free to be able to rate and comment on reports (as well as access 1:25000 mapping).
Getting time to get to the hills can be challenging with a young family. In order to allow it into my life and still attempt at being a functioning father I have been driving through the night and reaching summits for sunrise and heading home as soon as practicably possible following. As a result, writing walk reports has been non existent and as much as I enjoy documenting my hikes, it is very time consuming and my hat goes off to the regulars on this forum that spend hours of effort into writing and documenting such detailed accounts of there adventures.
- Charlie and mum enjoying the views from Beinn a'Chrulaiste
The Fisherfield round always inspired me as being one of the defining moments of the Munro round. It has an aura of mystique being deemed some of the remotest locations in Scotland, far away from help or rescue it had a forbidden lure and not to be underestimated. My original strategy for tackling the round was to summit camp on A'Mhaigdean in a nice spring weather window hopefully prior to midge season. Sometimes a forecast comes along and it allows a window of opportunity or at least to dream about it.
- I think it's going to be a nice day....
The 10 day trend from the Metoffice the presented by an extremely confident meteorologist showed a zone of deep high pressure centred over the NW Highlands. There had been reasonable snowfall, but nothing crazy and abit of thaw and refreezing that helped consolidate that snowpack, id been to Liathach for a traverse on hogmanay
- Liathach on Hogmanay
and although there was some decent snow to be found it was never heinously deep. The idea of the Fisherfield round crossed my mind and the more I thought about it the more the idea seemed perfect. A full day of low temps but clear skies and sun, snow capped mountains, possibly frozen bogs and no anxiety about ticks or midgies. The only drawback is the amount of daylight hours, around seven. For a hike that when setting off from Corrie Hallie could take a full 24 hours especially in snow. My understanding partner recognises the annoying obsession I have with the weather and sometimes she can just tell when I incessantly talk about a spell of high pressure that its probably easier to say yes to my bizarre and selfish requests of excursion. I worked out that a midnight start from Corrie Hallie may allow me to be at the least at the Corbett of Beinn a'Chladheimh for sunrise and hopefully be on Ruadh Stac Mor for sunset and get back home to the central belt around 1am. I must admit even I was a little surprised when she agreed, but we bargained a deal with looking after the bairn and she would have time away to enjoy that blocking high pressure once I had returned home.
- 🌙
I left Edinburgh around 7pm on Sunday the 7th. I arrived at an empty layby at Corrie Hallie around midnight, pitch black and -5. I observed a sign saying beware of bull with calves and I recall after the traverse of An Teallach the stench of cow dung. I casually sauntered through the gate thinking that signs just there as precaution and there in the darkness staring right back at me was an enormous bull with a smaller looking beast perched behind it. I paused nervously and shimmied along the frozen turf, daring not to look into it's eyes, once several metres away I quickened my pace and once away from the smell of faeces I could relax into my stride. Arrival at the first river crossing was tedious but there was massive underlying excitement, the sky was crystal clear, not a cloud. On reflection I think this is the stage most sane individuals would call it a night and aim for the bothy to sleep for a few hours, probably why I go hiking alone. I'd brought neoprene socks, a towel, three pairs of spare socks and talcum powder in an attempt to keep my feet dry. The neoprene socks worked surprisingly well, the icy cold river crossing only feeling bracing and not painful, if anything slightly refreshing and woke me up a little reaching just above knee level. I removed the neoprene and did my best to dry my feet.
- The first river crossing
Once the ascent began I felt great, I thought to myself, "Brilliant I'm already climbing" and I was certainly ahead of schedule. The steep sided Beinn a'Chladheimh has crags dotted around it's ascent and gave the opportunity to put on crampons and replace the poles with ice axe. The excitement once again built in my mind. Once on the summit ridge, a white knife edge with a seemingly infinite darkness to either side in the pitch black of night (around 2am) made me hesitate. I shuffled my way along gripping my ice axe with intensity, I could have been on any mountain in the world my senses were gripped and this was the exhilarating feeling I seek desperately. Nevertheless I was relieved to see the ridge drop down steeply but broader than what it initially looks in the dark. Reaching the summit felt good and it's a real shame this Corbett is literally only a matter of inches short of Munro status and is left out of this round by dogged munroists only seeking arbitrary ticks next to a Gaelic name.
- The snow maybe made it just over the 3000ft mark 😂 Beinn a'Chladheimh
Continuing on to Sgurr Ban, it's broader continuation allowing for more casual walking and I occasionally turned my headtorch off to gaze at the endless stars above my head. It was simply magical, I walked past frozen lochans and felt in a very empty, distant land. The wind picked up on the plateau of Sgurr Ban and I noticed in other walk reports a mention of a distinct wind shelter, this however was covered in snow so I would wait to drop down off the summit to change socks as my feet were colder and wetter than what I'd hoped.
- Summit of Sgurr Ban, crossing this flat topped summit under the stars, although completely dark was one of the most memorable moments
The summit of Mullach Coire Mhic Fhearchair looked immensely steep from this side bathed in white and with still hours till sunrise I pressed on. As I gazed up to the summit I observed a shooting star, cheesy I know but sometimes nature gives you a sign that 'everything is going to be just fine'. Some confident ice axe and crampon technique required for ascending and before long I was on the summit. It was around 7am and I was pretty chuffed with timings so far, well ahead of schedule however it was very cold and the thought of the sun's warmth kept me positive in the growing light. I didn't hang around the summits long and pressed on to Beinn Tarsuinn.
- Looking back at Mullach coire Mhic Fhearchair
- Localised fog and inversion conditions
- Pre sunrise light, a mixture of relief and excitement. The rising of the sun giving a sense of security out of the darkness
Luckily there is a bypass path etched onto the side of Meall Garbh allowing a straightforward passage to the unusual looking summit of Beinn Tarsuinn. I arrived at the fourth summit of the he day at around 815am, the glow from the sun was unmistakable that it would be a clear and flawless sunrise. I was quite amazed to be in such a location for sunrise, the summit offering a 360 panorama of the Fisherfield and Letterewe forests with Torridon, Slioch and An Teallach all surrounding in an immense arena of remote and steep peaks.
- Summit of Beinn Tarsuinn
- Gently folding fog lower down
- An Teallach with a vivid belt of Venus its backdrop
- Fisherfield starting to wake up
I struggled to stand still, pacing back and forth to keep warm but I wanted to see the colours develop from this summit and I wasn't disappointed. The surrounding peaks with untouched snow turning pink and what hours ago seemed like such an intimidating,dark and distant venue in a matter of minutes became an absolute wonder.
- There is no feeling that matches walking in this, at least for me anyway
- Alpenglow on A'Mhaigdean
- An Teallach framed between some rocky sections on Beinn Tarsuinn
I bypassed any scrambling on Beinn Tarsuinn to the left, this provided enough excitement anyway with a couple of moves using the torque of the ice axe on rock and manoeuvring my body to safe positions for onwards progress. From here, Beinn Tarsuinn drops to a col and a low of around 525m. The lack of snow at this level reminding me of a tough slog to come. Nevertheless quite a bit of the bog in this section was reliably frozen so wasn't too bad. I knew this next ascent was the 'tough' part of the round so I tried to get into a steady pace, maintain my heart rate and rhythmically step and breath. The sun was beating off the blanketed white slopes of A'Mhaigdean and I was even feeling some snowblindness, frankly a welcome novelty. The sweat was dripping off me and I was down to a base layer, despite air temperature being around -2 by this point.
- The changing perspective of An Teallach is one of the most impressive aspects of this round
Reaching the top of A'Mhaigdean is all what people say it is. It is undoubtedly special. Perhaps the best view I'd ever seen which comes with an incredible sense of space, remoteness and personal satisfaction. The solitude is unmatched to anywhere I'd ever been. The maritime view with the peaks of Torridon and Slioch to one side, the beautiful corbetts of Beinn Dearg Mor and Beag with the finest of them all An Teallach looming massively, it's hard to take it all in and I would love to come back to this place to summit camp one day. I facetimed my Granny who had compleated the Munros in 1997, she mentioned Fisherfield a few times to me so I thought she would appreciate seeing the view of A'Mhaigdean in its winter glory. She was really chuffed for me and wished me well. I then facetimed my other half who was equally pleased and possibly relieved to see me doing fine. In a way it seemed odd to be phoning family, I thought this was meant to be the remotest spot in Scotland but I had pretty decent 4G, however it felt great to share this moment with loved ones and made it somehow feel slightly less lonely.
- Summit of A'Mhaigdean - the finest viewpoint in Scotland?
- Looking towards Slioch and Torridon
- Could be a peak in the Peruvian Andes
Ruadh Stac Mor from A'Mhaigdean looks impenetrable, I was actually a little nervous at it's prospect but guides and walk reports dispelled concerns and there is a safe passage on closer inspection. This is one of the shortest and quickest sections of the day as it turns out, getting down to the col was straightforward and still a somewhat lofty 800m meaning not as much reascent as the others. Plus this last bit of ascent is steep, seemingly vertical feeling. Once on it only a few unprotected metres of cramponing and ice axe on some reliable snow meant good progress and before long was on the sixth and final summit of the day.
- Taking in the last of the maritime Fisherfield views, from the final summit of the day Ruadh Stac Mor
Lacking the clifftop feeling of A'Mhaigdean it feels slightly less dramatic but nonetheless sensational with panoramic views all around and a mixture of satisfaction having made it this far but a realisation of how far was still to go. Fortunately I had made good progress and was ahead of my very rough projections and a good couple hours until sunset. I surprised myself that I was actually feeling okay, not completely burst from the effort.
- Suppose I better get moving again, still a long way to go
Heading down passing frozen lochans and empty vast spaces with towering peaks around it still did not feel like a chore and the phenomenal views and surroundings helped motivation. It takes a good bit of walking on an okay stalkers path before you reach the next significant obstacle which is the second river crossing and the notorious bog of Strath na Sealga, if you can call it a bog. It is more a body of water with floating vegetation not like the bog you get on the likes of Ben Lui, dense muddy and squelchy. I put my neoprene socks back on for the river crossing and decided to leave them on for the 1.5km of comically deep bog. The most unnerving part was that the bogwater is actually not just tepid but actually quite warm, I had thoughts of acquatic winter ticks latching onto my legs in this organic living marshland. Any attempts to skirt round the deepest sections are fairly pointless and you have to accept the inevitable. Another river crossing and I made it to Shenavall bothy just as the sun was starting to set at around 4pm.
- Gentle reflections on Lochan a'Bhragdad
From here to the carpark was around 4-5km trek, simple enough, I thought. The sting in the tail is a 200m further ascent up an intermittent path of bog, verglas ice and misshapen rocks. This was cumbersome and time consuming and at this point I accepted that efforts to keep feet dry were useless and I would deal with the inevitable trenchfoot once back at the car. I met the first people I'd seen the entire trip a bunch of guys with some very heavily laden rucksacks I wished them well and told them what an unbelievable place they were about to visit was but could barely talk much more than that as I was so dehydrated. I almost asked them how far it was to the layby but didn't want to sound like a lost hiker.
- Ruadh Stac Beag reflections, scenery still stunning on descent
Eventually I made it back to the smell of cow manure and felt relieved. The bulls this time even closer to the gate than earlier. I felt braver if not a little fed up of walking so strolled confidently past this time and said my farewells. I made it back to Edinburgh by 11pm and didn't wake the bairn up from his sleep. Success.
- A wild empty landscape
On return to my family, my other half headed Northwest to seek some of that good weather and she made it to the other (and probably undisputed) best viewpoint in Scotland.
- Normally I'd be jealous, but I can't be too greedy
I would be interested to hear from those who have struggled in there relationships and family lives to balance hillwalking and being a parent or partner. Sometimes I feel very selfish indeed, a narcissist chasing ego driven objectives, especially since having my son. I want to feel fulfilled but I also want to be a good father.
- The best winter expedition in Scotland, you'll have to give it a try to find out
