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I had pretty much walked my first 30 munros solo, but since then all my subsequent ones had been with other folk; regular walking partners, random walking partners and even the odd disreputable group of fellow WH’s on the various meets that have been held. But this Friday, between work, holidays and people climbing hills I’d already been up, no-one was around. With the forecast promising great things it was an opportunity not to be missed – there was nothing for it but to head for the hillls on my lonesome. The main problem I find with solo walking is the battle to get up and out of bed. When walking with others there’s no choice but to get out and go meet them. Answerable to no-one it was so easy to roll over and go back to sleep when the alarm sounded at 5am. After a 10 minute debate with myself, knowing however nice it would be to fall back asleep I knew by the time 10am came round I’d regret it. The angel on my shoulder winning the war I dragged myself up and began the 3 hour slog to Glen Nevis.
Even though the sun was out there was an early morning chill in the air, the temp gage in the car read 3 degrees at one point
– as they say in Winterfell – Winter is coming
Walking up the glen I soon warmed up and enjoyed the reasonable gradient the ascent path offered.
To my left loomed the end of the Ring of Steall and that descent. As much as I enoyed that last munro it will be forever tainted with the memory of that spirit crushing, soul destroying drop off. That said it was looking stunning and in particular the air either side of the Devil’s ridge could really be appreciated. The ridge is heaven sent, that descent was straight from the pit of hell.
After admiring the ring of steall the attention began to turn to the right hand side of the glen and the magnificent buttress’ of Stob Ban. This looked like a little piece of Torridon dropped in the middle of the Mamores. A little water break here enabled the true appreciation of my surroundings – jaw dropping scenery in all directions
Onwards then up to the top of the coire and the route up Stob ban could be seen. It looked fairly intimidating from down the bottom but with a gentle breeze and warmth from the sun I was looking forward to it.
I put my poles away leaving my hands free for any scrambling. The quartz was beautiful and the scrambling fun – in places it was like a marble staircase
A fairly steep but hugely enjoyable climb continued until I eventually hit the top. No doubt this was a beautiful mountain but the views it offered were equally stunning.
I met a nice chap from down south at the top. He had not had much luck with the weather in Torridon but since arriving in Fort William the sun had shined for him. I wished him well as he was doing the route in reverse before heading over to the eastern Mamores.
I had made good progress and it wasn’t yet lunch time so I pushed on a bit further exploring the jaggy peaks and gullies of Stob ban.
On to bealach and the ground underfoot bgan to change to red. Surprisingly, this connecting ridge offered a few mini pinnacles, exposed on one side. There is a bypass path on the left but the view would be restricted and on a day like this a bit more scrambling simply added to an already awesome day.
Once over the jaggy bits it up onto a wide plateau which offered a simple ascent onto the second munnro Mullach Nan Coirean. It is said that this munro suffers from its neighbour. True, Stob Ban is right up there with all Scotland has to offer, but this is a superb peak in its own right. The connecting ridge is great fun and the views from the top are spectacular.
Like stob ban, Mullach has much of its own to explore, more jaggy points and exposed gullies.
This really is one of my favourite parts of the country. I was only sorry it was coming to an end. I was also apprehensive of the walk out but the descent offered a narrow airy ridge before hitting a grassy prow.
Here something odd happened – my legs began to get faster and yes, I couldn’t actually believe it, but I appeared to be jogging off
I can only assume the atmosphere had gone to my head. Jogging down in the shadow of the Ben with peaks all around – this was life affirming stuff. I felt like I was on set on of those alpine yogurt commercials from the 80’s. I half expected a flaxen haired maiden to appear and begin to yodel
And was this Julie Andrews before me on her way up to belt out a bit of sound of music? – um, no it was a 6ft 4 german geezer in full camo’s
Brought back to reality I wished him guten tag and carried on jogging as far as the deer fence. Here I got the poles back out and inched my way down through the bog.
The walk out was thankfully not too bad and eyeing up the Ben helped pass the time.
Another truly great day in this part of the highlands.
Surely, if anything is worth getting up at 5am for, the Mamores must be it.