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This week's song is an ear worm of Allison's, for a change. She was talking about doing some reminiscence therapy at work and bringing up the video for this classic by Peter Sarstedt from 1969. I remember it very well - along with "Yellow Submarine", "Cinderella Rockafella" and "These boots are made for walking" it was one of my childhood favourites. So where did we go to? Jura, of course!
It had been one of those weeks where it was just one perfect day after another (in the central belt at least) with cold crisp sunshine and no wind. How good if it were possible to match your weather to the days you have for making best use of it. Sadly that's not the case and it was with resignation that I watched the weather warnings for snow and wind come in for the end of the week. Not being sure just how much snow was around on the hills further north than those I could see from the house, I devised a cunning plan to stay outside of the weather warning zone and head to Jura. True it was forecast to be windy on the Saturday, but we've climbed the hills on Jura in high winds both times we've been there, so that wouldn't stop us. game on...
The evening boat from Kennacraig doesn't fit in with Allison finishing work after 4pm, so I booked the 1300 on Friday. We had a cold, but dry night at Honeymoon Bridge, nobody else there this time, and meandered slowly along to Lochgilphead in the morning. We stopped off there for a wander through the woods, up to the old A&B hospital which has all the hallmarks of closing down, if not already shut. Took me back to the days I would drive up there in June each year for meetings about the training of the junior doctors, in the days where I co-ordinated the training programs in Greenock, Paisley and Dumbarton, as well as Lochgilphead.
After a sunny walk along the front, which has been re-developed, we drove on to Kennacraig and ate lunch in the car, waiting to board the Finlaggan. We weer behind a group of Yanks who were clearly going for the whisky - one in particular kept going on about his love for "singlemalts". Haven't been to Islay or Jura for a while - sadly our stop on Islay would be very short and wouldn't permit much sampling of the island's famous product. The crossing was smooth, good views of the Paps from the boat and still sunny when we disembarked. This was in contrast to our first visit, when we arrived at 6pm on Hallowe'en in the dark and torrential rain and had to find a spot to put up the tent on Jura.
54E1E517-308D-43DD-AF9A-C18F0874461E_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
My plan today was to walk up to the foot of the mountains (should that be feet?) and pitch the tent, ready for an early start the following day - the forecast was for wind to get steadily stronger from lunchtime onwards. A couple of cars and our two selves on the Feolin Ferry. The boat was met by a minibus, something I hadn't expected, and which would allow you to head round to Craighouse (presumably that's where the bus was going) and do the hills from the east, if that was your preference - a cheaper option than getting the Jura Ferry over from Tayvallich, which was £20 per person each way last time we used it some 4 years ago. Anyway, we said we weren't taking the bus, to the forlorn driver who drove off empty and set about heading up the track.
The main tracks are good stony ones, easily cycle-able if that's your bag. There's a sea-side pitch before Inver Cottage and a few spots by the wood, if you don't mind the risk of being trampled by cattle...not that they were in evidence today, much to Allison's relief. But we were going higher...Across the strait we could see the Caol Ila distillery, one of my favourites, and as we walked further along the shore track, Bunnahabhain came into view. Memories of our Marilyn bagging trip to Islay came flooding back. We could see weather coming across Islay, what looked like either rain or maybe snow, but it didn't reach us. We enjoyed sunshine through the late afternoon walk. Finally we came to the end of the track and cut over heathery terrain making for Na Garbh Lochanan where we'd decided to pitch. There are a number of suitable spots around these lochans, maybe more than usual for us as the weather had been dry of late. We chose one that seemed to offer the possibility of shelter from the direction of tomorrow's wind (although around mountains, one never knows what the wind is actually going to do). We set up camp about 6.30 and had some Huel in the last of the light.
Port Askaig terminal and Call Ila
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Al, on Flickr
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Al, on Flickr
A'Chaolais & Oir
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Al, on Flickr
Local residents (we saw no people)
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Al, on Flickr
Weather coming over Islay
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Al, on Flickr
Beinn a'Chaolais from Na Garbh Lochanan
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Al, on Flickr
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Al, on Flickr
A very quiet night - no traffic noise, no people, no nothing. In fact so quiet that I wakened with a start when I heard the breeze rustle the cover on my rucksack. We were up at 6.30 and ready to go for 7. Makes a change from recent weekends for us...As we were brushing our teeth, Allison heard the first cuckoo of the year...normally it's the following weekend, around the 18th March, but early this year to our ears anyway. We had decided to do Beinn a'Chaolais first - just an up and down. If we'd had more light last night on the walk in, it would have been possible to come up the SW shoulder of the hill from the track - although that would have meant lugging all our kit up too, rather than leaving it all behind in the tent. The night had been cold: - the Lochandhu was frozen over and I was slightly worried that there would be frozen sections of the hillside that might pose problems as we'd opted to leave crampons in the car...but no, as it turned out. We took the usual path up, on mobile scree, disappeared into clag at the summit, then - at Allison's suggestion- took a line a bit to the SE which avoided all the scree on the way back down.
Frozen Lochan in morning
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Al, on Flickr
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Al, on Flickr
Off to Beinn a'Chaolais
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Al, on Flickr
Oir & Shiantaidh
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Al, on Flickr
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Al, on Flickr
631CC230-8CDF-4F28-AF08-CF8F01088CDF_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
From here we crossed over to Beinn an Oir, again taking the standard route up. Once again we encountered clag as we crossed teh boulder fields and made it to the summit. We managed to find the proper path on the way down, rather than getting lost in bouldery rubble as we did once, and had an easy time, comparatively, dropping to the bealach with Beinn Shiantaidh, where a sizeable group of hinds were grazing. We paused for lunch and looked at the steep face of Shiantaidh ahead of us. We had two options to consider - as there was, unusually, a ferry from Port Asking at 1800h that night, on account of the livestock market, we could go hell for leather and try to get back in time to meet that boat. This would require getting to the Feolin Ferry by 16.45. A bit of an ask. Or we could just enjoy the beautiful sunshine on Jura and stick to the original plan of heading back over on Sunday. I don't like having to rush for things and Allison wan't impressed by that idea either.
Ascending Oir
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Al, on Flickr
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Al, on Flickr
Oir
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Al, on Flickr
Shiantaidh
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Al, on Flickr
Climbing Shiantaidh is easier than it looks - there's a good path between the craggy bits and before long we were at the summit. I had a look in the box just down from teh summit cairn. Last time it had contained an emergency poncho and a log book. This time it had far more useful contents - a first aid kit and a SAM splint. Good idea! No poncho or log book however. And no bottle of single malt either
It was 12.25 by now and was too early to wrap up the day, given that the weather was actually better than the forecast had suggested and the wind, although strong when you were fully exposed to it, wasn't that bad. Yet. I suggested that we might add in the Marilyn of Scrinadle, which is an offshoot of Beinn an Oir and looked fairly easy to get to from the bealach between Shiantaidh and Oir. We climbed back down Shiantaidh and found useful deer tracks leading in the direction we wanted to go.
a'Chaolais
AFA7D41D-1BE9-476D-A677-46897BDD12EC_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
Scrinadle
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Al, on Flickr
Glenbatrick Bay
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Al, on Flickr
FC95311D-746F-4FEF-AB80-8D5B2814D87F_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
A'Chaolais & Oir
52AC40EB-7288-43AD-AE7E-092DCC7905CB_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
Stony summit of Shiantaidh
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Al, on Flickr
First aid containing box
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Al, on Flickr
The way to Scrinadle
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Al, on Flickr
It's about 3k each way to the top of Scrinadle from the bealach, past the more impressive Marilyn Corra Bheinn. easy going under foot and offering some different views of the Paps. The weather was still holding, although layers of high cloud came over, diminishing the sun. Off in the distance the silver sands of Glenbatrick Bay, with a large building I later found was Glenbatrick Lodge - privately owned rather than a bothy, sadly. The one looks to the north of Jura - a truly wild landscape that we must explore one day. The views from Scrinadle were well worth having come out this far for, and it was nice to get our first new hill for what seems like ages. The wind was fierce by now and we had to walk into it on the way back. This was much the same route as we'd come out then we took the easier option from the bealach between Oir and Shiantaidh back to the bealach between Oir and a'Chaolais - having learned the hard way that trying to contour round Beinn an Oir isn't recommended. The snow was just starting as we neared where we'd left the tent, both with a little bit of apprehension as to it having survived the winds thus far.
Scrinadle
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Al, on Flickr
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Al, on Flickr
1CF22EA8-64B1-4BE0-BC92-F16EAE1F1658_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
Shiantaidh & Corra Bheinn
FE5437C0-D86A-4605-90CC-53CADF71F7B1_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
Mull
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Al, on Flickr
Scrinadle summit
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Al, on Flickr
Closer view of Glenbatrick Bay & Lodge
00D4A797-CA9D-46B4-B475-208D68A17CAF_1_201_a by
Al, on Flickr
When we came in sight of it, it was looking a bit battered and woebegone. I hadn't remembered to "lock" the door flap and the wind had blown it open, scattering some contents out including our light mat which was nearly becoming airborne. The "sheltered spot" we thought we'd found clearly wasn't that sheltered at all! We looked at the forecast again: winds continuing strong from the SE, with heavy snow all evening, then the wind changing direction to W and becoming even stronger around 4am. Joy! We considered whether to pack up and head down hill to hopefully locate a more sheltered spot low down (in the dark) or whether to just brave it out up here. We chose the latter, but did move the ent about 100m nearer to the side of the mountain, where there was perhaps a little more shelter. Fortunately there were large rocks in abundance to weight down the guys, and I had some extra guy lines to utilise. We got set up and secured then retreated inside to try and cook tea.
The tent was being blasted and buffeted then the snow started. We could hear it for hours. A look out into the vestibule showed that it was full of spindrift - we'd taken the lighter 3-season tent rather than the more robust 4-season Nammatj which would have been fine in this wind. After a while the snow built up around the bottom flaps which stopped any more snow being blown inside
There was at least 4 inches there by midnight. Neither of us got much sleep and we were both dreading the change in wind direction that was meant to happen at 4am. Snow did turn to rain at some point in the night, and the threatened change in wind didn't affect us - we must have been sheltered from that direction as we could hear it howling above us in the mountain pass. Eventually light came and I cautiously peered out of the door flap. What a disappointment! Instead of the gleaming carpet of thick snow I'd been expecting there was no more than a few patches of snow remaining, the rain and the rise in temperature having done for the white stuff. Nor could we see the hills swathed in white snow as they were swathed in thick mist and were, indeed, not visible at all.
Not much snow to show for all those hours snowing!
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Al, on Flickr
We lay for a while, having no need to get up early today - the ferry not leaving til 3.30 and rain and mist not being particularly attractive to wander about Jura in. Eventually we did pack everything away and set off back to the track for a rather dreich launder back to the ferry jetty. There don't seem to be many boats on a Sunday, unlike during the week, with the first timetabled ferry being 2pm. So we made for that, then dumped our packs in the ferry terminal and wandered over to the Port Askaig Hotel for a wee refreshment. Now this was the establishment in which Allison first got her taste for whisky -back in 2015 she had been a confirmed whisky disliker (well she liked the smell of some of them but not the taste) and here she had her moment of enlightenment thanks to a 12 year old Port Askaig cask strength number. So we had to go and have one today. Then onto the boat for a nice smooth sail back to Kennacraig and a drive home in the dark and rain, during which we spoke with Paul Tattersal about some Skye summits for the summertime
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Al, on Flickr
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Al, on Flickr
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Al, on Flickr
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Al, on Flickr
Taking my pleasures seriously
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Al, on Flickr
