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On Tuesday I finally got back out to the hills after multiple delays, for my first attempt at Munros in the entire year. I had climbed Beinn Dorain and Beinn an Dothaidh in 2011, which feels like ancient history now (for several reasons
). I was planning to finally complete the Bridge of Orchy Munros by climbing Beinn a' Chreachain and Beinn Achaladair, then looping over to the remote Beinn Mhanach, then back to Coire Daingean and back down to Achallader Farm.
New car randomly purchased.
However, I had offered to do the school run, and combined with the M8 traffic I didn't reach Achallader until almost 11am. Sunset was 7.22pm, but I figured that I might just have enough time to get back from Beinn Mhanach to the path in Coire Daingean as light began to fade. In the end....well, it wasn't even close.
This sign is for the return route, if you're going clockwise.
I suddenly remembered after two minutes that I had forgotten my walking poles, so had to dash back for them. I would need them (like, *really* need them), and a lot sooner than I was expecting...
The Mallaig train. The last civilisation I would see for a long old time...
Achallader Tower with the Wall of Rannoch behind.
The first ford was ok, but then it had barely rained for a week beforehand. I was nervous about the second one further upstream (this is just a tributary to the Water of Tulla, not the main event), as I had seen reports that the bridge is gone.
Beinn Achaladair looking pretty splendid.
After about an hour I branched off at this post, as there was a faint path heading down to the site of the old bridge. I figured from previous reports that I would have to ford the river just after passing the remains of the bridge.
Dunno what that is.
Oh...! Erm, it's still there? Well technically anyway. This is a surprise.
(You ain't seen me, right?)
It was ok with walking poles, but there were two bits in the middle where the materials closed in and there wasn't room to put your foot, so a couple of hops were required. I just hate fording rivers that much, sorry...
There was a faint path from the bridge that led round the edge of the ancient Crannach pine forest, then through a section of it and through the railway tunnel. It was a better tunnel than I'd expected; Peter Crouch would have to duck but most people would probably be ok if they just watch their head.
The Big Buachaille appeared in a bit of sunlight, as the climb began to steepen after the railway.
Clouds were starting to gather up ahead in the corrie, but the views were great, with this series of waterfalls next to the path.
Eventually I reached the Lochan a' Chreachain, and this was a great place for a seat and a snack. The only thing irking me was the time. It had taken 2hrs 45mins just to reach here, and even with the abnormally long walk-in, it had taken a full 1hr 40mins from the bridge. Already I was starting to question my plan to go for Beinn Mhanach at the end. Am I still suffering from Long Covid maybe?
I had it a month ago, but the only symptom that seemed to stick around was the cough and even that has just about faded away.
I passed my only human of the day after leaving the lochan. We agreed that there doesn't seem to be a path around this bit (Walk Highlands mapping shows one the whole way up, but it leaves the burn before you reach the lochan, and I wanted to see the lochan). He confirmed that there's a good rocky path once you reach the ridge, which invariably seems to be the case on Munros.
This next bit was tortuous to be honest. There's something about steep grassy slopes that I can't seem to handle: the section of the Ben Lui climb between the forest and the ridge was one of the worst experiences I've ever had on the hills (having to stop every few dozen steps). It was a massive relief to stumble across a good path around the 900m mark, which then turned sharp right and up towards the final ridge.
Almost in the clouds now, but Loch Lyon has appeared over to the East.
Rannoch Moor, looking beautiful and bleak at the same time: the trademark look.
A random view up the length of Loch Ericht.
The lochan now looks like it's miles away underneath the corrie, but that's only a 300m descent.
There be a cairn, up there in the mist.
Finally, and almost exactly on the four hour mark, I reached the summit of Beinn a' Chreachain. The first Munro of the year is always a great moment, even if it's in September...
The Top of Meall Buidhe (why is every hill always called Meall Buidhe?) lay ahead. Beinn Mhanach was officially shelved now, and it reverted to the normal plan of the two Munros (plus the two Tops as a bonus).
I actually lost the path leaving the summit, as it turns out that you should retrace your steps a little then turn left. But it was ok, as I picked it up after passing through a steep awkward-ish boulder-field.
The path heads along the left side of Meall Buidhe but never seems to climb, and was actually starting to descend. I remembered the WalkHighlands report that says it just gives up halfway along, and headed up a short steep section to the main ridge, then passed the small cairn at the summit of Meall Buidhe.
Ok, this bit'll be good.
The path headed down to the 813m col, with Beinn Achaladair looming ahead. The lochan earlier reminded me of Lochan nan Cat in the Lawers range, and this bit reminded me of the approach to An Stuc (maybe not quite as steep, but similar).
I ended up having to scramble two or three brief times, also like An Stuc.
Beinn Mhanach: an actual idea I had for today.
A random bolt of sunshine breaking through the clouds over Beinn a' Chreachain.
It was only with a random map/GPS check near the top (I had the paper map but it was often quicker to check the phone) that I suddenly realised the 1036m cairn isn't the summit. The true summit is slightly further along at 1038m, with a much less glamorous cairn.
Looking back to the 1036m cairn on the edge of the Wall of Rannoch.
Finally, almost six hours(!) after leaving, the summit of Beinn Achaladair.
There should be a nice view here of the South Top. But, err, there isn't.
My car is down there! Where's a paraglider when you need it?
(Dangerous things though: I remember when Del Boy used one in Only Fools and Horses. Rodney tampered with it and he nearly ended up in France.)
I nearly missed the South Top altogether. The main path seems to head round to the right and before I knew it I was heading downhill again. I scarpered up to the left, found this humorously small cairn and scarpered back down to the path again.
Finally, at around 5.50pm (and after passing through a sheep convention near the South Top), I reached the head of Coire Daingean. I couldn't quite believe I had genuinely planned to climb Beinn Mhanach today.
Maybe it was always too ambitious: doing the school run, leaving Achallader only 8.5hrs before sunset, the huge walk-in, two giant Munros, then heading off into ye wilds for the massive extra climb of Beinn Mhanach. Maybe WalkHighlands' estimate of 7-8 hours is a tad optimistic? (The book actually says 6-8 hours
) Or maybe I just have Long Covid and didn't quite realise. But either way, light was fading, and that was with Beinn Mhanach chopped from the route...
To add insult to injury, Coire Daingean is brutal at the end of a long day. The path wasn't actually clear at first and I lost the route at least once, before heading back towards the stream and eventually picking it up again. It just...goes on forever. It's clear from the map that it's several kilometres, and almost a 600m descent to the farm. But when you look out at the head of the pass, it just doesn't seem possible that it's almost 2000ft down from there. Maybe the distance robs the height of any perspective.
Plus there were bits like this. The Bad Step, but without any of the fun.
After an absolute eternity (and countless stream crossings, and a random bit where the path crossed the Allt Coire Achaldair only to cross straight back!), I finally got down into Coire Achaladair and towards the railway bridge. A massive new track for some development appeared over to the right, next to the river, but it seemed like too much effort to get down there and cross the river yet again.
There had been one or two very light showers earlier, but heavy cloud was sweeping in now.
Phew, the railway. Surely nearly there now...?
Random Tadpole Alert.
It was a huge relief to reach the railway bridge, and it felt like 'the climb proper' was basically done now. But light was fading quickly: it was ten minutes after sunset, and I still had to cross a moor on the shortcut footpath back to the car park.
I don't know if this is just a helpful shortcut, or an attempt by the farm-owner to turn the main track into a 'private' route. Either way I was heading left, as it seemed like a handy route. At the time...
"AAAAAAAAH!!!"
A massive blister appeared from out of nowhere. It felt like a bee sting, it was so sudden. I nearly collapsed. The path was a complete bog-fest, even worse than the Coire Daingean / Coire Achaladair path (which had the distinction of being rocky *and* boggy at the same time). Light was disappearing by the second now. It was becoming a genuine struggle to see the path at all.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!"
I fell into a massive ditch, Vicar of Dibley-style. Only the left leg, but still a complete pratfall. I was caked in mud up to my knee, and had to haul myself out with my hands. It was almost 8pm by now. The car park was hidden by a hillock or something, but even then I probably wouldn't be able to see it in this light.
I found this sign. Surely I was still on the right path. Actually I wouldn't mind giving them a call now, even if I'm only about 200m from my car...
To my enormous relief, the path picked up in quality, headed round the edge of a small hillock next to a stream, and came out at the sign I had passed nearly nine hours earlier.
It ended up being a bit more traumatic than I'd hoped for. I had no Runrig in the car, because it turned out the showroom had lied about the AUX connection (eh, there isn't one, as it turns out
). The whole drive was dominated by me nervously looking at the petrol gauge, to see if long-distance driving is as bad for fuel consumption as city driving (turns out that it's actually better?) And the plan to tag on Beinn Mhanach ended up turning into a bad joke, as even without Beinn Mhanach I still had 35 minutes of stumbling about in fading post-sunset light. But it was still great to be back on the hills. It might be September, but it's never too late to bag your first Munros of the year......
