenmore Lodge we headed back to our campsite for a good night’s sleep. Thankfully we had prepared our rucksacks earlier in the day so that there was less preparation to do in the morning.

We rendezvoused with friends and family in the morning at the car park a couple of kilometres from the Glenmore Lodge on the access road to the Aviemore / Cairngorm Ski Centre.

At around 08.15 the eight of us who planned to tackle the ascent of Braeriach got organised, whilst a few family well-wishers got ready to wave us off. Joining us today on the walk were our good friends Neil and Laura, Robin and Lara (both couples live near us in the Midlands) and Laura’s Mum and Dad, Anne and Dave (who came out with us back in May when we climbed our 150^th & 151^st Munros: Sgor Gaoith (1118m) & Mullach Clach a’ Bhlair (1019m)).

Cameron and the rest of the team negotiate the boulder field in the Chalamain Gap

We crossed the ski access road from the car park and immediately descended into a pine-tree lined little ravine. The visibility was poor in the low-hanging mist, but the temperature was quite warm and so we were all walking without our jackets on. At the base of the ravine we crossed the Allt Creag an Leth-choin burn by a sturdy walkers’ bridge before we climbed directly up the opposite (west) side of the ravine onto the sloping plateau above. We followed an excellent footpath along the rim of the ravine, which then veered round to the west for 400m as it by-passed the base of the north ridge of Creag an Leth-choin (Lurchers Crag – 1053m). Once we got beyond the ridge the path turned to the SW and we slowly climbed an easy-angled glen towards the Chalamain Gap.

Elaine is still smiling as she negotiates the boulder field in the Chalamain Gap

The Chalamain Gap, which is formed between the north ridge we had just by-passed and the little peak of Creag a’ Chalamain, is a long narrow ravine littered with a random jumble of huge rocky blocks and boulders. The steep sides of the “Gap” were very craggy but not too high, although we couldn’t really see their true extent because of the low mist.  In our direction of travel the floor of the Gap ascended slightly, which made our passage through it a bit easier (generally more straightforward ascending rocky crags than descending them). That said, crossing the Chalamain Gap boulder field in either direction is a tedious affair even for the most able bodied. Unfortunately, Robin had a bit of a lower limb injury and the “Gap” proved to be just a bit too rough for him. He and Lara, therefore, decided that it was best to retire and turned back … but not before he’d succeeded on getting all the way through the “Gap” – only to turn around and do it all again!

Neil and Elaine nearing the summit of Braeriach

After exiting the “Gap” we descended across a short expanse of gently sloping ground before we then descended in a diagonal traverse into the Lairig Ghru – perhaps the most famous pass (glen) cutting north / south through the Cairngorm massif. We reached the base of the Lairig Ghru, crossed the burn and immediately ascended the opposite side, which brought us out at the base of the NNW ridge of Sron na Lairige. In deteriorating wet weather we followed a reasonable path up this ridge and only had a few boggy sections to negotiate before we arrived at point 1025 (m). We continued to follow the path upwards where the ridge began to broaden out above the rim of Coire Gorm – a rather shallow little corrie. We passed just to the east of the subsidiary top of Sron na Lairige (1180m) and then climbed a little further to reach unnamed top at 1184m before we dropped a little to the col beyond. We crossed the col and climbed a little to the SSW before we turned due west and ascended a narrower ridge to reach Braeriach’s summit cairn at 1296m or 4,252ft. We had succeeded in reaching our 283^rd Munro summit!

The medal ceremony on the summit of Braeriach

Despite the rain, Elaine and I took off our waterproof jackets and rummaged through our rucksacks to find T-shirts that we had specially designed to commemorate climbing our last Munro and hence completing our challenge. As we wrestled to put them on in the damp conditions, Laura presented us with two brilliant medals that she’d commissioned for the occasion. What a fantastic surprise it was for us.

I had carried up two bottles of bubbly wrapped in wine cooler bags and bits of old foam mats and so we all enjoyed a couple of glasses of bubbly and some of my Mum’s homemade shortbread. Neil then managed to set up a self-timed photo of us all in the less than ideal weather conditions. The rain got steadily heavier and looked set for the day so we didn’t linger longer than necessary on the summit before we gladly retreated back down the east ridge.

Success at last - Elaine and Cameron on the summit of their 283rd and final Munro - Braeriach in the Cairngorms

We retraced our steps to the Chalamain Gap, where we found the slightly descending course through the soaked and lichen-covered boulders to be fairly treacherous and care was definitely needed. After exiting the “Gap” and rounding the base of the Creag an Leth-choin we came across a large herd of reindeer. The reindeer are managed but, like sheep, are left to roam freely across the high moors of the Cairngorm National Park. Unlike our native red deer the reindeer appeared very friendly and inquisitive and a few even walked quite nonchalantly between Dave and me.

The team photo on Braeriach - (L-R) - Anne, Dave, Elaine, Laura, Cameron and Neil

As we neared the car park we were all welcomed back by the rest of the team – it was a great feeling knowing that we’d completed the full round of the Munros. The only disappointment was that the rain hadn’t let up and we were all absolutely soaked and fairly hungry. So we didn’t hang about at the car park for too long but decided instead to save further celebrations until we all met again in the evening at Glenmore Lodge.

We went our separate ways, some back to a chalet in Dalraddy, others to a chalet by Glenmore, and Elaine and I back to our ‘van. We met again at Glenmore Lodge after hot showers and refreshments and had a lovely meal and a great evening.

Elaine and I agreed that we’d had a fantastic end to our mammoth journey and really appreciated being able to share our last day with our friends and family. It is now time for us to look forward to our next adventure …

A reindeer wanders nonchalantly in-between Cameron and Dave as they descend the path from Braeriach	Quite surreal seeing a herd of reindeer in Scotland - but they are there in the Cairngorm National Park
A trio of very wet walkers complete the Braeriach ascent - (L-R) Neil, Laura and Elaine	Back at the car-park after a wet ascent of Braeriach - our 283rd and final Munro
A kilted mountaineer celebrates successfully completing the round of 283 Munros	Friends and family help Elaine and Cameron celebrate at Glenmore Lodge after their successful completion of the Munros
Back at Fort William with Cameron's Mum and Dad	Close-up of ScotlandInView Munro completion medal
ScotlandInView T-shirt and Medal (front)	ScotlandInView T-shirt and Medal (back)
Distribution of monthly Munros climbed	Angus the Highland Cow - our travelling companion throughout the year!

We would be really grateful if you could help support this very worthwhile charity by sponsoring us to climb our last Munro. Donations can be made through the JustGiving website – simple, fast and totally secure.

[Your details are safe with JustGiving – they’ll never sell them on or send unwanted emails. Once you donate, they’ll send your money directly to the charity and make sure Gift Aid is reclaimed on every eligible donation by a UK taxpayer.]

In the past, we’ve participated each year in a few charity events like the Race For Life (5 km run), Pedal For Scotland (cycle 55 miles from Glasgow to Edinburgh), or the Moonwalk (half marathon walk through the night).

This year, however, we’ve been busy climbing all 283 Munros, and so haven’t been able to take part in any such events. Therefore, we thought it would be fitting to climb our last Munro in aid of charity and have chosen Cancer Research UK – a charity that means a great deal to us, and one that we have supported for many years. We would obviously like to raise as much as possible and a sum that reflects our year-long challenge, and so would be really grateful if you would be kind enough to sponsor us.

We started our Munro bagging on 6 November 2010 and are currently on target to complete our final mountain on 1 October 2011. It has been a tremendous “once in a lifetime” experience, but has also proved to be very tough, as the weather conditions have been far from ideal.

By the time we’ve climbed our 283^rd Munro we will have:

• walked a total of 2,717 km, and
• climbed a total of 170,500 m – equivalent to over 19 ascents of Everest from sea-level

If you can, please support Cancer Research UK by sponsoring us – your support and generosity is very much appreciated.

With kind regards and thanks - Elaine and Cameron

• Pronunciation:             Skoor nern Gillian
• Translation:                  (probably) Peak of the Gullies, but usually taken to mean Peak of the Young Men
• Total distance:              11.0km
• Total time:                     4hrs 50mins
• Total ascent:                  980m
• Weather:                        Dull and overcast with blustery showers and low cloud cover.
• Start / end location:     Roadside parking beside the Sligachan Hotel (A863 / A860 junction). [OS Map Sheet 32 – Grid Ref: NG 486 298]
• Map:                                 A map of route can be found here – it may take a few moments to load into a separate window.

A rare break in the clouds reveals Sgurr nan Gillean, with Am Basteir and Bruach na Frithe still slightly hidden

Our penultimate Munro found us leaving the car park by the Sligachan Hotel in dreary overcast weather, which was a real shame as an ascent of Sgurr nan Gillean in fine weather offers some truly remarkable views. Nevertheless, we were on a very tight schedule and could not wait for a favourable weather window.

Looking down Glen Sligachan from near the start of the path to Sgurr nan Gillean

From the hotel car park we took the path that soon crossed the Allt Dearg Mor burn at a recently constructed footbridge. We continued to follow the path over some gently sloping ground until it reached the NW bank of the Allt Dearg Beag burn. We walked along the bank for a short distance where we passed a couple of small waterfalls before then arriving at a junction in the path. We took the left hand branch and crossed the burn by another conveniently placed footbridge. This path now climbed round the base of a small sloping rib that formed the eastern arm of the Bhasteir Gorge. We continued on our path and descended slightly into Coire Riabhach where we crossed the base of the corrie until we were below and directly in line with Sgurr nan Gillean’s Pinnacle Ridge. Climbing Pinnacle Ridge is a magnificent route, and as its name suggests, involves ascending and descending several pinnacles (some abseiling is required). Knight’s Peak, at the top end of the ridge, is the fourth and final pinnacle before a short rock climb brings you out directly on the summit of Sgurr nan Gillean. [This was a route that Elaine and I climbed in 2004 – absolutely excellent.]

The Pinnacle Ridge on Sgurr nan Gillean - a magnificent route that we climbed in 2004 - photo taken June 2011

Today, however, we continued passed the base of Pinnacle Ridge, climbing quite steeply up a scree-covered path on the southern enclosing wall. From here, we skirted round some crags before entering another much more boulder-strewn corrie. We negotiated our way to the back of this corrie and climbed another scree-covered path to eventually reach the southeast ridge of Sgurr nan Gillean.

Once we got onto the ridge we stayed close to the crest where the going was easy at first. Soon we encountered our first real obstacle in the form of a stepped crag that blocked the ridgeline. We climbed passed this crag using an obvious crack that ran vertically up the face and provided excellent hand and foot holds. Even in the damp conditions the rock provided us with a very reassuring grip. We continued on the crest until yet another crag blocked our passage. This time we used a small chimney on the right to breach the crag – and once again the rock provided us with clean positive holds wherever we needed them.

(L-R) Garbh Bheinn, Clach Glas and Bla Bheinn from high on Coire Riabhach north of Sgurr nan Gillean

A further short section of fractured blocks brought us to the last real test of the ascent: a smooth, sloping, red slab that cannot be avoided and that perches airily on the ridgeline and is extremely exposed on both sides. The first time that we did this route back in the late ‘90s, Elaine and I passed an elderly gentleman just before we got to this final part of the ascent – which was literally only metres from the summit. On that occasion, the weather was glorious and we both confidently got ourselves onto the slab and delicately walked across on excellent high-friction rock – although, it is fairly exposed because peripherally you can see the steep drop-offs on both sides of you! Just beyond the slab we rejoined the narrow ridge and quickly reached the tiny summit. A few rock climbers were arriving after climbing various rock routes such as Pinnacle Ridge. We waited on the summit for a little while and then retraced our steps back to the red slab and found the elderly chap sitting on a rock at the lower side of the slab. I asked if he was okay and he told me that this was his third attempt to climb to the summit (over many years) and he’d never managed to get himself over the red slab. I offered to help him by returning to the summit and getting one of the climbers with a rope to protect the chap whilst I guided him over. He (and I) made it to the summit – and needless to say he was simply overjoyed. I chaperoned him back down and he rewarded us with a beer at the Sligachan Hotel. It had been great seeing the elation on the chap’s face when he finally faced his fear of crossing the slab and then summiting the peak.

Today, we once again crossed the red slab without incident – despite it being damp and misty – and continued on the narrow ridge to Sgurr nan Gillean’s tiny summit and cairn at 964m, or 3,163ft. This time the summit was deserted, very much like most other Munro summits that we’ve visited this year. The wind was fairly blustery, and with the intermittent showers and almost zero visibility, we hastily retreated from the summit back to the red slab. We crossed the sloping slab and then followed our route of ascent all the way back to the hotel, where we stopped for a hot coffee. As we sipped our coffee and stared outside the cloud base lifted just enough for us to glimpse and appreciate Sgurr nan Gillean’s truly alpine profile.

We returned to the ‘van and prepared for our journey to Aviemore in the Cairngorms for our 283^rd and final Munro ascent.

• Pronunciation:             Skoor Alasdair; Skoor Vee Chonneech; Skoor Jerrack
• Translation:                  Alexander’s Peak (named after the first recorded ascender: Alexander Nicholson); MacKenzie’s Peak (named after John MacKenzie, an early Cuillin guide and one of the first ascenders); Red Peak
• Total distance:              14.5km
• Total time:                     8hrs 0mins
• Total ascent:                  1300m
• Weather:                        Bright, but still quite windy.
• Start / end location:     Parking on the Glen Brittle road opposite the Glen Brittle (climbing) Hut. [OS Map Sheet 32 – Grid Ref: NG 412 215]
• Map:                                 A map of route can be found here – it may take a few moments to load into a separate window.

Looking from Glen Brittle campsite towards Coire Lagan - Sgurr Mhic Choinnich, Thearlaich and Alasdair can be seen in shadow (L-R)

We managed a day off yesterday, which gave us plenty of time to drive over to Skye for two days of climbing before needing to rush back to the mainland to rendezvous with family and friends in Aviemore for our final Munro ascent on Saturday 1 October.

We parked the ‘van overnight at a spot that we’d used when we last visited Skye in June and took the car down the twisty Glen Brittle single-track road. Not far from the coast we parked by the climbing hut (just 1km passed the SYHA hostel). For this trip we had to pack some of our rock climbing gear, which included a 50m rope, harnesses and helmets each, plus a small selection of slings and climbing hardware.

The waterfall pouring out of Loch Coir a' Ghrunnda

We set off walking along the single-track road before then passing through the Glen Brittle campsite by the seashore. The start of the route from the campsite was exactly as we’d done before when we climbed Sgurr Dubh Mor and Sgurr nan Eag in June. At the far end of the campsite a well-maintained path led east up the gently sloping hillside. After around 800m the path divided with the one to the left continuing east into Coire Lagan, and the one to the right, which we took, veering ESE around the foot of the huge Sron na Ciche buttress. Once we reached the 300m contour the path arced NE into the lower section of Coir’ a’ Ghrunnda.

We stayed close to the left hand edge of the corrie – right up against the steep crags on the eastern face of Sron na Ciche – from where it was easier to breach the headwall cliff. Reaching the upper corrie required a bit of “hands-on” scrambling over the cliff face – but it was great fun, always straightforward, and well worth the effort when we arrived. Once we’d overcome the cliff barrier we stood at the SW shore of the turquoise blue Loch Coir’ a’ Ghrunnda. On the opposite three sides of the loch stood the scree shattered peaks of Sgurr Sgurmain, Sgurr Alasdair, Sgurr Thearlaich, Sgurr Dubh an Da Bheinn and finally Sgurr nan Eag: all connected by the high traverse of the southern section of the Cuillin ridge.

We circled clockwise round the shore of the loch from “six to ten o’clock” to where a small stream flowed in. Here we left the shoreline and climbed over some easy-angled rock slabs as we headed for the Bealach Coir a’ Ghrunnda between the peak of Sgurr Sgumain (947m) on the right, and the top of the Sron na Ciche ridge on the left. As we neared the bealach we were confronted by a section of large boulders and mixed scree, which we had to overcome. Once we reached the bealach we could see our next objective: the scramble ascent of Sgurr Sgurmain’s south ridge.

The ridgeline ascent towards the summit of Sgurr Alasdair

This scramble proved very straightforward on the high-friction Cuillin gabbro and we were soon enjoying the views from the summit. To the north the delicious knife-edge ridge connecting Sgurr Thearliach (just behind Sgurr Alasdair) to Sgurr Mhic Choinnich and then onwards to the Innaccessible Pinnacle on Sgurr Dearg was presented in all of its precipitous and craggy glory. To the WSW, the mighty north face of Sron na Ciche extended magnificently down hundreds of vertical metres to Coire Lagan’s valley floor. Midway along the Sron na Ciche cliffs ‘The Cioch’ jutted directly out from the near vertical rock-face. This huge appendix of rock, rather like an upturned nose, was made famous outside of climbing circles by the 1986 Hollywood movie ‘The Highlander’ starring Christopher Lambert (a Frenchman playing a Scottish Highlander) and Sean Connery (a Scotsman playing an aristocratic Spaniard). The two men practiced duelling with swords on the top of The Cioch … it was a very spectacular setting.

Over a decade ago (May 2000) Elaine and I climbed onto The Cioch from the corrie floor below via a couple of rock climbing routes with our friend Mick. We didn’t get back to the car until nearly 01.00 in the morning, having had to abseil through a waterfall in near darkness. That was an epic!

Elaine - roped up and ready to climb up towards the summit of Sgurr Alasdair

From the summit of Sgurr Sgumain we turned our attention to the first real obstacle of the day: descending from the summit and crossing the ‘Bad Step’ before re-ascending on the other side to reach the summit of Sgurr Alasdair. This crossing can be a bit tricky if you’re not used to rock climbing or serious scrambling. However, we’ve both climbed this route before and had all of the necessary equipment (and more) to safely cross. We quickly stepped into our rock climbing harnesses, put on our helmets and sorted out the rope and climbing hardware. Elaine anchored herself to the rock and belayed me as I set off with the rope. It turned out to be extremely easy and I ended up only putting in a couple of pieces of protection (nuts) just because I had them with me. I made myself save (anchored to the rock) and Elaine then followed me across the gap.

The route to the summit of Sgurr Alasdair was then a straightforward scramble, but for speed we remained roped together and moved in what is called an ‘alpine style’: where much of the 50m rope was coiled over our shoulders and only a short 10-12m section extended between us.

Close-up of Sgurr Alasdair (highest) then Sgurr Thearlaich & Sgurr Mhic Choinnich - the Great Stone Chute lies between Alasdair & Thearlaich

We quickly reached the summit of Sgurr Alasdair at 992m or 3,255ft: the highest peak in the Cuillin range. The views were stunning, especially as we looked south to the two Munros of Sgurr Dubh Mor and Sgurr nan Eag that we’d climbed earlier in the season.

We scrambled down to the top of the Great Stone Chute, a horrendous scree-filled cleft running for several hundred metres from just below Sgurr Alasdair’s summit to Coire Lagan’s valley floor. It is the normal walkers’ approach for bagging Sgurr Alasdair. I’ve only ever climbed it once when it was snow-covered, which possibly made it a bit easier.

From the top of the Great Stone Chute we looked east to the rocky side-wall of Sgurr Thearlaich’s (984m) thin summit ridge. To gain access to the ridge we had to turn SSE (away from our ultimate direction of travel) and descended about 20m on a scree path until we found a notch in the rock-wall that we could climb. We climbed up this notch (exposed but straightforward) onto the thin spine-like ridge, where Sgurr Thearlaich’s summit was only a few metres away. An airy scramble NNW along the spine took us to another steep downward headwall that bottomed-out at the Bealach Mhic Choinnich. Literally, only a few tens of metres away on the opposite side of this bealach was the summit of our second Munro, Sgurr Mhic Choinnich.

The bealach can be reached by a short abseil starting to the left of our position or a tricky down-climb a little further back and to our right. We chose the latter and found that the hardest problem was finding the right route. We were, however, still roped together, so this provided a degree of protection to one another as we down-climbed in short pitches to arrive at the top of the bealach.

Sgurr Mhic Choinnich, like its neighbour we’d just crossed, consisted of a thin spine-like ridge. From the south, ascending to the summit could be done via the rock climbing ascent of ‘King’s Chimney’ (grade ‘Difficult’), or as we chose to do, by first traversing along ‘Collie’s Ledge’ on the west (left) side and then doubling back to scramble an easier route from the north. We easily located Collie’s Ledge from our position at the top of the bealach and, still roped together, followed it across the airy and exposed west face of Sgurr Mhic Choinnich. This traverse made you feel like you were hovering directly above Coire Lagan – which we pretty much were! The ledge took us to the north side of the peak from where we scrambled up the north ridge to the precipitous summit at 948m or 3,110ft.

We then scrambled back down the north ridge to the top of Collie’s Ledge where we then followed a fairly obvious route downward to reach the top of An Stac Screes. From here, we followed the line (on the west) formed between the top of the screes and the base of the buttress walls of An Stac, before then continuing by climbing up on loose stones and boulders to the base of the Inaccessible Pinnacle. The Inaccessible Pinnacle, or ‘In Pin’ as it’s affectionately known, is a shark-fin blade of rock that juts proud of the steep WSW ridge of Sgurr Dearg. The summit of this blade is 8m higher than its host peak, and so claims the Munro status. It is the only Munro that requires rock-climbing experience to conquer – although the actual climbing is only at a low grade. The setting, however, is very exposed and exciting!

Just like a shark-fin seen from the side, one of the ridges on the In Pin’s blade of rock is easier-angled than the other. This easier-angled ridge began on the east side, which was from our direction of approach. I climbed up the rock-face on the south (left) side just beyond the base of the ridge to quickly reach the ridge’s crest. It was very blustery on the crest, which I then scrambled up to about 2/3^rd height before I moved slightly to the right and onto the north face. I only placed a couple of pieces of climbing protection, as the technicality of the climb was very low. I soon reached the summit stance, which had a large block of rock perched on top. I made myself safe and called for Elaine to climb, which she did easily and quickly. We each scrambled to the top of the perched block at 986m or 3,235ft, and then back down to our stance at its base. To descend we simply abseiled (about 15-18m) off the vertical west wall onto a gently inclined series of rocky slabs that led to the top of Sgurr Dearg (978m). At the top of Sgurr Dearg we took off our climbing harnesses and helmets and packed them, along with our other climbing paraphernalia, into our rucksacks.

From the top we descended SW to pick up the path along the ridge formed between Coire na Banachdich in the north and Coire Laggan in the south. This ridge turned more westward and broadened out into a wide slope as we descended through yet more loose rock and scree. We continued to descend on a twisting path until we were just north of Loch an Fhir-bhallaich, where we then reached the path running out of Coire Lagan back towards the climbing hut in Glen Brittle (and our parked car).

• Pronunciation:             Larrer Vane (usually referred to as Larven)
• Translation:                  Hoof Mountain
• Total distance:             25.5km
• Total time:                    9hrs 14mins
• Total ascent:                 1969m
• Weather:                        A beautiful day – sunny, but with gale force winds – especially on the ridges near the summit.
• Start location:               The bothy by Barrisdale Bay on the shores of Loch Hourn – Knoydart. [OS Map Sheet 33 – Grid Ref: NG 872 042]
• End location:                 Car park at Kinlochhourn. [OS Map Sheet 33 – Grid Ref: NG 950 066]
• Map:                                A map of route can be found here – it may take a few moments to load into a separate window.

Beinn Sgritheall from across Loch Hourn

After a horrendously wet and windy day yesterday we were elated to wake to a fine, warm and dry morning – albeit still very blustery. We had breakfast and then split our equipment into the bits and pieces that we needed for the day’s climb and the stuff that could be left at the bothy to be picked up on our return. We said goodbye to Adrian who was planning to walk over the Mam Barrisdale pass to the small township of Inverie on the Loch Nevis coast. There is a lovely inn at Inverie, The Old Forge, which is advertised as the remotest pub in mainland Britain.

The bothy at Barrisdale Bay

Our outing involved no such luxury as a pub, and instead, we crossed the bridge over the River Barrisdale and turned right to follow a path along the south side of the river towards the sea. Once the path reached the sandy coastline it veered SW and began climbing in a zigzag direction up the bracken covered hillside. At around 250m in height we contoured round the nose of the Creag Bheithe ridge and entered the lower reaches of the Coire Dhorrcail. From our vantage point at the lower end of the ridge we were rewarded with outstanding views north across Loch Hourn to the tiny townships of Corran and Arnisdale on the Glenelg peninsular. Both of these townships were backed by the impressive profile of Beinn Sgritheall (974m Munro). Looking to the ENE we saw along the length of the narrower section of Loch Hourn and the route that we’d taken a couple of days earlier to reach Barrisdale Bay from Kinlochourn.

Cameron near the start of the glen between Ladhar Bheinn (R) and Stob a' Choire Odhair (out of shot)

We turned to face into the glen and were mesmerised by the high corrie cliffs that stretched in a long expansive arc between the summits of Ladhar Bheinn and Stob a’ Chearcaill. To the right of the glen the long NE ridge of Druim a’ Choire Odhair stretched down from the summit of Stob a’ Choire Odhair (960m), which would be our route of ascent. However, we still had to travel another 1.5km along the left hand side (SE side) in order to reach a suitable crossing point of the Allt Coire Dhorrcail burn. As we walked along a good stalkers’ path we were plagued by dozens of deer kegs. Deer kegs are horrible bugs about 5mm in length. When they land on you they resemble little spiders. Usually they begin flying in September looking for hosts (deer) to lay eggs in. When they land on a deer they detach their wings and then lay their eggs beneath the skin. [I bet it sends a shiver down your spin reading this.] The good news is that they only seem to bite deer and not humans, and indeed of the dozens that we’ve had landing on us we have never felt them bite. Nevertheless, they crawl over your clothes and skin and are extremely tough to kill. Sometimes, even though we pinched them very hard between our finger and thumb, they would still continue to crawl after you ‘let go’! Creepy! Once we got clear of the trees and shrubs and into the sunshine (and strong wind) higher in the glen the deer kegs stopped annoying us.

The magnificent cliffs towering above Coire Dhorrcail - Ladhar Bheinn remains hidden on the right

We passed some ruined shielings that were on the opposite side of the burn and then after another few hundred metres further into the glen we found a suitable place to cross. Having crossed the burn without getting our feet wet we climbed the steep grassy flank of the Druim a’ Choire Odhair to arrive at a col on the crest-line. The ridge was a jumble of complicated little crags but the route weaved cleverly around the various natural obstacles. For most of the way up the ridge the prominent feature was the summit dome of Stob a’ Choire Odhair, which was just high enough to block any views of our Munro summit beyond. The ridge narrowed on a few sections, which required us to tread carefully as there was a very strong crosswind always trying to wrong-foot us.

Cameron admires the view east along Loch Hourn from near the summit of Ladhar Bheinn

We climbed the last little steeper section to the top of Stob a’ Choire Odhair and, for the first time, were offered a view of Ladhar Bheinn’s triple summit only a short distance away. A short descent and then a further ascent took us to the easterly summit (and cairn). The highest point, however, was located just a few tens of metres away to the northwest along the rim of mountain’s northern corrie, and was the middle of the three tops at 1020m or 3,346ft. [The third top hosts a dilapidated Trig Point that stands 10m lower than the true summit.]

Beinn Sgritheall (L) and the tiny townships of Arnisdale and Corran from near the summit of Ladhar Bheinn

We lingered on the top to admire the outstanding views in all directions. We were particularly keen to see the pair of Munros that we’d climbed the day before in the atrocious weather and near zero visibility. They certainly looked much more inviting in today’s sunshine.

Had we been staying another night in the bothy we would certainly have chosen to descend SE and follow the line of the cliff escarpment between Ladhar Bheinn and Stob a’ Chearcaill before descending steeply back to the path over Mam Barrisdale. However, we couldn’t afford the time to stay, and so returned to the bothy via our outward route.

Elaine at the summit of Ladhar Bheinn with the long ribbon of Loch Hourn in the background

We arrived back at the bothy at about 15.00 and after brief pause for a snack we organised and repacked our rucksacks for the 11km walk back to Kinlochhourn. We left the bothy at 16.00 and estimated that we’d be back at the car by 19.00 at the latest.

The start of the walk back was fairly uneventful. We did have to stop a couple of times to replenish our fresh water supplies as we were getting a bit dehydrated after our mountaineering day coupled with a long walk back to the car laden with heavy packs in the very warm evening sunshine. We also commented on the strength of the tidal current rushing through the narrowest section of Loch Hourn at Caolas Mor as the tide flowed into the upper reaches of the loch.

Looking west to Ladhar Bheinn as we head out of Barrisdale Bay on the shore of Loch Hourn

We continued along the coast passed the narrowing at Caolas Mor and were less than 1km from the car when we encountered a major problem: the sea-level, perhaps driven by a spring tide, had actually flooded the path in front of us. All that remained above the high-tide level was the top of the dry-stone wall between the path and the sea … and there were several copingstones missing! Because of the steep buttress cliffs there was no alternative easy way around that didn’t involve some hefty ascents and scrambling, so I was left with only two choices: wait from the tide to recede or attempt to cross the ramparts in from of us. Choosing that latter, I was first to carefully tiptoe across. For the most part it was actually straightforward, although I was always conscious that water was quite deep on the seaward side – and certainly above head-height if the worst happened. As I neared the last few metres the crux of the crossing presented itself: a gap of about 2m where all the boulders were submerged about 25cm below the surface. In the middle of this gap a single rocky block stood just a few centimetres below this surface and I called to Elaine that she’d need to get her boots a bit wet (and salty) to make it across.

The route from Barrisdale Bay to Kinlochhourn passes the narrowing of the sea loch by Caolas Mor

I stepped on the submerged block but as I pressed off it rolled to the side and disappeared into the depths on my left hand side. I still don’t know how I didn’t follow it into the sea for a swim, but somehow dipped my other foot into the shallow 25cm-deep side and out again onto the dry-stone wall. A lucky escape, which Elaine couldn’t believe was possible given what had happened. Elaine crossed next and she was left with no alternative but to wade for two quite steps through the shallower section before regaining the wall. We were glad to have passed this obstacle as we were quite a bit behind schedule and twilight was already setting in.

Our first obstacle - seawater floods the path - seaweed floats on the shoreward side

We continued along the dry path and were now only 1/2km from the car.  I was in front as we turned round one of the final bends and was confronted once again with a flooded path. This time there was no rampart of stones to aid our passage. I looked at the little buttress cliff on the right hand side that formed a significant barrier. It was dank and overgrown with slippy moss and lichen. I scrambled up to its base and managed without difficulty to reach its crest. But when I looked down the other side it was very steep. I took off my heavy rucksack and helped Elaine onto the crest. There were two things that looked like they would help us descend the crag: some handy placed pockets in the rock-face, and a sturdy sapling ash tree only about 50cm away. Unencumbered by my rucksack I quickly descended using a combination of tree and rock climbing. Elaine passed down both rucksacks and then followed my descent line. We had made it passed the salt-water lagoon!

Our second obstacle - more seawater flooding - we had to scale the crag on the left

The remainder of the path was dry and in the deepening twilight we arrived back at the car. All that followed was a long and dark drive back to the main road. As we drove we came across quite a few red deer: mainly hinds, but with one little group escorted by its resident stag. We didn’t quite reckon on encountering our third obstacle of the day on our drive home, but as we crossed the long single-track bridge by the side of Loch Quoich a huge highland coo was blocking the road. It did not exactly hurry across the bridge – but it did provide us with an amusing conclusion to a brilliant few days backpacking in the ‘Rough Bounds of Knoydart’.

Our third obstacle - a highland cow blocks the single-track road on the bridge by Loch Quoich

• Pronunciation:            Loonya Vane; Miaowl Vooyuh
• Translation:                 The Sea-swelling Mountain; Yellow Mountain
• Total distance:             20.8km
• Total time:                    7hrs 34mins
• Total ascent:                 1832m
• Weather:                       Absolutely appalling – heavy rain all day with gale force winds. The only consolation was that the wind was noticeably warm.
• Start / end location:   The bothy by Barrisdale Bay on the shores of Loch Hourn – Knoydart. [OS Map Sheet 33 – Grid Ref: NG 872 042]
• Map:                               A map of route can be found here – it may take a few moments to load into a separate window.

Elaine approaching the summit cairn on Luinne Bheinn in very wet and windy conditions

Last night it absolutely poured down with the rain being driven by gale-force winds that pounded on the roof of the bothy. As we lay in our bunks we thought, “here we go again”! This time there was no question of us switching of the alarm and rolling over and going back to sleep: we had two Munros to climb.

We got up and reluctantly began packing for a wet and very windy day on the hills. As we ate breakfast Adrian joined us in the kitchen area and we were really envious when he said that because of the poor weather he was going to stay in and read his book – we really wished that we could do the same.

After delaying our start as long as possible we left the bothy – in the pouring rain – and made our way across the bridge over the River Barrisdale. The river was running very high and our hopes for the day were diminishing as rapidly as the water was coursing beneath the bridge! Having crossed the bridge we continued along the land-rover track before then taking a walkers’ path that climbed up towards Man Barrisdale. As we reached the crest of the bealach we were confronted with ever increasing blustery winds, which didn’t exactly bode well for the remainder of the walk.

The cloud level was not much higher than our position on the bealach at 450m as we left the path and ascended south-easterly around what appeared through the cloud as a steep rocky buttress. Once around the buttress we climbed towards the col at Bachd Mhic an Tosaich. From the col we continued on a line that skirted below the NNW ridge from Luinne Bheinn’s summit. In driving rain and thick cloud we arrived soaked to the skin by the summit cairn at 939m or 3,081ft. The wind was howling with gale-force 50-60mph gusts and I questioned the sense on proceeding to the next Munro summit. Elaine, though, was adamant that we neither had the inclination nor the time to return to bag the second Munro before our completion deadline of 1 October. So, rather reluctantly we continued our journey to the east top at 937m.

Cameron at the summit cairn on Meall Buidhe in very wet and windy conditions - rain on the lens has smudged the photo

The only consolation of the day was that the air temperature was actually quite warm and despite the ferocious wind and the fact that we were soaked we did not feel particularly chilled: it is the wind-chill effect that causes considerable danger in such weather and we thankfully weren’t experiencing it. [As an aside, had the temperature been cooler, I’d have had no hesitation in abandoning the rest of the climb on the grounds of staying safe – deadline or no deadline.] As it was, we descended south from the east summit to reach the first of several cols en route to Meall Buidhe.

Our route took us up a jumble of craggy little cliffs to the top of Meall coire na Gaoithe ‘n Ear before dropping down the other side to reach the Bealach Ile Coire. From the bealach we climbed up the narrowing ENE ridge to reach the summit of Meall Buidhe’s east top (942m). A short arcing NNW around the lip of the rugged northern corrie brought us to our second Munro summit cairn at 946m or 3,104ft. The rain and wind hadn’t let up so far and when I took my camera out of my pocket the lens was soaked and misted up. All that Elaine could do was use her finger to clear the lens – and it shows in the second photograph of the day!

We quickly abandoned the summit and retraced our steps right back to a little shoulder immediately to the SE of Luinne Bheinn’s east top. This involved us having to regain a fair bit of height, but it led to a preferable descent route – especially given there would have been much confusing and tricky ground to cover if we attempted to descend by any other route. From the shoulder at 850m we turned east and scrambled down the wet ridge towards the stalkers’ path at Mam Unndalain. Before we reached the path we deviated north to descend through a small shallow glen. We then followed the path along the south side of the Allt Gleann Unndalain burn. However, I chose to leave the path early to seek a safe crossing over the raging burn at a position higher up its course and before it was joined by several other tributary but equally fiercely flowing burns. This proved to be have been a good call as we managed to find a suitable crossing but were left in no doubt that we’d have struggled to cross any further down stream (where the path is supposed to cross the burn!) Now on the north side of the burn we made our way over a rough section of a few hundred metres before we regained the path that led us all the way back passed the ‘White House’ at Ambraigh and then onto the track back to the bothy.

We were like a pair of drowned rats when we arrived at the bothy and we were so glad not to have been staying in a tent – somehow the £3 per night seemed extremely good value for money. We got in, hung up all our equipment and changed into a dry set of clothes. Adrian was quick to confirm that he thought us slightly mad – I’d prefer to think that we were ‘hard-core’ … but possibly Adrian was closer to the truth!

• Total distance:             11km
• Total time:                    2hrs 45mins
• Total ascent:                 415m
• Weather:                       Bright, clear and warm.
• Start / end location:    Car park at Kinlochhourn. Kinlochhourn lies 22 miles along a single-track road that starts near Invergarry. The road becomes especially narrow, twisty and steep over the last mile of so. There is a £2 charge for parking overnight! [OS Map Sheet 33 – Grid Ref: NG 950 066]
• Map:                                A map of route can be found here – it may take a few moments to load into a separate window.

A few kilometres west of Kinlochhourn as we make our way towards Barrisdale Bay

We’d been continually putting off this backpacking trip to the ‘Rough Bounds of Knoydart’ because we just never got a weather forecast that suggested we’d have two consecutively dry days. However, with only a few days remaining until we were due to rendezvous with our friends to climb our final Munro we simply had run out of time to pick and choose our days – it was literally now or never!

The weather all morning had been a mixture of sunshine and showers, with the latter occupying more time than the former. Nevertheless, the afternoon promised to be a bit brighter and so around 15.00 we began our long drive along the twisting single-track road to reach Kinlochhourn by the head of Loch Hourn. (Actually, the tiny part of this long sea-loch at its head is marked as Loch Beag – the little loch – on the OS map.)

Looking back in the direction of Kinlochhourn from the south shore of Loch Hourn

As we only had our 45 litre capacity winter rucksacks with us on the trip we had struggled quite a bit to pack everything that we’d needed for a couple of nights away: sleeping bags and mats, stoves, pots, dry clothes, food etc. We were left with the dilemma of whether to take a tent or to rely on accommodation at the Barrisdale Bothy being available. We had concluded that given it was nearing the end of September and the weather had been so inclement it was probably worth the risk of leaving the tent in the car. This would save us quite a bit of additional weight – and more importantly, we would have struggled to fit it into our sacks. We were, therefore, content, if a little apprehensive, with our decision.

"Skiary" - a small dwelling on the south side of Loch Hourn

However, when we arrived at the little car park at Kinlochhourn we were dismayed to find more than half a dozen cars parked there. We went into the B&B where we had to pay the £2 overnight parking charge and enquired if the other cars were also being left overnight – which they were, but the lady we spoke to didn’t know where the occupants were staying. We had to rethink our plans. We knew that the bothy could sleep twelve and if each car, including our own, had a couple of occupants, and if everyone stayed at the bothy, then we could find it full. It was now too big a risk to backpack all 11km out to Barrisdale only to find the bothy full, so we reluctantly decided to add the tent to our already full rucksacks. We divided up the additional load between us and tied the bits and pieces onto our sacks using the side compression straps. We left the car park confident at least that one way or another we’d have a roof over our heads.

As we were leaving we got chatting to another chap who’d arrived at the car park around the same time as us. He too, along with his wee dog, was destined for Barrisdale Bothy: we’d never experienced the hills this busy all summer long!

It was 16.00 as we walked along a short section of tarred road on the south side of the loch. Very quickly the road gave way to sturdy walkers’ path. By this time, the weather had brightened considerably and the clouds had broken to reveal large patches of blue sky.

Elaine on the path to Barrisdale Bay

Generally, the path hugged the coastline where it was hemmed in by some reasonably steep-sided cliffs and buttresses. On the other side of the path, the rocky terrain continued the downward trajectory to form craggy underwater cliffs along the loch side. For the first 2km the path ran alongside a dry-stone edge, which on the lochward side disappeared perilously into the depths of the loch. However, the path was in good condition and the going was quite easy – despite the heavy packs.

As we continued westward, the path was forced away from the shoreline to climb over, rather than around, three buttress-like hillocks. Each climb was fairly tiresome under our loads – but we were continually rewarded by ever more stunning views – especially as the sun cast its warming evening glow on the surrounding hills.

Eventually, we reached the point adjacent to the tiny island of Fraoch Eilean, which signalled where the loch widens considerably and forms the start of Barrisdal Bay. Here we changed direction from west to south as we followed the coastline along the east side of the bay. Along this section, the path gave way to a land-rover track that ran for only a few kilometres to link Barrisdale Lodge and Ambraigh (The White House) to a little jetty near Fraoch Eilean.

The view west to Ladhar Bheinn (R) from near Fraoch Eilean (a small island) in Loch Hourn

We caught up with the chap and his dog and the three of us proceeded to the bothy. As we approached we wondered if we’d be forced to pitch our tent for the two nights or if there’d still be room for us. As it turned out there was no one staying at the bothy and so the three of us had it to ourselves. The occupants of the cars back at Kinlochhourn may have been from the ‘hunting and fishing fraternity’ and hence staying at the lodge – we did see at least three folks wandering about in their tweed plus-fours!

The bothy was very comfortable with a room for cooking, two 6-berth rooms for sleeping, and had with running water. There was also a flushing toilet – of sorts. However, this bothy, unlike most of the others that we’d come across on our travels levied a charge for its use of £3 per person per night. Although this is clearly a tiny sum we didn’t really know what it was being put towards: there were notices to say that the running water was unsafe to drink unless boiled and the toilet was absolutely grotty. That said, it did provide a comfortable and dry shelter for the night and we gladly paid our £12 into the honesty box by the old Belfast sink. It also gave us the opportunity to get to know our fellow bothy companion, Adrian from Yorkshire and his 10 month old border terrier ‘Ridley’.

• Pronunciation:            Merle Lon-dye
• Translation:                 Bald Hill of the Wet Place
• Total distance:             28.8km (18km of which were cycled)
• Total time:                   5hrs 47mins
• Total ascent:                1241m
• Weather:                       Mixed. Dull and showery with a few brighter interludes. Very strong gale-force wind on the summit plateau.
• Start / end location:    Forest Enterprise car park 4.5km east of Achnashellach on the A890 road.  [OS Map Sheet 25 – Grid Ref: NH 047 495]
• Map:                               A map of route can be found here – it may take a few moments to load into a separate window.

On the track approaching Glenuaig Lodge with Creag Dhubh Mhor on the right - Maoile Lunndaidh is located further to the right and out of frame

Our starting point for this isolated Munro was from the Forest Enterprise car park by the little hamlet of Craig in Glen Carron. This was now the third time that we’d begun a route from this location. As per the previous two times, we used our mountain bikes to take us to the base of the climb: on this occasion it was around 9km of cycling to reach the start of the walk at Glenuaig Lodge, high up in Gleann Fhiodhaig.

Glenuaig Lodge with Moruisg (Munro) to the left

Our route began by going across the railway track at a private level-crossing before then following the River Carron west for 1km. The track that we were on then crossed the river onto its south side before we branched off to the left and began the short (2.5km) but steep and sustained climb to the track’s high point at just below 300m elevation.  From this position the track, which now followed the course of the Allt a’ Chonais burn, dropped a little as it rounded the south-western flank of Sgurr nan Ceannaichean (915m – but quite recently demoted as a Munro). The track then followed a steady contour as it passed Pollan Buidhe – the place where we’d left our bikes previously to tackle Bidean a’ Choire Sheasgaich (945m) and Lurg Mhor (986m). Along this section the track was heavily rutted and extremely wet and muddy after the prolonged rainfall.

After another 3km of undulating cycling through more boggy puddles we turned a slight bend in the track and caught our first glimpse of the Glenuaig Lodge at the upper end of Gleann Fhiodhaig. We were rewarded with good views of the southern flank of Moruisg (928m) situated to the north of the lodge, and of Carn nam Fiaclan to the south. The latter guarded our objective, Maoile Lunndaidh, as we approached from the west.

The view SW from Glenuaig Lodge towards Bidean an Eoin Deirg (L), Sgurr a Chaorachain (centre) and Sgurr Choinnich (R)

We soon arrived at the lodge, which was actually very spartan compared to many other lodges that we’d seen on our travels. A message taped to one of the windows indicated that hikers and climbers were welcome to shelter in the bothy at the far end of the building. This bothy turned out to be a wooden garden shed that was heavily strapped down to the surrounding ground by wire guy-lines to prevent it from getting “blown away”. We peered inside and there was room for two people (three at a squeeze). However, although it was only a shed, we did notice that the estate had fitted a small electric panel heater … which would make the place very cosy indeed.

Inside Glenuaig Bothy - a tiny wooden shed that provides cosy shelter for two hikers - not us though

We left our bikes at the rear of the bothy and headed SE down some gently sloping ground towards the infant River Meig. We were a bit apprehensive that the river, no bigger than a burn at this stage, would be flowing deep and fast after the recent heavy rains. However, not only was it very modest in size but we also came across a two plank width stalkers’ bridge that was not marked on the map. We were therefore spared the chore of having to take off our boots and socks!

A handy stalkers' bridge across the infant River Meig with Maoile Lunndaidh in the background (centre peak)

Once on the south side of the river we proceeded east for a few hundred metres and then followed the contours around the bottom of the gently inclined Sron na Frianich ridge until we were on the west bank of the An Crom-allt burn. We climbed up alongside the burn until we reached a spot where we could safely cross. On the other side we began the steep and relentless ascent of a north-facing ridge that is almost indistinct on the map. The ridge formed the western arm of the shallow corrie, Fuar-tholl Beag, on the NW side of Carn nam Fiaclan (996m).

Approaching the summit plateau of Maoile Lunndaidh from Carn nam Fiaclan in the west (complete with summit cairn)

The climb up was fairly stiff, but we eventually topped out at a broad shoulder immediately west of Carn nam Fiaclan’s summit. We crossed the shoulder and then climbed steeply again for 100m to reach the summit, which is classed only as a Munro Top. As per the hill’s Gaelic translation, the view from this Top certainly emphasised the “bald” nature of the landscape on the summit plateau. From our vantage point we could see right around the level escarpment above the spectacular Fuar-tholl Mor cliffs to the summit of Maoile Lunndaidh over 3/4km away.

We arced around the top of the escarpment, only dropping 10m in height as we did so, and then crossed a narrowing in the plateau between the opposing corries that were home to Toll a’ Choin (SE) and Fuar-tholl Mor (NW). From this narrowing we continued NE up gentle slopes to reach the summit cairn of Maoile Lunndaidh at 1007m, or 3,304ft.

Cameron on the windswept summit of Maoile Lunndaidh

From the summit we took a course NNW and dropped briskly down a broad and moderate gradient slope to reach the col below Creag Dhubh Mhor. Here we turned left (due west) and followed the course of a cascading little burn, which we crossed just before it merged with another burn flowing from the two lochans below Fuar-tholl Mor. As we crossed the mouth of this north-facing glen we saw just how spectacular its steep precipitous cliffs really are. It was the sort of place that was worthy of further investigation in its own right.

We were now on the north side of the combined burn, which we followed as it arced around the west ridge of Creag Dhubh Mhor. At an appropriate location we crossed the burn and headed NW across the open moorland, crossing also a stalkers’ path as we headed back to the little two-plank bridge over the infant River Meig. Once across the bridge it was as short hop to the bothy and lodge where we collected our bikes.

Looking west from near the summit of Maoile Lunndaidh to Carn nam Fiaclan (foreground), Bidean an Eoin Deirg (L) and Sgurr a Chaorachain (R)

The first few kilometres back on the bikes were fairly tiresome as we battled against a steady headwind and negotiated the deep boggy pot-holes. However, once we reached the highest point on the track we knew that the fun was about to begin. As on previous occasions we didn’t have to turn a pedal and simply enjoyed a very fast descent all the way back to the railway level-crossing. We agreed, once again, that the effort of cycling up to this high-point at the beginning of the day was well rewarded by an exhilarating downhill blast on the way home.

We were quite relieved that the translation of Maoile Lunndaidh into “bald hill of the wet place” had only been partially representative of our day … as we thankfully hadn’t found it to be particularly wet.

• Pronunciation:             Shlierch
• Translation:                  (possibly) The Spear
• Total distance:              19.4km
• Total time:                     6hrs 14mins
• Total ascent:                  1245m
• Weather:                        Blustery and wet. Gale force winds and severe wind-chill at the summit
• Start / end location:     Parking at Incheril just off the A832 by Kinlochewe. [OS Map Sheet 19 – Grid Ref: NH 037 624]
• Map:                                A map of route can be found here – it may take a few moments to load into a separate window.

A spectacular rainbow forms in front of a stormy Slioch - Munro in the background

Slioch, when seen from the opposite side of Loch Maree, is a spectacular mountain. Its lower slopes rise steeply from the loch-side to reach a high rocky escarpment, where a precipitous ring of cliffs guards its upper reaches. These cliffs look all but impenetrable from the west.

Between the showers - looking west across the Kinlochewe River to the mountains of the Beinn Eighe National Nature Reserve

Wild goats on the slopes of Slioch

This was the glorious view that we got two days ago when we travelled over from Gairloch on the west coast to Kinlochewe where we’ve camped for the last couple of nights. We had hoped to climb Slioch yesterday but the weather was simply atrocious with heavy rain all day coupled with bouts of thunder, lightning and hail. It was so bad that it would actually have been foolhardy to have ventured out.

However, as we now have so few days remaining to complete our last nine Munros, we can’t afford to put off any further ascents due to the “inclement” weather. So, today, despite the conditions remaining very windy and wet, we left the ‘van at the Kinlochewe campsite and headed a kilometre east along the A832 to the tiny hamlet of Incheril and the start of our ascent of Slioch.

From the car park at the road end just passed Incheril primary school, we joined the footpath that ran from Kinlochewe to the coastal village of Gairloch. Under “normal” circumstances this path would have been excellent underfoot – but after the extraordinary amount of rain we’ve had the path was actually flowing like a shallow burn due to the surface water run-off.

The Abhainn an Fhasaigh river rages and boils its way through a deep canyon

We walked along the north side of the Kinlochewe River for just over 3km, passing through groves of alder and rowan as well as tall bracken that was just beginning to turn various hues of auburn. We had to cross several fast flowing burns although none caused us any difficulty. At the Allt Chnaimhean burn, which was quite wide, we came across a herd of wild goats also trying to cross. These are normally extremely surefooted animals completely at home as they move effortlessly on steep slopes and rocky crags – but for once I think that we made a better job of crossing the boulder stepping-stones that they did. We watched as one or two of the goats slipped off the wet rocks and ended up taking a dip in the burn whilst many others seemed to decide it would be more prudent to try and cross the burn higher up – perhaps where it wasn’t as deep.

We crossed without incident and carried on to where the river entered the south-east head of Loch Maree – this loch has often been recognised as the “most beautiful in Scotland” on account of its situation nestled beneath the hills of the Beinn Eighe National Nature Reserve on one side and Slioch on the other, and home to a number of pretty islands clad in Caledonian Pines.

The nose of Sgurr Dubh on the southern flank of Slioch seen from Gleann Bianasdail

On the north side of the loch we followed the path around a tiny bay or inlet and then just beyond reached another river draining into the loch, the Abhainn Fhasaigh. Unlike the meandering course of the Kinlochewe River, the waters of the Abhainn Fhasaigh were being powered through a steep-sided canyon as it followed its course through Gleann Bianasdail high above. It was cascading down countless waterfalls in a boiling fury with its roar reaching a crescendo as we neared its eastern banks. Luckily there was a sturdy footbridge spanning the river, as without it there would have been absolutely no hope of crossing.

Ascending from Coire na Sleaghaich with Sgurr an Tuill Bhain in the background

As soon as we crossed the Fhasaigh we turned NE off the main path and began the straightforward, but always wet and muddy, climb into Gleann Bianasdail. Our route followed the course of the river for a kilometre until we neared a craggy rock face that forced the river and the path to kink to the right. This was the point that signalled us to leave the path on a heading due north and to climb to the col between Sgurr Dubh (738m) and Meall Each (525m). As we ascended, the showers returned as the surrounding peaks became once again firmly shrouded in very thick mist and cloud.

A small lochan between Sgurr Dubh and Slioch catches the light with the hills of the Beinn Eighe National Nature Reserve shrouded in cloud in the back

From the col at 490m we passed beneath the nose of Sgurr Dubh on its eastern side. It certainly looked possible to make an ascent directly up Sgurr Dubh (although it would have been quite steep), and from there to have gained access to the upper slopes of Slioch. However, today, we decided to swing round beneath Sgurr Dubh and then ascend westward into Coire na Sleaghaich. From the back end of the corrie a couple of straightforward approaches (on either side of a small peak) could be climbed to gain access to the broad ridge that connected Sgurr Dubh to Slioch. We chose to climb to the northern side of the little peak via an easy-angled diagonally traversing path, which brought us out on the ridge beside a couple of small lochans. The wind speed had increased noticeably, gusting gale-force, as we entered Coire na Steaghaich and then again as when reached the ridgeline.

The Trig Point on Slioch - which is actually 1m lower than the true summit 250m away to the north

Once on the ridge, we passed to the east (right hand side) of the eastern most lochan and zigzagged our way up the rocky, scree ridge to reach an easy-angled plateau, where we then turned to the NW and climbed to Slioch’s Trig Point at 980m. The Trig Point, however, is actually 1m lower than the true summit of Slioch that lay 250m away to the north. So, in deteriorating weather we continued northward, descending a little before re-ascending to reach the summit cairn at 981m or 3,218ft.

Elaine at a bleak, wet, cold and very windy cairn on the summit of Slioch

We didn’t linger on the summit any longer than to take a photograph before we retraced our route passed the Trig Point and back to the col by the two lochans. We descended back through Coire na Sleaghaich and then down to the bridge across Abhainn Fhasaigh river, where we paused on the bridge to admire the sheer power that was cascading through the canyon beneath our feet. A mixture of bright interludes and showers accompanied us back along the Kinlochewe River until we reached the end of our walk at Incheril.