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It was 1980 that John Lennon was shot dead, CNN started broadcasting for the first time, the SAS storm the Iranian embassy in London, and I climbed Stac Pollaidh for the first time.
It was a bitterly cold December day. The mist swirled along the summit ridge and the wind howled through eerie pinnacles that looked more like gargoyles than rock spires. I imagined I was approaching the Lost World, an inaccessible plateau where time stood still. A place where dinosaurs still roamed, devouring anything and anybody that managed to scale the cliffs. I had never seen such an awe inspiring mountain before in my life. Was that an eagle I saw circling looking for carrion, or was it a pterodactyl ?
In those days few people ventured into the remote highlands. There was no car park or signs informing that the mountain was suffering from erosion. There was no obvious path to follow and certainly there was not a stone stairway accessing the northern slopes. My brothers and I abandoned the car in a passing place and made our way across the heather slopes. We were hoping to access the summit ridge by the scree gully that held the lobster’s claw.
We had seen pictures of it in one of WA Pouchers photo books of Scotland and decided we wanted to see it for ourselves. The top three or four feet had already fallen since Poucher’s photo. That part was two little spires which looked like the pincers of a claw, hence the name given to the pinnacle. This is the photo I took of the remaining part in 1980. Sadly… I believe it has long gone so, anyone who ventures onto the ridge now will no longer see it
I guess people like myself who clambered all over the soft sandstone ridge would have accelerated the natural erosion but in those days we never gave it a moments thought. We thought mountains lasted forever, in fact at that age we thought life lasted forever. This photo taken amongst the pinnacles suggests we were nothing short of posers
We didn’t care for weather forecasts as they were very unpredictable in those days. It didn’t bother us as we ventured out in all kinds of weather. We hadn’t heard of gore tex clothing or shell suits. We climbed in jeans and jackets that were no better than todays pac-a-macs, but we knew the benefit of layers and wore oiled woollen balaclavas and mitts to keep warm. We feared nothing, we even tried to climb the lobster claw ..but it was smooth and featureless. Perhaps the lead in the water pipes that fed our houses had given us brain damage ?
We never stopped to think of the consequences our actions would have had on the hillsides. The only rule we followed was to take all our litter home. The best part of the day was glissading down the scree slopes on the way home. Im sure we raised clouds of dust on the steep fast descents. I have not done that in years, I guess all the decent scree slopes have long ended up at the bottom with generations of walkers using them to get off the tops.
Ahhhh.. remembering back …those were the good old days.
Thirty years later I went back to Stac Pollaidh, I parked in the large car park at the foot of the hill, amongst the camper vans that had stayed overnight. Sadly the feeling of remoteness and adventure that I felt 30 years ago was no longer there. I read the signs and obeyed them. I didn’t have a map or compass.. but then.. I couldn’t get lost as long as I kept to the pavement.
I took the staircase to the ridge and I must confess, the views were still astounding. This photo of Suilven was taken with a digital camera that I could only dream of in 1980. The weather was perfect and the forecast was spot on.
I wasn’t with my brothers this time. In 1980 I went to Blackpool for my holidays, that was the norm in those days.
Im glad to say, It was still far from the madding crowd. As I watched the sun set over the Inver Polly reserve… I couldn’t help but wonder … what Stac Polly would be like in another thirty years ?
Remember and take your litter home and try to avoid causing excessive erosion and hopefully it will still be there.
Thanks for reading my report
