Murky Monday Munro; Cruach Ardrain

[WeeHills]

I have been granted a random Monday off, a reward for the many meetings that have interrupted my midweek meanderings of late. The forecast is, well, OK for mid November. Little chance of rain, no sign of snow yet, not blowing a hoolie, what more do I want? Visibility, that's what! I scan around weather sites searching for a suitable hill for the day, one that fits my limited daylight, need to be home by 5pm criteria. Everywhere I look the forecast shifts. It'll be clear, no foggy, visibility fluctuates from very poor to very good and back again. By Sunday tea time I give up. What will be will be. I settle on the familiarity of the Crianlarich hills and a jaunt up Cruach Ardrain from Glen Falloch over Grey Height and along along the ridge. There's a decent path, can't go wrong and if the weather takes a turn for the clear, if I have the time, if I can be bothered I can throw in Beinn Tulaichean. We'll see.

I time my drive up the A82 so as to meet at least some semblance of daylight for the dreadful twisty section from Tarbet. I dislike driving in the dark, my night vision being pants. My timing is by contrast spot on and the journey uneventful seeing me pull into the layby at 8ish. It is still, quite warm but murky, the tops shrouded in cloud as I set off under the railway 15 minutes later. Maybe I'll get lucky and the clag will shift, maybe not, one way to find out. If nothing else at least the vegetation is pleasingly autumnal and the route is nice and craggy and dotted with lochans and a claggy hill sure beats work!

Murky Monday in Glen Falloch

River Falloch at the crossing, looking up stream

And down

Follow the hydro track for a kilometre or so, then hang a left to the wee bridge over the Falloch. Today it is a torrent, the sound of which will accompany me all day. Then follow the fence line upwards, or not. I opt to leave the beaten track and cut diagonally up the hill. I'm not sure it is any quicker or easier but it takes me away from the tedium of the conifer plantation and while still well below the clouds there are hints of surrounding hills, a smidge of blue sky here and there behind me, but where I'm headed is a grey height indeed.

Cutting diagonally up the hill, looking towards Beinn Dorain

Hints of hills to the south on the ascent

Towards a very grey Grey Height

After a time the gradient eases, I find the ridge path and in short order am enveloped in the gloom. The world shrinks, sight lines vanish, sounds are muffled, it is lovely. There is just something about wandering around with one's head in the clouds. Suddenly every detail is both fascinating and beautiful. The shape of a rock, the way the moss clings to its soilless surface, the vibrant autumn colours, the reflections of blades of grass in a still lochan. As soon as I reach the first of these pools I pause for coffee. It is a delightful spot, there's not a breath of wind, the only sound the river below me, I idly ponder how nice it would be to camp here.

Delightful lochan by which to sit and contemplate

Mossy rocks and autumn shades

Then it is move on a bit, admire a dramatic drop here, a precariously balanced boulder there, check out this cleft and that fracture, stop by another lochan for another coffee, is that a hint of blue in the sky? A delightful, undulating ridge walk despite the dreichness, I lose track of time before suddenly realising it's been two and a half hours since I left the car and I've yet to reach the cairn on Meall Dhamh. Time to stop divving about and get a shoofty on.

Precariously balanced boulders abound along the ridge

Clefts drop steeply downwards

Wouldn't want to get too close to that edge

Another lochan, another coffee

An occassional hint of blue in the sky along the charming ridge walk

I few minutes later I spy the wee cairn nestled in a wee dookit atop a nice swirly wee rock formation that marks the top of Meall Dhamh. It's a nice summit, with some nice fractured rocks to admire and a view through the murk to the next section of ridge, which looks a little more intimidating.

Pretty wee cairn on Meall Dhamh

Meall Dhamh summit

The route ahead looks a little imposing but is not so intimidating in reality

But the imposing scene is deceptive, the path swings round to its left, the only slight obstacle being a short downward scramble which is a little slippery in the damp. As I amble onwards at one point the skies think about clearing and I get a glimpse towards the top of Cruach Ardrain ahead for a few moments. An Caisteal thinks about coming out to play, then thinks better of it. Beinn a' Chroin puts in a brief appearance, and hides away again. Normal, claggy service is soon resumed.

The one, brief view of Cruach Ardrain itself

An Caisteal thinks about coming out to play

Then thinks better of it

Beinn a' Chroin puts in a brief appearance

Normal November service resumed

The path swings from left side to right, drops down then heads back up, steeply for a short section. Water runs down it and for a bit it feels more like walking up a stream than a path, then the water finds some other course, the angle lessens, the bealach marked by a cairn comes into view. Turn right here for Beinn Tulaichean and left for Cruach Ardrain. I go left and it is a quick march over the false top to the summit. A fine view point on a clear day. Today is not such a day. A brief fog-bow, vanished before it can be snapped, brightens the scene, and at one point a ghostly glimpse of Ben More appears through the cloud but it shows no signs of shifting and there seems little point in hanging around. I pause only for 15 minutes, just long enough for a cuppa and a decision on what comes next.

Cruach Ardrain cairn

Ghostly hint of Ben More

Looking back at the false summit from the top of Cruach Ardrain

Time is ticking on as I've spent such a lot of it faffing around in the fog staring at nothing in particular, and the clag doesn't seem to be going anywhere so there seems no point in heading for Beinn Tulaichean today. The weather hasn't cleared, there isn't really time, and frankly I can't be bothered.

Instead I take a notion to drop off the side of the hill into Glen Falloch and follow the nice, boggy path back along the valley floor. So I retrace my steps a way, until low point of path meets burn headed down then start wending my way to the bottom.

I am now below the murk again, which is probably a good thing as there are imposing crags to be avoided among the gentler drops where small waterfalls form. But with now decent visibility the dodgy bits are easily traversed around as I roughly follow one burn until it meets another, plodding down the grassy slope, the occasional sheep looking at me as if I'm mad. I wend round rocks, skirt the worst bogs, step over this and that tributary until I pick up the normal track back from Beinn a' Chroin. Now I just need to get across the Falloch itself. Hmmm.

Heading down

There are many wee waterfalls on the descent, and some much steeper and scarier ones which I'm staying well clear of

It has been pretty wet of late, the river is full and gushing. I consider this spot and that. None looks great. Sod it, just pick one, if I get wet I get wet. Right foot stays dry. I misjudge the stableness of a rock so left foot is not so lucky. Hey ho, good job I'm headed homewards anyway. On the plus side now left foot is drookit its pal might as well join it. I make zero attempt to avoid the worst of the squelch on the path out, and it is very squelchy today. I simply march on regardless, splashing merrily through the bogs and puddles, giving no effs, like a giant toddler who's just discovered puddle-jumping. At least until one foot goes for a slide and I nearly end up flat on my back in the mud. Probably best to chill my beans and slow it down a little.

Back across the Falloch, with one dry and one drookit foot

On the plus side Glen Falloch does boast a convenient holding dam as bogfest meets hydro track. Ideal for stopping by the wash ones muddy boots and gaiters. As they're wet through anyway both feet get a full submerging, and walking poles a good swish around, before the final walk out. At which point the cloud lifts slightly and I finally get a view up to Grey Height and Meall Dhamh. Typical.

Holding dam for washing boots, gaiters, poles, whatever

Now the hills come out. Typical

Last glance back up the glen

It's been an amusingly murky Monday excursion, though I'm glad the car contains dry socks and shoes. Really should learn to watch where I'm putting my feet. Still, despite all my mucking around in the gloom I'm home well before five as promised. I could get used to random days off, more of that please.