Wild camp + first Winter traverse [Slioch]

[scottnairn]

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Procrastination for the nation!

As you can see above, this report has been in the pipeline since at least April 2018... it remains one of the most special outings so it will be great to finally share this with you all! Munro #28 - Slioch

For years prior, myself and friends - Jamie, Matt and Sean - have wild camped on the islands of Loch Maree, either annually or every second year. Usually end of March/start of April, in an attempt to enjoy the quiet life of the island without awakening the winged hordes

I had been in attendance for 2015, 2016 and now 2018, after a maiden expedition by the rest of the lads in 2014 proved to be the stuff of legend (2017 was a turbulent attempt at Durness to Sandwood Bay via Kearvaig bothy, no hills, only rain and retreat!)

Island life for a night or two, whether in snow, rain or sunshine (often on the paddle home) is utter bliss and always full of great stories, laughter and memories; but one thing always eluded us on our many visits.

Slioch; much admired, so far unclimbed...

Slioch, the dominating peak above Loch Maree and impossible to ignore. The Spear would be the ideal jewel in the island camping crown but as we only visited once a year or two and usually in harsh winter weather, it presented no clear-cut opportunities for years, leaving only dashed hopes and dreams. An attempt of Meall a' Ghiubhais, even, found us on a beautiful ascent in 2016 but beaten back by an incoming flurry of snow and the realisation that paddling to set up camp would be done after sunset
As we approached in two vehicles, Sean and Jamie in one, Matt and I in another, the beautiful crescendo of the drive west (the winding drop through Glen Docherty) revealed the south-east prognosis. What would have been excitement in Jamie and Sean's car, was dread in mine and Matt's!!! Snowbound, without doubt! Minds at opposite ends of the spectrum; by the time we had parked up to unload the canoe, it was the topic of contention - would we or could we finally bag Slioch?!

*****

The paddle to the island begins with a crossing of open water and normally a good test of nerve. Winds often whip across the most direct route to the enclosed waters of the islets, causing progress to be difficult, slow and sometimes very dodgy!
The recovery is short-lived, as once we round a corner, it's a straight shot to the island and usually against a head-wind.
As we paddle against the swells, water lapping over the sides and in our faces, planning to take a deep breath when we capsize - the panic is alleviated and accentuated by Jamie's maniacal cackling
Nothing good comes easy, they say...

The days still don't last all that long and darkness arrives abruptly. We land with a grateful last push of power and haul the boat, bodies and baggage ashore. With light fading, a good team sets to work establishing a solid communal area, with shelter from the prevailing weather. I faffed around taking photos of the great sunset that was fading, Sean built a rock sculpture atop my camera tripod, leaving Matt and Jamie to foot the bill much bungee cord later, the 'basha' tarps were holding firm and, backed by the canoe, provided us with a billet for our stay.

We have survived, arrived and shall thrive!

Focus stacking... ?! Not quite

Welcome to the Basha Castle

With the night now encamped alongside us, the temperature took a tumble downwards. As many layers as practical were donned and we set about cooking some dinner. My attempts to keep warm meant I spent a lot of time bunkered down, before traipsing around in the dark via headtorch to compose photos. The stars were out in force and, given our position, were twinkling with an uninterrupted fervour. Island life was once more proving itself an unforgettable experience.

Much like the plot to bag Slioch, another topic of debate had been raised this year. There had been rumours of another opportunity - that of the Aurora Borealis, the 'Northern Lights' - being visible in the dark night skies. Knowing full well the random and fickle nature of this phenomenon, I was sceptical that it would coincide with our trip - what's one or two nights out of an entire season of stargazing and solar flares? Just to tempt fate, I pointed the camera north-west towards Poolewe. A faint glow on the horizon had caught my eye and, in this level of wintry dark, it didn't seem befitting of Poolewe's light-polluting capability...

The first potshot NW... We hit the jackpot!!!

Unbelievable cosmic coincidences

The silence of the night was only disturbed by the gentle lapping of loch water, the shifting of pebbles and me frantically orchestrating photos of the lads under the merry dancers!!!
The colours were visible by eye and strengthened as we watched - vibrant green tinged with red and purple spikes. The camera brought clarity to what we were seeing - what looked like clouds actually transpired to be further auroral displays. I had seen a few good auroras by this point, but the introduction of light blue in the colour spectrum was new!! The stars were also present - the Milky Way banding right-to-left over our horizon line and Pleiades (the Seven Sisters star cluster) shone back at us like a far-off mirror of our headtorches.

Aurora collage ft. the islanders

The light blue spaceship

Bit of foreground - the shores of Isle Maree

This hype lasted from 2030hrs and was enough to keep me busy until 2200. Constantly scanning for different compositions - trying to reflect the colours in the waters of Loch Maree, through the basha castle and the scraggly trees. Yet our eyes hadn't yet seen it all. Off in the direction of Gairloch, a pillar of pale pink stretched into the sky as if growing from the mainland. Looking upwards, a burst of white light moved silently, like car headlights streaming all the way from the top of the road beyond Kinlochewe. In a quiet, confused disbelief, we all watched as it dropped to join the pillar, doubling it in size, a mix of peach and white. This was the first (and so far only) time that I (or we, collectively) had seen the "S.T.E.V.E - Strong Thermal Emission Velocity Enhancement" and it was the icing on the cake of an incredible night's viewing. A further 20 minutes or so, and I had tired myself out. I put the camera away, we sat and watched a bit more and everyone retreated to the tents.

Posing with STEVE, watching it gain light and grow taller + brighter

*****

The clear night sky had entranced and delighted - but it also had let all the heat out. I'm admittedly a light sleeper who has now invested in some good quality ear plugs but still fidgets against the cold - and at some point very early, I decided enough was enough; time to throw the boots on and wake with a wander.
Not being cruel, I did what I could to not disturb my friends from their canvas and down homes-away-from-home. A frost had left evidence of starting up, claiming our buoyancy aids and anything left on the fringes. A thin crust of ice had developed in the shallows, fragmenting the isle's shores - in the pre-dawn, it kept the attention firmly on the island - a quiet dot on a currently resting map. The sun slowly rose and lit up the surrounding lands. Beinn an Eoin, in nearby Flowerdale, loomed as large as any mountain, yet lies many miles inland as the crow flies. The sun painted its ridgeback in pastel, before bursting high over Slioch. My quiet morning rouse had been shattered; if Slioch could ever look so good, or as ready for being 'bagged', it was there and now. Tiptoeing around the island was not on the cards anymore - I broke the news to the lads - "you gotta wake up and see this" - knowing full well they would think the same.

Frosted BAs, Beinn an Eoin, shore ice and the Spear awakens

Breakfast is rarely rushed and today would be no exception. With excess items stowed away, the pan over the stove was put to work and tea was consumed as much for heat as, well, for tea's sake! Bags were packed for a winter ascent - the conditions clear, settled. We would have use of only two walking poles and a single ice axe between the four of us - not that cramp-ons would have been beneficial as only half of us had the experience to use them properly. Alpinism, not nearly in its purest(!)

Of course, the paddle to and from the island is usually a journey once taken each way. However, there was an extremely large body of water between us and the start of the hike - it would take us all our energy and all the daylight left to paddle directly to Slioch. An unusual return to the car, reloading of the canoe and soon we were zipping back along the road. Dismantle, launch and we made the short crossing from the Beinn Eighe NNR shoreline car park to the 'Fasagh' ironwork remains marked on the map, on the outlet of the Abhainn an Fhasaigh. 5 whooper swans flew to Kinlochewe, low enough to reach had we been seconds faster. A grey wagtail bobbed past, flashing its yellow underbelly. With goats prepared to guard our canoe and paddles, we left the natural blessings behind and moved upwards, sweating in the unfiltered sunshine.

Beinn Eighe, campsite and happy climbers

Steep at times, we toiled on but full of smiles. As we looked back across the marshes at Taagan, the shoulders, crags and slabs of Beinn Eighe took on surreal presence. We agreed that anyone on Beinn Eighe at that moment would be in the finest situation on Earth, before checking in and realising we were truly living that dream here on Slioch. We finally met snow at around 500m elevation - just as we rounded Sgurr Dubh as the lead in to Coire na Sleaghaich. With Jamie and Sean striding ahead with confidence, Matt and I shared our reservations.
one ice axe, only two walking poles, no crampons... what if the snow is hard packed, icy even? what are we getting ourselves into...?
We all made good time, the sun the only thing climbing faster than us. The coire floor was a mish-mash of snow and streams - the covering was not absolute. I flit between awe and dread. All around us was the culmination of years of dreaming and planning - but the snow warrants caution. There were small people on the rise above - from my squinted viewpoint, they appeared calculated, steady and well equipped.


"I'm just looking at i-" "Scott, come on, it's only snow. It's safe and we'll work our way up it together"
My better instincts had been quashed by the voices of confidence and reason (Jamie and Sean). If Matt was convinced, he wasn't showing it. We climbed the western coire wall where the 'path' should have appeared, following a rough stampede of footprints set by the small group ahead. Not wanting to take a tumble, I was on high alert, gripping the walking pole and the snow like letting go meant death. The delicate flurries of snow from Jamie's movements above me had rendered me near motionless; I required total focus and a clear run at this.
Turns out, I have had dodgier climbs roped in at the local climbing wall... Could I blame my inexperience, my youth... Maybe not

Reaching the snowline amongst Coire na Sleaghaich

All was well, the need for replacement boxers not quite necessary. With the sun shining and the trail broken, the burden lifted and we all began to enjoy this for what it was - an exceptional mountain day. The lochans here were frozen solid and the daring duo took to the rink for a laugh. Not quite Torvill and Dean...
The team climbed more steeply but with a bit more faith in the snow. It wasn't at all treacherous or even taxing, just cushioning our advances. Dissolving into view, Loch Maree and all of her islands sat in a perfect blend between sky, mountain and loch water. Reaching the summit was welcomed, giving pause to admire the untouched ice, the drop down to the islands and have a lunch of champions. The group who we caught up to were a family on holiday from Manchester. Whilst the teenage children looked unimpressed with the efforts they had been coerced into, it seemed like they were all coping pretty well. Both groups looked around, identifying features and distant mountains - imagine the look on four Highlander's faces when the visiting father butchered the pronounciation of 'An Teallach' although we all gave him credit for trying!!!
We lounged quite happily at Slioch's summit - the panoramas in any direction worth staring at all day. On the search for more lunch, I found my trusty Scotland flag wedged away in my bag - too often forgotten. Posing with the Saltire, we mustered up smiles, though thoroughly tired. Sweeping off the top, we proceeded along a tundra bowl in search of the east ridge of An t-Aon Cheum. This is where, full of that newly-instilled confidence, the feeling of true winter mountaineering came to the fore. A tightrope of soft snow stretched ahead, with Lochan Fada taking on endless depth underneath the snowy hills; murky blue and only separated by a long fall

Synchronised ice skating

Looking down on Paradise

All is blue and white

Summit group photo

Care was rightfully taken and we all made it quite happily along. In a quiet discussion before the push to Sgurr an Tuill Bhain, Matt and Jamie posed an alternative. Citing the time it took to ascend, coupled with the car and canoe ferries, we would soon be robbed of daylight. Given the facts, we needed to bug out and claw some time back. The Munro claimed, we did not follow the Manchester mountaineers (who would certainly have taken to walk back to Kinlochewe in darkness) and cut due south into the Coire na Sleaghaich. Employing movements akin to skiing - just without skis - Jamie strode down through the snow, cushioned at speed, guided by the outstretched walking pole. I followed suit. Given my adversion to snow just hours previous, I loved it! Leaning onto my heels kept me from going head first and wouldn't you know it, we were 200m or so descended in mere minutes. A regroup and we plotted our way through the coire, back to the outward route to retrace. By the time we rounded out of the coire and checked back, the family pack had just started their descent of Sgurr an Tuill Bhain; we could not have afforded that much light or luxury unfortunately, this time.

Steer clear of the drop(!)

An t-Aon Cheum snow ridge walk

The paddle to the island begins with a crossing of open water and normally a good test of nerve. Winds often whip across the most direct route to the enclosed waters of the islets, causing progress to be difficult, slow and sometimes very dodgy! Nothing good comes easy, they say...

The wind wasn't too bad but with all said and done, having to paddle back to home after a big Munro expedition takes some determination. We landed on the rocky paradise with only just enough ambient light to see. Needless to say, with an overnight between another final voyage and the drive home, there was little need for our supplies to be rationed. Dinner that night was a buffet of burgers, sausages, biscuits, tea; whatever there was, it was fair game and it was fair required!!
In contrast to the night before, no-one hung around to gaze at the skies - we all hit the hay, bellies full and bodies tired.

*****
In review, it is curious how times and attitudes change.
As nearly 4 years passes between the trip, life brings up new adventures and perhaps makes it harder to get the lads together for these special camping and hiking expeds. Work places constraints on time and distance. Starting families means you cannot just disappear to an island in the wild Highlands (or at least, not as readily as before!). We were always careful to keep the island tidy - in recent times, the emergence of 'Leave No Trace' camping might have thrown even the thought of a campfire, somewhere to share stories, laughter and food out as 'selfish' and 'disrespectful'. When we heard Trail magazine had published a guide to camping on Isle Maree, just as we did so fondly, it felt like the secret was finally out - a future trip would surely look and feel different to be sympathetic to classic notions, given modern titles. And a dishonourable mention to COVID-19 - when all you want to do is get away, even the island adventure isn't exempt from COVID restrictions...
It's been some time since we took a team foray to Loch Maree, opting for bothies or just hill days instead. Who knows if and when the next trip will be?

This will rank in my top 5 mountain days forever. The whole trip was memorable from start to finish - the determined canoeing, the island being a familiar second home for our timeless banter, rigging up the basha tarps under every star possible, an aurora that introduced us to a new friend called 'S.T.E.V.E' and of course, every bit of that snow-clad Spear which we finally summited together.

The flag that I always forget to take with me; the friends I can't forget :)

[R1ggered]

Great report. Fantastic photos.

[scottnairn]

Great report. Fantastic photos.

Thank you ☺ if the aurora wasn't good enough, the wintry ascent of Slioch certainly was!

[Mal Grey]

Wow! Superb stuff, what an adventure. The camp on the magical Isle must have been wonderful, its special enough even without the Aurora and STEVE.

Not a bad looking day on the hill, either


Isle Maree remains pretty clean and tidy, I've visited twice this year. Whilst there is moderate evidence amongst the Isles that some people haven't always been as well behaved, a few cut branches etc, a ban on camping was put in force for the summer months and seems to have done the job fairly well. We did, though, notice an increase in rather under-prepared day paddlers out amongst the isles, on a day when getting back across the rising waves wasn't really for the inexperienced!

[rockhopper]

Excellent - enjoyed that - well worth the wait to finish it - cheers

[scottnairn]

Wow! Superb stuff, what an adventure. The camp on the magical Isle must have been wonderful, its special enough even without the Aurora and STEVE.

Not a bad looking day on the hill, either


Isle Maree remains pretty clean and tidy, I've visited twice this year. Whilst there is moderate evidence amongst the Isles that some people haven't always been as well behaved, a few cut branches etc, a ban on camping was put in force for the summer months and seems to have done the job fairly well. We did, though, notice an increase in rather under-prepared day paddlers out amongst the isles, on a day when getting back across the rising waves wasn't really for the inexperienced!

Thank you, Mal! Yes, the whole trip just loaded up on memorable moments ☺

It's good to hear about the Isle being looked after in recent times - I think the advent of highlighting Responsible Access/Camping and social campaigns like 'Leave No Trace' have been well received throughout outdoor pursuit communities. A bit worrying hearing about casual day paddlers - Loch Maree is certainly a big body of water and worthy of a healthy distrust(!!) - we can all see the allure, though

All the best,
Scott

[scottnairn]

Excellent - enjoyed that - well worth the wait to finish it - cheers

Thank you for persevering 😂 it took 4 years to write up and takes about 4 hours to read haha! I had a lot to cram in, I'm glad there's not a character or image limit (that I've found, yet!)

All the best,
Scott

[Robertgee]

Superb adventure...and as for the aurora, wow. I've never even heard of a STEVE. (Thought it must have been the name of one of your party).

Congratulations on winning the report of the month, well deserved.

[scottnairn]

Superb adventure...and as for the aurora, wow. I've never even heard of a STEVE. (Thought it must have been the name of one of your party).

Congratulations on winning the report of the month, well deserved.

Thanks Robertgee!

Very fortunate to get such a vivid and varied display - and the whole weekend being such a fantastic time cheers!

Scott

[ChrisLP]

'Yet our eyes hadn't yet seen it all. Off in the direction of Gairloch, a pillar of pale pink stretched into the sky as if growing from the mainland. Looking upwards, a burst of white light moved silently, like car headlights streaming all the way from the top of the road beyond Kinlochewe. In a quiet, confused disbelief, we all watched as it dropped to join the pillar, doubling it in size, a mix of peach and white. This was the first (and so far only) time that I (or we, collectively) had seen the "S.T.E.V.E - Strong Thermal Emission Velocity Enhancement" and it was the icing on the cake of an incredible night's viewing. A further 20 minutes or so, and I had tired myself out. I put the camera away, we sat and watched a bit more and everyone retreated to the tents.'

Great report and amazing photos. I think we all want to meet STEVE now.

[scottnairn]

'Yet our eyes hadn't yet seen it all. Off in the direction of Gairloch, a pillar of pale pink stretched into the sky as if growing from the mainland. Looking upwards, a burst of white light moved silently, like car headlights streaming all the way from the top of the road beyond Kinlochewe. In a quiet, confused disbelief, we all watched as it dropped to join the pillar, doubling it in size, a mix of peach and white. This was the first (and so far only) time that I (or we, collectively) had seen the "S.T.E.V.E - Strong Thermal Emission Velocity Enhancement" and it was the icing on the cake of an incredible night's viewing. A further 20 minutes or so, and I had tired myself out. I put the camera away, we sat and watched a bit more and everyone retreated to the tents.'

Great report and amazing photos. I think we all want to meet STEVE now.

ChrisLP - thank you!

Big S.T.E.V.E has proved very elusive since - a unique moment which could hardly have been better timed for us weary island campers the fickle nature of aurora spotting hopefully doesn't deter too many; it is as much a joy to behold as a summit vista or a wild creature in the Scottish wilds. That's something everyone should experience at some point

All the best, Scott