Twa Ticks in Heehaw viz: Sgriodain and Chno Dearg

[Lipeshends]

Maybe the bug has returned because no sooner have I climbed a hill then I start imagining the next. My pal Ivor, for the daftest of reasons that Trainline denied him a ticket without bothering to say that tickets were freely available at stations or on the poxy train, did not accompany me on my Corrour trip so I felt he was owed one.

My ambitions are returning and although life may run out before the Munros list I reckon I’ll just keep heading to the hills and see. One way is to look for twofers. In ‘Murkan English this is a real word! It should be a no brainer that once you get the height, the effort for a second or third tick is less-per-hill but long days have been rare in recent times.

So. This pair of Munros looked achievable, Ivor persuaded and a bunkhouse booked near Spean Bridge. Two up in a six berth room for 25 each, but have to stay minimum 2 nights. Other beds not used. Not exactly an enthusiastic re-opening of the sector but (see next report) better than could be.

As always in Scotland if you prearrange accommodation you become hostage to the weather, but Ivor is back post Covid to working M-F so its weekends only, and this was a September holiday requiring an early booking.
The hills themselves are described as ‘a fine ridge’ and ‘shapeless lump’ that wouldn’t get climbed if it weren’t a Munro. On a day you cannae see fine ridges or shape of lumps this is a distinction of no consequence. Twa ticks the goal and they’re done!!

It rained a bit – of course it did – but I recall it being more thick clouds than pelting down. We barely took any pictures going up except of ourselves so the ones here are after we’d descended beneath the ceiling and were afforded a brief glimpse of the ridge on Sgriodain we’d ascended in the murk.

Here's one from the walk in. Route goes more or less by that stream until entering the murk near where Ivor's bunnet meets the cloud. The path seemed to head in further but a glance back right revealed a steep grassy gully, much trodden that gave access to the ridge proper.

Author and dayglo Ivor - shows why rain is moot inside a cloud.

Going by the good maps 25 and 50 thou and the rather more suggestive than actual route down from Chno Dearg I was navigating by that, unreliable- in-fog, technique known as seat of the pants. It isn’t that I wasn’t aware we were off left going down, or even that I had any hope of a path; it wasn’t even that I was unaware the compass was also screaming ‘off left’. Rather it was the expectation of a glimpse of the wonderfully tautological Lochan na Coire Lochain that would give us a hand rail to the Allt Chaorach Beag which unusually in these here parts separates into several watercourses on a subsidiary bulge of the ridge.

Well we did see the Loachain – when it was about 30m away. Somewhere near the ‘o’ in Lochan. Not bad – about 50° off intended track. More or less strait North from there took us past Burn-Central and uneventfully hame.

Featureless slopes on descent from Chno Dearg eventually it lifted a bit or we emerged below the soup - this view back up the hill.

On the descent - still with a way to go - we got a glimpse of the ridge we had ascended. It was a fine ride with proper "ridgey" feel with successive castle-like lumps and a sense of a drop off to both sides. But views? Nane. Use your imagination.

Only 'view' of the day. North East towards Laggan - could that be Creag Meagaidh in cloud and maybe Geal Charn?

... and finally; how we laughed opening the fire exit of our bunkroom described as having a short drop! Outside and in a fire situation it isn't much but looking down from inside yer like 'aye right'

A bit of a luxury staying both nights either side of a walk. Very leisurely - and no long early drive or late drive whilst knackered. The excellent Pub we ate in – Stronlossit Inn – had restricted but great quality menu, limited covers, no bookings except on Saturday, first come first served as tables filled. You could tell this would be a fine place to nosh in regular times but like all the highlands is suffering critically from Brexit induced staff shortage. Thanks Boris. One guy from Latvia I think was barman, server, took orders, brought bills and the ‘machine’. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was back there cooking too! No complaints, but we did have a smirk at his appearance – tall, thin and a bit like Norman Bates in Psycho. We ate there twice. By all accounts the further away pub in Spean Bridge was good too. The much larger Glenspean Lodge Hotel, right across the road from our bunk accommodation seemed set up for parties only and at least for now has no public bar.