SEANA BHRAIGH BY STRATH MULZIE

[Bonxie1]

SEANA BHRAIGH FROM STRATH MULZIE

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On the Pushbike Through Strath Mulzie.

The one and only previous time that I’d climbed this remote and beautiful Munro, the dreaded Thatcher was ruling the roost and changing our society for ever. I’d gone in from Inverlael, and vividly remember singing protest songs down the stalking paths on the return. Classic mid-80s.

Creag an Duine L and Seana Bhraigh summit R Across a Ford.

A different route was now required, and the lure of Corriemulzie was the obvious choice, notwithstanding its long approach, which even with the aid of a bike guaranteed a long and eventful day. And so it was that I crossed first the Oykel, and then the Einig rivers to park next to the old schoolhouse at Duig Bridge, which is now a MBA bothy, with just three small rooms. I’d climbed Ben Klibreck the previous day, and so the prospect of another arduous day held a mixed appeal!

Getting Closer!

The solitary occupant of the bothy declared in a quick chat that he ‘wasn’t up for the hill today’ and so I left him to it, departing late morning onto a cycle that promised both length and challenge. Almost immediately the statues of an otter and salmon in a face-off represented the core of the Corriemulzie Estate. It appeared to be well managed, and the ghillies that I spoke to mid-cycle were friendly enough. So far, so good. Blackcaps and willow warblers sang from the plantations, and redpolls and siskins ruled the air. First a cottage and then Corriemulzie Lodge came and went. I was rising slowly up the glen and against the wind, and so progress was steady but satisfactory.

The Start of the ATV Track is Marked by Cairns.

As the track wound gently up the strath the views of the Seana Bhraigh massif slowly opened up, with the spectacular peak of Creag an Duine always left (east) and the actual summit on the opposite right-hand side (west). The kilometres hard won only increased the dramatic nature of the crag overlooking Choire Luchd. On paper, I’d seriously entertained doing the round of the Luchd but reality kicked in cycling up the Corriemulzie River. A combination of the arduous nature of this remote undertaking, coupled with a solo outing, and potentially dodgy weather suggested that a direct summit route was a more sensible option.

The Assynt Hills to the NW.

A couple of fords of the upper reaches of the river were required, neither of which were a serious challenge to the combination of mountain bike plus Yeti gaiters. I ditched my trusty 20 year-old mountain bike by the final track junction underneath the now oppressive Creagh an Duine. Much as I might want to have climbed it, I was focused instead on how to attack a direct line to the summit. By entrance cairns I picked up an ATV track fairly quickly and easily, although it petered out before long, leaving a somewhat organic route upwards across the blaeberry, bog and heather towards the Creag nan Gobhar ridge. There was an obvious channel which seemed to give easy access to the ridge which I fancied, because even though I wasn’t destined to climb Creag an Duine, it was an impressive piece of rock, and I would enjoy looking at it. I quickly realised however that there was a group of 15 red deer blocking my favoured route, and so I diverted along the northern foot of the ridge instead.

Summit Selfie with Assynt at Rear.

What really diverted me though was the rich botany of my random ascent. I climbed oh so slowly simply because I kept having to stop to photograph such mountain gems as cloudberry, dwarf cornel and small cow-wheat. It was mid-June and all were in glorious flower. I’d seldom seen such a rich array of mountain flowers.

Dwarf Cornel.

Intermittent squalls didn’t help with progress. Waterproofs on and off, and then on and off again. In reality I was dry almost as soon as I was wet, and the weather, though threatening, really didn’t amount to much. I finally pulled clear of the initial mound of Meallan Odhar to my right and worked around the flank of the ridge to reveal the summit itself, steep, but eminently climbable ahead. Upon making the ridge proper, the lochan at 743m behind me became clear, as did the choire with its own loch. Craig an Duine now became immense and a serious proposition to the round of the coire. Even from a distance the potential challenges and rock steps became clear, and (feeling a bit of a coward!) my route choice became vindicated. A ring ousel sang from the summit cliffs and then flew across for a brief view.

Luchd Choire.

The view on the other side was equally, if not more attractive, of the Assynt hills, all familiar in outline and lined up in a scenic array: Ben More Coigach, Beinn an Eoin, Stac Pollaidh, Cul Beag, Cul Mor, Suilven and Canisp. The Summer Isles lay prominent beneath Ben More Coigach.

Loch Luchd Choire and Creag an Duine.

I was now anxious to gain the summit for the views and so didn’t dally further, arriving at 16:15, or five hours from the bothy. I spent fully half an hour by the summit shelter owing to the clarity of the all-round views. Only the Beinn Dearg range to the north held some cloud. Across the vastness of the Sutherland flows the bulk of Ben Klibreck emphasised its commanding position in the north, whilst cloud wrapped resolutely still around Ben Hope. Assynt, of course, captured my attention for the most part. Late clumps of moss campion festooned the summit surrounds as did the rarer and smaller mossy pockets of cyphel. The ring ousel sang, and even a pair of meadow pipits held territory on the summit plateau!

Beinn Dearg to the SSW.

If I’d been distracted on the ascent, I threw caution to the winds on the descent and stopped rarely, only to admire a common lizard and some yellow saxifrage whilst yomping down across Meallan Odhar. Back with the bike, cycling suddenly became easy, because not only was I careering downhill, but also down wind! I followed an estate Landrover for a period, not wishing to be cheeky enough to overtake it! It felt good to be pedalling after five hours of hill. I exchanged pleasantries with the ghillies about the low state of the river and the fishing, and before long I was back at the campervan making tea after less than an hour of a cycle down the glen!

Across the Flows NW to Ben Klibreck.

I’d accomplished another eight-hour day, and remarkably, for the second successive day in mid-June, hadn’t seen a single soul on the hill! To have such a beautiful massif all to myself for the day felt like a privilege. Its remoteness certainly helped.