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It's been a few years now, since I discovered mountains. After a childhood of exploring my teenage years saw me focus more on music, and it was only an invitation to the lakes around 2018 that got me back on track with, among other things, Sharp Edge on Blencathra. Pandemic interruptions aside, in the last few years, I have found myself on more and more mountain trips, mostly to the lakes, adding in scrambles like Striding Edge and Jack’s Rake, but until July, I had never been to the Highlands.
That changed thanks to a trip to Clovullin on the western shore of Loch Linnhe, with the same group of friends who took me on that first Blencathra trip, and with whom I had since done a deal of indoor climbing as well as lakes trips and the like - including Alex, Stefan and David (of
Venison fame), who I count as the top tier of mountain people in the group. (Coincidentally, the group is centred around one of my choirs - the venn diagram of music nerds and mountain nerds has, it turns out, some significant overlap).
The plan for the trip was casually formed - there are, of course, many excellent mountains in the area, with both Glen Coe and Nevis in easy reach, and I think Alex, Stefan and David probably had mental lists of the Munros they had not yet bagged. For my part, I had found out about a few of the exciting looking scrambles in the area. I thought, if I was lucky, I might get to approach Nevis via the CMD Arête. And if the weather was bad, well, there were to be around 18 of us, in a fabulous old house, with board games, a swimming pool, good books, all the choral music we could find online and enthusiasm for Raptor Sardines. Of course, it wouldn’t just be mountains (several of the group being rather less passionate), but if the weather held out I was optimistic.
Fate was on my side. We arrived to glorious weather and surprisingly minimal midge presence. With MWS looking very promising for our first full day, we decided there could hardly be a better way to start the trip than with the ascent of Ben Nevis. And we weren’t about to take the pony track.
Sunday 28th July 2024 - Ben Nevis via Ledge Route and CMD ArêteThe start of the day was not, perhaps, the most auspicious. We planned to leave “by ten”, as many of us were tired from the journey up. But we were conscious that WalkHighlands suggested the CMD route might take 9-11 hours. With travel time, it could be a rather late finish. At 9.45, we were madly rushing to get the 10am ferry over Loch Linnhe, but shortly thereafter abandoned the plan as unlikely to suceed. We caught the 10:30 ferry instead, and after a drive up through Fort William and a brief competition for a space in the North Face car park, we were off, shortly after 11am.
- Seven of us set out that day...
As we left the car, the final plan remained only half-formed. Alongside the CMD arête, the Ledge Route had been mooted. Having very much enjoyed the scrambles I’d done in the Lakes, and as a keen indoor climber, Ledge Route sounded fabulous, but some of our group were apprehensive about more than a grade 1 scramble, and I suspected we would end up settling on the easier option (especially given there were seven or eight of us in the group). Still we made good time through the first few hundred metres of climb, enjoying first woodland shade, then gentle cloud cover.
It was only when the routes divided that we finally came to a decision. To my excitement, a larger group, including David and Stefan (who had yet to climb Càrn Mor Dearg), would ascend Nevis via the CMD Arête, while Alex and I, along with our keen climbing friend, Hugh, would take on the Ledge Route, aiming to meet at the summit. It’s fair to say I was quite excited by the prospect, both of the ascent, and of claiming Nevis as my first Munro. We bid farewell to the larger party, and set off towards the CIC hut, the north face of Nevis looking extraordinary in the August sun, with only the very summit in cloud.
- Walking into Ben Nevis
- The North Face comes into view
The walk into the CIC hut felt deceptively long (especially given my reference point of English Lakes) and by the time we arrived, we were ready for a break and some snacks. The back of my left heel was also starting to rub (a perennial issue), so I applied what I hoped would be a preventative compeed while we reviewed our topo.
- The route finding begins
We opted for the easier grade 1/2 variant of the route, bypassing the initial (grade 3) slabs at the base of number five gully, and, despite some initial uncertainty about b route finding, made excellent time (helped by often following a clear path) behind the Moonlight Gully buttress, past the twisted column and toward the balanced boulder, which is itself an amazing starting position. Then the real fun began.
- The twisted column (aka the Jenga Tower), a very helpful waymark
The ascent up the ridge was, frankly, brilliant. Exposed, but not in an alarming way, clambery, but not technically challenging. There was always a hand or foot when you needed one, and we opted for the optional grade two final crescent, comfortably reaching the summit. Honestly, it felt as though it was over almost before it began, and we paused at the top of the scramble to take in the view from Càrn Dearg and toast our success with an Irn Bru jelly sweet (quite the revelation for me), before joining the masses on the summit path.
- Ledge Route - my hat is silly, but it does the job
- Nevis' North Face from CMD - Hugh, Alex and I are somewhere amongst the gullys and ridges
Having never climbed Snowdon, the masses were also something of a revelation, though a less positive one. I will concede to being impressed by the walkers who had made it to the top with both a dog and baby (the latter in a back carrier, with dog poo bags clipped to the sides for removal - I suppose the baby is used to such smells!). But overall, it is fair to say that I did not long to spend hours in such extensive company - I love the mountains not least for their isolation.
Sitting on the summit plateau, Alex, Hugh and I kept our backs to the cairn and observatory ruins, and enjoyed a serendipitously timed break in the clouds to look over the route we had just climbed, in all its glory. From a distance, it was hard to imagine threading one’s way through the harsh rock of the north face. But we had done just that, and felt no small amount of pride. After sandwiches and a quick photo, we checked in with the second party, and based on their description, came to the conclusion that they remained some way off the summit. Of course, we now had the bit between their teeth, and the CMD Arête looked inviting in the early afternoon sun. We decided that, rather than going back with them together, the three of us, moving quickly, could descend via CMD in almost the same time as it would take the second party to reach the summit and return to the North Face car park. Besides, we would pass them on route and could update them on the plan.
- Looking North West from the summit of Nevis
We set off with confidence, but perhaps too little planning, and we had been moving for perhaps five minutes when Hugh realised that we were, in fact, heading toward the North East Buttress of Nevis, rather than tracking south east towards the start of the CMD Arête. Disaster averted, we followed the contours round and down, and were soon back on path. But the receipt of a message from the second group made it clear that we had missed them thanks to our detour. We updated them on our plan and continued.
CMD Arête was, in some ways, even more fun than the Ledge Route. Certainly the scrambling was easier, but the view it afforded over the North Face of Nevis was fabulous in the sun, and we made comfortable going, summiting Càrn Mor Dearg around 5pm. Thanks to occasional updates from the other team, we hoped we could avoid keeping them waiting for much more than half an hour if we pressed on and bypassed the Càrn Dearg Meadhonach top (something for me to come back for). Still, as Hugh led our swift descent, I was increasingly aware that my compeed application had not, in fact prevented a blister - and keeping pace on proved a challenge, not aided by some boggy conditions underfoot. More than once, I only just saved myself from significant mudding. Still I more or less kept up (while putting in the most conservative bid for our finish time).
- Hugh sets off along the CMD arête
Unbeknownst to us, having descended to Lochan Meall An t-Suidhe, the other group had been resting up, and watching our progress on the descent. So we were more than a little amazed that our two parties met just at the junction of the two paths we had taken that morning. After sharing our amusement, we headed back down towards the forest (with a brief interlude to watch Meadow Pipits, and although we separated a bit on the final forest descent, there cannot have been more than ten minutes between our first and last arrivals at the car (a relief, as the midges were starting to descend). Footsore but widely satisfied we headed for home, a hot meal and hotter baths.
That evening, it became clear that my compeed had actually been misplaced, and had, if anything, amplified the rubbing as the edge caught on a problematic boot seam. Well, there was no point crying over spilt milk. Nonetheless, I opted to rest up on Monday, while the tier one Munro baggers went on something of an epic in the eastern Mamores. I joined my wife in a relaxed morning swim and a pleasant trip to Glenfinnan, with only a gentle walk from the parking spot (the “official” car parks being full) and up the hill to admire the Jacobite steam train’s passage.
By Monday evening, we had more or less settled on a plan for the rest of the week, including a gentler walk on Tuesday (to give the Munro baggers time to recover from the Mamores expedition), a bigger day on Wednesday, and perhaps one more walking day after that, weather depending. Not that our Tuesday plan was anything to be sniffed at. We opted to take on Garbh Bheinn, the one Corbett on the Ardnamurchan peninsula where we were staying, with just under 1000m of ascent. The key selling point, though, was that it was close and short in distance, so i would have no trouble getting back in time to take my turn as group caterer.
Tuesday - Garbh Bheinn of ArdgourA relaxed departure saw a substantial group set off for this outing, and begin our climb up a mountain rather more straightforward in form and technicallity than Nevis. As we made our way up the south east buttress of Sròn a' Gharbh Choire Bhig, we messedd on whatever easy (grade 0.5?) scrambling we could find, for the sheer joy of moving over lovely, grippy rock.
- Tom, Hugh and Ali take a break
We soon achieved what many of us believed to be the summit (I was without a map for the route, my Harvey’s BMM not extending west of Loch Linnhe, and was largely reliant on others for the day), and paused for lunch. It was only after snacks had been consumed that it was pointed out the true summit was to the North West another half mile or so, with 75m of descent and 135m of rise still to go. That was enough to prompt half the group to call it a day. But myself, Alex, David and another one of the group, Ali, felt coming that way and not claiming the summit would be a waste, and as the going proved easy, we were quite happy with our decision.
- Alex eyes up the true summit
Unfortunately, after our departure from the false summit, Ali realised she had left her thermos of tea, so would have to reascend on our return leg. Still, that was a future challenge. For now we pressed on for what seems to me to be a sadly neglected summit. Certainly, we saw no other group who made it that far, and the views over the Ardnamurchan Peninsula were brilliant, stretching out to the Sound of Mull and Ben More in the South East, and Ben Nevis to the North West, across a never-ending maze of empty, hilled country. Garbh Bheinn of Ardgour is a lovely mountain and one which looks worth a return visit should I ever learn to trad climb.
- Alex, Ali, David and I on the summit of Gharb Bheinn
As we descended from the summit to the intermediate col, I figured we could avoid some additional climbing by following a different path to the one we had taken on our ascent. Rather than making directly for the false summit, we could take a path which headed south, and then cutting east along the contour of the mountain until we regained the main route (sending Ali up the hill to retrieve her bottle, without the load of a rucksack). My colleagues were not convinced, but with great conditions, a charged phone and everything else I would normally carry on a mountain path, I felt comfortable splitting off.
The going was good, and though I lost sight of my friends sooner than I expected, I continued on my way with minimal misadventure. On one occasion, I did slip in a bog, enough to tear my trousers and graze my knee on a rock (which, thanks to psoriasis, bleeds at the slightest provocation). But no real harm was done, and I continued on my way to cut across my friends’ path. They were soon spotted above me on the south east ridge and, having paused to clean up my knee, we continued happily down an easy descent, discussing our jobs and our favourite music (and trying to move fast enough to keep the midges at bay). We got home in good time for me to cook a (well received) casserole; it had proved a light, but very satisfying day.
So, the stage was set for what would be my last big day of walking on the trip - as non-walking plans would occupy the last two full days for the trip. That evening we discussed our options. The weather looked great, so we could certainly aim big, but (sadly for me) the Aonach Eagach was out, as several of the group had already completed it. The Ring of Steall was also mooted, but given my blistered heel, my preference was to trade scale and duration for technical difficulty. After our successes on Nevis, I was pushing for the exciting grade III scramble up Curved Ridge on Buachaille Etive Mor. But there was some doubt in the group as to whether we would be too large and (perhaps) too inexperienced to take this on - none in our group had completed it before, and while we were experienced walkers and indoor climbers, and we had a rope for emergencies, we did not have full gear for running anchors etc. Still, we were confident the technical elements were not beyond us. Six of us were leaning towards Curved Ridge, but we agreed to sleep on it, and see how things looked in the morning. Either way, it was to be an early-ish start and a big day.
Wednesday - Curved Ridge on Buchaille Etive MorComing down to breakfast the next day, it swiftly became apparent that our six had become a four, with Hugh and Ali (both of whom I would put without judgement, in the second tier of mountain people alongside myslef), having opted for a leisurely day at home instead (it being Hugh’s birthday). This redounded to my advantage, as Alex (who had the rope, and a partial mountain leader qualification), had decided he wouldn’t have been comfortable with a group of six on the Curved Ridge. Four, though, that seemed entirely reasonable. So we set out for Glen Coe, reviewing the guide book and admiring the stunnning landscape as we went.
After securing an acceptable parking spot, (with a small backtrack along the road), we began the walk in, passing a fashion photo shoot in the ford before the Mountaineers hut, and taking the left fork towards the Rannoch Moor, the seemingly impenetrable, rocky slopes of Stob nan Cabar revealing themselves on our right.
- Photo shoot in Glen Coe. As you do
Initially the going seemed good, with a clear path which rose gradually from the glen, towards the base of the technical routes. Having passed the wet slab, we were soon able to identify the Rannoch wall, Crowberry Ridge, and D Gully Buttress to our left. The guide book had rammed home the importance of steering right to avoid ending up on D Gully Buttress. But we had also read (repeatedly), that finding the correct starting point was probably the hardest part of the route.
This, it turned out, was no understatement.
- Stob Dearg,. Some... challenging route finding awaits
Having swung right, we tried and abandoned more than one route. One walker below us soon disappeared out of sight. Finally, we found ourselves at what we thought might be the way to the base of the route, and I went ahead to scout the way. As I ascended, I got the feeling that, while I hadn’t set hand on a grade three scramble, this felt more like a climb than I anticipated, and we risked becoming crag-fasted if we continued onwards in error. In the absence of tell-tale crampon scratches, I downclimbed and we reconsidered our options. Alex thought we ought to skirt further right, and swiftly disappeared round a corner to explore our options.
At that point, our salvation hove into view, in the form of a trio of burly guys moving swiftly and confidently up the mountain down to our left (the route we had come). Demonstrating true mountain leadership, Alex hollered down to ask where they were heading, and it became clear they were making for Curved Ridge. Having already been rebuffed once, we opted to throw our lot in with what we hoped would be some more expert route finders. Moving over to them, I was both pleased and frustrated to see the route’s start only a few yards round the corner from our first aborted climb - so close, and yet so far.
We soon learnt that the leader of their group had made the ascent nearly twenty times. So we were somewhat disconcerted when, on getting to the base of the scramble proper, the guys began to don harnesses, distribute gear and rope up. They assured us that we could do it without the gear, but it did not put our minds at ease. Nor did my first failed attempts on what we thought were the starting moves. I descended and we opted to let the experienced party lead the way. This turned out to be a wise decision, as it soon became apparent that even experienced scramblers can misplace the start of the route. The party’s leader suddenly disappeared round a corner, and popped back to say that the true start was just there. My ego somewhat massaged, we followed in their wake, and all of a sudden we were off.
- The real work begins
- Congestion on Curved Ridge
- Stefan looking casual
The first party set off and we followed, cautiously and with due respect, up a beautiful ridge line. The ascent was steep, but much of the time, no harder than climbing a step ladder, so many hand and foot holds were provided. As the other group placed their gear, we moved slower than we might have done otherwise, but following our route finding challenges, we were happy to wait for them to lead the way. After all, it meant we had many opportunities to stop, catch our breath, and then have it taken away again by the astounding view, as the Rannoch Moor opened up eerily to the east.
- There would be worse places to be cragfasted
The relative ease of our climbing boosted my confidence, as did the discovery that the lead party were only placing gear as practice for future winter ascents, where, inevitably, the margins for error diminish dramatically. We had not been dangerously naive in our choice of routes! And now here we were, enjoying some fantastic scrambling. Every so often, climbers passed us, descending from more ambitious ascents - always good to have something to come back for - but I was having a whale of a time.
We soon reached the route’s crux, a short ascent of a gully or corner, with a high right foot to start and slightly less good hands than we had previously seen. Nothing that would have deterred me at a bouldering wall, and here, there was a small ledge before the challenging moves, reducing the exposure, but though I easily made the climb, I did find my heart racing slightly more than it had before.
- David takes on the crux of Curved Ridge, Stefan and I wait below
Some more simple scrambling and we were at the base of Crowberry Tower. Here, we opted for the simpler route round the back, and did not attempt to summit the tower itself. Having negotiated an unpleasant scree ascent (one at a time, calling out when we dislodged rocks), we were rewarded with the fabulous view through the gap towards the west end of the Blackwater Reservoir, behind Beinn a’ Chrûlaiste.
- Scree...
- Crowberry Gap
- Crowberry Tower and the Ranoch Moor (which really does feels odd, when one is so used to seeing hills)
More easy scrambling and we were more than a little amused to see the walker we had previously lost sight of, sat atop Crowberry Tower. But the distraction was brief as we were soon toasting our success on the Stob Dearg summit. Photos, fruit pastels and thanks were exchanged with our impromptu guides, who mentioned some of the other epics they had done (from the Aonach Eagach, to canoeing the length of the Great Glen). After sending a progress update back to the group (so they knew we weren’t dead, but we’re behind schedule due to the route finding challenges), we bid farewell to the second party, and headed off along the Buachaille ridge, towards Stob na Broige.
- Stob Dearg summit
- Alex in his happy place. Stob nan Cabar on the left, and beyond it, the Aonach Eagach
- If you know these guys, thank them from us
The walk felt like a small thing after the excitement of the scramble, yet once again, Scotland blessed us with clear skies and fabulous views towards Bidean on our right and Glen Etive on our left. We exchanged pleasantries with the few other walkers and made good progress, reaching Stob na Broige around 4pm. As we rested, one of the walkers we had overtaken joined us, and told us of his impressive Munro bagging exploits, often seemingly tackling challenging scrambles in winter conditions, despite openly admitting how much they scared him. One way to keep your heart healthy I suppose.
- Stob na Broige summit, looking south west to Loch Etive
The time came to depart. We began to retrace our steps, before cutting down the north west slope, towards Lairig Gartain. Having carried a rope all that way, Alex was keen to take the opportunity to practise some skills for his mountain leader qualifications, so David and I took turns playing the role of terrified twelve year olds in need of a comfort rope or a gentle belay, while Stefan looked on in amusement.
- Alex practices his mountain leadership skills
- Looking towards Buachaille Etive Beag, the River Coupall, and our walk out
We reached the valley floor and the path which follows the River Coupall out to the A82. The path was an unexpected delight at the end of a long day, being dry and well maintained, but also slightly springy, like walking on soft turf, and what might have been an interminable walk out instead felt really rather pleasant. Before we knew it, we were back at the A82, and navigating the slightly unpleasant stretch between the main car park and the lay-by we had actually parked in. Forget the grade three scrambling, that was probably the most dangerous part of the trip!
The rest of the holiday passed swifty. Our evenings were consumed with good food, games and singing. Thursday saw us taking a relaxing day trip to Mull, exploring Tobermory’s delightful shops and waterfront, followed by a swim in the Lochan at Ardgour, and our first stag sighting. Friday was quite different; the weather finally breaking as we canoed on Loch Linnhe, with high winds giving my upper body it’s turn to work hard. Then we were packing up and heading home.
As we drove back through Glen Coe, the clouds loomed over Bidean and the Aonach Eagach, weighty with intention. My first trip to the highlands had been astounding. I had absolutely no doubt I would be back.
- Dramatic weather on Loch Linnhe, the Nevis Massif in the background
