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In anticipation of restrictions lifting over the course of the spring and early parts of the summer and the hope that the Indian variant won't have plunged us back into lockdown and me into interminable repeats of Kinnoull and Moncreiffe Hills, Kev and I had pencilled in a Knoydart trip for July. Knoydart will be a step up from the kind of walking that sustained me through the first 4 months or so of the year, and even from the two Graham and Corbett bagging trips I had thus far managed to get in since being allowed to venture outside the local authority. So some more re-acclimatisation time would be required, not just in terms of the hill walking itself but also in terms of brushing up on the old wild camping routine.
My plan had been to head north on the Friday evening before meeting up with Kev in Kinlochleven on Saturday morning to tackle the Corbett Mam na Gualainn. Unlike Wednesdays and Thursdays at the moment, I have a class last period on a Friday so I wouldn't be able to get out of Perth until 4pm at the earliest, and even then only assuming a very swift and problem-free getaway. I had planned to head up to Glen Roy and do Carn Dearg and Leana Mhor (East) before camping in the glen and getting away sharp on the Saturday morning for Kinlochleven. All of this would see me hit the magical 111 and exactly half way on the Corbett round the following day on Mam na Gualainn.
When it came to it though, I was typically poorly prepared for a sharp exit and a few work matters really needed a bit of attention before the weekend or they would only come back to haunt me on Monday. I settled instead for a night at home and a drive along the A85 the following morning rather than up the A9 that evening.
So for the third time in a month, I was heading through Methven, Crieff, Comrie, St Fillans, Lochearnhead and on up through Glen Ogle to Crianlarich. The first time up here in April I had taken a right at Crianlarich, the next time a left. Today it was right again and up through Tyndrum where things started to get a bit busy. The Real Food Cafe seemed to be doing a roaring breakfast trade and by the time I had crossed Rannoch Moor and was heading into Glencoe, the parking spots for the Buachaille and neighbouring hills were already looking rammed and it was only just 8am.
I pulled into the Grey Mare's Tail car park in Kinlochleven around 8.20, a few moments behind Kev. Ross McGowan (a.k.a. Magoo82) was already parked up but had long since left the car and headed for the hills. He had posted on social media the previous evening saying he was heading into the Mamores early doors and would be away by the time Kev and I pitched up. I hadn't walked with Kev since before the pandemic - the beginning of November 2019 and a howler of a day on Carn Dearg (S. of Gleann Eachach) followed by our second Luib Chonnal night of that year. This was also Kev's first time walking with Luna, born the week after that bothy night and now doing her third Corbett.
We headed along the road on the north side of Loch Leven towards the MacDonald Hotel, before cutting off up onto the busy path to the right that climbs up onto the track leading from the Mamore Lodge through into the Lairig Mhor. I wasn't used to walking with this many folk around, having seen scarcely another living soul on my previous two post-lockdown outings.
Beinn na Caillich behind the pylon lines and across Loch Leven to the Pap and Thunderbolt MountainWe were pretty sure that most of these people would melt away once we left the WHW and took to the hill path and right enough, from that point we had the hill to ourselves until we dropped back down onto the WHW track several hours later. We dropped down the scar-like path and over the Allt Nathrach onto the path up the steep eastern nose of Beinn na Caillich, and had the place to ourselves.
Above Loch Leven on the stony ascent path of Beinn na Caillich I was putting the new Asolo boots through their paces for the first time after the long overdue retirement of the trusty old Akus which had seen me through many years of hill adventures but had dumped me on my backside one too many times on my last outing in Arrochar. The uppers, although split in a couple of places, were still up to the task and somehow largely still waterproof, but the soles were practically worn flat in most places.
Beinn na CaillichLuna wondering why the bipeds are going so slowlyI also wasn't used to walking this regularly (in the hill walking sense at least), this being my third outing in a month. This would have been a pretty rare occurrence in the pre-covid days but Mrs D seems strangely relaxed about it nowadays. Maybe she is just assuming that it is only a matter of time until some bad stuff goes down and I am once again limited to endless repeats of Moncreiffe Hill.
Beinn a'Bhethir between the Pap of Glencoe and Beinn na CaillichStob Ban and the Devil's Ridge sticking out the backIf earlier on I hadn't been used to walking with so many others in sight (or in Asolo boots), I was certainly becoming accustomed to walking in fine conditions. Other than a couple of hail showers that bookended my last outing on The Brack and Cnoc Coinnich, I had enjoyed superb weather on my two post-lockdown trips and today looked like the hat trick was on. Certainly not typical of my memories of pre-pandemic hill walking days!
Kev striding out like a man on a missionAcross to Stob Ban and part of the Ring of Steall again, the WHW track bottom rightBack down the east ridge of Beinn na Caillich - Kinlochleven at the head of Loch Leven with the Blackwater dam and reservoir beyond and the massive bulk of Garbh Bheinn across the lochMore Mamores, and I'm liking the look of an ascent of Stob Ban from this sideAfter a spot of contouring round the side and having to backtrack a short distance, we were soon at the small cairn marking the summit of Beinn na Caillich. If it hadn't been obvious already that the quicker ascent up from Callert on the north shore of Loch Leven would have done this mountain a grave disservice, it certainly was now to anybody with the ability to see. There now stretched out before us what Cameron McNeish would almost certainly refer to as "a splendid high level grassy promenade", with the Corbett summit of Mam na Gualainn at its western termination.
Kinlochleven and Blackwater from Beinn na Caillich with a distant Schiehallion visible on the horizonKev on the edgePap of Glencoe and a boat on Loch LevenIs there a spot or two on Beinn a'Bhethir?Luna not sure which way to runWhat would McNeish have to say about this?Brooding MamoresWe sauntered along the broad grassy ridge, stopping now and then to take in the views and take some photos. Mam na Gualainn is certainly a hill at the centre of a lot of stuff and with prime views to it all - across Loch Leven to the Glencoe and Ballachulish hills, out across Loch Linnhe towards Ardgour, across the western Mamores towards Nevis (which was defiantly keeping a hat on today) and back over Kinlochleven and Blackwater towards the expanse of Rannoch Moor.
The ridge ahead to Mam na GualainnBeinn a'Bhethir with Sgor a'Choise and Fraochaidh to its leftA window with a viewLooking back east to Beinn na Caillich - Kev takin' a wee momentStill a little snow cap on the summit of Sgorr Dhearg on the Beinn a'Bheithir horseshoeWe passed the time catching up on the events that have shaped our lives and the lives of the rest of us over the year and a half or so since that Luib Chonnal night - mostly unfortunate and negative in nature: the B word, a certain pandemic and the resultant lockdowns that it brought with it, Tories, goons turning up in vans and trying to disappear people, and of course the fortunes (or perhaps misfortunes would be more apt) of our respective fitba teams.
Loch Leven wedged firmly between Beinn na Caillich and Garbh Bheinn
A decent sized chunk of MamoresGradually reeling in the summit of Mam na GualainnBut there was, as always, some chat about the better things in life - how our two girls are growing up and getting on (OK, so they're not always angelic but let's focus on the bigger picture), the positives we have taken out of the lockdown experience (surely not being allowed to travel to Suxbridge is a good thing), the merits of dog ownership (killer farts notwithstanding, especially when your dog hoovers up a dead frog) and of course new beer discoveries (Dirty Sanchez anyone?)
Quite an array of hills and memories of some good and some not so good days on them - Bidean across the Pap and the western end of the AE ridge, Sgurr na h-Ulaidh, Fionnlaidh, Meall Lighiche, Meall Mor and Sgorr a'ChoiseBack whence we came from just before the summitWe were soon at the cylindrical trig point with its memorial plaque to a Royal Marine and quickly had to layer up against the biting wind. It might be a glorious day in the latter half of May but it was feeling more like March than a day just a few weeks shy of mid-summer. If I had got my act together last night and did what I had originally planned, I'd now be celebrating the exact mid-point of the Corbett round but as it was, I'd have to settle for being one short for the time being.
Kev bags another RonnieShould have been the half time whistle for me, instead I'll have to settle for added time at the end of the first halfOminous skies above Thunderbolt MountainWhich one of these two mugs is most likely to give me some of their lunch?Another huge chunk of prime West Highland hillscapeSatisfying view back to Kinlochleven and beyondThe traditional self timer effort before making tracksWe packed up and headed west off the summit to loop around and drop down to pick up the Callert-Lairigmor Right of Way that would take us back to the WHW track for the last 6 or 7 kilometres back to Kinlochleven.
Heading away from Kinlochleven to return to KinlochlevenA last glance over to Bidean and co.Back on the WHW, people suddenly rematerialised, all of them heading towards Fort William with small daypacks, many of them asking how far they still had to go. 10 miles Kev would say. About 20 minutes I would say. We eyed up the fine looking ascent of Stob Ban from the old ruins at Tigh-na-sleubhaich which, just like the Dirty Sanchez, looked quite Fierce from a distance but unlike the Dirty Sanchez, became considerably more benign the more you saw of it.
Stob Ban and Tigh-na-sleubhaichThose Mountain Ash will grow anywhereWe sustained ourselves back to the cars with Knoydart chat and plans for our proposed bagging trip there in July. I'm sure I'll have heard the half time whistle by then I can get the second half of my Corbett round up and running as well as kick starting my Munro count, stalled since last September on Moruisg.
Last look back at Beinn na Caillich before returning to KinlochlevenBack at the car park we said our farewells in the expectation that it will not be nearly as long until we next walk together and then Kev headed off. In the few minutes it took me to change my footwear and eat the remaining tuna mayo roll from my pack, Ross wandered into the car park after his day out in the Eastern Mamores and we blethered for a bit before I too hit the road in time to hear my adopted home town team do the League Cup and Scottish Cup Double. Oh well, at least some folks cannae complain too much about their team!