The Central Fannaichs – a grand day out

[Mal Grey]

The Central Fannaichs – a grand day out





Its debatable whether our first proper Scottish winter week was 1989, or 1990. The former saw a couple of us wading through snow on Beinn Damh and to Coire Mhic Fhearchair, but it wasn’t until the next year that the group of 3 of us who would become the regulars came up together, with another who fell by the wayside. So Steve, Nige & I would probably agree on that one being the first together. This year, we reckon we’ve got to 30, missing just a handful of years for one reason or the other. As well as the stalwarts, Pete has made a showing a few times as well. From this we have learnt that it always rains when Pete comes, and there is never any snow when Pete comes. Pete was coming. There was no snow. And we’d ended up at Glendhu rather than a mountain bothy because of the rain. Our traditions were being maintained.

One tradition that has changed recently, is alternative accommodation for the post-bothy part of our trip, for Steve has recently got him and his family a place up close to the road between Gairloch and Dundonnell. I can live with this choice.

The bothy part of our week was over, you can read about our days in Glendhu elsewhere, but we were still hoping for a decent mountain day. The final day of our time together, the Friday at the end of the first week of March, seemed too good to be true. The showers were dying away, and the wind was due to drop at last. Where would we go?

All of us had a gap in our summiting for this area; the central bit of the Fannaichs, namely the 3 Munros running north-south down the middle of this range of fine hills. I wasn’t at all convinced my dodgy knee would manage 3 Munros, but I was keen to at least give it a go and get onto the fantastic looking top of Sgurr nan Clach Geala. We decided to get the walk in out of the way first, and start from the southern end at distance Sgurr nan Each, then hopefully continue northwards over the highest Munro, and if we had energy and cartilage left, add Meall a’ Chrasgaidh if possible. We had a plan.

The parking at the Loch a’ Bhraoin track is a familiar spot to us now, after a few trips to the bothy and to the two western Fannaichs. Quickly we made our way down to the loch, working out that the paths no longer quite match the map near the boat house before walking through the pleasant woodland to the footbridge.









After the bridge there’s a choice. Low and boggy to a footbridge over the Allt Breabaig not far above its confluence with the Abhain Cuileag, or take the better path on the west side of the glen, knowing there would be a river crossing to be made about a kilometre further up. We chose the latter, with levels relatively modest, and enjoyed the walk up past cascading little drops of sparkling water. The hills were looking moody, as the mist clung to their flanks more stubbornly than the forecast had suggested, but there were definitely hints of the hoped for clearing.









There were lots of places “almost” good enough for a dry-shod crossing, though every one involved at least one committing long stride or jump, sending us looking for better upstream every time. Eventually we realised it was what it was, and where a narrow island split the stream into two, we worked our way across. Boots were in the water on hidden, slippery, rocks but nobody had water come over the top.









Continuing onwards up the glen, a couple of showers had us wondering if that improvement was going to come, but after giving us a gentle warning, the last was soon behind us. Mist still clung to the imposing damp crags of Sgurr Breac to our right.















Our route took us, after about 3 miles of decent path, to a slight steeping at the head of the glen rising to a low bealach. This was our key to accessing the two southern hills, and from here we took a rising traverse towards the high col of Cadha na Guite. It was steeper now, and almost pathless, a tad damp underfoot too. We topped up bottles at the bottom; especially Pete, who had somehow left his only water bottle at a previous stop when taking off a layer and now had to beg for spare off us. Fortunately a couple of us had carried up additional drinks so were able to down these and let him have a couple of plastic bottles. The climb commenced, very warm and sweaty for March! Sgurr Breac looks impressive from this angle.








Our first summit ahead.














Apart from a short steeper band to work through, the climb was steep but straightforward, and soon we were on the col, contemplating our first summit; an out and back to Sgurr nan Each. Cadha na Guite is a great spot, with views of the eastern tops and the great flank of Sgurr nan Clach Geala with its dripping east face, reminding us we had some work to do later.


















The climb to Sgurr nan Each seems almost too easy, on a decent day like this one. An initial top gives a great view of this shapely peak, before an airy but easy wander along the edge climbs gently to the top.


















It’s a great top, with a real middle-of-nowhere feeling to it, high above Loch Fannaich and a good 8.5km walk from the road. We declared it a good place for First Lunch, dropping just below the cairn to sit and gaze out towards the hills of Torridon and Fisherfield. First, though, Steve insisted on a selfie, something he seems to want us to do on every top. I did eventually join in! A miracle had happened, and as we had ascended, the clouds had climbed too, so we never quite reached them.















Slioch


Beinn Eighe

It didn’t take long to drop down to the col again, though the 1000ft flanks of Sgurr nan Clach Geala ahead looked steep and intimidating, capped in cloud. The forecast breeze of 10-12mph had dropped away to almost nothing, and it was genuinely sticky as we knuckled down to the effort of the climb, though in the end, as so often, it wasn’t as bad as it looked. The views back to Sgurr nan Each were fabulous.


















We caught up with the clouds at the same time we reached the southeast summit, just a few feet lower than the top. And amazingly, the clouds kept on climbing, and by the time we’d walked the short distance to the cairn and broken trig pillar, we were on a cloud free summit standing proud over miles of wild terrain.












Obviously this was Second Lunch. The views were superb. The selfie, less so.


















Now for one of the best bits of the day, despite my knees now protesting somewhat as we started the first part of lots of descending. The ridge that drops in a north-west direction from Sgurr nan Clach Geala, above Eagan Tuill Bhig, is a good one. Never difficult, but knobbly and interesting, its nooks and crannies providing great views of the outstanding craggy east side of the hill.















Ahead, the slopes eased to the bealach between us and Meall a’ Chrasgaidh, which also links that hill to the easterly Fannaichs of Sgurr Mor and friends. Our final top didn’t look like much from here, much lower than “the Clach”, and the descent from its top west looked like it would be no harder than from the slightly boggy col. We were on for number three.









Sgurr nan Clach Geala descent ridge





Though we were tired now, the climb was quick, and the views ever improving, the light glowing on the flanks of Carn na Criche and hidden Sgurr Mor.















Meall a’ Chrasgaidh has a different, softer character to it, a broad dome of grass and stone. If we’d had enough left, we’d have had Third Lunch here, but we only had a few snacks. Besides, the day was pressing towards sunset and it was still technically winter even if it didn’t feel like it, so darkness would be creeping upon us.


















We took a WSW heading straight from the top. This is a pretty straightforward descent, but my knees were somewhat suffering now, so I slowed to the back of the group. I’m just glad that I could even contemplate 3 Munros in a day still, as for the last couple of winters I’ve struggled on any. It would make a pretty unrelenting ascent, so I for one am glad we chose to do these hills this way round. A ptarmigan was remarkably unfussed by our presence, and as we dropped, we were treated to the sight of a group of red deer below us, then climbing to our north with the fantastic outline of An Teallach as a back drop.



























I was very glad to reach the path, and on the level my knees are fine still. We started by heading for the bridge, but the path was much boggier so we soon dropped back to the better trail and the same river crossing. The final miles passed quickly, but wearily.









I think we were all very pleased to manage a pretty big day, after a week of staying on lower slopes. A few weeks later and my knees are mostly recovered, though for a while I did wonder if I’d over done it. Yet the memories of the wild hills of the North West remain, and will still draw me back. Maybe just a double next time though!

Cheers to Nige, Steve and Pete for their company, both this year, and for the last 35! We may well be suffering from a touch of the old git-itis , but we still seem to get out there somehow.