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After my Highlands and Islands tour began with a jaunt from Brodick to Lochranza via Cir Mhor and Caistel Abhail (written about yonks ago), I awoke at the Youth Hostel on the Tuesday morning suitably knackered. The walk had taken a lot of energy out of me, not least because of the slight dash to beat dusk in Gleann Easan Biorach. Luckily, my schedule this week allowed a day off from walking, as I travelled to Inveraray via the Calmac ferry to Claonaig, a cooncil bus to Tarbert and the Citylink coach up the West side of Loch Fyne. Weather conditions, much like the day before, were changeable, with the sun splitting the sky at Lochranza Castle, a comically light shower at Tarbert Castle and calm conditions at sunset at Inveraray Castle (my day seemed to consist of rather a few castles, more by accident than design).
- Lochranza Castle
- The Claonaig (pronounced Cloo-nig) ferry
- The bus meets the boat, then crosses Kintyre to Kennacraig and Tarbert for lunchtime.
- Tarbert
- The Citylink bus travels to Inveraray as Arran disappears to the South.
I awoke the next morning to hear rain hammering against the hostel window in Inveraray. The forecast had not been kind, predicting rain all morning, and true to form, the conditions outside were nothing short of squalid. However, I had pre-booked a bus to Tarbet (Loch Lomond) then another one to Glasgow five hours later, with the idea of climbing Cruach Tairbert in between, and was determined not to be put off climbing it by a spot of rain. After all, it's
only a Marilyn...
- Cracking breakfast at the hostel in Inveraray.
- Popular place.
- By the time I arrived at the bonnie bonnie banks, the weather had...not changed at all.
Alighting from the bus at Tarbet, the rain was coming down in sheets. I wish I could have stayed on the coach to Glasgow, as it was my girlfriend's birthday and I had no wish to be hacking about Cruach Tairbert in the rain, but once these coaches are pre-booked it's difficult to alter plans. I sat at the bus stop for 20 minutes swithering how much enjoyment I could get from a walk such as this, before eventually deciding that there is naff all else to do in Tarbet on a wet September morning. I marched up to the railway station and located the start of the walk.
The next two hours are a bit of a blur, not helped by the fact that I was unable to take any photos of the walk. Aside from the turgid conditions, my phone's battery was now less than 10% due to charging difficultties, and my ticket back to Glasgow was in the form of a text message. If my battery ran out before the bus arrived, I could be staying on the bonnie bonnie banks for rather longer than I'd planned.
The rough details that I can remember are: it took 45 minutes up and 1 hour 15 back down; I took a wrong turning soon after turning off the forest walk onto the summit 'path'; I ended up careering around clumps of uneven ground at the top of the forest, before locating a misty Loch Lomond to my right and turning left in a desperate attempt to find the summit. Eventually I found the path again, except by this time it was more resemblent of a river. In spate. In Brazil.
- Me, a drowned rat by this stage, taking a brief photo on the summit.
Upon reaching the summit area, I was (un)pleasantly surprised to find a series of false summits that Beinn Dorain would be proud of. The loch below looked like a cauldron of wind and rain; there was no opportunity for a photo with the battery in its perilous state. I normally stop for lunch at the summit, but it seemed slightly inappropriate in these conditions. Reluctantly I retreated, knowing that the descent would be just as tough.
If anything it ended up being even tougher. I made sure to stick to the path this time, which brought me to the stream that leads down to Arrochar and Tarbet station. The only problem was that so many trees lay fallen across my path that I had to cross the river at least twice to make any progress, with persistent rainfall making the task that much harder. Finally, after countless slips and bumps, I re-emerged at the forest track and stumbled down to the station underpass, breathing an almighty sigh of relief. I felt like I had been in a war with the elements, and was somewhat humbled by being taken to the limit by a mere 415m Marilyn that most people probably miss altogether on their drive to Fort William. Had I really just climbed Cruach Tairbert, and not Nevis itself?
After a decent and entirely welcome lunch at the Tarbet Hotel (where I lowered the tone by walking in completely drenched, much like in Lochranza 36 hours earlier), I went to the bus stop. Mercifully my battery still had 4% left, and was clinging on for dear life as the bus approached. But wait a minute, what was that behind the hotel? Up beyond the forest, it couldn't be...
Yup, the summit of Cruach Tairbert, bathed in sunshine, with not a care in the world for the two hours of torment it just subjected me to. Typical...
The bus just about made it back into Glasgow without becoming submerged in flash flooding on the Great Western Road. In a sense I felt slightly less aggrieved to find that Loch Lomond wasn't the only part of Scotland to be hit by such freakish rain, although I was starting to develop a habit for encountering stormy conditions here (Beinn Each and Ben Lomond have both been climbed in relentless rain and wind, while I've been very lucky elsewhere in Scotland). At least I was back in time to celebrate my girlfriend's birthday, before heading North to Pitlochry on Thursday morning and getting ready to experience the wilds of Corrour...
