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The forecast was perfect, sun symbols the length and breadth of the land. So what to do with such a day? Our choice was, perhaps, not the most obvious one. Why not some epic in Glencoe, or a long tramp over the Cairngorms?
I’d been on Carn Dearg and Sgor Gaibhre before on a day of wind, cloud, rain and had always felt cheated of what should, I guessed, have been a wonderfully extensive view. Today would be the exact opposite. Hours of lazy contemplation of the surrounding hills whilst dawdling up and down the gentle ridges surrounding Coire Eigheach. Call me past it if you will, I prefer to think of such choices as showing the wisdom which comes with age
So it was up early for Carol and me, round to collect Dan and off on the tortuous drive along Tummel and Rannoch. Mist lay in the valleys and it was an eerie scene that greeted us as we parked by Loch Eigheach.
We heard rather than saw the geese taking off from the lake and the roaring of the stags. A more mechanical sound alerted us to the departure of the morning train from Rannoch station.
Across Rannoch Moor the Blackmount was glorious in the soft morning light. The moor itself was invisible under the mist which we had now risen above into a landscape luminous with the palette of Autumn.
Ahead our chosen hills swelled gently out of the moorland. We crossed the Allt Eigheach, followed the ‘Road to the Isles’ for a little while longer, then branched off up the slopes towards the first little top on the ridge.
The ascent to this first top on the ridge was a slow process, the temptation to stop and enjoy the ever expanding views proving overwhelming. No rush anyway, the plan was to descend in the last light of the day so we had plenty of time.
- The Glencoe Hills
- Aonach Eagach
- The ridges to Ben Lawers
We finally arrived at Sron Leachd a’ Chaorainn – just the place for morning coffee we declared. After a lie in the sun and some more photos we roused ourselves to tackle that gentlest of ridges leading to Carn Dearg.
- Corrour Station dwarfed by the Aonachs
- Blackwater, Bidean and Buachaille
- Coire Eigheach and Sgor Gaibhre
- Onwards and (ever so slightly) upwards!
The view North to the hills above Loch Ossian had opened up and by now it was lunchtime, of course. More excuses to sit and gaze around.
- A lovely view of the Mamores and Ben Nevis (and, of course, Carol!)
- The view North
- Loch Ossian
Eventually we headed off along the easy ridge to Sgor Gaibhre, just the sort of stroll where the body is happily occupied so the mind is free to roam.
- The ridge to Sgor Gaibhre
This time I took to wondering why photographs from days like this can so often disappoint. That remembered array of majestic peaks somehow seems diminished, smaller than our memory of them, a few pixels on the horizon.
I looked around. The North Buttress of Buachaille Etive Mor was, indeed, a tiny speck yet in my mind it grew with the memory of that Easter day years ago when the sun beat down and the rock was warm to the touch. That was with Steve and John, a few hours grasped en route to Skye. Or there’s the top of the Lancet Edge and Geal Charn, a New Year’s day with Andy and Gav after a memorable Hogmanay in the Pattack bothy, now sadly burned to the ground. Then there are dreams of days still to be. The crossing of Rannoch Moor by Canoe I’ve been promising myself, a night or two at Benalder Cottage. Maybe that’s it, dreams and memories, the mind sees much more than the eye. The camera too often simply captures what the eye sees so can easily disappoint. Rambling thoughts but they eased the way to Sgor Gaibhre.
- Dan approaching the summit
The ridge headed south to the last peak, Meall na Meoig (Beinn Pharlagain). The lowest but by far the most interesting. The OS 1:50000 shows a loch draining both ways, the 1:25000 has it right.
Earlier in the walk I’d been checking the map and realised: 868m, a rise of almost 200m from the col – that makes it a Corbett. Another tick. Somehow it didn’t matter. A tick won’t sustain you through the long hours at the work bench. But a memory might, and a dream surely will.
Speaking of memories, we lingered. The sun raced us down and won. There is a magic in such moments.
- Loch Laidon and Loch Ba
- The ridge to Carn Dearg