The North Loch Mullardoch Munros - a cautionary tale

[bobble_hat_kenny]

Confession time I suppose - although I've always intended to post this WR, it's taken me some time to pluck up the courage to do so, as it definitely wasn't my finest hour.
So let's get the main points of this rather sorry tale out of the way at the start - although I did narrowly avoid the MR being called out, I tackled this epic circuit rather too late in the year in terms of available daylight, and probably not at my peak fitness (I've gotten fatter through the pandemic), ran out of daylight just as I reached the problem spot of the Allt Taige crossing, and ended up having to bivvy out overnight. Then, due to some rather daft decisions while bivvying, as well as (I have to say in my defence) a bizarre bit of bad luck, I managed to lose my rucksack and nearly all my stuff except my clothes - and including my phone and car keys. I therefore had to rely on the kindness of strangers to get me back to civilization. Also, had I not hit an unexpected good patch for phone reception around An Socach's summit environs (which allowed me to text my wife to alert her to the fact that I was safely round the four Munros but now very marginal for daylight, and that I would likely have to bivvy out, and please please not to worry), I really could have ended up in a situation where the MR got called out.
Some lessons learned, then, as you might imagine, but I'm posting this in the hope that it will at least provide a useful cautionary tale on How Not To tackle this epic circuit. Plus, I did actually get some surprisingly good photos (after I unexpectedly managed to recover my phone and the rest of my stuff, again due to the kindness of strangers).
I had found myself rather late in the year (i.e. 2022), with my Munros tally standing at 228. I was very keen to get to 232 if at all possible, so that I'd only have fifty left to do, but given that September was upon us, I was probably only going to manage one more outing (for Munros, anyway) before the clocks went back and the winter weather started. I'd had my eye on this epic four-bagger for some time, and rashly I decided to give it a go, thinking that even if I was well over the Book Time, I should still have a good 16 hours of daylight to work with.... Yes, anyone with a bit more sense could probably have seen this one coming .
I booked one of the camping pods at Cannich for a couple of nights, and took the Friday off work for the drive up, so that I could tackle the walk on the Saturday 3rd September then stay over at Cannich that night before travelling home on the Sunday (well, that was the plan, anyway).
I got up at 4:30 a.m., meaning to be off walking before 6 a.m. as soon as it got properly light, but due to some unnecessary faffing around over breakfast, plus the drive up the single-track road to the car park just before the Loch Mullardoch dam taking me longer than expected, plus forgetting my trekking poles (I blame sleep deprivation !) and losing a critical half hour going back to the car to get them, I didn't actually set off walking until 6:30 a.m. - the alarm bells should have started ringing right then, but of course, having gone to all that effort and gotten up so early, I made the wrong call and decided still to Give It A Go.
The forecast was mixed: cloud on the summits early on, clearing by around midday, but significantly windy all day with likely sudden gusts. Although the wind never felt dangerous, it probably slowed me down by another critical half hour or so ... and of course, it all adds up.
Anyway, here are my photos and a bit of narrative to go with them.
The route starts easily enough, with a good track along the north side of the loch.

However, I then made a minor navigational blunder early in the day, missing the bridge at the bottom of the Allt Mullardoch and continuing onwards up the track as it headed northwards up the east bank of the Allt, so that I eventually found myself high and dry at the point where the track ends at a turning circle, and faced with a rather steep climb up the eastern flanks of the Mullach na Maoile (which is the southern outlier of the first Munro, Carn nan Gabhar). I probably didn't add any significant distance or ascent to the route, but I gave myself a steeper ascent to the top of the Mullach than I'd otherwise have had. It "went" fine, but probably another critical fifteen minutes or so lost ... and of course, it all adds up .

Once properly up on the Mullach na Maoile, the going improved immensely, although (as per forecast) Carn nan Gabhar had its head firmly in the Clag at this early stage of the day.

A hazy view back down to Loch Mullardoch on the Carn nan Gabhar ascent:

Carn nan Gabhar sports two summit cairns. This initial well-built one isn't actually the true summit:

This much less prepossessing cairn appears to be the Real Deal, however, as my GPS confirmed.

I didn't hang about, but set off down the ongoing stony ridge to the Bealach na Cloiche Duibhe to tackle Munro Number Two, Sgurr na Lapaich. As "Sgurr" would imply, this is a much more imposing hill than Carn nan Gabhar, and even with its head in the Clag, the Sgurr had real presence. One impressive mountain, in fact, complete with a wee loch nestling at its feet !

It may actually have been a good thing that Sgurr na Lapaich's east ridge was partly hidden in Clag, as I've seen photos of it in better weather which make it look quite intimidating. There's a good path all the way up, however, and apart from taking me just a wee bit too long again, it was straightforward enough.
A good view back to Carn nan Gabhar, now almost Clag-free:

At Sgurr na Lapaich's summit trig point now, which is enclosed in one of those stone windshelter thingamajigs - definitely a good thing on this increasingly breezy day!

Although the wind was picking up steadily, the Clag now started to lift as per forecast, and my spirits were buoyed (fool that I was) by a truly stirring onwards view towards Munro Number Three, An Riabhachan:

The view back towards Sgurr na Lapaich was equally impressive!

Another marvellous vista down towards yet another small loch on the ascent of An Riabhachan:

As the website's Route Description warns, there is a relatively low bealach between Sgurr na Lapaich and An Riabhachan, and again the re-ascent of Riabachan took me .... well, a critical half hour more than it should have. The views were increasingly awesome, however, and I was still enjoying myself.
An Riabhachan also sports at least two cairns. This small one sits just east of the true summit, with the main summit cairn visible now not much further on:

At the main An Riabhachan summit cairn now, with an impressive vista back to Sgurr na Lapaich:

Only one more Munro to go, the famously remote An Socach - by far the most challenging of the three Munros of that name. Could I actually get this last one in the bag? It really didn't look that much further away ... but sadly, of course, that was deceptive .
A grand view back to the east end of Loch Mullardoch from An Riabhachan's summit cairn:

...And An Socach beckoning enticingly in the distance, with a lovely ongoing connecting ridge:

Beautiful though that ridge undoubtedly is, it turned out to be longer and scramblier than it looked, and with the wind now gusting quite strongly, I lost yet more critical time as I made my way rather slowly along it.
Eventually, however, I found myself at the foot of the final bit of real ascent to An Socach's impressive East Top - it is of course this aspect that gives the hill its Gaelic name, meaning The Snout.

A moment of suspended disbelief as I found myself standing at An Socach's fabulously remote trig point, drinking in the famous views ... but after a glance at my phone, I was truly alarmed at the time (now 3:30 p.m.!) and I realised that I was definitely in deep trouble in terms of remaining daylight for the walk back.
The views were something else, though.

Looking westwards towards the Torridon peaks, and with the Skye Cuillin looking remarkably close just behind them:

Me at An Socach summit - don't let that smile fool you; I was starting to panic a bit !

Looking out west again - a bit further southwards this time, I think:

To my surprise, although phone reception had of course been extremely patchy along the ridge so far, I picked up a purple patch at An Socach's summit (there must be a line of sight to a transmitter somewhere out west, I suppose), so that I was able to send my wife a text to tell her that I was at real danger of running out of daylight, but that I had bivvy stuff with me, that I'd done the hard bit of the walk, and not to worry or to call out the MR unless I hadn't phoned her by early the next morning...
An interesting view back to An Socach's summit environs and An Riabhachan in the middle distance, as I started the descent:

Thankfully, after the exhilarating but intermittently scrambly ridge linking the four Munros, which is undoubtedly rather hard physical work, the descent to the lochside down An Socach's south ridge is surprisingly straighforward. As per the website's route description, I cut across relatively early to cross the Allt Coire a' Mhaim at the bottom of the ridge, to avoid what would otherwise have been deeply unpleasant peat-haggery (you can't completely avoid the hags, but an early crossing avoids the worst of them).

As every Munros book (as well as the website) warns, however, the ongoing walk back along the very rough North Loch Mullardoch shoreside path is completely knackering and seems to go on forever. I pushed myself as hard as I could, being very mindful of my disappearing daylight, but I just couldn't summon the necessary speed. The "path" is a nasty, boggy, intermittent thing with frequent stream crossings, and with truly unpleasant bits of shoreside erosion where there are steep drops to the rocky shoreline of the loch - care is therefore required, and I wasn't able to make anything like as fast progress as I'd hoped.
And so, of course, I eventually found myself in deepening twilight at around 8 p.m., at the famously tricky crossing of the Allt Taige. Despite some brief flurries of sleety rain, the day had been mostly dry so far, and I actually managed to use the remaining "navigational twilight" to get across the Allt safely on boulders. In theory, I was nearly home, but it was almost dark, so I got out my never-previously-used-but-carried-just-in-case Head Torch ... only to discover that it was worse than useless; I'd bought a rather cheap and nasty one; a false economy if there ever was one .
So, just about 15 minutes after getting across the Allt Taige, I found myself in proper darkness, without an adequate torch, and with the path still intermittent with nasty wee eroded sections dropping steeply to the loch shoreline. It was obvious to me that it would be dangerous to continue, and that I was going to have to bivvy out .
I found a bit of shoreline where the drop to the lochside was fairly gentle and grassy, and got my bivvy bag out, using my rucksack as a pillow and a handy boulder as a sort of bedside table to put my specs on (I was worried that I'd roll on them overnight and break them).
It had started to rain quite heavily now, and the wind hadn't died down any. Fortunately I'd brought plenty of emergency layers, so after I'd put them all on (including hat and gloves) and gotten myself well down in my bivvy bag, I was definitely not at any risk of hypothermia, but it still wasn't the most comfortable night's sleep that I've ever enjoyed, needless to say .
I was completely knackered of course, though, so sleep I did - fitfully, but intermittently really quite soundly. And therein lies the problem, I think.
I woke up in the wee small hours needing a pee, and realised that I'd lost my pillow - my rucksack was nowhere to be found. I didn't worry too much, thinking that I'd locate it easily enough once I had a bit of daylight, and went back to sleep.
Daylight duly arrived, around 5:45 a.m., so I got myself out of my bivvy bag, dusted myself down and looked around for my rucksack, trekking poles and specs ................... which appeared to have completely vanished in the night.
Honestly, it was as if the Fairy Folk had made off with them . I couldn't even spy my walking poles, which I'd stuck in the ground as a sort of marker, but which must presumably have blown over in the wind overnight.
You'd think that a large rucksack and a pair of orange-rimmed specs next to a big boulder would be easy to find - but it was rough, heathery ground, there were an awful lot of big boulders, and of course I didn't have my specs.
Or my phone, or my car keys, both of which I'd put in my rucksack for safekeeping.
It probably didn't help that my rucksack is mid-grey. Very much Boulder Coloured, in fact.
Oh dear.
With the benefit of hindsight, I suspect I must have slipped or rolled a good few metres down the grassy slopes overnight in my sleep. I really looked very hard for a good half hour or so, but I still couldn't find any trace of my stuff, and I was really starting to panic about the time - if I didn't walk out soon and try to find someone with a phone so that I could let my wife know that I was okay, the Mountain Rescue would undoubtedly be called out ...
So, needless to say, I set off eastwards in a flat panic, thankfully picking up the intermittent shoreside path again soon enough (if I'd had my wits about me and backtracked along it, I might well have found my stuff again !). I'd actually been tantalisingly close to making it back safely the previous evening - it took me less than an hour to walk back to the car park, although that wasn't much use to me with no car keys. The nearest inhabited buildings were a row of three wee estate cottages a good mile and a half up the single-track road: to my considerable relief, a young couple were packing up their car, so I hollered them and gave them my whole sorry tale. They were extremely kind, calling my wife to let her know that I was fine (it was almost on the dot of 8 a.m. and she was on the point of phoning the MR, so it was in the nick of time from that point of view!), and then calling the estate factor to ask if he could pick me up and drive me back to the Cannich camp site. The factor duly arrived, and he was even kinder, giving me an extremely welcome breakfast at his place before taking me back to Cannich. He also promised that he'd ask anyone he saw tackling this route over the next few days to keep an eye out for my stuff, and to hand it in to him if they were able.
I got back to my pod at Cannich - more kindness from strangers; the campsite staff said that I could sleep in the pod for the day, as there wasn't anyone else due in to use that one, while I waited for my poor daughter to drive up from Glasgow with my spare car keys .
So, as I've said, not my finest hour. I did send an M&S gift card with a note of apology to the estate factor, to try to make up for what must have been quite an inconvenience to him.
And, as you'll have gathered from the fact that I have photos to share, another walker did indeed hand all my stuff in to the estate factor just a few days later, and he duly posted them down to me.
The key points that I hope I've learned:
- Ensure that you're properly fit before tackling an epic route like this, or failing that, tackle it in June and start walking at 5 a.m. to maximise available daylight!
- Buy a GOOD Head Torch - a cheap one is a false economy!
- Always keep phone, car keys and specs about one's immediate person (or somewhere in the bivvy bag), even if bivvying out!
I do nevertheless regard myself as having bagged these four very challenging hills, given that I made it back to the car under my own steam (even if I didn't actually have the wherewithal to drive said car). Beautiful as they undoubtedly are, I have to admit that I'm rather relieved that I'll never have to tackle them again now .

[richardtiplady]

Thanks for your honesty and candour, Mr Bobble Hat. I always appreciate your reports - the mix of helpful reportage, useful photos, and humour makes you one of my go-to WH walk reporters - along with Jaxter and Black Panther, you make up my (un)holy trinity of route advisors!

Salutary lessons for all of us here.

[weaselmaster]

Losing your specs must have had an extra layer of disorientation to the whole business- a frightening experience that thankfully turned out well. I’m relieved to see that there were no sanctions for the prime Strathfarrar crime of “leaving your car in the Glen overnight” which is posted up on the gate as a Commandment that thou shalt not do.

I’m just amazed you were able to fall asleep at all on a night like that. I’m bad enough trying yo sleep in a tent in bad weather let alone bivvying

[Plug]

I thought you did really well. It's a seriously long day at the best of times.

Your navigation was sound and you knew where you were. Losing your rucksac with key stuff in it was a palava but
this is an unexpected thing to happen.

You slept well anyway; how you can roll down the hill a bit without waking up is a gift I've never gained.

I'm hoping the ferry service on the loch starts again next year.

[Sunset tripper]

Great stuff Kenny, well done for posting, it's always good to see reports when things don't go to plan, and much we can all learn from such honest accounts. Glad it all turned out OK in the end.
I did An Socach from Kintail but haven't got round to the one next to it yet. I've always thought about doing it from Glen Strathfarrar...maybe one day? The other two I went up from the Mullardoch Dam with a fine descent over the munro top and down to the loch close to your bivvy spot.....it was a doddle in the daylight.

All I can say is I want some of what you were drinking that night!

All the best.

[dogplodder]

A gripping tale. The worst part must have been not being able to locate your rucksack, specs and car keys when time was such an issue. Glad you were okay and that you met helpful folk and eventually got your stuff back.

[Mal Grey]

An epic tale of an unforgettable day out. You were still making decisions that worked for the best, from a safety point of view, and I know I'd be in a bit of a state if my glasses disappeared! There are lessons in that for us all, so thank you for sharing.

Its also a reminder of how decent people can be, especially in the Highlands. Over the years there have been plenty of small acts of kindness that made my adventures that little bit better.

[kevsbald]

Ah Kenny!
Worse has happened to many more experienced before you, including me. You lived to tell the tale, and a day/night you and others will learn from. It’s the wee warning signs.

Hope all well with you now.
Kevin

[rockhopper]

A salutary tale, well told and illustrated. Just reminds us that, no matter how frequently we go out, we never stop learning.
Glad you got back OK and heart warming to read about the support you received - cheers

[Graeme D]

A true epic (certainly more epic than you'd have wanted at the time!) that makes for a gripping tale! There's almost enough in there to commission a feature film! I think it was Alan Hinkes who in his writings used some analogy about a whirlpool I think it was. What he said was that every little mishap, minor though they may be individually, pulls you deeper into the whirlpool and before you really have registered you are in trouble, you are in trouble that you cannot easily get out of because of the cumulative effect. Glad it all ended well and you can maybe even have a wee chortle about it now in hindsight!

[litljortindan]

Looks a great walk and I'm glad to read that it all turned out well in the end. A glasses case now added to my emergency equipment.

[gld73]

Oh gosh, glad it all came good in the end. I did the eastern 2 from the Mullardoch dam and the western 2 from the Strathfarrar side, and am thinking that was no bad thing having read your tale!!

[Sgurr]

I had stopped putting my spare glasses in my rucksack. A reminder to start again......but wait, what if I lost my rucksack????

[jayedubya73]

Glad all turned out well in the end. Enjoyed reading the report, the more open and honest these are, the more i can learn from them myself.

p.s. great photos, that walk is on the must-do for this year!

[The snail]

This is one of the best and most honest walk reports I've read !! The fact that even after doing all the hills before and having all the experience you have , it's still easy to overestimate how quickly you can cover ground. I've been caught out myself, but nowhere near in the same way as you . It must have been pretty scary , but at least you kept going (that's where your experience kicked in ) I'm fairly local to cannich and it's good to hear that a lot of local people were there to help you . We are a helpful bunch in the Highlands !!