free to be able to rate and comment on reports (as well as access 1:25000 mapping).
Today kicked off what was effectively Version 3 of my planned summer week gadding about the hills of Scotland in the seemingly never ending quest to reach the magical total of 282 Munros. Since 2008 when I registered on this site and effectively started what I guess could be called a hill "bagging" journey, my Munro quest has been slowed down by the fact that it has been running in tandem with similar quests to compleat other hill lists, most notably the Corbetts and the Fionas as they are known on here. Had all my trips since 2008 focused solely on Munros, I would have finished them some time ago. Despite sitting on 22 Donalds, I have managed to resist the temptation (principally from a gentleman by the name of Mr McConnachie) to try to add to this number for several years now, but have now had my head turned by some careless talk on a Whatsapp chat group about the Munro Tops. I also hold the owners of this site at least partly responsible for this since they introduced a Munro Top bagging log feature on here!
Sitting on 251 Munros and with 31 to go, I had sworn to myself that the priority for this week away would be the Munros. Version A of the plan was simple - leave Luna at home and head with the tent to Glenbrittle campsite on Skye to knock off a load of the 9 Cuillin Munros that are still red. That plan was kicked into touch by Mrs D who had a hissy fit at the idea of her week of absolute solitude at home without me and a hormonal 13 year old daughter being compromised by a farting dog
. Version B included knocking off some of my furthest north red Munros, including three in Fisherfield and the far northern pair of Hope and Klibreck. I could still have implemented this plan but due to complications involving a pair of curtains and a transactional meeting with a random stranger in the carpark of the Co-op in Ballachulish (a long story, too long to go into even by the standards of my walk report intros!
), Version C came into being.
The culmination of all of these different versions of the plan involved turning up at the WH meet near Roybridge on the Friday evening. After heading with Ailsa to meet my mother in law in Dunblane (Ailsa was going to spend the week with her cousin at her gran's house in Hamilton), I made the long, sometimes tortuous journey up through Callander, Crianlarich, Tyndrum e.t.c. to the aforementioned Ballachulish meeting, then through Fort William (with a brief supply stop), Spean Bridge and Invergarry before heading through Glen Shiel and over the Mam Ratagan pass to park near the campsite at Moyle. Here I packed for a potential two nighter at Suardalan bothy and made the 50 minute or so walk in.
I had made this same walk in back in October after leaving the WH meet at Ratagan. Kev had joined me and after binning plans for Sgurr Mhic Barraich in atrocious weather, we had done the Sub2K Glas Bheinn near Glenelg. After soaking up more water than is contained in the North Atlantic, we had dried out as best as we could and headed for Suardalan. We almost didn't make it due to what would normally be little streams that needed to be crossed having turned into walls of raging white water. We eventually made it and enjoyed a warm, dry night watching bothy TV in the sanctuary of Suardalan. It was then, looking south west towards the clag shrouded red balloon of Beinn Sgritheall that I decided I would one day turn it blue from this side, rather than the usual 89° angled ascent route from Arnisdale on Loch Hourn.
Today was that day. I had spent a quiet night with Luna, a few beers and a modest bothy TV arrangement in the RH room while 5 young German scouts on a long distance walk from Glenfinnan to Kyle of Lochalsh played guitar and sang dib dib dib songs in the LH room. I was away from the bothy with a small daypack on at 07.14, heading south along the track between the delightful little knoll of Torr Beag and Loch Iain Mhic Aonghais.
Leaving Suardalan - Sgurr Mhic Bharraich in the backgroundThe initial few kilometres of the route was a delight, leading through the glen between A' Chrannag and Ruighe na Corpaich before arriving at the signposted junction by the lovely little mixed woodland plantation of Strath a'Chomair.
Approaching Strath a'Chomair - Beinn Sgritheall and Beinn a'Chapiull looking good straight aheadOf course today was not just about the Munro of Sgritheall (or even its NW Top). I also had my eyes on the satellite hills - primarily the Fiona of Beinn a'Chapuill to the north west and the Corbett of Beinn na h-Eaglaise to the south east. This would already constitute a big day but then of course there were Beinn nan Caorach and Beinn Clachach further south east still.
Given the unsettled weather of this summer and the evidence of this morning even at this relatively early hour, it was a good bet that I was going to experience the whole gamut in the course of whatever the route ended up being. The early morning sun was dappling the ground through the tree canopy but there was a distinct nip in the air and a real chill to the breeze which was coming and going at will. The skies above my head also hinted at a mixed day ahead. There were patches of blue scattered around but I had little confidence that the blue would ever outweigh the grey.
Track alongside the Abhainn a'Ghlinne Bhig with Beinn a'Chapuill through the treesAnyhow, as I turned off the track to cross the suspension bridge over the Abhainn a'Ghlinne Bhig, the prospect of having to put the waterproofs on was far from being my most pressing concern. I knew from researching previous reports that the state of the bridge would probably be questionable and indeed, it was barred and a sign warned against crossing. I say it was barred but it was a simple piece of netting that was easily lifted out of the way. I studied the bridge carefully, as well as the drop to the river below and after watching Luna gingerly step onto the structure, decided that the risk was acceptable. I did this on the basis of having absolutely no experience or qualifications in structural engineering but hey ho, it looked a better bet than trying to climb down and back up the other side.
Fair warning!Once safely across (it felt perfectly stable but like I said, my structural engineering background is somewhat limited), getting Luna across the deer fence was a much more serious undertaking. I searched for gaps and weaknesses in the fence to either side of the stile but in the end it was a case of manhandling her over said stile in a most ungraceful like operation.
The long graceful east ridge of Beinn a'Chapuill now lay ahead of me. It was one of the things that had stood out in the reports I had read as being a particularly fine feature of this hill and this route and I was keen to experience it. First of all though I had to negotiate a rather unappealing and rough broad section of tussocky grass underneath the power lines. It was warm, sweaty work, despite the hint of almost autumnal type weather in the air, and the dreaded midge were doing their best to keep close tabs on me. Once beyond the pylons and a brief flattening off of the gradient, the graceful east ridge began to take shape.
Looking up the beautiful east ridge of Chapuill - bring this on!The best views were back down the ridge as height was gained. Every time I stopped and turned to look back down, the ridge had taken on a slightly different character but still resembled a giant reptilian tail stretching out into the distance towards my starting point.
Back down the ridge - Sgurr Mhic Bharraich in the distance and little Tor Beag just left of centreIt was our 19th wedding anniversary and I had left a card and present for my wife hidden in the house with instructions to our daughter to message her mum and let her know where they were, an instruction I fully expected her to forget, at least until about 48 hours later! I would message too, but I knew that I may not have signal until I had reached a certain height. As it was, my wife beat me to it with a Happy Anniversary message to which I replied with the whereabouts of the card and present. She admitted to being relieved to discover that I had not, as she had thought, forgotten our anniversary for the first time in 19 years!
Gleann Beag below the east ridgeDespite the beauty of the east ridge, it was still a long, tough ascent. The views opened up as I gained height, across to the brooding bulk of Sgritheall with Eaglaise tucked in behind, and down Glean Beag and across Kylerhea to the pair of Grahams on Skye that, unbeknown to me yet, I would end up doing in two days time. But it was the views back down the ridge and across into the jumble of Kintail peaks that commanded most attention.
Beinn na Eaglaise and Beinn SgritheallLuna berating the straggler on the long ascentThe Kylerhea Grahams on SkyeDown the ridge - what a majestic sight!Eventually, the sinuous east ridge gave way to the gnarly summit plateau with its sprawling assortment of rocky knolls and little lochans. I made a bee line for the 742m point out to the north, partly because it was the named summit and partly because it would probably give the best views across Kylerhea.
Gradient easing - looking south east across Beinn na h-Eaglaise towards the Barisdale hillsBeinn Sgritheall's back doorWest to the named 742m summitSgritheall across one of the summit plateau water bodiesGlenelg and the Kylerhea hills from the 742m cairnFrom there I looped back around to approach the 759m summit spot from the west, with a few stones lobbeed into the various lochain for Luna on the way. It was staying largely dry despite the heavy skies (the odd little short lived spit of rain aside) but it really didn't feel like we were on the cusp of August and what is supposed to be high summer. I know the Scottish summer is an unpredictable beast at best, but this summer has been particularly unreliable. It had much more the feeling of an early spring or late autumn hill walk. I was at least glad that the cloud was staying up high as being clagged in on this summit plateau would require some fairly serious navigational work.
Beinn Sgritheall from the 755m point with the summit just aheadFrom the summit I picked my way south east down easy enough slopes to the Bealach na h-Oidhche where I had a decision to make. Head straight up the steep northern face of the NW Top or sweep round on the curving ridge that ascends to the small flat area between there and the Munro summit at 974m. I opted for the latter.
Curving Sgritheall ascent routeA short distance into the ascent, I stopped behind a large rock that offered at least some respite from the wind chill and had my lunch. Refuelled, I continued on up the curving ridge, relishing the prospect of summiting only my second Munro since September.
Impressive cliffs and across Coire Min and Bealach Arnasdail to Sgurr na h-EaglaiseLooking down to the wee lochan in Coire Min - still a lot of distance and ascent left in this day yet!Back to the only tick of the day so far - Beinn a' ChapuillLooking up my second very impressive ascent ridge of the dayWhen the ridge topped out, I headed across the plateau to the 928m Top before heading back SE and then SW to grab only my second Munro of 2024. Still, it was a significant one, leaving me a round 30 to go on the long journey.
The 974m Munro summit of Sgritheall from the NW TopLooking back down my second very impressive ascent ridge of the dayBring on the final dirty thirty!I fired a few messages off before leaving the summit and dropping south east down the grassy slopes to the broad saddle below the scree strewn slopes of the 906m south east summit. It was distinctly baltic for the last days of July but a gentle enough stroll on gradual slopes allowed for a casual hands in pockets daunder down to the bealach. Knoydart was full steam ahead and I looked forward to my upcoming visit to the Rough Bounds in a few weeks time with Kev to finally claim Ladhar Bheinn.
Arnisdale, Corran, Loch Hourn and the shapely form of Druim FadaAt the 906m summit I met the only other human life forms I would encounter during the walk, two guys who had climbed some of the Dessary Munros the previous day and were taking a breather before their attempt on the summit! We chatted quite a bit about the vagaries of the Scottish summer weather, German scouts in bothies and the frustration of being caught behind long convoys of camper vans on roads with little or no passing opportunities. They said they had no intention of descending via their ascent route on the unfeasibly steep and loose scree path at which point I bade them farewell and set off down the unfeasibly steep and loose scree path before bearing left into the Bealach Arnasdail.
The Devil's own scree slopes above ArnisdaleAfter much slip sliding and more than just a little industrial language, the solid, unmoving terrain of the bealach was reached and the next challenge stared me in the face - the no-frills, straight up and rather brutal looking northern slopes of Beinn na h-Eaglaise.
Ladhar Bheinn across Loch Hourn from the Bealach ArnisdailHome is where the bothy is - it's way down there beyond the lochDespite their brutal appearance from the bealach below, the slopes of Bein na h-Eaglaise were not too bad. Steep, yes, but relatively straightforward and short lived. I soon reached the ridge a short distance from the summit and followed the line of old rusted fence posts up to claim the hat-trick - a Graham, a Munro and now a Corbett. When was the last time I did that in a day I wonder?
Approaching the summit of Eaglaise - to call it or not to call it!!??Beinn nan Caorach from the summit of Eaglaise and Luna thinking "Dear God man, please tell me you're not seriously thinking what I think you're thinking!"Dropping north east off Eaglaise - where now?I had messaged a few folks saying I was at the summit of Eaglaise and that was me done for the day (long walk back to the bothy aside of course) but the high bealach linking my route home to Beinn nan Caorach was now making me have second thoughts. I fired off a few more messages and Kaiserstein helpfully replied with a breakdown of how much time and ascent my proposed detour would add to my day. Thanks Kaiser! What the hell - it's still not going to be a patch on the day on Beinn Dearg and neighbours from Braemore Junction, so just do it man!
I made quick progress down to the broad, high bealach before swinging right and up the north ridge of Caorach. Call me pessimistic if you will, but something told me that adding Caorach to the mix would not come quite as easily and cheaply as it appeared it would. Still, in for a penny!
Looking back to the beautiful profile of Eaglaise from the north eastI had committed to adding Beinn na Caorach to the route despite my earlier conviction that the Graham-Munro-Corbett hat trick would suffice and as I made my way across the broad, flat bealach and up the north ridge of my second Ronnie of the day, the Weather Gods clearly decided that my impudence could not go unpunished. The rain came on and for the first time in a long day of unseasonal weather, the waterproof trousers went on. My impudence was rewarded with sketchy summit views when I got there!
Sumptuous summit views south across Loch HournI didn't dally at the summit. It was still a big walk ahead to drop north down over Sgurr Dearg to rejoin the track that would eventually lead me back to Suardalan. At least the Weather Gods seemed to relent and show a bit of clemency now that common sense had prevailed and I was calling it a day!
Lead on Luna!Back to Eaglaise and SgritheallBeinn nan Caorach from Sgurr DeargIt was a long but enjoyable walk back out once down onto the track in Ghleann Aoidhdailean and the Weather Gods actually treated me with a little bit of sunshine in the closing stages.
Better late than never with the sunshine!The sunshine was short lived but at least the waterproofs were off now and remained off for the rest of the walk. It had maybe felt quite autumnal for a walk in the dying days of July but at least it had stayed largely dry. I looked at my watch and wondered if it would be just under or just over 12 hours for the route. It was going to be close either way!
A last look back to Sgritheall and ChapuillI got back to Suardalan at 19.12 - two minutes short of a round the clock job. There was no sign of the German scouts or anyone else for that matter although a young Czech couple would arrive later just as I was getting ready to hit the hay.
I reflected on a great hill day - easily my biggest day of the year and one the seeds of which were sown back on a wet, stormy October night in Suardalan bothy 10 months previously. I do love it when a plan comes together! Now for the rest of the week!