A full circuit of Blà Bheinn (with a few tips)

[Sherpa B]

There’s no good way to make a circuit of Blà Bheinn? Let me persuade you otherwise – parking at Camasunary Car Park, you can split the 9km walk-out across each end of the day, and going counter-clockwise gives you, I think, the best ascent and descent routes. Sure, it’s a big day, and it needs a good degree of hill fitness (which will be waiting to test you on the track out of Camasunary Bay!) – but I guess Blà Bheinn demands that anyway, and somehow I feel this exceptional peak deserves a big walk – rather like Suilven does.

So, here's a report of one of my best ever days in the mountains, which includes a detailed description of the ‘awkward’ (but I think entertaining) section to get to the South summit – an unavoidable requirement for this route.

The walk in

I got all my bad luck out of the way early on: twice returning to the car for things I’d forgotten, my insect repellent teleporting itself out of my rucksack, and then later reaching into my pocket to find no phone, forcing a worried half-mile backtrack to where I thought I last used it; thank goodness it was lying in the grass.

Things then got a lot better. After a straightforward mile along the road a path by the John Muir Trust led left onto a splendid stretch of hillside under the crags of An Càrnach, thereby cutting out the remaining 2 miles of road to Blà Bheinn Car Park. This was a great warm-up for a big day on a hill – easy strolling (albeit a little boggy in places) across moorland with views of Loch Slapin and the Red Cuillin.

The disappointment of there being no contouring path swinging around the foot of the crags to avoid the drop down to Blà Bheinn Car Park was mitigated by the path entering delightful woodland, alive this morning with birdsong and dominated by one of the day’s cuckoos – these solitary birds are able to project their call extraordinary distances in order to lure a mate and produce the next generation of sweet little murderous nest-usurpers.

The ascent

The path up the side of Allt na Dunaiche was nicely graded and drew me into the spectacular bowl of Choir a’ Càise, which gives a dizzying perspective of the exposure to which Clach Glas traversers are subject. Rather them than me….

Then the pull up Coire Uàigneich became steeper and rougher, and I found, as with much of this walk, that careful placement of foot and pole was required to avoid energy-sapping and path-eroding slips. But the mastery of such precise hillwalking helped to pass the time, and, a little over an hour after leaving Blà Beinn Car Park, I was at the point where the path turned sharply right to ascend the East ridge.

If you’re a scrambler there’s fun to be had on this ascent, which also provides an alternative to the worst of the scree. After an initial pull to pass the lower crags, the route swings right and then starts to become loose. I chose a path across the right-hand side of the scree channels, and soon came upon a rib of rock offering a nice scramble to the right of the most walked route. This then led to a steeper flank, where the Walk Highlands guide recommends a stony gully; however, to the right of it was a whole sweetie shop-full of scramble choices (including easy ones), so this was a no-brainer for me.

A word of caution – gabbro gives awesome grip and holds for scrambling – especially when not eroded by previous scramblers – but it can also be loose, so take particular care. At one point, what looked like a solid foothold gave way on me as I pushed off – a sobering reminder of the importance of 3 points on the rock!

Heading towards the right at the top of this steeper section brings you alongside of one of Blà Bheinn’s numerous monster gashes, drawing you up to the narrow 'bridge' at its top (around 780m). Here the view across to Clach Glas is awesome, and it’s well worth nipping across the bridge onto a narrow outlying perch surrounded by a whole load of nothing. Today it sat just above a cloud inversion which extended across most of the Northern Highlands, and I can’t put into words how it felt to be there.

It was still quite a long slog to the summit, but punctuated with lots to see, until eventually an entertaining gully gave further scrambling options and then popped me out a short distance from the summit. And then, well, you don’t have to search very hard to find out what a special place the summit of Blà Bheinn is; suffice to say, there were four of us at the trig point at the time and we stood in silence, trying to take it all in: the sea, the cloud-free Cuillin ridge, and then the sea of cloud which had made islands of the Red Cuillin and numerous peaks beyond.

Linking the summits

Look online and you’ll find all sorts of references to the South summit promontory that, for the rock-averse, bars the way between Blà Bheinn’s twin summits, particularly for those who have come up the South Ridge and need to descend it to attain the link to the true summit. However, I couldn’t find much to describe negotiating it in ascent from the true summit (North) approach. So here’s some detail, albeit with the caveat that I did this in perfect weather, when mountain challenges generally seem more achievable!

First thing to say is that, if you’ve a reasonable head for heights, and are happy to use your hands, this short ascent should not present a significant challenge – indeed, I found it great fun! Second thing to say is, if you use the ledge, the exposure is your presence above a gully (up to about 10m) – it’s not you hanging out over 500m of nothing. And the third thing is that this feels much easier in ascent than descent – the drop is less noticeable, and going up using hands and feet always feels easier than going down.

I didn’t try the gully to the left – I just didn’t fancy it, and couldn’t see how it would give any less of a sense of exposure, as it’s the steepest and longest option, and also requires a down-scramble to start.

So I first tried the ledge: it’s mostly straightforward – you walk along the ledge and choose from an ample array of handholds to keep your balance. There is a little crux, where you have to get around a boulder and then cross a notch where the ledge is less pronounced. But the handholds remain good, and should instil confidence while the feet work out where they’re going. Plus, you can have a good look at it and retreat if you want.

Pleasantly surprised by my experience of the ledge, I descended back down it and tried the more direct route up the nose of the thing (to the right of the ledge). It looked a little intimidating from below, so I cautiously made my way up, checking with each move that I could descend if I chose to back out, but I found it surprisingly easy – certainly far less challenging or exposed than other Grade 1 scrambles (Bristly Ridge in Snowdonia or Sharp Edge in the Lakes, for example). A few enjoyable moves led up onto a reasonably wide rake, and then the rest was straightforward and I felt little sense of exposure – less than on the ledge actually.

So I hope this helps if, like me, you’ve been wondering whether it’s for you. It does look intimidating when you approach, but maybe take a few steps onto it and see how it feels before backing out, as you might find you can do it.

The descent

I had the South summit to myself, and lingered here, drinking in the views and enjoying the geology. Blà Bheinn is separated from the Cuillin Ridge, but it is Black Cuillin through and through – rough, gnarly, dramatic and wild – and sitting on its summit it’s mind-boggling to think that your backside is resting on what was once the belly of a volcano.

The great thing about this counter clockwise circuit is that you get to descend the South ridge, which gives superb views out beyond Camasunary Beach to the sea and the Inner Hebrides. After some initial trickiness below the summit on scree paths, the ridge provides lots of interest, with steeper sections giving way to flatter, increasingly grassy platforms, and occasionally the view out West is framed between the walls of sensational gashes in the mountain’s flank.

Eventually a line of rounded basalt is reached, and the route weaves faintly and sharply down the mountain’s foot, to pick up a path down through grass, which eventually swings left towards the side of the valley before gently climbing to meet the track out of Camasunary Bay. This track will then take you the final couple of miles to the car.

Sure, the pull out of the valley is hard on tired limbs, but I found that the continuing superb views, and reflections on this day on the mountain of dreams, helped to pass the time. My final few hundred yards were overseen by a hovering hen harrier, before an overjoyed party of midges welcomed me back to the car.