free to be able to rate and comment on reports (as well as access 1:25000 mapping).
(My dad died fairly suddenly in the middle of the night after I returned from this trip - I don't feel like I shouldn't have gone, and I don't really feel that I shouldn't write it up, but it does feel a bit odd. He wasn't really a hillwalker, but he'd been up Ben Nevis (which I still haven't) and Goat Fell and maybe a few others, and always talked about walking the West Highland Way when he retired, although he didn't get round to it while he was still fit to. And he never quite got the hang of not going places - even when he could hardly walk to the other end of house he was still getting bright ideas about heading off to somewhere or other.)
I had been hoping for an early spring weekend in Oban, to make up for the very stormy trip I had there just before covid started, but with the weather forecast never really settling down I decided to head back to Inverness and have another go at the previous year's plan, the little cluster of subs to the south of Loch Ness. Jaxter has a report tagging these hills onto a longer bike ride, but no one seems to have written a report making them all into one long walk, although they fit quite nicely into a walk from the lakeside bus route up to the bus along the parallel valley past Farr.
I went up by train, since trains were cheap on the Friday, and then straight into Pizza Express for efficient dinner. I was staying in one of the hostels in town this time - a bit of a magical mystery tour to find the bar in a completely different street which gave me the key, but a peaceful night with only one other person in the room.
Early in the morning I was down at the riverside for the trip down to Loch Ness - Dores is still pretty, and the weather was better if not quite as bright as promised, but the wee cafe van is gone and the pub is shut.
- Loch Ness from Dores
Still, I wasn't hanging about, just heading onto the road uphill towards the little junction past Achnabat. The first hill, Tom Bailgeann, was the one that I did get done in last year's snow and cloud, but I was keen to do all four on the same day, and since there's a track all the way up it's not too much extra effort.
- Tom Bailgeann track
The first part of the track is pretty steep, and the last part is pretty wet, but it's really not bad, and I could see the whole of Loch Duntelchaig this time, which made a difference. It was pretty windy at the top, but there was plenty of clutter to find shelter behind for my elevenses, although I was disappointed to discover that Costa had given me a blueberry muffin when I'd asked for a lemon one.
- Tom Bailgeann summit
The map swears that the other little top is lower, but it doesn't look like it, and I decided to wander over anyway - there was a tiny path, so I wasn't the only one. Lower or not, it is a nicer top with a better view.
- Lower summit
From the descent I could look straight over to the next hill, but with a rough dip in between it was easier to retrace my steps to the junction with the even more minor road, to pass a little bit of lochside and then leave the road again quite quickly on a track which said it was (sometimes) the Trail of the Seven Lochs, which I would keep meeting through the day.
- Little track through the trees
It was a nice little climb through trees and into a field, but my real aim was to get to the fence which led up to the bottom of the craggy face of the hill - there was a kind of path through the heather, although I wasn't sure it was a hillwalkers' path.
- Climbing by the fence
The first hill looked a bit more dramatic from down here, with a great cleft down it which hadn't been visible from the road or the track.
- View back to Tom Bailgeann
The fence ran out quite dramatically at the foot of a crag - the ground to the right of it wasn't quite as vertical, but it was still a pretty steep climb. I was never quite sure if I was following a very faint path or just an illusion, but as long as it was an illusion that kept to the slightly less rough parts, that was all I needed.
- Loch Duntelchaig from the steep ground
It seemed to take quite a while, but the slope did eventually ease to a broad top. There was a definite little path up here leading past what someone elsewhere rudely called a 'silly cairn' - it doesn't mark the summit, but it does mark a way across the top.
- The silly cairn
The actual summit is on another little raise beyond a boggy dip - I kept to the right hand side because it looked flatter, but that was the wrong plan, as it was very wet.
The cloud was starting to clear a bit now, giving some nice lighting effects.
- Light effects
The cairn over here didn't exactly mark the top either, although it wasn't far off - it was one of those highest tuft places, although quite near the top of a steep slope.
- Creag nan Clag summit
Coming back I kept to the ground nearer to the top of the steepest side, which was drier and generally nicer. I'd wondered if there was a way down in the dip between the two tops, but although I'm sure it's possible it didn't seem pleasant - lots of rough vegetation to get through to the road even once you're down the steep bit - so I just kept on to retrace my steps to the fence.
- Above the steep edge
From above, where it was easier to see flattened vegetation, it did look like there was a kind of path down the steep part, although I hadn't kept to it all the way up. I'd meant to follow the fence back down to the track, but when I reached the point where the fence met the crags there was nothing between me and the road below except a brackeny slope, and I just headed straight down it to sit on the verge and have lunch with a view of the lake.
I was now back on the tiny road, but it was very minor - I don't think anyone drove past me all the time I was on it - and very scenic, with green fields and grey stone walls and brown hills and white buildings.
- The minor road
I had Loch Ruthven on my right now, rather than Loch Duntelchaig on my left - it definitely was a land of lochs, although I never managed to count to exactly seven - and a distinctive hill which was nothing to do with my route well ahead of me.
My third hill was neither by the roadside nor very distinctive - it was somewhere in a group of tops well to the north of the road, beyond forestry plantations. Tracks led most of the way towards it, however, and I turned off through a gate onto a long straight stretch heading up towards a smaller loch, and then slanting up above it.
- Forestry track
It seemed a long time before I reached the junction in the track, but I got there eventually, and turned right. I had a vague idea that there were two possible firebreaks, and no idea which I was looking for, but when I stopped by a gate to see if the map gave me inspiration I happened to look down and see the remains of several logs crossing a ditch, which sparked a sudden memory of the 'Jaxter route' starting that way.
There's no real break, just a bit of a gap by the fence, but it works pretty well as long as you're willing to duck occasionally and dodge the worst of the mud occasionally.
- The Jaxter route
Eventually the fence ran out on the edge of a firebreak, which was beginning to fill with young trees higher up. It was just about possible to find a way through - easier on the left - but all a bit spiky.
- Young trees
Above the trees it was a mix of heather and bits of bare rock - all the hills had something in their favour, but this one had the most attractive summit area, and a nice view of at least seven lochs.
- A view full of lochs
I climbed up to a cairn on a rocky top, and discovered that had just brought another cairn on a slightly higher rocky top into view - the ground wasn't as good in between, and it would probably be better to avoid the first top if you remembered in time. A nice little summit, with more of a view of the Monadhliath hills now.
- Stac na Cathaig summit
I kept to the right of the first top on the way back, which brought me a bit to the right of my particular break - I knew what my gap looked like, but hadn't really thought I'd need to know what it looked like. Going down I discovered that it was easier to keep slightly inside the larches on the right hand (downhill) side where it was all quite open.
It was still before 3:30 when I got back to the road, and I felt like things were going quite well, as the last hill seemed to be one of the easier ones. Round a corner and down to the RSPB place where a sign at the carpark offered me Slavonian grebes - but I knew nothing about Slavonia and little about grebes, and the one thing I did know was that starting by heading along to the hide got you in trouble later.
I had had a strong impression that there was supposed to be a path up the hill, but there was no sign of one, either by the car park or further up the hill, which seemed to be deep in vegetation. So I had another think and decided that either the mention of the path had been in a report coming up from the other side, or it must start where a path was shown on the map a bit further along the road.
There wasn't much sign of that path either, but having started off making my own I did pick it up eventually as it led along to a gate. From there a fence led up into the gap between two little ridges of the hill - there wasn't much sign of a path, but it did look like a perfectly plausible way onto the hill.
- Another fence
At first it was rough but fine, further up it was very deep in heather - there was possibly better ground a bit away from the fence, but I'd have had to wade through worse stuff to get there, so it didn't seem worth it.
By the top of the fence there was rock rising up on my right, the kind of slopes and shelves that you could probably find a way up if you really had to, but although the summit was somewhere on that side I was sticking to my valley while I could. The wall of rock at the top of the valley looked quite intimidating at times, but I was reasonably confident that even if there was no way directly round or over it there would be a way onto the left hand ridge - as it turned out it was simple enough to head to the left of it.
- Wall of rock
Once again there was something that might have been a faint path or might have been an illusion, leading through a dip and then a little rake to a flatter area with another fence and the little rocky summit rising from it.
- On the top
I was suddenly completely worn out and miserable - not so bad that I didn't think food would revive me, but not great. I decided to get to the trig point before eating, though, only to find myself climbing into a wild wind that I hadn't realised the valley was sheltering me from. Still, I managed to find the most sheltered side and get something to eat, and it was a lovely little summit - evening light now, although I still had plenty of time to get back down.
- Stac Gorm summit
I walked along from the trig point to a rock at the other end of the little summit which looked like it might be higher, and found myself on worn ground running between them - by this point I'd completely forgotten about the possibility of a path, and was quite surprised, but this was definitely clearer than anything I'd seen on the way up.
It seemed worth a try, so I went back to collect my bag from the trig point and had a look around for more signs of a path - it was quite narrow, but definitely there, dropping down quite steeply at first to give a dramatic view of Loch Ruthven.
- Sunset light
So that was a pleasant way down - my way up wasn't terrible, and there had been a real sense of being involved with the hill rather than just wandering over the surface of it, but it was rough. (This hill seems to be notorious in a very small way for leading people onto the wrong route, but usually at the other side!)
Further down I passed the enormous rocks and realised that I really should have remembered that a path led past them, and just hunted until I found it.
- The big rocks
There turned out to be two beginnings to the path, one over the fence from the carpark where a fire beater leant against it and one over a broken gate from the road, but neither were at all obvious at their start.
I had a nice amount of time to wander up the last stretch of road - an evening sky now, with the tiniest of new moons showing over the river. The bus timetable said that the stop was by the phone box, but there wasn't one, so I just chose a sensible spot and waited.
I was the only passenger on the bus, which I think was really running back in from taking people home, and it was a bit dark now to really appreciate the new roads - it also deposited me at the edge of the town centre on a road I didn't know at all, so I just had to walk on with my sore feet until I recognised something, but I made it to the pub beside the station for dinner.
