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When I was a kid there were four Scottish hills that left a permanent impression on me - Ben Nevis, Ben Lawers, Ben Lomond (my first Munro) and A'Ghlas Bheinn. The reason the last stuck was from our annual summer holidays driving up from Yorkshire (where we then lived) to Kyle of Lochalsh where my great grandfather lived. He died at 96 and was a wonderful old man who clipped gorse bushes into animal shapes and made his own pancakes!
Four generation photo in Kyle with my great grandfather, granny and mum
In those days it was a day's journey from Edinburgh to Kyle - much of it by single track road - and there was no causeway across the east finger of Loch Duich so we spent a good twenty minutes looking at the gully-riven west face of A'Ghlas Bheinn. My wee brother aged five remarked it looked like pyjama trousers drying on the line and from then on it was known to us as pyjama mountain!
Fast forward 50 years and Moira and I set off to climb pyjama mountain.
We turned off the A87 at Morvich and took the minor road up Strath Coe to the forestry commision car park at the end of the road where we parked. I gather this option is no longer available.
We were busy blethering as we followed the continuation of the track and walked past the turn off to the right to cross the bridge. It was a beautiful September day and the rowans were in their full berry-laden glory.
Looking back towards Loch Duich
Looking across to the hills of Glenelg
About 15 minutes into the walk Jack the yellow lab found a piece of contraband which he was very proud of and was trying hard to bolt down before I took it off him.
It was part of the foreleg of a deer with the hoof still attached. I prised it out of his jaws (funny how dogs get a serious attack of lock-jaw on these occasions!), put him and Tess on the lead (she's just as bad if she gets a chance) and threw the offending item as far as I could into deep bracken. Shortly after that we noticed the path we should have been on, on the other side of the river, and since both sides were steep we thought the best thing was to retrace our steps and go back to the bridge. duh.
Having crossed the bridge we negotiated a herd of cows who were a bit too interested in the dogs and were finally on the correct path on the right side of the river walking up Gleann Choinneachan. It was familiar (though you wouldn't think that after our earlier mistake!) from the route I took up Beinn Fhada a few years earlier.
We crossed the Allt a Choire Chaoil on boulders and followed the zig zag path up to the Bealach na Sgairne, ignoring the path to the right which leads to Beinn Fhada.
Path to the Bealach na Sgairne
From the bealach the path turns north and climbs in a series of dog legs.
Steep path up south east ridge of A' Ghlas Beinn
Jack's got that goofy expression he puts on when I make him pose and he wants to be off doing something else!
Loch a'Bhealaich, Sgurr Garsaic on left and through to Glen Affric
The ridge is rocky and undulating and after a while you come to a lochan where the dogs persuaded us to have a break!
Tess for a spot of retrieving (tail wagging so fast it's a blur)
Jack hoping for something to eat
In the absence of steak, carrot will have to do
Loch Duich from ridge
It was windy on top and the dogs' ears were flapping
After a few 'false tops' we arrived at the summit cairn.
View from summit
Skye
Moira at top
View down to Kyle and the Skye bridge
Having been to the Glomach Falls before we decided not to extend the walk and retraced our steps. The return was uneventful until we were nearing the bridge over the river and Jack disappeared. I whistled and he didn't come which sometimes happens if he finds something he knows he shouldn't have!
A few minutes later he raced back having already been over the bridge and in his mouth was the deer's foot I'd confiscated and thrown away on the other side of the river several hours earlier!
It wasn't even on our return path as that was the part of the wrong way we'd taken at the beginning of the day and that dog had remembered exactly where to go to sniff out his confiscated contraband.
And yes, I was extremely mean and confiscated it for a second time.
It's a dog's life.
